Chapter Three: Day of the Child: Third Day Before the New Moon
With his hair whipping around his face, Severus arrived near the edge of a high, Quidditch-pitch-length plateau. A hint of lavender coloured the sky, and silhouettes of random large rocks and stone formations stuck out from the flat landscape. The temperature was surprisingly hot, and the air smelt like woodsmoke and dry earth.
He yanked his arm out of Cégirmir's grasp and stepped away, carefully avoiding the steep cliff behind him, Potter doing the same.
Should I try to stun him again? Potter thought.
No, Severus forcefully thought back, causing him to jump. We need more information first.
"Where have you taken us?" Severus demanded, having to tune out Potter's subsequent mental hysterics and arbitrary notions.
Cégirmir raised his eyebrows. "Home, of course." He dramatically swept out a hand. "Welcome to Danu.
"And where exactly is Danu?" Potter asked as he slowly began to turn in a circle while Severus silently kept his eyes on Cégirmir. "Are we in some magical pocket in Scotland? No. The stars look different; I can't place them. Wait. Have we lost or even gained time? Last I knew, it was midmorning, not past sunset or before sunrise. But what I'd really like to know is why you abducted us? Why did you bring us to wherever this is?" he said in quick succession, typically taking a more Gryffindor approach to gain more information.
"Severus, what do you see in the sky?" Cégirmir asked.
Potter, he thought.
Yeah?
Watch him.
After Potter gave a slight nod, Severus cautiously turned around.
Beyond the plateau was a desert of greenish-grey soil; a mountain range in the distance, so far away it looked like a line of hills, was likely the reason for the pocket of arid terrain. His eyes followed the skyline, and what he saw made him gape.
"There are two moons," he said with wonder. He quickly returned his gaze to Cégirmir. "One is golden in colour and nearly full, and the other is a red-hued crescent. Both are near the horizon but have opposite cycles, with one setting and the other rising.
"Is it morning or evening, and in which direction does Danu rotate? Is it widdershins?" Severus asked, his curious nature getting the better of him.
A smile spread across Cégirmir's face, showing his pointed teeth. "Will wonders never cease? I questioned whether you would be able. To answer you, the time is nigh dawn, and unlike Earth, our star, Aná, rises in the west or, as you would term it, moves deosil or clockwise."
"Where are you seeing these moons?" Potter asked in frustrated confusion. "I'm not seeing either of them."
"Magic shaped Danu and placed it on a convergence of worlds," Cégirmir explained. "Depending on a being's innate magics, the sky here will appear different to them, its true splendour hidden.
"On your Earth, this place is known as the Otherworld, and we are called the Tuatha Dé Danann, better known to you as the noble sídhe or faerie folk."
Potter's eyes grew as large as cauldrons. "We've…we've crossed into the land of the faery?"
It seems we've travelled to an alternate dimension or, possibly, are on a different planet altogether, Severus thought to himself.
"A different planet?" Potter nearly shouted.
With an expression of slight puzzlement, Cégirmir's gaze switched back and forth between them.
"Is speaking mind-to-mind an old occurrence between you or something new?" Cégirmir asked.
Severus connected his eyes with Potter.
Do you know why this is happening? Potter asked him. If not, maybe your dad will know why.
Him being my biological father is still under question. But since he already sussed that we are both experiencing this involuntary form of Legilimency, I shall concede the opportunity of possibly stopping it outweighs the risk of confirming it.
Severus brought his attention back to Cégirmir. "It is a recent occurrence," he answered.
Cégirmir nodded as though expecting Severus' answer. "I presume it is due to your newfound bond?"
"Bond?" Severus and Potter asked at the same time.
Understanding struck Severus. "You mean the life debt."
"Life debt…" Cégirmir repeated. "Life debts are more a wizarding concept. Their lives are much more fragile than ours. I, myself, am in my sixth millennium."
Severus' mouth parted at the ramification of what that meant for him.
"Yes," Cégirmir agreed, perceiving his expression. "You, Severus, are more or less immortal now. And, it seems, you are at the mercy of our accord. My people know it simply as maintaining one's honour. But at its root, it means all favours must be balanced with one in return. Mortals refer to them as wishes"—Potter's eyes widened—"while we call them boons; regardless of what they are known as, they create a debt or bond until fulfilled.
"Usually, a granted boon lasts until the rising of a moon, be it in the morning, afternoon, or evening. Wanting anything magically sustained for longer increases the prospect of unforeseen and, likely, unfortunate consequences."
"Is that why there are werewolves?" Potter asked, looking thoughtful, and Severus was taken aback by his insightful question.
Eyes gleaming, Cégirmir nodded. "Yes. The result of a witch trying to twist a boon too long." He paused for a moment. "Tell me, Harry Potter, what was the exact wording of yours?"
Potter frowned. "How do you know who I am?"
Severus wondered the same, the desire to intercede and push Potter behind him rearing its head. Did the fae have a secret hand in the war? Were they unhappy with who came out victorious?
Hearing Severus' thoughts, Potter's expression changed from confused to worried.
Cégirmir chuckled. "Wouldn't I be a poor excuse of a king if I didn't know the name of the wizard who ended the latest wizarding war?"
"Oh," Potter said abashedly. "But the war didn't end just because of me." He glanced at Severus and smiled. "It took a lot of people." He inhaled a deep breath. "As for this boon, I can't say for sure what my exact words were. If you have something like a Pensieve, we could look at the memory there. I do know I said the word wish and something along the lines of I wanted him to be more open and"—he blushed—"happy.
