Thank you again for all the reviews, and sorry for the long break!

Chapter Eight—Offerings

"Why are you burning that letter, Theo?"

Theo looks up. It's Harry, of course, because he's the only one who can enter Theo's bedroom without provoking some kind of alarm. "Because it's from Dumbledore. He wants me to meet with him."

Harry stares at him with his mouth open.

Theo nods, and finishes burning the letter, dusting ash off his hands with a few quick motions of his fingers.

Harry abruptly bursts into laughter, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees while his shoulders shake.

Theo smiles at him. It's good to see Harry looking calmer and more cheerful than he has for the last while. On one hand, he's making progress on Occlumency and managing to shut out some of the dreams Voldemort is sending him. On the other hand, as the time draws nearer when they need to go back to Hogwarts, Theo knows that he's worrying more about what Dumbledore will do, where Black will live while they aren't at Theo's house, how the students will react to Harry spreading the truth about that night in the graveyard, and many other things.

Theo can't ease all those fears, as much as he'd like to try, but at least he knows that he can keep Harry amused.

"What in the world do you think he thought he'd get out of it?" Harry asks at last, straightening and wiping some moisture from his mirth-bright eyes.

"Now, my dear boy, I must implore that you give up fucking Harry Potter for the good of the world," Theo says, in his best imitation of the Headmaster.

Harry once again bursts into laughter, so uninhibited and free and beautiful that Theo doesn't think twice about crossing the small distance between them. He reaches out and puts his hands on Harry's shoulders.

Harry at once leans up and kisses him. Theo kisses back, hands dancing down Harry's chest to the buttons of his robes.

Harry takes a sharp gasp against him. Theo stills at once. "Are you all right?"

"We haven't—we've never really taken off our robes before."

Theo raises his eyebrows, but when he thinks about it, it's true. He and Harry have touched each other's cocks, but only through a thin layer of cloth or with robes pulled back and pants lowered.

"I'd like to see you less clothed than that," Theo says steadily, his eyes on Harry's. "But I'm also fine with waiting if you feel uncomfortable."

Harry leans towards him and gives him a kiss so soft that it feels like wings darting across Theo's skin. Then he pulls back and says, "I wanted to make sure that you weren't uncomfortable. But I'd like to see you—naked."

He's flushing as he says it, but also smiling, and Theo can't help smiling back as he steps away and unbuttons his own robes.

Harry matches him movement for movement, his eyes glued to Theo's chest as he reveals it. Theo knows he has scars—how could he not, with the way he grew up?—but he turns his head a little to the side and flaunts himself.

When he turns back, Harry is flushing, and half-undressed.

And Theo can see his scars.

They're faint, most of them, old, and littered across the skin. Theo can see what look like remnants of the edges of doors, and cuts, and what might be a bite mark, of all things. Although maybe it's something else, some Muggle tool he doesn't know about.

Harry turns back around and gives a sharp sigh when he sees the direction of Theo's gaze. "Are you going to be weird about this?"

"Weird?" Theo manages to force his eyes up.

"Are you going to not want to sleep with me because of my scars?"

Harry's eyes are wide as he speaks the words, but his voice is calm and grim. Resigned. As if he thinks that Theo would be too shallow to want a scarred lover? Is that what he's thinking?"

Or has he been with someone else before, who turned away from him, and he assumes that Theo will do the same?

Concern and jealousy both drive Theo to prowl over to his boyfriend and put his hands on Harry's shoulders again. "I am ready to soothe you," Theo whispers. "To show whatever you require of me to prove that I want you. As if this doesn't." He thrusts forwards so that Harry can feel his erection.

Harry shivers, and his eyes darken. He says, "As long as you—don't mind."

"I would only mind if you thought that it was a reason not to give yourself to me. Do you think that?"

After a long moment, Harry hesitantly shakes his head. "I'm just new to this, Theo. And you're so handsome, and I'm smaller and skinnier, and you know why." He makes a helpless gesture at the scars on his chest. "You know where these came from."

