Eeeeeee, sorry this has taken literally forever? I told you I needed someone to keep me on track. Anyway, here it is, and I do have way more time now to work on it so hopefully that will help. Hope you enjoy it!

Xo, S.

He sat with his elbows on the desk, head buried in his hands, and sighed heavily. "I don't know," he said for the fourth time, all but snarling the words as the last of his patience slowly dwindled away.

A small hmph sounded from the man across the desk. He looked up. "I believe you know more than you think you do, Severus," Albus said reasonably, looking over his steepled fingers. Honestly, Snape found the man infuriating on a good day, and right now he was fighting a rather strong urge to throw something at those stupid, twinkling blue eyes.

"I've told you all that I know, Albus," he answered, exasperated, falling back against his chair with a defeated sigh. "I don't know exactly what's happened, he won't tell me. All I know is that the brat was sleeping again when it happened."

"It worries me that the Dark Lord forgoes telling you," Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his temple lightly while he thought.

"He does not tell me everything, Albus, you should know this. He has told no one. It comes as no surprise that I am left in the dark," he said dismissively. He was positive that no one in Voldemort's ranks had learned of his position.

"And Harry wouldn't tell you?"

Snape snorted.

"Right, you wouldn't have tried that, would you?" Albus said sadly, voice holding a touch of bitterness. "He is a nice young man, Severus,"

"Skip the sentimentality, Albus. No, he didn't tell me. And I'm willing to wager on his answer had I asked,"

"Hmm," the older man mused, leaning back and stretching his fingers. "Yes, well. I may have to go pay him a visit in that case. The Order meeting is in two days time, correct?"

"Unfortunately," Snape muttered, rolling his eyes, unable to keep the sneer off his face at the very thought. Not that he put in much effort to. He knew damn well that Dumbledore knew exactly when the meeting was, the question was simply a reminder that Severus himself had no choice but to attend.

"Tea?" Dumbledore offered, getting up and moving to stand by the silver tea tray next to the window.

Snape waved away the offer, pondering their situation. Dumbledore stood by the window, surveying the grounds mildly as Severus began to speak.

"I've never seen him so angry. He could barely even stand still, pacing back and forth. His eyes..." Snape took a breath, "He's seen something, Potter has. He just won't tell us what. I think Lucius knows, however; he's shifty and nervous, pale. More so than usual. What though, what did Potter see?" he said sharply, spitting the words through his front teeth in frustration.

Dumbledore sipped his tea casually as he walked back to the desk. "Perhaps it is time to revisit the idea of Occlumency," he mused, sitting down once more and swirling his tea slowly as he stared into his cup.

"How did I know..." Snape sighed. He shook his head, trying not to glare too severely at the man. "It is nigh impossible. You should have seen the last time-"

"Severus," Dumbledore cut in sharply, genial tone slipping slightly, "Do you mean to tell me you tried your hardest, honestly? I like to think I know you better than most, and you'd do well to show that to others. If you just tried, Severus."

"Let's not make this about me, Albus," Snape growled. "If the boy wasn't so incompetent and pretentious-"

"You know you are the only one I've ever heard describe him in such a way?" Dumbledore mentioned conversationally, cutting him off. He sipped his tea. "I do believe you may be seeing what you wish to see, and nothing more, my boy," he lectured, raising a silver eyebrow as blue eyes met black.

"You weren't there, Albus, he was a little prat," Snape said flatly, face expressionless as he held the Headmaster's gaze.

"Yes, well, I think the fault lies not only with Harry, but with both of you. I doubt you were cordial, Severus," Albus stared hard at him over his glasses. "He will only respond in kind. However," he raised a hand, stifling the objection Snape had started to raise. "I also think the issue cannot be ignored any longer. It is only a matter of time before Voldemort finds another way to utilize this connection, however careful we may be this time. Occlumency is a necessity, and you are the only one I deem skilled enough to teach him sufficiently. You will do this, Severus," he said, leaving no room for argument.

"Yes, sir," Snape mumbled, slouching back in his chair in resignation, but not losing the scowl that had formed during Dumbledore's little speech. It was no use arguing with the man, he would never win.

"Until we learn more of what transpired between Harry and the Dark Lord, we've said all that can be said on the matter. Now, Severus, how are you faring since you've returned back to Spinner's End?"

They dissolved into frivolities as the morning sun came up over the Forbidden Forest.

"Harry," a soft whisper came from the side of his bed. He rolled over and hugged his pillow to him, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and huffing.

"Harry," the whisper came again, this time louder. "Harry, come on. Breakfast is ready, you should eat." He recognized the voice as Charlie's. He opened his eyes reluctantly, staring at the wall across from sighed lightly. Of course it was Charlie. The older Weasley probably knew Harry would listen to him before he listened to anyone else.

A soft hand rested on his upper arm. "It's fine, mate. It's just Snape, he's always been a bit, well..." he trailed off. Harry contemplated all the ways in which he could have ended that sentence. "Look, just forget it. The Order will be here tomorrow and we wanted to get in a run to Diagon Alley before then. Kinda the last day just to have some fun, you know,"

Harry sat up and looked at the redhead, unable to fully muster the glare that he had intended. "I don't quite feel like it," he said shortly.

