Chapter Eleven -
Deeply, your love flows through me
Forever.
That one word echoed again and again inside Harry's encumbered mind, its meaning strangely amplified among the droves of vertiginous thoughts and emotions battling for his attention.
At first, Harry had trouble deciphering why it had flustered him to such an extent. Hagrid's use of the word had been commonplace, easy enough to understand. The everyday term had only been spoken as a means of description, its application straightforward within its comprehensive context. Hagrid had simply meant to impress upon him and Severus the significance and longevity of the polaroid photograph; to emphasize the fact that this moment would live on within its glossy surface for a lifetime or longer.
Yet somehow, despite its ordinary usage, that single word had thrown Harry, confounded him, prompting a resident anxiety within him to flourish.
Forever.
Once more, Harry gazed down upon the photograph still gripped in Severus' hand. The last time he had seen this photo, a mere week ago, it was washed out and faded, its surface dull and cracked with two of its corners peeling away and a small rip near the very bottom. It was a pale, damaged imitation of its original form, senescent from years of handling and exposure to the light. Now, as he stared at the image's crisp lines and bright, vivid colors, so sharp in contrast and clarity, Harry found himself unable to deny the variance, nor its significance. His throat tightened and his heartbeat raced as he considered this simple photograph, this small verification of love lost over time. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to still his shaking hands and calm his pounding heart as an abstract insight bloomed and festered inside his already fraught mind, enkindling a kind of tragic understanding.
Only twice in Harry's lifetime would he gaze upon this photo: the first time was twenty years from now while rifling through the pages of a Dark Arts book, the photograph washed out and discolored, and the second was now with its image new and unblemished.
In contrast, Severus would hold onto it throughout the years, cherishing it during the interim, for all those moments existing between now and then. He would witness the photo's slow transformation from vivid to faded, feel the memory encapsulated within become dimmer and more distant with each passing year. As days dissolved into weeks and months into years, Severus would gaze upon this photograph over and over again as the image gradually degraded, the beautiful moment snared within its surface subject to the cruel, rigid passing of time.
Twenty years of time.
Twenty years of forever... Severus' forever.
This was why Hagrid's seemingly inconsequential comment felt more like a knife to Harry's chest than a cheerful, endearing remark and why his heart suddenly ached with constricting despair. The agonizing truth engendered by that one benign word was too hard to ignore, too blatant to disregard, and Harry swallowed hard past the lump in his throat as he permitted this painful insight further reflection.
Forever.
The harsh truth of the matter was that his forever and Severus' forever were not the same, and they never would be. They were following two different passages through time that had somehow managed to flex and curve, intersecting briefly, exquisitely, yet were destined to diverge. His time with Severus within this reality would soon come to an end. Their paths would separate; the bend would straighten and the finite magic that had allowed this twist of time would return him to his own time. His own forever. Without Severus.
No, not without Severus, Harry reminded himself, willing his stricken mind to believe it. He closed his eyes to lessen the sting as new moisture formed at the corners. Driving the heels of his hands into his lids, Harry swiped the tears away with angry, forceful movements while desperately trying to suppress his fearful thoughts.
No. Severus will be there when I return, and he will survive. He will. That's why I'm here. I have to believe that... I have to...
"An' here comes the rest o' the herd. Look!"
Hagrid's zealous announcement prompted Harry to halt his distressing introspection. He opened his eyes in time to see several thestrals emerge from the thicket, their wings spread wide and their skeletal heads rearing.
The largest among them, a male, shoved past the others, his movements aggressive and urgent as he pushed his way to the very front of the group. His pitch-black eyes were narrowed in what could only be described as a display of intimidation, and as he approached the center of the clearing, his long, thin neck lowered and his features distorted in a truculent glower, he fixed his intense gaze on Severus.
"Sev'rus," Hagrid said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, but his tone insistent, "Let the foal go now. He needs ter be with his own kind. Tha' big one's his father. He'll take care o' 'im."
Severus' jaw tightened, and he swallowed, his beaming smile foregone. Pulling the baby closer to his chest, he dipped his head so that one of his cheeks grazed the soft fuzz sticking up at the top of the foal's tiny head. Ebony eyes disappeared for a moment beneath their lids as he continued to hold the creature, swift moisture gathering at the corners of those anguished eyes once more.
"Sev'rus..."
Again, Hagrid's whispered prompting had no affect. Severus only squeezed his eyes tighter and lowered his head another inch, his hair falling on either side of his face, hiding it from view.
A high-pitched bray fractured the strained quietude as the annoyed thestral reared up on his hind legs, his front ones swiping at the air before landing forcefully on the ground. He snorted and shook his head in clear agitation, his hooves raking through the dirt and leaving behind long, deep trenches while his enormous wings stretched out on either side, exerting his aggression.
Fearing the possible ramifications of ignoring an irate and rather impatient thestral, Harry placed his hands on Severus' forearm and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
"Let him go, Severus. You'll see him again. You will. But he has to go now."
Once again, Harry's own words struck something painful and raw inside him, the dual implication behind them an unpleasant reminder of his own impending departure. The tragic parallel hung in the air, mingling with the uneasy stillness like a somber presage of what was to come. With enormous effort, Harry ignored the painful allegory, forcing himself to concentrate on Severus' current plight.
Severus seemed to have been reached by Harry's encouragement. He lifted his head, his dark gaze locking with the fierce, penetrating eyes of the massive beast. After a long, protracted moment with the air profuse with mounting tension, Severus loosened his grip on the baby and slowly lowered him to the ground.
The father thestral gave another loud, harsh cry as he took a few steps nearer. The instant he was close enough to touch the newborn foal, his abrupt, aggressive manner changed. Lowering his bony head, he nuzzled the baby's head and neck with slow, gentle caresses, then stuck his snout under the foal's belly, nudging and prodding, coaxing the small creature to put weight onto his shaky legs.
The foal obeyed the insistent urging. With his thin, lanky limbs trembling beneath him, he pushed up onto their wobbly support. Inexperienced and woefully unbalanced, the foal swayed where he stood, anxious whimpers and bleats issuing from his little snout.
With slow, patient movements, the father moved even closer, scraping one hoof across the damp earth until his long, tapered front leg rested alongside the foal, supporting him. Parent and child remained like that for several minutes before the foal, in an unexpected spurt of energy and confidence, pushed off from his father's bracing support and began to walk with quivering limbs toward the other thestrals, his head jouncing as he mewled and chirped.
Averting his focus away from the spirited newborn, the large thestral once again leveled his piercing gaze upon Severus. With a sudden terse shake of his slender head and a low, guttural sound issuing from deep in his throat, he pivoted, turning back toward the rest of the herd and following them out of the clearing and back into the dark, wild forest.
Harry placed one hand on top of Severus' and the other around his shoulders, pulling him close. As he wrapped his fingers around the boy's hand, he leaned in and whispered into his ear once more, not even chagrined by the fact that Hagrid was witnessing their tender exchange.
