Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium

Part III : The Beginning of Forever
Chapter Forty Five : Missing Impressions

Monday 3 November 2003

The shadowy dream left him in stages until all that remained was a vague sense of disquiet and then - nothing. He lay curled on his side, blinking in the harsh light from the open draperies, the sun falling full across the bed. Wondering for only a moment where he was, Harry jerked wide awake when his questing hand found the cold empty spot next to him. Realising Severus had let him sleep (but without his morning snack, thank you very much), he sat up grumpily, his movement dislodging a piece of parchment resting on the covers. He leant over the side of the bed, hand extended to snag the errant scrap. Unsuccessful and loathe to leave the bed just yet, he grabbed his wand instead, saying, "Accio note." With lazy satisfaction he caught the paper as it sailed to his waiting hand.

Unfolding it, he read through it quickly:

Not only do you hog the covers, you snore. Loudly. I'm off to slay wily headmasters and recalcitrant students; I'll meet you for lunch in the Great Hall if you can tear yourself away from your busy social calendar.

S

PS. We need to discuss where we will leave our notes in the future. This one has failed twice to stay on the bed as your heavy breathing dislocates it (have I mentioned that you snore?) and, frankly, I have only one thing I want to get blown...

He laughed at the impatient postscript; the wavering writing and a small ink splotch on the coverlet told him his spouse had quickly penned it on the bed, more than likely with the new fountain pen he'd acquired in Hana from the hotel shop. Happy to see Severus was actually enjoying his first morning back, Harry cheerfully climbed out of bed, shivering in the sudden cold and hastily donned his dressing gown, which Severus had thoughtfully laid across the foot of the bed. In short order, his morning ablutions complete (and he really did like the lavatory at the window), he finished their unpacking with a few flicks of his wand. Satisfied that, at least here, all was in order, he went to the dining nook, calling for Dobby to please bring him breakfast.

While he waited, he took stock of the 'nook', deciding it was misnamed now that it was twice the size it used to be. Studying the ancient sideboard Severus had found at his favourite shop in Wales, he tried to place what was different about it (aside from the obvious that it was now installed under one of the window bays on the left side of the chamber). After counting the pairs of carved doors mounted on the front, he realised two more sets had been seamlessly added to the right-hand side, the new curving counter sporting a small deep sink. Quite an improvement to his own mind, although he couldn't begin to guess how Severus would react to someone modifying one of his prized antiques.

However, he had more immediate concerns to occupy him - such as fitting their old furniture in the new spaces. After a few false starts, he decided he preferred the tighter arrangement of their square table and four chairs tucked off to the left, in front of the sideboard; it gave a closer approximation of its former intimacy. This left the right side (with the fireplace) woefully bare, but he thought a couch might serve nicely, a place to sleep off a heavy meal, perhaps. He'd ask Dobby when he arrived.

Staring out the window, he saw their view was much the same as before, only rotated clockwise a bit. They were still at the same elevation as far as he could tell and not in an upper tower, but now the view was equally divided between the moors to the left (where they used to be the main view) with the lake to the right (where it used to be barely visible). Not unsatisfying, just odd - much like Severus' almost desperate demeanor last night.

How kapakahi it all seemed: normal on the surface and odd underneath. Severus had been hiding something, but unlike his previous secrecy, this one felt - different - almost as if he were compelled to silence rather than voluntarily withholding anything. Nor was the reticence solely limited to his spouse. The instant they'd stepped from the entry into the rotunda, he'd felt a small portion of their bond close to him; as there'd been an odd, almost foreign feel to it, he wasn't quite certain Severus had been the one to close it. And after the initial shock of discovery, it was almost like Severus had known what they would find and had just been investigating to confirm his suspicions.

However, he'd learned his lessons well in Hana and still glowed with satisfaction from his one positive accomplishment, and all it had required was for him to close his mouth and really listen. His gut told him this time he'd best continue the trend and just observe, that this, somehow, involved more than just the two of them, so he'd remained uncharacteristically silent on the matter.

A soft 'pop' interrupted his thoughts as Dobby arrived, carrying a tray and calling a cheery, "Welcome home, Master Harry." The smells under the domed cover were delicious - eggs and kippers - his favourite.

