AN: Thanks for all reviews. I've had several requests for art from the tattoo's to members of the Bar. Personally I can't draw a straight line with a ruler, so if anyone is interested please let me know, you would have my undying thankfullness and hugs. Now on to a long chapter.

A Time to Grow

October 1997

For the two months since they had fought the Death Eaters and destroyed the Horcrux, Harry had been trying to convince Devlin that he was ready to be on his own. Harry wanted to move back to the Potter house, alone. He wanted privacy. He was tired of being dependent on the Bar and felt he could protect himself. Devlin disagreed, often and loudly, but Harry would not be dissuaded.

Taking one last look around the room he'd called his own for the past several months, Harry sighed fondly and called, "Dobby."

Two seconds later the little elf popped into the room. "Oh, Harry Potter, sir, is coming home now? Yes?" he asked happily.

"Yeah, I'm coming home. That's the last of it," Harry said, pointing at the trunk Spencer had given him. He watched as Dobby snapped his fingers to levitate the trunk. "I have to say goodbye, then I'll be there."

"Dobby is waiting. He has made your favorite crab cakes for dinner," Dobby said gleefully. "Dobby is so glad that Harry Potter is coming home!" The elf bowed deeply, then disappeared with Harry's trunk.

Making his way to the sitting room where everyone would be gathered, Harry took a deep breath to brace for the newest confrontation he expected from Devlin. He was surprised to find all the Bar except Devlin present. Turning to Luc, Harry raised an eyebrow. "Where's Devlin? He knew I was leaving."

"He didn't get his way, so the git is probably off pouting somewhere," Luc drawled.

"I do not pout," Devlin growled, as he strode into the room. Turning his shrewd pale green eyes on Harry, he demanded, "Do you still intend to go through with this despite my disapproval?"

Squaring his shoulders, Harry met Devlin's stare with an obstinate light in his eyes. "I appreciate everything you've done for me," he started. "But it's time for me to move out."

The two men stood staring at each other for several tense moments. Finally, Devlin smiled wickedly and tossed Harry a small silver box. "If you can stand up to me and everything I've put you through these last few weeks, then you are prepared for most anything," he admitted softly.

Completely speechless at the revelation, Harry stared blankly for a moment. Coming back to his senses, he glared at Devlin. "It was all a test?" Harry asked incredulously. "Another damn test… Don't you ever get tired of doing this shite to me?" he growled.

Devlin enfolded Harry in a tight hug, ruffling the black hair. "I'll never stop testing you, brat."

Pushing away from Devlin, Harry glared as he straightened his hair out. "What's in the box?" he asked cautiously.

It seemed the whole Bar had been aware of Devlin's motivations. Gabriel approached once it was clear Harry wasn't going to hex the older man. He ran his hand down Harry's hair, which now reached the bottom of his shoulder blades. "You can open it, it's not part of Devlin's devious plot," Gabriel said, shooting a grin at Devlin.

"Open your present, brat," Devlin commanded. "It's from all of us, we intended to give it to you sooner, but there was never an appropriate occasion."

Harry examined the simple silver box carefully for a moment, and then lifted the lid. Inside was a thick silver ring with Runes etched into the outside. Harry looked up at Devlin questioningly.

Gesturing Luc over, Devlin said, "Let Luc explain. He designed the damn thing."

Taking the ring from Harry's hand, Luc pointed to each Rune as he explained them. "Basically the Runes represent each member of the Bar, including you and Severus. There are also some asking for protection."

Vane stepped forward and held out his hand, showing an identical ring. "We all wear one; there is a tracking charm on it in case it's ever needed."

"Even Severus wears his at all times, though he tends to keep it on a chain," Luc added.

Quickly glancing around, Harry noticed they all wore the rings. "Why haven't I noticed the rings before?" he questioned.

Smiling smugly, Luc said, "I charmed them to be visible only when you are made aware of them."

Harry nodded, and Devlin tugged at his hair to gain his attention.

"The ring is a reminder that the Bar will remain unbroken," Devlin began softly. Spencer joined the group; he squeezed Harry's shoulder and then stood beside Gabriel.

Locking his eyes with Harry's, Devlin said intently, "And that you will always belong with us. No matter where you may travel, you will always have a place with the Bar Sinister."

Sebastian approached from behind. He leaned in close and muttered in Harry's ear, "Whether you want it or not." He walked to Vane's side and winked.

Surrounded by the Bar, Harry dimly heard each member's quiet agreement with Devlin's words. He realized then, that at long last he had a home. Not a physical place, but people who supported him unconditionally.

For the first time since Sirius died, Harry was near tears. He felt overwhelmed by the Bar's gesture; it was finally clear to him that he really did belong. Straightening his shoulders, Harry slipped the band onto the ring finger of his right hand. His eyes touched each man around him; deeply moved, Harry offered a softly spoken but heartfelt, "Thank you."

April 1998

Easter holidays brought Harry and Snape back to Sinister Place for the second year running. Once again Harry studied the Pensieve memories, certain he was overlooking an obvious clue. He was watching the memory of Tom Riddle's confrontation with Morfin Gaunt, when he got the urge to check the Gaunt shack. Deciding there was no time like the present, Harry put away the Pensieve and headed out to find out who was available for a Horcrux hunt.

A few minutes later, Harry stuck his head in the library, half expecting it to be empty as all the other rooms he'd checked. Pleased, he noticed Snape intently studying a dusty old tome at the table in the center of the room. Curious if he would be able to, for once, approach the older man undetected, Harry softly padded directly behind Snape. As he was lifting his hand to tug a lock of inky black hair, Snape growled, "Was there something you needed, Potter, aside from the incessant urge to torment me?"

Grinning unrepentantly, Harry dropped into the chair beside Snape. Watching the man's face out of the corner of his eye, Harry asked casually, "What are the chances that there is a Horcrux in the old Gaunt place?"

