Chapter 15

Snape woke him before the sun was up.

"What's wrong?" Harry sat up with a start, legs groggily untwisting from the sheets.

"Nothing, I'm sorry," Snape said. Harry let out a deep breath and burrowed again into the blankets and into Snape's side for warmth.

"Why'd you wake me up?" Harry said in a croaky whisper.

"Just go back to sleep."

Harry started to, and then woke with a tiny jolt again, remembering his lingering question before he drifted again.

"Tell me." He snaked a hand between the blankets and found Snape's leg, which flinched at his cold touch.

"Once we're out there with all of them, we won't be able to speak to each other," Snape said.

Harry's mind unfogged further from sleep. Snape got like this, in the dark sometimes on the grounds at Hogwarts, or at some odd hour of the night in bed. It was like a little chest opened up inside him and he shared things, in turn sucking secrets out of Harry, who found himself voicing thoughts he'd never told aloud anyone. It'd been an early, foggy morning like this one when Harry'd confided in Snape that the first time he'd visited his parent's grave, he'd wished himself dead and buried with them and that everytime he thought of Dumbledore, he was paralyzed with fear that the man never loved him.

"Won't get to be ourselves you mean?" Harry stretched, knocking Snape in the face with his elbow on accident. "Oops, sorry."

Snape took the offending arm in his hand and guided it down to rest safely between them. "We'll be ourselves, just not with each other."

Harry almost said they could, he didn't care, but it broached too close to the subject that both of them since last night had come to an unspoken agreement they wouldn't touch for a very long time. Even now, when Snape was easy and giving like wet earth, Harry didn't dare say that he really thought on the subject, fearing the isolation of the day before.

Snape helped him by changing the subject. "Did you have a dream?"

"Yeah." Harry was glad Snape could not see him blushing. "How'd you know?"

"You mumble sometimes. Was it a bad one?"

"I've had worse," Harry said vaguely. "Did it seem bad?"

"Yes."

They both went quiet. Harry made a calculated shift to brush against Snape's lap casually. Snape was a decent way to erect and Harry hummed.

Snape ignored him. "What was the dream about?"

"I'm much more interested in this." Harry made a more deliberate pass at Snape's erection, taking hold of it through his underwear.

Snape pushed his hand away, but the huskier tone his voice took when he spoke again was promising. "The dream."

"It's honestly so embarrassing."

"I promise to forget the moment you tell me."

Harry laughed. "One would wonder, then, why I should tell you."

"To know something about you," Snape said, "That no one else knows. For later, to think on, when we're in a room full of people."

This silenced Harry for a moment, the idea appealing to him very much. Then he joked, "His powers of persuasion are great," but Snape was already gathering him in his arms, in what Harry recognized was one of their confession positions.

"Fine." Harry laughed dryly to try to keep from being embarrassed. "I kept dreaming me and you were lovers in different stories like- well it was really two, the only two I know. The people from Gone with the Wind- Do you know that one?"

"No."

"And Romeo and Juliet."

Snape shook with what Harry was sure was silent laughter behind him.

"This is why I didn't tell you," Harry said, though he felt like laughing himself as his face warmed. "I don't remember what their names were from Gone with the Wind, but Aunt Petunia used to watch it all the time on the telly and we were in costume like the characters were in the movie and I don't even remember what it is we said to each other except we were always fighting or fucking. One of which we should be doing now," Harry said, pushing back against Snape's hips, confirming his erection was alive and well.

Snape pulled Harry tighter to him to keep him from wriggling.

"But the dream went bad," Snape whispered in Harry's ear.

"Sort of," Harry said, giving up his struggle. "With Romeo and Juliet- you know it?" Even though Snape was half-blood, he was never sure how much he knew of muggle culture.

"Yes."

"Do you know what happens at the end?"

"They both die."

"Right- well I know that much but I can't remember exactly how they die or in what order and the dream didn't make much sense but sometimes I was Romeo looking at you as dead Juliet in the casket and sometimes I was Juliet looking at you as dead Romeo. Everytime I blinked, we switched places. But whoever I was, I was always just stuck looking at you dead.

