A/N: Hey there guys. Sorry about the wait, but I have been busy these last couple of days, so here is the next chapter. For those of you who have read my other story, Angels of Frost and Flame, I has been adopted by the wonderful Amy Eaton, that is her pen name, and she has posted the first chapter. Now, for those wondering why Hermione is in the character bar, she will return later, and she will be important.
Reviews for constructive criticism is welcome.
-Line-Break-
He dreamed of high, cold and cruel laughter, a snake like face, crimson red eyes and betrayal from the one he called brother. He dreamed of sickly green lights, a once majestic castle, now lying in ruins, his godfather, falling through the Veil, of his friends lying dead in the Great Hall after the Battle of Hogwarts.
"Harry?"
He saw Cedric, his first love, being murdered in front of his very eyes. He felt the burning in his hand, the words "I must not tell lies" being carved into his hand. He felt the pain course through his body, as the cruciatus curse splashed across his chest. He felt the burning venom of the basilisk coursing through his veins, fearing that he would die soon, knowing there was no way to stop the pain.
"Harry, wake up!"
He felt the pure terror of facing Voldemort in his first year, the sheer horror of the fact that he might just die, that this may just be the last thing he ever saw, the face of the man who had murdered his parents.
"Harry, you've got to wake up!"
Harry jolted awake, gasping for breath as if he had been submerged underwater for longer than he should have been, before he felt thin, warm arms wrap around his torso, pulling him into a comforting hug. Unable to keep a hold of his emotions, Harry let out a choked sob, before sobbing into the bare chest in front of his face, hands running up and down his back, comforting him as he reigned in his emotions.
"Harry, calm down, everything is alright" Steve's calming voice washed over him, helping him relax quicker than if he had been by himself. "Please, Harry, it's all going to be fine."
Steve continued to hold him, whispering words of comfort until Harry finally stopped crying, successfully reigning in his emotions. He smiled, thinking about how lucky he must be to have someone as kind and loving as Steve ever being interested in him. He kissed Steve's chest, slowly making his way up the flat chest and thin neck, reaching Steve's soft, pink lips, and kissed the man he loved, pushing his thanks for the comfort through the kiss.
Steve returned the kiss with full vigour, pulling out of the kiss when his lungs begged for fresh air. Harry, still gasping for breath, laid his head down on Steve's chest, his ear placed directly over Steve's heart, listening to the calming beat of his heart, the steady rise and fall of Steve's chest.
It was Halloween, which explained the nightmares to Harry. Sure, he still suffered nightmares after the war, but they had become less and less frequent as time went on, being almost non-existent by the time Harry and Steve had shared their first kiss. But, as usual with his infamous luck, anything bad that could happen on Halloween would happen on Halloween. It had happened during his two years in hiding, with the most debilitating dreams happening on the night before Halloween, making him more moodier than he normally would have been. Though, he hopped this year would be different, despite the dreams he had just had, because Steve was there with him.
It had been a good three months since he and Steve had started dating, and a good two months since they had started sharing the same bed. They had been caught kissing by Bucky about two weeks in to their relationship, who had been surprisingly okay about the situation, saying that it was "about fucking time", before walking into the bathroom to have a shower. It had been a shock to both Steve and Harry that Bucky was so accepting of their relationship, considering the stigma surrounding being gay in the 1940's. Though they had to be careful while in the muggle world with their relationship, they could be completely open in the wizarding world due to the open acceptance of same sex relationships.
"Good morning Steve" Harry whispered, loud enough for Steve to hear him. "I hope I didn't wake you?"
"No, you didn't, Harry. You've got nothing to worry about" Steve said, he too whispering. "I was already awake when you started thrashing in your sleep, so I thought I should wake you up. Its seven thirty, by the way. Do you want me to cook some breakfast?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh, before he said "You? Cooking breakfast? I don't know how you survived so long without me, you know that?" He sighed, before he continued. "No, I'll cook breakfast for us. You go have a shower while I get everything ready."
