Chapter Nine -

In love's tranquil embrace

"Expecto Patronum."

The hushed incantation breached the sustained silence and resonated eerily through the dark, empty halls of Gryffindor Tower. A brilliant silver stag erupted from the Hawthorn wand, igniting the dim corridor with dazzling radiance.

After cantering once around its caster, the translucent creature approached the hand reaching out for it, eager argent eyes peering up into grey ones, awaiting direction.

"Go and wake James Potter. Tell him..."

Harry hesitated, chewing his lower lip as a sudden rush of nerves assailed him.

He had never done this before. Of course, he was aware of what the spell entailed and had seen it done a couple of times by Dumbledore and once by Arthur Weasley, but preforming new magic was always a little disconcerting. Considering the fact that he was attempting this particular variant of the Patronus Charm for the very first time while standing outside the Gryffindor common room at three in the morning in the hopes of meeting his future father, his typical new-spell jitters were more acute than usual.

Taking a deep breath to quell his unease, Harry continued with his directive.

"Tell him Gray Skye needs to speak to him outside his common room. Now. And be careful not to wake anyone else. Can you do that?" he asked the silvery guise, uncertain as to whether it even possessed the ability to express understanding.

The conjured stag responded with an affirmative nod. Abandoning its docile stance, it whirled around and leaped through the wall beside the Fat Lady's portrait as if the solid wall was a mere illusion, its lingering luminosity dissolving into a haze of fine silver mist. The action was so swift and soundless, its only ripple of consequence was the almost inaudible grunt from the Fat Lady who continued to slumber in her frame.

Left alone in the ensuing darkness, Harry took a moment to reflect on what had prompted this latest after-curfew exploit, his thoughts snapping back to those emotional minutes with Severus after their Astronomy class last night. His heart ached just remembering the immense pain and sorrow reflected in those ebony eyes as Severus told his harrowing tale. Harry's own misery deepened further when he recalled those anguished tears spilling down those pale checks as Severus broke down and wept with abandon, trembling hands clutching Harry in desperation.

The stunning revelation that he was in love with Severus only amplified Harry's fierce determination to take away some of Severus' enduring pain and loneliness. He remembered pulling the sobbing boy closer and whispering assurances until the worst of Severus' anguish had diminished and his vice-like grip on Harry's robes had eased.

Time lost all meaning in that empty classroom; the only measure of the passing minutes were their slow rhythmic breathing and the intermittent tightening of fingers clenched in fabric as they held on to one another. It wasn't until after they left their secluded sanctuary that Harry checked his watch and realized with a start that nearly an hour had elapsed since the end of their Astronomy class. All intentions for another round of late-night studying foregone, Harry spent the next twenty minutes ushering a still shaken and exhausted Severus through the narrow dungeon corridors, past the crowded Slytherin common room and into the empty seventh-year boys' dormitory.

Severus remained withdrawn the entire time, even when Harry helped him into his four-poster and pulled the thick green and silver comforter over him. Those soulful eyes, however, never once left him, expressing a multitude of intense emotions that left Harry's heart aching and his mind troubled and anxious.

Harry returned to the Slytherin common room after that, aspiring to complete his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay that was due first thing the following morning. He gave it up after fifteen minutes of staring at the blank parchment. Even the thought of Severus berating him for not finishing his assignment did not work, he simply could not concentrate with his mind so perturbed.

Deciding to finish his assignment over breakfast, Harry abandoned the packed common room and returned to his dorm, hoping to lose himself in the healing power of sleep and thus, put an end to a very confusing and emotional day. Unfortunately, his mind refused to allow him repose.

Four hours later, Harry was still wide awake and staring at his silver bed hangings, unable to quiet the whirling spinning maelstrom inside his head as that gut-wrenching conversation with Severus replayed itself without pause.

Four hours of mentally picturing Sirius' horrifying act on Severus.

Four hours of battling his escalating rage while questions spun around endlessly inside his mind, questions with no real answers.

How could Sirius have done that?!

How could he have sliced open Severus' wrists and left him there to die?!

How could his future godfather have been so vicious... so heartless... so murderous?!

After suffering through a dizzying torrent of unremitting emotions and blinding frustrations, a new question emerged in the forefront of Harry's overburdened mind, one that burned inside him with such intensity that he was compelled to seek out the answer, regardless of the lateness of the hour.

"Christ, Harry! Why the hell did your send your bloody Patronus to wake me? It's the middle of the night! The damned thing nearly scared me half to death!"

At the sound of his future father's irritated rebuke, Harry was instantly ripped from his compulsive musing. He spun around and watched as the disheveled form of James Potter clambered through the portrait hole and out into the dark hallway. His eyes having adjusted to the darkness, Harry could just make out the boy's unruly clumps of raven hair that stuck up at odd angles near the back of his head.

James' left hand reached up to flatten his hair in a practiced move, while his other hand gripped what looked like his wand, held low at his side.

"Muffliato," Harry commanded and then, "Lumos!"

The spell cast an unnatural light throughout the gloomy hallway, chasing away the encompassing dark, and both boys squinted to lessen the resulting burn. Once Harry's eyes had adjusted again, the question which had consumed his thoughts burst forth from his taut lips before he could put any thought behind it.

"Did you know?!"

"What?"

"Did you know that Sirius tried to KILL SEVERUS!" Harry raged, all semblance of self control unraveling as his volume surged to a thunderous level, teeth grinding together as he struggled to channel his fury.

