CHAPTER 20

shogi: Yes, Severus is having a hard time producing those fake memories, and it's going to get harder…

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He called me by my name, and he pronounced Voldemort's name, Harry mused as he ate dinner in his bedroom. Both in the same sentence, too…

"It is supposed to be abusive in the eyes of Voldemort, Harry."

He thought back to the consummation of their blood bond. How they had not had eye contact during the act. Would he have felt better if he could have looked into Severus's eyes? Or worse, seeing the loathing in them? Did Severus still loathe him? He had the feeling that Severus was used to sharing his rooms with him and was treating him with far less disdain. They had not argued for some time. He recalled the look Severus had given him when he had been in the process of explaining what a tourmaline was. Or the quick glances Severus would send his way when they were working together on a potion, with Harry cutting up some ingredient or the other and Severus stirring a complicated concoction in his cauldron, his thick black hair, velvety and soft ever since Dobby had arranged it on the day of the wedding and bonding ceremony, often tied back. When Severus moved, he did so with grace and fluidity. His tapering fingers were so agile that Harry was often astonished at the speed with which they handled Potions ingredients. At the same time, his fingers could be deliberately languid, moving slowly over the spines of books, or tracing his mouth when he was in deep contemplation. Harry would often catch a restless gleam in Severus's black eyes, hinting at the equally restless mind behind them, and he would wonder what Severus was thinking. Harry was becoming familiar with such characteristic gestures and habits; and he had discovered tonight that Severus could laugh very pleasantly and that his smile was rather charming, softening the grimness of his thin and pale face. Harry also realised that Severus's eyes were an extremely deep dark-brown colour in the daylight or when bright artificial light was shining fully upon his face. He had made this discovery during their past arguments, when Severus had come close to him and stared threateningly into his eyes. He tried to imagine what Severus would have been like if he had not come from a broken home. Whether he would have smiled and laughed much more often...

After dinner, Harry tried to sketch a smiling Severus from partly his imagination, partly from the fresh memory of Severus laughing, but it didn't work. If he drew Severus, whether smiling or serious, then it would have to be the real thing, so to speak. He did not even have a photograph of his husband, and no pictures had been taken of their wedding. It seemed so wrong to him. Hermione and Ron had each other's animated pictures in their wallets. Harry sighed and crumpled up his botched sketches. He flicked them into the wastepaper basket, which emitted a sonorous burp. He grinned and wondered if Dumbledore had come up with the idea of adding this interesting acoustic effect to the wastepaper baskets. He turned to the task of writing letters to his friends and Ron's parents and siblings. He had given the twins detailed information on the pastilles and itching bombs. He was already looking forward to their next instalment. He wondered whether Severus had been serious about using itch bombs during a Death Eater meeting, and whether he had done so during Voldemort's dinner. He managed to ask Severus this question before they both went to bed; they come across each other in the library, Severus freshly showered.

"Well…What do you think, Harry? Did I use a bomb?" Severus asked him in return, staring into his eyes. Harry wished that it was he who could perform Legilimency; he could not guess the answer from Severus's body language, face or tone. He did, however, register the use of his first name again. Had his going to Dumbledore's office in a fit of anxiety about Severus's well-being actually touched something in the cynical Slytherin?

"How about a hint?"

"It is a yes or no question," Severus said, his eyes still locked with Harry's, who was starting to blush under such a keen gaze.

"You have got ten seconds to guess."

"Just one question: were all the Death Eaters invited?"

"Yes. All."

Harry gritted his teeth mentally at the thought of Bellatrix, who had killed his beloved godfather.

"You didn't use a bomb."

"And why do you think I didn't use one?"

"Uhm…because it would be an unnecessary risk to pull off a prank during a formal Death Eater dinner?"

"I forgot to mention that Peter Pettigrew was banished from the table for scratching himself in public."

"I guessed wrong!"

"Obviously."

"But I thought you had Malfoy in mind…?"

Severus leant towards him.

"People change their minds," he whispered, his breath slightly ruffling a strand of black hair on Harry's forehead. "Good night, Harry."

The next evening found Harry sketching busily in the hall. The art teacher was pleased with his progress and had declared Luna's portrait "a fine and delicate piece of work."

The students had been given magical easels which, apart from being collapsible like muggle ones, could be shrunk and carried around in one's bag or even pocket. Like the paint boxes, the easels were loaned to the students for the duration of the course and had to be returned for the next batch of students to use – the class was so popular that Dumbledore had decided to continue it for another term or two. Harry was just adding the finishing touches to the drawing – something he had been working on for two or three evenings – when the door opened silently, revealing Severus Snape, tired and irritable after grading piles of essays. His dark eyes lingered on Harry, and he slowly moved towards the young wizard. When Harry leant back, he edged closer and examined the drawing, hands behind his back. Harry looked up, pleased that his husband was taking in an interest in what he was doing. Severus was surprised at what he could see. Harry had sketched three round links which seemed to belong to a bracelet or necklace. One link was hooked into the other. The links had the shape of snakes, their mouths biting their own tails, thus forming metal circles with their bodies.

Severus immediately recognised the ouroboros-motive of the tail-biting snake. He slowly shifted his eyes to Harry. He had never regarded him as particularly original or imaginative – rather the opposite.

"You have skill and imagination," he remarked. Apart from the fact that Harry had drawn the animal which was the symbol of his House, he added silently in thought.

Harry blinked, overwhelmed by what he considered an enormous compliment from Severus Snape.

"Thank you," he said, sounding a little guarded.

Severus studied the sketch again.

"That patch of wall could do with some filling up."

He pointed at a large well-lit space opposite the fireside.

"There," he said abruptly. "It would fit."

Harry swallowed.

"You want to…hang it up?"

"Yes."

"Uh, it's only an amateur sketch…"

"There should be enough light on that wall," Severus continued, ignoring him.

Harry touched his hand, finally getting his attention.

"I…Well…Thank you, Severus. I am happy you like it."

"I think I clearly implied that the walls do look bare in places. Your artistic creation is just the right size to cover the deficiency," Severus remarked stiffly. Harry smiled inwardly. It was Severus's way of expressing that he liked the picture.

Within two days, Harry's sketch was showcased in an elegant frame and fastened to the wall with a powerful Sticking Charm. Severus's gesture pleased and moved Harry deeply. The result was that the atmosphere in the dungeons improved significantly. Conversations became less halting and more genuine. Severus discovered that his young husband had many notions and ideas which people of his age did not usually have. He now acknowledged that Harry had had to grow up very early without love or a real family, more dismayed than pleased by his fame, missing out on a normal happy childhood and adolescence. And yet he was still innocent verging on naïve in some matters – which Severus found secretly charming. When Hagrid gave them a Christmas tree for their quarters a few days before Christmas, Harry was nearly wild with joy, clapping his hands and looking up spells to decorate it while Severus shook his head and resignedly cleaned the trail of pine needles leading to Harry's bedroom and back with a spell.

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