"Come on, Harry, you wouldn't leave me alone with that lot would you?" Charlie smiled hesitantly, knowing Harry was likely to go anyway.

Harry glowered, cursing his soft spot for the older Weasley brother. Since he had moved into Grimmauld Place, Charlie was the only one outside of Ron, Hermione and Lupin who seemed to really care about whether he was doing ok. He couldn't tell why Charlie had a sudden interest in his well-being, but Harry wasn't about to complain. They had always gotten along well at family gatherings, maybe Charlie just wanted to get to know him. Whatever the reason, he was thankful for the friendship they had developed. Charlie always seemed to be there whenever he needed; Charlie always seemed to be whatever he needed. He couldn't count the nights he had let him yell and scream at him, usually dissolving into tears and apologies as the redhead simply held him, not saying a word. On the rare occasion they would share a bed, and Harry had to admit, if only to himself, he had never had better sex in all his life. He was attracted to him, sure, but he didn't want to be with him. He had a strange relationship with the man, indeed, but he also knew he could deny nothing he asked of him.

He stopped pondering their situation, knowing he could sit there for hours and not reach any new, bright ideas. He shook his head slightly, not that it really mattered all that much either way. He looked over his shoulder at the small smile and shook his head. "I don't know," he looked to the door, as if he could already hear all the awaiting questions from the Order members downstairs. He shuddered, looking down at his lap.

"Come on, mate. It wasn't you, you didn't do anything; just forget him. Snape-"

"Stop. Charlie, just," Harry sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "It was me. I had a dream the other night, and it, I don't know, it was like the old ones. I heard his plans, I... he saw me, and he was so angry. I could feel it. And it felt like, if I hadn't woken up, if he had gotten to me in time..." he trailed off, shaking himself. He didn't want to think about that. "I don't know what I've done," he whispered, holding his head in his hands.

Charlie was silent for a minute before getting up and sitting on the edge of Harry's bed. He gripped his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "It'll be okay, Dumbledore will be here, he'll know what to do. It'll be okay,"

"Yeah," he sighed, leaning his head on Charlie's shoulder. Although Charlie really had no idea about the sort of thing Harry was talking about, he let his words cheer him up slightly for the time being.

"I'll go down first and tell them not to mention it," Charlie murmured after a while, gently leaning out from under Harry.

"Ugh," he groaned, letting himself fall back on the bed as the other man stood up.

Charlie chuckled lightly as he left, closing the door quietly behind him. Harry got out of bed, shuffling around his room, trying to find a clean shirt. He would have to do laundry soon, the cleaning spells just weren't the same after two or three times. He picked up an old muggle band tee shirt he had gotten in London one summer, deeming it seemingly clean enough. He looked himself once over in the mirror, shrugging. What did it even matter?

He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and headed downstairs slowly, not really wanting to get there. He paused on the platform above the kitchen, listening intently. He could hear soft murmurs and laughter coming from the others as they ate, accompanied by the gentle sounds of silverware on dishes. As long as he stood there, however, he heard nothing about himself or Snape. He could kiss Charlie. Maybe later he would.

He took a deep breath and descended the rest of the stairs, pushing open the door in one swift motion. There was a small lull in conversation as everyone turned to look at who had joined them, but after a few smiles and a nod from Remus, they all continued with whatever they had been talking about. He shot a quick glance at Charlie, who simply winked at him.

He took a spot next to Mrs. Weasley, summoning an empty plate and piling it high with everything he could reach. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he sat down.

"That's an appetite I like to see, dear. You could use some fattening up," she cooed over him, making the rest of the Weasley clan snicker behind their hands.

He rolled his eyes, muttering, "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," as he began to shovel into his scrambled eggs. Some things never changed.

"So, Diagon Alley, yeah?" Ron asked, looking around the table. Everyone nodded, excited at the chance to get out of the house.

"I could use a new set of robes," Harry mused, "and Hedwig needs treats, she keeps biting my ear when I get up," his eyebrows came together as he rubbed absentmindedly at the top of his left ear.

"Get a cat," Hermione suggested, trying not to laugh as she watched him. He grimaced.

"Please, don't," Ron pleaded, earning himself a smack on the shoulder. They all laughed, dissolving into light chatter as they finished their breakfast.

They spent the day in Diagon Alley, picking up new robes, a few new books, and assorted necessities for the meeting, such as quills, ink, and a few new bottles of firewhiskey. "We'll have our own after party, eh?" Ron had bumped his arm, wiggling an eyebrow. Harry had thrown an extra bottle in, knowing he would need one that night if he was to get through it. He enjoyed the time he had with them outside of the house. The weather was warm and dry, and it lifted all of their moods. Days like that were few and far between for him anymore. Not that it was anyone's fault in particular, but it still sometimes got to him.

