Chapter Six -
My heart, forsaken, stirs from its slumber
Harry was mesmerized by Severus' penetrating gaze, drawn in by his open, honest expression of hope. Seconds seemed to stretch out into an eternity as he looked deeply into the onyx eyes, so beautiful in their vulnerability yet forlorn with an enduring pain. Severus' pale features exhibited a profound insecurity, even as the daring question fell from his quavering lips; his intrepid grip on Harry's hand remaining resolute, despite the faint, persistent tremors wracking their woven fingers.
Breath ensnared, heart hammering and a sudden frisson of heat traveling down his spine, Harry answered him at length, giving the shocking truth a tentative voice.
"Yes... yes... this is what I meant," he responded in a tenuous whisper, "Is this... is this OK?"
Severus lowered his head, his dark eyes settling on their entwined hands again. He worried the right side of his lower lip between his teeth in a nervous gesture just as a shaky breath broke free. After a moment, his eyes lifted and he gave a timid, protracted nod while the corners of his thin lips turned up into a small, hesitant smile.
Harry's heart warmed at the sight. He answered the shy grin with one of his own before the sudden heat of embarrassment in his cheeks and neck prompted him to look away again.
"Gray? Are you... have you ever...I mean, is this normal for you... or is this...?" Severus stammered, his words coming out in a series of rushed awkward splutters.
Harry looked back at him, surprised to hear Severus' usual impressive vocabulary reduced to half-sentences and incomplete thoughts, and startled when he noticed for the first time a faint blush on the normally pallid skin.
"No. This is... this is all new for me," Harry replied, grey eyes flitting between that dark, anxious gaze and that lower lip once again caught between Severus' teeth. Harry felt a sudden, mad urge to run his finger along the smooth skin of that lip.
"But I... I want this," he finished in a shaky whisper, lowering his head to glance at their clasped hands. He mimicked Severus' earlier gesture, bringing his other hand over to their joined hands, caressing Severus' pale inner wrist with the tips of his fingers and skimming them along the porcelain skin of his forearm.
A shudder ran through Harry when he realized it was the very spot that would one day be marred by the indecent mark of an evil monster. He heard Severus' breath hitch at his touch, pulling him from his morbid musings and causing him to return his focus to Severus' face. The dark orbs were unseen now, hidden from view by his lowered lids.
Harry's own breath seemed to slow along with Severus' as he studied the rapt features, his own face softened in a quiet euphoria.
Gradually, jet-black eyes emerged from behind heavy lids and the small, contented simper returned.
"I think... I think that I want this too," Severus remarked, eyes locking with Harry's again, his voice breathy and trembling.
"Then... what now?" Harry inquired in a quiet, hesitant tone, laden with unease.
"Perhaps we should just focus on one thing at a time," Severus answered. His gaze drifted to their hands once more, and Harry shuddered as the slender thumb again swept along the side of his scar.
"Let's just... go down to the forest to feed Spera. We can talk more there, and it will be a bit more... private," Severus added, his eyes snapping up to meet Harry's.
Harry nodded in agreement, the intensity of Severus' gaze prompting him to emit a faint, anxious chuckle. He could feel his flushed cheeks reddening still further and found himself looking away again, sudden shyness gripping him, causing his heart to race and his nervous panic to heighten. How was it that he had enough courage - just barely though - to allow one of the Darkest wizards of all time to cast the killing curse on him, yet felt almost paralyzed with fear at the thought of a private conversation with Severus after this latest disclosure?
"Gray... one thing at a time, remember? And if you think I'm not terrified by all of this too... well... I guess you don't know me nearly as well as you think you do," Severus added while glancing down at their hands once more, as if fascinated by the sight of their entwined fingers.
Harry took a moment to study Severus' features, taking time to notice the pink tinge to the alabaster skin, while still conscious of the slight tremor affecting the slender hand clasped within his own. He felt a new rush of affection for Severus, realizing that the boy was just as nervous as he was about this development, but he still felt compelled to ease Harry's rising panic by admitting to his own apprehension.
Silence permeated the narrow hallway, broken only by their slow, timorous breathing. Then Severus raised his head and locked gazes with Harry, renewed smiles emerging on both blushing faces as they stared at one another.
"And it might also be a good idea to... limit this sort of thing while we're in public," Severus added, his blush deepening. The smooth hand gripping Harry's squeezed one final time, then its hold slackened as it withdrew.
"Oh... yeah... you're right," Harry agreed, letting his empty hand fall to his side. It felt strangely cold now, bereft of the warmth from Severus' long fingers. Harry's own fingers fidgeted as they closed into a tentative fist held loosely at his side, as if the sudden loss caused an uncertainty of purpose.
"So... to the forest, then?" he asked.
"Yes, but I'll meet you there. I want to grab something from our dorm room first," Severus answered, his faint blush still discernible in small patches across his cheeks and neck. He took several steps toward the Slytherin common room before turning around to face Harry again.