"And then right before I woke up, I was Romeo again and you were bleeding from your head and from your neck and I held my hands there to stop the blood. And then you started bleeding from your chest and I had no more hands. Then you woke me up. What was I mumbling?"

"You were saying 'swarm.'"

"The blood was warm." He thought he could still feel it in the palm of his hand.

Harry rolled, his shirt twisting around his chest, constricting him, and he kissed Snape, who stayed very still.

He pulled away. "Do you think it means I'm afraid you'll kick it?"

"I'm not as intuitive a diviner as you, but yes that seems to be the trouble."

"You'll try really hard not to die, right?"

Snape shifted with a quiet laugh.

"I'm serious," Harry said, trying to catch his eye in the dark.

"I'll try as hard as you do."

Harry kissed him again and Snape kissed back this time but kept it short and pulled away. Harry kept their faces close, to breathe his breath. "I feel dizzy."

"Not eating does that to a person." His voice was indifferent but Harry recognized the admonishment. The more time he spent around Severus, the more he understood the difference between the way Snape meant to communicate and the way he actually did- the way people misunderstood him, his unforgiving tone, his implacable manner.

"I did eat, I had dinner last night." But Harry couldn't even remember if this was true. "I can go days, sometimes. But it's not on purpose, I just forget or something."

Snape went very still again.

"I learned that, with the Dursley's," Harry admitted.

"Petunia," Snape said simply, hatefully.

He snorted, coming to her defense less because he thought she deserved it and more because he didn't want to make a big thing of his suffering. "She never hit me or anything. Sometimes, my uncle did. But mostly they just had this thing about giving me stuff. They never did if they could help it."

Snape's hand slipped under his shirt.

"Were you ever hungry?" Harry asked.

"Yes. But not on purpose. We were too poor or Eileen was distracted."

"Eileen? Did you always call her like that?"

"How did you know you were in Romeo and Juliet if you don't remember what happens at the end of it?" Snape asked. He did that, just ignored questions full stop, and Harry allowed it when he wanted to avoid a row.

"We were wearing old timey costumes," Harry said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And I said something- like, oh no, Juliet don't be dead."

"Just as Shakespeare wrote it."

Harry shifted to bring their hips together and hung an arm around his neck. "You know what I was thinking about the entire car ride yesterday?" He hoped his voice sounded sexy in a conspiratorial sort of way.

"That I smelled like sour vomit?"

"No," Harry said, frustrated with Snape's refusal to be seduced. The semi-darkness made him bold enough to try harder. "I was thinking how much I'd like to give you a big sloppy blowjob."

Snape didn't say anything for a moment and then said, "Sloppy?" sounding vaguely interested.

"Yeah, I like it like that, when you choke me with it and," Harry started breathing faster and he wasn't embarrassed, not like when he had to tell about the dream, "and it's wet with my spit and your come." He felt Snape's cock twitch against him.

"Where did you learn to talk like that?" Snape said, his voice flaring like a spike in temper but Harry knew it was arousal.

"I'm just thinking about it all the time," he answered, giving his own voice a desperate finish for Snape's benefit.

Snape released an audible exhale and moved against Harry. His hands climbed Harry's torso and settled around his collarbone, one of this fingers tracing the dip at the base of his throat. His lips were flush against the side of Harry's face and the tickle of his breath and the way his body was tensed around Harry for a moment lightened his head and Harry knew it wasn't his empty stomach that was responsible, whatever Snape said.

But then Snape relaxed, inching away from him. "Dumbledore told me once that you'd almost been sorted into Slytherin. I think I see why."

"I can't believe you," Harry said, irritated, his tone going very cold as he gave up his simpering. He nudged Snape in the shoulder. "You're going to refuse to have sex now when we're about to go on a hunt for a dark wizard in a place we can't do magic? Who knows when we'll have the opportunity."

"A consequence of your agreement to this ridiculous mission. At least you finally seem to be grasping the gravity of the situation."