"Come on. Let's go back."
With surprising pliancy, Severus yielded to his prompting, allowing Harry to pull him to his feet, his head still lowered and a heartbreaking, empty expression on his face.
Their fingers laced and Harry felt Severus squeeze his hand, his thumb sweeping across the edge of Harry's scar in a habitual move. Turning away from the sight of their entwined fingers, Harry settled his gaze on the third occupant of the glade, just as the half-giant addressed him.
"Gray? Yeh'll take care o' 'im?" Hagrid asked, his eyes sparkling with the lingering vestiges of spent tears.
"Yeah, I will. I promise."
With a swift nod, Hagrid turned from the pair and headed for the forest's edge.
The instant he vanished amid the dense trees, Harry pulled Severus into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around the boy's back, drawing him close. Severus requited the gesture at once, his own arms encircling Harry and his head coming to rest on his shoulder.
After a long, quiet moment, Harry withdrew just far enough to look deeply into those soulful, wounded eyes, their shadowy depths revealing a profusion of fresh pain born from this latest loss. The sight made his heart ache.
Moving closer, Harry placed the palms of his hands on Severus' tear-tracked cheeks, the very tips of his fingers disappearing among the dark locks. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to those soft, thin ones, imparting an unhurried, deliberate kiss, hoping his tender touch would be enough to lessen Severus' pain. He wanted so much to take away his love's suffering, all of his suffering; not just his current anguish over losing Spera, but the inevitable heartbreak that was to come.
Dumbledore had told Harry to follow his heart. The elderly wizard's advice was passed on as a possible means to save Severus' life, but not his heart. This venture through time might result in Severus surviving Nagini's attack, but how could Harry safeguard his emotional perseverance? Was there something he could do or say to lessen the boy's imminent pain? To diminish the acute sorrow he was almost certain to endure through the long years spent in emotional solitude?
His disturbing thoughts and desperate questions were soon interrupted as his kiss was returned with astonishing gentleness. One of Severus' hands lingered on Harry's lower back while the other came to rest at the nape of his neck, long fingers weaving through strands of mahogany hair as their owner deepened the emotional kiss.
Harry felt his heartache temper as those soft lips moved against his. Each warm, quavering breath grazing his lips seemed to dull his anxiety, each light caress of those fingertips on his skin eliminating more of his crippling dread. Every distressing thought about his finite time within this reality and his anxiety over Severus' future pain seemed to dissolve, washed away by a whirlwind of blissful emotion that suddenly felt strong enough to surmount any hindrance... overcome any anguish... withstand any expanse of time...
As their impassioned kiss ended, grey eyes emerged to lock with ebony ones once more. Another silent moment ensued while they gazed at one another, a thousand beautiful thoughts and emotions passing between them without voice, through a single fathomless look.
Not a word was spoken as Harry reached down and grasped Severus' hand, but when he turned toward the thickest patch of trees and began to lead them back through the forest, one particular word made a re-appearance inside Harry's mind.
Forever.
This time, he accepted its emergence, welcoming its deep, limitless implications and profound significance with fervor as he permitted its meaning to relate to one specific application.
Love.
Regardless of what was to come, his love for Severus would last forever...
Faded polaroid photographs and time regression spells be damned.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -
Despite only knowing of the cottage's existence for fewer than twenty-four hours, Harry found returning to its safe, warm environment a welcome relief, especially after their rather pendular morning. Perhaps it was the fact that it was the place Severus called home, or maybe it was because there were no jeering classmates around. Regardless of the reason, Harry felt more at ease and comforted within its four walls than almost anywhere else.
He was certain this was true for Severus as well. The moment they entered the sitting room, the emotionally drained boy collapsed onto the couch, exhaled a harsh breath, then closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the worn cushions.
Harry followed suit. After taking the seat right beside Severus, he held in an anxious breath and waited, convinced the other boy would want to talk about what had just occurred. Losing Spera and handing her baby over to the father thestral had hurt Severus, and Harry wanted to do anything he could to comfort him.
Instead of giving his pain a voice, however, Severus merely turned his head, fixed Harry with an desolate expression, then turned back to his previous position, dark eyes disappearing under their lids once again.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Harry lowered his gaze to Severus' right hand, grey eyes falling upon the polaroid still clutched within its firm grasp. He was sure Severus was oblivious to its presence. He had not so much as glanced down at it since leaving the clearing.
"Severus?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Severus interjected in a hushed, broken tone. "I just want to... can we just talk about something else? Do something else?"
"OK. Homework?" Harry proposed with reluctance. Secretly, he hoped Severus would decline that particular suggestion. He was not in an academic mood by any stretch of the imagination.
Grateful for Severus' quick, negatory head shake and resolved grimace, Harry tried again.
"Well, are you hungry? We could eat breakfast."
"I don't want to go back to the castle... not yet. I am in no mood to experience our housemates' disdainful, self-righteous modus. Whatever hunger I am currently feeling would most certainly vanish under their haughty sneers."
"OK. Well, I suppose we could... "
Harry was just about to suggest skipping breakfast altogether, but stopped to ponder their situation further. Like Severus, he wasn't too keen on sitting at the Slytherin table after what they had just been through, but he had to admit to being pretty hungry. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to see if there was any food in the kitchen. At the very least, he knew there was tea there as Severus had made them a pot just last night.
Deciding to investigate further, Harry got up from the couch and entered the modest kitchen, hoping to find something that would suffice as a viable breakfast. When he opened the refrigerator door, his hopes were dashed. The shelves were bare but for two boxes: one labeled Miscellaneous Potion Ingredients and the other labeled For Spera.
Sighing, Harry pulled out Spera's box and peered inside, recognizing almost immediately that it consisted of those items needed to make her gestative nutritional potion. There were several bunches of kale and alfalfa sprouts, a container of what looked like seaweed, and a small jar labeled soy, all of which Harry was not about to consume for breakfast unless he was very near starvation.
After removing those ingredients from the box to have a clearer view of what remained, Harry noticed a full carton of eggs. Smiling to himself at finally locating something worth eating, he next pulled out the second box from the refrigerator and looked inside, his grin widening in an instant.
Miscellaneous Potion Ingredients! Seriously, Severus?
The box consisted of a lush variety of vegetables, no doubt from Severus' own garden. There were many different kinds of peppers and root vegetables, potatoes, bulbs of garlic and several small onions. In addition to the vegetables, there were a number of different varieties of fresh herbs: parsley, chives, lovage, thyme, sage, coriander and peppermint, all wrapped individually in neatly labeled bags, right beside a small container of dried tea leaves.
After a thorough foraging of the kitchen's cabinets and drawers, Harry located the remaining items he needed: two frying pans, a large wooden spoon, a sharp knife, a bottle of olive oil and a jar of sea salt. The last two items were found under the kitchen sink in a box labeled Trigger Potion Ingredients. Harry had no clue how salt and oil could possibly be used in a potion or even what a Trigger Potion was, but he was thrilled to have what he needed to make an omelet.
