The Ripple Effect

+++++++++++

Harry Potter was spending his twentieth birthday in the way he had requested to spend it - by himself. The first two birthdays after his defeat of Voldemort on Halloween of his seventh year of school had been filled with large celebrations and raucous gatherings of his friends. Ron, at least, would certainly be teasing him when he heard about Harry's day. He could almost hear the redhead's not quite joking comments about absorbing his lover's anti-social behavior.

If anyone had expected Severus Snape's relationship with the young Gryffindor to change the crotchety Slytherin, they'd certainly been proven wrong. The older wizard still took a perverse joy in terrorizing his students, deducting points from Gryffindor, and assigning innumerable detentions. Now that Harry was an Associate Professor, he could well appreciate the value of having the students clean in detentions. He doubted he would ever see his lover during the school year, other than at meals, if it weren't for Severus' ability to make the miscreants take care of his dungeons.

Harry drifted out of Quality Quidditch Supplies, having known even when he started to browse that there was no need to replace his Firebolt. It was still a fine broom and far more than a civilian like him needed. Watching the people around him with an ever-cautious eye, he noted the gaping stares he still received. It seemed he'd never truly be just another wizard.

Perhaps, though, his ever-present fame would work for him. He was aware that he'd have to start a career in the Ministry at some point. After all, he had it on good authority that he was destined to do so. He just wasn't ready to leave Hogwarts. There was a lingering suspicion that his relationship with the Potions Master needed to be more permanent and less their current casual state before he spared the man constant exposure to himself.

Thoughts of Severus led him to wander into Slug and Jiggers apothecary. The clerk behind the counter flinched at his entrance, then relaxed when he realized that Harry was not with the ever-demanding Potions Master. After fiddling with bits from the shelves, he picked up an item or two he thought were low in the professor's private stores and worked his way back to the clerk. It was a testament to how often Snape and Harry were seen together that the clerk automatically added the Potions Master's reserved order to the package.

Miniaturizing the items and thanking the now disinterested clerk, Harry strolled back out. His intent was some ice cream at Florean Fortescue's to top off his outing.

He never quite made it that far.

+++++++++++

A sticking obscurity hex, cast on the doorway of the apothecary just before Harry's exit, slid past the savior's ever-present defensive shields, as it was not active magic. The hex was ended on the doorway and would afflict no others as a silent figure peeled from the shadows. The newly inconspicuous hero didn't notice the lack of stares or whispers. He was occupied in silent contemplation of his future. However, he did catch the flash of red light from behind him, reflected in a store window, and turned while drawing his wand.

The stunning spell, cast as it was in conjunction with the override for Harry Potter's personal defensive wards, dropped the Gryffindor with barely a whisper. It was a thought reserved for later that the young man should perhaps not rely so heavily on peacetime and his personal shields. It was a commentary on the strength of his attacker's disillusionment magic that no shopper in the busy summer market noticed the short exchange.

Levitating the body behind the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' storefront, Harry was shortly hidden by a construct of transfigured brick and golden wards. With a soft, "Sorry about this," that was never heard, the body was fully concealed by the protections.

Five minutes later, when an explosion ripped apart the outside café at Fortescue's and simultaneous blasts echoed up and down Diagon Alley, Harry still lay unconscious and protected.

+++++++++++

Only when Ron Weasley fire-called to apologize for having to miss Harry's birthday did Severus Snape become aware that something was wrong. He looked up from his writing desk to see the young Auror's head wreathed in green flame.

"Professor Snape, is Harry around?"

"He is shopping in Diagon Alley, Mr. Weasley."

Only years as a spy allowed Snape to see the subtle blanching in the redhead's face.

"What has happened?"

Ron glanced to his side before speaking quickly. "All Aurors have been called in. There were a series of explosions just recently."

Snape made an effort to bite down his concern and impatience with the explanation.

"Where?"

"Diagon Alley."

It was the older man's turn to pale and his quill dropped to the blotter. Ron made an instant decision.

"Wheezes is untouched. If you Floo there, I'll tell Fred and George to expect you. The whole Alley's on lockdown until we know what happened."

As the head disappeared from his fire, Snape gathered a few items, penned a quick note to the Headmaster, and then Flooed out. He tried to ignore the twisting pain of worry in his chest.

+++++++++++

Three hours after the explosions, the scene inside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had become tense. The twins watched the rescue and recovery work through their shop window. The windows had been cracked by the concussion, but had been easily enough repaired. Most of the other shops they could see were the same. It was the steady stream of injured witches and wizards that reminded them of the darkest days of the war.

Spotting a familiar face, they unlocked the front door to allow their youngest brother to slip inside.

"Snape here?"

"He's pacing…"

"…in the back room."

"We thought it best…"

"…not to disturb him."

Ron nodded, not confused by the twinspeak after hearing it his entire life. As he moved towards the back of the shop, the identical pair followed him. Cracking open the door, he could see the Potions Master was indeed furiously pacing the cramped confines of the small workroom. Taking a moment to observe the man, Ron wondered, not for the first time, just what had attracted Harry to him. Sure, he seemed to take better care of himself these days. He was definitely cleaner and less stressed looking. But… it was Snape.

"Do you intend to continue staring, Mr. Weasley? Or do you have some news?"

The biting tones pierced his introspection and Ron shook his head. He and his best friend were cracked. They'd both gone and fallen in with bossy gits. Not that he would have ever admitted such a thing anywhere near his wife. Hermione was developing a temper to match her mother-in-law's.

"The Aurors know we're looking for Harry. He's not been located among the injured or dead."

The young man paused for a moment.

"Are you certain that Harry was in the Alley today?"

The face of controlled rage that was turned to him reminded Ron of his school days.

"I have ways of contacting him, Mr. Weasley. I suggest you scurry back outside and find him as he was here."

Ron spotted a small item on the table closest to him. Looking closer at it, he tried to ignore the attitude he was receiving by thinking about how he would act if Hermione was missing. On recognizing the silvered surface, he blurted out, "He's not answering the mirror?"

"No."

"But, he always answers the mirror!"

"Unless he is unconscious or dead. I am aware of this."

Ron stopped, appalled with his own insensitivity. "Professor, he's not dead." He felt pinned by the dark stare. "Harry's lived through a lot, we're not writing him off just yet."

Snape scowled. "Get out, Mr. Weasley. Before I give in to the urge to hex you."

Fred escorted his brother out the front and then relocked the door as instructed. When he'd returned to the workroom, he was surprised at the preparations being started.

"Are we brewing?"

George met his gaze over the down bent head of the Potions Master.

"The professor knows a way to find Harry."

"Brill! How?"

"A potion, Mssrs. Weasley. One that verges on the dark arts. Excuse yourselves so as to plead ignorance if you intend to be squeamish."

The twins shared a speaking glance.

"What makes it…"

"… dark arts, Professor?"

"The high probability that it could kill the drinker."

Another one of those tense silences began to creep in before Snape lashed out verbally.

"Don't be imbeciles. I will be taking the draught."

"Is that a good…"

"… idea, sir? Knowing…"

"… it could kill you?"

Snape's face was composed and collected as he met the paired gaze.

"What indications have you received that my life would be more valuable than his?"

They made no move to demur, slightly uneasy as they were by the depth of implied emotion coming from their former professor.

+++++++++++

An hour later, the draught was cooling. Harry still had not been located and the only people being recovered from the rubble were already dead. The Weasleys considered the vial they took turns shaking to prevent the ingredients from settling. They were highly uncomfortable with the idea that someone would be drinking the mixture, even if that someone were Snape, after the Potions Master had ground and added the communication mirror. Potions stained fingers plucked the vial from Fred's hand. The professor replaced it with a hematite stone in the wizard's grasp.

"That is an emergency Portkey to the Hogwarts infirmary. It activates at the touch of a wand. Do not use it until we have found him."

"How is this…"

"…supposed to work?"

"This potion draws the drinker to the pair of the item contained within it. In this situation, Harry's mirror."

"But, what if…"

"… Harry doesn't have his mirror?"

The Potions Master drank down the contents of the vial, his voice hoarse as he replied, "Then I am a fool."

The twins were able to see when the potion took effect as a sort of hazy lassitude overtook the Potions Master's features. They moved to follow him as he stepped out the back door of the shop and halted. It was with quite a bit of surprise that they noticed his eyes refocusing.

"Maybe the potion…"

"… didn't work?"

"It worked."

Neither man was willing to disabuse the professor of his belief. George straightened from his momentary lean against the back wall.

"Fred?"

"Yes, George?"

"How many dustbins do we have?"

"One."

"Then… what's that?"

The other twin and the Potions Master turned to the brick box sitting next to the container marked for hazardous magical waste. A quick flurry of spells revealed it as a recent addition. The professor hunched over suddenly, pressing a hand tight to his stomach.

"Move the bricks."

His command was audible, but nothing like his normal commanding tones, forced as it was through a throat abused by ground glass. The twins acted quickly, stopping dumbfounded at the sight of Harry cocooned in a golden glow. Their attempts to dispel the barrier only caused curled writing to appear on its surface.

