AN: Thanks to the wonderful Raisinous Fiendling for the beta. And a huge hug to Evan James for the help when I had to start this chapter over. Here's a nice long chapter, sorry it's taken me so long.
Prepare for War
Weak sunlight filtered through the boarded up windows of the abandoned store-front. The constant low hum of conversation from the street could be heard despite the silencing charm in place. Harry paced the room restlessly. The Bar had arrived twenty minutes ago, and strategy had been decided upon, but the wait was driving Harry mad. They were waiting for Severus to arrive and waiting for the Death Eaters to make their move.
Devlin caught his eye and arched a brow in question. Smiling weakly, Harry waved him away. He appreciated the other man's concern, but right now he was too keyed up to hold a conversation. A disturbance in the air caused Harry to whirl around to face the corner.
Regardless of the turbulent nature of Portkeys, Severus landed on his feet gracefully. Frowning at his lover's ability to land upright, Harry strode towards the older man. Severus' head shot up at his approach and the chill in his black eyes stopped Harry in his tracks. Bowing his head in regret, Harry closed his eyes briefly. Severus had seen the article in the Prophet.
The hateful sneer he hadn't seen in three long years marred Severus' face, but Harry was spared Severus' anger for the moment. Ronan Brody, the captain of the Fianna, approached them both with a grim expression.
"The Death Eaters have just entered Knockturn Alley," he informed them. Ronan looked to Harry. "Are you sure then, lad, that you can draw them out?"
Reluctantly turning his attention to the matter at hand, Harry nodded. "I'm sure," he said swiftly. "When they see me in the middle of the street, they'll come after me."
"Bait," Severus drawled contemptuously. "How appropriate for such a reckless, tactless Gryffindor such as yourself, Potter."
The barbed comment hit its mark, just as Severus intended. Having known from the start that he'd upset his lover with his interview, Harry tried to let it roll off his back. He lifted his eyes to Severus'. "I'll do what's necessary."
So caught up in his silent battle with Severus, Harry didn't hear Devlin's approach. The supportive hand on his shoulder and the softly spoken, but firm, "I'll be watching his back," alerted him.
Glancing back at Devlin, Harry smiled gratefully. He had a feeling he'd need Devlin's support to get through the day. Ronan seemed to sense the undercurrent, but went ahead with the plan anyway. "Master Snape," Brody began respectfully, "we need another to watch young Harry's back, if you would be so willing?"
Despite his anger at Harry, Severus was not willing to let another guard the younger man. He nodded tersely. Together with Harry and Devlin, Severus watched the nearly thirty assembled Fiannan warriors disperse unobtrusively into the crowds in Diagon Alley. Now they had to wait for the Death Eaters to make an appearance.
Gratified that Harry seemed to have enough sense not to attempt to engage him in a conversation he wasn't prepared to have, Severus leaned against a dusty wall and brooded. As if his day wasn't stressful enough, shortly after Granger had handed him Harry's note that shameless little bint Ginny Weasley had followed Albus into the staff room. The chit was to be Poppy's assistant; in all his years at Hogwarts Poppy had never requested such help. Severus could see Dumbledore's fingerprints all over this newest manipulation. If the girl's presence wasn't bad enough, she had the brass to shove that disgusting rag of a newspaper under his nose.
'Obviously Harry's trying to clean up your reputation,' the odious female simpered at him. 'I have to wonder if it's to make you more socially acceptable, or if it's a goodbye present?'
As much as he would have liked to simply dismiss her words as jealously, Severus couldn't help but question if Weasley had a point. His past was something he'd never discussed with Harry. Distaste for reliving it, and a fear that Harry would be repulsed, had kept him silent. Had that been a mistake? The red haze of his anger had prevented him from reading more than the first paragraph of the article, but that had been enough. The reporter had retold of his early days with the Death Eaters and questioned his loyalty. And he'd apparently done it with Harry's blessing.
The soft whistle of a mockingbird distracted him from his thoughts. It was the signal they'd been waiting for. Severus watched with trepidation as Harry squared his shoulders and boldly walked to the middle of the street. Gazing up the street, Severus felt his heart miss a beat. At the junction where Knockturn Alley met Diagon Alley a host of Death Eaters marched out of the dark street. A swift count told Severus there had to be at least fifty or more. Keeping his eyes on Harry, Severus stepped out of the shadows and joined the fight.
Pandemonium; that was the first thought in Harry's head when the visitors and merchants in Diagon Alley noticed the Death Eaters in their midst. The second was 'how the hell do I distract the bastards before someone gets hurt?'
Since it was too late for subtlety, Harry took a deep breath, threw up a shield that would stop anything short of an Unforgivable and then conjured the biggest ball of Black fire he was capable of. The ball of flames was about the size of a large beach ball, and Harry threw it as hard as he could at the assembled Death Eaters.
The flames landed in the middle of the group and several of their robes caught fire. "Straightforward, but effective," Devlin commented with grim humor.
Harry shrugged, and braced for retaliation. He was not disappointed. The Death Eaters turned their attention to Harry. Ten curses came flying straight at him. Diving to the ground to avoid the spells, Harry rolled and sent a strong, broad-range stunner back at them. The Black flames weren't effective when fighting more than one opponent. His stunner, on the other hand, was. From his position on the ground, Harry guessed about five of the Death Eaters had fallen.
