AN: Okay, so it's been awhile…a year…since the last update. I bet the original fans of this story would love to hit me with something like bricks or small rocks for leaving this so long. In my defense, I did hand it over to someone else to finish it but I guess it didn't work out. I don't really have an excuse, just that I was kinda burned out on Harry Potter and writing in general. I've had the summer off to relax some and I feel like writing again. So here I am.
Chapter 11Saturday was fast becoming Harry's favorite day. A good Saturday meant Hermione, Ron, and Neville would be willing to spend some time outside on the fringes of the forest or playing chess in the common room. A great Saturday meant time with his two-legged friends in the morning, and then a walk through the forest with Severus at night. A spectacular, wonderful, amazing day meant he would get to see a quidditch game. Much to Harry's delight, on the Saturday following the incident with the troll, all the things he enjoyed would hopefully take place on the same Saturday.
The morning had been spent in the greenhouses where the group of four friends indulged Neville by allowing him to putter around with the plants. Ron and Harry played chess nearby on a dirtied table while Hermione read. Occasionally, she would stumble across a particularly insightful passage that she would read aloud. It always presented a strange idea that caused Harry to ask a question, which had sparked several discussions so far about the differences between their cultures. Hermione's choice of text that particular Saturday was a history book – specifically about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his rise to power.
"Oh, Harry, listen to this! Did you know He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named originally had followers other than witches and wizards? This text said he had two giants, several vampires, and even a centaur. It's this author's opinion that he used the centaur for his visions. Of course, Professor McGonagall says Divination is too imprecise to be of any real use. Mostly its just charlatans fogging up balls with their own breathing and thinking it means hazy weather's coming."
Harry had been about to reach for a sip of his butterbeer, but his hand froze mid-way. Ron raised an inquiring brow. Hermione's mouth made a surprised little 'O' when she realized what she'd said.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I know Divination is important to centaurs. It's just that not many witches and wizards are very good at it, and the true ability has been cheapened in our culture. I didn't mean to insult you."
Harry nodded, and his hand continued to reach for the drink.
"I don't know about your visions and prophecies, but ours are very sacred. Divination is the foundation of our herd. Reiki guides us through visions. He shows us our path. For centaurs, it's not about knowing the future. It's about knowing ourselves. It puzzles me that there is no spirituality in the world of wizards and witches. Don't you ever feel lost? How do you know when you are adults if you do not have your Minnetarre? I still have many questions about two-legs."
Hermione's eyes positively sparkled at the large opening Harry had given her to ask about the culture of centaurs. She'd learned in the past that when she brought the topic up, Harry's answers were evasive at best. However, if Harry mentioned something, it usually meant he would give a semi-straight forward reply. She would start with the obvious. Just as she was about to open her mouth and let loose with an educated question, Ron interrupted.
"Yeah, well, to each his own. We better hurry to the stands, or we're going to miss the beginning of the game." Harry smiled broadly at the red head and stood up hastily. Neville knocked some dirt off his hands.
"I'm ready when you guys are."
Her opportunity foiled, Hermione huffed in irritation as she packed away her book. Perhaps Harry would still be in the mood to chat after the game. Quidditch usually made him childish in his excitement. He might be less reserved and cryptic than he usually was. Maybe. The life of a budding scholar was difficult at times.
With the exception of Hermione, the group was in good spirits when they reached the stands. As they approached the entrance, Harry spotted Severus walking alongside Professor Lupin. Harry could see through Severus's seemingly emotionless façade. His companion was angry. The large centaur's tail gave him away. It flicked from side to side agitatedly, despite the fact that there weren't any flies bothering him. His limp was less pronounced but still noticeable. Harry had yet to ask him about what had caused it. Automatically, Harry started to walk towards Severus. Hermione and Ron started to follow, but then noticed Neville and stopped. The mousy boy had his hands stuffed in his pockets, staring resolutely at the ground and the stands – anywhere but at Harry. Hermione analyzed the situation and reacted accordingly.