Lifting his head from the page, Severus tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear as he considered Potter's question. "What is the rationale behind your conclusion?" Severus asked curiously. It did make sense that the Dark Lord would hide a Horcrux in such a place, but he was curious as to how Potter deduced it.

Seeing that Snape was genuinely curious and not disbelieving his suggestion, Harry answered. "It was the home of his relatives with Slytherin blood, which he was proud of," Harry explained. "Plus, it's so isolated and run-down, that few people would think to look there." Sighing, Harry added reluctantly, "And it just feels right for some reason."

Giving Potter a stern look, Severus said gruffly, "Do not discount your instincts. They have served you well in the past." Potter gave a sharp nod and Severus added, "I acknowledge that the Gaunt house is a location that needs to be searched."

"Can we go now?" Harry asked, sitting up and staring at Snape intently. He didn't want to take the chance that if they waited too long the Horcrux would be gone.

Severus turned to face Potter. Seeing the determination in the younger man's eyes, he sighed. "Very well. You will have to content yourself with only my assistance if you insist on doing this now, however," he said tersely.

"I noticed you were the only one here," Harry said, shrugging nonchalantly. "But I think between the two of us we can handle anything that comes up," he added confidently.

Closing his book, Severus stood and placed it neatly back on the appropriate shelf. "Leave a note for the Bar. I will collect the Animus Conserco and meet you out front shortly," he said as he headed to the door.

Harry agreed easily. Quickly pulling a sheet of parchment and a quill from the nearby desk, he scrawled a short message to the Bar, stating where and why they'd gone. Note written, Harry walked to the front door and waited patiently for Snape to return with the soul potion.

Silently exiting the house, Severus had an unexpected opportunity to watch Potter without chancing any comments on his observation. Slytherin to the core, Severus selfishly took the moment to study the young man before him. Potter had not grown since the blood magic had changed him; it seemed he would grow no taller than his current 6'1". A truly remarkable height, considering the malnourishment of his formative years… Though with regular food and exercise the brat has filled out admirably.

All in all, Potter had grown into a remarkably handsome man; there was no trace of childishness left. Even while relaxed, he emanated barely leashed power. In Severus' opinion, Potter was not attractive in a classical fashion; instead, he was potently masculine, an appealing example of all he'd ever desired in a companion.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Severus cleared his throat as he approached Potter. "As you have recently viewed our destination it would be prudent if you utilized Side-Along Apparition."

"All right," Harry said. Stepping closer, Harry took Snape's arm in a firm grip. "Ready?" he asked. At Snape's nod, Harry concentrated on the lane he'd seen outside the Gaunt cottage and Apparated them both with little more than a thought.

They arrived in the precise spot Harry had aimed for, on the lane a short distance from the sad, run-down cottage. After scouting the area and finding it clear of any danger, Harry and Snape approached the dilapidated shack. The door had seen better days; it was nearly falling off its hinges when Harry eased it open.

The inside of the building was depressingly grim. A rusted, soot covered stove rested crookedly in a corner, and the table had collapsed long ago with the chairs strewn haphazardly around the room. Very little light entered the filthy windows, and the floor was covered with a thick layer of what Harry hoped was only dust and dirt.

Severus sneered at the disgusting shambles, quickly casting charms on himself and Potter to prevent the filth from attaching to their bodies. A cursory glance showed no obvious hiding place for the Horcrux, so Severus turned to Potter and asked, "Have you learned to detect latent magic?"

"Yeah, but I'm still a little slow at it," Harry admitted reluctantly. He wasn't sure why he disliked reminding Snape of his lack of knowledge, but thought maybe it was because he admired the older man's proficiency and intelligence.

Hearing the self-reproach in Potter's voice, Severus snapped impatiently, "Potter, it is a difficult skill to learn. That you are capable at all speaks of your potential." Not giving the brat a chance to comment, he said quickly, "If you will search that half of the room," he pointed to the section containing the rusting stove, "I will see to the remainder."

Agreeing, Harry turned to his assigned section and quartered the area, concentrating on sensing any stray trace of magic. As he worked, occasionally running across a charmed pot or tea cup, Harry watched Snape out of the corner of his eye.

Since they'd dealt with Hufflepuff's cup, Harry had been intensely aware of the other man. Prior to that he'd always noticed his intelligence and biting wit, but now his awareness was shifting to Snape's graceful, economical movements. The way he brushed his hair out of his face when it interfered with his vision, the billowing robes that occasionally flattened against Snape's body, highlighting a firm, muscular frame. Harry still didn't think Snape was that good looking, but there was something about the darkly elegant and dangerous aura the man projected that was intriguing.

For almost an hour, they had painstakingly combed through the scattered debris, when Harry sensed the latent power of what he hoped would be the Horcrux. "Severus, I think I found it," he called out, astonished he'd actually done it.

Confident in Potter's assessment of what he'd found, Severus promptly abandoned his own search to assist with disarming any potential traps. He joined Potter in the far corner. Stretching his own senses, Severus quickly verified the strong feel of latent magic and pinpointed its origin. Curious as to how precise Potter's discernment was, he asked, "Can you determine the origin?"

Fairly confident, Harry pointed to a warped floorboard. "From under that board."

Severus eyed him shrewdly. "I believe earlier you underestimated what you are capable of, Potter." Once again mentally cursing Potter's foul relatives, Severus said brusquely, "While overconfidence is dangerous, so, too, is self-effacement."

Harry simply nodded in agreement; he'd heard various refrains of the same sentiment from Snape and the Bar many times. He was trying to believe it. Occasionally he even succeeded.

Changing the subject before it descended into another lecture on his potential, Harry asked, "It seems too easy, think it's a setup?"

"Give me a moment," Severus said curtly, already searching for a pattern in the magic that would indicate a hostile spell lying dormant. "Ah, very clever," he murmured with reluctant admiration at the Dark Lord's ingenious trap.

