Divul(Indul)gences
(For those using translators: The title is a play on the words Divulgences and Indulgences.)
Severus awoke on his side, sensing a presence before him. He felt warmth against his chest, in his arms, and around his middle, with someone's even breaths tickling his neck.
Opening his eyes to the dim morning light, he discovered Harry asleep atop the bed, only the quilt separating them. Their arms were wrapped around each other like lovers, and Severus could smell the lavender soap—with a hint of rosemary and mint—on Harry's skin.
He stilled, unsure of what to do. Had this been a usual occurrence between Harry and Ronald? he wondered.
The next moment, Harry stirred. Blearily, he opened his fluttering eyes, and Severus was treated to the closest view of Harry's emerald irises he'd ever had. Sadly, Harry's pupils contracted the more aware he became.
"Sorry," mumbled Harry, hastily reclaiming his arms. He turned over and reached towards the desk where his eyeglasses lay.
"Harry," Severus said with a slow, rich cadence.
Harry shivered and focused on his face. "Yeah?" he murmured, sliding his frames up the bridge of his nose with a finger.
"Why are you on my bed?"
"Ah, um," Harry began, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but Ron used to talk in his sleep quite a bit. You were having a nightmare, shouting, so I came over to sit beside you, which seemed to calm you down. But when I tried to leave, you—well, you asked me to stay,"—his cheeks reddened—"and mentioned some other things," he added, more to himself than to Severus. "So I, um, stayed."
Severus felt heat fill his face and flow down his throat like lava, knowing his salmon-pink blush was probably clashing with his red hair.
He cleared his throat. "I apologise if I said anything to cause you discomfort."
Harry chuckled. "No worries. Most of the time, you were just formulating possible potions. It helped me fall back asleep, actually," he added cheekily, causing Severus to snort in amusement.
For a moment, their eyes met, and a frisson of electricity seemed to pass between them.
"I need to go find Hermione," said Harry, rising to his feet. He tugged at the hem of the wine-coloured pyjama shirt he had Transfigured smaller from Ronald's wardrobe. "She has all the clothes I have in her beaded bag. If the bathroom down the hallway is in use, you can go to the one connected to Mr and Mrs Weasley's room on the first floor; they won't mind. There's also the bathroom on the fourth floor, but I don't recommend using it."
Severus nodded in understanding and gratitude. "I shall get ready and meet you in the kitchen, then," he said as he sat up.
"All right," Harry said while striding towards the door. "See you downstairs." Closing it softly behind him, he left.
After changing into a black jumper with vertical stripes, a grey shirt, and dark blue jeans, Severus walked to the nearest bathroom and, to his relief, found it unoccupied. He used the facilities, needing to conjure a new toothbrush, then went downstairs, careful to avoid the cursed step.
Mrs Weasley was already bustling in the kitchen. The worktops were laden with an abundance of food: trays brimming with fried eggs, sausages, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, and toast; a generous platter of kippers accompanied by buttered bread; succulent roast beef paired with Yorkshire pudding; freshly baked scones alongside an assortment of sweet and savoury Cornish pasties; and even a roasted turkey. Given the vast array of dishes under preservation charms, it seemed she had slept very little and had kept herself busy by cooking.
Looking at him, her eyes immediately welled up with tears, her face already red and swollen from past crying.
Severus stood there awkwardly, uncertain of how to proceed.
She decided for him, moving closer while dabbing at her eyes with her apron's corner.
"Severus, come have some breakfast," Mrs Weasley urged, gently guiding him towards the table with a light touch on his arm. "The tea's freshly brewed, and there's coffee if you'd rather have that."
Just as he was about to sit down, her demeanour shifted to a more solemn expression. "Severus," she began, clasping his hands in hers, "I want you to know, even though I've lost two sons, in a way, I feel like I've gained another with you." Her face broke into a slight grin, revealing from whom the twins had inherited some of their impish charms. "And the best part? I didn't even have to change one nappy."
At this, Severus couldn't help but pull a face.
"Now, don't look at me like that. I'm not asking you to start calling me Mum, but you are more than welcome to call me Molly."