Harry threw the covers off of them, untangling their legs, before he got up, still wearing his pyjama bottoms. He threw on a shirt something thin, as it was rather warm in New York, despite the time of year. When he reached the door to their room, he turned back to Steve, who was only now sitting up in bed, and said "I'm going to have to clear out your lungs again, Steve. They sound like their getting clogged up again, so I'll do it tonight, before Bucky forces us out again for drinks."
He heard Steve's muttered thank you, and the stifled laugh at his comment as he continued towards the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spoons, flour, sugar, eggs and milk to make pancakes, and as an afterthought, he pulled out some strawberries to put in the pancake batter too. Deciding he would do it quickly, he enchanted the knife to quickly cut up the strawberries, while he pulled out oil and a frying pan, putting them on the stove top to heat up, while he measured out the flour and sugar, mixing it with the eggs and milk. He was half way through cooking up the batch of pancakes when Bucky walked out of his room, hair still ruffled from sleep, and his steps slow and groggy from either sleep, or too much alcohol. Harry honestly thought it could have been both.
"Morning sleepy head" Harry called to him, noticing how he winced in pain, clutching his hands over his ears. "Let me guess, long night drinking, and now you've got a hangover." At Bucky's nod of the head, he continued "Come here, I'll sort you out."
With that, Bucky sat down on one of the bar stools, still wincing in pain, as Harry rummaged through the cupboard under the sink, pulling out various vials of potions, selecting two, a pepper up and a hangover cure, before returning the rest to the cupboard. He placed them in front of Bucky with a sharp "Drink", before turning back to breakfast.
Harry didn't turn back to where Bucky was sitting until he had finished cooking the pancakes, plated high as he served them out between the three of them, pulling some pumpkin juice out of the fridge, offering it to the others, both of whom turned down the offer. He wasn't surprised, it was an acquired taste. They talked through breakfast, Bucky saying that he might be home late due to increased workloads to help with increasing demands from their saw mill. Steve did his usual weekly questioning of details of places Harry had been to before he had gone into the Veil, wishing to see what he could draw, and how accurate it would be based on Harry's responses. He was doing a rough sketch while he questioned Harry, and would continue to work on it through the week, before showing the final piece to Harry. After he had finished, he had shown Harry the most recent piece he had worked on, from the questioning he had done the week previously.
He had drawn, as per Harry's description, the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, with Harry mid-flight, the Hungarian Horntail hot on his tail. Harry then spelled it to move, watching as the drawing Harry dipped and dived, avoiding the Hungarian Horntail with speed and precision not normally possible, even for a seeker.
Harry then explained what he would be doing for the day, having to go to Gringotts to sort out some finances, before he would go shopping, looking for some books he could add to his collection. He said that he was specifically looking for books on Parselmagic, as it didn't have as much of a stigma in the Americas as it did the British Isles. Though, he wasn't holding his breath, as it was a very rare ability to have, no matter where in the world you lived.
Once they had finished breakfast, Steve took their plates to wash up, while Harry went to have a shower, laying out his formal robes on the bed before hoping in. He lathered himself up, thoroughly scrubbing off any dirt and grime that had accumulated in the past twenty four hours. He quickly ran his hands through his hair, washing out any soap, before he turned off the water, stepped out and spelled himself dry. He changed into his robes, which bore the crests of the Peverell and Slytherin houses over the heart, and pulled his shoulder length hair back into a short, low tail at the nape of his neck. He would have normally had the crests for the Black, Gryffindor and Potter houses adorning his robes too, but the true lords of those houses, at least during the forties, were still alive, forcing him to wear the lordship rings for those houses on a silver cord around his neck, as he was ineligible for representing the houses.
Once he was ready, he walked out of his room, kissing Steve goodbye for the day, before he spun on the spot, disappearing with a sharp crack. He reappeared outside Gringotts America, with a similar crack. He steadied himself before making his way into the bank, walking over to the nearest open teller.
"Good morning master Goblin" Harry started once the goblin had finished what he had been doing. "I am here to talk to my account manager, Grimclaw. It would be most appreciated if I could get my finances sorted out as quickly as possible today, as I am sure Grimclaw has more important matters to tend to than me."
The Goblin wasn't as shocked as his British counterparts would have been, as they had laws against the discrimination of magical creatures in America. It also helped that American wizards were more intelligent than their British relatives, as they saw that the Goblins could potentially bankrupt a family through a series of bad investments.