Trying to find whatever Snape had sensed, Harry asked with frustration apparent in his voice, "What?"

Severus turned to Potter. The irritation the brat felt was clear on his face and in his stance. Smirking inwardly at the young man's impatience, Severus calmly instructed Potter on the method to discern the magical pattern.

"How do you know all this shite?" Harry demanded petulantly.

Rolling his eyes, Severus drawled, "For Merlin's sake, Potter, someone did the same for me that I just did for you." He sneered. "Did you think I was spawned knowing intricate magical skills?"

"Actually, I have a hard time picturing you as anything besides the sarcastic bastard standing in front of me," Harry said with an impertinent grin.

Glaring at the brat's insolence, Severus said acerbically, "Now that you have managed to detect the pattern, are you capable of utilizing your feeble intellect to grasp the intent of the spell?"

Letting the insult roll off his back, Harry concentrated once again on the feel of the magic. "All I can tell is that it will do physical harm," he said after a moment.

"Perhaps we'll make a wizard out of you yet, Potter," Severus drawled. He smirked at the outraged 'hey' from Potter. "You should memorize that pattern; it was a favorite of the Dark Lord and many of his followers."

Still glaring at Snape's insult, Harry asked, "But what does the curse do?"

"It will wither the flesh off your bones until you break the curse," Severus said harshly. "Once triggered, the damage from the curse is irreversible."

Eyes widening at the serious consequences, Harry demanded, "Tell me you know how to break the curse before that."

Rolling his eyes, Severus snapped, "Of course I know how to break it." He eyed Potter cautiously, unsure as to how the brat would take his next revelation. He was careful to word it ambiguously. "The method is… frowned upon by the likes of Dumbledore."

"Almost everything I've done in the last year is frowned on by Dumbledore," Harry said as he tried to figure out what Snape was hinting at. Deciding bluntness would serve him best, he simply asked, "What is the method? And why is it worrying you?"

Potter's usual lack of subtlety was annoying but useful on this occasion; Severus didn't know if he'd have been able to actually suggest it otherwise. "It requires an illegal dark ritual," he growled, then added softly, "I am reluctant to allow you to participate in it."

Harry tilted his head as he studied the other man. Snape was acting uncharacteristically vague. "Why?"

"Never mind," Severus snapped as he agitatedly pulled his hair back in a pony-tail and secured it with a clasp from his pocket. Determined to keep Potter as far away from the more risky aspects of the upcoming ritual as possible, Severus demanded, "Be prepared to do as I say."

Seeing he wouldn't get any more out of Snape now, Harry resolved to pry it out of him when they'd finished. "Fine, just tell me what to do."

Well aware Potter was annoyed at his avoidance of the issue, Severus pulled vials from his bag as he prepared for the ritual. He knew intimately how seductive the Dark Arts could be, and Severus had no intention of allowing Potter to fall victim to their lure as he'd done. His soul was already scarred; he wouldn't risk Harry's.

He sent Potter outside to transfigure a white swan. When Potter came back with a flawless bird, Severus succinctly explained what the brat would need to know. "The ritual is based on Alchemy. There will be a fourteen point star drawn with mercury, the Horcrux the center point," he said curtly. "I will sacrifice the swan; it is the alchemical symbol of purity. Then add the final ingredient, oil of vitriol."

Harry watched Snape skillfully prepare for the ritual. He was curious about it; he'd never seen a dark ritual, only read about them. Harry tightened his grip on the flapping bird. "What do you need me to do?"

"Give me the bird," Severus demanded. Potter handed over the creature with alacrity. Severus rolled his eyes and pointedly silenced and immobilized the bird. "Now you will stand over there," Severus decreed, pointing to the corner farthest from where they were.

"And if any unforeseen complications arise, you will immediately Apparate to Luc and bring him here," Severus stated unrelentingly. He would do everything in his power to shield Potter from any possible consequences of the ritual.

Both of Harry's brows rose incredulously. "That's it?" he asked disbelievingly. There was more going on here than Harry could understand. He was aware the rite Snape was using was dark, and it didn't bother him, Snape wouldn't use if it wasn't necessary. But there was something the older man was keeping from him.

"Just do as you're told for once in your life," Severus growled as he outlined the star in mercury.

Seeing that Snape was intent on what he was doing and not wanting to risk an accident, Harry held his tongue and made his way to his assigned watching place. When Snape casually slit the swan's throat and insured the blood fell in the center of the star, Harry was surprised that he felt no different towards the older man. He'd always known Snape could be ruthless when the situation called for it, and seeing it first hand didn't change his opinion of the other man. While he could understand how some people would shy away from the darker side of Snape, Harry found it intensified his interest in the man.

He could sense the magic gathering, but didn't understand what it was doing; his knowledge of dark magic wasn't up to that. The rite was short and simple; when Snape added the oil of vitriol, there was a sharp crack when the floorboard split in half and it was over. Snape efficiently banished the mercury and disposed of the swan.

"Come here, Potter," Severus said tightly. The ritual had taken more out of him than he'd expected. He hadn't felt the soul wrenching effects of dark magic in years, and the dizziness caught him off guard. Wondering absently if the soul cleansing potion was responsible, he stumbled as Potter approached. Leaning against the wall for support, Severus was surprised to find his knees would no longer support him as he slid down to the floor.

Shaken, Harry ran to Snape's side. Dropping to his knees beside the man, Harry was alarmed to see Snape was paler than usual. The older man's breathing was heavy and he had his eyes closed, face screwed up in a pained expression. Harry placed a hand on a black clad shoulder. His hands were shaking when he asked, "What's wrong?"

Severus forced his eyes open and held Potter's panicky gaze. "Use the potion, take care of the Horcrux," he said breathlessly. Keeping his eyes open with sheer force of will, Severus read Potter's intention to ignore his instructions in the defiant green eyes. In something approaching his normal voice, he snapped, "I'll be fine. Do it now."