"Good to be home - I think." The house-elf laid out the table with a snap of his long fingers, a broad smile lighting his face as he removed the cover with a flourish.

"Dobby, I'm going to get huge, you keep spoiling me like this," he teased, sitting at the table, his mouth watering.

"Harry is too busy for Dobby to fatten him up," the elf remarked drolly, setting the lid aside. As Harry tucked in, Dobby added, "Harry's Professor ate well, too. Dobby made certain the Professor had his black pudding and runny eggs this morning."

Harry rolled his eyes as he swallowed a bite of salmon that had dripped with his favourite Hollandaise sauce. "Thank you for not subjecting me to it."

Dobby shrugged, saying wryly, "The Professor said much the same thing about Harry's fish." As Harry chuckled appreciatively, the house-elf eyed the empty place by the fireplace. "Does Harry want furniture here?" he asked, moving over to the bare spot in question.

His mouth full, Harry nodded, mumbling, "Was thinking maybe a couch or a settee?"

Head tilted thoughtfully, Dobby suddenly snapped his fingers and a large square couch filled the area. Harry shook his head and Dobby tried again. On the third attempt, a long Chesterfield covered in soft green leather appeared.

Harry nodded. "Perfect. Perhaps a couple of small tables?"

Dobby shook his head and a large, tufted leather hassock with turned legs appeared between the couch and the fireplace. A hardwood tray placed on top served as a small table. "Dobby thinks this would be better. Harry and his Professor could put their feet up."

Harry didn't much care beyond making the rooms as comfortable as possible; Severus had seemed so disappointed at losing the closeness of their former rooms. "That's fine." No longer hungry, he placed his napkin on the table. "Let's see to the other rooms; I'd like to get done and settled in before Severus gets home from classes this afternoon."

"Oh! Dobby is bad!" Dobby wailed, wringing his hands. "Dobby is sorry. Dobby forgot to tell Master Harry. The Headmaster would like for Master Harry to come to the headmaster's office right after lunch."

"You're backsliding, Dobby - enough of the 'Master' bit," Harry chided gently. "It's all right; we'll just have to get the rooms done before lunch, then. Shouldn't be too difficult." He held out his hand. "Perhaps we should get moving?"

Dobby spied Harry's half-full plate, a concerned frown creasing his brow. "You are finished eating already? Was it not to your liking?"

Incredulous, Harry stared at him hard, and shook himself as Dobby stared right back. He must have misheard. "I'm fine; I'm just not hungry anymore."

Clearly sceptical, the house-elf said, "Dobby will clean up then." Another snap of those agile fingers easily cleared the table.

'How very strange,' Harry mused as they moved around the edge of the rotunda to the sitting room beyond. Halfway there, he stopped cold, looking around him wildly, his head aching. Had the walls just moved?

'Oh, right, Potter, they just upped and did a jig. Must have been a trick of the light,' he thought, the sudden headache receding as quickly as it had come. He followed Dobby who, having stopped with him, was already moving into the large room.

"It really is rather nice with the sunshine pouring in through these large windows, but it's definitely not cosy." As he walked around the space, which was far more formal than before, he asked, "Dobby, can you make the room a bit smaller? Maybe two bays wide instead of three?"

His eyes huge with alarm, Dobby shook his head frantically. "Oh, no, Master Harry. Dobby is not allowed to change these rooms," he declared emphatically.

Watching him closely, he asked quietly, "Why not?"

"Dobby may not disturb or change Wizarding space," he said hesitantly. "It is forbidden."

"By whom?"

Dobby again stared at him; his head began to ache. "By the Accords."

'Ah, that explains it,' the headache easing with the thought. 'The Accords? What Accords? The magic binding the elves to their servitude?' He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I won't ask again."

"There was no real reason for Harry to know before," Dobby said, his face inscrutable. Brightening, he added, "What else does Harry want to do to the room?" He stood by the jumble of furniture in the centre. "Dobby can move these," he said with a chuckle, pointing at the pile.

The incident smoothed over, Harry laughed and they companionably moved furnishings this way, then that, making at least a third of the room habitable. Fortunately - or unfortunately, considering the dearth of furniture with which they had to work - it didn't take too long.