"Professor? It's…"

"… password locked."

"…What would you…"

"… suggest?"

The Potions Master kneeled next to the barrier, tracing the writing with a long finger.

"A spell-locked defensive ward."

His absent muttering was purely to himself, despite the pair listening. "What is the average airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

When he read the words, the twins did not understand the twitch of a smirk as his eidetic memory supplied the password. They were thinking he'd drifted 'round the bend when he next spoke.

"What? How do you mean? African or European?"

The pair of them were shocked that the faint words caused the light to dissolve, even more so when the Potions Master collapsed over in a faint.

"Bugger."

"Get his finger…"

"We'll get them…"

"…both on the Portkey."

+++++++++++

Harry woke with a start, his last memory having been of an attack. Blinking rapidly didn't clear his vision, which meant that he'd lost his glasses. Maybe it was time to help Severus brew that eyesight correction potion. The stubborn man had refused to simply make it for him, but maybe he could request it as a gift.

His brow furrowed as the familiar shape of his lenses were set on his face and he could clearly make out Albus Dumbledore. Harry groaned, recognizing the walls of the Hogwarts infirmary behind the Headmaster.

"What happened?"

"Perhaps you could tell me, Harry?"

He thought for a moment before responding. "I was in Diagon Alley. I had just left the apothecary and was going to get some ice cream. I saw a flash in Madame Malkin's window, turned around, then I woke up just now."

He frowned as he continued, "It looked like a stunning spell, but went straight though my personal defenses. I suppose I caused a public fuss?"

Albus shook his head in answer of the question. "No one was aware that you had been attacked."

The Headmaster absently noted the blatant incredulity that met his response was he asked, "You were headed for Fortescue's?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"A rather large quantity of Muggle explosives were detonated throughout Diagon Alley approximately four hours ago."

"What?! Is Severus all right? Does he know I'm okay?"

The Headmaster was twinkling as he gestured to the far corner of the infirmary and a bed blocked off by privacy screens.

Harry was off his hospital bed in an instant. He had only been stunned, not injured, which was obvious from his easy, rapid pace. He ducked behind the privacy screen to find the Potions Master sleeping. The obvious placement of an empty vial for a strong sleeping draught spoke of Poppy's usual response to this very difficult patient.

Harry's voice was low as he reached out to hold the unconscious man's hand. "What happened to him?"

"The response teams were unable to locate you. Severus resorted to use of a Locatus potion variant."

"Those are toxic!" Harry's fierce whisper was clear in its displeasure.

"Poppy indicated he will recover fully by this evening. Luckily, the Aurors were so pleased you'd been found that they neglected to ask how, as those potions are also illegal."

Harry stroked a hank of dark hair away from the pale face. "Where was I found?"

"In a protective ward, hidden behind the twins' shop. You were far enough away from the blast centers that the protections were not disturbed."

"Who would stun me just to keep me out of an attack?"

The Headmaster didn't answer, having no more information than he'd already given.

"I'm sorry it has been spent in this fashion, but happy birthday."

As the Headmaster moved to leave the hospital wing, Harry settled into the side chair to wait for Severus to wake up.

+++++++++++

He wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep, but the next thing Harry was aware of was a hand on his shoulder.

"Professor Potter?"

Looking up, he blinked, unaware of the sheet lines pressed into his face from the Potions Master's hospital bed.

"Susan. I mean… Healer Bones."

"You can call me Susan, Harry."

She moved from his side, wand out to scan the patient. Harry was unable to hide all the concern in his voice as he asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

Susan kept her demeanor professional as she completed her scan. While she would never understand the pair, especially after having witnessed some of their clashes first-hand, they were far from the oddest she'd seen in her training. Checking the illuminated results that hovered above the patient's body, she smiled.

"The damage to the esophagus and stomach lining has been fully repaired. He might be hoarse for a few days, but I'm sure he'll dose himself as always."

Harry nodded as the former Hufflepuff turned to him for a quick scan.

"And while you look a mess, you are in perfect health. My professional recommendation would be a shower and a change of clothes."

Harry smiled. "You'll let me know if anything changes?"

"You'll be the first."

As Harry left the room, the mediwitch in training shook her head. They were an odd couple, but obviously devoted.

+++++++++++

Harry took tea with the Headmaster, knowing that Severus would be vocal in his displeasure if he hovered in the hospital wing for hours. He'd found that out the prior school year when the latest potions disaster-prone student managed to concuss his professor.

Harry hadn't been sure which professor the student was more afraid of after that… Severus for his multitudinous detentions, or Harry, in a fear of protective reprisal. It had been amusing to watch the young Slytherin edge around them both carefully for a few months.

Of course, being in the Headmaster's office made it easier to find out what had happened.

"How did the explosives get past the new wards on Diagon Alley?"

The confusion behind Harry's words was deserved. After the fall of Voldemort, responses had included new defensive preparations on all public gathering points.

"Kingsley mentioned that no magical signature has been detected in combination with the attacks."

Harry grimaced as the Headmaster continued to nibble the legs off his animal shaped biscuits.

"That means Muggle devices, completely Muggle."

Albus nodded. "The Ministry has not faced a problem like this for more than two years."

"As long as I'm not expected to fix this one as well."

The Headmaster chuckled slightly. "Minister Fudge has asked the Order to review the evidence available and offer an opinion."

"Remind me why that idiot is still in office?"

"Because no one has yet attempted to replace him."

Harry nodded, sipping at his tea. "When's the Order meeting?"

"Tomorrow evening. Molly has volunteered to provide an evening meal. It seems she quite misses a house full of children."

"Usual place?"

"Yes. Remus has been kind enough to offer the kitchen to us once again."

"I'll be there. Severus will as well, if just to complain about the Ministry's shoddy work."

Harry glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. "As it is, I should go rescue Susan and Poppy."

+++++++++++

When Harry made it back to the hospital wing, he found that the Potions Master had already snuck out. Garnering a few last minute warnings from Madame Pomfrey, he sought the beast on its home territory. That the prior password to the man's quarters still worked was a good sign. He didn't think that Severus would hold being attacked against him, but this was his rather incendiary lover.

Not finding the man either in his study or sitting room, Harry peeked through the bedroom before leaning against the bathroom doorjamb. As the water ceased to run, he spoke up.

"Suddenly, my birthday's looking more pleasant."

Severus turned, idly glaring as he reached for a towel. There was no darting hurry. After all, they were long past the need for modesty or shyness. The professor affected a disinterested tone as he spoke, "Oh, it's you."

Harry tried not to show his concern for the rasp in the usually smooth voice. "Unless there's someone else that spends time down here."

He followed the older man into the bedroom and leaned against the wall as Severus settled into one of the chairs before the fire. The towel wrapped at his waist, the long black hair was left to drip dry down pale shoulders. Harry tracked the movement of a drop over the left clavicle, the pectoral, until it passed a taupe nipple.

"Harry?"

As he looked up, he recognized the bemused expression. "You've been talking and I haven't heard a word you said, right?"

"Somehow, I am accustomed to the experience."

"At least now it's because I find you fascinating rather than because I could never understand your classes."

The eye-roll in response spoke volumes and Harry sobered.

"Why did you do it?"

"What, brat?"

"Risk your life."

"You would rather I left you to the bumbling inadequacies of the Ministry?"

"I would have preferred you take more care with yourself."

"Careless, I was not. There was no other way to locate you expeditiously. Waiting is not an option in dangerous circumstances."

"I know that, Severus. But there had to be some other way to find me."

There was a slightly awkward pause and Harry could read the stress on the angular face.

"The most efficient way to track an incapacitated wizard is through a magical connection. As you have no such connections, you had to be tracked through an item I knew you would be carrying."

"I'll spell you a replacement when I have the chance."

The slightest inclination of his head expressed the Potions Master's gratitude.

"What types of connections are there? Maybe I should get one."

By the expression on his lover's face, Harry received the impression that he'd just said something incredibly gauche and Muggle. It reflected the three years spent together that Snape replied with mild sarcasm rather than cutting vitriol.

"Perhaps you should ask Ms. Granger, as I'm sure she has devoured a text or twelve on the subject."

"She prefers Granger-Weasley these days, as you know."

The slightest of smiles answered him. "I cannot comprehend how even a Gryffindor of such obvious intelligence settled for a Weasley."

"What does that say about me and you then?"

"You forget, Mr. Potter. Your hallmark was dumb luck, not brilliance."

Harry laughed at the remark, unfazed. Any lingering tension gone, Severus smiled the small expression he often showed when they were alone.

"How would you like to spend the rest of your day?"

"Quietly… with you."

Severus stood. "Then I will garb myself to block the chill."

When he stepped away from the chair, Harry stood straight from his leaning against the wall to block the other man's steps. "Don't bother, I'll keep you warm."

"Dinner?"

As Harry hooked his fingers in the towel and leaned in to lick a bead of water from his lover's shoulder, he muttered a response, "The house elves spoil me. We'll order in."

Severus groaned as the lips moved towards his neck. "Then in we shall stay."

Harry chuckled against the increasing beat of the Potions Master's pulse. "Yes, we shall."