Reluctantly, Harry straightened and, after rummaging through Snape's bag, found the soul potion. Quickly removing the cracked floorboard, he coated the ring he'd revealed in the blue solution. As he chanted the incantation in Parseltongue, Harry didn't take his eyes off Snape. The instant the potion glowed, signifying it had done its work, Harry snatched up the ring and thrust it into his pocket.

His head spinning, Severus watched Potter with blurry eyes. He should have remembered taking the soul potion before he'd worked that ritual. He leaned his head against the wall, seeking something solid to stop the spinning. He felt weak as a pigmy puff, and detested the weakness. Severus was pleased that he'd had the foresight to forbid Potter from participating. If the ritual drained him, the consequences to someone as pure as the brat would have been far more severe.

Harry glanced around the cabin, making sure they weren't leaving anything behind as he scooped up Snape's bag and slung it across his shoulder. He went back to Snape's side and knelt down. "Can you stand if I help you?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Severus said as he struggled to get up. He felt a strong hand behind his elbow as Potter pulled him up. He was surprised when Potter slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close. "The Horcrux…" he started.

"I've got it," Harry said. "Now just hold on to me." Harry held Snape tightly and Apparated away.

They reappeared in Severus bedroom. Realizing where he was, Severus said weakly, "I didn't think you could Apparate into Sinister Place."

"Not supposed to be able to," Harry admitted softly. "I broke through the wards, Gabriel's gonna be pissed." Dropping the bag on the floor, Harry gently helped Snape onto the bed. He went to undo the man's robes and had his hands slapped away. "Stop it," Harry growled. "I think you're going into shock."

Ignoring the weak protests from Snape, Harry quickly removed the outer robes and then the man's shoes. He eased Snape back on the pillows before straightening and calling, "Dobby."

"Not that creature, Potter," Severus groaned.

Dobby popped into the room, and Harry quickly instructed him to find Luc or Devlin and bring them back immediately. Sure help was on the way, Harry grabbed a restorative draught from Snape's bag. Easing onto the side of the bed, taking care not to disturb Snape too much, Harry helped the other man drink the potion.

He'd done everything he could think of; feeling helpless and worried, Harry shifted them both until Snape's head rested on his lap. Stroking the inky hair, he muttered, "Stubborn git, should have let me help."

"Didn't want the Dark Arts to damage you, Harry," Severus said softly. He was so tired, even with the restorative. Severus couldn't remember the last time someone had comforted him when he was weak. Indeed, he couldn't think of anyone else he'd let do it. Quite sure he would be mortified for reveling in the attention tomorrow, Severus let go and simply enjoyed it while it lasted.

Chuckling, Harry looked down at Snape and smiled. "Do you even know what you're saying?" he asked.

Severus turned his head back and forth to encourage Potter to keep up the petting. "Hmmm, does it matter?" he replied sleepily.

Harry hurried to resume stroking Snape's hair; all the rubbing on his lap was bringing to mind other things he had no business thinking, much less right now. "So all it takes to get you to call me Harry is a Dark Arts ritual," Harry said with a wry grin.

Several minutes later there was a perfunctory knock on the door as Devlin and Luc hurried in. Devlin looked over the scene and drawled, "Harry, was there something you wanted to tell us?"

"Shut it, arse. Severus did some dark rite and ended up like this, I don't know what else to do," he hurriedly explained. He vowed at that moment to study first aid, Muggle and magical; he never wanted to feel this helpless again.

For once Luc abandoned his usual taunting and got straight to the point. "What ritual did he do?" he demanded as he leaned over Snape and lifted an eyelid.

Harry quickly detailed what he knew about the ritual and why they had done it. Luc asked a few questions before stepping back and saying, "He'll be fine. He simply drained his magic; he'll be back to normal after a good night's rest."

Snape had fallen asleep during the conversation. Harry eased himself out from under him and got to his feet. After checking that someone would remain with the sleeping man, Harry went to his room.

He barely got the door closed behind him when the events of the afternoon caught up with him, forcing him to lean against the door. Giving in to his jumble of emotions, he slid to the floor. Pulling his knees up, he rested his head on them. Stupid git, Harry grumbled to himself, relieved that Snape would be okay. He really should have let me help, but that's Snape for you. He's going to be disgusted with himself tomorrow. Why do I care so much?

August 1998

Severus walked through the strangely deserted halls of Sinister Place the last week before term began. Eventually tracking down the inhabitants, he was startled to discover Potter, armed with only Slytherin's daggers, furiously attacking a sword wielding Gabriel. The others stood along the training room wall, just inside the door.

Swiftly making his way to Luc's side, Severus demanded sardonically, "Is it a new policy of the Bar to allow its members to skewer each other?"

Rolling his eyes, Luc drawled, "Harry is in a snit."

"What would enrage Potter sufficiently to precipitate that?" Severus asked, pointing to the two men engaged in a fierce duel. He watched in amazement. Gabriel was a master swordsman, widely acknowledged as one of the best in the world, even at his young age. Yet Potter faced him with two daggers and was gaining the upper hand against the longer blade.

Devlin joined the conversation with a growled, "Before giving in to Harry's demand for a duel, Gabriel managed to pry this out of the brat." He handed Severus an advance copy of the next day's Prophet.

At Severus' questioning look, Vane explained bitterly, "That Skeeter creature solicitously sent Harry an advance copy."

Quickly reading the luridly titled article, Severus understood the fierce expressions of the Bar, and Potter's anger. The loathsome reporter had tracked down the Dursleys for an interview. Potter's relations could apparently overcome their distaste of wizards at the promise of money.