"How is this making things better? Having sex would relax us, help us focus on why we're here." Harry pulled his face back and put his hands around Snape's shoulders, determined to make him see reason. And sex.

"Yes, you seem extremely focused right now."

Harry felt utterly betrayed. Until now, the one thing they'd always been in agreement about was sex- that they should have it, often, and that everything else could be dropped and dealt with later whenever the feeling struck them. When they didn't want to, it always seemed both of them felt that way at the same time, understood it without conversation.

"Is it because of what happened the last time?" The last time, Snape had been overcome with whatever he'd been feeling and hadn't finished. "Have you- have you not wanted to since then?"

"Obviously I have," Snape said impatiently.

They both lay there in petulant silence for some time, watching the room come into focus as the sun rose higher behind a wall of gray clouds. As the dark lifted, Harry knew their conversation wouldn't be the same. It'd take the same turn it always took in the light, toward self-consciousness, hesitation, performance. He was grabbing for his glasses on the bedside table when Snape's voice stopped him.

"You're young. Or maybe it's just that we feel differently about hunting dark wizards," Snape said.

Harry opened his mouth to crack back, but he remembered himself, remembered that Snape was the one who woke him up before the morning came to spend a few waking minutes alone together.

"You have to store up all sorts of resources in yourself before you fight dark magic and put other things away. Information makes you strong. Certain emotions, too."

"Anger, self-righteousness, pride," Harry said bitterly before he could stop himself.

"I was thinking about desire, actually."

Regret filled him; regret that the morning was coming so fast for them, that he'd used any time at all to argue with Severus.

"Stop saying things like that if you want me to behave," he said, pulling Snape's arms around him.

"Harry," Snape said into his temple, sounding exasperated but making no move to disentangle himself. Harry trembled to hear his own name given to him like a gift in that blackened, untouched voice; it made him feel naked and pliant.

"God, keep my name in your mouth," Harry said, catching Severus's lips, catching Severus himself, fully, finally, in the web of a kiss entangled enough to trip him in as far into the close comfort of their embrace as Harry waded.

Severus passed a sound into Harry's mouth and swore properly when they broke apart, only to latch himself to Harry's mouth again. He pulled Harry's limbs tighter around him and his hands didn't hold back anymore, took what they wanted, and Harry gave of himself freely, suppressing a wild smile that he was worried Snape might feel, might wake him up from his reverie.

But the more Snape ravaged his mouth, the less Harry feared. He went limp a little in Snape's fierce grip, weightless with gratification.

"You are so fucking sweet, it's unconscionable," Snape panted in his ear, voice inflected with a vicious tilt that excited him. Severus's whole hand was around Harry's jaw, angling their mouths unnecessarily closer with bated strength. Harry was rutting against his leg now, his thoughts wildly, inappropriately straying to Eileen Prince, grateful as he was to her for making Severus's thigh.

"I'm so glad I saved you," he said. He turned his head into Snape's face mindlessly to feel his stubble scratch him, to feel the whole shape of him, let loose in the life of hot breath at his ear again.

But Snape didn't go further and bid Harry go still again. Harry didn't fight against it this time, Snape's will to stop becoming his.

Rain began to pelt the windows. The pattering drowned out the sound of their calming pants and Harry watched the water streak the world, steady lines of silver that fell in a disjointed stream from the whitening sky.

The people waiting for them outside that room were like the water, beating the windows expectantly. He would have found the dry protection more comforting if he didn't know he'd have to get up and out, didn't know he'd be wet soon.

They arrived at breakfast separately. Ron saw him leave Snape's room and while Harry was thankful it wasn't someone else, he vowed never to be without his invisibility cloak moving forward.

But these thoughts were shoved aside quickly with Hermione's arrival at the Leaky Cauldron.

The bushy blur of her hair precursing her hug tugged at Harry's heart in a familiar way and he embraced her back with gratefulness.

"What are you doing here?" he asked when they pulled apart.

"I'm coming with you," she said, her eyes searching his face apprehensively.

"Hermione," Harry said, but she was looking over his shoulder.