The towel fell to the floor, unneeded as Harry's hands drifted down the pale and still damp skin. When his fingers played across the quiescent prick, though that member was fast becoming interested in the proceedings, Severus gasped.

At the sign of his lover's surrender, Harry chuckled. "I can think of something I'd like before we call the kitchens."

It took like encouragement for Harry to guide the Potions Master back into the chair from which he'd stood. With a gesture of the younger man's wand, he was as nude as his partner. Another flick had the spells to prepare his body for his desire flashing through his fundament.

As he lifted himself to straddle the older wizard's thighs, potions stained fingers clasped roughly at his hips to prevent an accidental fall. Severus' voice was roughened by lust, still scarred by the potion, and deepened at the idea of how badly Harry wanted him.

"Impatient."

Harry smiled sweetly, his face slackening in pleasure as he guided his lover's prick to his desperate entrance. Ignoring the slight burning pressure, preparatory spells never having been quite as thorough as his lover's touch, Harry began to work himself on the now demanding cock.

"For you? Always."

As their encounter turned desperate, Severus clasped Harry to himself and shifted out of the chair to lay the younger wizard across the rug. He thrust into his lover's body, a gesture of reaffirmation. It was reassurance that they were there, not gone as had been feared.

Harry was begging, pleading for release, before Severus would allow his hands to close on his own needy prick. The churning rhythm altered as the Potions Master lingeringly kissed his lover.

It was sweeter now, a connection of emotions as they spilled gently through their climaxes. Harry, still breathing heavy, was the first to recovery and turned to his sprawled lover.

"It seems you don't mind when I'm impatient."

Severus' gentle caress of his cheek was all the answer that the green-eyed wizard needed.

+++++++++++

Arthur was well aware that he was running late. He'd only just returned from a construction site in Surrey populated with hammers hexed to hit only fingers rather than nails. Since there wasn't much he could do about his untimeliness, he tried not to think about how Molly would worry.

Finally free of his office, he was almost aboard the lift to the lobby Apparition area when he was stopped.

"Mr. Weasley?"

He turned, waiting patiently as the young wizard jogged up to him. From the robes, he was an Auror like his son, Ron. While there was something oddly familiar about his face, no name came to mind. The wizard flashed him a grin and held out a file.

"Glad I caught you. Would you give this to Albus Dumbledore? They forgot to include it when they gave the other files for the Order to Auror Shacklebolt."

Arthur looked slightly confused, but took the large manila file. "Have we met, young man?"

Another flash of that grin before the wizard replied, "Not yet, Sastro."

The witch holding the lift made an impatient noise and Arthur Weasley stepped on. The Auror winked at him as the doors closed.

+++++++++++

When Arthur arrived at Grimmauld Place, the file was forgotten on a side table in Molly's bustle to have everyone fed. Remus seemed to have gracefully surrendered his kitchen to the Weasley matron for the occasion. It was a reduced gathering of the Order, Arthur noted as he hugged his youngest daughter-in-law.

Albus was, of course, present, as were Remus, Harry, Severus, Kingsley, Hermione, Arthur and Molly. It was far from the full list that had gone against Voldemort in the end. But, then again, this was a friendly favor in reviewing the files on the Diagon Alley incident from the day before.

After dinner, they spread the information out to read. Harry, quickly bored of the dry facts, leaned across the table to snag a leftover roll. He bit into it enthusiastically, ignoring Severus' grimace of disgust as the Potions Master shook crumbs from the papers onto the floor.

"Where's your worse half, Mione? I thought he was supposed to be here?"

"Patrols… Fudge wants to look like he's doing something, so he's instituted robed and undercover patrols of public areas."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How'd you get out of the scut work?"

Hermione's expression and mincing tone made it clear she was mocking her much-hated boss when she spoke.

"Granger, you just handle your research and records. Leave the fieldwork to the men." Her snort was indelicate and definitely unladylike. "As if fieldwork would be a problem after a decade as your friend."

Harry's chuckle of amusement covered the slight huff of humor from his lover.

Arthur stood suddenly; leaving the room before returning with the file he'd been given. "Albus, I nearly forgot. I was asked to give this to you."

The Headmaster took the file, looking at its cover curiously.

"Most odd young man that gave it to me. He looked quite familiar, but when I asked if we'd met, he said, 'Not yet, Sastro.' Very odd."

A curiosity was always enough to draw Hermione's attention. "Sastro? What's that mean?"

Severus didn't lift his head from a map of the blast points when he replied, "It is the Roma language equivalent of father-in-law."

Arthur chuckled. "I must have misheard him, then. None of my sons are so inclined and Ginny is declaring her intention to stay permanently single."

Harry leaned into Severus. "How do you know that?"

"My mother was Roma and insisted I speak her language."

The side exchange passed unnoticed as the Headmaster showed the file to the man next to him. "Kingsley, what do you make of this?"

The Auror glanced at it for a moment. "That shouldn't have been sent to us. We're working with Muggle Liaison files. That's an Unspeakable record. I don't recognize the division insignia."

Hermione spoke up. "I've been trained on Unspeakable records. May I see it?"

The file was handed across the table and she took a quick look before her face slackened in shock.

"Merlin… It's a Paradox Division file. Those aren't supposed to leave the Ministry."

She looked over at her father-in-law. "Someone just handed this to you?" At his nod, she continued in a soft voice, "It must have been a Guardian."

Harry interrupted, never having been patient with a lack of information. "What is the Paradox Division and who or what is a Guardian?"

Receiving slight nods from Dumbledore and Shacklebolt, Hermione tried to explain.

"Temporal magic is very dangerous. It's incredibly easy to cause damage. The Paradox Division is an office of the Unspeakables. They're responsible for making sure that temporal problems don't occur. The Guardians are the Unspeakables assigned to that division."

"I don't know how they are chosen, or how many there are at any one time. Their files are protected the same way as the Prophecy Room. It's magically shielded as well, so that a temporal disruption doesn't alter the documents and can thus be repaired. You can't take a file out without being a Guardian."

Arthur looked slightly impressed. "So the young man who gave me that was an Unspeakable?"

"Or received it and directions from one."

Albus interrupted. "More curiously, the contents are unrelated to our current inquiry as they focus solely on Grindelwald."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Wasn't that the Dark Lord you defeated in '45?"

The Headmaster nodded and discussion moved back to the explosions. Unfortunately, there were no brilliant insights or new information for them to share with the Ministry.

+++++++++++

As the group broke up, the files returning to the Ministry with Kingsley except for the oddity that Albus had decided to keep, Harry pulled Hermione to the side.

"Can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

"What about…?" As her voice tapered off, she gestured to where Professor Snape and the Headmaster were arguing quietly over something.

"They'll be at that for hours."

Hermione and Harry moved to the front parlor, Harry looking slightly uneasy.

"Do you know what happened yesterday with me?"

She nodded. "I've heard some of it. The twins told Ron that you and the professor were fine."

"Severus took a Locatus potion to find me."

"What?! Harry, those are illegal!"

"Yes, I know. They're also deadly."

"Oh, Harry."

Hermione looked like she was about to start being sappily female, so Harry continued, "I asked him if there was another way. He said there hadn't been, because I didn't have any connections. So I joked that maybe I should get one. He just looked at me so strangely and then suggested I talk to you."

Hermione was given Harry one of those looks of shock-pity-disgust. "Harry, he was probably hurt that you'd joke about something like that."

"What? Why?"

"There are only two types of magical connection that can be used to find someone - between a parent and child or between a mated couple."

"Like married? Why should that upset him? We're men, we can't get married."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, you're thinking like a Muggle. Bill's wife, Fleur? Her grandmother wasn't even human. It's not common, but there's no law against such a contract."

"How would I know this? I get invited to plenty of receptions, but yours was the only wedding I've attended."

Hermione sighed. "Again, you're thinking like a Muggle. Ron and I only had a wedding for my parents. A couple in the wizarding community files a contract with the Ministry and then throws a party to inform their friends and family."

Harry stood, pacing the floor. "If that's something he wants, then why doesn't he just say something?"

Trying to suppress the utter surreality of giving relationship advice that included her former potions professor, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He couldn't, Harry."

"Why not?"

"Sit down, you're making me dizzy."

Harry sat, looking expectantly at her.

"For graduation, I gave you a book on pureblood social customs."

His guilty look told her all she needed to know. "Merlin, Harry. You do make things difficult."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've been wondering for two years why you haven't contracted. I had no idea you wouldn't read the book. I mean, there was James, how could you possibly imagine that Professor Snape would say no."

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Okay, I get the fact that I'm an idiot and have risked the existence of my future son. Now, stop lecturing me and tell me what I should have read."

"Professor Snape is a pureblood, Harry. There are social rules that he would have been raised with about who can do the asking for a contract. Ron had no problem asking me because I'm Muggle-born."

"But, Ron's never been a blood supremacist. Why would it matter?"

"Neither were Molly and Arthur, but Molly had to ask as she was higher ranked socially."

"My mother was Muggle-born, that puts him higher. So, what's the problem?"

"You forgot something, Harry. You're the Boy Who Lived. As a cultural icon, no one outranks you socially."