For the next fifteen minutes, Harry set to work, finding an easy, familiar rhythm in the chopping of peppers, onions and garlic and the peeling and slicing of potatoes. He was well-practiced at preparing breakfast, having done it countless times at the Dursleys. His Aunt Petunia would never permit him to cook the family dinners, probably because she didn't trust him with the more expensive ingredients, but he was always expected to make breakfast and sometimes lunch. Most times, he was not able to reap the benefits of his cooking. Petunia rarely, if ever, allowed him to partake in the family meals, opting instead to throw a slice of bread and a hunk of cheese his way and usher him off to his bedroom, or cupboard, in those early years. Regardless, Harry was happy to have gained the skills needed to create a half-decent breakfast and was eager to do something nice for Severus.
Harry wasn't certain when Severus had entered the kitchen, so engrossed in his endeavor, but after dishing out the sauteed chive potatoes onto two plates beside two vegetable omelets, he turned to find the Slytherin already sitting at the table, a look of sheer incredulity on his face.
"Where did you get...? I mean, how...?"
Snickering at Severus' uncharacteristic befuddlement, Harry sat down beside him and handed him a fork.
"Honestly, Severus. 'Miscellaneous Potion Ingredients'? Most people would classify those items as food!"
"Yes, well. Perhaps. Though I suppose that all depends on your specific requisites at any given time."
Harry chuckled once again, amused by Severus' witty rejoinder, as well as the tinge of pink emerging high on the boy's cheekbones. Despite Severus' quick reply, It was obvious that Harry had succeeded in catching him off-guard by his playful teasing.
Averting his gaze from Harry, no doubt in an attempt to conceal his blush, Severus focused his attention on the steaming breakfast on his plate. He cut off a large piece of the omelet with his fork, placed it in his mouth, then immediately closed his eyes as he chewed the bite, smiling more with each passing second.
"Is it good?" Harry asked, trying hard not to sound too anxious for praise.
He knew Severus' answer would be complimentary, judging from the boy's rapturous expression, but Harry was still eager to hear his opinion. He had never cooked for anyone but the Dursleys before, and they weren't exactly big on giving accolades.
"This is... amazing," Severus whispered, his voice soft, almost sultry.
That unexpected sensual tone sent Harry's eyebrows up, his mind immediately flashing back to last night when Severus had whispered huskily into his ear while in the throes of passion. Embarrassed by the odd correlation and by the sudden surge of heat flaring in his own cheeks now, Harry turned his regard to his plate of food, shoveling potatoes into his mouth to keep his mind off that silky voice.
They ate in enjoyable silence after that. Harry had to admit that the food was quite tasty, but found even more pleasure in watching Severus devour each bite, a look of elation on his face. He had never seen Severus enjoy food this much before, not even the excellent dishes at school.
When they finished their meal, Severus pushed his plate aside then grabbed Harry's hand, his dark, fervent eyes alight with intrigue.
"Where," he drawled, his lips curving into his usual crooked simper, "did you learn to do that?"
"To do what? Cook?"
"No. Not just cook, cook like that! That was exquisite!"
"Severus, it was just... you know... eggs and herbs and vegetables. I mean, alright, I did take a chance by adding the sage. I had never worked with it before, but I figured it would go well with the eggs and garlic. Although, honestly, I'm not sure how I even knew they would work so well together since I was never really allowed to eat anything that I–"
Harry stopped his rambling the instant he realized he was dangerously close to revealing too much. He had been about to mention that his aunt and uncle never allowed him to eat the food he was forced to cook for them. Both his mandatory servitude and the fact that he was raised by someone other than his parents were truths he should not be admitting to Severus.
Harry bit his lip as he struggled to find words to explain the abrupt end to his narration. He looked up to see Severus staring at him, those dark eyes narrowed as if in contemplation.
"Your parents never let you eat what you cooked?" he asked, his tone hushed, hesitant.
"I... I..." Harry stammered, trying to explain without giving away too many details, "I just didn't grow up in a very... caring environment."
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me they forced you to cook? And you weren't even permitted to eat with them!?"
Harry swallowed hard, his anxiety escalating. He could feel his muscles tense and his skin prickle with heat, a thin sheen of perspiration forming on his forehead and the palms of his hands. He twisted them together in agitation, his heartbeat steadily increasing. It wasn't the subject matter that was so unsettling; it was Severus' obvious anger on his behalf that caused him unease.
Taking a deep breath, willing himself to calm down, Harry tried for a tempered tone as he responded.
"Severus, you said you didn't want to talk about your father. Well, I would rather not discuss my... um... childhood either."
"What else did they do to you?" Severus demanded, ignoring Harry's plea, his eyes piercing. There was a blazing, furious look to those ebony orbs that Harry had never seen before.
"Nothing! It wasn't that bad!"
"Did they beat you?"
"No. I... no."
"Gray..."
"NO! They didn't beat me! Look, it's not a big deal, Severus. Really. They just ignored me. They only ever paid attention to me when they needed me to cook or clean. OK, so they didn't let me eat very often and they locked me up a lot. But, honestly, it doesn't bother me anymore, alright? It doesn't matter!"
Severus got up from the table so fast that Harry actually flinched, nervous as to what the irate boy would do next. He was surprised to find Severus standing next to him a second later, leaning down to grab his wrists and pull him to his feet. After a brief moment where those dark eyes just gazed into Harry's, an unreadable expression to those pallid features, Severus pulled Harry into his arms.
"It does matter, Gray. It does. They never should have treated you like that! Do you hear me? You deserve so much better."
Severus' words were spoken into Harry's ear in a fervid rush, their volume no more than a whisper despite the fierce passion behind them. With one arm snug around Harry's shoulders, the other arm tight around his lower back, Severus held Harry in a strong, inescapable grip.
In spite of the constrictive nature of the hug, Harry felt his body relax. He let his forehead fall forward, resting it on Severus' shoulder as those vehement words washed over him, suddenly aware that no one had ever told him these things. Not like this... not with such impassioned conviction... never with this level of solicitous fervor.
Harry felt the inception of treacherous tears gathering in the corners of his eyes again, his breathing becoming more and more shallow as he listened to Severus' heartfelt words.
"Don't ever say it doesn't matter! Don't you dare. It does matter... because you matter, Gray! Don't you understand? You deserve to be cared for... cherished... loved."
Harry's legs felt weak, his whole body shuddering, the sudden recognition of just how much he needed to hear this blindsiding him, nearly choking him. Sixteen years of abuse and neglect and he had never been told that he was deserving of something better, that he was worthy of compassion or love. The idea that these words of comfort were so strikingly similar to Harry's own impassioned ones offered to Severus just last night did not even occur to him.