Harry stood back near the opening, his gaze sweeping the room. His and Severus' deep wingback chairs, tucked close together (with a small wedge-shaped wood table between), stood in front of the fireplace on the left side of the space. Once they placed the area rug near the hearth, it closely resembled the intimate space they'd used every night to unwind from the day before retiring.

After Dobby suggested making a place for 'Harry and his Professor' to play chess or where Harry could spread out the puzzles he was so fond of assembling, they added another square table and two chairs (similar to the set in the nook) close to the other fire. The centre they left open when the house-elf pointed out it would be the perfect place for a seasonal display, such as a Christmas tree and, when not in use, it would provide a modicum of privacy as no one could tell the function of the room just by looking in the opening from the rotunda.

Heavy draperies at the windows did dim the brightness a bit, but Harry felt that, when drawn at night, they could complete the illusion of intimate domesticity Severus seemed to crave - as did he, if truth be known. The familiar, small sideboards with their old crystal decanters were set off to each side of the opening in small niches formed by the walls supporting the ramp above. When finished, Harry felt the space could work well for them and he thanked Dobby for his suggestions.

Back in the rotunda, they quickly decided not to touch Severus' office, so they crossed to Harry's 'study'; this time Harry didn't see the walls move, but he could have sworn he felt the floor shake. "Did you feel that?" he asked the house-elf by his side, his voice oddly muffled in the open space. Dobby tilted his head quizzically. "I guess not," Harry muttered, his intermittent headache suddenly reappearing.

"Is Harry feeling well?" Dobby asked solicitously as Harry approached the alcove warily, rubbing his arms.

"Other than feeling like a damned fool, I'm fine," he said, grimacing at his fanciful imaginings; he must be more tired than he thought. And cold. The rotunda was far too cold and empty. "Dobby?" he asked, the throbbing in his temples worsening. He eyed the tall blank stone walls speculatively. "Are there any decent tapestries or wall hangings in storage?"

Already standing in the alcove, the house-elf walked back to Harry's side. "Dobby does not have time to look if Master Harry wants to finish before lunch, but Dobby will search when Harry is meeting with the Headmaster, if Harry wishes it."

Nodding, Harry replied, "Today or tomorrow will be fine. Maybe something historical? Big and colourful, though. They need to be wide and tall enough so one notices them and not how huge this place is." He stretched his neck trying to ease the discomfort creeping down from his head.

"Dobby knows where the old ones are stored," he said, plucking at Harry's sleeve. "Dobby will hang them later. Come. Master Harry and Dobby do not have much time left before Harry must leave."

Without further comment, Harry followed the house-elf. Once inside the room, the headache faded, but not his displeasure with the tiny space. Feeling defeated before he'd ever started, he sighed heavily, saying, "Let's see what we can do to salvage my office."

This proved to be more difficult than he'd thought it would be.

Dark and claustrophobic (even with the extra lamps Dobby obligingly provided), he eventually decided he couldn't work here. Even his fish moved sluggishly.

He couldn't quite place what else was wrong about the room til it dawned on him that Cally was missing. 'Come to think of it, I haven't seen her at all since our arrival last night.' Most unusual - normally the small white cat was all over him whenever he came home, sometimes to the point of tripping him up as she'd wind herself around his ankles, purring.

"Harry's fish do not look happy," Dobby commented, looking through the side of the desk.

"No. No, they don't. I think I need to move them." He looked around. "But not here - they need light and sunshine for the plants to grow. Maybe a tank in the sitting room next to the table? It would be warm there near the hearth and Cally can watch them comfortably."

"Dobby is thinking the rotunda is too big and empty. Maybe Harry would like Dobby to put the fish in a big glass globe in the middle?"

Harry's eyes glazed as he imagined it. "On a heavy bronze stand, almost like one of Trelawney's crystal balls," he mused, then focused on the house-elf. "Could be amazing - would have to be large, though. It's a good idea; they might like the extra room."

In a matter of moments the fish were gone, Harry assuming to where they'd discussed. His time was growing short and with regret, he raised his wand to banish the desk. 'I can't imagine ever needing it here; it's too big for this tiny space, and I can't even ask Dobby to make the room larger or add windows. No, I'll never work here.'

