Gray Skye Mourning

by KneazleGriff

As Severus Snape lay dying on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack, bleeding in the arms of Harry Potter, a profound, devastating realization awakens a long lost love, latent for years and torn asunder by time's cruel fate. Is love strong enough to overcome the pain from the past and ensure Severus' survival? Time-Travel fic. SSHP - COMPLETE.

18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen -

Intentions of Love

Harry stood in the warm, shallow waters of the pond, his feet sinking into the soft silt lining its bed and his hands wading beneath its rippling surface. Gentle waves lapped at his bare chest in a slow, sedate rhythm, causing his mind to drift, an ethereal sense of serenity washing over him.

Breathing deeply, he let his softened gaze lift skyward, settling it on a fluttering expanse of green in the distance that were the leaves from the Forbidden Forest's towering trees, swaying in the cool morning breeze. Their lyrical rustling was like a whisper of nostalgic calm... a murmured promise of a long-awaited end to a heartfelt tale.

"Back again, Gray?"

Startled from his reverie, Harry spun around. Albus Dumbledore sat on the edge of the dock next to him, clad in robes of such luminous white that his long silver beard was rendered almost grey by comparison. Twin orbs of deep cerulean, brilliant in intensity and benevolence, pierced Harry's own. The man's heavily lined lips were turned upward in a slight grin... an easy contented look to his aged face.

"Professor?!" Harry cried out, his tranquil mood dissolving into an eerie sense of déja vu. Flustered, he gaped at the Headmaster, the familiar, yet slightly variant scene causing his rational thoughts to coalesce with memories of fragmented illusion... his flummoxed mind frantic to distinguish reality from fantasy... fact from fiction... truth from hallucination...

Am I dreaming again?

A familiar beckoning tugged at Harry's heart, drawing him away from his introspection just as a flicker of vibrant red caught his eye. He snapped his gaze down to the water where a single scarlet plume floated upon its sparkling surface. Heart speeding up and breath held tight, he snatched up the silken quill without thought... lifting it from its watery bed and holding it up with trembling fingers.

"What I told you before still holds true, I'm afraid," Dumbledore apprised, blue eyes now focused on the feather as well. "It does not belong to you."

"But it feels... so right... in my hand," Harry breathed, his voice shaking with something like awe as he studied the miraculous object. Yearning to understand, he looked back up.

"If it's not mine... then why does it feel like it's a part of me? Why does it call to me?"

Dumbledore's meager smile grew, his eyes sparkling with mirthful insight as he brought both aged hands down to clasp Harry's, the man's wrinkled fingers encircling both hand and feather.

"My dear boy, the feather recognizes you... calls to you, as you put it... because of your devotion to the one its owner belongs to... and because of the unprecedented steps you've taken in the name of love... steps intended to ease his pain and suffering. Altruistic love such as this is timeless. Even before love's manifestation within the deepest recesses of your heart, its existence was easily perceived by those unhindered by the encumbrance of linear time. Gray, Fawkes has always been influenced by your connection with him... by your love for him... and he always will."

As Dumbledore's elucidation came to a close and his hands withdrew, Harry's gaze fell back onto the feather, mind racing and heart rousing with the fledgling stirrings of tentative hope.

"So Fawkes belongs to... to Severus now?" Harry whispered, his breath catching in his throat when, all of a sudden, golden droplets of sun-kissed water began to flow like tears from the shock of scarlet in his hand... drops of shimmering gold trailing down the length of his arm and falling into the water below. The gleaming metallic-like drops fanned out into circular ripples upon impact... spreading out across the smooth, placid surface... tiny circles widening as they raced across the vitreous facade.

"No beginning and no end..."

Harry heard Dumbledore's muttered words as if from a distance. He closed his eyes as that steady pulse of love began to spark and thrum inside him once again... its rhythmic beat radiating a suffusive energy that spread out from the center of his chest, shooting down his arm and coming to rest in the very tips of his gripping fingers. His entire hand tingled with warmth from the onrush as if it were bathed in some unseen benevolent radiance... or held within another's tight grasp. The encompassing warmth was soothing... sheltering... loving...

And wonderfully familiar.

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

Harry's throat felt parched. He licked dry lips with an equally dry tongue, hoping to moisten them nonetheless and swallowed hard. Throat burning from the small action, he let out a low groan, muscles tensing in discomfort and eyelids squeezing together.

"Se-Sev... S-Severus," he croaked, his voice faint, raspy, throat throbbing with the effort. Again he swallowed, letting his head fall to one side as he tried to bring movement back to his stiff muscles and clarity back to his muddled mind – the latter of which was in a state of hopeless disorientation.

Wasn't I just in the pond? With Dumbledore?

No, he was lying down on a soft and comfortable surface that felt like a bed.

And the feather? But no... no, that was a dream. Just a dream.

That strong pulse of love blazing within him however, was not imagined. Nor was the comforting warmth surrounding his right hand, or the swift upsurge of desperate hope now gripping his heart as awareness began to return to him.

Clinging to that kindling of hope like a lifeline, Harry forced his heavy eyelids open. He grunted in annoyance when his vision was met with nothing but a distorted blur and resorted to blinking several times in an attempt to clear it. When he opened them fully once more, the sight before him, though still a bit blurry, was now clear enough to decipher – pulling a ragged gasp from his burning throat and causing tears to pool instantly at the corners of his eyes.

Sitting in a straight-backed wooden chair a couple of feet away was Severus – not the eighteen-year-old Severus Harry had left behind, but the adult and formidable Potions professor from his own time. Dressed in black trousers and a simple white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone, he was slumped back against that hard, unforgiving chair with his head resting awkwardly on one shoulder, eyes closed and face reposeful in sleep. Long, jagged scars traversed his exposed neck, pink and smooth-looking. Crisscrossing at odd angles, they curled around the contour of his slender neck, disappearing beneath long strands of ebony hair. One pale hand rested upon the chair's armrest, while the other was outstretched toward the bed with fingers curled around Harry's upturned palm almost possessively, thumb nestled underneath.

"Severus... my God! You're alive!" Harry choked out.

An emotional release of relief and joy and bittersweet heartache plowed through him at the sight, shaking him to the very core. Unable to control his emotions any longer, bowled over all at once by the curative unleashing of all the panic, fear and uncertainty that had been poisoning him for the last month, he started weeping with abandon, tears streaming down his cheeks and labored breaths catching in his throat as he stared at the miraculous image in front of him.

Yearning to get closer to Severus, Harry attempted to prop himself onto his right elbow, using it as leverage to wriggle further toward the edge of the bed, his fingers squeezing Severus' hand for stability. He regretted his abrupt movements at once when his right arm began to shake violently, his head pounding in protest. He collapsed back onto the bed, his vision spinning and his breathing becoming choppy and tight, his whole body aching with sharp, shooting pains.

"Damn it!" he hissed through gritted teeth, eyelids clamped shut again in an attempt to lessen the rush of vertigo assailing him.

"Gray! Shhh... it's OK. You're OK," came a low, soothing voice. Its familiar lilt and inflection lifted Harry's spirit to soaring heights in an instant, his current discomfort no longer mattering as warm breath caressed his neck and what felt like a strong arm encircled his trembling shoulders. He felt the bed dip behind him and then another arm was wrapped around his chest, coaxing him to lean back onto the firm chest that had slid into place behind him.

Harry succumbed to the familiar touch and persuasion, tight muscles loosening as his head slumped back onto an awaiting shoulder. A hard, cool surface was then pressed to his bottom lip, encouraging him to drink. He obeyed the silent request, his face screwing up in distaste at the sharp bitterness and grainy texture of the liquid. As soon as the vial was withdrawn from his lips, his tremors ceased and the worst of his pain abated.

Harry immediately twisted around, falling forward into the lean body supporting his weight. Eyes still shut tight, he buried his face in a stretch of warm skin and breathed deeply, a small whimper escaping his throat as the familiar scent of Severus filled him, soothed him, centered him. He brought his free hand up to the other side of that slender neck as he continued to breathe and nuzzle his love, fingers skimming over smooth scar tissue and running through long stands of fine hair, his every breath catching in his throat.

After a moment, Harry felt the tentative touch of unsure arms sliding around his back and then the unmistakable sensation of fingers clenching at the fabric of his shirt as those arms tightened in certainty, drawing him in and holding him close.

For several long minutes, there was nothing but silence as they clung to one another in desperation, both of them seemingly lost to the moment. In the respite from speech and pain, Harry surrendered to the profound sense of relief washing over him, reveling in the exquisite feeling of once again being held in Severus' protective embrace, losing himself to the familiar warm skin pressed against his own and the intimate caress of equally warm breaths ghosting over his cheek. His fraught mind seemed to temper with each one of those shaky breaths drawn in and released, his aching soul calming with every heartbeat shared between them.

In contrast, their link resonated and quickened with that steadfast pulse of fervent love, intense and needy, wild and wanting, hungry for emotional requital. But love was not the only emotion reaching out to Harry through their renewed connection; there was also a fierce, soul-deep fear and shame which was growing ever stronger and more acute with each passing second.

Unwilling to ignore Severus' mounting distress, Harry withdrew from their embrace and opened his eyes, hands coming to rest on Severus' chest as he lifted his gaze. When their eyes met, Harry instantly felt as though time had ceased its forward progression – as though his entire existence had somehow sped up and then slammed to an abrupt halt, culminating in this one breathless, heart-stopping moment.

Unable to form words, he found himself taken in by those soulful ebony eyes staring back at him – eyes that were both familiar and alien, whose depths intimated secrets already shared as well as those still undisclosed. They were the eyes of a man whose heart, body and mind were intimately known to Harry, yet were also temptingly undiscovered. Two decades' worth of anguish and grief and bitter desolation radiated out through those emotive orbs, but they also shone with a love so deep and pure, so boundless and untouchable, that not even the wretched passing of time itself could erode its fortitude.

Within those eyes, Harry saw both the boy he had fallen in love with and the man whom that boy had become. In that moment of suspended time and protracted surreality, while faced with the duality of past and present, expectancy and contrition, hope and fear, an understanding swept through Harry, one so profound and exhilarating, so breathtakingly beautiful, that it warmed his soul to its very core, goosebumps of reaction breaking out on his skin.

His newfound love for Severus was not, and never had been, solely for the teenage boy from the past, but rather, encompassed both man and boy. All that Severus had been and all that he would ever be – heart, body, mind and soul.

Forever.