The article was vicious in its condemnation of Potter. The Dursleys complained of being left destitute after years of graciously caring for the 'freak'. When informed of Potter's dual inheritance, they told of how they lived in fear that the brat would use his magic to harm them. Reading between the lines, Severus saw the desire for compensation from the Muggles, and revenge on Skeeter's part. Between Vane, Devlin and himself, Skeeter had no access to Potter. The brat gave one interview every six months to a reputable reporter vetted by Luc. Needless to say, that woman had never been approved.

Finished with the paper and his ruminations, Severus turned back to watch the duel. Disbelieving, he watched as Potter reversed the dagger in his right hand, aligning the blade along his forearm and stopped the downward swing of Gabriel's sword. Muscles straining, Potter forced the sword down and aside. Stepping in close, Potter whipped the other dagger up and pressed it flat against Gabriel's throat, ending the duel.

Breathing hard, Harry waited for Gabriel to drop the sword, thus signaling his defeat. When he heard the sword hit the floor, Harry nodded stiffly as he quickly slid his daggers into their sheathes. Still angry and desperate for some type of escape, Harry strode from the room, ignoring the calls for his attention. "I'm taking the bike out," he called out, and was gone.

Dropping to the floor in an inelegant heap, Gabriel took a moment to catch his breath. "Well, it's always nice to see the student outdo the master."

"Whatever possessed you to fight the brat so unequally?" snapped Severus.

Chuckling dryly, Gabriel said, "I haven't been able to beat Harry with daggers for six months."

"So what have the two of you been doing in here for the last six months? Or do I want to know?" drawled Devlin.

Accepting Vane's helping hand, Gabriel surged to his feet. Wiping down his sword with a towel, he said, "Just what you saw. I've been teaching him to beat a sword with those daggers of his."

"Besides, Harry and I haven't been lovers for ages," Gabriel added casually as he placed his sword in the cabinet. "We make better friends than lovers. Plus, he's looking for his 'dark companion.'"

Busy suppressing his inappropriate urge to cackle gleefully at Gabriel's admission, Severus was relieved when Vane grumbled, "Some of us don't want to know about Harry's love life, Gabriel."

"Speak for yourself," Luc said leeringly.

Shooting Luc a warning glare, Devlin demanded, "What are we going to do about this disgusting article?"

A diabolical grin slowly spread across Severus' face. "I have a suggestion," he drawled malevolently.

Devlin eyed him shrewdly. "What?"

Severus quickly outlined his plan to the Bar; after a moment of astonished silence, Devlin's smile soon matched Severus'.

"Right, so let's do it," Devlin commanded.

It had been normal weekday evening on Privet Drive, until three wizards Apparated into a deserted alley. Devlin, Gabriel and Severus strode briskly down the sidewalk, their foreboding demeanor causing children and adults alike to eye them warily. They were dressed in Muggle clothes; they had no intention of bringing the Ministry down on their heads. Reaching number four, Severus knocked on the door imperiously.

Vernon Dursley swung the door open a moment later. Severus kept his expression impassive. "Ah, Mr. Dursley, I was hoping to find you at home."

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" Vernon asked politely, his eyes resting briefly on the expensive rings each man wore.

Stepping forward, Devlin said affably, "Might we come in? It is a sensitive topic, unless, of course, you would like your neighbors to hear."

"Please, come inside then," Vernon said, opening the door to allow them to pass. Closing the door behind them, he called, "Petunia, we have guests. Bring some tea."

Dursley led the three into the living room, where they settled on the couch. Severus sneered inwardly at the unbelievable Muggleness of the house. Nearly gagging at the pictures of a grossly fat Muggle boy, Severus turned to Dursley. Making sure to keep his tone bland, he asked, "I see you have a son. Is he about?"

Chest swelling with what Severus assumed was pride, Dursley said, "My Dudley's upstairs. Would you care to meet him?"

"I'm certain that would be…interesting," Severus drawled diplomatically. Interesting as watching Filch having sex with his cat, he mused inwardly.

He ignored the pointed glare Devlin shot him as Dursley went to retrieve his offspring. A moment later, alarmed at the thunderous clamor on the stairs, Severus barely refrained from shuddering in disgust when Vernon Dursley proudly presented his son. The boy was nearly as wide as he was tall. Remembering how skinny Potter had been before leaving this place, Severus gave Devlin an imploring look. He knew he would be unable to keep up the charade.

Devlin stepped in smoothly and spoke graciously, "What a strapping young man. Tell me, how old is he?"

The group made polite small talk until Petunia Dursley came in with a tea tray. When everyone was served and sipping their tea, Severus stated their purpose. "No doubt you wish to know why three strangers have invaded your home." At the interested looks from the Dursleys, he continued evenly, "We are here about your well-deserved compensation regarding Harry Potter."

Severus watched with sardonic amusement as Vernon Dursley's distaste for magic warred with his greed. After a tense moment the greed won out, and Dursley ground out, "How much?"

Setting his cup on the coffee table, Severus drawled coldly, "You misunderstood me." Letting his contempt for the Dursleys show at last, he spat, "You will be compensating Harry."

Vernon surged to his feet. Face nearly purple with rage, he shouted, "Freaks! That boy deserves nothing from me!"

Gabriel stood; slowly removing his long coat and displaying the knives it had hidden, he eyed Vernon coldly. "Sit down," he said harshly.

Gasping, Petunia shrank back in her chair. "What do you want from us?" she asked in a wavering voice.

Nobody spoke as Gabriel stared down Vernon; after a moment Vernon gave in. With a vein throbbing on his forehead, he dropped heavily back into his chair. Gabriel crossed his arms across his chest and remained standing.

"I'd like to see you turned into slugs and diced for potion ingredients," Severus spat when the big oaf sat down. "Barring that, I'd have you prostrate before Potter, begging his forgiveness for your foul treatment of him."

Smirking, Devlin drawled maliciously, "I voted for drawn and quartered, then fed to the dragons. But I was told that would give the beasts indigestion."