"Just give me a five minutes. You know where to go, right? I'll meet you in the clearing," he announced, his grin returning as he turned again and disappeared down the narrow, dark corridor.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -
Harry wasn't quite certain why Severus had insisted on stopping by the dorm first, or why he seemed adamant that they meet in the clearing, but he was still grateful to have some time by himself to reflect on what had just occurred.
Once he reached the glade, Harry sat down in front of the same tree he had seen Severus reclining against the day before, his focus settling on the long trenches in the soil which had been generated by Severus' delving toes. Smiling to himself at the endearing memory, he leaned back against the tree, closed his eyes and allowed the details of the last half hour to come streaming back to him.
Taking a deep breath, Harry slowed his thoughts, choosing to dwell on the exquisite feel of Severus' hand against his and the sensation of those long, elegant fingers ghosting the length of his forearm in a gentle caress. The soft, hesitant touch had been so intoxicating, so electrifying. Even the feather-light feel of Severus' thumb sweeping along the scarred flesh on the back of his hand had sent shivers through Harry's entire body, causing his breathing to stutter and his heartbeat to speed up. The exhilarating sensation of Severus' warm skin brushing up against his had felt so intimate that even now, just recalling the memory of that touch and bringing it to the forefront of his mind, was enough to affect Harry physically. He felt himself becoming excited… even aroused.
"God, how is this possible? I just - I just can't understand..." Harry burst out, eyes snapping open as he ran his fingers through his wavy brown locks in a nervous, absentminded gesticulation, face again flushing hot.
Pushing off hard from the ground in one quick motion, he stood up, his feet launching into agitated pacing while he struggled to gain control of his unexpected feverishness. He was still grappling with the confused feelings he was experiencing for Severus, and now he was faced with the fact that he was actually becoming excited... sexually... simply by a few soft caresses and some innocent hand-holding.
What was happening to him?
Harry stilled his nervous pacing and took several deep breaths now, striving to calm his heightened physical and mental state. This really wasn't that unusual, he tired to convince himself. After all, he was at the pinnacle of his adolescence. This was the period of time when it was normal to feel strong spikes of desire.
Besides, It wasn't as though being aroused by someone's touch was foreign territory for him. Harry had felt the kindle of sexual excitement before with Ginny, having dated her for two whole months before breaking up at the end of sixth year. Their time together had included several occasions when he had felt himself becoming turned on while in the throes of a heated snogging session.
Well, if truth be told, Harry's state of arousal with Ginny had never really been that intense, not even when she had pressed her slim, lithe body against his while they were kissing. He recalled one rare incident when they had absconded to the Astronomy Tower just before curfew. They were leaning against the stone wall of a secluded alcove, locked in a tight embrace, and Ginny had kissed that spot just below his ear that had always proved extra sensitive.
He clearly remembered feeling a physical reaction that night. It had been strong enough that he had opted to pull away from her in order to maintain a semblance of control over the situation. With a sense of chagrin, he realized now that his action, while wholly commendable, wasn't what most of his peers would have done.
Feeling that spark of arousal only happened when their physical contact had been extensive or prolonged. Since he and Ginny hadn't advanced much in the way of intimate touching - not that she was unwilling, Harry was honest enough to admit to himself - those experiences were sparse. To be frank, the whole of Harry's formative teenage years had been far too encumbered with trying to avoid an early death at the hands of Voldemort, thus leaving him with very little time to spend tending to his developing carnal desires.
Not once, though, in all of those moments with Ginny, had he ever felt such a burning desire as he had moments ago. It had felt as though his entire body was trembling in anticipation... and all from a few simple touches and timorous looks. Never before had his body, heart and soul longed for someone with such passion, such intense fervor. Every part of him seemed to ache for more of Severus; more of his soft caresses and timid glances, more of those nervous gasps and anxious grins, more time staring into those impassioned, dark eyes that seemed to reach something deep inside of him... something that until now had slumbered within him, a previously dormant yearning which was now restless and stirring.
Harry closed his eyes again. With a soft exhalation, he gave into his wish and imagined gazing into those shadowy depths, so vulnerable with a distant sadness, yet open with a profound hopeful longing. He imagined touching Severus' flushed cheeks with the fingertips of both hands and brushing his thumbs along the hard line of his jaw. He pictured threading his fingers through the strands of thin, ebony hair at the nape of that pale, slender neck and how the dark hair would slide in between his fingers.
Would the skin on the back of that neck be as warm and soft as the fingers that had caressed Harry's arm, as soft as that lower lip that had drawn his attention again and again, captured between those crooked teeth that somehow held the same charm as their owner?
Skin prickling with a heated blush, Harry visualized himself leaning closer to Severus, close enough to feel his shaky breaths, warm and inviting, flitting across his own lips, close enough to imagine hearing the other boy's heart racing with his own.
If he did that, would Severus pull away? Or would he draw closer and press those soft, thin lips to his…
"Gray?"