A wave of warmth surged through Severus at her words, a stark contrast to the coldness he had usually lived with before arriving at the Burrow. "Molly, thank you," he responded, his gratitude genuine. He was inwardly relieved; given his history, he half-expected to be shown the door rather than embraced so kindly. After all, his own mother had turned him out onto the streets more than once, following a fierce row during his teenage years.
"If you wish, please feel free to call me Severus," he offered.
She smiled and nodded.
A few minutes later, as Severus ate, Harry appeared, jumping the last couple of steps into the kitchen as if fleeing a pack of stampeding Puffskeins.
"Harry!" Molly exclaimed, amused but not shocked by his energetic entrance, used to rambunctious children rampaging throughout her home. "Would you like to start with some pumpkin juice?"
"That sounds great, Mrs Weasley," he replied, sitting heavily in the chair to the left of Severus with a relieved sigh.
After Harry, others trickled into the kitchen like an indecisive leak. Once everyone was present, they somberly spoke about the preparations for Fred's and Ronald's funerals: owls that needed to be sent, venues, and other details. It was decided Fred's service would be next Saturday at the Burrow. Ronald was asked what he'd prefer, so his service would be on Sunday at Hogwarts, allowing him to attend. He also wanted all who were present to receive a Chocolate Frog in his honour.
Taking their cue from Molly, everyone in the Weasley household began addressing Severus by his first name. He felt it also helped them separate him from their brother.
Eventually, the topic of conversation turned to Quidditch, as if it were expected of them or a habit. They argued whether the Falmouth Falcons or the Wimbourne Wasps would win the next Britannia Quidditch Cup. However, their ribbing of each other seemed forced, and their grins did not quite reach their eyes.
"Severus, do you play Quidditch?" asked William.
"I did," Severus answered, surprising everyone but Harry, who'd learnt this tidbit the previous evening. "I played as Seeker for Slytherin during my second and third years, but in my fourth year, I decided to focus on my studies. I also knew of a classmate who dearly wanted the position and was willing to part with a hefty amount of Galleons for it." He refrained from mentioning that the classmate in question was Regulus Black.
"Why don't you kids go outside and play a game of Quidditch?" Arthur suggested.
Severus felt fairly certain that Arthur's reference to 'kids' included him.
"Yes. I think that's a splendid idea," Molly chimed in, noticing the tepid response. "Especially since I'd rather not trip over everyone while getting the house ready for guests."
"But, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said, "we could help—"
"Nonsense," Molly cut her off with gentle firmness. "I know this house best and have been renewing its charms before any of you were a glimmer in your parents' eyes."
Amusedly, most of the Weasley children grimaced with distaste at being reminded of what had been necessary for their existence.
Reluctant to challenge their mother further, the Weasley offspring agreed, and along with Fleur, Hermione, and Severus, they stood up from the table. Those willing to play quickly procured their brooms. Then, in a parade of discontent, they made their way first to the shed for the Quidditch equipment before they passed the slightly overgrown back garden, being sure to avoid any peevish gnomes, and through the blooming orchard to the expansive field beyond.
Hermione sat down at a nearby picnic table underneath a lone old oak, her choice influenced more by her lack of interest in flying than by a need to balance numbers. The rest negotiated which position they would prefer, which grew animated since there weren't enough players for two complete teams.
After the dust settled, Team Green consisted of Harry assuming the role of Beater, a choice shaped by George's reluctance to play the position without Fred. Severus, cognizant of Ronald's past as Keeper, opted to be a Chaser alongside Fleur, while George agreed to be Keeper. Team Red saw William as Beater, with Charles and Miss Weasley flying as Chasers, and Percy standing guard as Keeper. With no Seekers, they would play until the first team scored one hundred fifty points.
Severus mounted Ronald's Cleansweep Eleven and found he couldn't fly with the ease he was used to, another reminder that certain skills he had toiled to acquire would need to be relearned. Sighing, he took his position.
When Hermione tossed the Quaffle into the air, George and Percy dashed off to their respective goalposts. Miss Weasley managed to gain ownership of the ball, with Charles, Fleur, and Severus barrelling after her. After the release of the Bludgers, the Chasers scattered. Harry swung his Beater's bat, protecting Severus from a Bludger and forcing Miss Weasley to dodge, allowing Fleur to steal.