This revelation, though heartening and deeply fulfilling, was short-lived, blighted by Harry's own guilt that was now roaring to life inside him. His heart, drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions, could not seem to shake off the ache of remorse cutting into him with ferocity – remorse for being the sole cause of his love's suffering for the past two decades.

"I'm... so sorry," Harry choked out, body trembling again, regretful tears sliding down his cheeks.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Gray," Severus whispered. "I should be the one to apologize. I... I failed you. With each horrible choice I made and each unforgivable act of cruelty I committed, I let you down. I should have been true to our love... I should have trusted in our destined reunion. Instead, I gave into my rage and desperate grief. I was so weak–"

"You were never weak, Severus!" Harry interrupted. "You were in pain! My God, I left you with the agony of our shattered bond and you had no choice but to endure that loss... that torture... for twenty years! And still you persevered. No – no, you weren't weak."

With only a slight hesitation, Harry brought his hands up to Severus' face. Seeing the irreversible changes time had wrought in those beloved features, he traced his thumbs along the sharp contour of the high cheekbones and then over the lines of bitter discontent near the mouth, fingertips slipping in between silky strands of jet black hair.

"Despite all the pain you endured, Severus... all the misery and heartache... you still made it through," he continued, his voice quavering slightly. "Yes, you made mistakes, but in the end, you made up for those mistakes. You were brave and strong and–"

"And vindictive and spiteful and viciously cruel!" Severus spat, snapping his head back to escape Harry's hands, his rising volume and wrathful tone reminiscent of his teaching days. Jerking upright off the bed, he withdrew from Harry and took several steps backward, thin face twisted in grief and self-disgust.

"For the last seven years, I have done nothing… nothing… but belittle you and treat you with disdain. I refused to see you for who you really were… for who you would one day become… and I punished you for the sins of your father, as well as for my own sins. Gray, don't act as though you've forgotten what I've done! Do me the courtesy of at least acknowledging the fact that I was the one responsible for your parents' deaths... that it was I who almost got you killed when you were... when you were just a... Oh God!"

Severus' strident voice cracked and faltered, the anger in it dissolving into raw despair. He brought a shaky hand to his mouth and closed his eyes, his head lowering. Tears that had begun to gather in those dark eyes during his self-recrimination succumbed to their fate at last and fell unheeded down the man's flushed cheeks.

"Severus," Harry whispered. He stopped to take a much needed breath as a sharp stab of caustic guilt forced its way into his heart through their link, flooding him with feelings of misery and anguish.

Pushing past the debilitating rush of emotions, he maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed and stood up on shaky legs, taking the few steps necessary to bridge the distance between them. Reaching out with his left hand, he placed his fingertips to the pale wrist hanging limp at Severus' side, letting them glide along the back of the slim hand below it until their fingers were aligned.

As if twenty years' worth of desolation and abandonment had never occurred, Severus' fingers separated instinctively, allowing Harry's their familiar fit and hold – permitting them to interlock, Harry's fingers curling into his warm palm.

"Severus, look at me," Harry said firmly, moving closer so that their bodies were almost touching.

Slowly, that dark head lifted and those tearful ebony orbs locked with his once more.

"Tell me what you feel right now... through our link," Harry demanded, his hand tightening its grip on Severus'. "Tell me what you feel from me... from my heart."

Again, Severus closed his eyes, his neck tilting slightly to one side as the Adam's apple in that long throat jerked upward in a hard swallow. After a moment, his lips parted, a slow release of shaky breath escaping them.

"Understanding," he whispered, his eyelids lifting again to reveal dark orbs still shimmering with tears. "Acceptance... forgiveness."

"And?"

"And love," Severus breathed, the hint of a smile curving his lips, even as more tears fell from his eyes. "But…"

That tentative smile fell as his voice trailed off, a look of anguish reappearing on his face.

"How you could possibly feel love for me after everything I've done? And why – why did you even go back? You and I were nothing to each other at that time – nothing more than estranged student and loathed professor. Yet you went back, even after I forced what must have been an incredibly shocking memory of the two of us into your mind. Why, Gray? Why did you go back... knowing what would occur... knowing we were destined to fall in love?"

The sheer bewilderment in Severus' voice made Harry avert his gaze, looking down at the familiar sight of their woven fingers. He blinked when he finally noticed the vast improvement in his physical condition. He was now dressed in a pair of clean, blue flannel pyjamas which must have belonged to Severus as the sleeves and pant legs had been rolled up to fit his smaller stature. There was no sign of the streaks of caked mud, grime and blood he knew he had collected during his frantic hurtle through the forest and his knees and feet no longer hurt. He had been cleaned, healed and cared for.

Cared for.

Harry pulled another deep, fortifying breath into his lungs and looked up into those bemused ebony eyes, his answer coming to him easily now.

"I went back for two reasons. One – because you've always taken care of me," he said. He reached for Severus' other hand, but was denied the chance as it withdrew, Severus shaking his head.

"No. No, I haven't, I–"

"Yes, you have, Severus," Harry insisted. "You've been looking out for my well-being – protecting me – since I came to Hogwarts, and you've saved my life on more than one occasion."

"All done selfishly – to make amends for my cowardice... for my weaknesses... for my grave decisions."

"Bullshit!" Harry growled, frustrated at Severus' stubborn refusal to see the good in himself. "You didn't watch over me because of some self-imposed penance... despite what you may have told yourself all these years. It was love! Love for a girl who was the first person to see the goodness in you... a girl who befriended you when no one else would. You protected me because of your love for Lily. And I think – though I'm sure you'll deny this as well – I think you also did it because of your love for Gray."

Harry finally managed to grab Severus' other hand. He threaded their fingers together and tightened his grip on both hands, pulling the man close again.

"You've always made it your duty to keep me safe, Severus," he insisted. "After viewing your memories, learning of your true loyalties and your unyielding quest to bring down Voldemort from within, I knew I had to do whatever it took to save your life. I just couldn't let you die... not after everything you'd done for me and for others."

Severus' head was lowered, long hair concealing his face from view, but after a moment, he looked back up, an open, vulnerable look to those dark eyes. A tear fell from sodden black lashes, sliding down Severus' cheek along a well-worn path.

"What was the second reason? You said there were two," he muttered, his voice sounding soft and uncertain, so much like the eighteen-year-old version of himself, that Harry's heart clenched in painful remembrance.

"I read your poem," Harry admitted, his cheeks growing hot with something like embarrassment, though he couldn't quite fathom why this particular confession, after everything else that had occurred between them, would warrant such a display of chagrin. He took another deep breath to temper his emotions and then continued his explanation.

"After I found the feather pendant in the Shrieking Shack, I went to your quarters. I was hoping to find some kind of clue... something that would help me understand that memory you implanted in my mind. That's when I came upon the Dark Arts book with the polaroid and the poem tucked inside."

Severus' flushed cheeks reddened still further and Harry felt a burst of new affection for him as the man's embarrassment reached him through their link. He swept his thumb along Severus' palm, trying to ease his heightened distress with a gentle touch.

"When I read the poem," Harry paused, trying to gather his thoughts, his mind struggling to find the right combination of words that could lend meaning to what he was only now beginning to come to terms with. "I... I felt... something. Something that I've never felt before. Something that was compelling enough to make me want me to meet my fate, whatever that turned out to be. Something that moved me in a way that nothing before ever had."

"What was it?" Severus breathed, dark eyes staring fixedly into Harry's.

"If I had to choose a word for it, I guess it would be… desire… or longing, maybe – though not in the sexual sense," Harry explained. He swallowed hard, hoping to soothe the tight, sandpapery feel to his throat so that he could continue. His nerves were getting the best of him now that he was about to disclose something to Severus that he hadn't even fully admitted to himself.

Taking another slow draw of breath into his tight lungs, he gritted his teeth and soldiered on, his voice harsher than he meant it to sound.

"I never had much experience with love. In fact, I grew up without it entirely. It wasn't until I came to Hogwarts and met Ron and Hermione, that I was shown any sort of compassion and basic human kindness. Because of them, I came to know love – the protective, loyal and supportive love of friendship. When Sirius and Remus came into my life, I experienced a fatherly, paternal kind of love. And then there was Ginny, but... I see now that that was more about needing someone, rather than loving someone.

"But when you forced that memory of you and Gray into my mind and called me by his name while looking at me with such love... and then later, when I read the poem and saw that photograph of the two of you... for the first time in my life, I had evidence that a deeper kind of love existed for me – one that was pure and real, a true, soulful love that despite all odds, had withstood the test of time. This love was meant for me. It was waiting for me; I only had to take a leap of faith, and it could be mine. I hadn't the courage to admit it to myself at the time, but the truth is that I went back because..."

Harry faltered in his speech once more, his throat closing up on him. He bit down on his trembling lower lip and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to break down just yet.

A warm hand touched his cheek and trembling fingers skimmed along his heated skin, combing through his hair before curling around the back of his neck. Leaning into the welcome touch, Harry felt his own trepidation overpowered by swirling bands of acceptance and understanding. With that understanding, he found just enough strength and resolve and quavering voice to utter the last of his emotional confession.

"I-I went back because... because I wanted it. I wanted to be loved like that," he choked out, new tears pooling in the corners of his closed eyes. "I didn't fall in love with you by reading that poem, Severus – that happened later. But I did fall in love with the idea of being loved. I wanted... so much... to be Gray. Your Gray."

Severus' arms tightened around him, as if he was affected by Harry's words or acknowledging the similarity of their love-deprived upbringing or both, his head dipping down so that his cheek rested against Harry's own. Leaning forward, he placed his mouth to that sensitive place just below Harry's ear and kissed him there, lips parting just enough to allow his tongue to caress the spot briefly before closing again and sucking softly.

Harry felt his knees wobble at the familiar touch and feel from his lover, his legs suddenly trembling, threatening to give way.

Severus maintained his strong hold around Harry's back while he pressed more kisses to his neck, his lips sliding up to brush against the shell of Harry's ear as he spoke in a faint whisper of warm, wet breath.

"But you are Gray and... God, I've missed you."

The words were comforting enough, but they struck discord within Harry, sudden terror infusing him. His heart began to thrash wildly in his chest, his mind racing at a frantic pace as a frightening realization slammed into him with the force of a speeding bludger...

That strong and steady pulse of love burning inside him at this very moment – Severus' enduring and timeless love – was for Gray.

Not Harry.

Severus was very much aware that the two were one and the same, but knowing and accepting were two different things. Right now, he was feeling an overwhelming amount of love for Gray... so much that Harry was finding it difficult to even breathe through the emotional relief and adoration and devotion flooding through their link... but all of that... all of it... was solely for the boy staring back at Severus...

