CHAPTER 27 - THE LAST LIGHT OF SUMMER

HELLOO DEAR READER!

Here we go, next installment.

ENJOY!

The last week of August had been hectic, even for Harry. McGonagall had declared all hands on deck and had involved everyone in the final stages of the castle's rebuilding. Harry, who had finished with the Gryffindor tower weeks ago and helped with the first floor, was again called up to help with other parts of the castle.

And with everyone's efforts, the castle had been restored to its former glory.

The school now looked as if a battle hadn't almost razed it to the ground. The huge towers stood proudly, none bigger and taller than the Astronomy tower. Everything was as it had always been. As it was before death and destruction tainted a castle that was supposed to harbour life, joy and knowledge inside.

Not blood, death and loss.

The castle stood proud as if the battle had never happened. But Harry couldn't shake the sense that some things wouldn't return to how they were meant to be—not here, and not in himself.

The war had changed everything too much and had created scars that would take very long to heal, if ever.

Today was August 31st.

Today was the last evening Harry would have the Gryffindor Tower and practically all the castle to himself. The following day the school would be filled with students, old and new, who came to the castle for a new school year.

And so for today, as he had done over the last week, he had risen early, preparing his body for the upcoming classes. He had joined Severus for breakfast at the dungeons and had annoyed him for a while before leaving him to work on his classes and syllabus. He could have gone to his room and read some of the materials he hadn't finished, but he'd much rather grab one of the school brooms and go to the Quidditch pitch. He scoffed to himself as he kicked the floor and flew around the pitch for a while.

Yes, he was much more motivated and interested in learning now than he'd ever been in the past. But nothing could make him read Professor Binn's materials before he actually had to listen to him. He'd endured enough torture, thank you very much! Besides, he knew it was doing his body some good by being as active. Just with the training of the past few weeks, he felt lighter, more alert and energetic.

He followed the structure of his last sessions, flying for a while and doing some tricks here and there. Then he descended and went on to do some strength training. Tossing the Quaffle, bodyweight exercises, three laps around the pitch and finishing with some stretching and mobility exercises.

He was panting and sweating by the time he finished, but he felt satisfied after the work he'd done, and his body was capable of handling it better. He made use of the shower in the changing room, it still felt weird to be training and showering without his teammates. And it would even be weirder when the team looked up to him for pep talk, guidance and technique. He remembered when he was an eleven-year-old boy, Oliver Wood seemed to be made for his role as Quidditch captain. He knew how to push them and when, and he was comfortable in his role as leader.

Harry, on the other hand, had felt grateful and glad to be made captain, but he'd seen how Ginny had done it. She had a stronger grip on the team, pushed them harder, and the results were just as good, if not better.

Harry sighed as he got out of the shower and ran the towel through his damp hair, his thoughts drifting to Ginny.

It wasn't the first time she'd crossed his mind lately. But something about these moments—alone, in the quiet after exertion—made his reflections feel heavier, harder to ignore. Ginny was supposed to be his girlfriend, the person he looked forward to seeing the most after a summer apart. And before that, he'd spent an entire year hunting Horcruxes, not even knowing if he'd survive. He sure as hell wasn't counting on it.

His mind flickered to the last weeks of his sixth year. Those summer days before the beginning of the end, before Dumbledore's death, before all hell broke loose… those days seemed to be reduced to Ginny's lips. To how she made him forget, for just an instant, that the fate of the Wizarding world was resting on his shoulders.

Now, the war was over, and he was free to have a relationship with her, to have what he'd always longed for.

And yet…

She was supposed to be the person he missed most after a summer apart, wasn't she? The person he couldn't wait to see again. But the truth didn't feel that simple.

He'd spent the last few days wondering why he wasn't counting down the hours until she walked through the castle doors. Why he wasn't imagining her smile or rehearsing the words he'd say when they met again?

He knew this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

After everything they'd been through—the war, the separation, all the losses—they should be running toward each other, not growing further apart. But the truth was, he hadn't written as often as he could have. And when he had, the letters had felt forced, like he was trying to remind himself how to be her boyfriend. The two times they'd seen each other it had felt weird, empty, as if it wasn't truly him.

As if he was just going through the motions.

Ginny deserved better than that, didn't she? Someone who thought of her the way he once had, with that fire and certainty. Not this strange, unsettling gap where his feelings should be.

Harry frowned, running a hand through his damp hair. It wasn't that he didn't care about her—he did. It was just that things felt different now.