At first, the gameplay mainly consisted of an outpouring of pent-up anger and frustration with sharp movements and hard hits and throws, but gradually, a sense of camaraderie and the bright blue sky above them tempered it.
Grinning diabolically, Severus swooped down from behind. At just the right moment, he manoeuvred out of the way, allowing the oncoming Bludger, a gift from Harry, to slam into Charles's back. The Quaffle popped from Charles's grasp, and Severus caught it and scored another ten points for the win.
Team Red groaned, and Harry's exuberant shout of "Brilliantly done, Severus!" warmed Severus' insides and filled him with elation.
When about an hour had passed and they were in the middle of their second game, Molly appeared with a tray of roast beef and turkey sandwiches along with empty glasses for them to cast Aguamenti to fill. She set the food on the picnic table and waved. Everybody on a broom returned her wave with one of their own, causing William to groan and swear from a Bludger's unexpected blow.
With that, Molly went back to the house, leaving them to continue their game.
They played a total of three games in the end, with Team Green winning two to one.
Afterwards, with the grass tickling their skin and the smell of fresh earth around them, they all lay on the ground for a while and simply stared at the sky with its slowly moving clouds. Sometimes, sniffles could be heard, but everyone respectfully remained silent.
"We should head back inside," Percy said, sitting up.
They sighed, grumbled, or groaned at his words but acquiesced, getting to their feet.
Severus brushed his clothes to remove any debris and strode to the picnic table. Like many others, he had eaten between the second and third match, yet he felt famished again and removed a preservation charm on a sandwich before inhaling it, as did a few others. Hermione also enjoyed one, having not eaten since breakfast.
They all worked together to clean up, then journeyed back to the house, entering via the back garden door.
"Dibs on the second-floor bathroom!" said Miss Weasley, rushing upstairs.
Percy followed close behind, shouting, "First dibs on Mum and Dad's!"
William, Charles, and George rolled their eyes and, in unison, pointed their wand at themselves and said, "Scourgify."
Harry and Severus followed suit in casting the cleaning charm, but Hermione, having not played, didn't bother.
As Fleur glided past them towards the kitchen, her broom gracefully carried in one hand and the food tray levitating behind her, she called over her shoulder, "Bill, mon cher, could you let me know when a bathroom eez free?"
The scars on William's face stretched as he gave her an affectionate grin and nodded.
Witnessing William and Fleur's cloying love, Severus grimaced. He wanted to be away from it. Also, all the activity had him feeling off, so he ventured straight to Ronald's room, Harry and Hermione following him.
Severus entered and sat on the edge of Harry's bed, his back toward the window, not wanting to see more of the beautiful spring day.
"All the fresh air must have got to me," said Hermione, sitting heavily on his right.
"Yeah," Harry agreed and took a seat on Severus' left.
Hermione lay down with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. "I'm glad Mrs Weasley suggested we go out."
Harry reclined onto the bed, too, sighing with pleasure. "I'd almost forgotten how much I loved playing. Haven't done it since my well-deserved ban by you in sixth year," he said, gazing at Severus with a self-deprecating smile. He patted the empty space between himself and Hermione. "Come on, Severus. Join us," he said playfully.
Severus raised an eyebrow at him, his face reddening, and Hermione exhaled a hard laugh, then giggled.
He winced at his teenage body's simple-mindedness and sighed as the faint sound of a cuckoo clock's song came through the door.
With the sensation of a poplar tree's fluffy white seeds floating inside his skull, he joined them, carefully hiding his predicament.
"It's so surreal that the war's over," Harry said.
Shutting her eyes, Hermione hummed in agreement. "Yes, we won." She paused for a moment, then snorted and softly said in a sing-song voice, "We are the champions, my friends."
They looked at her with amused surprise, recognising the popular Muggle song lyrics.
Off-key and oddly sounding somewhat inebriated, Harry continued the following line, "And we'll keep on fighting till the end."
"We are the champions!" Harry and Hermione sang together louder. "We are the champions!"
With a sense of bemused resignation, Severus thought, What the hell? and added his slightly slurring voice to the chorus.
"No time for losers! 'Cause we are the champions of the World!"
Severus heard the bedroom door open and glimpsed Charles peeking inside.
