Chapter Thirteen

It smelled so bad, the stench of the troll creeping into his nose, but as much as he wanted to leave —move from this spot— he was frozen inches from the troll. Had he just killed it? How had he even made it off its head? How was he alive? How were any of them alive? They could have died!

Harry felt his breathing picking up in a panic as his mind whirled with the anxieties. Why did he listen to Ron? He had wanted to tell his Professor, but Ron convinced him it would be okay. The troll was in the dungeon, and this way, no one would know Hermoine was crying here all day because of him. And how was Harry supposed to convince him that his Professor was helpful —and he would listen— he was the only one who listened? Even after Ron had seen his Professor be nice, his Professor was the evil vampire man out to ruin Gryffindor's house points!

Harry could hardly stand to hear much more about how evil the 'greasy git of the dungeon' was, but he had no choice. It had been a month since his Professor had taken over as his guardian, and Harry was always lying to attend his lessons with his Professor. Their dormmates were curious about where he was going, but Harry knew it was better to keep it a secret. They would never understand how much Harry appreciated the man and how understanding his Professor was when he was teaching him about wizarding customs and history. Ron wouldn't even agree to cover for him because he thought it rubbish he had to have extra lessons.

Harry could hardly explain that they were more than that. He was learning so much from the man, but having an adult spend so much focused attention on him was so new, and it lit Harry's insides with warmth like a pyre. It felt nice to have someone care about him and speak to him, and he was keeping more secrets to keep that from stopping.

Harry was sure his Professor would stop their lessons if he knew how badly he was doing in Transfiguration or how much pain and lack of focus he had in Defense. Word of his guardianship had not reached the staff, so Harry hoped his grades would remain a secret from his Professor.

"What is going on here?"

Harry flinched from the shout from Professor McGonagall, but it was just the shake he needed to move from his frozen reverie. Unluckily, the shout made him curl into himself, worried about how much trouble he had to be in now that the Professor was here. That feeling doubled as his Professor and Professor Quirrel entered through the door.

Harry bit his lip and let his hands twine together almost immediately. He was sure his Professor would dump his guardianship the second he could now that he realised how much trouble Harry was. Harry hated himself for letting this happen, for going along with Ron. He would be in so much trouble and have to return to the Dursleys after all.

"Harry."

Harry jolted as large hands wrapped around his wrists and tugged his hands apart. Harry let them be pulled to his sides while his whole body seemed to heave for breath. How was he still alive? Why did he let this happen? He knew it would end, but how could it be so soon?

Harry felt something streaming down his lip before a vial was pressed to it. He wanted to refuse, but it was already being tilted into his mouth. Harry swallowed, his eyes squeezed shut to keep from seeing how angry his Professor had to be, but soon a rush of relief ran through him, causing his eyes to slit in the calm wave crashing over him.

"Better?"

Harry didn't look at the voice but nodded, feeling an increasing exhaustion sweeping into his limbs. His body felt noodle-like as he stood there, swaying slightly. Harry felt himself be picked up but let himself relax into the body now holding him to their chest—the familiar smells of potions and cedar caused him to slump further into his Professor. Harry sighed, happy to be held, if likely for the last time. He would take all the comfort he could get from the man while he had him.

"The potion is acting to relax you, Harry. It is called a calming draught. I do not believe I have ever seen you this relaxed."

Harry huffed when the voice that had been rumbling beneath him stopped speaking. It had been nice to hear the rumbly tones right beside his ear. "Ah, my apologies. Do you think you can tell me what occurred here this evening, Harry?"

"No, you'll hate me."

Harry felt and heard the man sigh, but he wouldn't look up to see his expression. He was very comfortable here and would not be moved until his Professor finally dumped him off to never care for him again.

Harry felt a hand run through his hair and snuggled into the hand. "I could never hate you, Harry. I only wish to understand what occurred so that we can have an honest discussion about consequences and proper action should anything transpire again. Merlin willing, it will not."

"You're not mad at me?"

Another pet to his head paired with, "I am not. Please, just tell me how this came about, Harry."

"We were following everyone when I remembered Hermoine had been in the bathroom all day."

"Why was Ms. Granger in the facilities? Was she sick?"

Harry felt a tad edge of worry niggle him because he knew Ron was likely to get in trouble for bullying Hermoine. However, Harry also knew that bullying was wrong, and he was still feeling rather cross with Ron for what he said. "Ron insulted her after charms because she tried to help him with Wingardium Leviosa. Her roommates said she was in the bathroom crying."

The hum from his Professor sounded contemplative, and Harry felt himself shifting from the little anxiety and guilt creeping past his calming draught. "I see. Where were you when this happened, Harry?"