He didn't know if it was the war, the year apart, or the fact that he wasn't the same person anymore. Maybe it was normal to feel that way after everything that had happened. Perhaps, once he saw her again, things would feel right.

But deep down, there was a small, nagging voice that wondered if that wasn't true at all.

He sighed as his feet took him back to the castle. Before he entered the Great Hall he shook his head, not wanting to focus his thoughts on her on his last day of freedom.

When he crossed the door to the Great Hall most of the teachers were sitting on the now usual round table in the middle of the room. Severus had a free seat beside him, and Harry wondered if it had been Severus's doing, or the rest of the teachers. In any case, he sat down and greeted all the teachers, smiling up at Severus as he sat.

"This will be the last meal we'll have here until the Welcoming Feast," McGonagall announced once Harry sat down. "This evening and tomorrow we'll leave the Great Hall, so the Hogwarts elves can clean it thoroughly before the start of term. You are welcome to request tonight's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast, lunch and dinner wherever you want, as long as it's in the castle premises."

There were a few noises of agreement before the food appeared on their plates, and Harry began to eat, feeling ravenous. He pushed his hair back from his face as he looked at Severus, sitting on his left.

"How was your morning, Severus?"

"It went well, I went to Horace's office to discuss last-minute decisions," he replied, taking a sip of water and serving himself some potatoes. "I see your training went well… by how you're devouring your food…"

Harry scoffed and shrugged with a smirk.

"What if I now become the next Viktor Krum?"

Severus flared his nostrils and shook his head vigorously.

"Merlin save us, I certainly hope not. One Seeker with dust for brain matter is more than enough, no need for another," Severus said, and Harry chuckled.

"He wasn't that bad, come on. He used magic skillfully in the Triwizard Tournament," Harry said

"He used magic, yes. Skillfully, not so much," Severus muttered.

Harry chuckled and shrugged.

"Well, at least we can agree he's a fantastic Quidditch player," Harry said, "or you don't believe that either?"

Severus blinked at him and shrugged.

"I haven't had the pleasure of seeing him, unfortunately. I was… preoccupied with the events at the Quidditch World Cup," he replied.

Harry nodded, knowing very well what he meant by that.

After lunch, both Harry and Severus walked to the latter's quarters, to have some tea.

"You've been awfully quiet today, Harry. Is there something on your mind?" Severus asked after a while, sitting on the couch beside the fire, as he passed Harry his cuppa.

Harry sighed and shook his head.

"Nothing, I've just been thinking… it feels like my life has been paused for a while. Looking after you and rebuilding the castle were my only responsibilities. I didn't have to answer questions or deal with anything else. And now, things are going back to normal," he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Severus, though, took a deep sigh as he nodded, and gently nudged him.

"I feel the same," he replied, "how is my life going to look like now that there are no Masters to serve from the shadows?"

Harry gave him a small smile.

"Better than it has ever looked like," Harry replied, "and on your terms, which is essential."

Severus nodded and then leaned to his side.

"And yours? Back to your friends, your girlfriend, your Quidditch?"

Harry nodded and felt his stomach drop and twist inside of him, something pressing in his chest.

"You don't look too excited. Aren't you happy you can go back to your old life without the Dark Lord looming over you?"

"Yes, I am. No… I don't know," he admitted, looking down at his lap, at the patterns of the blanket covering his legs. "I want to go back and study and do homework like a normal bloke. But… I also know this summer has been our little respite of freedom and privacy. And we won't have that again."

Severus nodded, swallowing.

As if in slow motion, Harry watched as Severus pulled away and sat straighter. His entire body tensed, his back straight and shoulders squared. His black curtain of hair came to cover his face as he left his teacup on the coffee table.

Harry blinked in a stupor as he realised it had been months since Severus had last done that in his presence. It had been a long time since he'd hidden from him, had pulled away, had protected himself from him.

He felt a painful pang in his chest as he blinked.

"If you think you won't have time for us, please, do let me know as soon as—"

"What? What are you saying?"

Harry took stock of Severus and saw his expression hardened behind his mask, though it was cracking. His eyes were cold, black pools full of emotions that were kept carefully hidden.

But Harry knew. Harry could read them.

"Hey, Severus, that's not what I meant at all," Harry rushed to say, leaving the cup on the table and shifting closer. But Severus kept his body at arm's length, tense, his eyes avoiding his gaze.