"Do you have any identification?" the Goblin asked, a lot more politely than he would have in Britain.
In response, Harry draws both of his wands, the Elder Wand and his trusted Holly and Phoenix Feather wand. Passing both wands over to the Goblin, he waited patiently while the goblin examined every bump and notch, every scratch and carving made into the wood of both wands. With a nod of confirmation, the teller simply handed Harry the wands back, before calling out for another Goblin in Gobbledygook. The goblin that showed up was about waist high on Harry, and quickly beckoned him to a door on the side of the hall, leading him down a series of twisting, turning corridors that made Harry quickly lose count of the number of turns. No matter how many times he came down this hall, and it was every time he came to talk to Grimclaw, he could never remember his way out by himself.
They arrived in front of a heavy wooden door, embedded with precious metals and gems, with a gold nameplate at eye level engraved with Grimclaw set into the wood. The escort knocked on the door twice, before opening it when a curt "Enter" sounded through the wood. Harry stepped through, the door closing with a sharp snap behind him. In front of him sat a greying, ancient Goblin, behind a heavy, oak wood table covered in large amounts of paper work. On the walls were weapons of all sorts, from all ages, both magical and muggle types. He distinctly noticed the civil war era rifle that was hanging on the wall behind the Goblin.
"Ah, Lord Slytherin-Peverell, what a pleasure to see you again" Grimclaw called from his desk, not looking up from his paperwork. "What can I do for you today? Do please take a seat."
Taking the offered seat, Harry was quick to reply. "I would like to make some investments into some companies, and probably set about starting up a business or two. I would also like to make a two withdrawals, of equal amounts in both galleons and dollars."
"We shall start with the easiest, my Lord" Grimclaw said.
With that, Harry made a withdrawal of 200 galleons, which with the current exchange rate, equalled to a thousand dollars for Harry to use in muggle New York. He made investments in some stores in the shopping district (he now owned half of the apothecary, along with two thirds of the book store), and had started up two companies (a broom stick company, which he called the Fire Birds, and his own brewery, which he named The Riddler's Brew). He wasn't too sure that the brewery would make it far, but he knew how important Quidditch was to the wizarding world, so broomsticks were always in high demand. He knew at least one of his businesses would be successful.
When Harry left Gringotts, it was midday, so he decided to head out to muggle New York for lunch. He took the lift up to the entrance in the Empire State Building, having to go from the lowest level of the shopping districts to get there, and transfigured his clothes into something more suitable for the muggles. He headed over to a small, rather unknown little Italian restaurant not far from the Empire State Building. He grabbed a bowl of spaghetti, before heading back into the shopping districts searching for rare volumes and scrolls.
-Line-Break-
Steve heard the crack of Harry apperating outside their door, as he continued to work on his sketch, finishing off the design with various colours here and there. He had gotten so used to Harry's apperating that he barely jumped at the unexpected sound, which was good as he was working on a difficult part of the drawing. He had been working on this for most of the day, only stopping to get food and to go to the toilet when he needed to, and so far, he was only just finishing the first draft, with full colour.
He held up his free hand, stopping any speech from Harry as he walked in, as he was determined to finish this draft before they were forced out for drinks that night. His hand moved with the elegant grace of a dancer, moving rapidly across the page as he darkened parts of the piece here, lightened up other places there, touched it up with a bit of blue right in the middle. He took another ten minutes to finish the draft, which only seemed like seconds to Steve, as he often got lost in his work.
"So how's it going, Steve?" Harry asked, noticing he was finished.
He looked up for the first time since Harry returned and noticed that he wasn't in the clothes he had left in. He then noticed the large number of bags that sat on the kitchen counter, full of books, groceries and clothes. He stared at the bags for a number of seconds before nodding and replying "Yes, it's coming along very well. I've just finished the first draft, if you wish to see it?"
"Oh yes, I'd love to. Lemme see" Harry quickly moved over to Steve's side on the couch, peering over to get a look. He gasped in shock, at how realistic it looked to what he remembered. "My god, Steve. I don't think you need to do any more drafts. This is perfect, just how I remember it."