Gabriel laughed, causing the Muggles to flinch. "That's a good idea, but I like the one about sending them to the Siberian werewolf colony in their knickers."

"That… old man said you…people can't…hurt us," Vernon stuttered nervously.

Severus chuckled dryly. "We can't physically harm you unless we wish to land in Azkaban," he admitted slyly. Seeing the confidence return to Dursley, he added coldly, "So this will have to do."

Ejecting his wand from its holster, Severus stood and intoned, "Mesedi Veridicitia."

Petunia screamed. Squealing, Dudley stood and grabbed his bottom. Vernon turned purple again as he stood and advanced threateningly on Severus. Glaring fiercely, Severus snarled viciously, "If you attack me, I can legally defend myself."

He tutted in disgust when Vernon backed down with a frightened expression; he'd hoped the hothead wouldn't listen. "Pity. I quite looked forward to turning you into the swine you are," he said derisively. He contemptuously slipped his wand back in its holster.

Dudley attracted Devlin's attention when he tripped over a footstool while turning in circles trying to see his behind. Devlin sneered. "Boy, what are you doing?"

"Seeing if there's a tail," Dudley said distractedly. He stopped spinning and slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide with horror.

"What did you do to my Dudders?" Petunia demanded shrilly.

Severus sat down regally. "It's really a very simple spell. I'll demonstrate its effects." Smiling wickedly, he asked, "Madame, perhaps you'd grace us with your opinion of your husband?"

"He's a decent provider, but needs to lose a hundred pounds and is dreadfully unimaginative in bed," she spouted mindlessly. Gasping, Petunia stuffed her fist in her mouth and looked to Vernon apprehensively.

Vernon sputtered wildly, his complexion changing from purple to white. Severus threw back his head and laughed. When he'd calmed, he drawled, "While that is very enlightening, we have a couple of things to clear up before we depart."

Turning to a widely smiling Devlin, Severus raised a brow in invitation. Devlin didn't bother to keep the malicious glee out of his voice as he asked, "What were your motives in giving that interview to Skeeter?"

"To get money out of the little freak," Vernon spat viciously.

"Were you financially drained by supporting Harry?" was the next question from Devlin.

Glaring, but unable to keep silent, Vernon growled, "No, the old man paid us for his care."

Devlin took care to word his next question carefully. He was aware that Harry had made vague, oblique threats to the Dursleys. "At any time, did Harry make any unprovoked threats?"

"No," Vernon admitted grudgingly.

Severus leaned forward and fixed Dursley with an intense stare. He was satisfied when the fat oaf shrank back in his seat. "Did you, in fact, lock Potter in cupboard until he was eleven, deny him food, and force him to act as your servant?" Severus demanded forcefully.

Vernon glared and tried to resist; in the end he ground out, "Yes."

Finding his wand in his hand without realizing he'd drawn it, Severus glared at Dursley. He'd known the truth, but to face the people responsible for Potter's dismal childhood and see no remorse left him furious. Devlin gave him a look that said they'd follow his lead. Regretfully, Severus put away his wand. Even with Potter furious at the vermin, no doubt the brat would end up feeling guilty if Severus cursed the Muggles and was sent to Azkaban.

Standing abruptly, Severus motioned for Devlin and Gabriel to follow him; he would not test his restraint by staying any longer. Vernon Dursley intercepted them at the door and demanded, "What did you do to us, freak?"

"It's a mild truth spell, you incompetent arse," Severus said spitefully. Stepping around Dursley, he pulled open the door and strode out.

Devlin smiled cruelly. "For the next month, you and your witless family will be compelled to tell the truth when asked a direct question." He and Gabriel followed Severus into the yard. The three men strolled casually back to the alley. Once there, Devlin turned to Gabriel. "Did you get all of that?" he asked.

"Yeah, the whole thing," Gabriel said with a delighted laugh. "I'll edit out the threats before I send it to a couple of decent reporters."

Pleased with the evening's work, the three satisfied wizards Apparated away.

October 1998

Late on a Friday evening in the first week of October, Harry was leaning against a stack of pillows on his bed at the Potter house. He flipped a page of the book on animagus transformation he was reviewing. Devlin had been trying to help him for months now, but Harry kept missing something. He hoped by rereading the theory he would finally get it. Saoirse, the snake Snape had given him, was coiled contentedly on his stomach. Harry absently stroked her scales as he read.

He stretched out his leg and groaned softly. Since he'd outdone Gabriel with daggers, the other man seemed to have made it his mission in life to bring Harry to the same level with a sword. He'd spent most of the day sparring with Gabriel and was paying for it in aches and pains now. From her perch near the open window, Hedwig hooted softly in sympathy.

He'd been reading for about an hour when a strange dark grey owl flew through the window and circled the bed. Hissing in alarm, Saoirse slithered up Harry's chest to twine around his neck. Harry set aside his book and hissed for the snake to calm down. He held out his arm and the owl landed lightly. After untying the parchment, Harry offered the owl a treat from his bedside table. The grey owl took the treat delicately from Harry's hand and flew back out the window as silently as it had arrived.

Harry unrolled the scroll and was surprised to find it was in a language he didn't recognize. Curious about who was writing to him in an unknown language, Harry cast a general translation charm on the parchment. "Oh, that helped," he muttered disgustedly when even with the charm he could only read two words.

The two words he could make out, 'fianna' and 'admittance', stirred him into action. He didn't bother with a shirt as he tucked the scroll in his pocket. Coaxing Saoirse down to his wrist, Harry threw the first robe he saw on over his drawstring trousers, leaving the robe open. He headed downstairs, jumping the last few steps in his impatience. When Harry reached the living room, he threw a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace, called out, "Severus Snape's quarters," and stepped into the green flames.