"Wha–? Huh?" Harry stammered as he was ripped from his trance-like reverie. His eyes snapped open and he whirled around in the direction of the familiar voice, fresh color surging into his cheeks as embarrassment seized him. All of the sudden, he was very thankful for his loose-fitting school robes, for he was certain his arousal would be evident otherwise.
"S-S-Severus! I - I'm sorry... I... you startled me!" he finished lamely.
Head lowered to conceal his now fiery blush, he edged closer to Severus and was surprised to notice a similar color on Severus' face as well. Perhaps he wasn't the only one reminiscing about their actions in that empty dungeon corridor, Harry thought.
Despite the slight awkward start to their meeting, Severus dove into the task at hand, offering Harry the same burlap sack Hagrid had carried into the forest the day before.
"Here, if you start with the meat, I'll get Spera's potion ready. I assume you know what to do since it is quite obvious you were spying on me and Hagrid yesterday," Severus chaffed.
For just an instant, the onyx eyes fixed Harry with a mild glare that was so evocative of the adult Professor Snape's that Harry had a hard time not cowering in perceived admonishment. A moment later, the reprimanding look vanished and Severus returned his attention to the contents of his school bag, a vibrant, playful smirk emerging on his thin face as he rummaged through it.
Desiring nothing more at that moment than for his deep blush to recede, Harry turned away from Severus. Recalling Hagrid's actions the day before, he pulled chunks of raw meat from the burlap sack and tossed them into the middle of the clearing. When he finished, he turned back to find Severus emptying the contents of a large glass bottle into the feeding pail, the same thick and glutinous substance he had seen yesterday.
"What is that stuff, anyway?" Harry asked, approaching the other boy to get a better look at the odd-looking concoction.
"It is a gestative nutritional potion, devised specifically for the needs of thestrals. It consists of foods rich in the amino acids that are capable of strengthening a thestral's meager muscular system," Severus explained, his dark eyes spirited with uncontrolled verve as he continued to expound on the subject he adored.
"The most prevalent ingredients are seaweed and soy protein, both of which contain large amounts of Leucine, an amino acid that maintains and strengthens muscles. Those two ingredients are responsible for the green hue and viscid consistency. There's also alfalfa and chicken eggs, both rich in Ornithine, another amino acid for muscle development, and kale for its large quantities of Aspartic acid which increases energy at the cellular level."
"Wow." Harry blinked. "You must have done a lot of research about that potion to understand it so well. Do you prepare it for her yourself?"
"Yes. Every Saturday, I brew enough for the week ahead. But I didn't have to research the potion… not the way you implied. It is my own potion. I invented it."
Severus gaze drifted down, as if self-conscious of his achievement, but Harry wouldn't allow him to shy away.
"Severus, that's incredible! You should be proud of that. Have you invented many potions?"
"A few," Severus answered with a shrug. Then he looked up, his eyes focused on the far edge of the clearing from which a faint rustling sound was issuing. "Here they come."
Several thestrals emerged from the thicket, their thin necks elevated, snouts high in the air as they tracked the lingering scent of blood. With avid steps, they approached the offered meal and tore into the meat.
"Where is she?" Harry whispered, his eyes darting back and forth, seeking the smaller thestral's slight form.
"There" Severus answered, arm outstretched and index finger pointing to the very tree Harry had sat in front of earlier. Spera's small head was just discernible peeping out from behind one of its low hanging branches.
"She often hides from the others, especially when they are feeding," Severus explained, "It's instinctual for a pregnant thestral to protect her unborn foal from any possible danger and that includes the others' aggressive tendencies while eating. It is best to let her approach us. She'll come when she feels it's safe."
A few minutes later, the frail creature emerged from her sanctuary, advancing with small, tentative steps toward the two awaiting boys. Harry kept still, pleased that she didn't seem to mind his presence, while Severus met her advancement with a slow easy approach of his own. He lowered the pail and coaxed her to it with gentle words of encouragement.
"That's it, girl. Come on, you're safe now," he whispered, a warm smile adorning his features.
Spera reached the pail and eagerly partook of the offering while Severus rewarded her efforts by stroking her slender neck. His smile grew as he continued his ministrations, dark eyes alight with sentiment.
Harry was awed by the alluring sight, just as he had been the day before. Severus was so gentle with the thestral, so careful with the comfort he bestowed on her. With each tender touch, it was as though Severus offered more and more of his heart to the creature. The beautiful exchange made Harry's heart ache again, for this caring, selfless boy, as well as the cold and distant man he would one day become. A part of him still wanted to ponder on why, but the scene before him was too tempting to ignore right now.
"She means a lot to you, doesn't she?" Harry muttered as he inched closer to the two.
Severus' glowing expression of altruistic regard fell in an instant, the muscles lining his jaw tightening and a trace of despair emanating from his eyes.