"But I accidentally made this boon on Earth, so is it still tied to Earth's moon, or has it switched to the moons here?" He peered up at the sky.
"Foremost, Mr Potter," Cégirmir said, regaining Potter's full attention, "the boon is bound to you, and you are here. But you can see neither of Danu's moons. Thus, until you return to Earth, it will not end." He smiled apologetically. "As I am sure you have noticed, moons are very important to us. We live by them, and today, we are celebrating the Day of the Child: the third day before our moon completes its cycle.
"Come," he boomed and pointed his hand behind Severus and Potter.
Flames erupted in the air, providing more light. Then, with a rustle and a rumble, heavy overgrowth slithered away, and like a giant's game of Gobstones, massive boulders rolled away, revealing a large pitch-black crevice shaped like a horizontal crescent.
"Do keep your wands put away," Cégirmir said. "They are not looked upon with kindness here." With that, he crossed inside, disappearing from view.
"Should we follow him?" Potter asked.
"We are in an unknown, possibly treacherous world," Severus said. "What choice do we have?"
Potter sighed. "I thought I'd finally get to start making them for myself once Voldemort was dead."
Severus huffed. "As did I."
After they grudgingly stored their wands in their forearm holsters, they entered the darkly grinning entrance, him leading.
The first thing he noticed was the lighting: golden sconces holding what appeared to be a type of lotus glowed purple and lined the walls.
Great Merlin, I can see his arse? Potter thought, causing Severus to almost miss his next step. And…what an arse it is, Potter added.
An instant later, Potter gasped. Shit! Shit-shit-shit…
Severus didn't comment like he'd done for all of Potter's other inane thoughts, but this time, he couldn't stop his cheeks from feeling like they were on fire. He glanced down and saw his feet clad in bright blue socks. Ugh! he immediately thought, followed by: Should I try to close my gown better, or will that only bring more attention to my arse?
Potter groaned. Just kill me. Kill me now…
Opting to retie his hospital gown, Severus carefully did so while walking. He also surveyed their surroundings: The width of the space was about three arm spans across, and the height three times that. The hewn walls were smooth and looked like glittering black opal. The air wasn't cold, stale, or damp, and the longer he concentrated on it, the more he sensed the promise of vibrant life.
Cégirmir was nowhere in sight, but there was only one path, so they continued.
As they strode side-by-side, Severus recalled what Potter had said earlier outside the entrance: how he'd acknowledged him, had genuinely wanted him to be happy…
Unlike before, Severus couldn't use his Occlumency to smother and bury the weirdly soft emotions building inside his chest. Feigning composure, he waited with dread for Potter's reaction.
But there wasn't one.
Severus' shoulders relaxed. It seems this affliction is limited to mental dialogue and doesn't include feelings, he thought, scorning the last word.
Potter looked at him with his eyebrows high, and Severus grimaced. He heard that.
Potter's lips twitched, and his eyes twinkled with amusement.
Severus stifled a groan, and Potter laughed softly.
Rounding a corner, they saw Cégirmir standing about a hundred feet away. However, Severus had no desire to hurry. Each step was a pleasure to take. He marvelled at how effortlessly his body moved. He'd never felt so fit.
Don't look, Potter thought frantically. Don't think…
Severus chuckled at Potter's attraction towards him. Truthfully, a part of him was…flattered. During his formative years, he'd come to accept he was homely or, on a good day, striking, as in unusual, not good-looking.
But now, he was changed. He was an ethereal sídhe with long flowing hair and radiant skin. Minus his Occlumency shields, which continued to elude him, he was still his same unpleasant self. Thus, Potter's interest was purely superficial.
Grimacing, Severus recalled how transforming had felt, the sensation of his bones stretching, different magics battling inside him. He could finally empathise with Lupin's plight as a werewolf. That Lupin had to suffer it every month for countless years was inconceivable. But he had carried on, eventually falling in love, marrying, and fathering a child. In the end, he'd been a brave and good man.
I'm glad you feel that way, sir, Potter thought.
Severus turned and found Potter looking at him with a dreamy, dewy-eyed expression.
"I wish he could have known," Potter said.
Could have, Severus thought, regret enveloping him.
"Yeah," Potter sighed. "But, one day," he said, more hopeful, "I'm sure Teddy would love to learn about him from you: the good and the bad." He smiled weakly. "I know I would."
"Even if it's disappointing?" he asked, thinking of Tobias and Cégirmir.
Potter crookedly grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Since everyone isn't perfect, isn't everyone kind of disappointing?"
Again, Severus was dumbfounded by Potter's profundity, so he remained silent and tried not to think.
When they reached Cégirmir, he smiled at them. "Did you two enjoy your stroll together?" he said, playfully wiggling his eyebrows. He chuckled at their matching cauldron-about-to-explode expressions.
"Now, as we travel further inside the Hollow, do not stray," Cégirmir warned. "Its magic will become more potent, and it enjoys playing tricks. I shall show you to your rooms so you may freshen up before the dinner feast, which will commence shortly."
"Dinner feast?" Potter repeated. "I thought you said it was morning here."
Cégirmir gave them a toothy smile. "On Danu, we primarily sleep during the daylight hours."
"Let me guess," Potter said dryly, "vampires are because of a boon, too."
