Chapter Seventeen
The next month and a half moved with surprising speed. Harry would have thought it would have gone painfully slowly. Now it was Halloween and much to his horror he found himself having to survive countless girls and boys asking him to go to the party that night with them. Most of them he'd turned down flat, but there were a few that had stunned him to the point he couldn't even answer. Pansy Parkinson was the biggest surprise and it'd taken him almost a minute to process that she had in fact asked him at all.
He managed to show up dateless, which made the night much easier to deal with. Ron and Hermione were dancing, and Harry was dodging in and out of people trying to avoid two very determined Ravenclaw girls. The fact that he ended up hiding behind Snape was no small coincidence.
"Potter, if you think you can stay there all evening, you're sorely mistaken."
Harry flushed. "Just until Lavender gives up looking for me, and then I'll go."
"She is rather determined," Snape said, and Harry could hear the amusement in his voice.
"Not helping, Professor," Harry grumbled.
"There is always the option of agreeing to dance with her, Snape reminded him, "Although from the looks of Mr. Longbottom's expression she is a poor dance partner."
Harry looked over Snape's shoulder. "Shame too, Neville's a pretty flash dancer." He ducked down again when he saw Pansy's eyes scanning the crowd.
"Merlin, Potter, just politely decline."
"I tried! They don't give up!"
"Care to dance, Potter?" came a voice from behind, making Harry jump.
Draco laughed. "Jumpy?"
"No," Harry muttered, flaming from head to toe.
Draco smirked. "No you aren't jumpy or no you don't wish to dance?"
"No to the first, yes to the second." Harry took Draco's outstretched hand. "Excuse us, Professor."
"Behave, Malfoy," Snape warned as the two walked away.
"I always behave, Professor, you know that."
Harry laughed and let himself be dragged onto the dance floor.
"I hear Pansy is trying to get in your pants before you get bonded," Draco said, smirking as he pulled Harry into his arms.
"You hear or were told?" Harry said, letting Draco lead him. "I can't wait until Christmas just so this madness will stop."
"You could be getting so much arse, Potter," Draco said, sighing. "Are you sure you're a virile young man?"
"What makes you think I'm not getting any?" Harry asked defensively.
"If you were Snape would kill you, and you're not dead. Unless…" Draco trailed off, looking over Harry's shoulder at Snape, who was watching them intently.
"Okay, so I'm not," Harry admitted, blushing.
"You're too cute, Potter," Draco teased, "no wonder Snape wants to keep you all to himself."
"Oh, piss off," Harry moaned.
"Oh, unclench!" Draco said, laughing. "I assume things are going well then?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, blushing slightly.
"Well, good then," Draco said. "Now it's only polite for you to ask in turn."
Harry sniggered. "But I know how well you're doing. Haven't you ever heard of keeping it in your pants?"
"When one looks as good as I do, it's rude not to spread it around," Draco said smugly. "Besides, I don't believe in infidelity, so once I'm married I won't have the opportunity."
"Sowing your wild oats then?" Harry asked.
"Who knew I had so many?" Draco said as the song ended.
"Any person who's read a book on the subject," Harry quipped, and in a lowered tone added, "Pansy's heading this way."
"I can see that; and your point would be?"
Harry started to flush again. "Could you possibly distract her while I run away?"
"Coward," Draco said, rolling his eyes. He turned, smiling brilliantly at Pansy.
"There you are! Care to dance?" Draco asked her, taking her arm and spinning her away from Harry.
Harry darted back towards Snape, who was looking at him with a bemused smirk.
He ducked as a bat swooped low, the charmed decoration letting out a shriek as it soared towards the rafters again. The Headmaster had really out done himself with this celebration. The hall was so thick with decorations it was almost unrecognizable. Charmed bats were circling above them as were the candles. Jack-o-lanterns lined the walls and hovered in the air, mingling with the candles that were flickering in and out in some odd dance of their own.
The effect worked though, the hall seemed shrouded in shadows and was spooky enough to give even Harry a small thrill.
"Did you have fun?"
Harry snorted at the greeting. "I didn't step on Draco's toes if that's what you're asking."
"Don't even think about it, Finnegan!" Snape shouted, and Harry saw Seamus shoving a flask in his robe behind Snape.
"How do you do that?" Harry asked, amazed. "I mean, how did you even know he was behind you, let alone about to spike the punch!"
Snape looked upwards and Harry followed his gaze to a small mirror set in the ceiling that reflected the punch bowl. "They're set throughout the room, which I trust you will keep to yourself," Snape warned. "Each mirror is charmed to show different points in the room. If you'd paid any attention, you'd notice that though the staff mingles about the room, they generally end up in the same places. Right near a mirror."