They got home just before dinner, which was happily bubbling away on the stove, as Mrs. Weasley had come home early to start cooking for the lot of them. Charlie and Bill stopped to give her a kiss on the cheek as they walked by.

There were a few new faces; Mundungus Fletcher, Kingsley, Dean, Thomas and Seamus had decided to stay the night for the meeting the next day, and Hagrid had shown up for dinner again.

After a rather loud and boisterous dinner they moved into the family room, Ron ducking in to get the first round of firewhiskey.

"Let's not think about the meeting tomorrow," he announced, conjuring up a set of glasses for all of them. The twins hurrahed loudly as he passed them out, filling each generously. Harry looked around, laughing once at the overwhelming percentage of red hair in the room.

"I say we get pissed enough that they have to cancel it," he grinned, only half joking.

"Dumbledore's sent over enough Hangover remedies to cure a small army," Bill laughed, "'Fraid we're not getting out of this one,"

There were slight grumbles and harrumphs mixed in with the laughter at that, before Seamus raised his glass, saying "Then I say we get pissed enough that for tonight we forget that there even is an Order of the Phoenix,"

"Hear, hear!" Harry laughed, raising his own glass as a salute, before taking a swig. He exhaled sharply at the familiar burn as it made its way down his throat, reveling in the heat.

They soon lost count after two and a half bottles had been emptied, and somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped the older members were good at silencing charms. Harry couldn't ever remember Exploding Snap or Chess ever being dangerous before, but somehow he kept finding himself ducking as pieces whizzed past his head, smacking into the wall and shattering.

They drank well into the early hours of the morning, slowly dropping in numbers as games ended and people retired to bed, until it was just the twins, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Charlie, Seamus, Dean, and Thomas left in the big living room.

"Wha' time 'sssit?" Seamus muttered, rubbing a hand lazily over his eyes as he swayed in his spot by the fireplace.

"Dunno, mate," Ron answered, looking at Hermione, who was considerably less drunk than the rest of them.

"Probably time for bed," she answered, standing up and grabbing Ron's elbow to help him. He staggered away, leaning heavily on her as he draped an arm around her shoulders. They heard him muttering I love you's and You're so pretty's all the way up the staircase, followed by a loud thump, a sigh and a tired "Ronald," from Hermione, and then the slamming of their door.

Harry chuckled lightly, yawning as Seamus, Dean and Thomas all took their leave as well, heading up to the attic where the three of them were bunking together. He watched them go, squinting in an attempt to see clearer. He reached up to double check he still had his glasses on. He supposed he might be a little more drunk than he had first assumed.

"And then there were two," Charlie said quietly, getting up to sit next to where Harry was curled up on the couch. Harry could feel the warmth of his body, and he closed his eyes momentarily, breathing deeply. He could already smell him, the scent of pine and ashes mixed, tonight, with whiskey. He could already feel the deep pull in his stomach. He grinned to himself.

"Mmm," he muttered quietly, emptying the last mouthful in his glass and staring into the empty fireplace. Somewhere along the line someone had decided a fire was probably a bad idea and doused the one they had going. He vaguely thought it might have been Lupin. He'd have to thank him for that in the morning. If he remembered.

His now empty glass was taken out of his hand, and he looked hard at Charlie, who simply chuckled under his breath before depositing it on the end table and scooting closer to him, placing a warm hand over his knee. Harry hummed lightly, leaning closer to the redhead, as he started to trace small circles with his thumb.

Charlie smirked, brushing a few stray hairs away from his face before leaning in further, until Harry could taste his breath as it passed over his lips, as he whispered, "Tired?"

"Mmph," he scowled, impatient, and he brought his mouth up to meet Charlie's. He could feel a small rumble of laughter as it moved through the other man's chest, and he uncurled himself from his position on the couch, only to recurl himself around Charlie, wrapping his arms around his neck as his legs found purchase around his waist.

Charlie wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, picking him up as he was from the couch and carrying him across the room and up the stairs, never breaking their kiss. Harry bit his lip, reveling in the strength he had gained from his time spent with dragons. When they got to the landing outside of Harry's room, he shoved him roughly against his door, moving his mouth to leave hot kisses down his neck, which pulled a low growl from somewhere deep within Harry's chest.

He knotted one hand in the red hair, the other one fumbling behind his back for the door knob. The door finally gave way, and Charlie stumbled over to the bed, depositing Harry onto the soft comforter and climbing on top of him in one impressively fluid movement, considering the amount of whiskey they had consumed. He placed his hands on either side of Harry's shoulders before bending to resume his work.

Harry stroked a hand down his stomach, fumbling with the hem of his shirt, cursing quietly as Charlie refused to stop licking his neck.

"You sure?" Charlie mumbled against his collar bone, as Harry finally grabbed enough fabric to lift it over his head.

"Always," he muttered back, pulling him roughly back down for a kiss. Charlie let loose a small moan in the back of his throat, and Harry smiled wickedly.

He would have fun tonight.

PS sorry if you were excited over smut, I will get to that but I wanted to wait for the real pairing to get into that, and not waste it here! xoxo