...a boy with eyes of cool, slate-grey and shoulder-length, wavy hair of deep mahogany…

"Gray?" Severus questioned, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not," Harry whispered, voice shaking.

Severus' eyes narrowed further, his brow lined in increasing bemusement. "What–?"

"I'm not Gray!" Harry cried out in anguish. He staggered backwards with shaky, awkward steps, sinking onto the bed when the backs of his legs made contact with the edge of the mattress, hands coming up to cover his face in shame.

He could hear Severus moving about, the sounds of footsteps and then the rustling of searching hands and a zipper being pulled, but he kept his head down, fingers splayed across his tear-tracked face as he sought to steady his breath and calm his sudden panic. Severus must be getting him a calming draught, but Harry doubted this potent feeling of dread would abate with a mere elixir. The love Severus felt for Gray could not possibly extend to his true self. Severus Snape could never really love Harry Potter, after all.

It was impossible.

God, I've been such a fool!

Lost in his recriminations, Harry started when gentle fingers encircled his right wrist and pulled it down. Hands falling to his lap, he opened his eyes to see Severus kneeling on the ground before him.

Severus' left hand was still holding Harry's wrist, but his right was clutching a wand that was not his own, a lengthy switch of dark elder wood, intricately carved in alternating curves and sharp, meticulous lines. Seeing it the tip pointed right in his face prompted a sudden upsurge to Harry's already heightened uncertainty and confusion.

"Severus? Wh–what are you doing?" he stammered, his weak tone betraying his escalating anxiety.

Ebony eyes, still glistening with the remnants of spent tears, pierced Harry's own with a penetrating look, their depths radiating much more confidence than was present moments ago. Voice quavering only slightly, Severus answered Harry's question in a mere breath of whispered words.

"I'm letting go of Gray."

Harry sucked in a sharp breath and held it, snapping his eyes shut when Severus raised the Elder wand higher.

"Finite Incantatem Totalis!"

An intense burst of powerful magic washed over Harry, lighting his nerve ends. Sharp prickling sensations followed, attacking his scalp and forehead, his eyes beginning to sting and water as tears, undeterred by their concealing lids, flowed down his cheeks.

The gentle caress of Severus' thumbs wiping away his fallen tears was the trigger Harry needed to relinquish his captive breath. He trembled through its release, his hands coming up to grab onto Severus' shoulders while his body adjusted to the forcible magical change. Eyes still shut tight, he tried to concentrate on regaining his steady breath and slowing down his heart rate, but his thoughts impeded his attempt.

Oh God... I look like myself again! What will I see in Severus' eyes now? Disappointment? Regret? Hatred?

Terrified, Harry kept his eyes firmly shut and reached out to Severus through their link, hoping to gauge the man's emotional state and predict his reaction to the moment that was now only seconds away. Severus was about see him as Harry Potter – unmasked and laid bare, without concealment or misdirection, all overlaps of time rectified – for the first time since that horrible morning in the Shrieking Shack a month ago.

"Open your eyes," Severus whispered. "Please... please look at me."

Despite the fear of rejection gripping his heart and squeezing at his insides, Harry took courage from the feel of those hands still cupping his face, fingertips buried in his hair and thumbs resting on his wet cheeks. He obeyed the familiar request, opening his eyes and locking his gaze with those soulful pools of deep obsidian.

The dark orbs were actively moving, roving over every detail of Harry's face as if drinking him in. They lingered for a long moment on the scar marring his forehead before sweeping over unruly dark locks and then down to his trembling lips and finally ceased their exploration, coming to rest on brilliant green eyes, staring into their depths with piercing intensity.

"Say something," Harry choked out, bracing himself for the inevitable, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He bit down on his bottom lip to abate its incessant quiver and drew in an inadequate breath while he waited for Severus to heed his request.

Severus did not immediately comply with that request. Instead, he continued to stare unflinchingly into his eyes. When at last he spoke, his words were voiced with fervent clarity and certainty.

"You have the face of James Potter," he stated, dark eyes scanning his features again before returning to lock with brilliant pools of emerald, "the eyes of Lily Evans..."

Severus paused to trail the fingers of his right hand down the length of Harry's neck, stopping at his chest where he pressed his palm lightly.

"...the heart of Gray Skye..."

With his right hand still pressed to Harry's racing heart, Severus brought his left one up to Harry's forehead, threading his long fingers through his hair to push it back and then brushing his thumb along the jagged line of his lightning-shaped scar.

"And the soul... the soul of Harry Potter."

Harry's chest tightened with overwhelming emotion – his own roiling, churning feelings now almost indistinguishable from Severus'. A whirlwind mix of love and want and fear and excitement flared like an inferno through their open channel, preventing him from speaking, his anticipation almost suffocating him, tentative hope beginning to conquer the intense dread that had weighed so heavily upon him only moments ago.

"Who you are... what you look like... what name you go by... it makes no difference to me. Not anymore. You are – and have always been – the love of my life... Harry."

Harry released both a shaky breath and a wordless cry of relief of relief. There was nothing but love and trust pushing through their link now, flooding his senses, easing the painful tension in his trembling body. He brought his hands up to touch Severus, pushing his fingers through soft strands of ebony hair and inching further to the edge of the bed to get closer to his love, his eyes still fixed on those cavernous, emotive depths.

Still kneeling on the floor, Severus edged forward as well, his body taking up space in between Harry's parted legs as he pulled Harry toward him with one hand sliding around the back of Harry's neck and the other wrapping around his lower back.

Harry moved further into the protective embrace, close enough to feel the man's warm, shaky breaths ghosting over his mouth, to thrill at the electrifying feeling of heat radiating from that lean body pressed up against his own – both sensations causing his pulse to reach an unfathomable speed and his skin to tingle with barely controlled excitement.

Diminishing the small space separating them, Severus brushed his lips against Harry's in a soft, tender caress, his tongue sweeping along his lower lip tentatively while his warm breaths filled Harry's open mouth.

Harry shuddered, the sensation of the that teasing tongue sliding along his bottom lip sending his heart into palpitations. It gave another lurch when in the next second, Severus pushed forward with conviction, thin lips locking with Harry's own and his tongue driving into his mouth – exploring, ravaging, claiming... remembering.

"Oh God..." Harry exclaimed when Severus' lips withdrew their attention from his mouth and latched onto that sensitive spot on his neck again, kissing and nipping and sucking on the delicate skin. Slender hands then moved to the sides of Harry's waist, their grip strong as their owner drove Harry back further onto the bed and climbed on top of him. Then those eager lips came back to Harry's own, initiating another deep, mind-numbing kiss.

The familiar feeling of Severus' body pressing down on him and his arms curling around him had Harry's heart racing anew, his chest heaving against the welcome heaviness, brain reeling with pleasurable ideas and blissful sensations. Drowning in mounting desire, he had just enough coherency remaining to register the stunning revelation that the boy... no, man... kissing him into the mattress with such passion and desperate intensity was, in fact, his former Potions professor. Squirming a bit at the realization, another non sequitur notion overtook the first, clearer now than when he was pressed against Severus' chest.

Mmmm... he's taller now... and stronger!

Eager to acquaint himself with the adult Severus Snape, Harry ran his palms along the sides of the man's firm back, feeling the larger, but still lean muscles beneath the thin white shirt constrict and flex under his inquisitive touch. He then slid his hands back up to wander over shoulders that felt broader than he remembered, letting his fingertips glide over the contour of each rigid curve. His roaming fingers soon found their way into his hair, threading through those soft, ebony locks and twisting around them. Harry was pleased to discover that their feel and scent had remained the same and he gripped the fragrant strands tighter as a sense nostalgic comfort washed over him, his heart swelling with remembrance and longing.

Severus withdrew from their kiss and wrapped his arms tighter around Harry, burying his face into his neck and breathing deeply.

"You smell the same. And you taste the same," he muttered against Harry's skin, lips brushing along the long column of his throat. "God, I... I've been such a fool. All these years... and you were right here."

Harry was about to say something, either in rebuttal of Severus' self condemnation or in accordance with his remark about their rekindled familiarity, but forgot his words when Severus once again concentrated all his seductive efforts on his most sensitive spot, thin lips closing around the warm skin beneath his ear and sucking it into his mouth, crooked teeth biting down lightly.

"Ah... Sev... Severus..."

Harry could feel his body reacting to the erotic stimulus, pleasure pulsing through him with increasing intensity, pooling in his abdomen, his slumberous length awakening.

With a feral growl and a compulsive tightening of long arms, Severus adjusted his position on top of Harry, shifting his hips so that their bodies were now perfectly aligned. The modified position caused their groins to press together, their erections colliding.

"Ha-Harry... I... Oh..." Severus panted, releasing the skin he had been pleasuring with such relish. He breathed several harsh, shaky breaths against Harry's jaw, lips trembling against his skin, before crushing their mouths together once more.

Harry responded to Severus' enthusiasm with some of his own, driving up into that eager mouth with avidity, his tongue pushing in and sliding along Severus' in a needy, intimate dance. His fingers twisted further around those soft strands of hair, gripping them tightly so as to pull their faces closer while he opened his legs, wrapping them around the back of Severus' thighs and pulling their bodies just as close. His racing heartbeat sped up further at the familiar sexual position, his thoughts falling back to their last instance of intimacy.

It had occurred recently from his perspective, but for Severus, it had been much, much longer. Too long. And now, in this moment of hesitant reconciliation, nothing mattered more to Harry than to give himself fully to Severus... to show him how much he loved him... how desperately he needed him... wanted him... desired him...

Those blissful ideas were put on hold however, when out of nowhere, a loud crackle of magic erupted in Harry's ears, the air rent with the ominous sounds of flaring flames roaring to life. Those sounds were followed a fraction of a second later by a dazzling red light, blinding enough to cause Harry's closed lids to snap open in momentary confusion.

A deep groan vibrated against his mouth. It was followed by a resigned sounding sigh as Severus withdrew from their heated kiss and climbed off of Harry, taking a seat beside him near the edge of the bed. He ran a hand through his mussed locks and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as if to temper the lingering bodily effects from their passion. When he opened them once more, his gaze immediately settled on a point at the far corner of the room, a contented expression emerging on his face.

Harry tried to follow Severus' line of sight only to frown when he realized that the Finite spell Severus used to return his true identity must have also negated Dumbledore's vision correction spell. His vision was once again that of Harry Potter – poor at close distances and hopelessly blurry at far ones. Frustrated, he blinked and squinted, desperate to make out the nebulous blob of scarlet a good distance away when a very familiar lyrical trill filled the room.