Harry stared at her with a stunned deer expression.

"Didn't you ever wonder, at those banquets after Voldemort, why they sat you with an empty space on either side?"

Harry flushed. "I thought the Ministry were just being gits."

The brunette shook her head and exhaled in frustration. "It's because socially, you have no equal. The Headmaster may have fought a Dark Lord, but he was an adult and fully trained wizard already. Your situation, a baby who stopped a reign of terror, made you something different in the public consciousness."

Harry groaned. "Merlin's beard. I've almost screwed everything."

Hermione couldn't help her smile. "And there is James to consider..."

The door to the room clicked open, framing the Potions Master. Harry wondered why the man had an expression of controlled indifference, then realized that he had to have heard Hermione's last remark.

"I am returning to Hogwarts."

It appeared for a moment that the professor would have something else to add, but didn't. With a sharper than necessary slap, the door was closed.

"Bloody fuck."

Harry dropped his head into his hands with his exclamation. His female companion, confused at the occurrence, looked from the closed door to Harry.

"What just happened?"

Harry met her eyes, guilt heavy in his gaze. "Yesterday, I made a huge social gaffe with him and today I'm talking with you about another man."

"But… James is… will be… your son."

The raven-haired Gryffindor exhaled noisily. "He thinks James and I were involved - romantically - at school."

"You didn't tell him?"

"Did you tell Ron that my teenage son was hanging out in our seventh year?"

"No, but…"

Harry interrupted, "I tried to explain… several times. He gets jealous and irrational and won't listen. I figured it would be okay because we'd be together and it would eventually not matter."

"Oh, Harry. You need to go after him. You need to tell him."

He sighed deeply, but stood. "I know. Thanks, Hermione."

As he paused at the door, he looked back at her with a faint echo of his usual grin. "From now on, tell me why you give me a book and I promise I'll read them."

Harry hurried from the house with Hermione's laughter repeating in his head.

+++++++++++

Harry's return to the school wasn't quite fast enough. As he faced the basilisk column that blocked the Potions Master's private quarters and rattled over the last five passwords, he was forced to acknowledge that he'd been kicked out. It had been their habit for Harry to move into the dungeons when the students left for the summer.

For professional reasons, he maintained his own suite of rooms during term. The high usage of Floo powder and familiarity between the two fireplaces was simply a side effect of the school year.

Harry grew tired of not receiving an answer to either his knocks or password attempts. Chanting in Latin, he used his intimate knowledge of the professor's magic and his own unique power to force the privacy wards on the private chambers. Almost as expected, he found the older man in his private laboratory.

His shoes echoed on the stone floors, but Severus never looked up from his cauldron even when he spoke.

"I don't recall admitting you."

"I wouldn't usually move back to my rooms for another month."

"Perhaps you should."

Harry settled a hip against the cabinets, not approaching further. Severus continued to work, ostensibly ignoring his lover.

"I think we should talk."

"I am not inclined to discuss your indiscretions."

"My what?!"

Harry counted to ten with the steady movement of the stirring rod. His experience with this man had at least taught him that one of them needed to control their temper. Severus' was almost Gryffindor in its ferocity; for all that, the other man would deny any personal identification with Harry's house.

"I haven't done anything that should cause us to argue."

"Then there is no need for this discourse and you may leave."

"Oh, I don't think so."

Harry ignored the snort of derision as he continued, "Why'd you lock me out?"

"I am in need of quiet for my research. That is something I cannot achieve with you in residence."

"I'm quiet!"

"Unless you are returning drunk from Gryffindor companionship."

"That was one time and Ron apologized."

It seemed another snort was all that he would receive in reply. Harry should have known that Severus Snape was not one to casually discuss his feelings.

"How much did you hear at Headquarters?"

"Enough."

"Severus, I think it's time we talked about James."

"I do not wish to hear about your paramours."

"He wasn't…"

It was all Harry managed to get out before the Potions Master's temper switched on. He stared in shock at the stirring rod that had bounced off the cabinet beside his head. Turning to face the professor, he could see rage, jealousy, and hurt burning in the dark eyes.

"I will not discuss your former lovers!"

Harry stepped forward slightly. "You promised me understanding that night. Don't you want to understand?"

"No. Now get out so that I may work."

"You can't keep hiding behind your work."

"You flatter yourself that I am hiding, Potter."

Harry flinched slightly, belatedly recognizing that they had descended into just the type of argument he'd wanted to avoid.

"If I go now as you want, will you speak with me later?"

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Send an owl, Potter."

Harry sighed, turning for the door. At the exit, he paused long enough to comment before slipping out. "You've never asked me to love you, Severus."

The jar of lacewings shattered against the closed door. The potion, forgotten in the heat of anger, boiled over in a rush. Severus waved the flame out before sinking onto a nearby stool.

He'd never asked his Gryffindor lover for anything that he wasn't certain he'd receive. It was a tactic he'd used for years to avoid disappointment. Deep inside, he'd always known their affair would end in grief. Now that the time appeared to be before him, that foreknowledge didn't make it any easier.

He'd never asked Harry to love him. He'd been far too careful for such a risk. But that hadn't stopped him from loving the younger man. And now his fears had ruined the one effort he thought might help bring him that love. He knew his lover wanted a family… and the Polyjuice modifications had seemed so promising.

As he left the lab, glutinous mess cooling for the house elves to clean, he didn't see the need to start back up or try again. Perhaps someday, when he'd swallowed the loss of the shining beacon that had been his lover, he'd start again and make it a gift to the sparkling young man and his chosen mate.

Severus settled into his chair before the fire in his bedroom. He ignored the glaring emptiness of the matched opposite to his own chair as the fire cast scant, flickering light in the gloomy chambers.

Brandy would numb the pain for now.

+++++++++++

Harry blinked muzzily as the squat glass, half-full of Ogden's finest, was plucked from his hand. The shock of red hair and official blue robes identified the offender as Ron Weasley.

"What are you doing here?"

Ron settled into the chair next to Harry against the wall and looked out over the evening patrons of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Tom owled Hermione after your third drink. She got hold of me through work."

Ron sniffed the glass before holding it out. "How many of these have you had?"

"Don't know."

With a tap of his wand, Ron banished the strong liquor back to the bar and signaled for two butterbeers. He waited until they had arrived, pushing one into Harry's unresisting hand.

"Well, what's the greasy git done now?"

"Don't call him that."

The response was automatic and defensive. Oddly, it perked Ron up slightly. "Okay, at least whatever it is, it's not so bad that you'll let me insult him."

Harry snorted, but began to sip at his bottle.

"You know if you go home drunk he's going to be yelling at me again."

"He's still mad about that."

"Merlin's great horned owl… That was a year ago."

"It wasn't about me being drunk. Between you and Mione that night, he has half the Holy Grail memorized now."

"Not my fault. How was I to know he could remember everything he's ever heard?"

"He was a spy, Ron. How did you think he did it?"

Ron snorted, pleased to note his best friend dragging himself out of his drunken melancholy.

"From what the twins tell me, it's a good thing he remembered. The password on you yesterday was an exchange of dialogue from that movie."

Harry grunted. "I'll remember that if he ever complains again about puerile Muggle amusements."

Ron let the comfortable silence sit for a few moments before shoving it away. "What happened that brought you here?"

"We argued."

"From what you've told me, that usually leads to bed… not getting drunk alone."

"It was about James."

Ron looked confused. "Your father?"

"No. That student, seventh year."

"Huh, I always wondered if you were shagging him."

"Ewww… By Godric, no!"

Ron held up his hands at the strong tone. "Okay, okay."

It was Harry's turn to break the silence. "Did you and Mione sign a contract?"

"Contract for what?"

Harry gestured expansively, his movements not quite controlled due to the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "To be together."

"Of course."

"How do you do that?"

"You just write it out, sign it, and file it. It's not like either of us was rich or connected, so it was pretty simple."

"Did you know that no one could ask me?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, a Muggle-born might, but no one who knew the wizarding world very well would dare."

"I didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Know."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense."

"Huh?"

"Harry, you've been with Snape for three years. I didn't even make Hermione wait that long."

Harry slumped and started hitting his head on the small table. Ron grabbed his shoulder, dragging him up. For all his emotional vagaries, the redhead was surprised at the pain on his friend's face.

"Harry?"

"I didn't know."

The pained whisper caused Ron to set his bottle down and turn more fully to his friend.

"What happened?"

Harry closed his eyes, his voice faint and ridden with emotion. "I joked about it. He found me talking with Mione about James. Then he threw me out."

Ron stilled as the messy hair eased onto his shoulder and his friend shook in his silent misery. Even drunk, Harry wouldn't make a public spectacle of himself. It was a passing wonder as to why his wife and best friend were discussing a guy they hadn't seen in three years. He patted Harry lightly on the back, thinking.

"Harry?"

The muffled grunt was all he was likely to get in reply.

"Do you want a contract with Snape?"

Ron couldn't make out the mumbled response.

"Mate, sit up. Don't get snot on my work robes and talk to me."