From behind the Death Eaters the Fiannan warriors joined the fight. The surprise attack allowed the Fianna to pick off several of the black robed figures before the Death Eaters spotted them. As the Fianna leapt from their hiding places, ten or fifteen of the enemies rushed Harry and his guardians.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed several of the goblins from Gringotts join the battle and fight alongside the Fianna. From the direction of the Leaky Cauldron behind him, Harry heard the sound of running. Not willing to take his eyes off the approaching Death Eaters, he shouted, "Devlin, behind us."
Harry pulled the dagger from his belt, and cast two curses in quick succession at the advancing men. Both were accurate and he had two less to fight. He could see spell-light and sparks coming from Severus' position, but didn't turn to look. Severus can hold his own, he reminded himself desperately.
A disgusted snort came from Devlin. "It's Dumbledore and that little club of his," the older man spat.
Knowing that the enemy wasn't approaching from behind, Harry dismissed the Order from his mind. They would help or not, but the Death Eaters were on them now, and Harry had no time to worry about Dumbledore.
The next fifteen minutes were a blur. He shouted spells, and slashed at men with his dagger. Blood, screams, and the smell of burning flesh and wood would be all he remembered from the battle proper.
In the end, Harry and the Fianna triumphed, capturing the majority of the Death Eaters involved in the attack. Harry estimated that only about ten managed to escape. The Ministry Aurors didn't arrive until it was all over, much to Harry's disgust. Fudge's incompetence could have cost innocent people their lives. It was only due to Harry's quick distraction and the skills of the Fianna that there were only minor injuries and no deaths.
The senior Auror at the scene attempted to force Harry and Ronan to go to the Ministry for a de-briefing, but they both refused. After a tense argument, the Auror relented. Harry had every intention of talking to the minister personally, later. First he had to help with the mop-up and then he needed to have a serious discussion with his lover.
Severus hadn't looked him in the eye since he'd first arrived. Harry watched as Severus approached Devlin. It appeared the older man was taking his leave. A moment later, Harry's supposition was proven true. Severus nodded in the direction of the other members of the Bar helping with the bound Death Eaters and then Apparated away.
Releasing a shaky breath, Harry ignored Dumbledore's shout for his attention. Damn it, Harry swore internally, I won't let Severus ignore me. I know he's angry, but surely he can see the benefits of that fucking article. Determined to make his lover see reason, Harry closed his eyes, pictured the gates of Hogwarts, and Apparated.
Shaking off the dizzying sensation of Apparition, Harry looked past the gates to the path leading to the school. He saw a swirl of black robes approaching the doors. Severus threw the heavy door open and stormed inside. Jogging quickly, Harry hurried up the path. He reached the door in time to see Severus turn down the corridor leading to the dungeons.
"Severus," he called.
The other man ignored him and continued on his way. "Shite," Harry muttered. A glance around showed there was no one in sight so Harry headed after his lover at a trot.
Halfway to their quarters, Harry caught up to the older man. He grabbed Severus' arm and pulled him to a stop. "I've been calling you," he complained.
Severus roughly jerked his arm free of Harry's grasp. "I realize that," he spat. "But I have no desire to have yet more of my personal life bandied about in public," he said in a low hiss.
Turning on his heel, Severus continued on his way. "If you insist on burdening me with your meaningless twaddle, you may do so in private," he said in a louder voice.
Frowning, Harry followed. There hadn't been that much of Severus' personal life disclosed in the article. He'd been careful with the reporter; he'd only said things that were known by the majority of the Order, such as Severus' spying, at great personal risk, his often unacknowledged contributions to the Potions community… things along those lines.
Harry sighed. He'd known Severus would be upset about the article, but he was beginning to think he'd underestimated how much his lover loathed the attention.
They reached their rooms and Severus slammed the door open, banging it against the stone walls. Harry winced. Closing the door gently, Harry followed Severus into the sitting room and dropped heavily into an armchair.
"Look, I know you don't like the publicity," Harry began. "But I don't get why you're all worked up."
Severus ignored him and turned straight to the door of his lab. "Hey, I asked you a question," Harry shouted indignantly.
Without slowing down, Severus spat, "And I have no intention of answering." The older man threw open the door and stepped inside. He stuck his head out the door, and said scathingly, "I will show you the same regard you showed me with that contumelious article. None."
Harry sat in stunned silence as the door was forcefully slammed shut.
An hour's worth of fresh air, sunshine and exercise had not helped Harry figure out why Severus was so angry. So he headed back into the castle. He absently nodded to the occasional greeting from a student. The dungeons seemed even colder today than they normally did, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if they took on their master's moods.
Reaching the plain wooden door to their rooms, Harry turned the knob. It didn't open; he frowned down at the metal. Harry tried again. It still wouldn't open. Confused, Harry pulled his wand and checked the wards.
His eyes closed with the painful results. Severus had removed him from the wards. Harry exhaled heavily, feeling as if he'd just taken a Bludger to the gut. He stared blankly at the door for a moment and then lowered his forehead to rest on the cool wood. "Why, Severus?" he asked in a whisper. "Why lock me out instead of talk to me? What did I do that was so wrong?"
Time lost all meaning as Harry stood outside Severus' quarters. The nearby laughter from two Slytherin boys walking down the hallway pulled him back to reality. Not paying attention to where he was going, Harry wandered the castle. At some point he heard Minerva call his name, but Harry ignored her as well as the calls from the students. An unknown time later he felt a hand grab his arm.
He slowly looked up to see who had detained him. "Hermione?"
"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Is everyone okay?"
Shaking his head and trying to force his mind into some semblance of coherence, Harry tried to smile reassuringly. "Everyone's fine," he said. Suddenly realizing he'd need a place to sleep that night, Harry hurriedly asked, "Can I sleep on your couch tonight?"