"WHAT? NO! Sirius didn't try to kill Snape, whatever he might have told you! That was just a prank! I mean… no… not a prank exactly…" James answered. He sounded flustered, his eyes wide and anxious, "Look, Harry, it was stupid. Sirius wasn't thinking, alright? He saw Snape snooping around the grounds that night, trying to find out what Remus was up to, and well, he just acted on impulse. That was all. When Sirius got back to the common room and told me what he'd done, I stopped it, OK? No harm done. Professor Dumbledore even agreed… it was just… it was just really bad judgment…"

"I'm not talking about that!" Harry hissed, interrupting James' floundering explanation, "Last term… in the forest… when he ATTACKED SEVERUS AND LEFT HIM FOR DEAD!"

Immediately, James' face paled, eyes widening further, shock and confusion evident on his ashen face. After a moment, he lowered his gaze, eyes narrowing and brow furrowing in thought. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting back and forth repeatedly along the stone floor as if their owner was desperate to understand some baffling puzzle.

When James finally lifted his gaze, there was an altogether new expression on his face. Harry was unnerved by the look of utter panic and trepidation radiating from those troubled, hazel eyes.

"Are you talking about… about the end of last term?" he questioned in a hushed, hesitant timbre.

Harry nodded, his own unease escalating as James lowered his head again and let out a harsh, strained breath.

"No. No, that's not right. That was a suicide attempt. Snape…. he… he tried to kill himself. The whole school knows that," James insisted while shaking his head in firm dissent, but his quiet, shaky voice revealed ambivalence.

"A – what? That was NOT a suicide attempt!" Harry hissed, aghast at the idea of the whole school believing Severus had tried to kill himself. "Sirius attacked him! He took his knife and slashed Severus' wrists! He tried to murder…"

"NO!" James shouted, head snapping up at last, his face twisted in anger as he pierced Harry with an infuriated glare, "No. Sirius couldn't… he wouldn't... he would never…"

James stopped mid-sentence as if suddenly derailed from his determined resolve, his enraged expression changing into one of anguished surrender. He brought both hands up to cover his face, trembling fingers scrubbing across pale skin before raking through disheveled, matted hair and grasping the nape of his neck. Slowly, his head fell once more, just as a tremulous breath issued from his colorless lips.

Silence suffused the corridor; the only sounds were the uneasy breaths of both boys and the faint hum of the encompassing Muffliato spell. James' gaze remained fixed on the stone floor as he continued to take in deep, trembling breaths, his hands still curved around his neck, head lowered.

At long last, he spoke. Harry winced at the sheer misery and despair emanating from his weak, defeated tone.

"I... I didn't know. I suspected. I mean, Snape seemed so fearful of Sirius after that, and he even started to avoid Lily. He was never like that before. I tried to tell myself it was a coincidence. I... I just didn't want to believe that Sirius could take his hatred that far."

"Is that why you warned me yesterday to stay away from Sirius? You thought he might attack me like he did Severus?" Harry pressed on, determined to make sense of this disturbing truth.

"No, Harry. No. He knows you're my son. I don't think... no, I know... he would never do something like that to you. But..."

"But what, James?! Please explain this to me because I really don't understand! None of this makes any fucking sense!"

"He hates Slytherins, Harry! I don't know how much you know about the Black family, but the whole lot of them were in Slytherin. And with the exception of his cousin Andromeda, they're all Dark... more than that... they're twisted, Harry, pure evil. Sirius' mother and father were horrible to him. They ignored him, beat him, locked him up... all because he didn't believe in the family tradition of Pureblood bigotry and muggle domination. His childhood was a damned nightmare!"

"But that's no excuse for what he did!" Harry insisted, a hint of desperation to his voice now as his previous rage battled with a growing sense of empathy for Sirius. He recognized how much his future godfather's upbringing seemed to mirror his own, but that didn't excuse his horrifying behavior towards Severus.

"No. It's not," James agreed, "but Sirius just can't get past that hate. He doesn't see Slytherins as people. He just sees them like he sees his family... vicious and sadistic... as cruel as any Death Eater! And in his opinion, Snape is the worst, associating with scum like Mulciber and Avery and always trying to worm his way into Lily's life! He thinks Snape is a threat to Lily, a threat to all of us! Then you show up, Harry... my own son... and you're a Slytherin as well! You attacked Peter, and you're always hanging around with Snape! Honestly, Harry, I don't think Sirius will hurt you... not like he did Snape... but... but I had to warn you! Sometimes, I'm just not sure how far his rage will take him."

Harry took a deep breath while his brain tried to catch up with everything James had told him. He was still so angry, so frustrated, but more than anything, he was completely confused. Some of what James said did make sense. Harry could understand how Sirius could have grown to hate Slytherins considering his abusive family, but he still couldn't wrap his brain around the idea that his godfather was capable of something as extreme as attempted murder.

"God, I just don't know how Sirius could have changed so much!" Harry burst out, " I knew him in the future, OK? And he wasn't like this! He was never cruel or – or violent! He was sometimes rash and hot-headed... and he wouldn't always think things through before acting... but he wasn't a cold-blooded killer! He was caring and sympathetic and loyal. You made him my godfather, for God's sake, and I loved him! He was the only father figure I've ever kno–"

The instant Harry registered the terrible implication behind his last few impulsive words, he snapped his mouth shut and froze, bile rising in his throat where it burned like acid. With his heart pounding in shock, he clung to the impossible hope that James hadn't heard what he had said, that he was too distraught over learning the truth of Sirius' wrongdoing to have discerned the true meaning behind Harry's words.

But James had heard.

And worse... he'd understood.

