Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium

Part III : The Beginning of Forever
Chapter Thirty Three : Where the Past Meets the Future

26 October 2003

Severus decided that waking from a much-needed and well-deserved nap was never a bad thing, especially when he could feel Harry's breath stirring the hairs on his chest as the lean body effectively pinned him to the bed. In fact, he thought languidly as his mind slowly pulled out of its sleepy haze, it was quite pleasant. Eyes closed, he noted he was sore in more spots than he cared to count; how much so he would not be able to ascertain until he moved, which he was loath to do at the moment.

He opened his eyes, turning his head to look out the window; the sun was high and well on its way to mid-afternoon. He yawned, resisting the urge to scratch an itch on his side where Harry's hair tickled his skin. Stroking the arm slung possessively over his waist, he could feel the bond, almost as sleepy as they were, ebbing and flowing gently between them. Taking it all in, he was somewhat surprised at how refreshed he felt despite the nap's brevity.

When he felt Harry yawn and stretch, he savoured the warm, firm feel of his bondmate snuggled and all tangled along the length of his body, and while the movements against him were extremely sensual, he was a bit grateful they were not arousing. Gingerly, he flexed his own muscles, ignoring as best he could the achy twinges as various bits protested not only his fresh movement, but their previous overuse.

Obviously Harry felt the same way as, with small grunts and groans, he turned enough to lay on his stomach, half draped over him as Severus fidgeted in sympathy, the bond letting him know precisely what parts of Harry hurt. Raising up, Harry stretched the little bit necessary to kiss his husband on the cheek with a sleepy, "Hullo, love." When Severus merely tightened his hold around the slender waist, Harry sighed with contentment, mumbling, "Can't say I want to do more than have a long lazy lie-in. Can't say I can do more in any event."

Severus snorted and shifted with a small grimace, saying, "I'm absurdly pleased to wake and not feel an overweening compulsion to exchange bodily fluids, which, given the current state of my body, is probably for the best. An afternoon spent cat-napping with you has a certain appeal, but unfortunately we've not even the time for a quick wank and a shower before we need to see Albus." When Harry muttered something about 'making time', Severus chuckled. "Are you sure that vision is the last thing you want in your memory before we go to see the old voyeur?"

Harry laughed and, with some difficulty, hauled himself up onto his hands and knees. Kissing Severus one last time before rolling out of the bed seemed the most natural thing to do, although the brief encounter brought only affection, the bond tightening between them in a congenial manner. "Are you saying he would peek?" Harry asked, openly ogling Severus' bum as he climbed out of the bed.

Well aware of the eyes following him, Severus said blandly, "Why not? I would."

Harry chortled while rummaging in his wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of boxers and a pair of well worn jeans and tugged them on, only to pull the jeans right back off with a grunt. Standing only in his boxers, he could feel Severus standing close behind him. Ignoring the gooseflesh running down his back from Severus' breath, he reached in and pulled out a loose old robe and threw it on, his voice muffled as he said, "Pervert."

"Only with you," Severus remarked, moving away to pull on a pair of his work trousers. "Although with Albus now, I think he sometimes 'looks' just because he can." He winced as he began to button them up.

"Problem?" Harry smirked, knowing exactly how Severus felt, not only through the bond, but through his own abandoned attempt moments before. "A little tender there, perhaps?" he asked, grinning.

"Prat, you know full well this is uncomfortable."

Harry laughed. Rummaging around in Severus' wardrobe, he pulled out the long, soft, worn robes (sans trousers) his lover wore whenever making his potions on the weekends or holidays. "Well then, wear your old slumming robes; they'll be easier on the sore spots."

"But not suitable," Severus retorted with a grimace as he tried to adjust his trousers to fit 'better'. When his husband shook his head, he explained with asperity, "Harry, there are students out there. As a certified marshmallow your reputation is far easier to maintain, while I, on the other hand--"

"--Must look dour and properly intimidating, I know."

Severus raised a brow, his glowering stare falling a bit short of his goal due to the twitching of his lips as he fought a smile. Harry couldn't help it and made one for both of them.