"Tomorrow the students will return, and the new year will start," Severus said in a cold, even tone, "I will have responsibilities. And your time will already be strained between your studies, your friends and Quidditch. It's inevitable that you will… have little time for us."

A heavy, cold dread settled in Harry's lower stomach at Severus's words, at the resigned tone of his voice. He shifted closer to Severus, resting against his body, and sought his hand under the blanket they were sharing. His fingers were cold and gripped his hand tight as soon as they found it.

"Severus… look at me. Look," Harry whispered in a soft, caring voice.

He tugged at his hand, insistent. When Severus finally locked eyes with him, a chill ran through Harry's back, followed by a shudder and a warm tug coming from their connected hands.

His eyes were glistening, still hard but beneath that, there was a fear and need that warmed the deepest part of Harry's soul. He squeezed Severus's hand firmly, anchoring them both in the moment.

"Listen," he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion. "I know this year is going to be busy and we'll both have responsibilities pulling us in every direction. But don't believe, for one second, that we won't make time for us."

Severus's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing as if bracing for a contradiction.

"You can't promise that, Harry," he whispered, and his eyes were distant, dull.

"I can and I am. You're not just someone I talk to when things are quiet and easy." He leaned in, their faces mere inches apart. "You're part of my life, Severus. No amount of homework, Quidditch practice, or whatever else can change that."

Severus's lips parted slightly, a question forming, and Harry nodded his head, willing him to say what was on his mind.

"And your… friends? Weasley didn't take it too kindly, and it's doubtful he will have changed his mind over the summer…"

"I've given time to my friends to accept that you're part of my life now. If they don't get it, that's on them—not on us," Harry said, shrugging.

He then leaned forward and nuzzled Severus's nose with his.

"Remember after Diagon Alley? What we discussed?" Severus nodded, once, his eyes glistening, "what we have is real, Severus. This is important. You are important. Remember that, okay?"

Severus seemed to take a moment, his breathing audible in the almost silent living room. Harry saw the subtle tremor in his hands, the weight of everything that he wasn't saying firmly on his shoulders.

Finally, all the tension Severus had been holding left him and his shoulders sagged, as he almost fell against him.

A sudden surge of need and desire washed over Harry, and he opened his arms just as Severus let his body sag against him, leaning into him. Severus's hands tugged at his shirt, pulling him close, wanting to feel the warmth of his body. Harry wrapped his arms around him, letting him bury his face against his neck, feeling him breathing hard.

"You are enough for me, Severus," he whispered, and he heard his voice thick with all the emotions he was feeling, "nobody understands me as well as you do. Never doubt that…"

Severus, now unable to hold back, let out a small whimper as pressed his head against him, clinging to him.

"I thought this would never… that I'd never—" he trailed off, his words raw and unpolished. He exhaled sharply, as though unburdening himself had left him hollow. "But here you are."

Emotions coursed through Harry, and he nodded, pressing a kiss on Severus's temple, overcome by a mixture of relief, deep affection, and warmth.

"And I'm not going anywhere," Harry whispered, keeping Severus close.

For a moment, they simply held each other, the fire crackling softly in the background.

And Harry promised, there and then, that he would keep his word. No matter how busy he was, how demanded his time was… he would always make time for Severus. He owed to him, to the man now clinging to him, to the man that was able to let him see how he wanted, needed him in his life.

He couldn't break his heart.

It was a few hours later that Severus looked back at Harry.

They'd had dinner together and were now enjoying a cup of herbal tea, huddled up on the couch, sharing a blanket. The fire was blazing on the fireplace, warming the room, keeping the cold at bay, at the crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room.

Severus could see Harry was anxious. He could see it in the way his forehead had creases and wrinkles, in the way his eyebrows furrowed, in the way he clutched at his teacup, with too much force. Even in the way he sat, his legs under his bum and his back straight. He normally slouched on the couch as soon as Severus draped the blanket over both of them.

Severus also felt something inside of him. After so many years of teaching, he still felt that bit of anxiety and nerves the evening before September 1st. This year, more than any other, he dreaded seeing the students' faces, old and new.

"Are you eager to start?" Severus asked as he shifted and nudged Harry with his foot, the blanket moving with the movement.

Harry looked at him and nodded slowly.

"I am," he said, "but I'm also… kind of nervous. I guess I always was, but this is the last time it'll happen."

"It's just the first two or three days, then you get into the rhythm of class and homework," Severus said, "as long as you have a schedule to follow, it will work."