Harry eased himself straight in his seat, face flushed and eyes surprisingly bright.

"Do you want a contract with him?"

"He threw me out. He's never done that before."

"He spent seven years making your life hell."

"That's not the same."

Ron took a moment to look over the room and gather his thoughts. It was a slight shock to the system that here he was with the perfect chance to get his friend away from the greasy git and he wasn't taking it. He was, instead, defending the bastard. Despite his discomfort, Ron just couldn't deny that the pair was happy together.

"You hurt him, Harry. If you want him, you've got to make it right."

"I don't know how."

Ron sighed. "Bugger. I don't, either. Look, I'm off duty. Let's get you drunk - well, more drunk - and then roll you home."

Harry chuckled. "I thought you didn't want to get yelled at?"

"Hey, what are friends for? If he's yelling at me, he's not focused on being mad at you."

Harry shook his head, prompting a dizzy spell, and laughed at the suggestion. Occupied as they were, the pair didn't initially notice the Muggle dressed man that entered from the door to the street. Harry was lost in his own thoughts, mind muffled by the alcohol he'd already consumed.

Ron turned in his seat, attention caught by what seemed to be a developing argument between the innkeeper and the new entrant.

"Thought you were off duty?"

Ron looked back to Harry. "Let me just go see if Tom needs help."

As the redhead stood and stepped away from the table, Harry stood as well. He wasn't entirely drunk, but his steps weren't perfectly sure as he leaned against a column. He saw Ron speak to the strongly gesticulating man before all sight fled.

"Wha…?"

Harry was pulled off balance, his vision blocked by magic. He could recognize the feel of a body pressing him against the column and a hand clamped tight over his mouth. Beginning to struggle, he managed to free a foot and lash out. The hand over his mouth shifted, a tepid liquid being poured into the space as a thin glass vial clacked against his teeth. Tongue and throat worked to push the fluid back out, but were thwarted by that tightly sealed hand moving back into place.

A spell, spoken in a voice too low for him to recognize, forced him to swallow. Harry became aware of three sensations at once - he was free of the physical restraint, there was a displacing rush of air accompanied by the faint sound of Apparition, and he was flooded with the sizzling intensity of a sobriety potion.

As he'd been struggling, the sudden lack of support caused him to stumble forward. Blinking, he acknowledged that his vision was clear once again with the entire incident lasting no more than thirty seconds. Stone cold aware and no longer fuzzy from his drinking, Harry had just enough time to frown in confusion and look around for his assailant when he caught sight of Ron's confrontation.

The Muggle dressed man had stepped back from the Auror, reached inside his jacket, and drawn something Harry had never thought to see in the wizarding world - an automatic weapon.

"Ron!"

His yell was enough to drag the attacker's attention wide, the first stuttering burst of staccato gunfire spraying the bar. Tom dropped out of sight, injured or not was yet unknown. Ron had frozen for a mere instant, Auror training not having included modern Muggle weaponry. However, his recovery was quick and a clenched fist slammed into the man's face, staggering him back.

As the shooter brought the weapon around again, Harry recovered from his own flinching pause with a pair of spells. The first bit of gunfire burst out, spinning the Auror by the shoulder, before the weapon was banished by the shouted, "Expelliarmus." The enraged attacker fell like the Auror with the follow-up, "Stupefy."

Harry rushed to his friend's side, the partially filled pub now a chaos of screams and scared people to his half-deafened senses. He noted that a witch was moving behind the bar as he dropped to his knees next to the prone redhead. Harry couldn't hear the groan when he pressed against the seeping mess of crimson that was his friend's shoulder, but he saw the flinch at the pain. Helped with swift efficiency, Ron eased into a sitting position as a spell kept his injury in a pressured stasis for a healer's attention.

His ears still ringing from the noise of the gunfire, but relieved that his friend would live, Harry turned towards the attacker.

"Leave it!" His barked order halted the curious wizard reaching for the weapon that had been used, the authority of the Man Who Defeated Voldemort still carrying instant weight.

Harry kicked the insensate body of the gunman before bringing him around with a fast, "Enervate." The man groaned, but stayed on the ground as he blinked at Harry.

"Who are you?"

"Why did you do this?"

None of his demanding questions received a response as the man gave a sickening grin and clenched his jaw. Harry stared as the body seized once, then twice, before falling into a familiar limp stillness. He grabbed for the left wrist, confirming his suspicion with the lack of pulse.

A strange odor wafted around the man's head as Harry worked his left sleeve up the limp arm. He'd almost feared a Dark mark, but found only a simple and quite mundane Muggle tattoo. A coiled red dragon adorned the inside forearm, just above a runic set he didn't recognize.

+++++++++++

"No."

The curt denial of his offered favorite yellow sweets didn't deter the Headmaster from his morning cheer. "Tea then, Severus. You're looking a touch peaky."

Snape accepted the china cup with ill grace. Privately, he wondered how anyone could remain so disgustingly pleasant when dawn had only just broken the Scottish haze.

Not that the Headmaster had awoken him. No, a disgruntling combination of too much liquor and too little sleep had led him to be crafting fiendish quizzes when his meddlesome employer had sought his company. Severus reflected that at least the application of his potion making talents had removed any likelihood of a hangover this morning.

He would not be likely to admit it, but his fouler than normal disposition was emotionally based rather than due to a physical condition or the early hour.

Albus grinned over his cup at his Potions Master before proceeding forth with an unaccustomed directness. "There is no need to be so dyspeptic about Harry, my lad."

Snape scowled, bending his head over his cup and hiding the pained flash of his eyes behind lank black hair. Its texture annoyed him this morning, after he'd skipped his grooming in a fit of pique.

The Headmaster lost his grin, contemplating the professor in front of him. The tension of the office was broken by the arrival of the post owl. Severus barely gave it attention as it was paid and the Daily Prophet unrolled.

What drew his head back up was Albus' shocked gasp and the heavy clink of a cup against its saucer. He noticed that the Headmaster was scouring the front page for information, but didn't know why. When the paper was opened, presumably so Albus could gain enlightenment from the continuation of whatever article had upset him, he was gifted with sudden understanding.

In bold black type over a file photograph was the main headline - Harry Potter Feared Dead.

Severus' hands clenched tight around his tea, bones showing white through the pale skin.

"Albus."

The name, spoke through gritted teeth, drew the Headmaster's response but not his attention from the article. "There appears to have been another attack. On the Leaky Cauldron this time, where Harry was seen last."

Before Severus could identify precisely what he was currently feeling, other than a sickening roll of his innards, the fire in the Headmaster's office flared green with the activation of the Floo connection. A figure stumbled out, falling to its knees and coughing soot into the rug. Neither wizard was overly concerned about a threat, the Headmaster's office Floo being protected by far better passwords than his front door.

A faint mumbling could be heard from the crouched man as he rose to his feet. "Sodding Floo system… Sodding Ministry gits… Sodding Fudge."

Harry met the eyes of the office's occupants with an apologetic grin. "Sorry about that."

Severus had eased his grip on his cup. While his face was impassive, his eyes shifted between pain and relief. Spotting the emotions, Harry cocked his head slightly in confusion. It was alleviated when he looked to Albus who was holding up the paper.

"Sodding Daily Prophet," was the rejoinder as he took the paper and dropped into the only available chair. He didn't notice as the chair quivered gently at being smudged with soot, but looked up when the Headmaster coughed slightly.

"Tea?"

Nodding, Harry closed the paper and looked over at the Potions Master. One of his long-fingered hands was outstretched and Harry placed the paper in it with the ease of familiarity at the gesture. As Severus took the opportunity to hide behind opened newsprint, Harry sipped at his drink.

"As the Prophet has not improved since the return of Ms. Skeeter to the journalistic profession, perhaps you could tell us what happened?"

The Headmaster attempted to contain his curiosity and allow the young man a moment, but it was difficult.

Harry settled further into his chair and stretched a crick in his neck before starting. "I was at the Leaky Cauldron last night, that part was right. Ron joined me for a bit. There was this man arguing with Tom, then with Ron when he went over to help. Next thing I know, he's shooting the place up."

Albus prodded gently, "And then?"

"I knocked him out, secured the gun. The Ministry showed up and I spent the rest of the night answering questions."

His explanation was interrupted in a critical tone by the Potions Master. "What precisely were you doing in that establishment?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Drinking."

"You appear to be neither hung over nor exhausted; did the Ministry have you treated by a mediwizard?"

Harry just shook his head. "No, that's the odd thing. Just before the guy attacked, someone grabbed me and force-fed me a potion. They Disapparated before I could see who it was."

Snape interrupted again, "Any of the usual reactions? Hives, itching, breathing difficulties?"

As Harry indicated a no with another shake of his head, the other professor settled back with a contemplative look.

The Headmaster couldn't help but ask, "Usual reactions?"

"Oh. I'm mildly allergic to the sub-class of sobering potions."

"Then this would have been something else you were given."

"No, it had to have a sobering draught of some kind. I was fairly pissed up to that point."

As Albus thought those implications over, Severus spoke up. "I may be able to determine what he was given with a few tests."