Feeling as though his heart might burst with emotion, anticipation coursing through him, Harry shot upright on the bed, his bleary vision straining to focus on the hazy red blur which was now coming into better view, approaching him with haste. He extended his arm just as the image became clear enough to decipher, his eyes transfixed on the familiar sight of majestic wings spreading and golden talons splayed, poised for repose on his outstretched arm.

When the great bird landed, it burrowed its vermilion head into Harry's neck, nuzzling him, a soft quavering chirr emitting from its golden beak.

Harry stroked the soft plumage covering its head and back while a profound contentment settled inside him, his harried mind slowing its quickened pace, his breathing deepening, gaze softening.

"He's been almost as eager for your return as I have," Severus said, his eyes trained on the phoenix that was now attempting to bury its head under Harry's arm, curling in on itself with wings tucked in. He raised his hand and placed it on the phoenix's curved back, letting his fingertips travel all the way down to the bird's long golden and red tail feathers which were coiled beside Harry.

The image brought another to Harry's mind – one that was recent, but vague and fragmented, like a flash of warped reality remembered through a disjointed dream. It was of those same slender fingers, bloodstained and trembling, as they trailed a slow, shaky path down identical red and gold feathers.

Feeling a new spark of understanding settle inside him, Harry gave Severus a nod, the corners of his mouth curving up in a small smile.

At Severus' gentle caress, Fawkes withdrew from his nestled position beneath Harry's arm and turned toward him. The phoenix's black eyes were bright and piercing as they stared into Severus' equally dark orbs while a soft, lulling warble emitted from the bird's throat.

"All right, Fawkes. Now that you've seen him with your own eyes and are assured of his safety, perhaps you could grant us a bit more privacy?"

Eyeing Severus with a look resembling indignant acquiescence, Fawkes jerked his wings open with a sharp snap and then launched himself into the air like a shot. He soared to the top of what looked to be the very high vaulted ceiling, before darting downward and disappearing in another burst of blinding red flames.

"Fawkes is yours," Harry whispered, feeling his throat tighten with emotion. His mind was inundated with images from his latest dip into lucid dreaming – the feather held tightly in his fingers while drops of shimmering gold fell like flaxen tears into the warm waters below... and Dumbledore, reiterating that the feather was not destined to be Harry's... that it would never be his... that its connection to him only existed because of his enduring love and loyalty to the phoenix's true owner.

Shaking his head to clear the dream images from his mind, Harry looked up into Severus' captivating dark eyes.

"I thought it would be me," he confessed. "The night I ran from you, after our defense NEWT, I spent that whole day and night in the library trying to research how a phoenix chooses a master. I was desperate to prove that Fawkes would choose me, that it was possible... even inevitable. God, it never even occurred to me that it could be you."

Severus looked down at his lap and nodded, a smile curving his lips. "Yes, Harry. He's my familiar now. But he's also yours," he said, ebony eyes lifting once more, seeking out Harry's bewildered green eyes.

"But–"

"Not in the traditional sense, no. By all Wizarding standards, he is my familiar, but you and I are bound, Harry. Bound by love and time and hardship. Our souls are one, our hearts in sync, our minds concurrent, analogous in emotional breadth and sensory understanding. Fawkes sees you and I as the same. Equals. Soulmates. Lovers. He understands–"

"He understands those individuals whose intention is derived from love and loyalty... and he answers their call for help," Harry finished, the words falling from his lips like fragments of restored memories. These words, just as poignant and profound as when they were offered to him a month ago in Dumbledore's office, now engendered another spark of tentative enlightenment to flare within him.

"But that's not all, is it?" he asked. "There's more to it. For Fawkes to have chosen you... you would have had to have undergone a soul reversal... an An– Anima Rev– Revo–"

"Revocatas. Anima Revocatas," Severus supplied, the corners of his mouth lifting higher upon hearing Harry's flawed Latin pronunciation. That amused grin dissolved into a somber frown a moment later as he lowered his gaze to his hands, something within those dark depths dimming.

"Yes," he answered, voice tight, drawn, "I did undergo what is known as Anima Revocatas. After you left, I was no longer the same. I was a hollow, gutted shell of what I once was. My soul... it was damaged... incomplete... wounded. And I was so angry... so filled with despair and loneliness. That bitterness and grief – that deep aching pain inside of me – it turned me into a hateful, contemptuous man, one who was willing to disregard love and faith and humanity and turn toward the darkness that lay in wait."

A surge of shame, caustic and cutting, accompanied Severus' confession, assailing Harry through their link with searing intensity. Inhaling a deep breath to steady the roiling emotional waves, he reached out to Severus and grabbed his hand, bringing it to his own lap and entwining their fingers.

"You don't have to feel such shame," he said, tugging lightly on Severus' hand to force his attention. "You already know that your past makes no diff–"

"But it does, Harry. My past does make a difference. And it was you who made that difference possible," Severus interjected. His eyes were once again trained on Harry's in an intense, piercing gaze. But this time, those pools of inky black whose depths emanated a profusion of shame only seconds ago, now shone with a brilliant gleam of awed regard. He brought a slender hand up to cup Harry's cheek, letting his fingertips trail along the flushed, tear-tracked skin. When he spoke once more, his voice was hushed, faint, reverent.

"You don't even realize, do you?" he whispered, his mouth curved up slightly in the beginnings of a new smile. "It was you, Harry – you, as Gray – who saved my life... who saved me in every way possible."

"But I didn't save you!" Harry argued, a sharp pang of remorse blasting through him, causing his chest to tighten and his gut to twist as he pondered Severus' survival... as well as his own failure to inspire it.

It was, after all, the most important, most crucial and fundamental reason why he went back in time in the first place – to save Severus from a horrible fate. Now however, Harry knew that it was not he who was responsible for saving Severus, whatever the man believed. No, it was Severus himself who had inspired his own fortuitous end by way of the twenty long years of suffering he had no choice but to endure – suffering that was so acute and traumatic, so debilitating, that it actually engendered a soul reversal. Severus' soul, damaged and incomplete in the wake of Gray's departure, had abandoned its foundation of love and goodness and peaceful intentions and instead, embraced the darkness lurking within him, aligning itself with the only emotions left to it… hatred, guilt and desperate despair.

Then at some point, Severus' soul must have reverted to its original emotional and ethical ideology. Nothing short of this could have called Fawkes to him and inspired the magical bird to not only save Severus' life, but to take him on as his master as well.

Anima Revocatas.

And Harry had done nothing to perpetuate that outcome. Nothing at all. The only thing he had ensured through his fateful journey back to the past, was his lover's prolonged suffering. Twenty years of it.

"You know, I'm fairly certain I don't even need to be soul linked with you in order to correctly interpret your feelings right now," Severus said, his voice soft but with a wry undertone. He turned more fully on the bed and grabbed Harry's free hand, closing their fingers together before speaking again. "You misunderstand."

"No. I do understand," Harry interrupted him. "I didn't save you; Fawkes did. And he did that because you were somehow strong enough to overcome your enduring pain, to banish your hatred and self-loathing and return to those beliefs you had once held so dear. You saved yourself, Severus."

Severus chuckled – a low earthy, baritone rumbling that, even in the emotional intensity of the moment, warmed Harry's heart and sent a thrill chasing up his spine.

"Didn't Albus teach you anything?" Severus replied, his mouth still turned up in that contented smile. "Magic is all about intent. And some of the very best and most powerful magic is generated through intentions of the heart... intentions of love."

At Harry's furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, he continued.

"Your mother's sacrifice to save you? An intention of love – one that was powerful enough to shield you from the killing curse, not once but twice. And it was during that second occurrence of your life being saved by your mother's love that you enacted your own intention of love, Harry. By walking into the Forbidden Forest with the intention of meeting your end so that others may be saved, you inspired a protective charm to be generated that was so strong, so impenetrable, that every single man, woman and child who had not yet fallen in the fight against evil was rendered safe, sheltered by your ultimate sacrifice."

Harry looked down at his own hands, held snugly within Severus' larger ones, while his mind grappled with the idea of intent and its practicalities in the magical world. Yes, intention was necessary, imperative even, but what intention had he effected that would qualify as being the inspiration behind Severus' survival, the impetus for his salvation? What had he done or said that had contributed to destiny's inexorable course?

Shaking his head in frustration, Harry released a heavy sigh, unable to see past his own guilt. "The only thing I did was hurt you," he whispered, his voice cracking, new waves of sharp regret settling in his throat. "All of your pain... it was my fault. I never should have taken that potion, destiny be damned! It made your suffering so much worse. It caused your soul–"

"It caused my soul to be wounded, yes. It did, Harry. So much so that I could not function the way I once had. But through it all, I held onto a part of you, a fragment of our love. And though it was buried deep inside my damaged soul, that part of you gave me hope and the motivation I needed in order to persevere, to keep going. Harry, if you insist on blaming yourself for the pain I endured then take the blame for the rest of it, too, I implore you. You consented to link your soul with mine when we drank the Retorquentis potion, did you not? You left me after that, to my pain, to wallow in what remained of my twisted, damaged soul, but before you left, my love, you demanded something of me. Do you remember what it was?"

Harry's heart was pounding now, Severus' words cutting him to the quick. He tried to grasp what it was Severus was asking him to recall, but his jumbled thoughts and churning emotions hindered all his attempts at concentration. Unable to speak, his heart a bleeding, anguished mess, he shook his head, lowering it as new tears formed at the corner of his eyes.

"You asked me... no... begged me to survive. You pleaded with me to, at all costs, find a way to live."

"Yes. I..." Harry choked out. He remembered now. Of course he did; for him, it had only occurred recently. "I... was desperate. I had no idea how to save you... and I was desperate."

"So," Severus continued, his voice taking on a familiar teaching tone, "you were responsible for linking with me, leaving me and then making me promise you that I would somehow survive... no matter what. Does that about sum it up?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, his voice quavering, burning tears of guilt rolling down his cheeks now, the pain in his heart almost unendurable.

"And now I ask you, Harry. What was your intention for all of it?"

Lifting his head, Harry focused his tearful gaze on those dark eyes, noticing the blazing look of fierce intensity radiating from their fathomless depths, love pulsing wildly through their link, his heart racing with swirling, unbridled emotions.

"Love. My intention was... love," he breathed, his whispered words trembling, catching in his throat.