"Yes. She does," came his whispered response, "I'm going to miss her so much."
"Miss her? Why, what do you mean?" Harry inquired. His confusion deepened further when Severus turned to face him, his dark eyes attenuated as if pondering the reason for Harry's question.
After a short pause, Severus took a deep breath, his frown clearing as understanding came to him.
"You haven't taken NEWT-level Care of Magical Creatures, have you, Gray?" he asked, his voice flat, despondent.
"No, I dropped the class after my OWLs. Why?"
"If you had continued with the classes, you'd have learned that pregnant thestrals die the moment their newborn foal takes its first breath."
"What?" Harry was shocked. "How... how can that be? I don't understand!"
"Thestrals," Severus began, his tone reminiscent of his future self's teaching voice, "embrace the spirit of death, as well as its emotional aftermath… the devastation and the beauty. This is why only those who've seen death, who truly have an understanding of death's power to ravage as well as to inspire, are able to lay eyes upon the creatures. However, nothing conveys the quintessence of death's sacrifice or the intrinsic benevolence of this species more than the selfless act of the mother thestral.
Severus' brooding gaze fell upon Spera before returning to Harry's now distressed visage.
"You see, Gray, thestrals symbolize not only death, but the never-ending cycle of life and death. The thestral's instinct is to perpetuate this pattern. Their inherent tendency dictates that when a new thestral is born, one must die in its stead. In other words, either the unborn foal cannot survive the birth, or the mother must die so that the foal can live. Magizoologists who have studied the species have surmised that the mother thestral is cognizant of this cyclic paradigm. In other words, she is conscious of the fact that she has a choice. She needn't die. Yet she chooses to. And this is what makes her so beautiful…. she willingly gives up her life for her foal… her sacrifice is inspired by her abiding love… Gray?"
Harry knew he was not reacting well to what he was hearing, but he felt powerless to stop it. All at once, his breaths were coming out in short, desperate gasps, his stomach was twisting, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. His legs seemed to have lost their ability to support him as he sank to the ground, trembling. Hot, anguished tears spilled from his burning eyes.
"Gray… what's wrong? GRAY!"
Aware of nothing but his suffocating misery, Harry's voice faltered, his attempt to answer Severus coming out as a whimper as he leaned forward and concentrated on slowing down his erratic breathing. Struggling to comprehend his extreme reaction, Harry's mind replayed Severus' speech about the mother thestral's ultimate sacrifice, searching for what had triggered his current panic.
It didn't take long.
The similarity between the pregnant thestral's sacrifice and his own mother's untimely death was too obvious to ignore, eliciting a latent pain from deep within him to surface. Harry tried to divert his thoughts away from his mother's murder, but all he could think about as he continued to take in huge gulps of air, tears streaming down his heated cheeks, was that horrible memory he was forced to relive last Christmas Eve while trapped within a demented monster's mind...
...his mother... arms spread out... begging... pleading... screaming for the life of her child...
No... Not Harry! Not Harry! Please no… Take me... Kill me instead...
"GRAY!"
Not Harry! Not Harry! Please… I'll do anything...
"GRAY! ANSWER ME!"
"I... I c-c-can't… I can't… I'm s-s-sorry..." Harry cried, his voice quavering, barely audible between his desperate panting. He felt two trembling hands on his face, coaxing him to look up into anxious, ebony eyes.
Severus was kneeling in front of him, his gentle touch quelling the worst of Harry's terror. Exhaling, Harry leaned into the touch and gazed upon Severus' pained and frightened expression as the boy spoke again, his voice a low, hushed timbre.
"What's wrong, Gray? Why are you in so much pain?"
"Severus… I can't tell you. I- I'm sorry…."
"Shhh, it's OK. Shhh," Severus soothed, his thumbs sweeping along Harry's tear-streaked cheeks, wiping away the wetness.
Harry brought his hands up to Severus' wrists, closing them in a desperate grip, as he continued to lose himself in the compassionate eyes trained on him. As Severus' soothing words continued, Harry's heart clenched in pain and regret for what the future held… for this beautiful soul who would one day grow to loathe him because of his very existence and the imminent tragedy surrounding his presence in this world.
"Severus…. promise me something?" Harry whispered, his grip on the thin wrists tightening, reminding himself of that heartbreaking moment in the Shrieking Shack when he had held the adult Professors Snape's wrist, steadying the convulsing hand on his cheek, giving comfort while the man battled for his every breath.
"Anything," Severus responded, his voice cracking with emotion.
"When she dies…. please, please... don't blame the foal…"
"What? I - I wouldn't…!"
"Promise me! Please..."
Instead of answering, Severus withdrew his hands from Harry's damp cheeks and stood up. He reached for Harry's left hand with his own, covering the carved words on the back with his palm, curling his fingers and lacing them in between Harry's.