"How about a compromise then?" Seeing he had his lover's attention, he separated the inner robe of the soft set and held it next to the more severely cut outer robe his husband usually wore when teaching. "There now. With this you'll be able to stalk down the hallways with your usual sexy sweep while keeping your bawdy bits nice and comfy and all ready for little Harry to play with later."

Severus' mouth opened like a gaping fish and he closed it with a snap and a sniff. Brow raised, he stripped the trousers off with a sigh of relief. In one fluid movement, he snatched the robe out of Harry's hand and whisked it over his head, letting it fall in heavy, graceful folds around his feet. The long tunic, almost like a buttonless cassock, was loosely fitted at sleeves, shoulders, chest, and waist. His normal outer robes, with their wide sleeves and a button at each cuff, so he could tighten them to keep them out of his brews, fit smoothly over the top, their coal black contrasting nicely with the 'been-washed-a-thousand-times' black of the under robe.

Harry chuckled as Severus muttered, turning to look one way and then the other in the mirror, "Not bad. Quite comfortable in fact, if a bit drafty. I wonder if one can get winter skivvies in black?"

Harry walked his hands around Severus' waist and snuggled in, letting out a sigh of satisfaction when Severus surrounded him in the outer robes with only his head showing; his lover was always so formal in them that this kind of contact in his teaching robes was rare. Given the obvious advantages of the softer under robe, he was curious and asked, "Tell me, Sev, why do you wear the trouse and waistcoat and such all the time when this is ever so much more comfortable?" Severus mumbled something. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't quite catch that."

With a deep sigh, his words rushed, Severus replied, "Always-hated-being-called-a-robe-lifter."

Or the not so obvious advantages, Harry thought as he chuckled. "Well, you're my robe-lifter now, so that's all right then."

He wasn't quick enough this time to evade the tickling hands and twisted, trying to get away, helplessly laughing as Severus dug into his ribs. However, his husband soon discovered yet another use as Harry got caught in the voluminous outer robes. Before he knew it, he was rolled like a rug in black cloth, facing away, Severus' arm supporting his waist, while his other hand had its way with his torso. Howling till he cried, Harry called for mercy, and while the hand let up, the arm dragged him back until he was firmly pressed up against another reason the robes were so beneficial. His breath ragged against Harry's ear, Severus whispered, "Who says one need lift them to get what one wants?"

Turning to face him, the folds fell away, leaving Harry free to press back. He plucked at the side, holding it out a bit as he measured it with his eyes. "Hmmm. There's enough room in the skirt that I could just crawl underneath and no one would be the wiser--" he waggled his brows and grinned at the glazed look in Severus' eyes, "--that is assuming you could stay still long enough."

Severus responded the only way a wise man should; he sealed the impudent mouth with his own and pulled Harry close, grinding their hips together while tongues played back and forth between them. Breaking for air, he inadvertently looked out the window behind Harry and groaned. Reluctantly, he pulled away, twisting his hips to settle himself. "Or there's enough room that no one need know just how much I wish we could stay here and explore just how full the hem really is."

Dazed, Harry blinked. "Oh yeah. Right. Dumbledore. Shit. I'd forgot there for a moment why we needed the silly clothes in the first place." He chuckled ruefully, pulling away and adjusting his own informal robes. "Well, shall we go then? If we hurry, we may still have some time afterwards to fully explore the potential of your improvised attire."

Severus nodded without comment, although his stare spoke volumes about who was going under whose robes. Harry shivered in anticipation. With resignation, they both resolutely made their way to see the headmaster.

Halfway up the stairs from the dungeons, Harry stopped Severus with a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"

Severus, a tread ahead, turned around to face him. "Of course I'm all right."

Harry glared at him. "Hmph. All right--I'll go easy on you since this your first offense, but the 'I'd-rather-eat-rotten-Runespoor-eggs-than-admit-to-anyone-that-I-might-be-a-tad-bit-afraid-bravado-martyr-bullshit' stopped the moment we changed names--Non iam solitarius sum.--remember?--it goes both ways, Severus, so spill, or do I have go in and look for myself, and trust me, it won't be pretty."