Stepping gracefully out of the fire, Harry found the sitting room empty. Not wanting to startle Snape, he called, "Severus?" There was no answer. Harry quickly checked Snape's lab and found it empty as well. He turned around and re-entered the sitting room. Deciding the letter was too important to wait, Harry knocked softly on Snape's bedroom door. He was surprised when it opened beneath his hand. Pushing open the door, Harry stuck his head inside cautiously. When he wasn't summarily cursed, he eased the door further and entered the room.

Snape wasn't there either, but Harry couldn't resist a quick glance around the room. He'd never been in Snape's bedroom at Hogwarts before. The color scheme from the sitting room carried over here as well. The four-poster bed had black curtains, with a black duvet cover; the blood red sheets were a surprise. Harry thought this room fit Snape's personality as well as the rest of the man's rooms did - austere with an unexpected splash of hidden passion.

While he gave into his curiosity about Snape, Harry heard the bathroom door behind him open. He whirled around and his jaw dropped in shock. Snape stood in the doorframe, naked, damp hair brushed back from his face. Harry couldn't resist; he ran appraising eyes from the top of Snape's head down his surprisingly defined chest and still further, stopping at the man's long toes. Dragging his eyes slowly back up the pale, well-defined thighs, Harry stared in fascination at Snape's cock. The only thought running through Harry's mind was, Damn, the man's long everywhere.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the long, uncut cock that jutted out from the black curls between Snape's legs. Harry knew he should say something, not stand there staring like an idiot, but he couldn't force words past the sudden swell of desire that clogged his throat and filled his prick.

Severus wasn't ashamed of his body, so he simply stood and let the brat look his fill. There was no disgust in Potter's face. Meanwhile, he took advantage Potter's distraction and made an appraisal of his own. Potter was bare-chested under his open robes. All the sparring with Gabriel had defined Potter's chest. It was not the bulky muscles of a troll-wrestler, but the lean sleek physique of a swordsman. The thin cotton trousers did nothing to hide Potter's impressive erection.

When several moments passed and Potter still didn't speak, Severus asked sarcastically, "Do I meet your approval?"

"Yes," Harry replied absently. He realized what he'd said and blushed. Harry was mortified; he was eighteen years old, had been with men and women both, yet he still blushed like a virgin. And he was still staring at Snape's cock. "I'll…just go…sitting room…now," he stammered.

Smirking wickedly at Potter's stuttering, Severus waited for the brat to leave. Potter didn't move, nor did he lift his eyes. His cock swelling beneath Potter's intense regard, Severus tensed and mentally repeated, Must not throw the brat on the bed and take him. "Potter!" he barked sharply, hoping to stop the brat's incessant staring before Severus did something he'd regret.

Harry's eyes snapped to Snape's face. There was a gleam in the black eyes he couldn't interpret. Harry flushed again and mumbled, "I'll just go wank in…I mean wait... in the other room." He fled.

Sighing heavily, Severus walked to his dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. Dressing quickly, Severus resolved to put the incident behind him. While he realized Potter was indeed attracted to him physically, it was most likely due to the hormones of an eighteen-year-old. Severus would never again settle for merely a physical relationship, especially not one with Potter.

He had no doubt he could seduce the brat. The interest was undoubtedly there, but such a venture would cost Severus his heart. He already felt far more for Potter than he was comfortable with; he had no expectations that his affections would be returned. Besides, he thought bitterly, Potter deserves much more than a man such as me.

Harry closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment to regain his equilibrium. Quickly thinking disgusting thoughts, Hagrid and Flitwick together, he sighed in relief as his erection died a swift death. He stood shakily and went to Snape's desk. Rummaging through the drawer, he located the pack of cigarettes he'd known would be there. Taking them to the couch, he dropped heavily onto it and lit a fag with his wand.

Taking a deep drag, hoping to calm his fiercely beating heart, Harry hung his head in humiliation. I did not stand there staring at Snape's cock. Snape, for Merlin's sake. Okay, so he's a bloody sexy beast without his robes, but he'll flay me alive for staring like that. I'll never live this down, he thought morosely.

Hearing the bedroom door open, Harry nervously looked up. Snape gave him that unfathomable look again; breaking eye contact, Harry dropped his head and took another drag.

Seeing how uncomfortable Potter was, Severus softly offered, "Tea?" As he'd hoped, the tension in Potter's body eased as it became apparent that Severus would not mention what had occurred.

"That would be brilliant," Harry said. He was relieved Snape was dismissing the whole bedroom thing. Harry wasn't sure how much more embarrassment he could endure tonight. Saoirse chose that moment to poke her head out of his sleeve. In his confusion Harry had forgotten he'd brought her with him. Happy to have something to distract him for a moment, Harry hissed to her softly, telling her where they were and why.

Hearing the hissing coming from the other room, Severus was glad he had his back to Potter. He reached down and adjusted the erection that had sprung to life at the first hint of Parseltongue. He didn't know why the snake language from Potter's mouth aroused him. When the Dark Lord spoke it Severus had felt only dread, even when Potter spoke it in his second year it didn't cause such a reaction. But for the last couple of years, hearing Potter speak the sibilant language caused his cock to harden.

Ruthlessly suppressing his reaction, Severus hurriedly threw together a tea tray. He carried it to the sitting room, trying to ignore the hissing. After setting the tray on the table, Severus prepared Potter's tea the way he'd seen the brat drink it − sweet and milky, − then his own. Passing the cup to Potter, Severus was careful to ensure their hands didn't brush.

Taking the cup from Snape, Harry sipped his tea and relaxed even more. Sitting in companionable silence in Snape's sitting room was familiar and comfortable. After several minutes Harry put down his cup and pulled the crumpled parchment from his pocket. He smoothed out the worst of the wrinkles and handed it to Snape. "That came this evening; I tried a general translation charm, but still can't read it."

"You were unable to determine the language?" Severus asked as he took the letter. Potter shook his head. He looked over the unusual symbols, mentally comparing them to the many languages he knew. After several moments he recognized it. "Ah, I have not seen the old Irish Gaelic written in years," he murmured.