The stunned expression on his future father's face gutted Harry. His heart felt as though it was being ripped out of his chest. Wishing more than anything that he could rescind his accidental disclosure, or deny the truth, he opened his mouth to try to explain... explain what, he had no idea... but nothing came out apart from an anguished, strained whimper.

James closed his eyes. He took in a sharp, forced breath and held it for a long, long moment that Harry could only measure in heartbeats of painful regret. Then those eyes snapped open and he spoke, his voice an eerie dead calm, flat and lifeless.

"Don't... don't tell me anymore. I don't want to know," he ordered.

With an impatient gesture, he passed his hands over his moist eyes and turned away from Harry, taking a few steps toward the open portrait hole where he paused. With one shaking hand gripping the side of the open frame, he turned his head to the side, just enough for Harry to make out his profile and to hear him speak in a strained whisper.

"Sirius won't harm you... or Snape. I'll take care of it. You have my word."

Harry continued to stare at him, guilt and hope crowding his throat until it was almost impossible to breathe.

James turned to look more fully at him, shoulders going back as he took a deep breath before continuing, a new strengthened resolve permeating his every word.

"I've spent the last seven years being a follower. I let Sirius' hate color my own intent. I allowed my best friend's prejudice to blur that line between what was right and what was easy. And I never spoke a word in protest against what we were doing... all the bullying... the ridiculing... the taunting... even when I knew we were going too far... even when I knew we were wrong."

Eyes glittering with passion, James shook his head as Harry stared at him, mesmerized.

"No more. That's in the past now. I'm done being influenced by Sirius' hate. Maybe... maybe it's time I influence him."

James paused here and swallowed, his eyes looking up to lock with his future son's as he continued.

"I may not be able to protect you in the future... but I... I can do so now."

Those last few words came out broken, strained with emotion, but filled with such fierce determination that Harry felt his throat close up, tears blurring his vision. He cherished every single word James uttered for their sincerity and significance, despite the knowledge of this future loss weighing his heart down. Blinking hard to clear his vision, Harry watched James turn away from him and step through the portrait hole, disappearing behind the golden frame.

Somehow, Harry made his way through the empty corridors and back to the dungeons, each autonomous step bringing him closer and closer to the heart-rending truth, the repercussions of this latest disclosure fostering a new, bittersweet understanding inside him.

This was what changed James Potter. This was the impetus for and the moment that marked his transformation from bully to hero.

His father knew he was fated to die.

o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -

The next few days could only be described as exquisite torture for Harry, his encumbered mind having to cope with an excess of stress from varying sources.

To start with, his classes were nothing short of grueling. Harry swore he had never before been burdened with so much homework. Since he and Severus had skipped their usual late-night studying session after Tuesday night's emotional incident, they both found themselves behind in their classes and had to work harder and longer hours just to catch up.

Arithmancy alone had Harry seeing red. That initial confidence he had enjoyed after their first class vanished when Professor Vector announced on Wednesday afternoon that they would be tested on their ability to construct a complex numeric chart that could divine future tragedies. Severus was quick to point out with an amused smirk on his face that Harry should be rather proficient at predicting future misfortunes, until he was fixed with a stony glower that would have put the adult Professor Snape to shame.

In addition to the onslaught of academic pressure, Harry had to deal with the nearly tangible tension in every class he attended with the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew returned to classes on Thursday which made the Transfiguration lesson that day particularly stressful, as the class was now comprised of all four Marauders plus an irate Lily whose frequent cold glares in his direction devastated Harry, each one like the stab of a knife to his heart.

Lily's glowers weren't the only looks of loathing Harry had to endure; Remus' stares were just as virulent. Harry surmised that Sirius and James had not disclosed his true identity to the werewolf, if the pure depth of fury from those enraged brown eyes were anything to go by. Peter, too, often looked in his direction during their shared classes, but his quick glances were the easiest to dismiss, being fleeting and spasmodic, his jittery movements betraying his obvious fear and apprehension.

What Harry found most shocking was Sirius' abrupt change in behavior. It was clear to Harry that James had made good on his promise to deal with Sirius. The brash Gryffindor appeared subdued and almost deflated in their classes together. On occasion, Harry would catch sight of James, who would give him an almost imperceptible nod and then look away.

Sirius, however, never looked at Harry or Severus. Not once.

Severus, it seemed, dealt with Sirius' radical shift in demeanor by ignoring the entire situation altogether. For the remainder of the week, he acted as if unaffected by the upsurge of Lily's and Remus' glares as well as the unusual absence of Sirius' vicious stares, but Harry could tell by the Slytherin's relaxed manner and fierce attentiveness in class that he was still relieved by Sirius' lack of threatening regard.

Aside from having to put up with Lily and Remus' hostile looks, Harry also had to contend with the merciless heat wave afflicting Hogwarts. The temperature over the past few days was sweltering. Professor McGonagall had mentioned in class on Thursday that this was the hottest spring on record in Scotland's history, and Harry doubted there had been one hotter even during his own lifetime. Even the cool stone walls of Hogwarts castle failed to temper the stifling summer-like heat.

As if all that weren't enough to deal with, Harry began to notice Caedis Avery giving him odd looks, both during class and when he and Severus were holed up in the corner of the Slytherin common room studying. Harry might have expected glares of hatred or even repulsion from the future Death Eater, but Avery seemed to be observing him, his intense scrutiny making Harry feel as though he were under surveillance, exasperating his already anxious state. Severus had urged Harry to ignore it, insisting that Avery's interest had simply been peaked by Harry's attack on Pettigrew and that if left alone, the boy's avid interest would abate. Harry tried to disregard those penetrating cold stares, but found the whole situation more than unnerving.