Severus stared, his mouth twitching as he said, "I'm impressed. You actually managed that whole speech all in one breath. Truly amazing and I am sorry, I was too distracted by the feat. What did you say?" When Harry's jaw dropped, Severus chortled, whispering, "Got you."

He came down the step until they were even with each other. "I'm sorry--it's so rare I can render you speechless, I feel I must indulge myself whenever the opportunity presents itself." He folded his arms around him while Harry's hands slid under his robe. Pulling each other close, Harry snuggled in to give Severus the reassurance he knew he needed, but also for himself; his husband was not the only nervous party here. They held each other close and it was as natural as breathing for one head to lift while the other one dipped, the two mouths gently joining in--

"Ten points from Slytherin for unbecoming behaviour in the hallways," floated down to them from the top of the stairs in McGonagall's plummy tones.

Which was followed closely by a, "Ten points to Slytherin because the Gryffindor Head of House is grumpy this afternoon," in Sprout's amused voice.

"What--?" sputtered McGonagall.

Although they did not jump apart in guilt at the interruption, they did, albeit reluctantly, separate. Severus climbed the stairs saying, "Ladies, ladies. You're both right. Pomona, I should have been more circumspect in my public behaviour and Minerva--I'm sorry, but you are a grump. However, I shall endeavor to ensure it does not ha--

"Don't even think it, Severus Snape-Potter," Harry stated, stomping up the stairs. He leaned in, cupping his hand around his lover's ear and whispered, "Late night wanderings--dark niches--shadowy alcoves--you warming me up against winter cold walls? Are you quite sure you want to make that promise, hmmm?"

"Come, Minerva," Sprout said as she eyed the faint flush and glazed eyes of the Potions master's face. "You'll not get that promise out of him now--the boy got to him first." With mutual smiles, they left with a smug healer grinning at them while the Potions master just stared.

As Severus had predicted, the upper hallways were alternately full then empty as students returned en masse from a Hogsmeade weekend. Separate and with proper dignity, they strode to the headmaster's office, Severus' robes swirling commandingly around him. And while it created a wide swath where they walked unmolested, it was difficult to ignore the speculative sideways glances from the older students that, as soon as they passed, became whispered conversations held between huddled heads.

Near the Great Hall, they almost collided with Perrin dashing down the corridor, heedless of where he was going. At the last moment before impact, the boy pulled up short, chest heaving, mere inches away from the dreaded Potions master. Looking like he was going to cry, he blurted out profuse apologies to both 'Professor Snape' and 'Mr. Potter'.

Harry couldn't watch--from the glare he levelled at the first year, he just knew Severus was going to be brutal, and was therefore shocked when Severus commented mildly, "Mr. Long. Could you be so kind as to point out to me where the fire is?" When Perrin gaped at him, obviously trying to call to mind something, anything to say, Severus continued. "Ah, I see. Then there is a troll somewhere behind you?" Perrin shook his head. "Hmmm. Then, perhaps, you can explain why you are recklessly flying down the hallway sans broom?"

Perrin stared, obviously confused that he hadn't been blasted. Yet. There was still time. "Uh, you see, uh--"

"I have found words of more than one syllable can be quite illuminating, Mr. Long," the Potions master interrupted him dryly.

Back on familiar ground, Perrin said, "I'm late for my detention with Professor Flitwick, sir."

"On a Sunday, Mr. Long?" Severus eyed him a moment, his face stern to those who didn't know him, but Harry could see his mouth working to contain a small smile. "Five points from Hufflepuff for running in the corridors and three inches of parchment, minimum, on Professor Sprout's desk no later than Wednesday on what you could have possibly done to earn a weekend detention from Professor Flitwick and why you won't do it again. That will be all." As Perrin moved on with a respectful nod and a sigh of relief, he stopped as if pulled by a string when the Potions master called out to him, "Oh, and, Mr. Long?"

He turned around with a cautious, "Yes, sir?"