"Really, I got it that good on the first try?"
"Yes, yes you did, Steve. I'll have to show you" Harry replied, moving into the spare room, which they had converted into a room designated to potions, but also contained other, important magical items, such as his pensieve and a ward stone he had made specifically for the apartment. Bringing out the pensieve, he placed it on the coffee table in front of Steve. He then pulled out his wand, placed it to his head and thought of the specific memory he needed, before pulling the wand tip away from his head. From the tip of his wand hung a shimmery, silver thread that he then placed in the pensieve, mixing the shimmery fluid with his wand. "Go on, place your head in. I'll stay out here."
Though he had done this a couple of times before, he was still a little apprehensive about holding his face in a bowl of water, but did it anyway. He felt like he was falling, falling through water and oil, clouds of mist moving around everywhere, before he landed on his feet with a thump.
All around him were students of various ages, sitting at four, long wooden tables that ran the full length of the hall. Another table sat at the end of the hall, this one running perpendicular to the other four tables. On all four tables, were students wearing black robes, with stitching's showing which house they belonged to, red and gold for Gryffindor, blue and bronze for Ravenclaw, yellow and black for Hufflepuff and green and silver for Slytherin. Interspersed through the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables were other students, some in pale blue robes, and others in blood red. Harry had explained to him that these were students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.
The great hall, as Harry had explained to him, would be decorate every Halloween for the feast. This year had been no different. Pumpkins with candles held in their mouths, carved into the heads of wolves, bats, trolls and orcs floated in the air, under an enchanted ceiling. Instead of being enchanted to look like the night sky outside, it showed a full, blood red moon hang lazily in the sky, casting is blood red glow upon the hall and the enchanted clouds underneath it. Haunting music played through the hall, with the Hogwarts ghosts dancing their haunting dance, ever graceful in their movements. Enchanted skeletons and suits of armour moved around the hall, serving various students different meals and dishes, drinks and deserts. In the exact centre of the hall, stood a wooden chalice, standing on top of a wooden casket, inlayed with heavy gold and jewels. Blue, unearthly flames danced around in the chalice, casting an otherworldly glow across the students that sat near the chalice. Harry was right, he had drawn it perfectly.
A man in light purple robes stood up to speak, but before Steve could hear anything, he was pulled out of the pensieve, landing on the couch with a thump.
"So, how accurate did you get it?" he heard Harry ask, while he was still orienting himself.
"Pretty accurate, if I say so myself" Steve replied, mulling things over in his head. "Though you forgot to mention the skeletons and suits of armour serving food and drinks."
"My bad, it has been, what? Six years? And I wasn't actually served by them either, so I didn't pay much attention to them anyway."
Steve then leaned over, planting a kiss on Harry's lips. Harry quickly responded, returning the kiss as passionately as he always did. As they kissed, Steve couldn't help but wonder how he had managed to get someone as beautiful and caring as Harry was, before the thought was quickly pushed to the back of his mind. Pulling back, panting for breath, Steve stared into those glowing, emerald green eyes, marvelling at the pure beauty and wonder that flashed through them. He laid his head on Harry's chest, sighing when he heard the rhythmic thump-thump, thump-thump of his heart.
He felt Harry's hand start carding its fingers through his hair, the movements massaging his scalp. He drew in a deep breath, which caused him to start coughing roughly, his asthma starting to play up again, as it usually did this time of year.
Harry immediately shifted his arm, moving his hand in slow circles on his back, helping him get over his fit. Once he had calmed down, Harry shifted Steve so he was laying on the couch, and he watched as Harry shifted into professional mode. Quickly summoning the needed potions, he banished Steve's shirt, making it easier to get to his chest to do his work.
Harry immediately placed his hands on Steve's chest, and he felt a warmth fill him as Harry pushed his magic into his chest, searching for any problems. When Harry gasped in shock, he was quickly on alert.
"St-Steve" Harry said, his voice shaky. Steve was immediately worried, Harry never sounded this troubled with his asthma. "I-I-I think you m-may have…" he gulped here, took a shaky breath, and continued, voice slightly steadier "…I think you may have cancer in your lungs."
Steve didn't hear anything else Harry heard. He fainted from shock.