Harry watched as McGonagall pounced on an unsuspecting fifth year Ravenclaw across the room. "That's rather brilliant."
"The Weasley twins managed to circumvent it somehow, but I've yet to figure out how," Snape said, frowning.
"So, I'm guessing dancing together is one of those things on your list of inappropriate things to do?" Harry asked.
"Quite," Snape agreed, surprised that Harry would even think of doing so in front of his friends. He bent down next to Harry's ear. "Perhaps later if you'd like to join me in my quarters," Snape whispered.
Harry arched a brow, trampling down the bout of sadness that Snape's initial rejection caused. "Do you expect me to say anything other than 'yes' to that question?"
"I would hope not," Snape said, smiling.
Harry grinned. "And for the record, Fred and George got the elves to stick the alcohol in the punch in the kitchen."
"The little blighters," Snape muttered. "They were even more trouble than you at times."
"But theirs was always intentional trouble," Harry added with a helpful grin.
Snape didn't bother to hide the small smile. "Did Draco keep his hands to himself?"
"As if you weren't watching the whole time," Harry teased.
Harry's laughter was cut short by a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Ginny standing there with a light blush staining her cheeks.
"Hi, Harry."
"Hey, Ginny," Harry greeted, casting a wary glance at Snape to gauge his reactions. "What's the matter?"
Ginny twisted her skirt. "Would you dance with me?"
Harry saw Snape's eyes darken before he looked away, surveying the crowd of students.
"Sure, I'd love to," Harry said, smiling nervously. With a last wary glance at Snape, he led Ginny out to the dance floor.
By the time they got to the dance floor the fast song that had been playing ended and a horrible, prickling feeling of dread washed over him. He swallowed as the music went absurdly slow. It wasn't even at the speed of the waltz he and Draco had done earlier. Before he could attempt to escape, Ginny had her arms wrapped around Harry's neck.
Trapped by his own inattention, Harry placed his hands on her waist loosely, trying to keep a safe distance between them. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ginny in most situations, but this one was different.
He could feel Snape's eyes on him, and it wasn't like when he was dancing with Draco. The intensity of the gaze was making the skin on his neck prickle.
"Harry, did you hear me?" Ginny asked.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked distractedly.
Ginny sighed. "I said I've missed you."
"Sorry, I know I've been distracted," Harry said uneasily, turning slightly so he could see Snape. But the man was no longer standing where he had left him.
Harry felt unsettled as he swayed gently with the girl in his arms. It was wrong, so utterly and completely wrong, and he couldn't figure out a way to get out of the situation. His gaze darted around the room in desperation, trying to spot the hard-to-miss man, but he gave up his search as a lost cause. Snape must have left the room when his back was turned.
Ginny took his momentary distraction as a cue to worm her way closer to him and rest her cheek on his shoulder.
Harry's palms began to sweat. He wanted to step back, to run, to do something other than just stand there, swaying. But he couldn't pull away. This was Ginny, and as much as he felt like he was going to faint from the stress of just generally not liking this position, he knew he owed her at least this one dance. He just hoped he could make it the whole way.
After what felt like an eternity, the song finally ended. He smiled weakly at Ginny and excused himself, saying he needed to use the loo. He searched the outskirts of the crowd as he pushed his way through. Spotting Draco, he hurried to his side.
"Draco, have you –"
"He went that way. Better hurry, he didn't look amused," Draco told him, pointing to the doors of the Great Hall.
"Thanks," Harry replied, not bothering to respond even when he heard someone calling his name.
He pushed out the doors of the Great Hall and made a beeline to the stairs leading to the dungeons. Before he reached the stairs, someone caught him by the back of his dress robes and pulled him into a darkened corner.
Before he could say a word, Snape's mouth was covering his, the kiss possessive and demanding[R2 .
Harry fell back against the wall, his hands scrabbling at Snape's arms as he clung to him. The world tilted alarmingly and his head hit the rough stone with a dull thunk that sent light racing past his eyes.
Snape pulled back, the sound of Harry's head hitting the wall finally getting through the fog in his mind. "Are you hurt?" he panted.
"Thank you."
"For slamming your head into a wall?" Snape asked, confused.
Harry shook his head. "I was worried."
"Afraid I was going to yell?" Snape asked, leaning in and kissing Harry's neck, needing to erase any memory of the chit he had just held in his arms.
"The least of my worries really."
"What then?" Snape asked, finally pulling back to look at Harry.
Harry shook his head. "It was stupid," he said, leaning forward until his cheek was lined up with Snape's jaw. "Just leave it, all right?"