Severus held back a chuckle; when not aimed at him, he found Potter's cheek almost amusing.
"Yes," Cégirmir confirmed Potter's wry statement. "A human wanted to become like a fae. They gained our nocturnal inclinations, beauty, and immortality, but at a cost."
"How do we know you're not lying and plan to sacrifice us to your moons or drink us dry?" Potter asked.
Cégirmir laughed loudly. "Though one of my people may have created the blood-drinkers, we are not them. We are fae.
"But, where there is myth, there tends to be a seed of truth. You see, Mr Potter, unlike blood-drinkers, my kind cannot speak a lie." He looked at Severus. "However, as long as our mouths remain silent, we can tell ourselves as many lies as we desire." Chuckling, he started down the path.
Shall I forever be in a state of having imbibed a truth potion? Severus wondered, following Cégirmir at a sedate pace.
"My name is M—" he began but choked before he could finish, the word Minerva left unsaid.
Severus humourlessly laughed. I've lived a life of lies, and now I'm sentenced to live only in truth. How terribly fitting. He sighed.
Passing under an elaborately carved archway, the light sources switched from solemn purple to stark bright white. And from somewhere—Severus wasn't sure if it was directly ahead—he heard the playful babble of water.
Gradually, the environment around them changed as well. At first, vibrant mushrooms dotted the bottom corners, then swaying ferns the shade of blood orange pulp appeared. Just in case, Severus kept away from the hand-like fronds, as did Potter.
They rounded another bend, and Potter said what Severus felt: "Wow."
The floor rippled like a smooth stream of water. But walking through it, they remained dry. To either side of the tunnel, a multicoloured row of trees lined the walls, each tree being only one colour: black or white, red or green or violet, and various shades in between. Branches overhead created a continuous canopy, some decked with fragrant flowers while others carried tantalising fruits.
Potter stopped to get a closer look, but Severus pushed him forward.
Next, they entered a courtyard with docile animals amongst manicured gardens. An illusioned sunny turquoise sky canopied the space. The area was empty of any fae except for Cégirmir, Severus, and one sídhe in rich carmine robes who was purposefully striding towards them.
When the sídhe arrived, he bowed to Cégirmir: "Your Eternal Luminousness." Then, bowing again, he greeted Severus: "Your Royal Brilliance." He glanced at Potter and gave him a polite nod of his head.
Severus marvelled at the sídhe's hair, which looked like a cascade of actual gold.
"What news have you, Lord Ypirnín?" Cégirmir asked.
"Everything is ready, sire," Lord Ypirnín replied.
You…you can understand them, Potter thought.
Potter, what are you blathering about?
Sir, I can't understand a word they're speaking, but I know you can through your thoughts. I reckon they're speaking Fae.
Severus was flummoxed. I can understand Fae? No. 'Fae' wasn't what it's called, he somehow knew. The language is called… Danu'sa, which directly translates to Tongue of Danu. I wonder if I can speak it.
If it's hereditary, like being a Parselmouth, Potter thought, I'm guessing you can.
Sporadically, they encountered various additional fae: some were tall and two-legged like himself and Cégirmir, and others would have been labelled as creatures by the Ministry. But Cégirmir treated them no differently, giving them the same respect. In return, they all bowed not just to Cégirmir but also to him, which was quite surreal.
They eventually stopped at a set of French doors made of solid amber. Light shined through them, making the honey-coloured material glow and illuminating the tiny bubbles, leaves, and insect-winged faeries trapped inside. Two foot guards wearing a uniform of black robes and carrying a sword at their side stood at attention. They had shiny chestnut hair and solid black gazes. Next to the guard on the right was a stately female sídhe with large mono-lidded eyes. Her artic blue hair was styled into an intricate bun, and her irises were a disconcerting red.
Cégirmir gestured for her to come closer. "Lady Provaora," he said, again speaking in English.
Standing before them, she bowed. "Your Eternal Luminousness," she said, following Cégirmir's language change, but unlike his, her voice had a slight accent. "Your Royal Brilliance," she greeted Severus, then she turned to Potter. "And you, sir?"
"Oh," Potter said, taken by surprise. Besides Cégirmir, she was the only fae who had spoken directly to him.
"I'm Harry Potter," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he added, scrounging up some manners.
Lady Provaora gave him a soft smile.
While looking at him and Potter, Cégirmir gestured at the doors. "This bedchamber is yours to use as you please."
"We're sharing?" Potter blurted, his eyes large and voice pitched higher than usual.
"Because of your…circumstances," Cégirmir said, appearing amused, "you both would become…uncomfortable if you parted from each other for too long. That is why I also brought you to Danu and not just Severus."
"Oh," Potter said weakly.
"I must go. Lady Provaora will prepare both of you for the feast," Cégirmir said, his charming demeanour softening the direct order. "Then she and the guards will escort you." Seeing Potter's worried face and Severus' wary one, he chuckled. "Sirs Enason and Dýod are from my personal guard and are oath-bound. They are here for your protection. Once you are better acquainted with the Hollow and the court's politics, they will be dismissed." He surprised Severus by placing a hand on his shoulder. "I shall see you soon."
As Cégirmir strode away, Lady Provaora lightly clapped her hands once: "Well," she said brightly, "let us get started." She spread her hands, extending her arms gracefully, and the chamber's doors magically swung open.
Severus' lips parted while Potter audibly gasped.