Protesting, Dobby disagreed and stopped him; they'd argued, or what passed for argument with the overly respectful house-elf. They finally agreed that Dobby would store it for him should he ever want it again.

"Dobby will move all of Harry's supplies and medicines to the cabinets and make sure the fireplace is connected to the Floo network while Harry is with Headmaster Dumbledore," Dobby said in consolation when he spelled the desk a away with another snap of his fingers.

Harry thanked him and, looking around the now bare room, thought, 'At least it will do for storage. Now I need to find a place for me. Perhaps the other side of the sitting room at the new table? It's certainly large enough for my simple needs, but I don't want to clutter the room. Well, the decision will have to wait til tomorrow; it's almost time to meet Severus.'

As he turned to leave, he heard a plaintive, familiar mewing from the darkest back corner. Sinking to his haunches, he held out his hand and made several silent 'come here' motions with it. Reluctantly, Cally slunk out of the shadows from under the cabinet's toe space, her wide open irises making her rounded blue eyes almost black. Creeping on her belly along the floor, her tail between her legs, she cautiously approached him until close enough to smell his hand, but at sufficient distance she could escape if need be. Relaxing with his scent, she licked his fingers and bumped his hand with her head, subtly begging him to pick her up. Going limp in his arms, she purred loudly as he scratched her ears.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he crooned soothingly. "Did you get trapped in here?" Concerned, he could feel how thin she'd become. "You must be starving. Come now, let's get you something to eat."

With mixed feelings, Harry walked out of his new storage room petting his found cat, and stopped dead just outside the doorway as he almost stepped into...

Nothing. No rotunda, no floor, no walls - just him and the cat in a blank space similar to the white nothingness he'd experienced with their bonds before. The pain filtering through his fear as razor-sharp claws dug deep into his arms through his robes, surpassed even the pounding in his head. Ears flat, Cally hissed, her ruff and back rising, her obvious alarm as great as his own. Heart pounding, he narrowed his eyes, trying to see as if it were a fog one could peer through. There! What was that?

The four Heads of House, including his Severus, wore their rarely used ceremonial robes; he'd never seen the others' and only glimpses of his spouse's hidden in the back of the wardrobe. Harry gulped, unable to tear his eyes from Severus, who, while the same man he married, was now somehow unreachable and unspeakably beautiful. There was a somberness to the dark jewel-like colours, offset with flashing gemstones at collar and cuff, that lent a glorious dignity to the familiar worn faces and an ancient solemnity to their ritual stance. It was almost as if they were the embodiment of the four founders, the might and strength of those fey folk superimposed over their contemporary custodians.

Unmoving, they stood in the core of what felt like the Orrery, each at the four cardinal points facing the headmaster, terrible with his visible power, who stood shining bright in the centre of the perfect square they formed. There was a quality to their persons that told Harry he was dreaming, or maybe he was seeing a dream, or maybe the memory of a dream. Regardless, he could sense these people had never really stood here in the flesh, yet he somehow knew they and their deeds were, at the same time, quite real.

Blinking the sweat out of his eyes, Harry shook his head, staring at the normal rotunda around him, the new fish globe standing proudly in the centre. 'Wonderful - now I really am seeing things.' But no - Cally burrowed deep in his arms, her tiny body shaking violently; he was almost grateful for her distress because it reassured him in an odd fashion that if he were indeed going mad, at least he would have pleasant company. Cally once again dug in her claws, raking deep furrows in his arms, hissing as the rotunda once again disappeared.

Dumbledore raised his arms in benediction and spoke The Words of power as the four surrounding him joined hands, sealing the spell. With a mighty shake, the floor heaved and ripped asunder all around them as eight slender columns rose majestically out of the churning earth. Gleaming white at birth, they quickly took on the stain of their dam, a rich loamy brown that hinted at fertile fields and ripe crops. Higher and higher they rose, stretching beyond his sight until he had to wonder: how high was the sky?

Which one was real? The dream or the reality? Suddenly he knew it was both. "Severus? What the hell is happening?" he whispered desperately, head pounding, as his mind was inexorably drawn back into the vision. Cally mewled pitifully, her wildly swishing tail beating his side.