"Are they…singing?" Charles asked George standing beside him. He listened for a few more seconds as they continued to belt the rock anthem. "What are they singing?" he asked, bewildered.
With a knowing, mischievous gleam in his eye, George cracked a smile for the first since Fred's death. "I don't know, but whatever it is, it's top-notch."
Severus wasn't sure at what point he fell unconscious, possibly between the last verse and chorus, but when he woke—having had his best sleep in months—the room was dim, lit only by candlelight. Remembering everything that had happened, Severus couldn't believe he, a master of brewing, had been pranked into a drunken stupor with a potion of some sort, likely in his food and likely by George Weasley. However, he couldn't help but commend George's formula. Perhaps I'll ask him about the intricacies of its creation tomorrow.
He gazed out the window and, on its darkened surface, saw the reflection of Harry and Hermione sitting side by side on the other bed. Eavesdropping, he realised Harry was in the middle of informing her about how Severus had probably returned from the dead.
"I see," Hermione said at the end of Harry's explanation, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I can't blame Severus, of course. Yet, it…it just feels so profoundly unfair. Ron and I shared our first kiss in the Chamber of Secrets." She grinned at Harry's look of surprise. "After all the pining and arguments, I believed we were finally going to make it work." Her smile faded, tears spilling over. "But Ron, as a ghost, it's just not the same."
Her tears flowing freely now, she whispered, "I miss him terribly."
Harry and Hermione quietly held each other, finding solace in their mutual grief.
Severus didn't want to disturb them, and in truth, he felt immense guilt for having survived when so many others deserved it more.
Hermione lifted her head a few minutes later and peered at Harry's face. "I've always been curious. From Ron's sleep-talking, we both know he loved you…more than just a friend.
"I did consider the idea of sharing," she said with a soft chuckle, "but as you know, I am the jealous sort."
"Should I be watching for incoming birds?" Harry teased playfully.
Her laughter filled the room, dispelling the tension. "No." Her expression sobered. "I know you fancied Cedric and Dean, so I have to ask, did you ever feel that way about Ron?"
"Never," Harry answered immediately. "For me, there wasn't a spark."
Her shoulders relaxed, and a small smile appeared on her face. "Well, I think I shall have something to eat and turn in early." She pressed a kiss to his cheek as she rose. "Goodnight, Harry. You know, words can't express how thankful I am for your saving the world."
Harry's eyes shined with unshed tears as he gently shook his head at her words. "Goodnight, Hermione. But remember, it wasn't just me. I might have played a part, but it was you and everyone else who truly helped to save it."
As Hermione departed, Severus longed for the bond between her and Harry and the unwavering support they provided for one another. He pondered how different his life could have been with such a friendship.
With Hermione gone, he ventured to flip over and found Harry removing his shirt. Severus' mouth instantly went dry at the sight of Harry's lean frame.
Cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoo…
"Severus, you're awake," said Harry with a pleased grin, his stunning gaze seeming to glow in the flickering candlelight. "Merlin, it's baking in here. I swear Ron's room is the worst. Poor bloke was cursed with a bedroom above the kitchen and utility room." Using his balled-up shirt, he wiped away the sweat on his chest.
Cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoo…
Severus yearned for his Occlumency shields. This inability to control his body and compartmentalise his thoughts was unbearable.
He had to get away.
Quickly standing and discreetly covering the bulge in his trousers, he rushed out of the sweltering room and to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Thoughts of Harry continued to swirl in his mind like a cyclone of forbidden desires. True, Harry's features did remind him of James and Lily, but it wasn't them he was currently thinking of. Now, his thoughts were consumed by the strong line of Harry's jaw…his muscular arms…his scent, and the shape of his cock beneath his—
Severus gasped, then moaned as his rigid member unexpectedly began to pulse in his jeans. Grabbing onto the edge of the basin with both hands, he closed his eyes, not wanting to see his reflection in the mirror as further pleasure assailed him. Time seemed to lose all meaning, his climax lasting twice as long as what he was used to.
In the aftermath, Severus gazed at his stunned expression, so alien on Ronald's face. He had never come to the thought of a man before, but based on the strength of this orgasm, he knew—and also feared—that this wouldn't be the last time.