Logically, he knew the Dursleys' treatment of him was abhorrent, but somehow, the notion that he mattered enough to be treated with kindness had never truly penetrated his heart, had never reached his soul. Hearing those words now from Severus, spoken with such force and compassion, made him acutely aware of how deep this divide was between comprehension and acceptance.
Unable to hold back his emotions any longer, his heart aching and his throat burning, Harry squeezed his eyelids together, prompting those anguished tears to break free and spill down his cheeks. He let them fall, unabashed in this long overdue release of latent suffering. Clinging to Severus, he claimed this pain, owned this anger and hurt and sorrow that had been buried deep inside him for far too long, while other things took precedence over his life.
Severus held Harry while he wept, kissing his neck and cheeks until the last of his pained tears had fallen and his hurried, erratic breaths had slowed and evened out. At length, Severus pulled away and looked at him, his thumbs coming up to wipe away the remaining tears from his skin as those emotive ebony eyes gazed into watery grey ones.
Harry wanted to say something, anything, but his every attempt to speak seemed to fail, the words faltering before they could reach his quivering lips.
As if aware of his predicament, Severus offered him one more gentle kiss and an understanding smile, then voiced a surprising question.
"Gray... do you even like to cook?"
Harry swallowed as he tried to retrieve his hindered voice, then answered the unexpected question in a somewhat hoarse whisper, "Well... I like to cook for you."
"Good. That settles it then. You cook... I clean. Now go sit while I clean up this horrendous mess you've made in my kitchen," Severus commanded, a roguish smirk lighting up his thin face, one that seemed to vanquish all Harry's remaining tension.
"Then, Gray, I believe we do have some unfinished homework to do."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -
One immaculate kitchen and two completed Atmospheric Charms essays later, Harry and Severus found themselves in need of more than the small cottage could offer. Harry had commented that he could really go for a shower, part of him not able to stop himself from imagining how Severus might look naked and covered in soap. He had just begun to feel his cheeks and neck color with a fiery blush when Severus admitted that the cottage had no workable shower or bathtub, explaining that Ogg had not bothered to install one since he had preferred to bathe in the pond.
Due to the lack of adequate bathing facilities coupled with the fact that their food supplies did not lend itself to another meal – unless that meal was also a vegetarian one – they opted at last to return to the castle to bathe and eat lunch.
Upon entering the Slytherin common room, it was more than apparent that their lengthy absence had been noted. They were greeted with suspicious glares from every one of the room's occupants, not only from their fellow seventh-years, but also from a number of younger students. There were several pairs of narrowed, wary eyes darting back and forth from one of them to the other, enmity and mistrust evident in each penetrating glower.
Severus swung his school bag off his shoulder, pulled out his Transfiguration book, then spoke to Harry in a forced undertone.
"You go first. I'll stay here and study. When you return, I will take my shower. It's obvious that our continual and near constant time spent together has not been perceived favorably."
With that, he withdrew from Harry, sat down on a black leather armchair in the corner of the room and began to read his textbook.
Not wild about remaining in that unwelcome environment a moment longer than was required, Harry hurried to the dormitory, gathered what he needed for a shower then rushed off to the washroom. Fifteen minutes later, he returned to the seventh-year dorm, dripping wet and wearing only a towel. He opened his school trunk, pulled out a clean shirt, a pair of boxers and some jeans, and was just about to dress when a snide voice from behind him caused him to freeze where he stood.
"Well, well, well, Skye. I see you and Snape have finally elected to grace us with your presence."
Harry whirled around to see who had addressed him and came face to face with a smug Caedis Avery. There was a wicked gleam in his icy blue eyes and a malicious sneer playing about his smirking lips.
"Where I go and with whom is none of your business, Avery," Harry countered, his teeth grinding together in irritation.
"That may be, but Snape is my business, and you seem to be spending an awful lot of time with him."
"He is NOT your business!" Harry raged. He could feel his fury bubbling over, anger and frustration he hadn't felt since that confrontation with Peter last week beginning to seize him.
"Oh, but he is my business, Skye. He is considered to be a valuable commodity to someone very powerful... someone who has a special knack for spotting real talent... someone who does not give up easily and always gets what he wants in the end. Personally, I find Snape to be nothing but a filthy, know-it-all, blood-traitor, but he seems to believe that Snape's skill far outweighs his pesky habit of... ah... latching onto unsavory lowlifes."
Again, Harry ground his teeth, his wrath nearly overwhelming him as Avery's intentions became clear.
"He is not interested, Avery! He has no desire to be a Death Eater!"
"But he did at one point, not so long ago. Old habits die hard, Skye. There very well may come a time when Snape's allegiance may change once again. There is much he can gain by–"
"Fuck you! He's not interested! Do you hear me?" Harry spun around and grabbed his school bag, snatching the Elder wand and leveling it at Avery in one lightning-fast move. He struggled to quell his rage as he took several steps closer, the Wizarding World's most dangerous wand aimed directly at Avery's heart.
Avery made no move for his own wand, which only seemed to deepen Harry's fury more, opting instead to broaden his malicious smirk, his cold blue eyes alight with amusement.
"You're quick... and powerful," he praised, his tone light despite the looming threat of a wand being directed at him. "Your Patronus last week was quite remarkable. And I must admit to being rather impressed by your unprovoked attack on that sniveling Gryffindor shit, Pettigrew. You've got a bit of a violent streak in you, don't you, Skye? Perhaps the Dark Lord could find use for you as well."
Blinded by rage, Harry charged forward, a reckless proclivity taking him over. He pushed Avery into the wall just as he had done to Peter, his wand pressed up into the boy's neck.
"I am only violent when I'm around evil, twisted bastards like yourself, Avery. And I would NEVER join that hypocritical, power-hungry monster! Did you know that Voldemort is a half-blood? Hmmm? Did you know his real name is the same as his Muggle father? Oh no, I guess not. Lord Voldemort would never disclose the fact that he was once a skinny little half-blood orphan named Tom Riddle to his mindless drones, would he? I suppose he might lose some support if his Death Eaters were to discover what a lying sanctimonious piece of shit he really is!"
Harry withdrew from Avery, pleased to see that his verbal tirade had the desired effect. Avery's eyes were huge, his mouth slack and his skin pale, drained of all color.
"Stay the fuck away from me and Severus or I'll show you just how violent I can be!" Harry threatened.
Shaking off his countenance of shock and overt fear, Avery schooled his temporary panic, brushing his fingers through his now tousled hair and straightening his shirt. He took a deep breath, swallowed, then fixed Harry with one last venomous look before turning and making a swift exit from the dormitory.
Harry sank onto his bed, sudden weakness assailing him, his stomach twisted in knots. He glanced down at the Elder wand still clenched in a white-knuckle grip in his right hand and shuddered, not quite able to shake the ominous feeling of foreboding taking hold of him.
"Shit," he murmured, his unease multiplying with each passing second as a slow, steady trickle of fear crept into his consciousness. He really did need to control his impulsive behavior.