"I do. And I honor you for surviving." Theo smiles as his fears of another lover are laid to rest. "What makes you think that I don't have other scars than these few, or that I'm not new to this, either?"

"You are?"

Harry's eyes are fastened on him, and shining like stars. Theo nods, smiling. "I never met anyone I would have trusted like this before you, especially since so many of the people I knew were ones that my father tried to manipulate against me." He slides his hand underneath Harry's chin and bends near to kiss him. "Will you let me take you to bed?"

Harry nods, dazed, wide-eyed, trusting. Theo leads him across the room, their laughter echoing together as Harry trips over his mostly-shed robes. Then Theo lays him down on the bed and kisses him on his chest, his scars, his legs when he reveals them, his thighs, all over his body.

On his cock.

Harry gives a sharp gasp as he arches his back, and his cock nearly pokes Theo in the eye. Harry is babbling apologies a second later, as if he assumes that Theo is going to stand and stalk out of the room, but Theo is simply staring at Harry's erection.

Then he bends down and starts to suck it.

Harry gives a startled cry this time and a buck that might have nearly flung Theo off, but Theo anticipated that, and he moves back a little so that he won't get jabbed or choked. Then he sinks down again, fingers gripping Harry's thighs, digging in, creating red marks, as he drapes his mouth over that enticingly scarlet cock again, and sucks.

Harry's head is rolling backwards on the pillow, his mouth stretched open and his chest heaving.

Theo gets in a few more good sucks before Harry makes a spluttering noise and comes. Theo draws back a little, again, so he doesn't get choked, but he mostly feels a sense of dark satisfaction as he swipes his fingers through the mess on Harry's stomach.

"I'm sorry—I didn't warn you—"

Theo leans up and kisses Harry, ignoring the way that he makes a murmur and a kind of grimace at tasting himself on Theo's tongue. "It doesn't matter," Theo whispers. "Truly, it doesn't. Would you like to do it to me?"

He thinks Harry might not want to, especially if he doesn't want to swallow. He doesn't anticipate the bright-eyed nod he gets, or the way that Harry hauls Theo around, positions him to Harry's satisfaction, and then crawls down the bed. Theo has the impression that he's still gaping at the ceiling when Harry fastens an eager mouth around him.

Theo arches his back and makes an undignified noise. Harry pulls back, coughing.

"I'm sorry—"

Theo reaches down with a shaking hand and caresses Harry's cheek. He can't stand the idea that his boyfriend would apologize for a feeling that brilliant. "It's all right. Try to relax your throat and let your tongue do most of the work. Breathe through your nose."

"Did you do this before?"

Theo revels for a single second in the discovery that he's not the only potentially jealous one in this room, and then shakes his head with a smile. "No. But that's what I've heard from Blaise and others who have."

"Okay."

Harry scrambles down again and starts to suck. Theo seizes the blankets and holds himself still. It's so warm, so tight, and little shivers run through his body with how he's restraining his actions. He wants to thrust, yes, but he'll have the chance later, he'll be able to show and teach Harry all sorts of things, and someday when he's inside Harry and has the warmth surrounding him that—

He loses the battle, and comes.

Harry coughs as if he's dying, but Theo doesn't mind that, or the gasping, choking noises, or the mess that Harry spits up onto his sheets. He reaches out and drags Harry up to him, greedily kissing his lips, running his tongue around the inside of Harry's mouth to get all the taste.

"You liked it?" Harry asks uncertainly, rearing back.

"What does it look like?"

Harry half-smiles, but he still appears a bit anxious, and Theo is forcibly reminded that Harry didn't get much praise until recently, even from people who should have given it to him. He runs his hand tenderly up Harry's shoulder blade and murmurs, "It was brilliant. You're brilliant. So great, Harry."