Hermione frowned. "You know you're always welcome, but…?"
Not really ready to discuss what was going on, Harry tried to placate her. "Severus and I argued," he admitted. "It's just for tonight."
As they walked to her rooms, Hermione kept up a soothing monologue on her experiences with the Potions professorship, allowing Harry to simply nod in response. Eventually they reached her rooms near the Gryffindor Tower. Hermione installed him on the couch and fussed with a tea tray before excusing herself to the bedroom for a moment.
Harry stared broodingly into the flames. Hermione is a good friend, he mused. But there's too much I can't explain to her. She doesn't know Severus well enough. Hell, she doesn't know me well enough, not anymore. He sighed sadly as he put his mug back on the table. He leaned back on the couch and wished for someone who would understand without him having to explain his complicated lover. If Severus is my lover anymore, he thought morosely.
He'd been brooding for several minutes when the fireplace flared green and Sebastian stepped out into Hermione's sitting room. Harry stared at him blankly. "Sebastian? What are you doing here?"
"Idiot child," Sebastian growled. "You look like shite," he added.
The bedroom door opened and Hermione timidly walked out. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "But it's obvious you need to talk to someone. I know you're not comfortable talking to me, so I called him," she said. The expression on her face showed her willingness to take any abuse Harry chose to heap on her.
Harry laughed bitterly. His wish had come true, but now Harry wasn't so sure that was a good thing. "I'm not mad at you, Hermione," he said resignedly.
Sebastian nudged Harry's feet off the couch. "Well, I'm mad at you," he said. "You're a brainless lump who doesn't have the sense to come home to lick your wounds."
"I'm fine," Harry protested.
Snorting, Sebastian leaned down. "You're a pitiful liar," he said, then reached down and grabbed Harry's earlobe. Harry yelped when the older man twisted it painfully, forcing Harry to his feet.
"You're coming home," Sebastian said with a finality Harry had never heard from the laid-back man.
Sebastian bullied Harry into the fireplace and sent him to Sinister Place. As Harry twisted in the flames, he heard Sebastian say to Hermione, "My thanks, Hermione; the Bar is in your debt."
Harry had barely stepped clear of the Floo when Sebastian came out after him. The older man immediately renewed his grip on Harry's ear and pulled him down the hall.
"That's my ear, you fucker," Harry snapped mutinously. He felt like a disobedient child being tugged along by his father. Plus, it hurt.
Tightening his grip, Sebastian laughed airily. "I know it's your ear, idiot."
Not wanting to pull away and hurt himself worse, Harry demanded, "Let me go, I can walk on my own."
"Yes, I noticed," Sebastian said dryly. "But this way I know you'll follow me. It doesn't hurt too badly, does it?" he asked in a falsely caring tone.
"Bastard, you know it hurts," Harry snarled.
Even with his head at an awkward angle, Harry could see Sebastian's shoulder shaking with his laughter. "Of course it hurts," Sebastian drawled. "It's one of the more efficient ways I've found of compelling obedience."
"Lazy sod, you mean easiest," Harry mumbled.
"That too," Sebastian agreed readily as he propelled Harry into the living room.
Sitting in the chair the older man had directed him to, Harry rubbed his painful to touch, red ear. He sat silently, plotting his revenge on Sebastian as the other man summoned a house-elf. Though he tried, Harry couldn't hear the quiet conversation. A moment later Sebastian dropped onto the couch opposite Harry and immediately relaxed into his habitual sprawl.
Sebastian stared at Harry with a mischievous smile quirking the corners of his lips.
"What did you do?" Harry asked warily. It was never a good thing when one of the Bar looked at you like that.
With a lazy shrug, Sebastian drawled, "I simply informed the others you needed to talk."
Harry whimpered. He couldn't be bothered to worry about shame. Sebastian he could handle. The older man would quickly tire of trying to force Harry to talk. But the others? He was doomed. They were as stubborn as Harry himself was; he wouldn't leave this room till they were satisfied. "Why?" Harry demanded with a plaintive moan.
Sebastian smiled smugly. "Why should I waste my energy trying to interrogate you, when Devlin and the others would be more than happy to do it for me?"
Harry considered running for it, but it was no use. The Bar would track him down, berate him for a coward, and then force him to talk anyway. Resigned to his fate, Harry stood with a heavy sigh. Though it was only a couple of hours after noon, Harry crossed to the liquor cabinet anyway. He needed a drink. Pouring a measure of whiskey in a tumbler, Harry tried to think on the plus side.
Talking to the Bar could be a positive. They had known Severus for years and probably knew him better than anyone besides Harry. Hopefully they could tell him what he'd done wrong. If nothing else, perhaps they could offer a strong, friendly shoulder for him to lean on.
A few minutes later Devlin and the rest of the Bar strode into the room. Devlin took one look at Harry by the liquor cabinet and barked, "Sit down, brat."
Devlin turned to Sebastian, and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Settling more comfortably on the sofa, Sebastian launched into his tale. "Hermione Granger Floo-called the house. As you louts were outside, planning world domination, or whatever it is you do out there..."
"Exercise," Gabriel interjected with a smile.
"Yes, yes, world domination, exercise... Both equally exhausting," Sebastian said with a roll of his eyes. "As I was saying, I answered her call. She informed me that Harry here was wandering the halls in a daze. She was concerned, but all she could get out of the brat was that he had a fight with Severus. I went, fetched the brat…"
"Nearly pulled my damn ear off in the process," Harry interrupted resentfully.
Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Sebastian ignored Harry's comment and continued, "And then called you lot."