A shaky gasp escaped Harry as a powerful feeling of comfort and safety washed over him. When the hand gave a gentle yet insistent tug, he placed pressure on his still weak legs and surrendered to the silent request, allowing Severus to pull him up to a standing position and turn him around. Harry leaned back on the taller boy who walked behind him, his right hand gripping Harry's shoulder, guiding him with slow, cautious steps over to where Spera was still drinking her supplement potion.
When they had reached the creature, Severus directed their entwined hands toward the thestral's swollen belly, placing Harry's palm on her smooth, squamous flesh and guiding it down to her distended underside. Surprisingly, Spera was undisturbed by their proximity. When their hands finally stilled, Severus move closer to Harry, his chest pressing up against the other boy's back, his head tipping forward, so close that Harry could feel his every breath flitting across the side of his neck and hear the nearly silent command.
"Wait."
A long moment elapsed with the air silent and expectant around them. The quietude permeated the space, interjected only by their slow, steady breathing and the sounds of Spera drinking. With every intake of breath, Harry felt his anxiety lessening. Then...
"There."
Harry gasped as he felt a hard kick against his palm, the action emphatic and impatient. His hand was then dragged down, just in time for him to experience another tenacious movement from the foal.
Again, Severus moved their hands, guiding them toward the very center of Spera's abdomen and applying pressure to Harry's outstretched fingers, encouraging him to press into the firm, taut flesh. He leaned even closer, lips almost touching Harry's ear.
"It's faint, but you can feel it…."
It took a full minute for Harry to still his movements enough to feel anything, but at length he discerned the rapid, persistent beat of life pulsing beneath his fingers, its rhythm strong and resolute. He felt the corners of his mouth turning up in a hesitant smile as he was confronted with proof that this beautiful new life was real, with beating heart and kicking limbs, longing for life, anxious to breathe and run and feel...
"Gray, look at me."
Harry's breath hitched at the familiar command, once again drawn back to those anguished moments on the dirty floor of the Shrieking Shack. It was the first time Harry had ever looked deeply into the eyes of his Potions Professor, the first time he had ever seen such torment and sorrow, and that look had changed him forever.
Submitting to the request just as he had done days ago, Harry turned his head to gaze into those dark, emotive eyes, so open, honest and laden with warmth. Their bodies were close and their hands still knitted together, that tiny heartbeat flitting against their fingertips. Harry held his breath, awaiting Severus' next words.
"I may not know the real reason behind your request or why you were so upset, but I promise you, Gray. I promise you, I will not blame the foal."
Harry closed his eyes, another tremulous breath escaping him, as he felt the release of a heavy burden. A dormant ache inside him seemed to dissolve, alleviating some of his previous spiraling dread. Severus may not understand the significance behind Harry's impassioned plea, but the sincerity in the boy's voice as he issued his emphatic promise along with his heartfelt display with Spera seemed to heal some wounded part of Harry's heart.
After a moment, Severus stepped backwards and pulled Harry with him, drawing them further from Spera.
"And… I… I have something for you," Severus muttered. Withdrawing his left hand from Harry's grasp, he reached inside the front pocket of his robes and pulled out a small glass vial, filled with a shimmering gold potion. He pulled out the stopper, pocketed it and then reached for Harry's left hand once more.
Pulling it close to his chest, Severus turned it over so that the white lines of the linguistic cicatrix were displayed, stark and distinct, contrasting with Harry's tanned skin. After a brief hesitation, Severus held the small bottle over Harry's hand, allowing two golden drops to fall onto the marred flesh.
With gentle motions, Severus spread the drops with his fingertips. The tender ministration prompted Harry's breath to hitch as he relished the feel of the soft caress even as his traitorous body stirred again. Grey eyes travelled up to watch the expression of careful determination on Severus' thin face, his dark eyes fixed on the scar as he continued to work the potion into his skin.
Soon, Severus' movements stilled. Dark eyes found grey, then receded, focusing once again on the back of Harry's hand which was now tingling.
Harry shivered as the slight prickling sensation in his scar caused goosebumps to erupt along the entire length of his left arm.
"Most people would not be so trusting as to allow an unknown potion to touch their skin," Severus commented in a hushed tone, eyes still downcast.
"I'm not most people," Harry replied, "and I trust you, Severus."
The other boy gave a tiny nod but did not look up.
"What does the potion do?" Harry asked.
"It fades scars," came the faint response, quieter, more hesitant, Severus' eyes still trained on Harry's scar. "But not right away. It must be applied every day for at least a month before you begin to see results. And it will not work if the scar is very old… older than five years or so…."
All at once, Harry understood Severus' sudden, aloof behavior, the averted gaze and hesitant voice, the return of the slight tremble in the hand still holding his. This potion was another of Severus' own inventions, one he needed desperately as a way to conceal the visible manifestations of his father's heinous abuse.