"With Ron, but I didn't say anything mean to her. And, I even told Ron he shouldn't have said that."

"But you did not try to check on Ms. Granger. I am disappointed in you, Harry, but this discussion will happen later. Continue with what led us here."

The guilt churned unpleasantly through Harry, but he knew that he would have to deal with it. "Ron wanted us to go find her, and I said we should tell you, but Ron didn't want to be in trouble. So, I went along with his idea that we would just go get Hermione. The troll was supposed to be in the dungeons. We never expected it to be here, but we couldn't just leave her."

The hand was back rubbing through his hair, soothing him as his emotions tried to fight the calm from the potion. "I cannot expect you to leave her, Harry. I am not so cruel to think you could live with yourself after, but I do expect you not to get into this situation. Can you see where you could have course corrected?"

"I should have told you. I should have checked on her earlier or told a teacher she was missing before the feast. I'm sorry, please don't give me back to the Dursleys."

Harry was made to lift his chin—his eyes finally meeting those of his Professor. There wasn't a speck of anger in his expression, just very furrowed brows and tight lips that Harry thought meant he was worried. The expression soothed part of him that was ready to be yelled at, but he still felt the writhing guilt in his stomach from the disappointment he had caused.

"Harry, I know we are both fairly new to this, but I want you to understand that I will continue to be your guardian. No matter what occurs, no matter how much trouble you get into, no matter how many grey hairs you give me. I am in this for the foreseeable future and beyond. You are my charge, and I would never abandon you. Further, no one shall ever be able to send you back to the Dursleys. Should you ever wish to relinquish me as a guardian, we will find other suitable alternatives, not those monsterish muggles."

Harry shoved his face into the man's chest, unable to vocalise his relief and still affected enough by the calming draught to not blubber all over the man. "Thank you, sir."

The man hummed, a firm hand holding the back of his head. "Do not thank me yet, Harry. We will be having a lengthy discussion tomorrow about the consequences of your actions. Understood?"

Harry nodded, his relief over their conversation too great to make him worry about his punishment. His eyes were still feeling weighed with exhaustion, and his limbs were heavy. The consequence was him yawning broadly and his Professor chuckling softly at his expense.

"It is very late. Shall I carry you to the hospital wing to join your fellow co-conspirators?"

Harry's eyes widened as he sat up in his Professor's lap. He looked around to see they were in a corridor alcove, and he had no clue as to where they had moved or when. It must have been when he first took the calming draught. He should have known his Professor wouldn't have sat with him near the troll. His Professor would never have left him somewhere so dangerous.

"Where did everyone go, sir?"

"Professor Quirrell is seeing to the knocked-out troll, and I had Professor McGonagall take the other two miscreants to the hospital wing to be seen by Madame Pomphrey. You are also not fully healed, especially that lip. I require you to stop injuring yourself, Harry."

Harry looked down, nodding his head. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry. Did everyone see?"

"See? I assume you mean me caring for you?" Harry glanced up at the man and nodded. "Yes, I have not decided what to do about Professor Quirrell. The man may go to the Headmaster or the press, and I can only think to head him off with Albus. But, nevermind all that, this is my concern, not yours. I assume you too will have information to disclose. I trust you will persuade Ms. Granger to be discreet. If she is not convinced, I also trust you will inform me so I may take care of the situation."

Harry nodded, his head wanting to move more enthusiastically, but his body did not have it in him. "Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me tell her. I don't like lying so much." Dread crept past the potion. "If Professor Dumbledore knows, does that mean all the teachers will know?"

His Professor cocked an eyebrow, and Harry realised how his tone must have come across to the man. "Worried, Harry?"

Harry had dug his own grave with the question, so he nodded. "Yes, sir. I-I've been lying a lot, and not just to my friends. I have trouble with Transfiguration. It's so hard, and it makes no sense. I mean, how can something change into another thing? And Defense… I'm having trouble focusing because I keep getting headaches. And Professor Quirrel won't even tell us about his time in Romania, and he stutters so much no one understands his lectures."

Harry did not maintain eye contact with his Professor, but he was sure the man was looking at him with disappointment. "I want you to know I appreciate you informing me, Harry, but I would be remiss to not see that you only came clean when you were sure to be caught. I am very disappointed in your actions and will speak with you at length about it. This will also have to be discussed tomorrow. However, I want to be clear, no matter what you do, I will remain your guardian. Nothing you have said will change that. For now, we need to head to the hospital wing."

Harry felt tears creep down his cheeks in his shame and tucked his face into his Professor's neck. The man allowed it and stood with him propped on his hip. Harry tried not to feel embarrassed as he was carried like a far younger child, but he also felt warmth from having been reassured by the man and still given comfort while he was obviously in major trouble.