"Yes, Harry. An intention of love. Don't you see? You were the one who engendered my soul reversal – my Anima Revocatas – by loving me and yes, by leaving me to endure the pain of your absence. Had I not undergone that crucial transformation of soul, had I not withstood the sheer amount of suffering needed to alter my course in life, then I never could have called Fawkes to me in the Shrieking Shack. And the final and most critical step to win a phoenix's loyalty – the return of one's soul to its original creed which can only occur if inspired by a profound, soulful love and under a condition of great sacrifice – could simply not have taken place."

'My inexorable love... my immeasurable sacrifice...' Harry whispered under his breath, repeating Dumbledore's enigmatic words from that terrifying dream he'd experienced in the library just a week ago. They were the same words that were written in one of those books he'd found about Phoenix motivation the very same night. The message behind them now seemed to bolster his current understanding.

His thoughts now lit up and racing inside his head, Harry remembered something else – something the real Dumbledore had written to him in a letter on his very first day in the past. In response to Harry's plea for answers regarding how to save Severus' life, the Headmaster had told him to follow his heart.

At that time, the sheer simplicity of the meager advice had prompted Harry to discount it, believing that the means to saving Severus must require a greater, more elaborate effort. Even after his second such meeting with Dumbledore, when the man had urged him to once again, let things happen and follow his heart, Harry obstinately ignored the man's counsel. Only during his final night in the past, having run out of ideas and having reached the end of his emotional tether, had he finally allowed his heart take the lead. If he hadn't, he might never have agreed to linking with Severus – a fact that suddenly caused a shock of deduced comprehension to seize him, his understanding deepening further.

"My God... the potion! If we hadn't taken it before I left–"

"Then I doubt my pain would have been severe enough to cause the soul reversal," Severus finished for him with a nod.

"But... but how did your soul finally revert back? I mean, I understand the bit about inexorable love... but what was your great sacrifice which completed the requirements for Anima Revocatas?"

At this, Severus' contented expression fell, his head lowering, eyes closing. The muscles in his throat tensed in another hard swallow. It was followed by a long, encumbered exhalation.

"I... resolved myself to living... to fulfilling my promise to you. That was my sacrifice. That was what brought about the fruition of my soul reversal and what ultimately, beckoned Fawkes to me."

Severus looked back up and met Harry's eyes once more, dark eyes pleading, as if begging for his understanding and acceptance.

"Harry, for a very long time – years, in fact – I wanted to die. What began as grief and despair soon manifested into intense guilt for all my transgressions and missed opportunities. That guilt was followed shortly thereafter by a self-hatred so crippling, so utterly prostrating, that not only did I convince myself of my unworthiness of you, I also came to the decision that when my foretold demise was upon me, I would simply... let it happen... deny your plea for my survival and surrender to what I had come to consider a fate well-earned."

Harry withdrew his hands from Severus' and brought them up to his face, fingers framing the high cheekbones. He opened his mouth to speak, hoping to soothe the waves of guilt and shame reaching him through their link, but was cut off as Severus continued his emotional profession, an uncharacteristic tremor to the man's normally self-possessed tone.

"When I saw you in the Shack – when I saw that you were Gray – I was overcome. I looked into your eyes, hoping to see some sliver of recognition reflected within their depths, but I saw nothing... nothing but fear and confusion. Upon realizing that our love had not occurred for you yet, I implanted that memory into your mind, desperate to pass on to you some paltry understanding of our love, some sense of what we were to one another. I blacked out not long after that, and when I awoke and found myself alone, I wished to be done with it... all of it... the pain and grief and wretched hatred that had embedded itself within my soul for so many years. In those moments, my already established longing for death was intensified, inflamed anew by the knowledge that I had wronged you so deeply, so profoundly and for so many years. I was convinced more than ever that I did not deserve you."

"Sev–"

"Please let me finish," Severus pleaded. His eyes fell shut and he breathed deeply as if trying to draw some measure of strength into his lungs along with the tremored breath. A moment's silence transpired, and then those dark eyes emerged once more, tears crowding their corners.

"I felt myself dying... fading away... and I knew my life was only moments from its predestined end. And I was ready, truly ready to meet that end, Harry, but then I remembered your parting plea. I could hear your voice echoing in my head, desperate words begging for my assurance that your impossible wish would be granted. And in that moment when death was upon me, when all my vitality and resolve seemed to have abandoned me and the only thing remaining was my memory of your urgent words, I suddenly knew – knew with every fiber of my being – that I must not give in... that I must fight. Despite my overwhelming fear and pain and faltering courage, a profound and irrepressible understanding began to take hold of me and I knew then that I must do everything in my power to live... to survive... for you."

Stunned into choked silence, Harry held Severus' tearful gaze, searching the black depths, needing to understand more fully. Undulations of love and devotion raced through him in that moment, pulsing and thrumming inside his chest alongside the thunderous, rhythmic beats of his heart. The dual sounds and sensations seemed to drown out his own quavering voice as he choked out words of burgeoning comprehension.

"Your resolution to live... it was an intention of love. Wasn't it?"

"Yes, Harry, it was. Different from yours in substance, yet comparable in spiritual essence and worth. It was the remaining act needed for Anima Revocatas... the motivation that inspired the completion of my soul's journey, allowing it to come full circle. Because of that intention of love – that decision to fight for a life of love instead of surrendering to an easy out – Fawkes was drawn to me... drawn to what, in the eyes of a phoenix, is considered to be an act of great sacrifice inspired by a timeless, enduring love."

"But..." Harry breathed, his throat tight with anxiety, fear of what might still remain of Severus' wish to give in to death gripping him, "but you said that you... that you wanted to die. Do you still–?"

"No!" Severus injected, eyes bright with resolve as he grabbed Harry's shoulders in a strong grip. "Harry, of all my regrets – and there are many – I will never regret choosing life... choosing you... never! And I don't ever want to be without you again."

Severus breathed out those last few words against Harry's lips as he leaned forward, arms lowering from his shoulders to wrap around his back. Just as he had done before, he maneuvered them both to lay back on the bed, his longer body stretched out on top of Harry's.

Severus' soft lips were suddenly firm and insistent as they latched onto Harry's own, inspiring their parting with an assertive prod from the man's slick, eager tongue. That tongue soon delved into Harry's willing mouth with vigor, exploring all that was offered to him, stroking Harry's tongue and swirling around it. Long fingers combed through strands of raven locks, grasping and twisting the short strands while he continued to deepen their kiss, intensifying it to the point of primal urgency.

Harry gasped when Severus' mouth moved its fervent assault from his lips to his jaw, his tongue sliding a slow, wet path from his chin all the way down to the soft, sensitive skin below his ear where skillful lips sucked and teeth nipped in a playful, yet emphatic endeavor of seduction. Arousal shot through Harry in heady waves of explosive, pulsing pleasure, his muscles taut, shaking, his skin hot and bristling with sensation.

Again, Severus readjusted his position, shifting his hips so that their erections were aligned. Tightening his grip around Harry's back, he drove his hips downward, sending a powerful rush of sharp pleasure through Harry's whole body.

"Oh! Oh Severus..." Harry panted, breathing hard, his voice low and husky. Dizzy with desire and desperate longing, he brought his hands up to Severus' hair, squeezing and pulling on the long stands, hoping to lure that talented mouth away from its hungry assault on his neck and back to his mouth.

Severus surrendered to Harry's prompting, devouring him in an exquisitely slow, driving kiss. The kiss was accompanied by a deep emotional outpouring through their open link – searing desire mixed with undying love and a desperate need to join, to be one in mind, body and soul.

"Yes," Harry murmured into Severus' mouth amid hot, heaving breaths and soul deep kisses, "Yes, please, Severus... I want you so much. Take me."

Severus released a low, guttural growl. The sound, coming from deep within that long throat, vibrated against Harry's wet lips in a rush of hot breath. Tightening his hold on Harry once more, Severus rolled them over, reversing their positions so that Harry was now on top. Slender hands came up to cup Harry's cheeks while ebony eyes stared into green ones with unyielding intensity.

"Harry..." Severus rasped, dark eyes suddenly vulnerable looking, hesitant, uncertain.

A sharp blast of correlating emotions assailed Harry only seconds later: anticipation, excitement, nervousness and barely-constrained desire.

"What, Sev?" Harry whispered. "What is it that you want? What do you need?"

"I want... I want you to take me this time," Severus breathed and then swallowed, thin lips parting to allow a tremulous breath to escape them.

"Please, Harry," he continued, "I want to feel you. I want to feel all of you. I need to feel you."

Without hesitation, Harry lunged forward, claiming Severus' mouth with wild abandon while his heart thrashed against his ribcage, arousal ripping through him, his mind brimming with excitement. The very idea of making love to Severus – of experiencing a whole new side to their sexual intimacy – filled him with so much desire, so much desperate yearning, that he found himself unable to think straight.

Eager to make Severus' request a reality, Harry continued to deepen their frenzied kiss. He drove his tongue further into the familiar wet heat of Severus' mouth, sliding it along his teeth and around his avid tongue in rapid, needy motions. Seeking to vary his sensual tactics and increase Severus' pleasure, he thrust his hips down in a rocking motion, forcing their bodies to pulse and grind together. His efforts were rewarded by a throaty moan of approval from his lover, the sound of which reverberated inside their joined mouths and against their lips.

The notion of clothing removal soon arose from the din of coital chatter echoing inside Harry's brain. In answer, he slid one hand down to the waistband of Severus' trousers, trying to unfasten the top button with impatient, fumbling fingers.

His awkward attempt was thwarted however, when Severus shifted below him, reaching over with his right hand to grab his wand from the small table beside the bed. The thin switch of ebony was then pointed at the both of them and before Harry could even inquire as to what spell Severus intended to cast, an incantation was muttered and seconds later, all their clothing was removed.

Harry blinked and then raised himself on straightened arms, staring down at Severus avidly and trying to take in every little bit of the man's nude form.

"Whoa! How did you–?!"

Despite his heavy breathing, Severus still managed a devilish smile.

"Mr. Potter," he purred, "may I remind you that I am no longer an eighteen-year-old, barely qualified wizard? Surely you must have realized that in the twenty years since our parting, I have acquired a number of additional spells... some with the potential of producing very pleasurable results."

Harry's thrilled grin was wide, even wider than Severus' wily smirk. It was short-lived though, amusement draining from him as a heavy, sickening dread slid into place in the pit of his stomach, burning like acid.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Severus asked, voice laced with surprise. He dropped his wand onto the bed and brought his hands to Harry's cheeks, coaxing his head up so that their eyes met. "What is this feeling I'm getting from you? Jealousy? But why–?"