"Excellent idea, Severus. Harry would be well-off in your care, unless there is anything else he can add at this time."

Harry frowned. "Yes, actually. The gunman killed himself. The Aurors mentioned it appeared that he ingested cyanide. I had the chance to check his arm."

Severus flinched, the never erased specter of the Dark Mark feeling heavy on his own arm, despite its absence of a physical presence. Harry continued with no more acknowledgement of his lover's pain than a quick glance.

"He wasn't a Death Eater, but he had a Muggle tattoo with some runes."

Snagging a blank square of parchment and Albus' quill, Harry sketched the runes with short even strokes as he leaned over the desk. The Headmaster frowned at the result, legible even if they were a reproduction.

"They do not appear to be any I recognize. Severus?"

Harry felt the Potions Master move up beside him, but was surprised to feel the hand that settled gently against his lower back. He glanced at the other man as he shook his head in response to the Headmaster's question.

"They may be of Scandinavian origin, but I do not recognize the meaning."

The younger wizard shifted until he was standing more fully upright and was comforted that the hand stayed in contact. "I'm most concerned about the tattoo. It was a coiled red dragon."

Harry saw the concern in the Headmaster's eyes as he continued with the thought that had haunted him all evening, "Do you think this could be the rise of Draconis?"

Albus seemed to consider the idea. "It may well be. We have little information so far."

"Draconis?"

Harry turned to see the question etched in onyx eyes. He was unsure at first how to answer, but decided the abbreviated truth was best. "Albus and I have reason to believe that Draco Malfoy will rise as a Dark Lord by the name of Draconis."

The Potions Master's eyes widened slightly. "Malfoy is still in hiding in Italy."

Albus spoke up, "It is possible that he is coordinating these attacks through an intermediary."

The potions professor snorted. "Why would such a declared enemy of the Man Who Conquered take efforts to spare him from the attacks?"

The Headmaster had no quick answer for that. "It is possible we are dealing with two entities. One that is behind the violence and one that has been acting to protect Harry from it."

Harry broke in, confused. "That doesn't make sense. If someone's protecting me, why don't they just act against the attacks themselves?"

Snape shook his head. "These attacks are not Malfoy."

At the questioning looks from the other two wizards, he continued. "Malfoy is more a dedicated supremacist than Lucius ever had been. He believes that Riddle's failure was due in part to his half-blood heritage. These attacks have been far too Muggle."

Albus nodded. "I will inquire about the runes. The two of you should join me for the evening meal, after you've both had a change to rest."

Both Harry and Severus were able to read the dismissal contained with the invitation. After they journeyed down the stairs, Harry paused outside the guardian statue.

"Are you still upset with me?"

Severus was studying a tapestry further down the hall, his face turned away from the younger man. "I was perhaps hasty in my anger."

The green-eyed wizard grinned, knowing it was the closest he'd receive to an apology.

"Then let's go find out what I was dosed with."

The halls were quiet as they proceeded to the dungeons. Along the way, Harry slipped his hand over the crook of his partner's elbow. The cautious man tensed for a moment, but made no effort to remove it.

After Harry was ushered into the private laboratory, the scene of their argument only half a day prior, Severus began to gather equipment and interrogate.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Uh… More than twenty-four hours."

"Are you feeling any fatigue?"

"Not really, more like the emotional exhaustion of a long day."

"Any unusual physical reactions?"

Harry took a seat on a nearby stool, beginning to slip free from his robe. "Are you a mediwizard now?"

At the sharp look, he forestalled the lecture on Potions Masters being more capable of identifying foreign compounds with a quick, "No unusual reactions. A touch of dry mouth."

Severus stilled as Harry laid his robe on the table beside his seat. "Why is there dried blood on your sleeve?"

Harry looked at his left wrist with surprise. The white cuff of his shirt was stained with dried and dull carmine. "Oh. Ron was shot; it's probably his."

The preparatory actions continued again. "How is Auror Weasley?"

"Better; the mediwitch said he'll scar, though."

"If the idea discomfits him, I may have something that would assist."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched up. "I'll let him know. Hermione may not care, which means he won't."

Severus, his equipment ready, finally approached Harry with a small knife and an empty vial. Harry held out his arm, shivering slightly as the deft hands rolled up the damaged sleeve. The prick at the crook of his arm was a short sharp pain quickly eased once the Potions Master had his sample.

The younger man watched patiently as it was tested in a variety of ways for the better part of an hour. Finally, the Potions Master turned away from his work to see Harry staring at him absently.

"Well?"

"It had sobering and energizing properties, nothing else."

"How is that? I don't react well to all the classic mixes."

Severus stared at his cauldron as if it was betraying him before banishing the fire. The Potions Master moved to his locked cabinet, withdrawing a vial from a short rack and carrying it back. When he held it out, Harry took it and gave it a quick look.

"What is it?"

"Something I've been working on; see if it is familiar."

Harry uncapped the vial, wafting the odor carefully to his face. "Maybe…"

"It is an energizing and sobering mixture that does not contain the ingredient to which you react poorly."

Harry stared at him for a moment. "Does it work?"

"I tested it for the first time this morning. It is exceedingly effective."

Dipping the tip of a finger into the vial, Harry brought the scant sample to his mouth.

"Slightly slimy, an aftertaste of citrus and cinnamon."

Snape nodded before Harry spoke again. "Are you missing any?"

"No. Neither have I published my discovery."

Harry gave the vial back and rubbed his forehead. "Maybe someone else made the same finding?"

"The odds make such an outcome unlikely."

Picking up his robe, Harry stood. "I should probably get some sleep now. I'll see you later with the Headmaster?"

Severus moved back to his lover's side, pausing Harry's movements. "Stay here."

Harry met the other man's eyes, uncertain. A warm hand caressed the side of his face.

"I'll watch over you."

Harry leaned into the touch and smiled. "Okay."

+++++++++++

Of all the places to sleep during the day at Hogwarts, the dungeons were certainly the best option. Harry woke slowly as pleasant dreams faded from his mind. He registered the feel of fine cotton sheets against his boxer-clad body as he stretched and opened his eyes.

The heavy gloom as broken only by the glow of Severus' wand as he read in a chair across the room.

"What time is it?" Harry's voice was thick, as he'd only just awoken.

"There is an hour or so until we meet with Albus."

The younger wizard levered himself up, appreciating how the Potions Master's gaze traced his bare chest.

"Have you been there the whole time?"

A simple twitch of the shoulders was all the answer he received as the wizard rose from his chair. Leaving the book on the seat, Severus approached the bed. Extinguishing his wand, he lit soft torches throughout the room with another spell. As he sat next to Harry, the younger man spoke again.

"You didn't have to actually watch me."

The Potions Master's voice was a honeyed glaze, soft and almost swallowed by the dim silence. "I made you a promise."

Their gazes locked for a long moment before Harry worked past the emotion clogging his throat to speak. "I need to tell you something."

There was a flash of raw vulnerability in the dark eye before their expressiveness was shuttered. Taking the silence as assent, Harry bared his soul.

"I didn't know… about any of it. Contracts, social rules… I guess no one ever remembered to teach their weapon the softer side of the wizarding world."

He paused, swallowing heavily. "Severus, I'm in love with you."

If Harry had expected his partner to fall on him with exclamations of joy and tenderness, he wasn't thinking clearly. Snape had frozen before rising to cross the room to the dresser. His white knuckled grip showed even in the gloom.

"You do not have to say that to me. I have welcomed you freely, of my own will."

Harry shifted, his face etched with concern. A creeping sense of insecurity knocked at the edges of his mind, but he embraced his Gryffindor bravery and refused to allow the doubt entry.

"I love you, Severus. I cannot imagine my life without you."

The Potions Master hunched as if in pain. Harry's worry drew him to stand and approach the figure slowly. When his eyes acknowledged the steady tremors in the black-clad frame, he rubbed slow circles on the bent back.

"I'm not asking for anything you're not ready to give."

Snape straightened, turning to grasp Harry's shoulders. His fingers flexed as if enjoying the sensation of the firm and lightly muscled flesh.

"Idiot boy."

Harry read the emotion in his lover's eyes, the flash and spark of how he was really feeling behind the critical mask of words. He smiled after a moment. The movement increased the illumination in the room, at least to the admittedly biased opinion of his companion.

The younger wizard reached up, laying palms on the sharply angled cheekbones. It took little encouragement to bring the face down to meet his own uplifted one.

But it was odd because, for the first time, Severus was hesitant in returning his kiss. Harry drew back, studying the desperate self-control with a worried frown. From the moment they'd first become a pair, the Potions Master had never hesitated with him sexually.

"Severus?"

Dark eyes clouded with doubt as the voice came forth in a fierce whisper. "You don't have to do this, Harry. It's as you've said… I never asked for you to love me."

Harry's smile was attempt at reassurance. "You didn't have to ask. It's something I give to you."

There was still doubt in that gaze, but Severus' hesitation no longer impeded Harry's hands. His boxers tenting slightly in anticipation, the younger man worked his way down his lover's body with reassuring caresses.

When Severus moved to stop his hands, determinedly unbuttoning the barriers between Harry and the Potions Master's cock, Harry simply shook them off. "No, let me give this to you as well."