"Harry, why don't you go talk to him alone. We'll go get seats," Hermione said crisply. Grateful for the excuse to flee and avoid the company of Snape, Neville took off in the other direction without another word. Hermione, after an apologetic glance at Harry, followed him. Ron started to leave as well, but Harry caught his sleeve.
"I know Neville doesn't like Severus, but he doesn't normally run away from him. What's troubling him?"
Ron shifted from side to side, obviously uncomfortable answering Harry's question.
"Look, mate, now's not the best time. Hermione didn't want me to say anything to you, but we'll meet up later and talk about it. We can go to greenhouse six. It's usually empty. I'll meet you there after the game, okay?"
Confused, Harry could only nod before Ron left him standing alone as the spectators milled past him, slowly filling the stadium. Abruptly, Severus left the professor's side and joined him.
"I assumed you'd sit with your little friends. Perhaps you've finally realized what a waste of time he is. You should sit with Theodore Nott. He's exceptionally intelligent," Severus said by way of greeting. Harry scowled up at him, his hands automatically coming to rest on his hips.
"I don't know how 'friends' plural became 'Neville' singular, and I get the distinct impression something is going on between you and Neville that no one is telling me about." As Harry expected, Severus merely scowled at the stadium and offered no explanation. Harry's expression darkened. Severus was blowing him off, and he didn't like it. He cleared his throat and poked Severus in the chest. "And as for Nott, despite his alleged intelligence, he's friends with Malfoy. In case you've forgotten, Malfoy is the reason why I could be executed."
Severus sighed in irritation and his fists clenched.
"Which is why it wouldn't hurt you to charm him. If you befriended him, he might convince his father not to press forward with the charges against you. Of course, that would require you to have an ounce of sense in that thick skull of yours."
Harry's green eyes narrowed in anger. His back hoof stomped, causing a third year that had ventured too close to his flank to scurry away from the bickering couple. Harry had thought it impossible, but Severus's lips thinned even further.
"Control yourself, for Reiki's sake, colt."
"I don't know what put you in such a bad mood, but don't take it out on me! In case you haven't noticed, I seem to be the only one around here that actually likes you. I don't like you insulting my herd!"
Severus's eyes widened and his own back foot stomped, his tale slashing back and forth.
"Those brats are not your herd! I'm your herd. They are wizards – not centaurs!"
For a heated moment they glared at each other and then Harry's brain processed what Severus had said. Severus must have realized the implications belatedly as well, because his face and chest flushed with color. He broke the glare and refused to meet Harry's eyes, staring instead at the full stands towering above them. The last stragglers had long since entered the stadium, and the announcer's voice was already booming.
"You stomped your hoof, too," Harry pointed out, his arms dropping to his sides, a teasing smile replacing his scowl. Severus snorted, turning as if to simply avoid the rest of the conversation. Harry smiled and trotted after him, practically prancing, because it was obvious who had won the argument. Feeling almost invincible with happiness, not even remembering what had happened the last time he'd tried to steal a kiss, Harry reached for Severus's hand and tugged him around. The blush was gone and only the fierce scowl remained. Undaunted, Harry swiftly tangled his fingers in Severus's mane and pulled him down for a kiss.
Almost immediately, the tension drained out of Severus's shoulders and arms. His muscular torso relaxed into Harry's, his long, tangled mane shielding their faces. For Harry, it was perfect. Severus's arms moved to embrace him tightly, and the kiss turned passionate. Harry closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the sensations vibrating him from his hooves to the very tip of his nose. His body felt weak and his heart fluttered erratically. When Severus broke the kiss, Harry clung to him still, wishing, longing, pleading that the moment did not have to end.
Severus brusquely shook his arms loose and put some distance between them. His eyes were dark and filled with emotions Harry couldn't even hope to interpret. Innocently, Harry licked his moist lips and Severus had to look away from the sight of him.