Ron appeared from behind him and kissed her. "What are you doing here?" Hermione pursed her lips at the repeated question. But before she could answer, Ron was speaking again. "No. Just no."

There were other Aurors coming down the stairs with their packs, looking oddly at the three of them. Hermione grabbed both their hands and pulled them to an alcove near the door.

"I might have been able to keep out of it if one of you was going. But I just can't stay back when both of you are leaving. I can't," Hermione whispered louder over Ron's sudden gapping.

"Hermione, we're trained for this. You don't have Auror training, you haven't dueled in years, besides the fact that we don't even know if we'll be able to do magic where we're going," Harry said.

"But that's where I can help, it's a sticky situation. You're not going to get by this with sheer brawniness," she said, blushing, although Harry couldn't tell why. "Besides, I don't plan on dueling with magic or otherwise. I plan to help with the research," she indicated the rucksack that was hanging off one of her shoulders and Harry was sure that there was an entire small library worth of books in it.

"Aren't you worried what your coworkers will get up to in your absence? They'll ruin months of your work on the house elf front," Ron said and Harry could tell he thought this was big guns.

"That can wait. I'm not letting you two leave me in London. I just can't bear it."

They were all huddled then in stubborn silence.

Harry could practically hear Ron's brain whirring for another reason she shouldn't go. He felt sort of guilty- he couldn't be bothered to come up with a reason because he quite liked the idea of Hermione being with them.

"If research is what you're helping with then there won't be any need to come with us. You could help us from afar, stay here and send messages through the team, they'll know how to get them to us," Ron said. Harry knew he had to try but he understood Hermione enough to know this was a losing battle.

"It's just not a discussion, Ron," Hermione said, looking more sad for Ron than annoyed. She glanced over Ron's shoulder and her eyes widened. "Snape's here too?"

"Yeah, and turns out he's been using experimental spells on Harry, what'd you think of that?"

Harry gaped. "You're taking that completely out of context."

"So he did test spells on you?" Hermione looked scandalized.

"It was just one! And-"

Ron cut it in. "But don't worry, Hermione, that's not keeping Harry from going back for more."

"You never could stand it when someone else was getting laid and you weren't, could you Ron?" Harry said.

Ron sputtered and Hermione hid a laugh in her sleeve. Harry took the opportunity to turn on his heel and leave them in the doorway, as Tom, who'd chosen this opportune moment to come and sweep the entrance, was reaching around their feet with a broom.

He found Severus, who was seating himself at an empty table when Harry joined him.

"Is Ms. Granger coming?" he asked.

"Yeah. Ron's pissed. But I'm sort of glad she is," Harry admitted.

"She'll be far more useful than him."

Harry bristled. "Don't be rude, it won't help matters."

"Oh, very well, Mr. Potter," Snape said, sycophantically, and sipped his tea.

Hermione approached the table with a surly looking Ron in tow behind her. "Hello Professor," she said, reaching out her hand to Snape. Snape seemed to hesitate for a moment and Harry almost kicked him under the table, but then he took her hand and shook it, saying "Ms. Granger," lowly.

After breakfast, which they spent in mostly awkward silence, they began to Apparate in groups to their designated position of travel in Manchester. When they got there, a fleet of Ministry cars was waiting for them at what looked like a rest-stop at the side of the road. None of the cars were magiced larger because of the nature of the mission. They had to separate from Hawthrone and Savage then, so Ron, Hermione, Snape and Harry could fit into a car together.

Dawlish held out a set of keys to Ron but Harry took them. "I'll drive."

Ron didn't object.

Dawlish then gave them each a flip phone. "We don't know how far out the spell goes, so keep this on you in case we lose each other and need to communicate. Follow the GDS."

"GPS," Harry corrected.

"Yes that," Dawlish said, wiping his forehead even though he wasn't sweating. "Follow that and give the car ahead of you some time to blend in with the traffic before you go. We've charmed the cars to be less detectable but that'll be useless once when we get within the spell's field and we want to try to blend in as much as possible."

Ron got into the backseat with Hermione and Snape rode in front. Harry's eyes lingered on Snape's white hands in his own lap as he started the car. As Harry followed the other cars out of the parking lot, he fidgeted with something in his pocket, which was digging into him uncomfortably.