All eyes on him, Harry shifted in his seat. After a moment Devlin sighed. "Harry, we're not trying to pry," he said softly.
"Not prying my arse," Harry muttered under his breath.
Devlin heard him and, gritting his teeth, continued, "But we are concerned. Please let us help you."
Frowning at Devlin, Harry stood and began to pace. "Help me? How the fuck are you going to help me?" He whirled to face the other man and demanded, "Can you go back and force that reporter to keep his word? Can you give me the time I needed to explain things to Severus?"
Devlin went to Harry and laid a strong hand on his shoulder. "No," he admitted gently. "But that doesn't mean we can't help. Harry, talk to us. Perhaps together we can find a solution." He pulled Harry into a tight hug. "I don't like to see you hurting."
For a long moment Harry simply absorbed the warmth and comfort Devlin offered. Eventually he raised his head from where it rested on Devlin's shoulder and let out a shaky breath. "Okay. I'll tell you what I know."
Devlin guided the young man to a chair and Harry sat down. With a snap of his fingers Devlin summoned a house-elf and within a minute everyone had a drink in their hand. Harry sipped at the scotch while he tried to order his thoughts. "You all saw the paper this morning?" he asked.
Everyone acknowledged having read the article in question. "Right, well, the reporter wasn't supposed to publish it until Friday," Harry began. "I made him promise, that way I could give Severus fair warning, and so all the upheaval would be on the weekend and not interfere with classes."
"Reporters can't be trusted," Luc drawled from his seat near the center of the room.
"I've realized that," Harry snarled. "But as he was one of the ones you had me speak to in the past, I thought he was better than the others."
"How much did you bribe him with?" Luc asked arrogantly.
Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "Bribe him?"
Luc gave him an incredulous look. "Really, Harry, you've been with us how long, and you're still that naive? You have to bribe the cretins to assure their promises."
Dropping his head into his hands, Harry moaned. All of this could have been prevented with the judicious application of a little gold. "Why didn't one of you tell me?" he asked plaintively.
"With your distaste for the media, it never occurred to us that you would seek them out," Vane said wryly.
"What was Severus' reaction?" Devlin asked. "When I saw him this morning, he was more uptight than I've seen him in years."
Feeling horribly foolish, Harry was grateful for Devlin's question. Though the question directed the conversation away from his mistake, he couldn't help laughing dryly. "That's one way to put it." He licked his suddenly dry lips. "He… umm… locked me out," Harry said hesitantly. "I… uh… I don't think…" Harry fumbled for the words, afraid if he said it aloud it would be true. He took a deep breath and blurted, "I don't think he wants me anymore."
The room was silent for a long moment, then an arrogant snort sounded from the doorway. "Quite right, can't see why anyone would want you, Potter," Draco Malfoy drawled scornfully. "Did you say he? I should have known you were a fag."
Harry leapt to his feet, wand in hand, and glared at Draco. Malfoy had taken him by surprise. He'd forgotten the other man was in the house. Slowly lowering his wand, Harry turned his back on Draco. The blonde wasn't worth the effort it would take to curse him.
Devlin turned his suddenly cold green eyes on Draco. "Well, well, Mister Malfoy, you finally deigned to grace us with your presence," he drawled. "What's the problem, the house-elf get tired of your incessant, juvenile demands?"
"Your house-elf is ill-trained," Draco whined. "It refuses to bring me the books I asked for. I came to retrieve them myself, when I overheard the queer's bellyaching."
Gabriel bristled. "Do you have a problem with homosexuality?" He fingered the dagger at his belt as he glared at the other man.
Luc waved Draco into a seat with a lazy hand. "Don't allow the idiot child to bait you, Gabriel," he said firmly. "With his background I'm quite sure Draco has been taught to use any means to achieve his goal." He looked at Draco and with a feral smile added, "Including bending over for anyone more powerful than himself."
Harry grinned at the indignant expression on Malfoy's face. The blonde couldn't seem to decide which insult to answer first, the idiot child comment, or the bending over one. Malfoy turned red with poorly suppressed anger when the Bar laughed at Luc's interpretation of Malfoy's upbringing.
"I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, I will not be requiring that service from you," Devlin said lazily. "I believe I'm secure enough in my power to resist your, ah… charms."
"You know nothing of real power," Malfoy shouted. "My father is powerful; you're just a bunch of bastards with delusions of greatness."
Rolling his eyes, Harry stepped into the fray. "Your all-powerful father came to us and begged for our protection."
"My father doesn't beg for anything," Malfoy spat. "Especially not from half-bloods and bastards. Weaklings, in other words."
Harry snorted. "Malfoy, you don't know shite. Your father regularly bows and grovels at the feet of a half-blood bastard."
Malfoy opened his mouth to give a no doubt scathing retort, when Devlin interrupted, "Didn't your sainted father inform you of the reason we tolerate your presence?"
Frowning, Draco shook his head. "Father only said it was in my best interest."
With a malicious smirk, Devlin filled the blonde in. "Voldemort has decided that due to his new body, he'd like the companionship of an attractive partner. That was to be your role."
Draco's nose elevated several inches, and he glared at group. "A companion to the Dark Lord? I see nothing threatening in that," he said contemptuously.
Despite the amusement baiting Malfoy brought him, Harry decided to give the blonde a break. "Companion as in a euphemism for fuck toy."
"Yeah, he wasn't looking for a chess partner, Malfoy," Gabriel added snidely. "Just someone he could bugger bloody."
Malfoy blanched, and Harry thought the other man would be sick for a moment, but the blonde eventually rallied. "Even if that's true, I don't see how you simpletons are supposed to protect me."