"I…you…" Severus tried. The words were like rocks falling out of his mouth – too heavy to possibly connect. Harry smiled mysteriously, quite pleased with his newfound power to make Severus speechless. It would certainly come in handy the next time Severus decided to lecture him about 'rash behavior unbefitting of a respectable centaur.'
"I'm going to go sit with my friends. I'll see you later tonight." Harry ambled to the stand entrance, knowing Severus's eyes were glued to his flank. Perhaps swishing his tail seductively was unnecessary after kissing the centaur speechless, but Harry did it anyway just because he could. He had a feeling that sexually frustrating Severus was going to be his new favorite hobby.
Up in the stands, he didn't really have as much interest in the game as he usually did. His eyes were riveted to the stand across from his where Severus stood, arms crossed over his broad chest, staring at the swirling dots above him as if they were stars he was deciphering. The other professors sat near him, chatting and watching the game with great interest. At that point, it all happened very swiftly. While the crowd was distracted by the game, Neville began to twitch strangely. Hermione noticed it first. By the time Harry looked for himself, Neville was frothing at the mouth, his limbs twitching and jerking helplessly.
"Hermione! Snape!" Ron shouted. Harry watched in confusion as Hermione's sharp gaze turned towards the teacher's stand. Severus was staring at their group intently, his lips muttering something quickly and steadily. Hermione slipped out in all the confusion, but Harry scanned the crowd to try and track her. Meanwhile, Neville continued to spasm as if he were having a seizure of some sort. He couldn't seem to breathe. Ron sat beside him, panicking, unsure of what to do.
And then Harry spotted Hermione's head poke up from the stairwell leading to the teacher's stands. Her wand poked out next, and then a little fireball was speeding towards Severus's tail.
Harry's eyes widened, and he shouted a warning that was lost in the noise of the crowd. Eventually, Severus noticed the heat and turned wildly, his tail soundly whacking several of the other teachers and setting their robes alight. McNair pitched forward, patting awkwardly at the lit hem of his robes. Finally, Dumbledore doused the flames.
"What just happened to me!" Neville questioned weakly, massaging his bruising throat. Ron cast a dark glare at the teacher's box and then pulled his friend up by the shoulder.
"Come on, Nev, let's get out of here." As they passed, Ron stared at him significantly. "We still need to talk. Greenhouse six. Half an hour." With that, he was gone and the game continued, most of the crowd oblivious.
Harry's first instinct was to rush to the teacher's stand, but Hermione was climbing up the stairs as he was going down. He glared at her.
"You set him on fire!"
"I know, Harry, but Neville started breathing again, didn't he? I know this must look crazy from your point of view, but something is going on with Snape. I know he's your…err…companion…but you have to hear me out on this! I seriously think he's dangerous."
"Oh, he'll be dangerous alright. You set him on fire, Hermione! He's going to stomp you to death when he realizes it was you!"
"Forget that, Harry. There's something bigger going on and it's scaring me. You have to hear me out. Please?" Her brown eyes were huge and insistent, and for just a moment, Harry doubted.
Severus himself admitted he'd been exiled for murder.
Harry sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped, and a little part of him hurt terribly inside.
"Alright, Hermione, I'll hear you out. Whatever you've got against him…I'll listen."
She nodded, brushing away the tears that had gathered in her chocolate eyes.
"Thank you. That's all I ask."
"Ron told me to meet him at the greenhouse. We can go together."
Hermione reached up, slowly, offering her hand to him. He closed his eyes tightly and remembered the feel of Severus's kiss. When he opened his eyes, they shined with steely determination. Hermione's hand waited, and Harry reached for it, knowing he was taking the first step in betraying the centaur that meant the most to him.
He was suddenly very, very sad, but he would not – could not – be a coward. Whatever darkness gripped Severus, he would face the truth of it and not shy away from it.
A/N: So there you go. The story continues. I really am sorry for the delay. Forgive me? Please? And, just in case you're wondering, I'm going to finish my other fics when I finish this one. That includes 'Now Hiring' and 'The Nature of Horcruxes.'