"I... I had no right to assume..." Harry stuttered, his mouth suddenly dry, throat tight, his skin cold and hot all at once. "I'm... I'm sorry, Severus. Of course you've had other lovers. I... I can't believe I was stupid enough to think that I might be the only one! God, I've been so foolish!"

Sliding his arms around Harry's shoulders, Severus drew their bodies closer, forcing their bare skin to connect and their contours to meld and conform. He kissed one pink cheek and when Harry burrowed his hot face into the curve of Severus' neck, he pressed his lips to Harry's ear, whispering to him in a soft, lulling tone.

"My love, I can assure you, I have only ever been touched by one soul and he is in my arms right now. How could you ever imagine I would bed another... or even share so much as a kiss or a loving embrace with someone else... when my heart and soul is bound so readily to you? Foolish boy! Don't you remember? Our love is forever... past... present... and every moment in between. I have never known another's touch and I never will. For you, Harry Potter... Gray Skye... or whatever you wish to call yourself these days... you are my everything and my only."

Wonder and awe filled Harry at those words and he lifted his head to meet those blazing dark eyes head on. He knew that he himself could not abide to have another person kiss and love him after Severus had, but he was only seventeen and had not been separated from his lover for long. Severus had been alone for two decades, dragged down to the depths of despair and trapped in his hellish role as spy, facing mistrust and derision on both sides. He had the freedom, authority and the means necessary to ease his own pain, whether through alcohol or in a willing pair of arms. That he had not been involved with anyone else was a miracle in itself, no matter what the Retorquentis potion did, but that he had never even once sought comfort from another, even for momentary relief...

Harry wasn't surprised to find his eyes stinging, happy and relieved tears beginning to escape their corners and slide down his flushed cheeks. He leaned down so that their lips touched and their breaths coalesced, then whispered the only words he could manage to articulate with his throat still tight with emotion.

"I love you, Severus. I love you so much."

The kiss that followed was soft and gentle, intuitive of their renewed feelings of contentment, a mutual outpouring of careful attention and emotional release. Soon however, Severus took control, dominating the soft brush of lips, the easy caress of tongues and the teasing scrape and nipping of teeth. He held Harry tightly, guiding him deep into an intense fray of pleasure, only to pull back seconds later, lessening his playful attention to barely-there touches and tickling breaths.

Within a couple of minutes of this, Harry was breathing fast again, his heart hammering in his heaving chest and his erection rigid and digging into Severus' flat stomach. Deep, intense arousal was thrumming through his eager body like never before – his own pleasure and desire seemingly multiplied by Severus' through their link.

Wanting so badly to taste and touch and kiss every inch of Severus, he pulled away from that teasing mouth, opting instead to initiate his own game of controlled touches. He began by lavishing wet, hungry kisses down the length of Severus' scarred neck and then moved lower, raining attention onto the man's collarbone and the lean, clenching muscles of his chest. He paused upon noticing the smattering of dark hair where before there was nothing but smooth, pale skin, finding himself aroused by the variance. Sliding his fingers through the soft, fine hair, he explored the welcome change while his lips closed over a taut nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

Emboldened by the way Severus arched his back at the sensation, Harry moved onto the other nipple, running his tongue along the periphery but avoiding the hard peak, teasing it with hot breaths blown across the damp, puckered skin.

His efforts were rewarded with a low, needy moan, Severus' hands coming up to grip Harry's shoulders while he squirmed and wriggled in desperation. Harry gave in then, taking the hard nub into his mouth and sucking on it with equal fervor.

"Oh... oh fuck!" Severus cursed, releasing Harry's shoulders to grab fistfuls of the bed's comforter instead, his body shuddering with pleasure.

Harry continued his sensual attention, sliding his lips along the soft trail of black hair that led down to the man's quivering stomach and to his rock-hard erection. To his worshipping eyes, it seemed bigger, longer than he remembered.

"What do you want, Sev?" Harry asked, his mouth now pressed lightly to the man's inner thigh, tongue mapping out the contour of the trembling muscle beneath the soft, pale skin.

"Oh God, Harry... touch me, please?"

"With my hand? Or with my mouth?" Harry asked, thrilling to the blast of arousal and intense excitement that flooded him through their channel at his words.

A muffled sound, identifiable as neither a groan nor words, escaped Severus' parted lips as he threw his head back, eyes disappearing beneath their lids and teeth biting down on one trembling lower lip.

The absence of a distinct answer did not faze Harry in the least. He had known, with absolute certainty, what he intended to do to Severus from the moment the man had expressed his desire to be taken by him. Knowing that his love had spent years clinging to the memory of their one night of passion, Harry yearned to give him the chance to relive it, to experience it all again, but this time from Harry's perspective. Although it was true that Severus had felt a considerable amount of Harry's pleasure that night through their link, he wanted Severus to experience, firsthand, every ounce of exquisite mind-blowing pleasure that he had – the pure rapture of being caressed by a lover's mouth…. each and every erotic touch, loving caress and frenzied thrust of eager, readying fingers… and the almost spiritual feeling of emotional completion engendered from full penetrative love-making… the ultimate joining of body, mind and soul.

Determined to make this perfect for Severus, Harry set to work, wrapping his fingers around the base of the man's hard length and squeezing lightly. He brought his lips to within an inch of the exposed head and exhaled, letting his warm breath skim across the moist, sensitive skin. Encouraged by the soft whimper that spilled from Severus' lips and by the sight of his hands fisted in the now mangled comforter, Harry shut his eyes and lowered his mouth to the hot skin, closing his lips around it and sliding his tongue through the slightly bitter-tasting fluid gathered there.

An explosive burst of pleasure bolted through Harry just as a growl-like moan met his ears, Severus' hips shifting beneath him, the muscles in those lean thighs clenching. Harry took more of Severus into his mouth, his wet lips sliding down the smooth skin while his tongue continued to swirl and tease, his own hips bucking down into the mattress as tight ripples of mounting ecstasy met his every move, every slide and lick and taste, every squeeze. With his tongue pressed flat against the sensitive underside of Severus' hard shaft, he licked his way back up, lips and tongue and breath all caressing through the slow, sensual ascent.

"Ha-Harry... I can't... I... it's... it's too much..."

Severus' stammered, ragged words signaled his approaching climax, further evidenced by the tightening of those lean thigh muscles and the sharp, shallow breaths huffed out in between runaway groans of escalating ecstasy, his erection stiffening still further, like velvet sheathed steel in Harry's mouth.

Eager for the next step in this re-enactment, Harry withdrew his mouth quickly and then maneuvered himself to lie alongside Severus, sliding his left hand underneath his neck with fingers twisting around strands of dark hair. He kept a firm grip on Severus' erection with his right hand, stroking the hard shaft at a fast pace while he brought his lips to the man's ear, whispering the same words Severus had uttered to him during their last night together.

"Come for me, Severus. I want to feel you come."

As if on command, Severus' whole body snapped rigid, a sharp intake of breath drawn into his open mouth as his head was thrown back, eyes closing in pleasure. His hard member, still held tightly within Harry's firm grasp, thickened and pulsed as Severus' orgasm was unleashed, the warm fluid of his release splattering across his bare stomach as well as Harry's fingers.

A heady reverberation of coital pleasure blasted through Harry not a second later, a sensory storm of rapturous bliss tearing through every nerve in his body. He shuddered and gasped, the muscles in his abdomen and legs squeezing reflexively, fingers clenching and toes curling as the climactic echoes drew him closer... closer... so close...

"Ahhh... Oh my God!" Harry huffed against Severus' neck as his own orgasm, sharp and intense, charged through him like rolling waves of deep pleasure. He inhaled a shaky breath and held it, grinding his hips against Severus' side for friction as his fingers constricted around Severus' still pulsing erection.

A long, long moment of muscles trembling from bliss and brain suspended from thought followed, slowly replaced by muddled awareness. Harry's mind and body remained slow and sated until Severus started kissing him again, deep, strong driving thrusts of his tongue with lips pressing hard against his mouth.

Finally recalling his earlier intent and wanting to take control once more, to finish this inverse of their first time together, Harry pulled away from Severus' deepening kiss and maneuvered him to lay on his side, facing away from him. After propping himself up on his left elbow, he trailed the fingers of his right hand through the slick fluid glistening on Severus' pale stomach and then slid them down between the pale thighs, slipping one wet fingertip between the firm buttocks.

"I've wanted this for so long, Harry," Severus whispered, voice low and dark, husky with need. He bent his right leg and lifted it, bringing his knee upward so that his foot was now flat on the bed, allowing Harry better access. "Please... touch me. I want to feel you there."

Applying gentle pressure, Harry slid the tips of his slick fingers back and forth until he felt Severus' tight opening, the puckered ring of muscle twitching and quivering under his intimate touch. He pushed his middle finger into the slight resistance he felt there and backed off, massaging the area in slow, wet circles. He repeated each sensual step several times until he could feel the tautness in that clenching muscle ease and his finger was finally able to slip into that hot channel undeterred.

"Fuck!" Severus rasped through a shaky release of breath, his inner muscles squeezing around the foreign addition.

Worried he had pushed in too soon, Harry began to withdraw his finger. He halted its removal almost immediately however, when an intense surge of pleasure and anticipation and longing washed over him, giving way to swift and eager understanding.

"Like that?" Harry whispered against Severus' neck as he scooted closer, bringing his chest flush to the man's scarred back, his finger pushing deeper into Severus' tight channel.

Severus answered in a rumbling groan of enthusiastic assent, his head falling back onto Harry's shoulder now, those slender hips bucking back into his hand for more.

Harry pulled the buried digit out and then thrust it back in, twisting his wrist and then curling his finger in search of that one spot he knew would send Severus' pleasure into reeling tremors of uncontrolled bliss, just as it had done to him. He soon found it – as evidenced by the ecstatic cry that escaped Severus' panting mouth – and then quickly rubbed and massaged the area, extending Severus' rapture until the man shuddered against him, torso arching back and hands fisting the bed sheets, a series of ragged, shallow breaths pushing past those thin lips.

"More?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through, his own untouched erection now pulsing with need and almost painfully hard again.

"Yes... yes, more..." Severus groaned, his voice strained and breathy, edged with raw desire.

Harry pressed his mouth to Severus' neck, his lips sucking and tongue licking the smooth, scarred skin. Slowly, he pulled his finger out from Severus' gripping entrance and then plunged it back in, this time with a second finger added, both twisting and angling, stroking and caressing. Encouraged by the uncharacteristic mewling and whimpering he heard at this adjustment, he started thrusting his fingers in and out, the movements eliciting a guttural howl of released elation from Severus' mouth, the man's hips thrusting back into Harry's hand. Spurred on by Severus' reaction, Harry quickened his pace, working his fingers in and out of that tight opening, hoping to loosen and stretch the clenching muscle.