As the Bar began bickering with Malfoy, Harry stared morosely into his glass. He didn't think the blonde's problems were insignificant, but at the moment Harry had more pressing things on his mind. His shoulders slumped as Harry tried to find a way to make things right with Severus.
Lost in his increasingly bitter thoughts, Harry didn't notice Vane until the older man plucked the empty tumbler out of his hand and replaced it with a fresh one. Harry gave him a grateful smile and returned to his brooding. Vane stayed beside him, but didn't try to make him talk. Harry appreciated the silent support.
Tired of all the arguing, Harry stood to leave. Hopefully in the quiet of his room, he would come up with an idea. A piercing whistle stopped him at the doorway. "Harry, sit back down," Vane ordered firmly, ignoring the stares of the others.
Harry returned to his seat quickly. Vane didn't lose his temper often, but when he did it was best to do as he said.
Stepping in front of Harry, Vane glared at the other men in the room. "Perhaps, if you gits are finished listening to the insufferable drama queen whine about his lot in life, we could assist our cousin with his problems." He gestured towards Harry and growled, "You know, the reason we assembled in the first place."
There were several contrite looks, but Luc drawled, "Honestly, I don't see what we can do. Severus is an arse, and nothing will change that."
"Severus!" Draco shouted. He turned a disbelieving look on Harry. "You're dating Severus Snape?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Harry snapped. "Severus doesn't date."
Malfoy's brow creased in confusion. "Then what is he to you?"
"None of your business, Malfoy," Harry said warningly.
"Harry, he's living here. Eventually the git will learn the truth," Spencer said with a shrug.
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Harry muttered mutinously. He wasn't in the mood to be practical. He turned to Vane and said softly, "I appreciate the thought, but I don't want to talk with Malfoy here."
"Understandable," Vane said soothingly. More loudly, he added, "Young Mr. Malfoy did have a question about the Black magic if you'd be willing to answer it."
Harry turned to Malfoy and raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"My question," Draco drawled, "is how in Merlin's name is a half-blood able to use Black magic? I mean, the Blacks are one of the premier families, surely there are protections in place to keep the magic in pure blood lines."
Chuckling bitterly, Harry shook his head. "You mean, why me instead of you?"
"Maybe I do," Draco said nastily. "After all, my blood is pure, and as a Malfoy, I'm far more deserving."
Prissily arranging his robes, Malfoy smirked. "Although I'm beginning to believe the rumors of you having any of the Black magic is just propaganda to reassure the mewling public."
Even knowing Malfoy was baiting him, Harry couldn't resist. Conjuring a ball of Black flames, Harry held them out at arm's length and let Malfoy get a good look at them. Without warning, Harry tossed the fire into the blonde's lap. He laughed when Malfoy yelped and jumped out of his chair beating at his groin. The Black flames fell harmlessly to the floor.
"Sirius Black was my father, just as much as James Potter was," Harry began dryly. "With his blood I gained access to the Black magic. At his death, I became the head of the Black family. It's all that simple, Malfoy."
"You're not the only one with Black magic, Potter," Malfoy snarled. "Just because I don't have the Black flames doesn't make me less of a Black."
Harry tilted his head, and asked curiously, "Then why did Sirius say that Black magic had died out?"
Malfoy shrugged. "I won't pretend to know what went on in that mutt's mind. But I doubt any of the others would advertise their abilities. Mother said I was the first in several generations."
The mention of Malfoy's mother prompted Harry to ignore the mutt comment and offer sincerely, "I was sorry to hear about Narcissa."
"You're not fit to speak her name," Draco spat. "Your godmutt deserved to die, my mother didn't."
Fed up with Malfoy's ceaseless animosity, Harry glared frostily at him. "Fuck you, Malfoy," Harry growled. Dissolving the still burning, but harmless flames on the floor with a careless wave of his hand, Harry stood and walked out.
The low light in the candlelit room cast ominous shadows. The acidic smell and clinging steam from the softly simmering cauldron signaled it was time to add the dragon scales. Severus absently pushed a strand of lank hair out of his face and carefully dropped the required number of scales into the potion. The demanding, meticulous potion was keeping his mind and hands occupied. There was no room for thoughts of the brat.
A couple of hours later, Severus sighed heavily and bottled the completed potion. He tidied up the unused ingredients, and set aside the cauldron to be cleaned later. It was too early in the school year; Madam Pomfrey had no need of additional supplies. The full moon was still several weeks away, so it was too early to brew the Wolfsbane for Lupin.
Now that he'd finished the fire protection potion his sixth years would need for their next lesson, Severus had nothing to occupy his time. The brat had turned out to be a superior assistant so there weren't even any insipid essays to grade.
He walked into the sitting room and his eyes fell on Potter's Firebolt. As Severus glanced around the room, he couldn't help but notice the trainers haphazardly lying under the couch. The green robes carelessly tossed over the back of a dinning chair, the brat's whet stone holding down a stack of graded essays. Everywhere he looked was further proof of how far Harry had invaded his life.
With a snarl and a wave of his wand, all of Potter's belongings where swept up and deposited in the brat's trunk. I did the right thing, he ruthlessly reminded himself. Removing Harry…. no, Potter… from his wards was for the best.
Resolving not to think about the infuriating boy any more, Severus stalked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a large drink. Randomly selecting a book from the shelves, he took both to the chair beside the fire and attempted to loose himself in a book.
Thirty minutes later, he slammed the book shut. It did no good. Thoughts of Harry -Potter, he growled- wouldn't leave him. Desire for the brat warred with anger and outrage over that damned article. Why had Potter given that interview? Was it really a goodbye? Why did he let the Weasley bint get to him?