Entering the room was like stepping outside into an exotic private garden. Flowering plants were everywhere, many of them floating, their long vines spilling onto furniture. To their left, a waterfall cascaded into a pool and next to it in a grotto was a gently steaming hot spring. The view to their right looked endless, an untouched landscape as far as the eye could see.
But what really caught both Severus' and Potter's attention was the single bed in the middle.
We're going to have to sleep together! Potter frantically thought. A pink flush staining his cheeks, he remedied: I mean, we'll have to share a bed…for sleeping. Just sleeping. Not sex. Although…he is— No. Just for sleeping…
Feeling himself start to inappropriately harden, Severus swallowed: Thank Merlin, my gown is loose.
He's relieved his gown is loose? Potter asked himself. Why would he… He inhaled sharply with realisation. Closing his eyes for a moment, he pressed his lips together. Shit! No! Not right now! Wincing, Potter strategically clasped his hands in front of him. Why do jeans have to be so damn tight…
"If you are wondering," Lady Provaora said, "the toilet is behind the waterfall."
"Now," she said, pointing at Potter, "let's start with you."
"Me?" Potter asked, nonplussed.
She slowly walked around him, then tipped his face up. "Lovely eyes."
Lady Provaora nodded. Moving a few paces away, she curved her fingers together like they were holding a small ball and slowly spread her hands. Once they were about a foot apart, she pushed them forward.
A flash of light appeared, followed by a burst of cool mist. Then roots, leaves, flowers, precious metals, and gems materialised and began to weave together in mid-air. Severus and Potter watched in wonder as a set of deep purple formal robes and a pair of black boots formed, no wand waving required.
Once done, she floated everything onto the right side of the bed.
She did the same for Severus, but his completed robes were white and more opulent and detailed. His items were placed on the bed's left side.
Severus had never seen such magic and had to ask: "Lady Provaora, how can you perform such magic? I attempted to use mine, but it behaved erratically."
"Sire," she replied, giving him a reassuring smile, "you are new to our ways and likely can only call on one or two of The Seven Branches at a time.
"To create your attire, I required organic ingredients: Nature. To grow them, I needed Light and Water: two more branches. Adding finery, I used gems and metals from deep beneath the soil: Danu. And to shape all the ingredients together, I called on Fire and Air. The only branch I did not use was Darkness.
"You may have lost your ability to use your wizarding magic, be it spells or crafting concoctions, but your fae magic is strong, sire. With time, you will master it all."
Crafting concoctions? Potter thought, alarmed. "Do you mean Professor Snape can't brew potions anymore?"
"That is correct," Lady Provaora said, confirming what Severus had been afraid of. "The use of a wand, however minimal, is required to make a potion. And, on Danu, we are chosen, not by a magical stick, but by the very fabric of the world around us."
Severus' heart split in half, accepting what choosing to live had truly cost him. His mum had taught him to brew before he could remember; she had learnt the art from her father and he from his. Potioneering was a part of the Prince family's legacy. And now it was all gone. He would never be able to lose himself and find peace in a potions laboratory again.
Potter gazed at him sorrowfully: I'm sorry, sir.
He nodded, accepting the kind sentiment.
"Well," Lady Provaora said, her demeanour more businesslike, "I shall leave you two for a few minutes to wash and dress."
She bowed and left.
Severus turned to Potter. "For a semblance of privacy, one of us should use the waterfall and the other the hot spring."
A hot bath sounds like heaven, Potter instantly thought.
Severus snorted with humour. "That settles it, then."
Facing opposite directions, they undressed. The moment all their old garments were off, a horde of faeries swooped down and stole them away.
My pants, Potter grieved as they hurried to their respective places to wash. At least they didn't get a hold of our wands. He patted the mokeskin pouch hanging from his neck. Or this.
Severus agreed, glancing at his holster. His wand was useless to him, but he still had a sentimental attachment to it.
Potter moaned as he settled in the water: So warm…
Gulping, Severus walked into the waterfall's spray. He sighed in pleasure. The temperature was perfect, not too cold but cool enough to feel invigorating. He searched for soap but only found a bowl of round white berries. Severus lifted one and squashed it, discovering it smelt fresh, like sage and cedarwood, and slightly lathered between his fingers.
Interesting, he thought. The berries are for washing.
Potter heard him and followed suit, grabbing a handful of berries from a nearby bowl and rubbing his palms together until they were soapy.
Concentrating on his task, Severus tried not to think about how Potter was naked only a few feet away or how much Potter wanted to look at him: A peek couldn't hurt, Potter argued with himself again. Curiosity is only natural, was his subsequent justification. And on it went.
But, as tempted as each of them was, they refrained, even while dressing.
Thank Merlin the link doesn't include visual thoughts, Severus mused as he tied the provided silken belt around his waist.
Potter barked out a laugh. Yeah, he thought in agreement from the other side of the bed.
Once fully attired, they both relocated next to the bed's foot end.
Gazing at Severus, an appreciative gleam filled Potter's eyes. "Sir, you look great."
"I'll take your word for it," Severus said dryly, glancing down at all the white.
"No. Look." Potter removed his wand and aimed it: "Videse."
As expected, a framed mirror appeared; however, its size was five times larger than required.
"Woah," Potter exclaimed. "That felt weird."
"How so?" Severus asked, envious of Potter's wand use.
"The…flavour of magic here feels different. I can channel it fine…but it seems stronger, more concentrated and wilder somehow, which makes it harder to control."