"Nothing good can come from this."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -
The whole next week seemed to fly by in a blur, Harry finding the days a bit more manageable now that he had become more accustomed to his classes. That was not to say the week did not pose its challenges. Harry alternated between trying to ignore the constant stream of savage glares from the seventh-year Slytherins and desperately trying to disregard Lily's somewhat curious stares. It was the exact opposite of last week with her and the Marauders gifting him with irate glowers and the Slytherins looking upon him with mild interest. Harry wasn't certain why his future mother seemed to have renounced her previous annoyance with him, but he suspected James must have had something to do with it. He, Lily, Sirius and even Remus had all but abandoned their angry glances in his direction.
For the most part, Severus handled the increased hostility from their dorm mates with relative ease, his features a mask of indifference during their classes. Harry seemed to be the only one who noticed the subtle signs to the contrary such as the tightening of the muscles lining his jaw and the slight acceleration of his breathing every time Avery directed one of his fiercer glares at them.
Harry had not told him about his confrontation with Avery, having no desire to reveal anything that would facilitate another lecture about controlling his Gryffindor tendencies.
Since his days were spent in lessons and thinking up creative ways to disregard animosity, evenings were what Harry most looked forward to. He and Severus, on those nights when they didn't have Advanced Astronomy, took advantage of the unseasonably warm spring weather by studying beside the pond on the cottage grounds, only going indoors once the emergence of dusk made reading too difficult.
Hagrid had paid them a visit early Monday evening, bringing with him his burlap sack filled with raw meat along with the suggestion that maybe the thestrals should be fed on the cottage grounds from now on instead of the clearing. The half-giant mentioned something about the cottage being a much safer place ter feed 'em since it's protected from forest predators, but Harry had the distinct impression he had only said that to ensure that Severus got to see the baby thestral more often.
Harry had to admit that Hagrid's sneaky tactic was a brilliant one. Every time the herd of thestrals emerged from the surrounding trees to consume their offered meal, the new foal would come bounding past the food and straight into Severus' awaiting arms, nuzzling the boy's neck and giving his face exuberant licks in greeting.
Harry had teased Severus endlessly about it, telling him that perhaps he preferred the foal's affections to his own. Most times, Harry's playful chiding only resulted in an exasperated glare from the other boy, but on Wednesday evening it had inspired Severus to instigate a somewhat retaliatory make-out session after the last thestral had left the grounds, one that swiftly drove Harry to a state of mind-numbing bliss.
Ten glorious minutes of mind-numbing bliss, of Severus pressing hungry, wet kisses down the length of Harry's neck, and then lower, along his collarbone with the neckband of his shirt stretched and pulled roughly aside. After forcefully pushing their textbooks and homework out of the way, Severus had pressed him to the ground, leaning over him, his erection digging into Harry's hip. That hot, eager mouth had wasted no time latching onto Harry's neck again, his tongue giving long licks up and down while the very tip of his tongue flicked and teased that sensitive spot just below his ear, driving Harry mad with desire. Harry's arousal had increased even more when he felt a hand creep under the waistband of his trousers, those long fingers slipping beneath his boxer shorts.
Those ten minutes would have undoubtedly led to more, had it not been for the damned rain. Of course, just like last time, the arrival of inclement weather had not immediately curbed their passion. While the rain came down in relentless sheets, soaking the two of them mercilessly, Harry had clung to Severus, focusing on the feeling of those fingers sliding underneath his shorts, drawing closer and closer to his hard length. With a desperate moan caught in his throat and his breath coming out in hot, needy huffs, he had bucked his hips and arched his back… needing that touch… wanting so badly to feel those fingers wrap around his pulsing need.
Just as eager fingertips grazed the length of his hard, throbbing erection, Severus gave a sudden yelp of pain and leapt off of him like a shot, his hands coming up to cradle the back of his head. It seems Mother Nature had become more insistent for golf ball sized hail had begun to pummel the grounds with frightening intensity, beginning with the back of Severus' head.
Dripping wet and sporting a few bruises, they had quickly sought shelter indoors. Unlike the last time they'd run to the cottage to escape the weather, he and Severus did not pick up where they left off. They'd spent the next few minutes spelling their clothing, textbooks, school bags and all their parchment dry, then another hour and a half re-writing their formerly completed, but now ruined Transfiguration essays that were due the following morning.
The whole incident had prompted a very vexed Severus to suggest that they restrict their recreational activities, as he called them, to Saturdays and Sundays only, insisting that their studies should be their priority since their NEWTs were just a week and half away. Harry had reluctantly agreed, but had a difficult time concentrating on anything but those wandering fingers for the next couple of days.
On Friday night, he and Severus found themselves forced to do their studying inside the cottage as the weather had not improved much after that volatile storm on Wednesday. The heavy downpours had subsided by Friday afternoon, but the grounds were still saturated and there were massive puddles of rainwater everywhere. Severus made mention of the fact that it was just as well, explaining that he needed to do testing on his experimental potion project for Mastery Potions and that it would require several hours of brewing and detailed note-taking.
"Can I help?" Harry asked after watching Severus curse and mutter under his breath for the past three hours, his hand flying across his notes and scratching out line after line of his previous observations.
When Severus didn't answer right away, Harry pressed the issue, having become bored with his Ancient Runes homework of finding and deciphering ancient codes hidden in Egyptian Hieroglyphics.
"Look, I know I'm not all that adept at potions, especially experimental ones, but maybe if you tell me what you're doing... you know... talk through it a bit... you'll be able to figure out what's not working. After all, I am technically supposed to be working with you on this project."
Severus reflected on Harry's statement for a full minute before becoming acquiescent, beckoning him over to his worktable with a quick jerk of his head. Only after he had joined Severus did Harry realize just how complicated this project was. Severus had three cauldrons simmering at once with several flasks filled with various colored concoctions set up alongside them. Dozens of pages consisting of heavily corrected notes were sprawled out across every spare space of the worktable, many completely unreadable with multiple drops of ink smeared across their surfaces.
"This," Severus pointed to the first of the three cauldrons, "is a base for a Retorquentis Potion, one of my own invention. It has taken me most of the year to get this right as it is highly complex. Most people, even many Potions Masters, don't even attempt to brew these kinds of potions, let alone invent one."
"Wow, Severus. That's impressive! Except... I'm sorry, my Latin really isn't that great. What exactly is a Retorquentis Potion?"
Severus smirked, his amusement at Harry's deficient knowledge blatant.
"Retorquentis in Latin means Linking. This is a Linking Potion, and a very potent one at that."
Harry was too embarrassed at this point to ask further questions, but his features must have given away his confusion. Severus heaved a sigh of mild irritation, rolled his eyes, then plunged into more details.
"Perhaps it would make more sense if I simply give you an example of another Retorquentis Potion. I assume you've heard of Polyjuice Potion?"