"So you can read it, right?" Harry asked impatiently. He set a restless Saoirse on the floor, never taking his eyes off Snape.

"No," Severus admitted, "but, knowing the language, I can look up the translation charm." Suiting words to deed, Severus stood and walked to his bookshelves.

Finding the volume he was looking for, he took it down and riffled through the pages. Quickly locating the charm he sought, Severus cast it on the parchment and watched as the letters magically rearranged themselves into English. Stifling the urge to read the intriguing letter, Severus made his way to Potter's side and handed the letter over to its intended recipient.

Harry took the letter and looked it over. His eyes grew wider the longer he read. After reading through it twice, he thrust it unceremoniously to Snape. When the other man took the letter, Harry quickly lit another cigarette and leaned back on the couch with a resigned sigh.

Still intrigued by who would write to Potter in an archaic language, Severus read:

Harry Potter,

Congratulations on translating this missive. To do so shows your resourcefulness, and the quality of your mentors. There is no shame in asking for assistance when you find a task is out of your reach. No doubt you want to know who I am and why I'd give you such advice. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Ronan Brody, Captain of the Fianna. The Council of Warriors has given me leave to make you an offer.

Due to your excellent advisors I will assume you are aware of what the Fianna are. You came to our attention when you survived the evil one's curse; we have kept track of you since. In light of your obvious connection to Albus Dumbledore, it was decided that we would not approach you as long as you remained under his influence. However, circumstances have changed; you distanced yourself from Dumbledore, and allied yourself with the Bar Sinister, a group the Fianna respect.

Dumbledore has never revealed the reason behind our withdrawal from the wizarding world even though it was largely due to his manipulations. After the war with Grindelwald, Dumbledore failed to keep his promises of public support of our goals; he had used those promises to gain the assistance of the Fianna. That, along with his general disrespect of our advice and methods, caused us to withdraw before he could condemn us, as seemed likely.

Now that you understand why we have waited to approach you, allow me to make my offer. The Fianna are offering admittance to Harry Potter on the following conditions:

That he not inform Dumbledore through word or deed of this offer until he has completed his training.

That he swear to keep secret our location and details of the training.

That he accept only if he is prepared to train wholeheartedly.

If you accept our conditions, the Fianna are prepared to offer you much, Harry Potter. We will train you to be one of the fiercest warriors in the land. Along with combat skills, you will learn strategy that can be applied in battle or politics. Should you complete your training and prove worthy, the Fianna will stand with you for the rest of your life in any situation.

If you accept this offer, be ready on the 14th of this month and a Fiannan warrior will await you at the apothecary in Shannon until noon. I am quite sure your Master Snape will know the location.

Think carefully, Harry Potter. While the Fianna can hone you to razor sharpness, only you can decide if that is your desire. It is our wish that you join us, Lightning child.

Respectfully,

Ronan Brody

While Snape read the letter, Harry was lost in thought. Honed to razor sharpness, Lightning child… Both the bloody premonition and the legend. Fate is pushing me to be a warrior, it seems. Guess I can't put off this decision any longer, he mused. What do I want?

He pondered that question for several moments; he'd never seriously considered what he wanted out of life. I want peace; I want a world where all the innocents can freely walk the street. A world without the insane pureblood prejudice, one where Remus and others like him are treated as people and not creatures, he realized. Okay, what else? What do I want for myself? A partner that sees me, he decided, not whatever shite the public believe, but who I really am. I want someone to love unconditionally, and who loves me the same way.

So lost in his new realizations, Harry didn't notice that Snape had finished the letter. The older man attracted his attention by tugging a lock of hair that had fallen across Harry's face. Harry looked up. "Sorry, was thinking."

Severus nodded absently; he could see how the letter would provoke such an exercise. He knew that Potter would end up accepting the offer, and, frankly, it was in his best interest. That didn't stop the painful tightening of his chest at the knowledge that Potter would be gone for an undetermined amount of time.

Pushing away his own feelings on the matter, Severus set the parchment on the table and leaned back in his chair. He looked over Potter, noting the preoccupied expression, and offered, "Would you care to discuss the Fianna's offer?"

"No. I understood what they're offering and what they expect," Harry said quietly. Saoirse was winding herself around his leg; Harry plucked her up and set her in his lap, stroking her head absently.

Severus watched Potter pet his snake. After a moment, he asked, "Is there anything I can help you work through?" While he waited for a response, he poured them both more tea. Pushing the cup into Potter's hand, he sat back with his own.

Harry sipped his tea; lowering his teacup, he looked up at Snape. "I was thinking about what I want in life. I figured it out, and now I have to decide if what I'll have to do to get it is worth it."

Not wanting to force Potter to reveal what was obviously a very personal realization, Severus sipped his tea thoughtfully for a moment. "The only advice I can offer in that case," he began, "is that you need to decide if what you desire is worth any risk you'd face in obtaining it."

"Oh, I think it's worth the risk," Harry admitted softly. He'd do almost anything to have a lover and companion that would love him unconditionally. There had been so little love that he could remember in his life that even the dream of it was worth the risk.

Seeing the desire and determination run through Potter's eyes, Severus leaned forward and asked, "And will you be able to look yourself in the mirror and not see remorse or regret when all is said and done?"

Understanding what Snape was asking, Harry vowed then and there that, whatever it took, he'd have his dream, no matter the cost. Green eyes flashing with all the boldness of a Gryffindor and the cunning of a Slytherin, Harry simply said, "Yes, I can." He held Snape's eyes for several moments, until he saw acceptance of his decision and, strangely enough, a muted grief.

Well, Fate, Harry thought, I'll be the fucking warrior you want. But you will give me the companion that legend promised me. If I can defeat Voldemort, I won't hesitate to take on Fate itself.