Without hesitation, Harry withdrew his left hand from Severus' and placed it on the side of his face, noticing for the first time the hint of a scar along his right cheekbone, the taut skin slightly pinker in color and smoother than the surrounding skin. Harry traced the almost imperceptible mark once with the pad of his thumb and then brushed back the strands of ebony hair that had fallen across his hand, tucking them behind Severus' ear.
A soft gasp issued from Severus' lips as Harry's fingertips trailed through the thin, black strands. Their exploration did not cease, but ghosted over the soft skin just behind Severus' ear, lingering on a spot just below it where Harry felt the raised indication of another scar. He applied gentle pressure to turn Severus' face just enough for him to view the faded line that stretched all the way down Severus' slender neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.
"I hate how much he's hurt you," Harry voiced, his tone fierce, teeth grinding together as he fought his swelling rage.
Severus looked into the angry grey eyes and brought his right hand up to capture Harry's wrist, long fingers encircling in a firm grasp. His focus was penetrating, tenebrous eyes filled with an emotion Harry couldn't quite place, its fortitude fervent, passionate and unwavering.
"Don't, Gray, please don't," Severus pleaded, "Please, I… I don't want to talk about my father…"
Harry let his hand fall, taking Severus' hand with it. Without thought, their fingers laced once again as they continued to stare into each other's eyes, caught up in the vehemence of the moment.
"You don't have to talk about him, Severus, not if you don't want to. I promise not to bring him up again."
Severus lowered his head, eyes cast down again as he nodded. He fiddled with the potion bottle for a moment, his dark eyes following his own nervous, agitated movements, before reaching into his pocket for the stopper, sealing the small vial, and then placing it in Harry's right hand in a decisive gesture.
"Here, this vial is for you," Severus murmured, "I have more in my school trunk."
Harry gripped Severus' hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement and thanks. He knew first hand how difficult it was to face someone who was aware that your home life was less than ideal, the pain and the humiliation of admitting that the very people who were supposed to love and care for you, did nothing but cause you pain.
Harry felt a reciprocal squeeze and, once again, the soft caress of Severus' thumb brushed across the scar that still felt warm and tingly, the tender touch sending shivers through him.
"I don't suppose you can tell me how you got that scar?"
"No. I can't," Harry replied, "You're not meant to know about it or even see it again until…"
"Until?"
Harry swallowed hard, head lowering to try to conceal the new tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he recalled the moment when Professor Snape had recognized Harry as Gray, the anguished, tortured moan that had fallen from his lips… the look of utter despair and pain twisting his features at the revelation that it was Harry Potter all along…
"Gray? I think maybe we should… leave it here for now," Severus whispered, repeating Harry's words from their conversation in the middle of last night. "Besides, we have homework to do. We could work together. Unless you think you can write that Arithmancy essay without my help, that is."
Harry looked back up, relieved to see a familiar smirk curving Severus' lips. He wiped the fresh tears from his eyes with the heels of his hands while a quiet chuckle issued from his tentative grin.
"Yeah. Yeah, I could use the help."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -
The rest of the evening could be described as a typical weeknight for a seventh-year NEWT student, with no fewer than five hours of feverish essay writing, meticulous note-taking and painstaking required reading. Harry and Severus did not even leave the Slytherin common room and retire to their dorm until well after midnight.
Despite their arduous workload, Harry found that he enjoyed the experience of studying with someone as fastidious as Severus. Hermione had always been a diligent study partner, yes, but even she paled in comparison to Severus.
The boy was an absolute sponge. He seemed to be able to retain every single word he had ever read, making sense of everything with little effort. He also had the uncanny ability to explain the material to Harry so that he could comprehend it, taking the time to expound on the typical elucidations in innovative ways to give more clarity, even those subjects which Harry had no previous knowledge of.
He didn't think he had ever learned so much in just a few hours alone, prompting him to ponder why and when the man's teaching method had changed. The adult Professor Snape certainly was not blessed with the same patience or creative approach as his younger counterpart. Somewhere along the line, he had lost his resolve to enlighten and inspire, opting instead to bark orders and instill fear. The reality of this fact saddened Harry, causing him to mourn the loss of the teacher he might have had, but didn't. He wanted to think more on what had happened to bring about this negative change but he was already drowning in homework and struggling to keep up with Severus.
Feeling both mentally and emotionally exhausted from a very intense and stressful day, Harry was grateful when, at one o'clock in the morning, Severus conceded that enough of their homework had been completed to call it a day. Or night, as it were.
Harry didn't need telling twice. He had just enough strength to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth. Climbing onto his four-poster and crawling under the warm covers, he fell into a deep sleep in no time. Images of gentle fingers brushing against his skin and the sensation of soft, ebony strands of hair sliding through his fingers flickered through his numb mind as he drifted off into a sound, contented slumber.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -
The next morning felt like a repeat of the day before to Harry. Once again, Severus had to rouse him from his deep sleep since he had forgotten to cast an alarm spell for the second night in a row. After enduring just a minute of Severus' chastising words and admonishing glares, Harry staggered out of bed, showering and dressing at a hurried pace so as to not irritate him further.