"Oh. Yeah. Of course I've heard of that one. That's a type of Retorquentis Potion?"
"Yes. It is a Linking Potion, though the link is merely a physical one. The person imbibing the potion becomes linked temporarily to the donor, having consumed some physical portion of said person, usually hair or skin shavings, and the potion manifests that link by transforming the drinker into an exact physical replica of the donor."
"Alright, that makes sense. So, does your Retorquentis Potion create a physical link also?"
"No. It does not. In fact, currently, it provides absolutely no fucking link whatsoever as I am unable to find a Trigger Potion that yields the right results!" Severus seethed, his earlier calm lecturing tone escalating in volume as his frustration grew. "I am out of ideas, and there are only two weeks remaining before I must present it to Professor Slughorn!"
He slammed his stirring rod down onto the table and brought both hands up to his face, his fingers gripping clumps of his hair in agitation.
"Severus? Keep talking," Harry urged. "Tell me more about it. Maybe something will come to you. And, honestly, I still have no idea what you're talking about. Like these Trigger Potions. What do they do?"
Severus removed his hands from what was now a tangled mess of black hair and took a deep, fortifying breath before replying.
"A Retorquentis Potion needs a Trigger Potion in order to work properly. In the case of Polyjuice Potion, a simple Concealment Draught consisting of lacewings flies and fluxweed, added to the base during the second stage of brewing, acts as its Trigger Potion. It serves as a kind of guide for the potion, directing it – inspiring it, in a way – to generate the specific link required for physical duplication."
Harry of course had no idea a Concealment Draught was even needed for Polyjuice since it was Hermione who had brewed it back in their second year.
"Without that Concealment Draught," Severus continued, "Polyjuice Potion does nothing but cause a mild headache, nausea and, strangely enough, a temporary change in eye color."
At Harry's increasing look of surprise, Severus expounded further, "Research, Gray. I brewed an altered form of Polyjuice Potion and tested it on myself during Christmas break, its only difference being the omission of lacewing flies and fluxweed."
"Who was the donor?" Harry asked.
"Avery, unbeknownst to him of course. It was not a pleasant experience as I ended up with those wretched blue eyes of his for two days."
Biting his lip to stop himself from laughing at the picture forming in his mind of a blue-eyed Severus Snape, Harry pulled them back to the subject at hand.
"So, without the right Trigger Potion…"
"Without the right Trigger Potion," Severus repeated, then continued, "a Retorquentis Potion is completely ineffective. It will only initiate a tentative, imprecise connection to the donor. It will simply employ whatever is added from the donor and utilize it to engender a random, weak assimilation, but it will be generic, undefined. In other words, if I am unable to find the proper Trigger Potion for my Retorquentis Potion, my project will be an absolute failure."
Severus paused here and turned his focus to the second cauldron, taking his stirring rod and using it to whisk the contents agitatedly.
"I was so certain that the Euphoria Elixir would work as a Trigger Potion, especially after you came up with the idea of adding peppermint to counteract the side effects. But it still does not generate the correct link! All my testing indicates no link at all!"
"Euphoria? Severus... what kind of link are you trying to produce?"
At once, Severus' face became flushed and he lowered his gaze, that bottom lip caught between his teeth where it was nibbled in an obvious display of nervousness.
"I... well... I had hoped to create a... a mind link, of sorts," he answered, his voice softer, more unsure.
Harry narrowed his eyes, confused as to why the discussion of a mind link would bring about such an anxious reaction from Severus.
"You mean... similar to what occurs during Legilimency? A link that would allow someone access into someone else's thoughts and memories?" Harry questioned.
"Well, no. Not exactly. Although I do confess that the concept of Legilimency is what inspired me. I was reading a book about Occlumency and Legilimency from my mother's library last summer and found it very intriguing. Not knowing anything about the subject beforehand, you can imagine how much I..."
"Wait. You don't know anything about Legilimency... or Occlumency?" Harry asked.
For some reason, he found it shocking that there was ever a time when Severus Snape had no knowledge of mind magic. The idea not only surprised him, but it also prompted a niggling sense of unease to manifest in the back of his mind.
"Well, now I know a bit, having read most of that book. Anyway..."
"Hold on a minute… So, you probably wouldn't recognize it if someone were to cast a non-verbal Legilimens on you and peer into your mind, especially if it were very subtle and the wizard performing the spell extremely adept at it..." Harry muttered, more to himself than to Severus. There was something bothering him about this, some deep discontent that seemed to grow and fester inside his mind, causing his heart to race and his stomach to twist in apprehension.
"What exactly are you on about?" Severus asked.
Harry's eyes widened as the source of his indistinct anxiety came into sharp clarity.
"After Sirius attacked you... You told me that you didn't tell Dumbledore who did it. Is that right?"
Severus narrowed his eyes and fixed Harry with a suspicious look. After a moment, he nodded.
"But did the Headmaster ask you? Did he sit you down and ask you who did it?"
"Yes, but I told you, Gray, I wasn't about to reveal..."
"Son of a bitch!" Harry raged. "He knew! He knew it was Sirius that attacked you and he didn't do anything!"
"You think he penetrated my mind to find out who attacked me?"
"YES! Christ... that's why he remained suspicious of Sirius, even after I attacked Peter! He had proof that Sirius had a history of attempted murder. That's what made him suspect that Sirius was the one who..." Harry stopped short, realizing that in his anger he was close to divulging something Severus was not meant to hear.
Harry wasn't aware that he was shaking, so lost in his anger at the Headmaster for his presumption, for his persistent toxic secrecy, until Severus grabbed him and pulled him into an embrace, quelling his tremors and easing his fury.
Slowly, Harry felt himself relax in Severus' arms, the sharp edge to his wrath softening, his erratic breathing evening out and deepening. Slender hands came up to his face, coaxing him closer, those soft lips meeting his own in a tender kiss.
Harry spoke, his lips still touching Severus', "How are you not upset about what I just told you?"
"I am upset," Severus breathed out, his lips brushing against Harry's, "but you were even more upset. You needed me. It pains me to see you so distraught. My longing to comfort you is much stronger and truer than any..."
Severus' whole body froze. He pulled back and fixed Harry with a curiously blank expression. A moment later, it was replaced by a huge grin that stretched across his thin face. He whipped around and grabbed a piece of parchment, his movements frenetic as he dipped a quill into his ink bottle and began to scribble feverishly across the page.
"Sev–"
"Truth! It's truth! I am such an idiot! Veritaserum... but, shit! There isn't enough time to brew that before NEWTs. I suppose a weaker truth serum would accomplish the same end... yes... YES! That would actually work even better!"
"Sever–"
"Come on, Gray. Let's get back to the dorm. It's late and we'll need to get some sleep if we're going to get up early and go into Hogsmeade."
"Hogsmeade? What... why?"
"For ingredients. Looks like I have a new Trigger Potion to brew!"