Harry laughs softly and brightly, and bends over to kiss him again. Theo rolls them so that they're resting side-by-side, and discovers that he can come back to half-hardness.

Harry immediately and happily takes advantage of the situation.

"Albus sent me a letter about sending you a letter."

Theo looks up with a scowl from his teacup. It's rude of Lupin to come downstairs this early in the morning when Theo was trying to daydream about his boyfriend and interrupt his musings with talk of Dumbledore. "What?"

"I said that Albus sent me a letter about sending you a letter. He was wondering if you ever meant to answer it."

"Why should I?"

Lupin pauses, apparently thinking that this is a novel way to approach the situation. Theo buries himself back in the strong tea and his memories of how Harry writhes when Theo sucks on his scars.

"You know that Albus is still the Headmaster of the school where you will spend the next three years," Lupin says at last. "And I've heard you say things about how you don't want to alienate him. That he's a powerful wizard whose help we need against You-Know-Who?"

Lupin's voice has risen near the end of that sentence, as if he is questioning his own memory while Theo sits in front of him with his tea and his silence. Theo finally drains the cup and gives it a mournful look, then sets it down and focuses on Lupin. Lupin promptly freezes like a rabbit.

Are there wererabbits? It would make a more fitting alternate form for him.

Theo shakes off the irrelevant idea and says, "We do need him on our side. But the letter said that he wanted to meet with him. I don't think I need to."

"Why not?"

Lupin is speaking calmly, but there's a shout compacted into the bottom of his voice. Theo smiles at him, and Lupin flinches.

"Because I know what he would say. That I should give up Harry, or send him back to his relatives, or stop him from doing things like spreading around the story of how Voldemort tried to come back in the graveyard—"

Lupin flinches so hard at the sound of the name that it's just as well that he didn't sit down and start partaking of breakfast. His throat works for a second, and then he clears it and manages to ask, "So? Do you think it would be so bad, to—to speak with him, and reassure him that you're on the same side?"

"He won't believe that unless I do exactly what he wants. Which I won't."

"You could at least meet him and make sure of that!"

Theo thinks a little about that as he munches on some of the bacon that Cassie made for him. He can hear stirring in the house overhead. Harry and probably Luna and Blaise will be down the stairs soon. It will take longer for Neville and Black. "Maybe I could."

"But?"

"But what?"

Lupin sounds as if he's speaking through gritted teeth. "It sounds as though you're looking for some reason to refuse."

"I simply don't know whether it would be a waste of time or not. We only have a fortnight until we go back to Hogwarts, you know. And I need some time to spend some time on my summer homework."

Lupin stares at Theo, makes a spluttery little noise, and stomps out of the kitchen. Theo smiles into the remains of his breakfast, and then summons Cassie so that she can fetch a scroll of parchment from his bedroom for him.

Time to make part of the excuse true.

"There is a powerful visitor at the wards, Master Theo."

Theo sighs and breaks off his explanation to Harry of why Snape's Potions essay is a lot simpler than it looks. "Let me guess, he has a long white beard?"

"Cassie is seeing longer."

Theo nods in resignation and stands up. He blinks a little when Harry does at the same time, outrage radiating around him like he's about to launch himself through the wards. "You don't need to come, you know."

"Why not? Don't you want me there?"

"It's possible that he could still read your mind, and your Occlumency is basic enough yet that you wouldn't feel him."

Harry snorts and latches onto Theo's arm as if he's a witch who needs to be dragged onto the dance floor. "I just won't look him in the eye, then. Besides, I'm going to be glaring at him most of the time anyway, not looking."

Theo laughs and gives in. He does have to wave to an anxious Neville as he leans out of his own room and say, "It's not your grandmother. It's just Dumbledore, coming to see why I refused his invitation to meet with me."