Severus' knuckles again showed white as he grasped the furniture. Harry licked once at his lover's rapidly firming member before swallowing him to the short hairs. The older man's sob of pleasure drowned out the slightly perverse suckling noises as his lover worked at his prick with fierce concentration.

Harry's hand, though steadying him against the older man's body, made no attempt to restrain the rhythmic, instinctual, thrusting. He simply took the intrusion, relaxing for the passage of the cock into his throat as his lover reached his full length. His other hand was absorbed, rolling the soft testicles and playing just behind the concealing sacs at the tender strip of skin.

When Harry began a ragged external massage of Severus' prostate, the confining trousers not allowing the access to a more direct stimulation, the elegant fingers clenched near painfully in messy raven locks.

Severus, staring intensely down his body at the young man who had given him so much, met the pleased gaze of his lover as he thrust into the younger wizard's mouth.

"Harry…"

It was a plea and a warning, but one unneeded by the man on his knees as he felt the balls draw tight to his lover's body. The hands at his head fell away as he pulled back slightly, taking the ejaculate into his mouth and holding it. When the prick had finished its subtle pulses, Harry stood. He clung to his lover as they shared a kiss and the taste between them.

The initial hesitation was fully gone as the Potions Master ate at Harry's mouth. Every surface of his orifice was inspected and claimed; Harry's erection becoming a demanding force at the sheer need reflected from the older wizard.

When he was released from the embrace, Harry gasped out a word as he sucked for air, "Severus?"

The look he received in return was predatory as the professor banished their clothing and then brought himself back to full, unrelieved hardness, with two flicks of the wand.

Harry was guided back to the bed, anticipation and lust coloring his features as he sprawled at Severus' silent command. The usually skilled fingers were bordering on the harsh as they reached for the oil kept in a fold of the bed hangings and prepared Harry's entrance.

All the same, Harry was begging when Severus finally penetrated him. Only the hard grasp on his own testicles kept him from sliding into orgasmic bliss.

Harry forced himself to focus when his lover asked, "Do you forgive me my jealousy?"

Blinking up at his lover, Harry could only gasp his answer and wonder at the self control that made Severus articulate even in the midst of passion, "Yes."

The tempo increased as the Potions Master spun their lovemaking higher, drawing out release and brushing against Harry's prostate with each thrust. It had become a near combination of pleasure/pain and the younger man knew he'd be feeling his lover's presence for long after their bodies were separate.

Which may have been Severus' intention…

It was only later, when they were quickly showering the remains of their union from their skin in preparation for their dinner appointment, that Severus turned the younger wizard towards him with a grasp at his elbow.

"You're the only man I've ever loved."

+++++++++++

Harry shifted in discomfort on the seat before slicing into his salmon with a light touch. Albus watched with a bemused expression before engaging in more idle chatter with the Potions professor. The youngest of the wizards tried to ignore his mate's plate as they ate. For as long as he could remember, whenever the house elves served fish the Potions Master was always served a bloody-rare steak.

After a while, the dinner was done and cleared away, the tea and biscuits served. Albus had disappeared into the drawers of his desk, apparently searching for something.

"Headmaster?" The impatient tone of the Potions Master promised annoyed sarcasm if they weren't able to get to business. Of course, that desire to hurry the process along probably had nothing to do with the promising glitter in the dark eyes that he kept turning on his lover.

"Success!" Albus emerged from behind his desk brandishing a bag of his favored sweets. "I simply must find a way to thank Argus. I had quite run out yesterday and he was gracious in offering to fetch me some more."

Severus rolled his eyes, a barely seen movement that caused Harry to muffle his snicker.

"Well, yes, ummm." The Headmaster shuffled through his papers for a moment before locating the scrap of parchment on which Harry had drawn the runes and on which the translation had subsequently been written.

"Finding our translation was a matter of simply asking the correct person."

"Wasn't that a little too easy?" Harry remarked.

"For those who spent years being graded on the inventiveness of their fraudulent forms of demise, it may come as a shock to hear that Hogwarts does offer a course in Ancient Runes."

Harry raised an eyebrow at his lover's snarking. "Trelawney did get a couple of predictions right, you know."

To forestall continuing commentary, Albus interrupted. "Professor Trelawney's teaching methods aside, that particular runic set was a name but not one that has a direct translation. It is the signifier for the dragon that ultimately slays Beowulf."

Harry seemed displeased with the results. "The dragon and Beowulf? That doesn't tell us anything."

"Beowulf was a work of Muggle fiction. A rather pedantic combination of royal glorification and adaptation of the wizarding culture of the period."

The Headmaster practically sparkled at his Potions Master. "Correct. An often repeated habit of the years before the cultures became totally separated."

"And why don't we learn these things in class?" Harry's sarcasm was apparent.

"One does when the History of Magic professor is less obsessed with goblin rebellions."

Albus turned a quelling glance on the other professor. The glance had no effect as Severus continued to sip calmly at his tea. It was worth noting that the Potions Master was almost notorious for his ability to spot the flaws in his colleagues' methods while never noticing the impatience that marred his own.

"More disturbingly, I was contacted today by the Ministry of Magic."

The two wizards across from him turned their attention fully at the gravity of his tone.

"The man who committed the latest attack has been identified as Carlos La Paz. He was a squib of Spanish descent and a retired member of their Muggle military."

"That explains the weapon and how he was able to get inside the pub," Harry remarked.

"Due to your involvement, my boy, the Ministry of Magic is receiving an unprecedented level of cooperation from their counterparts in Spain."

Harry ignored the snort from beside him. He simply knew he'd be hearing sarcastic comments about his fame for the next few days.

"It appears he had only recently entered the county. A search was made of Mr. La Paz' dwelling in Seville. The Ministry found several documents in a runic code that are currently being translated. They also found a large cache of wizarding newspaper clippings. All of the clippings were in regards to either myself or you, Harry."

"What?!"

The Potions Master was slightly calmer than his now highly concerned lover. He set his tea down with a light touch.

"What precisely are you trying to tell us, Albus?"

The Headmaster's gaze showed his sorrow. "The Ministry now believes that this was the latest in a concerted effort against Harry."

Harry blinked. "But… Why? Who?" He took a deep breath and it caught for a moment in his throat. "I thought this was all supposed to be over for awhile…"

Dumbledore simply shook his head. "Nothing is yet certain… But I am sorry, my boy."

"Is there anything else?" The Potions Master's tone was slightly harsh, but the Headmaster could read his concern for the youngest of the three wizards. With a slight shake of his head, he indicated the negative.

Severus stood, ushering his lover upright as well. "Then we will leave you for now."

Harry was escorted from the room, his daze not breaking until he was safely locked inside the dungeon quarters. Then, his rage finally breaking through, he began a high volume rant that echoed in the enclosed space.

Severus ignored him for the most part, letting him free himself of the excess emotion. While the temper raged around him, he raised the fire to crackling warmth, prepared the tea, and located a vial of Dreamless Sleep for later.

When he returned to Harry, it was to draw the younger man into a strong, tight embrace. Harry clung to the unwavering figure, his fists clenched in the dark robes.

"Why is it always me?"

Severus ran his hands up and down the man's back, soothing with the softest of whispers. It didn't take long for Harry to regain his composure.

"I'm sorry, Severus."

"For?"

"I seem to be unable to promise you peace."

Severus lifted the chin of his lover so he could meet the sparkling green eyes. "You have given me your companionship and now your love. I doubt that peace will ever be part of the equation, Harry, and I do not mourn its loss."

With the shorter man's head tucked beneath his chin, Severus turned himself to the fire. They stood like that for a long minute, taking comfort in the silent strength of each other.

His eyes snapped open when the fire flared green and an abashed Hermione Granger-Weasley appeared in the flame. Her "Eeep" echoed in the room and caused Harry to turn his head to meet his friend's gaze. Her embarrassment was obvious, even through the colored tinge of the Floo call.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Harry shook his head, the movement barely showing as he was still clutched to the Potions Master's chest.

"I just wanted to make sure you'd be coming Saturday."

Severus smoothed a hand down his lover's back as he replied for him. "Forgetful as he may occasionally be, I doubt even Mr. Potter would neglect to attend to his god-daughter's first birthday."

Hermione smiled. "Wonderful! We'll see you both then."

She ended the call without another word, the fire returning to a dancing orange-red.

Severus closed his eyes again, this time with less peace. "How many Weasleys will be in attendance?"

Harry's chuckle could be more felt than heard. "All of them."

"Dear Merlin."

+++++++++++

Saturday dawned bright and clear, revealing the controlled anarchy of an extended family gathering on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. Two redheaded children ran a game of tag among the gnome holes in the garden. Their toy brooms were forgotten next to their father.

He, in turn, watched over them with a lazy eye, the rising sun glinting off the fang dangling from his ear. In the kitchen, magically expanded for the occasion, the other Weasley adults and the birthday girl had gathered around the table for breakfast.

Harry appeared in the garden with the faint pop of Apparition, startling the two children from their game.