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -
Harry awoke the next morning to the wonderful feeling of a warm hand on the back his neck, long fingers twisting around the ends of his hair and pulling lightly. Before his slumberous mind could gain enough cognizance to work out what had precipitated the glorious sensations, his lips were blanketed by another pair.
Torpid grey eyes remained firmly closed. Sight was not required, Harry determined. He would know those lips anywhere... and that intoxicating scent... and the feel of those soft strands of hair falling onto his cheeks as that deliberate tongue explored his mouth.
"Mmmm... Severus..." he breathed out when the boy abandoned Harry's mouth in favor of sucking on his neck with fervor.
"Shhh... you'll wake the others," he whispered.
"What?!"
Harry's eyes snapped open at once. He shot straight up in bed, his whole body tensing as he nervously scanned the dormitory, expecting to see their dorm mates asleep in their beds – or rather praying they were asleep and not gaping open-mouthed at the sight of he and Severus making out. After blinking several times to clear the sleep from his bleary eyes, Harry once again looked around the room but was surprised to find it empty. Every single bed was made, each with its hangings drawn back and neatly tied.
Severus' hearty chuckle made Harry's cheeks burn with embarrassment and he turned to see the boy's face radiant with impish amusement.
"That was not funny!" Harry chastised, but soon found himself unable to curtail his own reflexive grin. Severus' sense of humor was unpredictable and quite devious at times, but Harry had to admit that he rather enjoyed the boy's teasing nature.
"Well, I thought a little sensory overload, followed by an artful scare-tactic would be more sufficient in rousing you than a simple 'Gray, wake up!'. Be grateful I didn't climb into bed with you."
"You're evil," Harry murmured.
"I know. Now, get up and get dressed. It's already half seven and I want to be at the apothecary by eight."
"Severus, I told you last night. Flitwick is never going to let me miss detention!"
"Ah... never say never," Severus chanted in a sing-song voice. He wore a satisfied smirk on his thin face as he held up a piece of parchment in his right hand.
With haste, Harry snatched it away and began to read its brief message.
Mr. Skye,
Your detention this Saturday has been postponed. You are to report to my office at 10:00am. Do not be late.
Professor Flitwick
"How did you manage this?" Harry asked, his eyes wide with astonishment.
"It wasn't difficult. I simply informed Professor Flitwick that you and I are in desperate need of certain specialized potion ingredients for our Mastery Potions project. Since today is our last opportunity to visit the village before NEWTs, he agreed to delay your detention so that we are able to purchase them. Of course, it helped that I approached Professor Slughorn and got his rather earnest approval beforehand."
Harry's shocked visage transformed into a wide grin, thrilled that Severus' Slytherin shrewdness was instrumental in ensuring that he would be spending the bulk of his morning with Severus instead of playing the part of an obedient house-elf for his Charms Professor.
"And I've already procured breakfast," Severus announced, holding up a brown paper bag, "Two bacon sandwiches and a flask of pumpkin juice. We can eat on the way. I expect Hogsmeade will be packed before too long, and I would rather not be forced to wade through the mindless droves of eager third-years on their way to Zonko's, just for a quick stop at the apothecary.
"So… what are you waiting for, Gray? Get up! "
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o -
Harry found the morning walk into Hogsmeade enjoyable. He took his time munching on his breakfast while listening to Severus rattle on about what ingredients they would need to purchase in order to brew the new Trigger Potion. He didn't have a clue what the boy was on about, but he found the future Potions Master's enthusiasm entertaining.
"We will need porcupine quills for certain, at least a dozen of them. All truth serums require either porcupine or echidna quills as a base ingredient if it is to work properly, and since echidna quills are difficult to come by, porcupine quills will have to suffice. Of course, we will also have to examine their stock of fluxweed carefully. The last time I purchased some there, it was completely worthless. How they get away with selling fluxweed that hasn't been picked at the full moon is beyond me."
Harry listened to Severus' detailed itinerary with only partial attention, his mind drifting back to that fervent kiss Severus had woken him with, hoping they would be able to pick up where they left off after the conclusion of his detention. After all, it had been days since their last recreational activity.
His daydreaming was cut short the moment they stepped foot into the apothecary, his blissful musings replaced by a heightened sense of anxiety. In the very back of the shop stood Avery, Mulciber and Rosier, all of them glaring at him and Severus with looks of utmost loathing.
"Just ignore them," Severus whispered as he made his way over to the first aisle and began to peruse the shelves.
Never taking his eyes off the three Slytherins, Harry moved to stand behind Severus. With his body now partially hidden from their prying eyes, Harry slid his school bag off his shoulder and pulled out the Hawthorn wand. He slipped it into the sleeve of his jumper and out of sight.
Severus remained unaware of Harry's covert move, too busy scrutinizing the stock of fluxweed and Harry was grateful for his ignorance. He wasn't certain Severus would deem his cautionary action necessary.
Harry's tension increased a hundredfold when the next patrons entered the small shop. Remus, Sirius, Peter, James and Lily strolled in, the latter giggling as she dragged a reluctant-looking James further into the store.
"Lily, be quick about it, would you? Sirius and I want to visit Honeydukes before it gets too crowded," James pleaded.
"You shush! It won't take me long. I only need to find... ah, there it is," she announced, grabbing a small jar of what looked like dandelion roots from a nearby shelf. She walked over to the register with James in tow and pulled out a small purse to pay for her purchase.
Harry realized that he had been staring at his future mother yet again and quickly averted his eyes. His gaze met Avery's next, not surprised to see the boy still staring at him. This time though, that haughty face was twisted into an unnerving, almost wicked grin. Pale blue eyes darted to Lily for a split second before turning back to Harry's, that malevolent smile widening.
With a growing sense of dread, Harry tore his gaze away from Avery, his head snapping back to where his future parents had been only seconds before. He hoped that at least one of the Gryffindors had noticed the dangerous look that had just been leveled at them, but all five Gryffindors were gone, the door to the apothecary closing with a faint click.
"I suppose I'll have to buy one of each," Severus conceded, catching Harry's attention with a heavy sigh. His ams were now full of various ingredients. "Gray, can you help me carry these?"
Following Severus to the register with his right arm cradling five different jars of fluxweed, Harry's sense of foreboding deepened when he saw all three Slytherins nearing the exit. Avery grabbed the door handle and turned around, offering Harry one final diabolical smile and a wink before hurrying from the shop.
Seized by sudden, irrevocable panic, Harry dumped the jars onto the counter.
"Sev... I... I think we should go. Let's go. Right now. We can buy these later," he blurted out, pulling his wand from his sleeve as he moved towards the door.
"Why? We're here. Why on earth would you want to leave and come back lat–"
Severus' inquiry was cut short when a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. Harry knew that voice without thought or reflection. He'd heard that scream numerous times before, its dire tone sounding more terrifying and urgent than it ever had in his haunting memories.