On top of the maddening amount of homework, the probing scrutiny of Caedis Avery, the furious glowers by certain enraged Gryffindors and the oppressive heat plaguing Hogwarts, Harry was tormented by his greatest distraction.

Severus Snape himself.

After the intensity of their ardent exchange during Mastery Potions and the torrent of emotions they had shared in that abandoned classroom later that same evening, Harry found it difficult to concentrate on anyone or anything else. As much as he had hated seeing Severus in so much pain Tuesday night, he could not deny how intoxicating it had felt to hold the distraught boy in his arms, feel that slender body pressed up against his, those warm, languid breaths caressing his neck, that soft, heated skin caressing his own.

Their last class on Friday was particularly challenging in that regard. After struggling through his numeric chart in Arithmancy, Professor Vector had told them all to begin reading the next two chapters in their Arithmancy textbook for the remainder of class. Harry spent the last twenty minutes trying to read the same paragraph over and over again while stealing sideways glances at Severus, watching those thin lips move in time with his reading, tongue swiping across them every few minutes. Harry could tell whenever Severus came across a rather difficult portion of the text by the way his brow would furrow and those crooked teeth would nip at the corner of his lower lip. Harry found himself mesmerized by the enticing image and by the end of the class, was almost out of breath with arousal, his skin flushed and heated.

On Friday night, Severus insisted that they continue studying, due to the fact that they were still not as caught up as he would have liked and because they would be losing precious homework time on Saturday because of Harry's upcoming detention. Harry had tried to suggest that they take their studying session down to the lake where it would be a bit more private, hoping to gain some alone time with Severus, but much to his irritation, Severus had vetoed his suggestion and told him that the common room would suffice, the glint of wily amusement in his dark eyes giving the impression that the Slytherin was up to something.

Exactly what that was did not begin to come to light until after Harry returned from his Saturday detention with Professor Flitwick. Excluding the short break for lunch, he had spent a full six hours removing every book from the tiny professor's vast personal library, dusting each shelf and book by hand, and then returning the heavy tomes to the shelves in alphabetical order by levitating them one at a time with the use of Wingardium Leviosa. By the time Harry had dragged himself back to the dungeons, he was exhausted, and felt downtrodden and spent.

It wasn't until he noticed the piece of parchment lying atop his four-poster that his mood perked up. The parchment had only a solitary word scrawled upon its surface near the very top in a meticulous, cramped handwriting that was very familiar.

Gray,

Perplexed by the seemingly unfinished letter, Harry picked it up to examine it in more detail, thinking that perhaps there was more written on the back. He nearly dropped the parchment in surprise when, the moment he touched it, more words materialized.

Gray,

Meet me in the clearing. I want to show you something.

– H.B.P.

PS: Bring your school bag with all your homework. We WILL be studying.

Harry couldn't hold back his wide grin at seeing those initials and realizing what they stood for. He was once again astonished by the acronym's ambiguous origin and elated that Severus was starting to warm up to the title that he had initially deemed ridiculous.

Feeling a giddy curiosity coursing through him and chasing away his previous exhaustion, Harry scrambled around the room getting ready. He wasn't even chastened by the fact that Severus had apparently guessed at the reason for his distracted air over the past few days, judging from the last four words in the note. After ridding himself of his dust-covered clothes, he grabbed a clean white t-shirt and khaki shorts from his trunk and dressed at top speed.

Harry made sure his school bag had the required textbooks and parchment before adding Severus' letter, both wands and his invisibility cloak. He stopped by the washroom to brush his teeth and wash his face and hands. While drying his face on one of the school hand towels, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror above the sink and cringed at the pink tinge of excitement on his flushed cheeks. In a last minute attempt to cool off, he turned the cold water on full blast and plunged his whole head under the faucet, reveling in the invigorating chill.

With his hair sodden, rivulets of cool water dripping down his neck and soaking the back of his shirt, Harry sprinted through the dungeon corridors, dodging students here and there, adrenaline surging through him. He only slowed his pace once he exited the castle and stepped out into the blazing sun, not wanting to overheat again.

As soon as he crossed the forest's perimeter, past the fringe of towering trees, the temperature dropped and the air became crisp and tranquil. Harry enjoyed the feel of the cool, tempered air on his damp skin as he continued navigating through the dense trees until at last, he reached the clearing.

Severus was sitting on the ground, reclining against the same tree he had leaned against a week ago when Harry had watched him from under his invisibility cloak. He was dressed in grey shorts and a baggy black t-shirt, bony knees drawn up enough to prop his Advanced Charms book against his thighs. He peered up over the top of the textbook as he heard Harry approach, his ebony eyes spirited and eager.

Harry watched Severus stand up and place his book inside his open school bag before slinging the strap over his shoulder. He found himself inexplicably speechless as those dark eyes pierced him with an intense, fervent look, their owner advancing towards him with slow, relaxed steps.

Severus only stopped his progression when he was mere inches from Harry, so close that his warm breaths flitted across Harry's flushed, damp skin with each exhalation. Lifting a steady hand, Severus placed it on Harry's shoulder, fingertips sweeping across the wet fabric of his t-shirt, along his heated skin, then slowly carding through the strands of drenched hair near the nape of his neck.

Harry's eyelids fluttered shut for a moment at the exquisite touch, before lifting once more, his grey orbs laden with ardor. With his heart hammering inside his chest, Harry stared into those cavernous black orbs, a rush of excitement charging through him, breath held in anticipation.