They reached the hospital wing, and his Professor took him to a bed and settled him beneath the covers, tucking him in tightly. Harry smiled softly from the motions and glanced up at his Professor through his fringe. The man smoothed his hair back before turning to call out for Madame Pomphrey.

The mediwitch bustled around, producing salves and potions for Harry to drink and gag over, but through his treatment, his Professor never left his side. The man was a hovering presence that made Harry's body thrum with contentment. The matron finally finished healing him and topped him off with a Dreamless Sleep, the potion causing his eyes to droop instantly. The last thing Harry felt before succumbing was the feel of his glasses being removed, a firm hand rubbing through his hair, and what could only be a light kiss placed on his forehead.

Snape

Severus felt relief as his charge drifted off in the hospital bed. The whole evening had been arduous; at first due to the date and its significance to his life and then when he had followed that bastard Quirrell. The man was a menace, acting as if he had fainted and then sneaking into the third-floor corridor. Severus had not been fooled, but if not for his alarms on Harry ringing, he was sure he would have caught the man in the act.

As it was, Severus had dragged the man with him when he received the alert, claiming to have need of his expertise. It had been hard to keep himself from running, but to have reached the boy in the middle of a panic attack—Severus was sure to have a few new greys at his temples or at least in his facial hair.

Calming the boy had been second nature as he had become accustomed to allaying the boy's fears and anxieties, many that there were—for good reason. The pure panic the child felt had made Severus's heart race with worry, more so when he glimpsed the boy's futile battle with a fully grown mountain troll in those too-green eyes. The transferable panic and subsequent relief that flooded Severus had made him want to both cry and cling to the boy like some grief-stricken mother. It was a rather disconcerting few moments, and he was sure he would have to deal with those emotions when he allowed his occlumency barriers to relax.

The boy's worries have been constant these past few weeks, whether concerning doing well in their lessons, bothering Severus, or any other manner of issues sprung from continuous abuse from the Dursleys. Severus felt he was fielding them well, but now, catching the boy lying about doing poorly in class, Severus felt unsure and second-guessed just how well he was doing with the boy.

"I should speak with Lucius," he muttered aloud to the occupied hospital wing.

With that idea firmly at the forefront, Severus strode all the way to his quarters. He took no pauses as he threw in the floo powder and called out for Malfoy Manor. It was late enough that Severus worried his partner would already be asleep, but he should have known better. Even without tonight's extra occurrence, Halloween was a known struggle for Severus, and Lucius was awake and waiting in his armchair by the floo.

The sight of the regal man perched for him, waiting to offer him whatever he needed, caused a fond smile to twitch onto Severus's usually dower face. The blonde stood quickly, moving toward the floo in only a few steps. Severus's face did not change as he watched such a poised being as Lucius Malfoy hustle to reach him, the power of that connection causing his blood to sing. "Lucius, come through to me."

The man nodded, and Severus stepped away from the floo, waiting for his partner to join him. He took those few moments to accio some drink for them both and to remove a few restricting layers. His lover took little time to raise wards for the floo and privacy before intercepting him. Severus allowed the more tactile of them to hold him to the man and stroke through his hair. He even admitted to himself that the comfort was helping him to relax more from the scare he had had tonight.

"Sev, are you shaking?"

Severus realised that he was shaking and noted that his carefully placed occlumency barriers were automatically lowering in his partner's arms. It took little time for him to feel the crashing of conflicting emotions battling for the forefront of his brain. The frustration of this phenomenon caused tears to leak down his cheeks. Overwhelmed and aggravated by the loss of control, he buried his face in Lucius' neck, using the curtains of his hair to hide from the vulnerability.

The blonde spent the next several minutes speaking softly at him while Severus worked through the emotions of the evening, allowing his mind to feel and logicize everything that had occurred. With a sigh, he took control of himself and pulled away from the comfort of his lover's arms. That was futile as the blonde was being as much a limpet as Harry.

"Lucius, might I take back my person?"

"I do not consider that the correct action at this time, dear."

Severus cocked an eyebrow and drew himself up to look down at Lucius. "Are you drunk, Lucius?"

Severus felt and heard the man snort. "Hardly, Sev. I am just feeling protective of your vulnerability. Will you please just allow me to hold you? Do what you will in that sharp mind of yours, dear one."

Severus sighed, allowing the motion to release his tense breath from his lungs and slump into the man's hold. He could allow Lucius this one request as the man was usually very protective of those he loved and very tactile. Severus had become accustomed to random bouts of affectionate entrapment. Random was more of a stretch, as Severus was aware it happened more often on days Lucius knew Severus would be having a hard time. The man was so much more perceptive of emotions compared to Severus.