Severus almost smiled. "Make haste a little slower next time." And with Perrin's, "Yes, sir!" ringing in the hallway as he walked away quickly, Severus and Harry continued to the headmaster's stair.

Harry shook his head. "Wow. You were almost 'nice'. I think I see now what the problem has been all this time; your trousers pinch, thereby cutting off the circulation to the more pleasant parts of your brain--I can see where that would make anyone testy. Maybe you should wear these robes more often."

Arriving at the bottom of the headmaster's stairs, Severus glared at him. "Hardly. I seem to recall a promise I made not too long ago to a certain insolent brat that I would at least attempt to display the minimum required civility to the boy."

"True," Harry said and belatedly added, "Thanks." As Severus said the password, he asked, "Have you heard anything?"

Moving onto the first tread, Severus asked, "What? About the boy's mother?"

Harry joined him. "Among other things, yes." The stair started corkscrewing to the top.

"No, and as his guardian, you and perhaps Sprout would have been notified first in any event."

As Severus and Harry rode the stairs up, Severus wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, inexplicably needing the contact. They reached the top and had just separated at the landing, when the door opened and Albus stepped out. He stared at Severus, his tired eyes tracking over his face as if drinking in the sight of him. His face solemn, those eyes closed as he whispered something Severus could have sworn was, "Thank the gods," before opening them to beam at them both.

"Come in, come in," Albus said brightly, ushering them into his office. Once the door closed, he nodded to Harry, patting his shoulder absentmindedly, before placing his hands on Severus' shoulders, squeezing gently. "It is so good to see you well, my boy."

Severus smiled. "As a wolf of our mutual acquaintance is so fond of saying, 'it's good to be seen'."

Albus chuckled and with a little shake, he said briskly, "As always, Poppy wants to see you before we talk." He leaned over and whispered to the younger man with a glance back at Harry, "You know how these healers are--the most stubborn individuals on earth--can't take the word of another; oh no, always have to check it out for themselves."

Severus raised a brow and dead-panned, "Are you suggesting they take our word? At face value? For anything?"

"Ah, well, yes, I--" he tilted his head to the side his eyes glowing with mirth "--I see your point." He turned Severus and gave him a little nudge towards the back of his office. "Go, see Poppy before she wears out my carpet."

Severus smiled and went over behind the spiral stair where a table and chairs were tucked in for impromptu or private meals such as the one they'd enjoyed the evening the three of them had discussed Perrin. Pensively seated at the table, Poppy jumped up when she heard him approach. Giving him a hard hug and a kiss to the cheek, she remarked, "So it finally happened."

"You both knew it would, or I would not be here for you to examine," he replied pragmatically.

"Such a risk; however, Albus always did have more faith in others."

"That's probably to the good, for I have little faith in anyone or anything other than Harry."

She studied his face even as she ran her wand over his body. "Not even in yourself, Severus?" she asked gently. When he shook his head, she said, "Well, then, that will just have to be enough then, now won't it? Are you ready?"

Severus snorted in amusement. "For the future? Faugh! Is anyone, really? Was Albus? Were you?"

Poppy smiled, her eyes far away in memory. "True, life has been full of many surprises. But for this? He's so young."

"Who? Harry?" When she nodded, he continued. "He is no younger than Albus was when he came into it, although Harry does benefit from Albus' tragedies. And one has to question just how young Harry really is or has ever been. His first battles, whether personal or otherwise, were done as a child, alone for all the help any of us were able to give. There may be twenty one years separating us, but most times it doesn't show except in the texture of his skin. I admit, you and Albus had the advantage of facing your foes after you were established adults with years experience between you." His voice gentled. "Yet for all the battles that Albus has seemingly fought alone over the years, his lioness, standing in the shadows, bore as much as her serpent."

Poppy retorted quietly, "Pish. If the man is good and strong at his core, there is not much to bear except the occasional 'reminder' of who and what he really is. You should have no problem with this--I suspect the back of this serpent is as strong as the shoulders of his lion. And while I think on it, need I 'remind' you that you also fought by yourself, unsupported, young."