Inexplicably, this does not appear to reassure Neville. He follows them anxiously downstairs and towards the front entrance. At least he doesn't come outside, just watches from the front door as Theo and Harry walk to the edge of the wards. Right now, the wards are visible as a shining, silvery metallic wall across the front of the grounds, reacting to Dumbledore's power and mood.

The Headmaster stands behind them, and his eyes are fastened on Theo, his gaze heavy and disappointed. If he even notices that Harry is there, he gives no sign of it.

"My boy," he whispers. "What have you done?"

"Do you really want the details?" Harry asks, sounding mildly surprised.

Dumbledore twitches. Theo is glad, for once, that his father gave him plenty of practice in keeping his face straight.

"I was speaking to Mr. Nott," Dumbledore says.

"Funny, I didn't think you called Slytherins my boy."

Dumbledore turns so that he's looking fully at Theo, and Theo bites his lip and firms his jaw and doesn't howl the way he could have given what Harry said. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm studying hard for my OWL year, sir. You don't need to worry about that, or about me encouraging Harry to be lazy."

Dumbledore takes a deep breath. He doesn't plant his hand over his face, but Theo has the feeling that he would have liked to. "Very well. I shall rephrase my question. Why do you seem so determined to set us on opposite sides of the wall?"

"I'm not interested in doing that, sir," Theo says, keeping his voice as calm and respectful as possible. "But your letter was only an invitation to meet with you, and it didn't tell me any other information. And your questions to Harry and me here have been equally uninformative. Now you say that we're on opposite sides of the war? Why is that?"

"If you knew…"

"But I don't, which is why I asked you."

This time, Harry is the one who's making undignified choking noises. He's not as good at keeping a straight face as Theo. Theo thinks that he should add lessons in keeping calm to Harry's Occlumency lessons.

Although, thank Merlin, he won't have to teach Harry the same way his father taught him.

Dumbledore gives Theo another grave look, this time without the false edging of disappointment. He just appears deeply serious. "I am unaccustomed to explaining myself to schoolboys."

"But in this case, you can do that, or you can leave, and leave us wondering what you meant, as well."

Dumbledore's lips move, in a way that makes Theo think he might be asking Merlin for patience. Then he shakes his head and says, "I will not speak of the truth in the open air where Death Eater spies might overhear us. May I come inside your wards?"

Theo makes a couple fast calculations, while Harry stares at him. Neville is doing the same thing from the doorway behind him, he thinks.

There's Malfoy's insinuations that Theo doesn't have full control of the Nott wards, and there's Dumbledore's enormous power, which might mean he's able to tear through them.

But on the other hand, there's a particular trick that Theo's father told him about, and which he can use now.

"If you enter uninvited, sir."

Dumbledore takes a sharp breath. Harry leans against Theo. "What's that mean?" he murmurs, keeping his voice low enough that Dumbledore probably can't hear. Probably.

"It means that he can enter, but he'll barely be able to perform magic." Theo doesn't look away from the Headmaster as he speaks. "The wards will consider him an uninvited guest and watch him constantly. They'll restrict even small spells like a Lumos."

"It is an insult," Dumbledore says, shaking his head. He maintains his serious expression so flawlessly that Theo really isn't sure what he feels other than that. "An injustice."

"It's what you'll consent to, if you want to come inside the wards."

Dumbledore takes a few more moments to apparently commune with himself, or the wind, or whatever he really thinks makes him more impressive. Then he sighs and nods.

"I am aware that I am entering uninvited," he says, and steps up to the wards.

"Let him through," Theo tells them.

The wards snap and spark and waver back and forth, and then they withdraw. Albus Dumbledore takes his first step inside them, and winces from the feeling of them.

Theo smiles politely, and leads him up to the house. The wards hiss their displeasure in his mind, and Theo tells them, Watch him.

From their razor-edged keenness in his thoughts, Theo is sure that they'll pounce the moment Dumbledore tries something.

Which is all to the good, when Theo is inviting Dumbledore into the house that holds his most precious treasure in the world.