"If this is any indication of your driving habits…" Snape said, glaring at him as he lurched a little in his seat, Harry slamming the breaks too hard to avoid hitting the car in front of them.

"Relax," Harry said, but he couldn't help laughing when he saw Snape shift in his sear. After he pulled out his Auror badge and put it in the holder between them, he made a show of putting both of his hands responsibly on the wheel.

"Harry's an excellent driver, professor," Hermione said.

Ron mimicked her bitterly and Harry smiled as he watched Hermione hit him in the rearview mirror.

"Ron had to Confund the muggle driving instructor to pass his exam," Harry said to Snape.

"Harry's absolute favorite tidbit of Auror training to share with anyone who'll listen," Ron said.

"Maybe because you go around telling people I was Vanishing my clothes instead of transfiguring them during disguise training."

"It's definitely the better story."

"Yeah, if it were true- it happened once and it was only my trousers."

It was their turn to make the left onto the main street and start the drive. Then Snape said, "It's still the better story," almost shyly and Hermione and Ron answered it with a surprised laughter. They stopped at a red light and Harry looked to Snape in time to see the barest hint of a smile fading from his face. Harry was glad to be the butt of a joke if it brought them in harmony for a moment.

Soon, they were on the open road. Ron reached between them in the front to fiddle with the radio, which had wizarding channels and he found one that was reporting on the latest Chudley Canon's game.

"You've got 15 minutes with that, and then it's going to irritate 2 out of the 4 people in this car," Snape said.

"Well this is going to be a jolly 2 hours."

"He's not wrong," Hermione said softly.

"Of course he isn't."

The first hour passed then in silence between them. Harry and Snape couldn't speak to each other plainly and Ron and Hermione surely felt the same. Ron seemed to be switching stations often to punish Snape for not letting him stay on one, though judging by Snape's impatient leg bounce, that was close to changing.

Harry was trying very hard not to speed but the deeper they got into the drive, the less attention he paid, and eventually he went well over the limit.

"Harry, you're speeding," Hermione said the moment he hit 20 above the limit, as if she'd been psychically connected to the speedometer.

"Recklessly," Snape added, as Harry switched lanes in front of a tractor trailer.

"Sorry." He started to slow, looking down at the speedometer and noticing that next to it, the indicator for low fuel was lit up.

"Look at that Harry, an alliance has been formed," Ron said.

"Whatever would we do without your clever little quips, Weasley?"

"We need to get petrol," Harry said loudly, hoping to stop Ron from responding from the sheer volume of his voice.

"They gave us a car with a nearly empty tank?" Hermione asked.

"It is weird," Harry agreed.

Snape and Ron were thankfully quieted by this new development. When Harry saw a sign for petrol, he took the exit and Ron called Dawlish to tell him they were stopping.

Ron was still on the phone with him as Harry pulled into the petrol station. "No, no, don't bother. We won't be a minute." When Ron hung up, he said, "What happened to the radio?"

It'd turned completely to static. Harry hadn't noticed until Ron pointed it out. He'd been discreetly lowering the volume since they left to try to keep Snape, and himself really, from getting irritated by it.

"Are we just out of range?"

"It's a magical frequency, the range is a lot longer than muggle ones." Hermione seemed disturbed.

"Speaking of muggles, has anyone got any muggle money?"

Everyone in the car turned to look at Ron. "For the petrol?" he said, defensive.

Severus pulled his wand from his pocket.

"Oi!" Ron said.

"Not to hex you, you idiot! To test our magic. The radio went dead, which could mean we're within range of magik mortus."

"But we're miles still from Robin Hood." Harry was looking at Snape for the first time since they left London.

"Things change," Snape said. And even though no one seemed to want him to for fear of the truth, he waved his wand and said clearly, "Lumos."

Nothing happened.

"Fuck!" Ron punched the seat in front of him, which was Snape's, but Snape said nothing and Harry's stomach dropped. "We were supposed to camp out at least for a night, outside it's border, that muggle weapon's expert- what the fuck are we going to do now? Is it getting bigger?"