Severus shrugged and recited, "'The fate of the lion is to bear; the fate of the snake is to share.' Seems the old headmaster's adage still works even if the roles are reversed." He chuckled, saying, "Any quick, last minute advice from one pedestal to another before we join the two old men?"

"Nag."

"Nag?"

"Come now, Severus, you know, the endless repetition of unpalatable truths?" She laughed. "Be grateful that you search for something to grouse about. It won't be too long before you'll be holding a lottery to choose which dozen or so you'll limit yourself to." Her face softened. "And of course, never forget, not even for an instant." He nodded, knowing of what she spoke, and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

She cleared her throat, eyes misty. "It's a rough road you will both travel, full of wonders and trials. But yours will be hardest, you know this. And should you need it--you know where to find me," she said, her voice hoarse.

"Of course I do, Poppy. Right by Albus' side where you've always been, just as I will be at Harry's. All in all, not so bad. Quite good, I would have to say."

Nodding her agreement, she linked her arm in his and they went back into the office to join 'the two old men'.

Severus had no more left the area when Albus turned to Harry and gave him a long hug. Stepping back, he said, "I hope you forgive me for ignoring you for a while--"

Harry flashed him an understanding grin. "It's all right. I'm happy to have him whole, too." Suddenly uncomfortable, he looked at the floor as he asked, "You do have Severus' memories, right?"

"Yes, I removed them before Quiesta contained the curse as Severus was concerned they might interfere with your binding. It seemed better to be safe about it than risk any problems. It will be easy to return them, but I'm afraid not so easy for him to take them. Are you prepared?"

"Is anyone ever prepared to be confronted with those things they heretofore only suspected?"

"No, I suppose not. But I have every confidence you'll be all right." Harry was about speak, when Albus added, "One thing, though. Severus has his own unique methods for dealing with his own traumas. And most, if not all, of the emotional distress contained within these memories was rendered harmless with the absorption of the curse." He put his hands on Harry's arms, his face suddenly quite serious. "And a damn fine job you did with that, my boy."

Sliding an arm around Harry's shoulders, he led them over to the chairs in front of the fireplace. Once they were both seated, he continued quietly. "I'm afraid that while the emotional pain may be mitigated, I removed the memories before Severus could dissipate the physical pain. When I return them, he will be in distress and, through the bond, so will you, though you may, perhaps, be farther removed from it for obvious reasons. Just in case, Poppy and I both intend to stay here to help if need be--to get you both through it."

Harry waited to see if he had more to say and when it seemed he was finished, he thanked him. Albus nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "You found everything you sought? In the library?"

"How did you--? Oh, right. Almost forgot. I hope Poppy wasn't too much inconvenienced, but I found it--urgent--to get started right away instead of waiting."

"I figured as much," he said as if he were going to say more but thought better of it. "And, no, she was not. Didn't even wake her. You were most fortunate in that regard, although I daresay, you're not the one she would have scolded."

Harry chuckled then sobered. "Did you follow it?" he asked curious to learn the headmaster's perspective.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful a moment and replied, "It is rather loud to those of us who can hear it. So, yes, I did. You'll need to learn to control it better; the power you pushed into it was too great, but that you consciously used it at all was what really mattered."

"Albus, what--"

"--Later, Harry," the headmaster interrupted him at the sounds of Poppy and Severus approaching. Quickly he finished, "You should both be present when we talk about this and, right now, getting Severus reunited with his memories, if he so chooses, is of more importance. We will have time later to talk about the other."

Harry nodded his understanding and, despite his urgency, felt a keen sense of relief at the practical, almost mundane way Dumbledore was regarding the issue. It made it seem less frightening and more a part of himself, rather like talking about a mole on one's arm.

Albus put a hand on Poppy's arm when she drew near his chair. "Satisfied?"

"Of course not, but it will have to suffice," she replied drolly, giving him a quick kiss to his cheek. She walked over to Harry and, when he stood, embraced him. "You don't need me to tell you that you're both fine." He grinned, hugging her back, as always comforted by her presence as well as her words.