Severus spent the time layering his memories and going over what he could discuss with Lucius. He needed the man to help him, and though Severus would hardly consider himself a parent, Lucius had parental expertise that would serve well in his guardianship of Harry Potter—while the boy still wanted him, that is.

"Can we move to the sitting area, Lucius? I fear this hold will eventually cause a crick in my neck, seeing as you are so far below me," Severus teased.

Severus was freed as the blonde peacock drew back, an accusatory finger now in Severus' chest. "You know you are only five centimeters taller, Severus. I hardly think you tower over me enough to develop a crick in your lovely neck. However, I could see that development coming from you having such a large stick up your—"

"Lucius, as if you are not the definition of pureblood decorum," Severus interrupted with an arched brow.

They spent a moment gazing at each other before each had a small laugh, disrupting the atmosphere. Severus gestured to the sofa, and Lucius obliged by seating himself directly in the centre. Severus rolled his eyes at the lack of subtlety and sat himself at the man's side without complaint. Severus knew he had to let the man win some of their battles if he wished to keep his bed warmed by the prissy man. Said man captured Severus' hand, grasping it in both of his. Severus dismissed all feelings except grateful admiration for his wonderful partner.

"You are wonderful."

Severus had not meant to say as much, but Lucius blushed so appealingly at the compliment that he had no regrets. "I have much to tell you from what has been an admittedly trying day."

"I know how this day hurts you, Sev."

Severus nodded. "And yet it was not my grief that caused my upset."

Lucius cocked his head in curiosity, and Severus rose to the baited expression. He explained to the man what had occurred that night, sparing no details in the rendition, including his suspicions of Quirrell. The blonde was uncharacteristically quiet, listening without interruption. When he finished, Lucius had made him a drink that was handed over to Severus without comment.

Severus took a few fortifying sips as he was sure Lucius was about to get into more emotional conversations than the logical explanation Severus had just completed. "Your reaction makes so much more sense after you explained, dear. That had to be horrifying to witness, even after the fact. But, Harry, is now fine, correct?"

Severus nodded, a smile peaking his lips at the concern his partner had for his ward. "I had calmed him before taking him to Poppy, but she healed him quickly. He hadn't been severely injured, just some bruising and scrapes," Severus' smile fell as he recalled one injury that continued to bother him, "except of course biting through his lip."

Lucius nodded. "He had been through a trying time. Some anxiety is expected, but you said he was not anxious about the troll," he led with a lilted tone.

"No, he was more fearful of my reaction to the events. He thought I would be angry and return him to those monsters. As if I could ever allow them in his vicinity! I assured him, as I will always do so. I could never give Harry up. Of course, should he wish for it, I would find him another guardian, which of course he may choose."

Severus stopped his monologue as something odd was happening to his throat. It felt tight, and Severus worried he had spoken too much tonight. That would be the only explanation for his throat tightening, and the feeling also contributed to the stinging in his eyes, of course.

"Why would Harry not want you for a guardian, Sev? Nothing you explained would make the boy want to dissolve your relationship."

Severus stood, needing to pace. "I have been giving him so many lessons that the child is struggling through Transfiguration. His chronic headaches in Defense have continued unreported, and I had not checked in with him. Of course, he would never come to me. I am a horrible, taskmaster of a teacher. Who would want to learn from me outside designated class time? Who would want me for my bedside manner when hurt?"

"Haven't you been giving him lessons for a month now on things he missed from growing up with muggles?"

Severus sneered. "That is not the point, Lucius! He kept this from me, and rather than go to me for help, he continued to lie. I am a horrible guardian." Severus stopped abruptly when he heard a laugh from the sofa. He whipped around so fast that his hair clouded his sight. "What do you find funny about this, Lucius?"

The blonde rolled his eyes before standing and approaching cautiously. Severus allowed the man to take his hands, a squeeze from each reassuring him. "Not your feelings, dear one. Never those. I just forget how hands off you were with Draco until the divorce, and sometimes it shows. Children lie to their parents, dear. They are notorious for it. As for him not coming to you for help, these things take time. He has been with you a month. He was with them for ten years. I am certain he was not allowed to ask for even a modicum of help."

Severus flushed at logic being used against him. "Of course, I know that. I just… I am floundering in the dark with no guidance."

Lucius pulled him back against him, running a hand through his hair to soothe him. "All you have to do is ask, dear. I am always here for you, and while I may not have made the best choices in parenting, I can at least advise you on what not to do."