"You're wet," Severus drawled through a crooked smile, dark eyes roving over Harry's features as if drinking him in. "What did Flitwick do to you?"

"I… um… what? Nothing. I mean… I had to clean," Harry stammered, feeling nervous. Severus' fingers were still entangled in his hair, those long fingers twisting around the wet strands. Harry swallowed, his throat tight and his mouth dry.

"I… I was just hot."

"Hmm," Severus murmured, his eyes fixed on his own fingers woven in Harry's hair.

Soon, those fingers released their hold and drifted down, trailing a path along Harry's neck, across his shoulder and down the length of his arm. The featherlight touch sent shivers though Harry's body, causing the fine hairs on his arms to stand up. Slender fingers ended their journey only when they reached Harry's hand, the very tips of each gliding across Harry's calloused palm before sinking in between his own fingers, embracing them.

"Come on. Let's go."

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, Severus beckoned Harry to follow as he turned and headed toward the thickest part of the tree line. His stride was decisive and confident as he navigated along a narrow path obscured by wild, overgrown brush and gnarled tree roots protruding from the ground at odd angles. Wherever they were going, it was clear to Harry that it was someplace Severus had frequented, judging by the ease at which the Slytherin maneuvered through the dense wood without hesitation.

"Where are we going?" Harry called out, starting to feel a twinge of unease as they neared the deepest part of the forest, the sun's radiance dimming under the heavy blanket of foliage, the air becoming cooler and thinner.

Harry heard a low rumbling chuckle before Severus issued his playful response, "Where's that Gryffindor courage, Gray?"

"OK. How is it that you are so convinced that I'm actually a Gryffindor, anyway? For all you know, I could be a Hufflepuff."

Severus stopped, spun around and fixed Harry with a complacent expression, one eyebrow raised and a mischievous grin in place.

"Were you able to read the note that I left for you?" he asked.

"Yes. But what does that have to do with..."

"Then you're a Gryffindor," Severus interrupted, whirling back around and continuing his swift progression along the path.

Harry blinked and had the fleeting thought that if Severus had been wearing his school robes instead of his casual clothes, they would have billowed out behind him in a rather impressive imitation of his older self.

"I charmed that parchment," Severus threw over his shoulder, "to only reveal my handwritten message when touched by a Gryffindor."

"Why, you sneaky..."

"We're here," Severus announced, cutting off Harry's lighthearted chiding. He came to an abrupt halt and released Harry's hand, turning back around to face him.

Harry gazed at Severus with a baffled expression after scanning their surroundings. Nothing looked any different than it had the entire time they had been walking. The forest was just as dense, the trees just as menacing and dark, the overhanging branches and vines just as wild and oppressive.

"Severus, what are we doing here?" he chanced.

Severus circled around Harry so that he was standing close behind him. Placing his right hand on Harry's shoulder, he extended his left arm out in front of his face, pointing to an empty space to the right of a single, decrepit, knobbly tree in front of them. The tree looked to be older than any other in the forest, its bark splintered and chipping away, with several of its limbs split and bereft of leaves.

"That's where you'll see it," he whispered.

Harry shuddered, not realizing just how near Severus was until his faint words brushed past the sensitive skin along his neck. Harry felt his pulse race again as Severus continued to speak to him in that soft, hushed tone.

"Close your eyes."

Harry let his eyelids fall, his body trembling now as he could feel every one of Severus' hot breaths on his neck and along the shell of his ear. His own breathing grew erratic when he felt those warm lips feather across his ear, softly, barely there, as the boy issued another directive.

"Think of me. Think of me bringing you here... wanting to show this place to you. Concentrate on my wish to bring you here," he whispered. "Now. Open your eyes."

Harry did as he was told. He uttered a sharp gasp at the sight before him and took a step back, coming up against Severus.

Amid the gap between that gnarled, rotting tree and the worn path they had been traveling on, where moments ago there had been nothing but a dark patch of bushes and low-hanging branches, there was now a cobblestone path. Its stones were flat and smooth, and they were lined on either side by an unadorned wooden fence. Scores of red and yellow wildflowers poked up from the rich soil surrounding the fence, long coils of ivy wrapping round each post.

Speechless, Harry peered past the fence, wide grey eyes following the direction of the cobblestone pathway. His breath caught in his throat when he glimpsed a beautiful white stone cottage at the walkway's end just a short distance away.

It was as big as Shell Cottage and just as breathtaking, with magnificent stone walls crafted from white quartz. Each crystalline rock glistened in the sun that shone through the narrow breaks among the trees. Two wide bay windows were positioned on either side of a massive, gothic arched door, long tendrils of ivy twisting around its heavy oak frame.

"Come on. I'll show you the grounds," Severus said, grabbing Harry's hand again and pulling him along the stone path.

The insistent tug yanked Harry out of his stupor enough to finally comment on the astonishing sight.

"Severus! This... this is amazing! How did you find this place? I mean... what is this place?"

In the very front of the cottage, Harry noticed a small garden teeming with herbs, flowers and vegetables. Beyond the garden was a small pond with a rustic wooden dock that jutted out into the very center of the brilliant blue water.

When they reached the front door, Severus stopped again and turned to face Harry. He paused for a moment as if collecting his thoughts, hesitation and a hint of anxiety discernible just beyond those dark eyes.

"A few days after I was attacked, Hagrid asked me why I had been in the forest that night. When I explained that I had been searching for a safe location to keep Solus, he told me about this place. See..." Severus pointed to a small barn-like structure adjacent to the cottage. It was narrow, but lofty, with a partially open roof. It reminded Harry of a smaller version of the school Owlery.