Racing from the shop at top speed, wand held at the ready, Harry frantically searched for the five Gryffindors. The streets were crammed with fleeing students, all of them moving with urgency as they ducked for safety in nearby shops, but there was no sign of Lily or the Marauders. Harry was vaguely aware of Severus calling his name in the distance but he had no time to double-back. He had to find Lily.
Another chilling cry rung out, resonating amid the panicked shouts from the crowd. It was followed by the unmistakable crackle of curses splitting the stagnant air. With his heartbeat thundering in his ears, Harry turned toward the sound, rounding the corner and sprinting down a small alleyway alongside the apothecary until at last he found them.
The sight that met his eyes made him freeze in shock, fear coursing through him, nearly strangling him.
Lily lay motionless on the ground with James crouched down beside her. His future father's body trembled as he gathered her prone form into his arms. He held her in a desperate grip, rocking her back and forth and whimpering incoherently, his wand lying forgotten by his side. Sirius was kneeling next to the couple, his body rigid, a look of horror on his wan face. Standing a few feet away from them was Peter. The boy's eyes were wide with fear and his arms and shoulders were shaking badly. Harry tore his gaze away, his eyes darting over to Remus whose wand was leveled at a point further down the narrow street, his intended target obscured by the alley's darkness.
An instant later, the attackers emerged from the shadows, their wands drawn. Avery sauntered over to the Gryffindors with Mulciber and Rosier at his heels. He peered down at Lily with a mixture of repulsion and triumph, but his inspection was fleeting. Soon, those cold blue eyes found Harry's and a vile grin stretched across his face.
Unable to control the blinding fury swelling inside of him, Harry charged forward, pointing the Hawthorn wand directly at that complacent sneer, the inception of a hex forming on his lips.
"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"
Sirius' enraged shriek distracted Harry. He faltered, stopping dead in his tracks, and watched as his future godfather awoke from his trance-like stupor and bounded forward, his own wand leveled at Avery now.
"No, Sirius! Don't!" Remus cried out, but Sirius paid his friend's warning no mind. A blinding flash of violet illuminated the dim backstreet as Sirius' curse was shouted with a howl of fury.
"Confrin–"
"Protego!"
Mulciber's answering protection spell engulfed himself and Avery, rendering Sirius' blasting curse impotent. It ricocheted off its boundary and dissolved into a shower of harmless indigo sparks.
Again, Harry aimed his wand at Avery, the curse a mere second away from formulating, but the Slytherin was faster.
"Crucio!"
Avery's curse hit Sirius square in the chest. The Gryffindor crumpled to the ground instantly, writhing the pain, his face screwed up in agony as screams issued from his bloodless lips.
"NO! Sirius!" Harry shouted, running forward, redirecting his wand to now point toward his future godfather.
"Protego!" he shouted, hurling the spell at Sirius in a desperate attempt to stave off the Cruciatus' effects. The shield was no match for the Unforgivable, however, doing nothing to alleviate Sirius' suffering.
"Diffindo!"
"Reducto!"
The combined effects of Harry's and Remus' simultaneous curses were blocked by yet another shield charm, this one cast by Rosier, its protection encompassing all three Slytherins now while Avery's Crucio sliced right through it to further torture its victim. The Slytherin's grin was almost feverish with pleasure while he watched Sirius twitching and jerking from the impact of his spell.
Unwilling to watch his godfather suffer a moment longer, Harry lunged forward, throwing himself in front of the curse. At once, his body seized up as the full force of the spell hit him. He gasped, his muscles clenching and his teeth grinding together, as what felt like every nerve in his body seared with excruciating pain.
Terrified shrieks filled the air, merging with distinct shouts of more curses, the confused clamor assailing Harry's ears as he fought to stay upright. He heard several more of Remus' curses. They echoed inside his enfeebled mind, mixing with other bellowed incantations, James' own defensive spells joining the werewolf's.
"GRAY!"
Severus' panicked scream in the distance broke through all the others, coming to Harry through a haze of debilitating pain. He opened his eyes to mere slits, seeking him out. Hot tears burned his eyes, obscuring his vision, and he swayed with the effort to remain conscious. Just as he thought he could no longer endure the stabbing, biting, agonizing pain, the spell was lifted. Instantly, Harry's trembling legs let go, weakness overtaking him as he collapsed onto his hands and knees. Panting and wheezing, trying to will his lungs to take in more air, he raised his head to see Severus running toward him.
"Severus..." he gasped, choking, his voice catching in his throat.
"I'm not quite done with you yet, Skye," hissed Avery, his voice was deadly soft, but his intended threat resonant.
With extreme effort, Harry turned his gaze back to meet those cold, malicious eyes head on. Avery's twisted, sadistic grin broadened just as his next curse barreled toward Harry.
"Paraliticorum Cerebrum!"
"NO!"
Severus' scream was deafening. It pierced Harry with a ubiquitous exigence, filling his heart and mind, his very soul, with overwhelming dread.
The next second, Harry's entire body locked as a strangled gasp was forced from his constricting throat. Panic gripped him as what little control he had over his quivering limbs vanished, his wand slipping from his fingers. He fell forward, his forehead striking the hard surface of the paved road with a sickening crack.
Terrified screams and cries assailed Harry's ears just as gentle hands grasped his shoulders, turning him over. Those same hands trembled as they pulled him into a close embrace, arms wrapping around him, holding him. Faint, sorrowful sounds met Harry ears, heart-rending susurrations whispered to him as desperate pleas.
"No... no... no..."
Warm tears fell onto Harry's cheeks and neck and quivering lips brushed against his face, the pleading words escaping them becoming more desperate, more anguished.
"No... Please, God... no..."
Harry opened his bleary eyes, his lids heavy, sluggish, willfully fighting his control.
"S-Severus..." he breathed, but no sound was heard, his numb lips moving in muted silence.
Anguished, ebony eyes locked with his own. Harry clung to the image in desperation, trying to hold on, even as his vision began to cloud and dim. The encroaching darkness crept in with slow, torturous malice, gradually overtaking him, consuming him, eclipsing his sight, his breath, his mind...
Until only darkness remained.
Chapter End - TBC
A/N: Well, once again I missed my initial deadline. I do apologize for making you all wait. Hopefully, you found this latest chapter to be worth that wait.
As always, I must thank YenGirl for her help. Thanks Yen! I know how busy you've been lately and it means a lot to me that you took some time away from your hectic schedule to look over my chapter! :)
I would also like to thank all of you who have reviewed since my last update, as well as those of you who have added GSM to your favorites list. Your support and encouragement is very much appreciated.
As for my next chapter, I am hoping to post it by the end of January. If that changes, I will update my Bio page with a new ETA. In the meantime, feel free to check out my Christmas Snarry, Vocal Benefaction. It is a three-part story (two have already been posted and the third will be posted just before Christmas).
Happy Holidays, everyone! :D
Please Review.