They both turned and gazed into the mirror.
I look quite ostentatious, Severus thought. Standing side-by-side, he also noted their drastic height difference, the top of Potter's head barely reaching the height of Severus' chin.
Potter noticed it, too, and pouted: He's grown so much taller. How is that even fair?
Severus objectively studied Potter. As he did so, his eyesight sharpened, enabling him to see the nuances of Potter's features. He determined they were neither wholly Lily's nor James Potter's but uniquely his own. In the last year, Potter had undoubtedly changed, the days of being an immature boy having been cut, cursed, and bled out of him. Now, a man stood by his side—and a handsome one, at that.
Their gazes connected, and the building tension between them felt like it was on the cusp of spilling over.
But, before a word could be said or an action taken, three polite knocks rapped on the door.
The door cracked open.
"Sire, may I come in?" Lady Provaora asked.
"Yes," Severus said, his voice husky. He cleared his throat. "You may enter," he said while Potter quickly Vanished the mirror, put away his wand, and attempted to look nonchalant.
Catching sight of them, Lady Provaora beamed. "You both look fetching."
After circling them like an ambush predator, she stopped in front of Potter with narrowed eyes. "No. This simply will not do," she said, referring to his unkempt hair.
Lady Provaora summoned a few pink blossoms from one of the nearby plants. After crushing it between her hands and letting the wind carry away their crumpled remains, she combed her fingers through Potter's hair. Incredibly, his dark locks went from a riotous mess to perfectly styled gentle waves.
Seeing the use of the flower brought to the forefront of Severus' mind that he'd never be able to experiment with the plethora of possible potions ingredients in this new world. It ate at him. But witnessing Potter's unexpected loveliness somewhat made up for it.
The universe showed Severus some mercy: his hair didn't require taming or coercing. All Lady Provaora had to do was style his hair half-up-half-down, similar to Cégirmir's. She also created a jewelled silvery circlet and laid it just so on his forehead.
Stunning, Potter thought, staring at him, and Severus' fair skin bloomed pink.
After one last critique of their appearance, they left for the feast with Lady Provaora leading and Sirs Enason and Dýod bringing up the rear.
As they journeyed through the Hollow, they saw one wonder after another, to the point the wizarding world began to look dull in comparison. And as foreign as their surroundings were, Severus still felt as if he somehow innately belonged.
Lady Provaora proudly shared fascinating facts about certain landmarks along the way, turning their trek into an impromptu tour.
"The path to our left," she explained, pointing at winding crystal steps, "leads to a cove with a beach made entirely out of pearls rather than sand. Its beauty is so renowned it is named Óneireamh, meaning a dream. The sensation of the pearls on one's skin is especially delightful."
"Lady Provaora, I've been wondering:" Potter said, "King Cégirmir is the ruler of Óirysos. Does Óirysos translate into anything?"
An excellent question, Potter, Severus said, and Potter preened.
Lady Provaora paused for a moment, then answered: "Óirysos translates to gold: for the moon and court. The opposite moon and court are called Folaíma, which means blood. Each court can only see its respective moon. On the rare occasion that a child is born of both courts, they are tested and then placed accordingly. As painful as it might be, it must be so."
Severus frowned. What does it mean that I can see both moons? Cégirmir knows but hasn't spoken about it since. Either it's not important or too dangerous to even mention. I'll need to collect more intel before deciding for myself.
"So, is Folaíma considered the dark court?" he asked.
"There is no light or dark, Seelie or Unseelie," Lady Provaora admonished. "Those are mortal notions. We on Danu are the Gealgar Leaidiá: Children of the Moons.
"Unlike on Earth, our people do not have life partners, so we have bestowed our moon the endearment Sonúin, which roughly translates to beloved." She smiled warmly. "Our Sonúin is our mother and father, our friend when our hearts are full of joy or sadness, our brother or sister when we need to unburden ourselves of secrets or require protection from harm. Our Sonúin is forever our power and pride. Being unable to share in celebration of them would cause our hearts and magic to wither."
"If you're so close to your moon, why do you all live underground?" Potter asked.
Lady Provaora's face darkened with sorrow and fury, her ancient age revealing itself in her eyes. "War."
Severus and Potter knew about war. They asked no further questions, letting Lady Provaora's harmless chatter fill the time.
Eventually, they arrived in front of towering carved double doors made of the same black-opal stone as much of the rest of the Hollow. A set of uniformed porters with moth-like wings stood on either side. After bowing, all four flitted into the air and pushed against the entrance.
With a low boom, the doors opened, and a tumult of festive music, murmuring voices, and the sound of rushing water surged into the corridor.
Blocking their way was an antlered fae with caramel skin. He had a human face and chest, the rest of his body that of an elk. When he saw Severus, he showed respect, slightly bending a knee. "Your Royal Brilliance," he said in Danu'sa.
"Sir Melgofór," Lady Provaora greeted, likewise using their native language, and handed him a slip of parchment.
He accepted it and bowed again. "My Lady."
After reading the note to himself, Sir Melgofór inhaled a deep breath: "Lady Provaora!" he loudly announced, his voice magically carrying to every corner of the vast space beyond.
"Sire, Mr Potter," she said to them, "please enjoy the festivities. Brightness find you."
Once she'd entered, to Severus' and Potter's astonishment, she quickly rose into the air and out of sight.
"His Royal Brilliance, Severus, Prince of Óirysos and his guest, Mr Harry Potter!" rang out a second later.