"She spends most evenings in there. But she's not usually here during the day. I don't expect we'll see her until after sundown," he added.

"So, who built this place? How did Hagrid know about it? I mean... I've been in the Forbidden Forest countless times and I've never seen this place!"

"It was built and maintained by the Hogwarts Gamekeeper that preceded Hagrid. His name was Ogg. Apparently, Hagrid is quite unusual in his desire to be housed outside of the forest. For centuries, the Gamekeeper of Hogwarts has always resided somewhere within the forest. Ogg, it seems, was a rather skilled wizard, as this place has several complex repelling charms and protective spells surrounding it. It can only be seen by those who are deliberately brought here by someone who already knows of its existence."

"Like the Fidelius Charm?" Harry asked, remembering when he had been shown Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for the first time by certain members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Yes, it's very similar, but not nearly as dire. There is no 'secret keeper' exactly. The spell simply reads intent. No one, other than those who are intended to, can lay eyes upon it. The repelling charms extend beyond Wizards and Muggles. That pond is a tributary of the Black Lake, but merpeople and grindylows are incapable navigating to these waters. Actually, all aggressive beasts are unable to access this location. The only creatures who roam freely through these grounds are thestrals and unicorns."

"Wow. So, can I always get in... now that you've shown it to me?" Harry asked, fascinated by the depth of magic.

"Yes, now that I have granted you access, you will always be permitted to pass through the magicked barrier. You must only think of me as you approach the aged oak, and it will appear before you just as it did today," Severus explained.

"Who else knows about this place, I mean besides you, me and Hagrid?"

Severus stared at him, consternation flashing across his features before he looked down.

"No one," he answered. "I... I haven't told anyone else about it..."

Harry could have hit himself as he studied the boy's sudden nervous demeanor, belated understanding coming to him. Severus considered this place his safe haven, his home away from the bullying taunts and violence inflicted on him by his enemies, away from the snide remarks of his fellow Slytherins who considered him nothing but a blood-traitor, away from the pain inflicted by his abusive father and away from all the injustices.

Away from everything that wasn't good.

And yet, he had allowed Harry into this haven. He had chosen to bring him into his own, private sanctuary.

Harry took another quick look around the grounds, taking notice of the Muggle gardening tools resting against the fence and the cauldrons that were set upside down in a row along the front stoop, a towel underneath them as if they had been put there to dry. He studied the plants in the garden, recognizing many as being used in potion-making.

The place was lived in and loved. It was Severus' home, his heart, his center, his safe place, his everything and he wanted to share it with Harry.

"Thank you, Severus," Harry whispered, fully aware of the tears building at the corners of his eyes, but not caring to hide them. "Thank you so much... for showing me this place... for trusting me... It means so much to me."

Severus' tenebrous gaze remained fixed on the cobblestones under his feet, but he nodded, squeezing Harry's hand and sweeping his thumb along the edge of his scar in a practiced move.

"So," he said after a while, breaking the easy silence between them and lifting his head at last. "Ready to study?"

o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -

Not keen on plunging straight back into their studies, Harry convinced Severus to first give him a detailed tour of the cottage and the grounds.

The cottage interior was laid out as one large room, much like a studio apartment. There were no walls separating the small, basic kitchen, the sitting area with its two well-worn leather chairs positioned opposite a couch covered in dark brown wool and the solitary bedroom which contained a plain wooden nightstand alongside a large bed topped with a plush beige comforter.

At the very heart of the open space was an enormous square hearth that stretched up to the ceiling, all four sides made from the same quartz stones as the outside walls of the cottage. Each side of the hearth had an arched opening cut into the base of the stone facade so that the heat from its girded flames could permeate throughout the entire room.

Near the hearth stood three wooden perches for birds to roost. Severus explained that Ogg had housed several birds during his time, and in fact, had adapted the protective charms surrounding the place to permit all species of magical birds to come and go as they please. Severus had even caught a fleeting glimpse of Fawkes near the garden one afternoon.

Beside the small kitchen was a long table which had been fashioned into a small Potions Lab. There were two brass cauldrons on the table and several glass jars filled with various common potion ingredients lined up in neat rows. Severus explained that this was where he brewed Spera's nutritive potion every Saturday, as well as where he'd developed many of his other experimental potions.

Harry adored the cottage, but he much preferred the outside grounds. The garden, which Severus was responsible for planting and maintaining, was absolutely beautiful. It was full and lavish, brimming with all sorts of exotic herbs and unusual flowers. The side that housed the rows of vegetables were neat and meticulously organized, but the other half was wilder, almost untamed with its tangled vines twisting around the perimeter posts and its lofty flowers towering high above the other plants, as if recalcitrant in their growth.

Of all the things that captivated Harry about the grounds, however, none was more alluring than that pond whose waters drew from the Black Lake. Maybe it was part of the magic of the cottage or the simple fact that the reservoir was so much smaller, but the water was the most vibrant shade of aquamarine that he had ever seen. Its surface sparkled, as reflections from the blazing afternoon sun flickered and bounced off its vitreous facade, making Harry yearn to sit on the edge of the dock and dip his feet into the cool water.

Severus, however, insisted on a work first, play later schedule. They spent the next three hours in the cottage sitting room, finishing their homework and reading ahead in all their books in preparation for next week. Their only break came at six o'clock when their hunger pangs prompted them to move to the small table in the kitchen area where they spent the next half hour reading while consuming several roast beef sandwiches that Severus had packed for them and an entire pot of tea.