The self-deprecation caused Severus to smirk. "I have to speak with him tomorrow. Set punishments and try to get to the bottom of his behaviour. I did not have it in me to do so tonight."

Lucius nodded and led them both back to their chairs, pouring Severus another few fingers of fire whiskey. "I fear I will also need to speak with Albus. Quirrell saw us interact when Harry had his panic attack. Minerva will be unable to cover it up should the man wish to blabber to the old codger or even the papers."

Lucius sighed, tipping his own glass back. Severus felt his face heat. Lucius caught his eye and lowered his glass to show his smirk. "I am sure we can tailor this narrative should it leak to the press, Severus. I suggest you inform the old man, but the paper will be unnecessary until we know Quirrell's play."

"So you suggest I probe Quirrell and what? Convince the old man of the validity of my actions? The —abuse does not exist, family does not hurt one another, privacy to deal with family matters is more important than a child's life— Headmaster! Yes, he is so known for his sensibility in these matters!"

Lucius gripped his wrists, making Severus realise he had been digging his fingernails into his hands. A habit he had beaten in his early years in Slytherin to an extent but somehow always came back to in times of high stress and anger. A commonality Severus noted he shared with Harry and likely sourced from the same childhood traumas that Severus wished they did not share. "No one said this would be easy, Severus. However, it does not matter what the old man says or thinks, you were given guardianship. Harry is your charge. You won't let him convince you otherwise, correct?"

Severus wanted to draw his hands away, feeling slight at the question, but Lucius gripped him tightly. Severus huffed, looking down at their connection. "I would never allow the old man to take him from me."

"Or convince you Harry is better off with someone else?"

Severus scowled. "As if the old codger has any idea about what is good for the welfare of a child. The only person who could get me to walk away is Harry."

"Good then we will table that discussion for after your meeting with Albus. No need to worry about it, and we can always use my contacts to smooth any bumps in the road." Severus watched as the man shifted in his seat—seemingly in nerves. "I would actually like to discuss spending more time with your charge."

Severus arched his signature brow. "You, spending time with Harry?"

The blonde nodded, his face devoid of emotion. "I find myself worrying about the fast-coming holiday break. We will be in one location—hopefully—together, and I have not met with the boy in any capacity except his lawyer. I know we are not betrothed… however, I would like to take a more active role in the child's life, as you have tried with Draco."

Severus smiled in appreciation of his partner for wanting to interact with a child Lucius had no real ties to but wanted to know because of how much he meant to Severus. The rush of warmth in his body caused a more relaxed expression to grace his expression, likely helped along by the whisky. "You are welcome to any of our meetings, love."

Severus winced at the rougher cockney accent he had escaped from childhood, glinting in his voice, but he need not worry as the only reaction Lucius had to his epithet was to kiss him soundly. Severus pushed into the kiss before returning to Earth with his concerns about their coming holiday.

"We should discuss the holiday, Lucius. Specifically Draco. He has not been bullying Harry from what I can tell, and I assume Narcissa is working behind the scenes."

"So she has said in our nearly weekly talks." The frown that marred Lucius' face caused Severus to sit up straight in concern. "I miss her so much since she has left the manor. Especially with you here, Draco in his first year and not wanting to speak to me. I have gone from a home with the family I love to a giant gilded cell alone. Do you think we can convince them to move in with us?"

Severus could tell the man had become more inebriated by the sadness lacing his tone. Lucius was not one for expressing sadness, likely due to his childhood of sad and longing loneliness and an unwillingness to dwell in those feelings. Severus felt horrible that the man had to feel that now as an adult, alone in a huge manor after having created a family to fill the hole made by his childhood with Abaraxus. The pain of his sympathy caused his chest to tighten, and Severus blamed his own alcoholic-induced state for how he grabbed the man and held his head cupped to his heart. "Love, why did you keep this from me? You have no reason to hide this from me. I understand how hard this must be for you. I want to support you."

Severus felt tears soaking into his button-down and slightly shaking breaths. "I did not want to distract you, dear one. You have so much you must do, and we spend time together throughout the week. It is just… I am home alone in a cold bed one too many nights with only my morose thoughts for company."

"No matter what I have going on, my love, I am your partner in all things. Married or not, I wish to be there for you. Please, do not keep things of this nature from me again."

"I will come to you. Maybe I have need for the same discussion as Harry about coming to you with my problems. May I stay overnight?"

Severus kissed the man's brow, his nose and his lips before pulling away with a smile. "You are always welcome wherever I lay my head, my love. Shall we turn in for the night? I fear I must teach classes tomorrow, and we both are in no state for the early awakening we will have."