As he and Potter wondered where they were supposed to go, brass instruments played a flourish.
"His Majesty, the King!"
"You both look splendid," Cégirmir jovially said from behind.
Severus and Potter spun around, surprised to see Cégirmir grinning at them. He wore a different style of robes, still the same snowy colour as before but more structured. He also wore an elaborate enamelled crown of vines with small ruby flowers.
"Sirs Enason and Dýod, you may take your leave for now," Cégirmir ordered.
"Sire," they said, scurrying off like a pair of black beetles.
"Let us find our seats," Cégirmir said, and before either Severus or Potter could utter a sound, they were airborne, rocketing upwards.
Since Severus and Potter were used to magical flight, they took the opportunity to look around.
The chamber was a mammoth cavern that could easily fit five Great Halls stacked one on top of the other. Like the Great Hall, the ceiling was enchanted, showing a twilight sky. Amongst the red-ivy-covered walls, multiple waterfalls cascaded, one into a sizeable pond with lounging aquatic fae. Small, lush islands of varying sizes floated at differing heights around the periphery. Some of them had dining tables, while others had performers: singers, musicians, dancers, and jugglers.
They landed on the island with the most fae, all already sitting. Everyone quieted as Cégirmir, Severus, and Potter found their places. Cégirmir's seat was directly in the middle; Severus sat on his right, and Potter took the empty chair next to Severus. The only familiar face they recognised was Lord Ypirnín, who sat beside Potter. The tables were set with elaborate centrepieces, and each place setting had seven different drinking glasses, but the only utensil beside each service plate was a sharp eating knife.
After a longer music piece played, this time the brass instruments accompanied by full orchestral support, Cégirmir spoke: "On this Day of the Child," his voice boomed, "we gather to celebrate the sacredness of youth, curiosity, and growth. May Danu eternally bless you, and the light of our Sonúin guide you. Let us dine!"
At his last word, an army of faeries swooped down, filling goblets and laying down plates of amuse-bouche. Potter moved to pick up the delicate morsel of food, but before he could, Lord Ypirnín's fingers covertly wrapped around his elbow to stop him.
"Think hard whether you want to take that bite, Mr Potter," he softly warned, his accent more pronounced than Lady Provaora's. "By consuming the food or drink here, you will gain immortality on Danu, but it would mean you can never return to your life on Earth. To try would lead to a quick death, for mortal food would be as nutritious as ash. Earth will also reclaim any time humans gain on Danu, ageing their flesh, sometimes resulting in immediate death."
Potter sighed, moving his hand away from his plate. Won't be the first time I've had to go without food, he thought. He smiled at Lord Ypirnín gratefully.
Severus frowned. Go without food? Potter must be referring to when he was on the run. But more importantly, he won't be able to go without water for long.
Where are they? Potter wondered, his attention elsewhere. He craned his head to better see their surroundings. I don't see any…
"Er, Lord Ypirnín," Potter tentatively began, "if this is the Day of the Child, where are all the children?"
Lord Ypirnín guffawed. "A child hasn't been born on Danu for four centuries."
"Is that normal?"
Flippantly waving his hand, Lord Ypirnín commented, "When you can live forever, where's the need to propagate?"
While Potter continued to chat with Lord Ypirnín and Cégirmir had a deep conversation with the fae to his left, Severus idly let his gaze wander as he picked at the next course, not wanting to eat since Potter couldn't. More closely studying the attendees, most of whom were wearing pastel robes, he found them lofty and slightly stiff in their finery. Unsurprising since they were all far beyond the age of what was considered geriatric.
Potter attempted to repress a laugh at Severus' unflattering thought.
Severus also soon realised that the floating islands moved up and down like a slow, never-ending funfair ride—one he couldn't wait to get off.
He concentrated on the desire to speak in Danu'sa: "Your…Eternal Luminousness," he said, remembering Cégirmir's proper form of address from earlier.
Cégirmir looked at him, taken aback. "Yes, Severus?" he answered, replying in English.
Having got Cégirmir's attention, Severus switched back as well. "If I were to return to Earth, what would the consequences be?"
Cégirmir's expression became pensive. "You would not be the first fae to leave Danu for Earth. Unlike a mortal who has partaken of this world, you will not die within days but weaken over time. Still, you will likely have a longer life expectancy than a typical wizard."
Severus took a moment to admire the splendour around him. "Would I ever be able to return here?"
Grimacing, Cégirmir said, "The answer to that question is more complex."
"How so?"
"As I am sure you know, humans, including wizardkind, have soulmates: their heart's desire."
Severus snorted with derision. "I can't believe you're spouting off the same balderdash as my mother. And what do—"
"Let me finish before you speak," Cégirmir commanded, his tone of voice causing a trickle of ice water to slither down Severus' spine.
"To have a soulmate is said to be a curse," he continued.
Curse? both Severus and Potter alarmingly thought.
"Fae do not want to be at the unwitting mercy of their hearts. And we have not been burdened by such since time immemorial." Cégirmir stared at Severus. "That is, until you."
Me? Severus thought in disbelief.
Cégirmir smirked. "We are immortal. Why would we want to limit our opportunity to enjoy the delights of the flesh? But in your case, Severus, you are restricted to a certain extent by your soulmate."
"You know who my soulmate is," Severus said, his heartbeat accelerating.