He wished he could hear the incantation - and the music, he knew there must be music for creation magic this strong. He ached for it, sensing he would sob and shiver with its beauty. With five mouths exultantly forming soundless syllables, he could only watch as the rotunda was born out of the hearts and minds of those defining it with potent words and immutable magic. The floor heaved one last time, then lay still. In waves, like a pale, rippling Aurora Borealis the colours of the four houses, the walls shimmied into place, shivering as if cold.

"Master Harry!" A hand was shaking his arm. "Master Harry, you must not remember!"

Slowly the openings appeared one by one in the pale stone face. A swirl of whirling magic sparkled its way up around the perimeter of the columns. Like a leaf caught in an updraft it turned and turned and turned until it was lost from sight. In its wake, the ramp formed, growing along the path of shimmering magic like ivy winding its way up a large tree. Solid, but made of air, it climbed until lost to the human eye, yet Harry knew it went on forever.

"Master Harry! Please, stop! Oh, this is not good."

A light shone from above, landing on Dumbledore. Warm like the first spring sun on the last winter's snow, it slowly moved over the gleaming space, thawing its icy dreaminess into solid reality. Climbing, it traced the path spiralling upward until it stopped, flashing bright. As it travelled back down, Harry could see the dome in place. Slowly it descended, coalescing into a focused beam that lighted on each of the four, but only for an instant. Almost reluctantly it returned to illuminate the headmaster, who held out his hand as he turned to face...

...the five people disappeared to be replaced by one very worried house-elf stroking his arm urgently and one purring cat.

"...all right. You are back now."

There it was again - and the headache was gone as well. This time, with a concerted effort, he ignored Dobby's stare and saw the house-elf step back, his eyes widening in alarm. Stroking Cally's soft fur, Harry, holding back the anger he could feel bubbling up inside him, remarked seriously, "I think, very soon, Master Dobby, you and I are going to have a long, meaningful chat. Aren't we?"

"Yes, Master Harry," he said forlornly, his eyes fixed on Harry's face. He bowed his head and, with a 'pop', he was gone.

Harry stared at the spot Dobby had just occupied wondering why he felt so vexed with the elf. They were done with the rooms, Dobby had fed him, and he'd even managed to rid him of the headaches he'd been having off and on all morning. Shrugging, he took Cally into the nook to feed her; he didn't think he'd ever heard a cat's stomach growl with hunger before, but it was louder than her purring.

'It has been a very strange morning. First I thought I'd seen the walls moving, then I thought the floor was shaking, and now I could have sworn I'd seen a flash of light cross the rotunda.' Harry shook his head at his fancy and chuckled. 'Maybe this was what happens to depraved husbands who don't get their morning endorphin fix. I'll have to ask Severus later about any known anti-hallucinatory properties of 'Severus snacks'.' Then the chuckle turned wicked. 'If I time it right, I might even make him spew his tea.' The thought of Severus' inevitable retribution for that cheered him immensely.

As he left to go join Severus for lunch, he stopped to admire the fish swimming happily in their new tank. Staring at their antics, the thought, 'I wonder how many times I'll have to see whatever it was I saw before I'll be allowed to remember it?' flashed across his mind, much like the fish's bright colours flashed amongst the lush water plants; just as quickly, they were gone - and unremembered.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

Knowing he was already late, Harry ran down the corridor, heading not for the doors of the Great Hall, but sprinting into the staff room. He'd lost precious time taking care of Cally (although the fish in the rotunda had gone far to placate her after she'd wolfed down a full bowl of food). Taking a calming breath, he quietly walked through the door at the back of the staff room to his place at the Head table.

Immediately he noticed Albus' place was empty and, leaning over, asked Severus, "Where's the old bugger?"

"Minerva said he is off on school business and expected back by the end of lunch," Severus replied, eyeing the light sweat on Harry's forehead. "Running a bit late, were we?" he asked sweetly.

"You're lucky we're in public," Harry muttered. Smiling wickedly, he asked, "Any explosions this morning?"

With a twist of his lips, Severus replied, "I almost felt sorry for the poor sods. My classroom was spotless and I think I heard cheering when I walked in this morning. I soon disabused them of their misguided notions that Septimius is 'worse' than I am."