The static of the radio seemed a terrible omen now and it was loud compared to the hush that fell in the wake of Ron's unanswerable questions.

Harry looked around the petrol station. Was it his imagination or was it eerily empty?

"I think we should get out of here. Ron, call Dawlish and warn him." Harry started the car.

"But Harry! We still need petrol."

"Right."

"I'll pay inside," Hermione said. "I brought cash."

"I'll go with you," Ron said.

"Wait." Snape pulled something out of his pocket and handed it back to Ron.

"What is that?" Harry turned his head to see what it was. Ron wasn't taking it.

"It's a knife, but if you don't want it, Weasley, by all means-"

"No! I'll take it. For fuck's sake, am I supposed to stab someone with it if I'm attacked?"

No one answered but when Hermione opened the door and got out of the car, he followed her.

"Good thinking," Harry told him when they were alone.

"Harry!"

Harry looked back to his right, alarmed, but it was just Ron calling to him casually from just outside the door to the shop. Harry pushed the button to bring down the window.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Ron asked.

"Just get us all waters, I guess."

He almost rolled the window back up but the coolness felt good after being in the stifling air of the car for so long.

When Harry turned back to look at Snape, he saw that he'd found Harry's Auror badge between them and was tracing his fingers delicately over the raised letters in Harry's name.

It felt like being touched. It felt like Snape must love him at least a little bit.

Then, all at once, there was a loud, blunt crack (the window near Snape's head shattering), the high pitched smashing of glass (from inside the shop), and hands like steel wrapping themselves around Harry's throat, crushing his windpipe.

Snape had time enough to unbuckle his seatbelt before another pair of hands reached through the broken window, one arm wrapping around Snape's neck in a chokehold, the other with the blade of a knife unsheathed and swiping through the air with determined precision, lifting high and then pulling downward towards Snape's heart. Snape's hand wrapped around the forearm, keeping but an inch between the blade and his flesh, his strength weaning as he struggled still for air. Harry could see it in his eyes when he chanced a glance away from the tip of the knife, could see that Snape would give up soon.

He began to struggle desperately, clawing at his man's hands, seeing stars, and a face came into view, a face he'd seen many years ago, bloodthirsty emptiness deep set in a pair of blue eyes, coming in through the window into the intimate space of the car. Then there were Snape's boots kicking in front of him, bashing the man's face back through the car window. He let go of Harry to hold his own face, yelling in apparent agony.

Harry was taking deep, burning breaths of air and began scrambling to help Snape, pulling the knife's point further from his chest, easing Snape's burden.

"Look..at..me," Snape rasped.

"NO!" Harry said, struggling harder, pulling at the clothes of Snape's attacker, trying to bash him into the broken glass of the window around his arms.

"Idiot…" Snape said and Harry did look at him and in the instant he knew, knew that Snape had a knife strapped to his ankle.

He was wrenched back by the collar, the door of the driver's seat having been opened and his attacker quite recovered. Harry caught the wheel on his way out, and he pushed the horn as long as he could, hoping Ron and Hermione would hear…where were Ron and Hermione?

His attack let go of his shirt and gripped Harry's legs for a better hold and pulled. Harry reached for Snape's ankle, which Snape was putting in his way, and fumbled with the edge of his trousers as he was yanked further and further out of the car, searching for the strap while being dragged against the it's floor, not finding it long enough for the man at his legs to give one great pull and land him smack on the concrete, tearing Snape's leg out of reach.

"No!" Harry yelled and looked behind him. The asshole was grinning at him. Harry kicked at his face but he dodged and it occurred to Harry again that the longer he took, the more Snape was likely to lose his own battle. But as hard as he writhed, he couldn't escape-he was on his back and the man was climbing him, straddling him, choking him again, the sound of Hermione screaming coming to him now, as if from a great distance…mingled with a man's agonized yell. Was that Severus? Had the knife finally sunk into his heart? Had they kept their promises from the morning?

With this terrible thought, he began to die.