"Is it not obvious?" He glanced at Potter, who, with large eyes, looked back and forth between him and Severus. "It is true you have a bond with Mr Potter because of your life debt. But the tie between your souls is what truly binds you."
"Harry Potter is my soulmate," Severus said blankly, not wanting to believe it but knowing Cégirmir couldn't lie.
"We're soulmates?" Potter asked in shock. No…fucking…way… The next instant, the deluge of his conflicting thoughts nearly drowned each other out.
Cégirmir chuckled. "Of course, you are soulmates," he confirmed. "Severus, you would already know this if you had not constantly suppressed your emotions and lied to yourself. And if Mr Potter had been appropriately informed of soulmate lore and not been tainted by magic, as clear as the scar on his forehead, he would know as well.
"Severus, since your Occlumency failed you, how often have you felt a particular itch when you gazed at him, a sensation you could not quite name that buzzed around your heart and mind? Whether you would prefer it or not, now that your souls have somewhat acknowledged one another, where one is, the other must go."
Potter, Severus thought, his emotions a mess, what do you want to do?
I'm…I'm not sure, sir, Potter answered. I understand what the king meant; I've felt what he mentioned: the itch. At first, I thought my new feelings for you were solely because of your change of appearance. But then, thinking back, I've always been aware of you, always focused on you. Now, the thought of being apart from you…it's like a Bludger to the chest, like I can't breathe. I…I don't want to be away from you, and I know how you feel about this place, but I also care about a lot of people on Earth. There are funerals I need to attend and friends I'd dearly miss. Plus, there's this weird connection between our minds we need to put an end to. I already had one with Voldemort—not that I'm saying you're like him—I just want my mind to be my own, you know?
Potter's words confused, thrilled, and agonised him. Danu felt like home; next to it, Hogwarts paled in comparison. His regard for the castle had been stomped down by obligation, pain, and guilt. However, no matter how much Severus felt he belonged in Danu, he wouldn't want to deprive Potter of his friends, of those he loved.
I understand, he thought before asking aloud, "When will it be possible to return Potter and me to Earth?"
Cégirmir inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. "Is that your desire?"
"It is."
"Then I shall make it so: tomorrow at Danu's dusk."
Severus narrowed his eyes. "If you're so willing to let me go, why did you want to bring me here in the first place?"
Cégirmir sighed wistfully. "The birth of a fae child is rare, and one born of the royal line is rarer still… I could say the reason was the prospect of you becoming heir or fatherly sentiment, but largely, I was curious."
Curiosity? Severus thought with cynicism.
"Severus, let us not waste the time we have together. Tell me about your life, about how your mother is fairing…"
Hours later, with his stomach empty but his mind full of incredible tales of Cégirmir's, his father's, long-lived life, Severus left the feast hall. Cégirmir guided him and Potter back to their bedchamber's doors while the foot guards, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, shadowed them.
"I shall see you on the morrow," Cégirmir said, a hand on Severus' shoulder. "Please enjoy the rest of your evening." He smiled dashingly at Potter, then bounded away.
Sirs Enason and Dýod each opened one of the double doors, and Severus and Potter hurried inside, glad to be rid of their stony-faced babysitters.
Potter sighed in relief once the doors clicked shut. He tugged at the high collar of his robes. "Merlin, I can't wait to get these off." Once he registered what he'd just said, a lovely blush flooded his cheeks. "I mean," he quickly amended, "so I can change into something more comfortable…to sleep in."
Although, Potter thought, sleeping naked wouldn't be so bad either.
The image of him and Potter bare and entwined on the bed snuck into Severus' mind. He rushed to change the course of his thoughts and searched the room with his eyes.
Seeing the starry-sky environment beyond the balcony, Severus realised all of it was an illusion or magical creation. He knew if he were to leave the Hollow, Danu's star, Aná, would be bright in the sky. He also noted there didn't appear to be a wardrobe or chest of drawers with spare clothes. Severus guessed fae routinely made their clothes like Lady Provaora had for them.
It couldn't hurt to try, he thought.
Severus inhaled a deep breath and positioned his hands in front of him.
First, he thought of cotton seeds, and five tiny white seeds appeared. When they began to fall, Severus swiftly called on Air to keep them aloft. Next, he summoned Water and Light, which was a struggle, but he managed. To his wonder, the seeds immediately sprouted, and a few seconds later, soft, fluffy balls floated before him. Using Air, he spun the material into thread, then weaved it into fabric. The result was a plain nightshirt. And although it was slightly uneven in places, it would do.
"That's brilliant, sir!" Potter effused, and Severus cracked a smile.
This magic wasn't instantaneous, the entire process taking about five minutes, but the way it flowed through Severus and sparked every cell in his body made him feel…restored, like all his dark, rotten parts had been planted in rich soil and emerged untainted.
He rubbed the nightshirt's smooth fabric between his fingers. Unlike typical transfiguration that lost strength over time, this magic wouldn't fade; it had a permanence. Knowing the theory and practical application of spellcraft, he considered whether it could be applied to The Seven Branches. Could he combine them and instantly activate them as a spell? Now that Severus thought about it, when he had cast Lumos or Videse, the spells hadn't performed as expected, but they had worked. However, they were on the simple side.
I wonder what would happen if I attempted a more complicated charm?
Severus genuinely smiled. He may have lost his ability to brew potions and use a wand, but he now had an entirely new category of magic to explore.
He repeated the process to make a nightshirt for Potter, resulting in an even better-constructed garment.