Then, Severus looked at Harry, blinking.

His eyes glanced to the door, and back to Harry, an idea quickly forming in his mind.

Now was the time.

He stared at Harry, his dark eyes calm but resolute.

"Something on my face?" Harry asked, his hand drifting self-consciously to his forehead, likely thinking of his scar.

Severus shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"Come with me."

He rose from the couch and extended his hand, his movements deliberate. Harry hesitated, narrowing his eyes, but after a moment, he reached out and allowed Severus to pull him up. Severus led him to the door, pausing in front of it with quiet intent.

It took Harry only a second to realise where they were going, and he faltered, taking a small step back. His gaze darted between Severus and the door, his brow furrowing. The memory of their last attempt must have crossed his mind. How he'd refused, seeing the gesture for what it had been at the time: a desperate attempt to keep him close, to make sure he'd be back.

But now, it was different. Now, Severus felt different and wanted to do this. For them.

"Hold out your hand," he whispered.

Harry's hesitation lingered, his fingers curling slightly at his sides.

"Severus, I know what you're doing, but you don't have to—"

Before Harry could finish, Severus took his hand with deliberate care, guiding it to the wooden door.

For a few seconds, everything was still, only their breaths audible in the room.

Then, the air shifted as a surge of magic suddenly expanded from the door, pulsing outward.

Severus felt it in the room, felt his hair blown back as if a sudden gust of wind had entered the space. Harry's hand, connected with the wooden door, was glowing with a golden aura as the magic worked.

The light intensified until it spilt golden rays across the room. It wasn't just energy—it was warmth, like a hearth fire on a winter's night, wrapping around them both.

Gradually the energy began to fade, as the magic pulsed one last time.

And then, it was gone.

As the light faded, Severus released Harry's hand.

He glanced at him, observing how Harry's fingers lingered against the door, as though he could still feel the magic thrumming beneath the wood. Harry's hair was dishevelled, his breath uneven as he turned to Severus with wide, searching eyes.

"Now you're added to the magical signature," Severus said, his voice quiet, steady.

Harry swallowed, his lips parting slightly before he found his voice. "I… I don't know what to say. You didn't have to do this. I—"

"I know," Severus interrupted gently. "But I wanted to. Now you can come here, any time you want."

Harry's eyebrows rose and he smiled.

"Are you sure, Severus? I wouldn't want to intrude, or—"

"You won't," Severus interrupted him, leaning forward. He breathed out, his voice lowering, deepening, "You won't."

He had so many things to say, so many words that died in his mouth, he found it impossible to utter them. But he looked at Harry, trying to convey everything he was incapable of saying with his eyes.

His cold, trembling hand slowly moved to touch Harry's cheek. He cupped it with as much tenderness and affection as he could muster, his throat tight as he watched his green eyes glistening in the warm light. He stroked the cheek, his thumb caressing just below his eye, tracing the scar on his cheek.

"I won't let you down," Harry breathed out, thick.

Severus smiled and nodded, his heart thumping in his chest.

Harry closed his eyes, and in that split second, it was as if he'd let his instincts guide him. He slowly turned his head as he captured Severus's wrist with his hand. He nuzzled the pale skin, smelling and letting his breath graze against it. It was warm, and it sent shivers down Severus's spine. Slowly, painfully slowly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to his inner wrist, right atop his pulse point.

When Harry's lips touched the delicate skin, Severus froze. The sensation was startling—not just the warmth of Harry's lips but the flood of emotions it brought. Trust. Affection. The desire to hold onto this fleeting moment forever.

It terrified him, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away.

His breath tickled the skin on his wrist, and Severus repressed a shudder. Not letting go of his hand, Harry leaned forward.

He had grown a bit over the summer but he was still short enough to tuck his head under Severus's chin, resting against his chest. The young man tightened his hold, and Severus looked down, at the way his hair glowed with the warm light of the fireplace.

"Thank you," Harry only said in a breathy whisper that sent shivers to Severus's skin.

That night, even after Harry had gone to the Gryffindor tower, Severus's body felt warm, as if he could still recall the warmth of Harry's body against his. His heart beating next to his, almost in sync.

THAT'S ALL!

Next up, September 1st. We'll see how things change for them once the school year starts!

Any ideas, insights, predictions? Things you'd like to see? Let me know, and if I can I'll work them out inside the story!

As always, thank you for your continuous support, it means the world to me.

Enjoy your week, see you around!