"I have to go back," Snape said. "Come to my quarters later?" Snape knew he was playing with fire tonight, that his possessiveness was putting his desire for Harry on edge. But he didn't care.
"Can I just go there now?" Harry asked hopefully.
"You know the password," Snape said, nipping Harry's jaw lightly. "I'll be there once all the miscreants have been sent to their rooms."
"So I'll see you around two in the morning then?" Harry joked.
"If I'm that late, kill me," Snape said, turning away and returning to the party.
Harry didn't bother trying to hide the daft smile on his face as he made his way to Snape's quarters.
The familiarity of the brittle pages eased Harry's mind as he pulled the journal off the shelf he'd left it on during his last stay with Snape. Crossing the room, he cast a spell at the fireplace and immediately a fire sprung to life from the dead embers.
He flopped down into Snape's chair and started flipping through the pages of the journal. It was a strange sort of homecoming as his eyes scanned the slanted text, trying to recall what he'd read last.
August 1570
I can't believe that it's reached the point that I'm even contemplating asking Thelonious to make the vow. I know he would do it without question; it is the kind of man he is. But what kind of man am I to ask it of him?
September 1570
I have been urged to take shelter elsewhere. The palace is under siege and I fear that my time here is running short. Thelonious has not let me out of his sight in the past fortnight and I cannot say if this pleases me or annoys me to the point of fury.
Helena and Jamie have fled, for which I am grateful. They shall be at the manor waiting for me. It is no longer a matter of 'if', it is a sure 'when'.
I am losing power. Mother is dismayed, but I find that I do not care. I never wanted this position in the first place. It is not my fault I was the firstborn.
I do not want this, any of this. If my stepping down from power means that the fighting and bloodshed shall end, then I will step down without question.
I can feel the wards surrounding the castle quivering under the force of both Muggle power and rogue magic users. I sense the way they warp with each passing hour. They shall fall. There is nothing I can do about it. I have no doubts this palace will fall into disrepair. I hope for it. This place has brought my family nothing but misery.
October 1570
Thelonious has made the vow. Our families are now bound for the remainder of the ages. I did it to ensure the safety of little James. Whether or not I survive this, my son must, at any cost. Thelonious did not hesitate, and yet I could see the pain in his eyes. Not that he was asked to make the vow, but that he believed I didn't trust him to do his duty. It's not true! I trust him with my life, with the life of my family. Whether his sons will understand that kind of loyalty, I do not know.
Forgive me, Thelonious. I cannot do this without you.
October 1570
The castle wards have been breached; all that is left are the Muggle defenses. A delegate has gone down to speak with the mob to see what it is they want from us. I know this will not end well.
November 1570
Thelonious has told me I must leave and I believe him. I wish I hadn't been so foolish as to tell him to stay even when I go. I want him with me. I want him to go with me and my chest is on fire just thinking of having to leave him behind. There is no doubt in my mind that if I go without him, I shall never see him again.November 1570How can I leave him behind? I want to beg him to come with me, but his duty is here, and mine is to my son. He needs a father. Why must it hurt so badly?
November 1570
Thelonious,
You must find me utterly despicable. I am leaving just like you said, yet I cannot find it within me to say farewell. I cannot look you in the eyes and say those words. By this point you may be out at the castle gates, helping to aid in my escape and I cannot even bear to think on it for too long. Too many times you have come back to me on the brink of death and I do not want to think that there may come a time when you will not be alive.
My bonded, if I had once thought to censure my words during our last audience I would never have demanded you stay. I want you with me. Helena may have my name, but you—
I fear I'm waxing sentimental and that is a foolish thing to do. There is little time for such senseless drivel, and if you dare snort at me I will know.
I love you. I may have only said it once, but it was no truer then than it is now. I love you and no other as much as you. If there is one thing I regret more than anything it is that I did not come to see you last night.
You asked to see me and I could not bring myself to make it to your door. I couldn't even think about the idea, or entertain the idea of seeking comfort in your bed when the next day I will not even be in the same country.
Stay safe, Thelonious. That's the last thing I shall ask of you. Keep your wits about you and stay out of harm's way. You have a child on the way and a wife who is devoted to you. Do not let them down.
I have cast charms upon this journal so only my descendants and their bonded may read these words. Not a day has gone by since we bonded that I feel it was wrong. Take that as you will.
With love,
Carlisle
Harry turned the page, but the next page was blank. When the journal picked up again, it was in a different hand.
Harry closed the book and let it rest on his chest. He wiped at his eyes, feeling like a girl at the tears that were threatening to fall. The worst part was, he had no idea what had happened next. Did they see each other again? Did Thelonious die protecting Carlisle?