While Potter used the toilet and changed behind the waterfall while stewing or fantasising over their upcoming sleeping arrangement, Severus undressed and donned his nightclothes, navigating similar thoughts. To keep himself busy, he used his magic to create a wardrobe with hangers for his and Potter's robes and accessories. The completed furniture piece had the appearance of a silver birch tree, smooth white with dark, rough patches, and had melded into its surroundings, appearing as if it had always been there. The hangers were an amalgamation of polished wood and metals and looked like the attempt of a first-year.
Severus sighed. He had a lot to learn.
He hung his robes, put away his boots, and placed his circlet on a shelf. He stared at the bejewelled head ornament with unease. It symbolised his new identity as sídhe royalty. Just thinking that thought struck him as odd. Severus shook his head.
I can't go out there, Potter thought for the hundredth time. No. I'm overthinking things; just because we're soulmates doesn't mean he'll jump me at the first opportunity…
Severus rolled his eyes and started for the waterfall. "Potter, I know you're done. Get out. I need to use the toilet."
"O-okay," Potter called out.
A moment later, he dashed out from behind the sheet of falling water. As he passed him, the bright, glowing orbs that floated throughout the room revealed the contours of his lithe body, and Severus realised just how thin the nightshirts he'd made actually were.
Red-faced, Potter scurried onto the bed and under the covers, then chanced a glance at Severus. Wow, he thought. He looks incredible. His eyes widened, and his lips parted slightly. Fuck! We're both clearly not wearing pants. What if our nightshirts ride up while we're sleeping and we both have morning glory… Potter softly groaned in mortification and removed his glasses, setting them down on an intricately carved stump of a tree functioning as a bedside table.
Feeling his body respond, Severus gulped and rushed to use the toilet.
Not known for being a coward, he finished his business promptly. Then, taking a breath, he headed towards the bed. As he walked, Severus scowled at the room's brightness. He was used to living in the depth of the dungeons and sleeping without a sliver of light.
"Potter," he said, lifting the covers before sitting down, "would you use your wand to extinguish the lights."
"Oh! Sure." Potter removed his wand from his holster. "Nox."
But the glowing orbs remained as bright as ever.
Severus sighed. Though unlikely, he got off the bed and searched for a switch.
Finding nothing, he frowned in thought: Clearly, wizarding magic won't work. So then…it has to be one of The Seven Branches…
He grounded himself and focused on the magical concept of Light, the orbs, and the idea of them going out. He closed his eyes as warmth pooled inside him, then expanded.
When Severus looked, he found his effort had partially worked: the room was now dim, but still, the orbs annoyingly remained lit.
Then he remembered the last branch of magic that Lady Provaora had mentioned: Darkness. It made sense that it had practical applications. And she hadn't spoken ill or warned him against its use.
Not wanting to create a black hole or worse, Severus called to mind the concept of Darkness like he approached delicately adding ingredients to a volatile Mandrake Restorative Draught. He conjured images of shadows, the space between stars, then visualised Darkness gently cupping its hands around the chamber's lights.
An instant later, only the soft glow of a night sky filled the room. Severus' eyes immediately adjusted, and though the room remained dark, he could easily distinguish his surroundings.
With sure strides, he moved towards the bed. As he walked, he saw Potter searching for him with squinted eyes, widening them when Severus sat down.
Severus buried his legs under the sheets, then covered himself with them to his chest. Under the shared blankets, he sensed Potter's body heat and gulped. He quickly shut his eyes and concentrated on clearing his mind.
But that soon proved impossible.
Merlin, I'm so thirsty, one of Potter's thoughts, once again, intruded. I'd kill for a Butterbeer right now… Maybe conjuring some water wouldn't be so bad—
Stop letting your mind go in useless circles, Severus chided. You already grasp the issue: Danu's magic, not Earth's, would be used in its creation. It's too much of a risk.
Potter sighed. Yeah. I know… There is something that's technically not food or drink that I could…
Stop that train of thought this instant, Severus desperately demanded as an image of Potter with his mouth— Stop this instant, this time directing the order at himself.
Then what do you suggest, sir? Or should I be calling you sire?
For some reason, the idea of Potter addressing him as such made him want to recoil, so in a moment of lunacy, he quipped, Why don't you just call me by my bloody name?
"Severus," Potter said softly like he was tasting a new sweet.
Severus shivered. "Yes, Harry?" he mocked in an attempt to hide his discomfort.
Potter only smiled. "I like it, you saying my given name." I feel like you're speaking to me, that you see me and not just my dad, he thought rather than saying aloud.
I…see you, Severus affirmed after a moment, recalling some of Potter's unvarnished thoughts he'd heard throughout the day. He knew, without a doubt, that the man beside him was good, kind, and honourable, not an arrogant bully like James Potter.
Potter turned to face him and propped his head up with a hand. "So, what do you recommend we do to help me not think about how thirsty I am?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. If he thought Potter had a Slytherin bone in his body, he'd assume Potter was trying to be suggestive.
He moved onto his side to look at him more easily. "Perhaps we should chat until you're too tired to do anything but nod off."
"Okay," Potter said, grinning. "And, if you call me Harry, I'll be sure not to address you as sire.
Severus snorted in amusement. Maybe he did have a spec of Slytherin in that brain of his.
They continued to talk into the night, sometimes speaking with words, other times only thinking them. But what remained constant as the hours flew by was their use of each other's first names.