Soon, Severus' whole body was writhing and shuddering against him, his every breath shallow and pulsing and his hips grinding back into Harry's rhythmic thrusts. The almost painful resistance Harry had felt around his fingers moments ago had lessened now, Severus' opening almost drawing him in, that spasming ring of muscle now gripping him with an exquisite amount of pulsating pressure.

Needing no further incentive, Harry withdrew his fingers and positioned the head of his slick member at Severus' entrance, his every thought focused on heightening his lover's pleasure, deepening both of their physical and emotional gratification. Sliding his left arm underneath Severus and then wrapping it around his chest, Harry rubbed and nudged the quivering muscle with his hard length, gasping at the friction on his sensitive head, slowly pushing against the lingering resistance he felt there until at last, that tight ring began to draw him in.

"Oh," Harry breathed out, his entire body shaking with pleasure. He slid in further, a slow, wet slide of hot compression that left him breathless and stammering, shock waves of ecstasy barreling through him at lightening speed. "Severus! You... God, you feel... incredible..."

"Mmm... move, Harry," Severus pleaded, "I need to feel you moving inside me."

After bringing his right arm across Severus' chest to complete their intimate embrace, Harry circled his hips a few times before pulling out almost all the way and then pushing back in at a slow pace. His mouth resumed its avid attention to Severus' neck, this time with frenzied kisses and urgent licks at the sweat dampened skin, his breaths coming out in increasingly ragged puffs as his own pleasure amplified to an almost uncontrollable level. Not wanting to hurt Severus, Harry repeated that same unhurried motion of his hips, driving in once... twice... and then a third time while he focused all his efforts on the seemingly impossible task of holding back his now rapidly approaching release.

"I don't feel any pain from you," Harry managed to voice, "are you... OK?"

"God, yes! You can go faster, but... but I want to see you, Harry. I want to see your face... your eyes... when you come."

Eager to comply, Harry pulled out of that glorious tight heat with a groan and positioned himself between Severus' open legs as the man turned to lay on his back. Leaning forward, Harry claimed his lover's mouth, his fingers taking their familiar place in between strands of dark hair. He let his weight fall onto Severus' warm, slick body as he deepened their kiss, pushing his tongue in and out with fervency while sharp coils of mounting pleasure tightened inside him, his body now pulsing and begging for release.

"Let me," Severus breathed against Harry's lips. He brought his right hand in between them, sliding it down past Harry's heaving chest and stomach to grasp his rock-hard length. A second later, he shifted, legs lifting to wrap around Harry's lower back and hips curving upward. He squeezed Harry's erection and then guided it back to his opening, moving the sensitive head up and down the slick skin in a slow, sensual, teasing caress that had Harry trembling and panting once again.

"You're so close, aren't you?" Severus huffed into his mouth, hot breath melding with his tremulous words.

"Yes... so close, Sev."

"Press into me. Slowly, love. Slowly. I want to feel all of you."

With meticulous and torturous protraction, Harry obeyed the request, pushing his hips forward gradually until he was fully sheathed inside Severus' welcoming warmth again.

Their bodies joined once more, Severus brought both hands up to hold Harry's face, placing his palms to his flushed cheeks, long fingers sliding into tangled hair. He pulled Harry down with a gentle tug so that their lips met, but no kiss followed the intimate connection. Instead, the brush of their warm lips engendered an amorous fusion of ghosted breath and the soft escape of contented sighs, the sharing of breath and voice intensifying the sensuality of the moment, transcending their emotional and physical connection to an almost ethereal level.

As their eyes met, black into green, Harry felt his heart open more than ever before, felt their souls embracing as their bodies trembled against one another, pounding hearts pulsing in married beats of quickened anticipation, minds fixed on their love... their past... their wide open future.

"I love you," Severus whispered, words pressed like feathered kisses of promise against Harry's lips. "I always have... and I always will, Harry. Forever."

"Yes, Severus... forever."

Their lips pressed together in a sudden and driving, desperate, emotional kiss. Severus clenched his inner muscles, tightening his already taut grip on Harry's sheathed length and then thrusting his hips upward, driving Harry deeper into him.

"SEV! Oh... Oh... Severus!" Harry screamed as a whirlwind of pleasure and rapturous bliss rocketed through him. His hips pushed and pumped and bucked downward, muscles constricting, his breath stunted, heart fluttering like a mad, caged animal in his chest as his orgasm unfurled and then exploded, his seed spilling deep inside Severus in rhythmic pulses and thrusts. At the same time, he heard a resounding primal cry and felt the hot fluid of Severus' release splatter across his stomach and his chest. The sensation was followed mere seconds later by the echoed stimulation of the man's ecstasy through their link, the intensity of which nearly ripped the erratic breath from Harry's straining lungs, his heart racing even faster.

Violent tremors surged through Harry and he trembled and jerked as he fell forward onto Severus' sated body, burrowing his face into his lover's neck while he tried to regulate his harsh, rapid breathing. He slid his arms around Severus' back and held on tightly, desperate for an anchor, for a respite from the maelstrom of overwhelming physical stimulation assailing him.

"Accio Nerve Regeneration Draught!"

Harry heard the incantation but was still surprised, lost within the throes of his disoriented stupor, when Severus swung them over, the movement causing their bodies to separate with a wet slide. Severus then dragged him up to lay back against his chest like before, another glass vial pressed to his lower lip.

"Drink, Harry," Severus said, still breathing hard. "Your nerves are experiencing too much sensation right now. Come on... that's it, love. All of it."

"Damn," Harry murmured, letting his head fall back onto Severus' shoulder after gulping down what tasted like the same bitter, grainy potion as before. Just like last time, the worst of his tremors stopped instantly and his breathing become deeper and slower, his heartbeat more even, calmer. "This hypersensitivity is just... bloody inconvenient sometimes."

"Hmm, yes. However, it will soon be a thing of the past. That was your second dose of the Nerve Regeneration Draught out of the required fourteen. Twelve more, taken twice daily as you've done already today, and by this time next week, your nerves will be fully healed."

Harry whipped around to face Severus, his eyes wide with shock. "But I thought... Madam Pomfrey told me there was no cure! She said..."

"I know what she said, Harry, but surely you must have realized that being in a relationship with a boy who was destined to be one of the Wizarding World's most renowned potions masters would have certain... benefits."

Harry found the sight of Severus' grin, a devious crafty smirk, absolutely heartwarming.

"You invented a cure for me?" he asked, unable to stifle his own grin now spreading across his face.

"Yes. I actually completed it midway through your first year at Hogwarts. I suppose a part of me never gave up hope that you would return to me," Severus added as he grabbed Harry's shoulders and turned him, coaxing him to lay back on the bed. "Now rest for a while. The potion requires a full ten minutes before it is completely absorbed into the nervous system, and since I administered your second dose of the day so soon after your first, I would not be surprised if you felt some dizziness. Go on – lie down. I'll not have you passing out on me again."

Harry did what was asked of him, his body still experiencing soft shudders as he brought his head to the pillow and tried to relax. With the most pressing of questions out of the way and his libido sated for now, other concerns came to the forefront of his mind.

"How long was I out after you found me in the forest?" he asked, suddenly realizing he had no idea whatsoever what time it was… or even what day it was, for that matter.

"About five hours. I cleaned and healed all your wounds and then waited for you to awaken," Severus replied, coming back to lay beside Harry after placing the empty potion vial on the bedside table. He drew back the rumpled comforter and sheets from beneath Harry then climbed in and covered them both with the warm bedclothes.

"You bathed me too... and re-dressed me," Harry added, his smile growing at the image of Severus caring for him so tenderly.

Severus' cheeks warmed with subtle pink, his proud smirk turning into a shy grin before falling slightly, his brow furrowing in concern.

"I felt and... saw... everything you experienced out there," he whispered, eyes lifting to lock with Harry's. "I'm sorry. I never realized the link would delay... or rather, pause in its re-connection so as to catch up on moments lost to it. You should never have had to go through–"

Harry could feel the wave of guilt through their connection, despairing and remorseful. He nodded fervently.

"Yes, I should have, Severus," he interjected. "We're linked, remember? Heart and soul... emotionally and sensorily. It was horrible to go through that, but I'm not sorry. I would do it all again in a heartbeat, not only because I deserved it–"

"You didn't deserve it!"

"Wait – let me finish," Harry insisted. He reached out for Severus, wrapping his arms around the man's shoulders and pulling their bodies close as he brushed his lips to those soft, thin ones whose touch and feel sent shivers of resounding warmth through him.

"I would do it all again because it helped me to understand what you went through, Severus... your journey... your pain. Glimpsing your grief, feeling it, suffering through it – it allowed me to comprehend the depth of your love and loss, to mourn along with you. And as gut-wrenching as it was to witness your anguish, I feel as though it has strengthened my love for you, deepened it. I have never loved you as much as I do at this very moment."

Those soft lips pressed forward, kissing Harry with exquisite tenderness – a kiss that spoke of unconditional love, rekindled and requited.

Harry pulled away to breathe and focus his thoughts. That steady pulse of love thrumming inside him was flaring, causing their shared emotions to swell within him and his mind to drift toward distraction. He did his best to resist and at length, his emotions settled, allowing his thoughts to return to his ordeal in the forest.

"It was a good thing you found me when you did, though," Harry added, head falling back onto the pillow. "I'm not sure my body could have taken much more of that."

"Yes. It was also fortunate that you were so close by when I was finally able to locate you through our link. Had you been much further away, I might have been forced to Apparate us back here. Given the severity of your mental and physical distress, I am not certain you would have been able to withstand Apparition."

Severus rolled over from where he had been resting on his side to lay on his back, pulling Harry along with him, his arms closing around Harry's back to draw him nearer.

Releasing a contented sigh, Harry laid his head on Severus' chest, listening to the steady thump of the man's strong heartbeat, relishing the rhythmic evidence of his love's perseverance as much as the mingled scents of their sweat and passion. He closed his eyes and let the ripples of unadulterated peace wash over him until the significance of Severus' words finally sank in and lifted his head, green eyes widening as they connected with black ones.

"Um... Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Where... where is here... exactly?"

Severus chuckled, a deep robust, baritone laugh that caused his chest to heave and the corners of his mouth to curve up into a genuine grin, dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

"And what, pray tell, did you imagine I have been up to for the last month during your little time venture? Hm?" he asked, his smile growing. "Did you honestly envision me just sitting around on my arse, awaiting your return while doing nothing in preparation for it?"