"I'm sure you did," he murmured, chuckling at the picture that made. Harry couldn't help but stare at those lips, wishing he could kiss them right now and, chortling, sent the thought - with graphic detail.

A small spot of colour rose in Severus' cheeks. "We're going to have to have some rules about those types of thoughts during the day," he whispered.

Harry just sent him another and grinned when Severus retorted, "That was not precisely what I had in mind."

Their banter light, they quickly ate while Harry described the changes he'd made to the apartment. Severus seemed pleased that he'd been able to at least create an evening space for them. "It wasn't everything I wanted to do," he said, finishing up the last bite of a thick roast beef sandwich, "but Dobby said the elves are forbidden to change Wizarding space."

A grimace crossed Severus' face before he smoothed it into his normal blank mask. "Well, that's not entirely accurate. For the most part the house-elves can change Wizarding space, just not that kind of Wizarding space."

'Ah, maybe he could get some answers now,' Harry thought, jumping on the statement. "What kind is it?"

Severus wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it aside. Glancing around the half-empty Great Hall, he said quietly, "We've some time before I'm due to leave and this is not the place to discuss 'it'. Shall we retire to the staff work room?"

Curious as to what needed to be said in private, he admired the view as he followed his husband into the room used by the staff between classes and for meetings with the headmaster. Remus was the only occupant, his face hidden behind a Muggle newspaper; Harry wondered if he wasn't actually asleep. Severus settled in a squashy chair on the far end of the long room where no one would disturb or overhear them if they spoke softly enough. The sun from a nearby window illuminated Severus' face; thrown into sharp relief from the harsh light, Harry gasped at the lines bracketing his spouse's mouth and across his forehead, lines that hadn't been apparent in the dimmer, softer lighting of the Great Hall. Studying him closely, Harry could see where his eyes, sunk deeper into their sockets, bore puffier dark circles under them. "Severus, are you feeling all right?"

Severus struggled to hide a yawn. "I'm fine, just a bit tired; it will take me a while to get used to the time difference. I didn't sleep - well."

Harry didn't think he needed to verbally express his scepticism.

With a heavy sigh, Severus amended, "All right, I didn't sleep much at all. I woke up shortly after we went to bed and had some difficulty getting back to sleep."

Harry raised his brows and closely studied the fine cracks in the ceiling, idly wondering what spell one would use to fix...

"Damn, you're worse than a quintaped!" Severus hissed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Hiding a smile, Harry shook his head, asking pointedly, "Would you, if it were me?"

His mouth set in a thin line, Severus ground out, "No. I suppose not." Looking everywhere but at Harry, he added, "Very well. I went walking, hoping I could tire myself out - unsuccessfully, I might add." He unexpectedly chuckled. "Though I did manage to work my way through the 'Urgent' pile of Owls you left for me in my office."

Harry was hard-pressed to restrain further questions concerning the wide gaps remaining in Severus' 'expanded' explanation - like where he'd gone and why he needed the time away; however, for the moment at least, he decided to accept Severus' answer at face value.

Feigning a leer, he instead remarked, "You should have woke me; I've quite an extensive ala cart menu of late-night-'snacks' that might have been more - appetising - than walking around a cold castle." When Severus gave a throaty laugh, Harry continued, "In any event, I'm assuming you'll have no homework to grade tonight, so perhaps we can retire earlier and get back into this time zone? Hmmm. Maybe even a bath beforehand?"

Harry supposed, after Severus started growling at him, that he might have sent his lover a tad too many images of what he had in mind; he'd just wanted to make his intentions perfectly clear, of course. Unrepentant, he said, "As much as little Harry would love to discuss this further, I believe you brought big Harry here to answer a question? About house-elves?"

Severus eyed him warily, but with a quick glance at the clock, his face and voice fell easily into lecture mode; Harry squelched the old ingrained response by slouching in his chair to listen as Severus began without preamble, "I've always thought more time should be spent on the theory of magic than on any foolish wand-waving..."

Where had he heard that before? Severus cleared his throat at Harry's knowing smirk.