Could he ever feeling that deeply for Snape?
Could he not? He shook his head and set the journal carefully on the floor. Taking off his glasses he set them onto the leather-bound piece of his history and curled up on the couch in a fetal position. Even with his shoes and dress robes on, it only took a matter of minutes before Harry found himself asleep.
It was after midnight before Snape returned to his quarters to find Harry curled up on the couch. The journal was on the floor and Snape picked it up, but the pages were all blank. He debated whether to let Harry sleep, or to wake him up moving him to the bed.
The white-hot spike of arousal he had felt earlier was tempered on seeing Harry as he was now. He looked absurdly small, curled up like that. Snape reached down, brushing a lock of hair away from Harry's scar.
"Sev'rus?" Harry mumbled.
"Can you wake enough to make it to bed?" Snape asked, an odd sense of protective tenderness nearly overwhelming him. He cleared his throat. "I'm too old to be caring for you," he said a bit more gruffly.
Harry's lethargic blinking amused him.
"Glasses?"
Snape bent at the waist and picked the glasses up from the floor, handing them to Harry. "That's a good way to get them crushed underfoot."
"Suppose so." Harry put them on and blinked some more until his vision cleared.
Snape held out his hand. "Come to bed, brat."
Harry gave him a lopsided grin as he took Snape's hand. "You still owe me a dance."
Snape pulled Harry up and against his chest and holding him closely, began to sway.
Harry laughed as he tripped over Snape's shoe. "I didn't mean now."
"Now is as good a time as any," Snape murmured, tightening his hold. He inhaled deeply, taking in Harry's scent, the feel of his body against his own. The arousal returned, but it was a slow burn, not the quick heat of earlier.
Harry didn't argue that logic. He rested his head against Snape's shoulder much as Ginny had done to him earlier, only this time it didn't feel weird, nor was it unwelcome to feel Snape's cheek brush against his hair.
Harry wrapped his arms around Snape's waist, interlocking his fingers and letting more of his body relax against Snape's. He felt content and cozy...and Snape's erection was against his hip. They hadn't even kissed or anything, but Snape was still turned on, still wanted him.
Harry's chest was suffused with warmth. A feeling he didn't recognize seemed to take hold of him. He smiled against Snape's shoulder, thinking it was odd that he'd never been happier than in that moment.
But like all moments this one had to end, and too soon for Harry's liking, Snape pulled away.
"Bed," Snape said, taking Harry's hand and leading him to the bedroom. "I've got a headache the size of Ireland," he admitted tiredly.
Harry didn't even bother changing. He just kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his robes before crawling onto the bed.
Snape snorted, and went about his normal bedtime routine before sliding into bed next to Harry. Harry shifted backwards toward him and Snape pulled him snugly against his chest. Soon, they were both sound asleep.
"Where'd you go last night, Harry?" Ron asked at breakfast the next morning. Harry rolled his eyes and shot a pointed look up at the head table. "Oh." Ron's ears went red. Harry did nothing to disabuse him of the notion that something more had happened.
"Harry, you're...glowing," Hermione said, laughing. "Must have been some night."
"It was an interesting one, to be sure," Harry said vaguely.
Hermione's eyes widened. "Harry? Did you...you know?"
"Remember the chat we had awhile back about his privacy?" Harry said, grinning, enjoying teasing his friends. Things were normal between them again, and he didn't feel as though he had to walk on eggshells around them.
"If you did, I don't want to hear about it," Ron announced, face screwing up in distaste. Harry laughed and slapped him on the back.
"If you insist."
"I insist," Ron said, shuddering.
Hermione's giggles entered into the noise and Ron shot her a betrayed look that only made her laughter increase, Harry's too at that. Ron sulked and pushed his sausage around his plate.
"I wouldn't tell you any of that," Harry assured him once he had managed to calm down. "I wouldn't tell either of you about that."
Hermione looked put out and Harry didn't want to know why. "But, if something does happen, I'll tell you, in the simplest way I can."
"So then nothing happened?" Hermione asked, hoping for clarification.
"If you're still asking, then I haven't told you in the simplest terms, which means that no, nothing happened."
"Merlin, you're starting to talk like him," Ron groaned.
"You don't have to be mean about it."
Ron shoved him and Harry grinned.
Harry glanced up at the High Table to find Snape looking at him, a strange expression on his face. Harry grinned, and Snape inclined his head in Harry's direction. Even from that distance, Harry could see the way Snape's eyes softened for a moment before he looked away.
It wasn't hard to miss the sudden burst of whispering. Harry rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast in peace, listening to Ron and Hermione squabble. Christmas really could not come soon enough