Harry took a moment to contemplate Severus' question, realizing with a pang of remorse that he had not once thought about what Severus had had to endure during his month-long absence. Now he couldn't stop the slew of distressing questions assailing him, each one more worrying than the last...

Did Severus suffer any lingering pain after Fawkes healed him in the Shack? Did he tell anyone else about his survival... and if so, is his loyalty still in question? Is he still in danger of being arrested and sent to Azkaban for his perceived crimes against the Light?

Severus must have understood his escalating anxiety through their link for his amused expression soon faded away, his brow furrowing with concern.

"It's not nearly as dire as whatever it is you're allowing yourself to imagine, love," he said, propping himself up on his elbows so as to look Harry in the eye, his hand coming up to caress Harry's cheek comfortingly. "I recovered from Nagini's attack almost immediately, thanks to Fawkes' tears and the numerous vials of blood replenishing potion I summoned once I had the strength to lift my wand. Within a few hours, I had reached out to Minerva and explained to her the details regarding my survival. I was relieved to learn that she already knew of my loyalty to the Light, thanks to your little speech given just before finishing off the Dark Lord. After a few meetings with Kingsley, our newly instated Minister, I was cleared of all charges. I had planned on spending the remaining time until your return assisting Minerva and the other professors in rebuilding Hogwarts' damaged halls and re-establishing its fallen wards, but the Ministry deemed my life to be in danger with so many Death Eaters still at large. Since Hogwarts' wards were not yet fully restored, the Ministry insisted that I find alternate housing until the threat against my life was remedied. A Ministry-approved safe house, one that was unplottable and under the Fidelius Charm, was offered to me, but I had other ideas."

Harry had lost track of things at some point during Severus' explanation as a new wave of sickening dread began to wash over him. Death Eaters still at large? Hogwarts in disrepair with fallen wards? The sudden revelation that he had essentially abandoned the Wizarding World when it had needed him most hit him like a ton of bricks and he swallowed hard past the lump of painful regret lodged in his throat, that initial dread now spiraling into a surge of suffocating guilt.

"Harry, It's all right, love. You've nothing to feel guilty about. I have apprised both Minerva and Hagrid of your mission, as well as the Weasley family and Miss Granger, and they all support your decision to travel back to the past to save me. Unfortunately, the rest of the Wizarding World has been chomping at the bit for a glimpse of you so a public appearance had been scheduled for next week. The official word is that you've been too busy to make one earlier because you've been assisting with the Hogwarts reconstruction effort. Speaking of which, Minerva assures me that the castle will be back to its previous grandeur by the new school year. Half the wards have been recast by a team of Ministry warding specialists and a large portion of its walls and rooms repaired by the professors."

Severus sat more upright, adjusting both their positions so that they were now facing one another. He pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's forehead, his hands cupping Harry's cheeks as he spoke again.

"Harry, Hogwarts is on the mend, as is the entire Wizarding World which is free to flourish and prosper now that it is rid of Voldemort's regime of fear and tyranny. And it's all because of you, love. Don't you dare feel bad about your absence."

Harry looked deeply into those ebony eyes so filled with love and felt his anxiety lessen, those waves of guilt beginning to melt away at the sincerity in those dark depths. Feeling much more at ease, he cleared his throat to alleviate the residual tightness he felt there and then gave himself a mental shake, trying to gather his thoughts and focus them back on his original query.

"So... so this place? It's an unplottable Ministry safe house?"

"It's unplottable, yes, but it's not one of their safe houses. I've spent the bulk of the last thirty days rebuilding the cottage on the very spot as its predecessor, though I have made some improvements."

Severus leaned back against the headboard, turning Harry along with him so that he could lean back against his chest again while he proceeded with his narration. One arm gestured toward various points of interest around the room as he described their surroundings.

"I didn't bother using white quartz for the walls. Instead, I framed the structure with limestone slabs and beams made from redwood. The hearth is now in the corner of the open space, rather than being centrally located as it was before. I also doubled the size of the old kitchen, added a much larger bathroom with a workable tub and shower and created an additional room, just off the kitchen, that will serve as my potions lab and research facility."

Harry looked around, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on the blurry shapes about the room. He wished he could remember where on earth he had left his glasses, but soon determined that he hadn't seen them since that first day in Dumbledore's office. Perhaps they were stowed in his school bag, which he assumed must be somewhere close by since Severus had retrieved the Elder wand from it earlier. At present however, locating his bag among the sea of blurry objects in front of him, seemed just as impossible as deciphering the cottage's new floor plan.

Severus gave another amused chuckle, obviously aware of Harry's predicament. Reaching over to the other side of the bed, he snatched up his wand again, pointed it directly at Harry and articulated a vaguely familiar incantation.

"Visivae Claritatem!"

At once, a swirl of strong magic surrounded Harry and he clamped his eyes shut, squeezing his lids together against the slight burning in his retinas. The uncomfortable sensation soon abated however, and when he opened his eyes, he was pleased to discover that his vision was once again crystal clear.

Better able to discern his surroundings, Harry scanned the room, eager to take in every detail of the new space but soon found himself staring in stunned silence, gaping at the wondrous sight.

The size of this new cottage was at least twice the size of the previous one, its walls consisting of several massive rough-cut grey and white striated stones. Each stone slab was girded with high pillars of dark red wood that extended all the way up to a high vaulted ceiling which was was traversed by several broad beams made from the same dark wood. Bookshelves were cut into the very rocks comprising the walls, stretching across the entire back of the cottage from floor to ceiling, each one lined with books.

A magnificent stone hearth was set into the far corner of the room with a high golden perch, presumably for Fawkes, positioned just beside it. Surrounding the hearth was an enormous wrap-around couch made of dark brown leather, two matching chairs and a long organic-looking cut from what must have been a massive redwood tree, lacquered and fashioned into a coffee table.

The kitchen was larger than the last one and was laid out in a similar fashion with Muggle appliances lining one counter. Beside the kitchen were two closed doors which Harry assumed led to Severus' potion lab and the bathroom. The cottage's entryway, like the kitchen, was similar to that of the old cottage featuring the same kind of towering gothic arched door made from oak and flanked by two twin bay windows, one on either side.

Harry's wandering gaze returned to the bed they were sitting on. It was situated in the corner opposite the hearth and just as it had been previously, the sleeping quarters remained open within the spacious room. Now however, the bed was a four-poster with velvet hangings of rich burgundy drawn loosely into ties at the head of the bed which could be utilized for privacy when desired.

Although much more expansive, this cottage somehow felt cozier than the old one, rich in warm details and comforting touches, a feeling of home, safety and tranquility radiating throughout the entire space.

"The garden, I'm afraid, is still a work in progress," Severus added, gesturing toward the closest bay window, "and I haven't had time to even consider plans to build a new bird sanctuary, though I'm not entirely sure Fawkes would be as keen on an outdoor living space as Solus was. He's a bit more... well... finicky about his living quarters. The blasted bird refused to perch on the wooden perch I fashioned for him until I plated the wretched thing with gold. Now he seems delighted to waste a whole afternoon snoozing on it."

Harry hardly heard Severus' derision about Fawkes. His heartbeat had begun to pick up speed again, his skin feeling flushed and tingly with nervousness. He turned his head to meet Severus' eyes which were staring back at him with such love, such abiding affection and promise, that Harry felt as though his heart might burst with emotion, the quickening beats of which now felt as though they were pounding in his throat. He opened his mouth in an attempt to articulate the mingling of tentative hope and driving excitement that was currently surging through him, clouding his senses, but the only thing he could articulate was the man's name, choked out in a rush of strangled breath.

"Se-Severus?"

The warm, wet feeling of fresh tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks took Harry by surprise, despite his current bout of warring emotions. He tried to blink the tears away, his head lowering to conceal them from view, but Severus would have none of it. He placed his hands on Harry's damp cheeks and applied gentle pressure to lift his lowered head, dark eyes locking with green ones when Harry finally looked up. Then Severus spoke, his voice a bit shaky, but his words steady in resolve and sure in sincerity.

"Harry Potter… my inexorable love... my immeasurable sacrifice... my intention of love... I built this cottage for us – for you and me – and after twenty years of enduring your absence, love, I don't wish to spend one more moment of my life without you by my side. Please, Harry, say that you'll live here with me. Say that you'll help me make this space our home... that you'll stay with me for the rest of our lives and–"

Harry lunged forward, cutting off the conclusion to Severus' impassioned speech as he pressed a desperate, frenzied kiss to the man's mouth.

"Yes!" he exclaimed in between several more kisses. "Yes... God, Severus, you don't even have to ask me that but yes... I'll live here with you and yes... I want to spend the rest of my life with you!"

Harry withdrew from their ardent kisses to gaze deeply into those emotive ebony eyes, losing himself in the boundless warmth and affection emanating from their soulful depths. That steady pulse of love inside him flared with new intensity and purpose as he held that dark gaze. Its rhythmic cadence, like a whispered chant of emphatic assent, seemed to cool the caustic embers of their incendiary past – a past fraught with guilt and heartache and misunderstanding – while sparking a new flame of promise to flicker and stir within the depths of both their bonded souls.

It was the promise of healing...

A promise of emotional renewal and restoration...

A promise of enduring passion and abiding devotion...

But most of all, it was the promise of a lifetime of love.

"Forever, Harry?" Severus whispered against Harry's lips, his arms once again wrapping around his back and pulling him close.

Harry responded without hesitation, voicing his answer in a single, heartfelt word – simple in meaning, yet abound with beautiful possibilities.

"Always."

Chapter End - TBC

A/N: Sorry, everyone, for the week-late posting, but it truly could not be helped. My life is only now starting to get back to a more manageable stress level as my last few months have been extremely busy. I do hope this chapter was worth the wait however – it certainly was a long one! :)

A huge thank you to YenGirl for tackling this monster of a chapter. Yen, your willingness to spend your time and talents to beta my chapters is appreciated more than I can say. And I know this one in particular, with its excessive length and mind-numbing complexity, was quite a bear! THANK YOU!

If you hadn't already figured it out, this marks the last full-length chapter of GSM. The story is not entirely finished however, as there will be an epilogue posted next. Rest assured, the epilogue shouldn't take as long to post as previous chapters because it will be shorter. So, stay tuned!

I'd like to extend a very heartfelt thanks to everyone who has favorited and reviewed GSM over the course of this fic. I appreciate your support and all your words of encouragement very much. ;)

Please Review.