"...but I do not have much say as to the curriculum other than my own discipline." He closed his eyes as if trying to find a starting place. Opening them a few moments later, he began, "As you know, out in the real world, any fumble-wanded idiot can make Wizarding space to suit as long as they know the proper spells. However, here at Hogwarts, the castle's wards do not allow such casual manipulation."

Severus paused as the staff room door opened.

Noticing Severus' distraction, Harry twisted in his seat and saw McGonagall, Sprout, and Hooch walking towards them; he found their loud chatter most annoying, especially as it interrupted what little time he had to talk to Severus before his appointment. Nodding in greeting, but otherwise ignoring them, he turned back to Severus, saying with quiet earnest, "Go on, I'm interested. There's been some..." An inner voice whispered that it was better to leave it unsaid. "No matter. You were saying?"

His eyes following their progress across the space, Severus continued moderately, "Of course, the castle itself can mould its space to its specifications and often does; witness the moving stairs and the Room of Requirement. As it's almost sentient, we are often left with the consequences of its whim."

Harry chuckled, noting that Remus had joined the witches on their way out the door. When the lock snicked closed behind them, leaving Severus and him alone, he said, "Arthur Weasley told us at the end of second year not to trust anything that could think for itself if one could not see where it kept its brain. Somehow I don't think he was talking about the castle, though."

Expecting a response, he sharpened his attention when he received none - not even a snort or an annoyed huff. On the surface, Severus appeared as serious as he ever did, but the tiny lines contracting around the corners of his mouth clearly told Harry that his spouse was grossly unhappy. And he didn't think it was because of him, although he suspected it had something to do with him.

Shaking his head as if clearing it of an unwanted thought, Severus continued as if Harry hadn't spoken, "Be that as it may, Albus can, within limits, twist Wizarding space within the castle to suit his whims via his prerogative as headmaster, such as the Wizarding space connections from room to room we both have experienced..."

Columns erupting... The front of his skull started a low throbbing, just on the verge of discomfort.

"...However, he cannot make sweeping changes, such as what was done to our apartments without tapping into the castle's elemental magic..."

The ramp sparkling with magic... Gaining strength, the headache travelled across the top of his head.

"...It's this magic to which Dobby refers; the house-elves can change anything made by Dumbledore by his personal magic alone..."

A white shining figure... The ache rolled down the back, curling and grabbing hard at the base of his skull, spreading until his whole head pulsed in counterpoint to the blood pulse he could feel pounding in his body.

"...but the Accords of Riese forbid them touching anything made with elemental magic - it's what got them into trouble in the first place."

Gritting his teeth against the growing pain, Harry asked, "But what about you and the other heads of house? I remember Minerva once banishing walls and corridors to reach a classmate badly injured in one of the unused hallways. Isn't that another manifestation of Wizarding space?"

"An interesting question and one not quickly answered." Severus gazed out the window. "Each head of house is - inducted - into the position; it's not just an 'assignment'. The 'castle', for lack of a better term, had to accept and recognize each of us as individuals, and in return we were given..."

Four people bathed in splendour... The pressure mounted in his head, blocking sound, Severus' voice faded until all he could feel was the air of his words' passage across his face. It hurt to feel Severus breathe.

Wisps of memory stirred only to flit away before he could grasp them. Shuddering, he tried to recapture their elusive familiarity... The pain intensified. Swaying in his seat, he watched his lover's face fade in the haze of his misery as he tried to convince himself that his brain was not going to explode. With a low cry, he gripped the top of his head with both hands as if to keep it attached.

"Harry! Are you all right?" he heard Severus crying as if far away as he jerked forward to cover both of Harry's hands with his own. "Dear gods - Harry? Can you hear me?"

With Severus' touch, a tangle of jumbled impressions flooded him... the castle, Albus, a promise...

Staring at him fixedly, Severus broke out into a cold sweat. A horribly familiar feeling coursed through Harry, one superimposing itself over the pain now spreading down his neck and back, one he'd not felt from Severus since the end of the war, but often experienced during his training with him.

Abruptly, their bond severed from within. The headache disappeared, as did the impressions he'd almost comprehended.

The cessation of pain with its sudden rush of sound and light was almost as uncomfortable as what had caused the deprivation in the first place. Panting, trembling from the aftereffects, he whispered, "Severus? What's happening to me?"