Finally, Severus looked up over the top of his Advanced Potion-Making book and posed the question Harry had been hoping to hear all afternoon.

"Do you want to go outside and sit on the dock for a while? I suppose we've studied enough."

"Yes! Yes, let's go!" Harry answered with feverish haste. He bounded off his chair and, as if afraid Severus would change his mind, snatched his book out of his hands and tossed it onto the table. Seizing the other boy's hand, Harry pulled him to a standing position and made for the door, towing a chuckling Severus behind him.

As soon as they stepped outside, it was apparent the weather had undergone a significant change. Despite the setting sun's lingering radiance just visible in evanescent flashes amid the dense trees, a thick layer of low clouds had formed in the east, blanketing the atmosphere and binding the day's heat to the earth.

The air was now muggy and oppressive, every intake of breath an arduous task, as if the moisture-laden air leached their energy with each labored gasp.

The billowing mass of low clouds roiled and churned as it chased the preceding wind, each tinged with hues of deep indigo and fuchsia, undulant shadows from the sun's waning light. The sight was stunning, and Harry could not help but stare up at the turbulent view as he and Severus drew nearer to the dock.

"There's a storm approaching," Severus remarked. He too was staring up at the swirling clouds overhead, watching their volatile movements.

"Yeah… but not yet," Harry responded, a devilish grin lighting up his face. He dropped Severus' hand, paused for a moment to consider the rather bold idea circulating around his brain and then gave in to his instinct, allowing that Gryffindor courage Severus had teased him about earlier to take control.

Harry kept his eyes locked with Severus' while he toed off his trainers and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt with both hands, pulling it over his head in one quick motion. With his shirt still dangling from his clenched fist, he searched Severus' face, hoping the other boy wasn't put off by his sudden daring.

The brief look of shock in those dark orbs was soon replaced by one of charged interest as they feasted on Harry, roving over the newly exposed skin of his chest and stomach, pausing for just a moment to gaze at the feather pendant hanging from the silver chain around his neck.

Harry felt his insides squirm, nervousness and excitement pooling in the pit of his stomach as he held his breath and waited for some response from Severus. Heat coursed through him as those wandering eyes finally snapped up to meet his again.

"Hot again?" Severus drawled, his voice low and husky with what seemed like desire.

Harry's brain felt foggy, his whole body quivering from the inside out.

"Yes," he confessed.

They stared at each other, silently acknowledging the welcome return of that attraction between them, the soft sounds of their timorous, shallow breaths permeating the air. Then Harry gave Severus a nervous smile and dropped the shirt he had been clutching. With an effort, he turned towards the pond and taking a deep breath, dove into the tranquil, inviting water.

The instant he plunged into the cool depths of the pond, Harry felt his muscles relax. The searing heat that had been surging through him diminished and his racing heart started to slow its feverish pace. He reveled in the sensation of the brisk waves rushing past his skin as he propelled himself further through the shallow waters. After halting his propulsion, he dug his toes into the fine silt lining the bottom of the pond, then spun around and pushed himself back toward the dock.

Needing to breathe, Harry emerged from the water just shy of his destination. He ran his fingers through his soaked hair and took in a huge gulp of the sweltering air. After blinking several times to shake off the residual water drops from his lashes, he peered up, intending to convince Severus to join him.

To his surprise, the dock was deserted.

Worried that he had gone too far and scared Severus off with the impulsive removal of his t-shirt, Harry started wading through the water which just came up to the middle of his chest, toward the small ladder that hung off the side of the dock to find him.

"Looking for someone?" a soft voice purred in his ear.

Harry froze where he stood, desire rising in him as warm breath grazed the sensitive skin along the side of his neck. Water dripped from Severus' sodden ebony locks onto Harry's shoulder, trickling down his back and making him shudder. His heart sped up again as Severus edged even closer to him and placed a warm, wet hand on his shoulder, soft fingertips spreading those cool drops across his skin. Another strong wave of desire flooded him, taking over his senses, clouding his thoughts. He tried to focus on breathing normally as those slender fingers tightened their hold on his shoulder, urging Harry to turn around.

Conceding to the subtle persuasion, Harry turned to face Severus. His eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of that soaking wet t-shirt clinging to that lean body. He swallowed past the lump his throat, a sudden apprehension gripping him upon realizing that Severus had kept his shirt on before plunging into the water, thinking that perhaps he had been too bold in removing his own. His anxiety dissolved the instant that warm hand on his shoulder drifted down and those soft fingertips skimmed across his bare chest. The feathery touches inflamed his already burning desire and a quiet moan escaped him.

Harry's whole body quivered as Severus continued to touch him. He closed his eyes and focused all his attention on the intoxicating feel of those caressing fingers gliding across his collarbone. Their unhurried exploration ceased for a brief moment as they closed around the feather pendant and pulled it aside. Harry gasped when he felt the addition of more fingers ghosting over the marred skin at the very center of his chest, tracing the outline of the scar left behind by the horcrux locket. Another sense of deja vu assailed him at the familiar caress, the memory of the adult Professor Snape touching him the same way prompting a new surge of emotion that only seemed to add to his feverish state.

Opening his eyes at last, Harry lifted his gaze, seeking out those impassioned eyes. Severus was still examining Harry's scar, his brow furrowed, confusion and concern emanating from his narrowed eyes. In a practiced nervous gesture, he worried his bottom lip as he scanned the abused flesh, that soft lip vanishing, caught between those uneven teeth.