He stared morosely into the flames, looking for answers. A sudden whoosh sounded and Vane stepped out of the fireplace. "You look terrible," Vane said in lieu of a greeting.
Severus raised his eyes briefly, and then turned back to the fire. "Get out," he snapped.
Vane snorted, and walked to the cabinet across the room. "Thanks, I'd love a drink."
Severus ignored the other man as he poured a drink and sank into the chair across from him. No doubt by now the Bar knew something was wrong between him and Harry. Why it was Vane questioning him instead of Devlin, Severus couldn't bring himself to care.
Several minutes passed in silence, when Vane sighed. "Why?" he asked simply.
Severus didn't pretend to not understand. "I have no use for a callous, thoughtless Gryffindor," he spat.
Vane arched a disbelieving eyebrow and stared at Severus for a long moment. Severus refused to retract his statement.
Shaking his head sadly, Vane said softly, "Severus, you and I both know Harry is not callous. I can't argue the boy is occasionally thoughtless, but never cruelly so."
Severus snorted. "I see you don't deny his Gryffindor tendencies," he said dryly.
"Because they have no bearing on the situation, stop trying to distract me," Vane snapped impatiently. He continued more softly, "Talk to me, Severus. What about that article disturbed you to the point you refused him?"
With a sneer, Severus growled, "If you think I'm going to sit here and bare my heart to you, you're more delusional than that fool of a headmaster. The first paragraph of that libelous article was all I needed to see the truth. If you were not so dim, you wouldn't be here asking asinine questions."
Severus hastily climbed to his feet, and turned towards his lab. "I expect you to be gone when I return," he said coldly. "You may inform Potter his belongings will be forwarded."
His back to the other man, Severus missed Vane drawing his wand, and the body-bind hit him square in the back. Unable to move an inch, Severus silently fumed. He'd never expected Vane of all people to curse him in the back. The man didn't usually employ such under-handed tactics.
While he was inwardly berating Vane and himself for being so trusting, the other man levitated him to a chair. The instant the body-bind was removed, Severus reached for his wand, but he was too slow. Vane quickly bound him to the chair, and immediately followed with a silencing charm.
"You know, I see Devlin's enjoyment in this now," Vane drawled. "It's nice to know you'll have to listen for once."
Glaring at the man, Severus tried to reach the handle of his wand peeking out of his pocket. "Ah ah," Vane tutted. He summoned Severus' wand. "None of that now, Severus. You are going to sit there and listen to me."
Deliberately closing his eyes to show he was ignoring Vane, Severus tried to close his mind as well. But it proved impossible. The first paragraph of the interview rolled off Vane's tongue, and Severus again felt the pain and anger it sparked.
At the next section, Severus imperceptibly cocked his head to hear better. Potter had defended him? The brat had unearthed the transcripts from his trial after the Dark Lord's first fall and used them to prove Severus had spied on the Death Eaters.
As Vane relentlessly read on, Severus felt an unfamiliar sensation cuddling in his stomach. It took him a moment to recognize it. Shame. It filled him side by side with a rising guilt. It was Harry's words that shook him the most. Severus opened his eyes and stared at the paper in Vane's hands as if that would allow him insight. Harry had defended him, had praised his sacrifices. The brat had openly acknowledged the apprenticeship and credited Severus with much of his learning.
"My respect and admiration for Severus Snape knows no bounds," Vane read the last line.
Severus' eyes closed again, this time in confusion. His privacy was still violated, but he could no longer attribute any nefarious purpose to Harry's interview. Severus could read between the lines: Harry had only been trying to help.
The paper crinkled as Vane refolded it. He set the newspaper on the side table and released the silencing spell. "Do you still think him callous?" Vane asked gently.
"No," Severus said shakily. "Please remove the bonds," he asked quietly.
A flick of his wand and Vane dissolved the ropes. "Did he deserve to be locked out?" Vane continued relentlessly.
Severus shook his head. No, Harry hadn't deserved his anger. "Please leave," Severus demanded curtly. He needed to be alone. He had to find a way to secure Harry's forgiveness. If it could be secured. Severus feared he'd finally pushed Harry too far. Even a foolishly forbearing Gryffindor had limits. What if I've pushed him past them? Severus wondered sadly.
"Severus," Vane began.
Cutting off the man with a raised hand, Severus looked Vane in the eyes. "I do have a conscience," he admitted quietly. "Allow me time to follow it."
With a sad smile, Vane nodded. "I know you do, my friend." He rose from his chair and crossed to the fireplace, tossing a handful of Floo powder into the flames. "You know where to find me if you need to talk." With that he was gone.
A slim sliver of the moon peeked from behind the high, stringy clouds. Though the clouds covered many of the stars, Sirius was clearly visible. Lying on a wooden bench with one foot braced on the ground, Harry stared up at his godfather's namesake. Wishing on stars might be for children, but Harry needed reassurance. His heart ached.
Even the remembered pain of that locked door was enough to make him feel vaguely ill. He couldn't understand the extent of Severus' anger. Harry sighed heavily and absently wished he'd brought a bottle of alcohol with him. It would do nothing to dull his pain, but it might warm him. The cool night air of late September raised goose-bumps on his arms, but Harry couldn't be arsed to summon a coat.
The longer he lay there the bleaker his thoughts became. The chill seemed to seep into his skin and encase his heart. Severus will never forgive me, he thought bleakly. His spirits were at the lowest they'd been since Sirius died, and Harry wondered again what he had done that was so wrong.