Looking over at the clocks behind his desk, all of them at different times, she obviously found the one she was looking for when she said practically, "We have a little over three hours before we need to get ready, Albus. You promised the manager of the ballroom we would be there a few minutes early to make certain everything is in place."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Cluck, cluck. Yes, Mother."

Harry expected Albus to get blasted, but instead Poppy chuckled, shaking her head. "Albus, it's a little crowded in here. Perhaps we would be more comfortable upstairs?"

"That is an excellent idea; might be more relaxing at that. After you?" He held out his hand, ushering them ahead of him. As they climbed the stairs, he remarked, "I debriefed Moody, Shacklebolt, and Remus earlier this morning, all I might add, a little worse for their late night in Hogsmeade. How was I to know they closed The Three Broomsticks after the ceremony?"

"And the wolf, I assume, looked worse than the hair of the weredog that bit him?" Severus quipped, climbing the seemingly endless stairs.

"Severus!" Harry exclaimed, scandalized.

"Oh, don't worry, Harry," Albus said with a smile, "It's no insult. Remus is the one who started the whole sordid series of jokes the night he and Severus buried the hatchet over a bottle or three of firewhiskey." Winking, he opened the door at the top of the stairs. "Took me a week to find the bugger and another to unearth it, too. You'd never guess where they put it..."

"Albus," Severus growled warningly.

"Oh, all right." he said, his eyes twinkling over his half-rim spectacles, "spoil sport, but I assure you, Minister Fudge was not amused." He chuckled as he moved the furniture around in the sitting room, making a cosy seating area in front of the fire, the chairs with their backs firmly to the room. His eyes grew more serious as he summoned a lover's chair, setting it near where they stood, well away from the other two.

Harry supposed the arrangement was to give them privacy and yet keep them handy. Not a bad arrangement altogether. He'd tried to 'follow' Albus when he'd made the joined chair, and while he'd sensed the shift, he couldn't quite grasp what he'd done. But he saw what Albus meant about the noise. Pursuant to the tiny amount of power Albus had used, there'd been a soft 'whooshing' sound as the chair appeared--Harry snorted--out of thin air, indeed. Maybe he could talk the headmaster into explaining how he did it.

Severus was examining the chair, one Harry had only seen once in a photo featured in one of Aunt Petunia's lady's magazines. Shaped like an "S", it was made for two people so that when seated, they would each have a back and arms, but they would face each other, able to see and touch and embrace each other. However, like all of Albus' chairs, this one was a bit different. Instead of a short seat, each side was extended almost like a chaise longue so that one could stretch out. Another modification was that there was no arm between the two seats, and therefore, no impediment to the two of them reaching each other. The last thing was that the backs of both sides were tall and curved like a wing-back chair.

"Quite ingenious," was Severus' only comment as he eyed the two sides. Finally choosing the left seat, he tested the cushion by pressing into it with his hands on either side of his hips. After a moment's hesitation, he toed off his shoes, letting them lay where they fell. He swung his legs up onto the chaise and scooted back until he was resting comfortably against the back, his right hip flush with the seam between the two cushions. When he folded his hands serenely in his lap, staring unseeing at his socked feet, Harry followed suit and within moments was seated in a mirror position, his hip and leg firmly settled along Severus'.

His lover looked up at the contact, mildly surprised as if he'd forgot Harry was there, which Harry had half-expected given that he couldn't feel Severus through the bond right now. He leant forward and placed a hand on Severus', saying quietly, "What's wrong, love?"

Severus shook his head, unable to explain the thoughts pinging chaotically through his head. He did and he didn't want this.

Albus watched him carefully, knowing from both Severus' and his own experiences with Legilimency, precisely what was bothering his old friend. He sat on the edge of the chair near Severus' knees, purposely placing himself so Harry couldn't see him. His eyes gentle, he said, "We don't have to do this now, my friend. In fact, we don't have to do it at all. Say the word and I will destroy them; perhaps it is time you found a little peace with your past."