The enticing sight drew another hushed moan from Harry's lips, his body reacting to the stimulus. A part of him wanted to withdraw from Severus, certain his arousal would soon be noticed despite the water encompassing them. But when those dark eyes snapped back up to lock with his own, Harry couldn't hold back his overwhelming desire any longer.

He raised a trembling hand and drew it across Severus' cheek and then further back, threading his fingers through the dripping, black hair and tightening his grip. Tugging lightly, he pulled Severus closer to him.

In an instant, the hand that had been clutching the pendant feather encircled his neck, those elegant fingers carding through his own brown locks. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest as he felt Severus' other hand move up to his face, brushing across the line of his jaw, then traveling down to his chin. When an inquisitive thumb swept across his lower lip, just as it had in the Shrieking Shack, he was completely undone.

He closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to calm his racing heart and the strong excitement and emotion stirring inside him. He had never been more aroused in his life and he could not stop himself from shaking. His need to be closer to Severus, to press his lips against those enticing thin ones was so intense and yet he was afraid. Squeezing his eyes shut tighter, he tried to gather his thoughts, to make sense of what was happening.

"Look at me," Severus whispered.

Harry's heart nearly stopped upon hearing those familiar words, bringing back that gut-wrenching moment only a week ago in the Shrieking Shack when those exact same words had escaped the same pair of lips, twenty years in the future.

Harry submitted to the command now just as he had then, opening his eyes and locking his gaze with Severus. In an instant, the disturbing memory faded and Harry lost himself in those dark, passionate eyes.

Time seemed to slow down as Severus rested his forehead against Harry's, their swift exhalations mingling between them. Then, with a tiny shifting of his head, he brushed his thin lips across the corner of Harry's mouth.

With a moan caught in his throat, Harry shuddered and turned towards Severus, allowing the boy to have more of him, offering his mouth with lips already parted. His whole being pulsed with longing when he felt Severus' lips press against his at long last, every hot surge of sensual breath the boy exhaled flooding his mouth, ensnaring his desire and heightening his arousal.

When Severus moaned into his mouth, Harry thrilled at the almost guttural sound. He tightened his grip around Severus' neck to pull him closer. Closing his lips around Severus' quivering lower lip, he captured it and made it his hostage, nipping at it with his teeth and then sucking on it to relieve the sting.

The moment Harry opened his mouth to taste more of Severus, a warm and eager tongue swiped across his upper lip. Breath hitching at the unexpected caress, he nearly whimpered as ripples of exquisite pleasure rushed through him. The needy sound seemed to be the permission Severus was waiting for; he engulfed Harry's mouth with his own, that eager tongue now strong and insistent as it explored Harry's mouth with abandon.

Never had Harry felt anything like this as he clung to Severus' shoulders. He had kissed before, yes, but those kisses had never been more than a physical act; lips and tongues and heated breath. This... this was deep, desperate, passionate. This kiss was slow and sensual, yet intense and fiery, with eager tongues and caressing lips and heavy labored breaths. Every movement filled with desire and emotion, every moan laden with yearning and want.

The feel of those warm lips as they captured his mouth and that strong tongue sliding alongside his own seemed to tear at something deep and raw inside Harry, penetrating his heart and soul, evoking a rapturous hunger and longing he had never experienced before.

Severus' hands, still woven in Harry's hair, released their tight grip and traveled down, fingers gliding along the bare skin of Harry's upper back, then plunging into the cool water and settling on the small of his back. They wrapped around Harry's waist and pulled him closer in a tight embrace.

Harry's breath caught in his throat at a low growl issuing from Severus and caught again as he felt the boy's aroused body against his own, the intimate embrace causing jolts of pleasure to race through his trembling limbs.

A distant part of Harry's mind was expecting him to recoil or at least move away from this new, forbidden stimulation, but he couldn't deny how good it felt, how much it excited him and how intense his need was becoming.

Head spinning from lack of oxygen, Harry finally ended their heated kiss and opened his eyes, pulling back just in time to see Severus' eyes blink open. The passion in those dark orbs nearly took his breath away. He couldn't look away, he didn't want to.

A drop of rain fell onto Severus' cheekbone, wandering languidly down the heated skin before falling into the cool water.

It was ignored, as were the next few drops that splashed into the surrounding pond.

They stood motionless, staring at one another, breathing in each other's breaths with their bodies crushed together while the rain came down in earnest, plummeting from the dark skies in a steady downpour that pelted their already soaked hair and skin.

Then something in Severus' emotive eyes shifted and sharpened. He tightened his grip around Harry's waist, obsidian eyes never leaving grey ones as he pushed forward again, rocking his hips and thrusting his hard length against Harry's.

"Oh God... Sev–... Ohhh..." was all Harry could manage as his knees almost buckled at the stimulation. He tightened his arms around Severus' neck, pleasure pulsing through his body in thick relentless waves.

Severus pressed his lips to Harry's again and held them there. He breathed out a single word in a rush of hot, heady breath against Harry's trembling mouth.

"More?"

Mind reeling at what 'more' might mean, but knowing without a doubt he wanted to find out, Harry swallowed hard past the tightness in his throat and uttered just one word in reply.

"Y-yes..."

Chapter End - TBC

A/N: Thanks to all of you who have reviewed since my last update and those of you who have made this story a favorite. I really appreciate your continued support. Special thanks to YenGirl, as always, for her tireless Beta efforts in making this story better. :)

I'm hoping to post the next chapter by the end of the month, probably by October 29th or so. Stay tuned, it's only going to get more intense from this point on!

Please Review.