The ringing of boot heels on the flagstone path caused Harry to look towards the house. A dark figure strode down the path, the light from the house throwing his face in shadow. A moment later, Harry recognized Devlin by his height and authoritative stride. The older man's cloak whipped behind him in the light breeze, and Harry could see a bundle of fabric hanging from Devlin's arm.
"Dimwitted child," Devlin said gently as he approached. When he reached the bench he shook out the bundle, revealing Harry's cloak. Devlin tossed the garment to Harry and snapped, "Put that on before you catch pneumonia."
Harry sat up and pulled the warmed cloak around him. Devlin took a seat on the bench beside him. The other man dug in his pocket and smiled triumphantly as he pulled a pack of wizard cigarettes out. He pulled a cigarette from the pack and then passed them to Harry. "This time you can smoke my fags," he said with a grin.
Shaking his head at Devlin's antics, Harry accepted the small box. Lighting one, he leaned back against the bench. He looked again to the stars, but the clouds had thickened and now covered the Dog Star. Harry sighed. "How do I make it right?"
As Devlin exhaled a cloud of smoke trailed into the sky. "I don't know that you can," Devlin said softly. "I think you'll have to wait for Severus to come to terms with himself."
"Why would that article make him so angry?" Harry asked plaintively.
"I don't know for certain, but I can make an educated guess."
Harry turned to Devlin. "Then do it," he demanded. "An educated guess is better than nothing. I don't understand why he locked me out. Why he wouldn't talk to me."
Dropping the cigarette on the ground, Harry crushed it out with his boot. He turned to Devlin; the other man wore a contemplative expression.
"You know what Severus' life has been like," Devlin began quietly. "It's my guess that he subconsciously expects betrayal."
Harry winced; he felt like Devlin had just punched him in the gut. Betrayal? That had never been his intention.
A warm hand rested on his shoulder. Harry met Devlin's eyes as the dark haired man hastened to say, "I don't mean that he sat around waiting for you to stab him in the back, Harry."
Nodding his understanding, Harry leaned into Devlin's warmth.
"All I'm saying is that Severus' life has been a series of letdowns from people he trusted." Devlin wrapped his arm around Harry and tugged him closer. "And when he read that article, I fear he saw it as another instance of duplicity."
Trying to understand a life that bleak, Harry sat in Devlin's embrace and wondered if Severus, who'd held a grudge for nearly twenty years against a dead man, would ever come to terms with this. "He's never going to get over this," Harry said with a sad laugh.
"Well, I don't know about that," Devlin said slyly.
When Devlin didn't expand on the comment, Harry elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't leave me hanging like that," he complained.
Ruffling Harry's hair, Devlin smiled smugly. "I sent Vane to… well, let's just say, help Severus see the truth."
Harry lifted a questioning brow. "In what way?"
"I suspect Severus didn't read the entire article. If he had, he wouldn't be this angry," Devlin explained.
"And?"
"Didn't you read it either?" Devlin demanded incredulously.
Harry shrugged. "Didn't have time. By the time Hermione pointed it out, the Fianna called."
Huffing indignantly, Devlin drawled, "The first bit of that article was unflattering to say the least. The reporter rehashed all the rumors and innuendo surrounding Severus and his defection from Voldemort."
"Fuck," Harry muttered. "If he thought I authorized that kind of shite, no wonder he was so pissed."
Harry hoped Vane would be able to convince Severus to read the rest. He really hoped the reporter had limited his malice to that first part. It had been really nice of Devlin to send Vane. "Wait a minute," Harry said suddenly. "Why would you send Vane? It's not like you to send others to do your dirty work."
A familiar wicked grin crept across Devlin's face. "I'd have gone myself," he said dryly. "But I didn't think you'd appreciate your lover bruised and bloody when he apologized to you."
Laughing, Harry laid his head on Devlin's shoulder. "Severus doesn't apologize," he said lightly. "He reassesses his opinion of the subject."
Several moments passed quietly, and Harry soaked up all the comfort he could from Devlin. The older man wasn't quite what he wanted, but he'd do in a pinch. At least until Severus came back. Harry held firm to Devlin's apparent belief that he would.
The silence was shattered when a voice from behind drawled snidely, "I see how things work around here." Luc walked around till he faced them both. "Really, Devlin, you're constantly scolding me for letting my hands linger, yet I find you cuddled up to the brat."
"Haven't you heard?" Devlin began seriously. "Harry is so irresistible that I've rethought my love of women. We'll be running away together to be married and have wild, impassioned man-sex."
Devlin sounded so sincere that even Harry, who knew the truth, nearly believed him. Luc's eyes went wide and flickered between the two of them disbelievingly. Harry couldn't help it; after the stress and upset of the evening Devlin's announcement struck him as terribly funny. He laughed so hard, he ended up bent double trying desperately to catch his breath.
"Very funny," Luc snarled.
Devlin chuckled as he pounded Harry's back. "I admit it was amusing," Devlin said. "But really, there's no call for hysterics."
Regaining his composure, Harry sat up, still giggling on occasion. "Thanks," he said to Devlin. "I really needed that."
"My pleasure," Devlin said with a smug grin thrown in Luc's direction. "It was entirely my pleasure, Harry."
It was after midnight, the clouds from earlier swept away with the wind. The dim glow cast by the quarter-moon was sufficient light for the dark eyes to immediately find the figure in the large bed. For a long time, Severus silently watched Harry sleep. Noiselessly removing his robes, he draped them over a chair and stripped his remaining clothes.