Severus took Harry's hands away from his head and held them tightly. His eyes softening around the edges, he leant in, placing his mouth near Harry's ear as he said softly, "Forgive me, love, but I can't - for a small while at least."

Harry nodded; he'd thought as much before, but he didn't like having his suspicions confirmed. An unwelcome notion occurred, causing his stomach to contract. Dobby had stared. Severus was still staring, the force of his regard identical to that which Harry had always hated during their Occlumency lessons. No, Severus wouldn't do that to him, would he? Surely his husband knew how much he abhorred it, even if it was for his own good?

And yet - the bond was closed to him, seemingly with purpose.

Suddenly, he had to know. "How did you block it? How did you make the headache go away?" He hesitated, terrified of the possible reply. "It's not Legilimency, is it?"

Shocked by the question, Severus blinked. "No! Never! I am not Albus!"

Feeling terrible for even bringing it up, Harry spoke quickly, "I'm so sorry, I should have known better than to..."

Severus' hand covered his mouth; he could smell the bread from lunch on his fingers. "However, I can easily understand why you might think so - what I am doing right now is quite similar, so I cannot be offended by the question." The gentle caress across his cheek was warm and soothing, full of all the love he couldn't otherwise feel. "I'm blocking our bond with a type of Occlumency and will continue to do so until - this - is resolved." His face fell. "I should be the one apologising; I am the direct cause of your distress, and I may not explain further than to tell you it will be over, very soon, to our mutual satisfaction. I promise you this."

Harry had to ask himself: was the absence of pain worth even the temporary loss of their bond? With no answer in hand, he had to ask, "Why? What's...?"

Severus leant in close, whispering so faintly Harry had to strain to hear him, "Harry - please - don't - not here."

Harry pulled back enough to examine Severus' face. A piece of stone would have been easier to read; even the little tell-tale signs he'd learned over the years were absent. Except Severus' eyes. Studying the subtle downturn at the edges, he realised Severus was almost pleading. For what? His silence? Or his blind trust? He tenderly cupped Severus' cheek, his robe sliding down his raised arm. Eyes locked, he murmured, "You'll always have it, Severus. I'll wait until you're ready."

Eyes closing in relief, Severus turned his head and kissed Harry's palm. Taking his hand with a soft, "Thank you," he started to lower it, then stopped halfway. Eyes fixed on his exposed arm, Severus carefully pushed the loose sleeve up, turning his hand over to reveal the long scratches and deep claw marks Cally had left, already turning an angry, puffy red. With a startled oath, Severus asked, "What happened?"

Harry shook his head in disgust. "Oh, that's just from me being stupid. I finally found Cally in my study, scared to death, but - idiot that I am - I picked her up anyway. She wasn't too happy with my decision, as you can see." Or at least he thought that was what happened; it was all a bit hazy. He looked them over professionally; they needed to be tended. "I'll stop by to see Poppy before my appointment with Albus this afternoon."

He supposed he deserved the sceptical frown Severus gave him; he never voluntarily went to the infirmary for anything to do with himself. Holding up his hand, he chuckled lightly. "Yeah, yeah, yeah - I know. I promise. All right?"

"See that you do," Severus replied, a smile twitching his lips.

"Yes, mum." With a prudent glance around the room, he took the hand still holding his and placed it back on Severus' knee with a pat. "I have to go soon," he said with real regret; he missed having his spouse around all day.

"I miss you, too, you impudent whelp." Severus stood abruptly and headed for the entry to the main corridor. At the door he turned to look at Harry a long moment, his dark eyes once again unfathomable. "Indulge me a moment. Why do you want Albus to teach you?"

Changing tracks, Harry thought about it. "I don't know; it just feels urgent to do so," he answered honestly. When no reply was forthcoming, he moved to stand next to his spouse, adding softly, "I'll let you know when I figure it out myself."

"Fair enough," Severus replied, his face thoughtful. His eyes flicked over Harry's shoulder and, leaning in, gave him a brief kiss. With one last, piercing gaze, Severus opened the door and was gone in a swirl of robes, leaving Harry feeling a bit guilty for delaying him as the bell, marking the beginning of the afternoon classes, clanged loudly.

.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.

TBC