Severus shook his head. "Nice try, Albus, but you know I must take them back; however, you have a point about when." He glanced at Harry. "Perhaps now is not the right time."

Harry tightened his hands. "Is any time 'better'?" he asked reasonably.

Severus held his calm gaze. "No, I suppose there is no such thing as a 'good' time, but better?" He looked away, his brow furrowed.

Harry considered what Albus had told him earlier and realised Severus was hesitating because, as always, he wanted to protect Harry from the memories' brutality and from the remnants of past recollections that always seemed to cling to the new through association. "If not here, then in your dreams," he mumbled to himself, knowing that for him to leave would only delay the inevitable.

"Pardon?" Severus asked, his head swivelling back to Harry, who leant forward to place his hand on Severus' neck and jaw.

Eyes locked, neither one saw the headmaster stand and join Poppy by the other chairs.

His thumb stroking his husband's cheek, he said quietly, "Severus, our pasts created us, our present defines us. I love who you are. If you don't want to take the memories because you don't want to face them right now, or if you want me to leave so you can nurse them in private, I'll understand and do whatever you want, but do not delay taking them simply because you wish to spare my sensibilities or harbour a mistaken belief that I will love you less for them. That is not possible. Mihi insum, Tibi insum. Together, we can face anything."

As Harry invoked the bond, Severus felt something hard and cold loosen inside him, another small dark place within him surrendered only to be whisked away forever in the tide of the love he could feel flowing freely through him from his bondmate. He gripped Harry's wrist and, turning his face, kissed his palm, his other hand tightening on Harry's in his lap.

Thus joined, they did not hear Albus come behind them as he said, "Ubi bifarias eratis--"

To which they inevitably replied, "Unus iam sumus."

And as it sang through them, Albus sorrowfully uttered, "Reversus Obliviate."

As soon as the words left Dumbledore's mouth, Poppy murmured, "Te apud constanter manebo, neglegens si magno mihi stetit," and grabbed his hands, holding them tightly against the grimace running across her husband's face as the memories swiftly transferred from him to Severus. She led him, shaking, to their chairs by the fire, but instead of taking one of her own, she sat in his lap, arms wrapped around him, holding him, as he rode out the spell and the visions he could not help but see for the second time. In time he quieted, and she kissed his forehead, urging him towards sleep, saying she would watch for them both. He nodded and, with an absolute trust, he closed his eyes, murmuring, "Semper te amabo," as he drifted off.

Oblivious to the drama unfolding behind them, Severus and Harry rode the waves of Severus' missing past, the bond gentling the invasion, more so than if he'd done it alone.

Avery's whip--hide the screams... Draco cutting his chest--Draco cutting dandelion stems in first year with the same look of concentration... Biting back the pain as Avery laid a new pattern--Screaming as Voldemort forced himself into his reluctant body... The blood dripping off of Avery's knife--the blood running unchecked down his thighs as Voldemort took his depraved pleasure... Remus telling him a story about a prince--Remus shrinking back from him as he threatened him in the hallway... The smell of sizzling flesh--the sickly sweet smell of burning incense... Remus releasing him from the stock--holding Remus fast, drunk, crying after Sirius' death... Bethany in the hallway healing them--Bethany vomiting all over his robes... Knocking Avery back with his staff--Avery groping his body...

At Harry's soft cries of distress, Poppy stood and peered over the top of Albus' chair. Harry, his face a study in horror, had pulled Severus almost in his lap, arms holding his mate tight as sweat rolled down their faces. Severus' grip on Harry's robes threatened to tear them asunder and without thought, she whispered a spell to make them impervious. She glanced down at her bondmate's peaceful face and moved over to her own chair so as not to disturb him.

Hold it in, don't let them hear you, to scream is to be weak. Roll it in a ball, wind it tight, hold it at bay. Later, later, until you can curl into yourself and release it and howl in another place, another time. The time, is it now? Am I safe? I can feel Harry. He loves me. He won't laugh. The ball of pain unfurled.

With a hoarse shout, a keening wail filled the room. Poppy stood, casting a sphere of silence around Albus' chair and, once assured he would continue sleeping, she knelt in the seat of her chair, her hands grasping the back as she watched and waited.