The one good thing about waking up late was that their other dorm mates had already left, something Harry was thankful for. During breakfast, he and Severus again sat far away from the others at the Slytherin table, Harry taking special care not to allow his gaze to wander toward the Gryffindor side of the room. After yesterday's confrontation with Caedis Avery, he was wary of any action on his part that could provoke a second face-off.
Their first class of the day was Advanced Charms. Harry was looking forward to a lesson where he was not only familiar with the material, he also knew the teacher. Professor Flitwick had been his Charms teacher for all six years of his previous Hogwarts education, and Harry was well accustomed to his style of teaching as well as his expectations from students.
Feeling at ease for the first time since beginning his seventh-year schedule, Harry entered the familiar classroom with an air of confidence lacking in yesterday's lessons. He took a seat next to Severus near the middle of the classroom and listened while Professor Flitwick greeted the class and explained that they were going to begin learning Atmospheric Charms today.
Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Severus for insisting that they read chapter twenty-six of their Advanced Charms textbook last night. It had turned out to be a wise move considering that the entire chapter dealt with Atmospheric Charms, their intricate wand movements as well as their varying incantations. He smiled to himself when he glanced over and saw the I told you so expression on Severus' face, his smirk of amusement blazing, eyes narrowed and a single eyebrow raised in mock gratification.
As tiny Professor Flitwick clambered up onto a large stack of books to demonstrate the different wand movements needed for performing a Rain Charm and a Snow Charm, Harry let his eyes roam about the room, curious as to whether his parents took Advanced Charms as well.
Lily Evans was easy enough to spot. She sat near the front of the classroom just beside the windows, her bright crimson hair dazzling in the sunlight that was streaming in. Her gaze was fixed on Professor Flitwick with rapt attention while he spoke, her wand hand raised slightly, mimicking Flitwick's every gesticulation in miniature while her lips mouthed the incantation along with him.
Seated beside her was, of course, James Potter who unlike Lily, was not paying the professor any mind. His head was turned toward the redheaded witch beside him, unabashed hazel eyes roving over her face, drinking her in while a contented smile played about his lips.
To James' left sat Sirius. Slouching in his seat with his head lowered, the brazen Gryffindor seemed far more interested in a piece of parchment he was perusing under his desk than anything going on around him. Harry leaned forward and caught a glimpse of Sirius' eyes, narrowed in concentration as they darted back and forth across the surface of the paper.
After a moment, Harry shrugged and looked around for Remus. His eyes paused at first on the boy sitting directly behind James, also wearing Gryffindor robes and sporting light brown hair and a pallid complexion, but this student was shorter than Remus and his hair was a mousier brown. The boy glanced around, revealing eyes that were brown and beady, watery in appearance. His hands twitched every now and then as they lay across the desktop, as if their owner had trouble keeping still, and his fingernails tapped against the desktop, revealing a nervous, anxious demeanor.
With a sudden leap of his heart, Harry realized he knew this boy.
This was that skittish, cowardly, duplicitous traitor, Peter Pettigrew.
A rage he hadn't felt since the moments following Sirius' murder roared to life inside Harry as he stared at the boy who would one day betray his parents and frame his godfather. Peter's treachery was the impetus precipitating the deaths of Lily and James, the reason Sirius was wrongly accused and imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve long years.
Fists clenched and pulse racing, Harry took several deep breaths as he struggled to control his accelerating fury. He should have seen this coming. He knew he would be seeing the Marauders again. Of course Peter would be among them at some point.
Harry had been so focused on the pain he would have to endure at seeing his parents again, as well as Remus and Sirius, that he had given no thought at all about the two-faced rat. Regardless of his oversight, his current harsh reality remained.
Peter Pettigrew was here right now, alive and sitting just a few feet away. Harry fought desperately to rein in his oppressive anger.
"Alright, class," Professor Flitwick called out, "Please pair up and practice both the Rain Charm, Pluvias, as well as the more difficult Snow Charm, Nix. Keep in mind the subtle wrist flick I just demonstrated. If omitted, your snow will not freeze!"
Harry stood up automatically and felt a hand grab his robe sleeve, its grip unrelenting as it pulled him to the far corner of the classroom. He permitted its urgent directive, but his grim eyes never left the traitor as he was pulled away.
"Gray… what the hell is wrong with you? You look as though you're about to kill someone!" Severus whispered, his tone hushed but insistent. The urgency in his voice prompted Harry to break his fixed glare on Peter and look into the apprehensive eyes of the boy who was gripping his arm, grounding him, preventing him from lashing out.
"Look, I detest Potter and Black as well… but you mustn't provoke…"
"It's not them!" Harry retorted through gritted teeth, his whole body shuddering as he grappled with his overpowering ire.
"Then who?"