He let his eyes take in the slim body on the bed. The blankets were twisted and kicked to the foot of the bed, indicating Harry's restless sleep. Severus felt a pang in his chest. Harry always slept peacefully in his arms; it was only when Harry slept alone that nightmares plagued him. The soft moonlight leached the color from Harry's nude body. He looks like a marble statue of a god, Severus thought.
Shaking his head at his fanciful thoughts, Severus crossed the room and eased onto the bed beside Harry. Severus swept a loose lock of hair out of Harry's face and then leaned down and softly pressed his lips to Harry's. He kissed him gently, his tongue tracing the slightly parted lips and then dipping in to explore Harry's familiar mouth.
Harry responded sleepily, his tongue meeting Severus' lazily. Sliding his hand around Harry's waist, Severus lightly mapped the muscles in his lover's back. After a moment, he tightened his grip on Harry and rolled them both until Harry was stretched atop him.
The movement woke Harry. He looked down into Severus' eyes in confusion. It took him a moment to understand what was happening. His brow wrinkled. Why is Severus here? he wondered tiredly. "Severus?" he questioned.
"Shush," Severus whispered. "No words." Severus tangled his hand in his lover's hair and pulled Harry down for another kiss.
Giving into the kiss, Harry tried to clear the arousal from his head long enough to think. Severus had come to him. Harry took it as a sign that even if Severus didn't apologize, which was unlikely, he was at least willing to talk. And Harry had missed him. More than just the sex, Harry had missed the closeness. It had only been a day, but he wouldn't turn Severus away, not as long as there was a chance. And in all honesty, Severus' actions always spoke louder than his words.
Sensing Harry was thinking, Severus tried to pour into his kiss all he'd never be able to express in words. How sorry he was, how much he'd missed Harry. He poured his frighteningly desperate need for Harry's forgiveness into his caresses, and hoped Harry would accept it, and him.
The instant Severus felt Harry begin to participate in the kiss once again, he gave a relieved sigh. Running his hand up and down Harry's back languidly, Severus reveled in the sensation of having Harry pressed against him. He thrust his rapidly hardening cock against the solid length of his lover and hummed in satisfaction.
Harry slipped his hands into Severus' hair and returned the passionate kisses. It wasn't often Severus was underneath him, and though Harry always enjoyed their lovemaking, he appreciated the novel sensation. When Severus' legs fell open, Harry gave a shocked grunt as his cock slipped between his lover's arse cheeks. He broke this kiss and looked at Severus in confusion.
Severus simply gave him a small smile and wrapped those long, powerful legs around his waist and pulled him closer. Pulling his hand from his lover's hair, Harry trailed it down Severus' body and brought it to Severus' opening. As he'd suspected, Severus had prepared himself. Obviously Severus had planned this. Harry shook his head and smiled. Even Severus' apologies were Slytherin.
Reading the amusement in Harry's eyes, Severus shrugged. It wasn't often he cared to bottom, but the urge had struck him earlier as he'd thought about how to best make up with Harry. He wasn't doing it so much to appease Harry as he was to show his lover that he trusted him. And of course it was enjoyable on occasion to have Harry do all the work.
Harry slowly pressed into Severus, marveling at the heat and the tightness. As he sheathed himself carefully, he felt Severus relax and push against him. When he was fully buried, Harry rested his forehead against Severus' and exhaled heavily. He didn't do this often enough for it to have lost its thrill.
After a moment, Severus tightened his legs around Harry and thrust up against him. Harry took the cue and began to move. Keeping his thrusts slow and easy, Harry gazed into Severus' eyes, keeping them connected mind and body. He was surprised when Severus' Occlumency shields fell and he was suddenly drowning in Severus' thoughts.
Wanting Harry to understand what he couldn't say, what he might never be able to say, Severus dropped the barrier around his mind. He pushed the feelings he kept locked in his scarred, damaged heart to the forefront of his mind. He didn't know if what he felt for Harry was love, he had too little experience with that emotion to know for sure. But all the respect, admiration, lust, and that bewildering emotion that caused his heart to miss a beat every time Harry walked into the room was clearly visible.
Seeing Severus' feelings for him, Harry felt his eyes grow wide. He nearly cried when he realized what he was seeing. Severus didn't recognize love, not even when he was feeling it. His heart aching for his lover, Harry laid his hand on Severus' cheek and kissed him softly. Pushing aside his own desire to thrust wildly, Harry slowly and carefully made love to Severus.
Severus was awestruck. Never before had he felt so cherished. Harry treated him as if he were precious. Each pass of Harry's cock hit his prostate, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. Severus lost himself in Harry's eyes and the rhythm of their bodies, and his climax took him by surprise. He'd never come without direct stimulation before. He threw back his head and moaned softly as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure crashed through his body.
Watching the nearly pained bliss on Severus face, Harry committed the sight to memory. And then his body demanded all his attention. The need to come was overwhelming. Harry thrust once more, then again. Between the sound of Severus' release and the ceaseless clenching of the channel around his cock, he couldn't hold back. Harry lowered his head to Severus' shoulder and thrust a final time, and his orgasm roared though him.
Still wrapped around Harry, panting for breath, Severus rolled them on their sides. He felt Harry's spent prick slide from his body as he reached for his wand. With a quick wave and a muttered word, they were clean. He loosed his legs from around the younger man's waist and straightened them, but kept his arms around his lover. Pulling Harry's head down to rest on his shoulder, Severus kissed the sweaty, messy locks of black hair and then dropped into an exhausted slumber.
Smiling against Severus' chest, Harry sighed. Maybe things weren't perfect between them, but it was a definite improvement. "I'm sorry too, you git," he murmured fondly.