Severus arched, rigid with pain, his hands clawing the air, as Harry, hands extended, timed his movements, his eyes fixed on his lover, his concentration complete. When Severus folded on himself, his updrawn knees tucked under his chin, his arms wrapped around his shins, Harry scooted over next to him. Poppy nodded her approval when his hands rose and made firm contact with Severus' temples, his eyes closing. Fixing the sight in her own memories, she sat down to give them their privacy.

Overwhelmed by the pain surrounding him like a wind-swept storm, Harry traversed the pathways, mitigating his mate's pain as he found it. Inch by inch, system by system, he searched and destroyed the bad things he found. A healed muscle torn in anguish, a phantom cut throbbing with salty blood, he sought them all, determined to stop the agony wherever he found it, further, deeper--

"No! Not all of it. I need some of it to keep it real."

Harry immediately withdrew his hands, folding them in his lap, anxiously waiting to see what Severus needed. Panting, his husband slowly uncurled, falling back heavily against the chair, his legs eventually stretching out as he rode the last of it by himself, separate, as he'd asked. It was over, the memories firmly seated where they belonged, not wonderful, but his. Finally, he raised tired eyes to Harry, open to him.

Harry took his hands. "Better?" he asked, rather than feeling for himself.

"Much. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You're sorry? Severus, I am--" he searched for the words, "it haunts me you had to go through all that to teach ME a lesson. If it's possible, I feel worse than I did when I almost killed you with that curse after I left Hogwarts."

Severus chuckled weakly, "Ah, but that lesson served the purpose of giving me hope that you could love me, so in my humble opinion, it was worth every moment you suffered at my side." He moved closer and took Harry's face in his hands. "I never expected our vows to bind us like this. Non iam solitarius sum. This lesson was one of trust; I needed to trust that you would continue to love me unconditionally, and you needed to learn to trust yourself."

Harry kissed him gently. "But is any lesson worth the price of your blood? Your suffering? If it had to be anyone, why not me? My hurts seem so small and petty sometimes compared to yours."

"I'm not sure it is something one can compare--" he stopped, his face still and sober.

"Severus, what's wrong?"

"It just occurred to me that although you can't hurt me, I find that I can be hurt now."

Harry tilted his head, perplexed. "How so?"

Severus gave it some consideration. "After that night with Voldemort and Avery, I resolved never to give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream again and learned over time to control the physical pain. And because of it, I enjoyed a certain knowledge that as long as they couldn't touch me inside, they could never really hurt me. I had no ties to anyone I really cared about until you came along."

Harry began to see where he was going and whispered, "No."

"Unfortunately, yes. And now, it only took Lucius a few minutes to break through years of control to reduce me to a blathering simpleton. Now I can be devastated. I'm vulnerable." When he saw Harry's stricken, regretful face, Severus knew he'd misunderstood. Framing his face with his hands and kissing him, he murmured, "Semper te amabo. I would never trade my life with you for anything and certainly not to diminish my own weaknesses."

They shared a serious kiss, a perfect meshing of lips and hearts, one that wound with their bond, strengthening it as each freely accepted the other with a trust that did not require proof to be believed. In slow degrees, a barrier they'd not known they'd carried dropped, imbuing them with a freedom with each other that while liberating, bound them closer together.

Severus held Harry for a long while, both settling into the new feelings within them. After a while he whispered, "I told Poppy I had no faith in anyone other than you, but I see now that maybe I was wrong; perhaps, now that I know what you see, I can allow myself to have the same faith in me."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he said nothing at all, except what he could with the warmth of his body and his heart. Sometime later, they pulled apart, hands smoothing skin and fabric, reluctant to separate, but knowing they must.

Severus stood and held out a hand to help Harry up. They shared one final embrace before Severus said ruefully, "I think it is now your time with the headmaster." He tilted his head at the soft snores coming from the chair by the fire. With a return of his wicked gleam, Severus asked, "Whose turn is it to wake him?"

TBC