Almost without conscious thought, Harry's eyes snapped back to Peter, who was now crouched down beside his school bag, frantically rummaging through it. Narrowed black eyes followed Harry's line of sight, finally settling on his same focal point just in time to see Peter pull his wand out from his bag, a look of relief obvious on his face.
"Pettigrew? Gray, I hardly think he's worthy of this extreme reaction… I mean… he's an ass, yes, but…"
"I hate him!" Harry managed to spit out the words with vehemence, anger beginning to bubble over as he heard the very voice which could set his wrath over its precarious edge.
"Sirius!" Peter called out, drawing nearer to Harry and Severus, "Sirius… over here! There's lots of room here… Sirius… come on!"
Desperate for distraction from his burning rage, Harry whirled around to see what was causing Peter's impatience. Sirius was still standing beside his desk, transfixed, the parchment he had been examining in secret earlier gripped in both hands. His blue eyes were wide and he was staring at a single spot on the parchment.
"What the fuck!" Sirius blurted out, "James! Get over here… look at this!"
The next few moments were a frantic blur of confusion, several things happening almost at once.
Harry watched, frozen to the spot, as Sirius strode over to James and grabbed him by the shoulder, wrenching him from his conversation with Lily. After a few choice words at being interrupted, James acquiesced to Sirius' urgency and looked down at the parchment clutched in his friend's hand.
"Holy shit!" came James' response, a similar look of shock on his face as he snatched the parchment from Sirius.
"James! Lily!" Peter yelled, "Can you please get Sirius to listen to me? I've been waiting over here for…"
At the mention of his parents' names issuing from that traitor's mouth, Harry's wavering control splintered. He pulled free from Severus' tight grip on his arm and lunged at Peter, wand raised as he charged forward.
"Gray… No!"
Harry heard Severus' dire warning, but ignored it, his overwhelming rage spurring him on, impelling him to act on his uncontrollable fury. In one swift motion, he grabbed Peter's robes and slammed him against the stone wall, a sickening crack reverberating throughout the room as the boy's head made contact with hard surface.
It was near impossible, but Harry refrained from casting a curse, opting instead to use the thin stick of wood in his hand to pin Peter in place, pushing the end of it into his neck, immobilizing him and hindering his breathing. The only sounds emitting from the incapacitated boy now were a series of strangled gasps and pained moans.
Harry's own breathing was labored and ragged, his arms trembling violently even as he held the rat animagus steady. He could hear voices yelling, feel several people grabbing onto him, clutching his robes and attempting to pull him away from Peter, but he stood his ground long enough to lean forward and whisper into the traitor's ear.
"You'll die by your own hand, Peter. You'll die in a filthy dungeon prison cell betraying your twisted master… just like you betrayed your best friends, you - you spineless, piece of filth!"
"Mr. Skye! That is enough!"
At Professor Flitwick's deafening reprimand, no doubt aided by a Sonorous Charm, Harry's arms grew limp, his vengeful adrenaline dissipating, transforming into despair and deep, aching regret. He released his hold on Peter who slumped to the ground. With his head lowered, Harry staggered backwards into Severus whose arms had come up to wrap around the front of his chest, pulling him away from Peter.
Harry allowed Severus to steer him, but his eyes remained on the boy in front of him, curled up on the floor in a fetal position, whimpering and panting for breath. Kneeling beside him were Lily and Sirius. Lily was running her fingers through the frightened boy's hair while whispering assurances, but Sirius remained motionless, a stunned look on his face as he stared at his terrified friend.
An overwhelming sense of terror engulfed Harry as he gazed down at what he had done, his body trembling and flushed with the heat of embarrassment and worry that he might have roused suspicion with his actions, putting his true identity at risk. He turned away from the disturbing scene and scanned the rest of the room. With the exception of Peter, Lily and Sirius, every other person including Professor Flitwick was staring at him, their faces twisted in either shock or disbelief.
All except one.
A solitary figure stood near the front of the classroom, apart from the gaping crowd and his fallen friend, his eyes fixed on the piece of parchment clutched in his trembling hands. His face was ashen, bloodless. His pale lips were parted, quivering, his expression blank with shock.
Harry watched in confusion as James lifted his head and turned to face him. Hazel eyes met grey just as the parchment fell from James' slackened fingers, turning over once in the air as it fluttered to the ground. Harry's eyes followed its descent, squinting to discern the elaborate script handwritten in bright green ink on the front.
His breath caught in his throat as he read the hauntingly familiar words…
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mishchief-Makers
are proud to present
THE MAURADER'S MAP
Heart hammering in his chest, mouth suddenly dry, a powerful sense of foreboding took hold of Harry as new understanding came to him.
The map never lies. This could only mean one thing.
James Potter knew who he was.
Chapter End - TBC
A/N: Whew! Another deadline met! I wasn't certain I would make it.
Look for the next chapter to be up by September 10th (fingers crossed).
Special thanks to YenGirl, for helping me fine tune this very emotional chapter! It was a tough one. :)
Please Review.