"Oncle Harry!" The twins yelled with four-year-old delight and the faintest of accents in mirror of their mother before he had a babbling young man attached to each leg.

"English, you little monsters!"

They simply grinned and switched their conversation to the language he spoke rather than their mother's native tongue. "We learned about you in school," came to his ears in stereo.

Harry winced at the idea of himself as a school topic. He blocked the continuing one-sided (or twin-sided) conversation from his head and returned Bill's greeting with a wave.

"Where's your wife?"

"Inside. My turn with the terror two."

Harry nodded as he looked down. "I'll come back out and play with you two later."

They appeared to be disappointed for about half a second before darting back to their game. Taking advantage of the clear escape opportunity, Harry cut across the grass towards the oldest of the Weasley children.

"Where's the professor?"

Harry smiled. "Working up his nerve to deal with all the Gryffindors at once."

Bill could only laugh at the response. "I'll do you a favor and not mention you said that."

As the redheaded wizard turned to warn his children back inside the boundaries of the garden in rapid French, Harry ducked into the house through the kitchen door. The children's attack from moments earlier was only a simple taste of the enthusiastic greeting he received inside.

Harry was passed between the redheaded family members, greeted, and hugged. He vaguely recalled a continental pressing of cheeks with Fleur before she ducked outside with her husband's breakfast. The importance of food had quickly brought a semblance of peace to the room, leaving Harry perched in a chair at the end of the table across from Hermione and next to his god-daughter in her highchair on the very end.

He leaned over to kiss Cassie on the head, eliciting her giggles and dodging her grab for his hair. As he began to help himself to a plate and a portion of the spread, he rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out.

Predictably, it drew more giggles.

"Really, Harry. You're a bad influence."

Hermione's comment was answered from behind her, Harry's having been forestalled by a full mouth.

"The shining light…"

"…of the Wizarding World?"

"Hardly. Surely…"

"…we're higher rated…"

"…as bad influences?"

The duo glanced at Harry before starting towards the other end of the table.

"Harry, be certain…"

"…to tell us how…"

"…you like the orange…"

"…marmalade."

As Harry spat out the mouthful of scone he'd been chewing, Molly started to rant at her sons for hexing the breakfast food. Hermione tuned out the din with the ease of practice.

"I thought Severus would be joining us?"

Harry sipped at his tea while he was passed untampered edibles. "Later, when the chaos recedes slightly."

The brunette nodded. "How are you two doing?"

"Better. We talked some." Harry changed the direction of the conversation by asking, "Where's Ron?"

"Medical checkup. His shoulder was hurting him."

"I'm sorry about that."

"It's not your fault, Harry. Aurors get injured."

"He wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for me."

"And he wouldn't have made it home if it wasn't for you."

Harry hummed a near silent agreement to the stalled argument as Hermione lightened the mood a bit.

"Though he does seem to be injured rather often as a result of your love life."

He spluttered tea on the table in surprise. "That wasn't my fault. I warned him that was a Howler."

"It burnt his eyebrows off."

"He should have listened to me."

"I adore him, but I don't see how he didn't connect that green Howler."

Harry chuckled. "I was worried about that at the time."

"Worried about what?" Ron's interruption into the conversation caused the other two to start guiltily. He either didn't notice it, or ignored it, as he lifted his daughter from her restraints.

The focus of a wife was a swift-acting distraction. "What did the mediwizard say?"

Ron sighed. "To keep rubbing their stinky salve on the scar and eventually it will get better."

Harry chuckled at the way Hermione's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Severus will be here later. He probably has something that would work faster… And might smell less, but I don't guarantee that."

Ron smiled as he tickled his little girl and teased his friend. "Where is your greasy git anyway?"

Harry simply handed Ron a scone slathered with marmalade. "Ha, Ha."

He watched as the redhead took a large bite, unrepentant. When the youngest Weasley son began to bounce sharply in place, Harry snagged Cassie from her father's grasp.

"I believe your brothers call them Jumping Jellies."

Ron looked shocked a moment before he began to laugh. Hermione shook her head and started trying to unhex her husband.

"How many times will I have to tell you? Don't tease the man who learned revenge from a Slytherin."

Harry was still chuckling as he stepped through to the living room with his arms full of toddler.

+++++++++++

Arthur cursed mildly as he stumbled out the door to his workshop, billowing blue clouds following him. He lifted his head at the pop of Apparition.

"Ah, Severus. Hello there."

A quick bout of coughing caused him to bend in his attempts to clear his lungs. Snape looked askance at the scene before stepping closer and banishing the smoke with his wand.

"Problem?" The question was clearly sarcastic and paired with the slightest of smirks.

Arthur was unfazed and waved off the well-hidden concern. "Nothing serious. Just a small experiment I've been working on."

The Potions Master nodded, looking towards the house and the sounds of happiness echoing from the yard beyond. Arthur stood straight, flushing slightly.

"Before you go inside, I was hoping to speak with you."

Severus turned to the other wizard with an eyebrow raised. "Of course." The barest sign of confusion was evident in his voice.

Arthur gestured away from the house before leading Severus through the scant line of trees that delineated the area used by his children as a Quidditch pitch. When he stopped, Severus watched as the flush crept back onto his face.

The redhead took a deep breath before speaking traditional words. "Severus Snape, I would offer to be envoy for you to Harry Potter."

The Potions Master stilled, the shock bleeding quickly from his face to be replaced with his impassive shield.

"Why would you make such a statement to me?"

Arthur released the breath he'd been holding in a rush. "Well, Molly's father made the offer to me. He knew, even before she'd thought about it, that I could never offer for her."

He shrugged slightly. "The perpetual Weasley finances, you know. Seeing as how Harry's practically a son to Molly and I…"

Snape interrupted, some dark emotion cutting through his words. "That is not what I meant."

Arthur seemed taken aback. "Oh." He spoke again after a lengthy and silent pause. "I apologize then. It seems we have all greatly misunderstood your feelings for Harry."

The Potions Master clenched his jaw. "You have not. My intentions towards the impossible brat are precisely what you have assumed."

It was Arthur's turn to look confused. "Then why?"

Severus was still curt as he looked into the distance over the other wizard's shoulder.

"Why would you offer to assist in securing to me a young man that you have admitted to consider your seventh son?"

Arthur's face softened. "You make him happy."

"You… Of all people… Know what I was… What I have done..."

Nodding gently, Arthur gestured across the field. A slight rise of hill was in direct sun, a bench of marble gleaming in the light.

"Percy never sought to redeem himself. He died trying to kill his sister. He was doing it to protect a man he called Master from you and Harry. Molly and I brought him home anyway because he was part of our family."

Severus clearly heard the words, but had no true comprehension of their meaning. Arthur spoke again, "You are a part of our family because Harry chose you."

The darker man pierced him with a look, gathering the veracity of the statement from the honest and unflinching eyes. "Then I would be honored to consider your offer."

As they moved back towards the house, Arthur only looked back once at the final resting place of his Death Eater son.

+++++++++++

"Come on, Harry. You know how Charlie gets about going against you for the Snitch. He brought a regulation one just so we can play."

"In case it escaped your attention, Ron… I'm holding your daughter and Mione's busy."

They both looked over to where Hermione and Ginny were having a rather loud conversation on the relative merits of swearing off men. Ron shuddered at the idea of interrupting his wife.

"We'll find someone else to hold Cassie. I got shot because of you; you owe me."

Ron hadn't noticed the tall figure who'd stepped up behind him until he spoke. "Guilt? How very Slytherin of you, Auror Weasley."

Harry laughed as Ron jumped and began to stammer for an excuse before he remembered that Snape was no longer his professor. Ron brought forth a response from his well of Gryffindor courage.

"Since it's partly your fault I was injured, you should hold her while we play."

Some of his bravery faded as Harry sniggered and Snape stared him down with that damn eyebrow. Finally, a response came in the silky voice. "Very well."

It was hard to say who was more surprised when the Potions Master lifted the baby from Harry's arms. Any doubt about his competency began to drift away as he cradled the child against his shoulder. Cassie wasted no time in securing a fistful of long, dark hair and bringing it to her mouth.

"Cassiopeia Weasley, cease that this instant!"

Harry's eyes widened at the professorial tones, but not as much as Ron's when the young child complied immediately with a chortle of baby laughter. While she didn't release the fistful of hair, it was no longer being gnawed upon or tugged about.

"Damn, Harry. I'm not going to feel bad about asking you to baby-sit ever again."

The last of Ron's doubts regarding the suitability of Severus Snape for his friend had fallen away. Harry was still staring, only closing his mouth when he realized he must look a right fool.

+++++++++++

From across the yard, Hermione stopped in mid-sentence when Ginny interrupted, "Now, isn't that sweet."

She hadn't even realized she was gaping open-mouthed until her sister-in-law tapped her on the jaw. Hermione just continued to watch as Harry and Ron moved off with the other Weasley men towards the Quidditch pitch.

Observing the somewhat severe older man who appeared to be quietly conversing with her daughter, she wondered aloud, "Maybe I should go rescue him."

Ginny flapped a hand negligently. "Leave him alone… If he can handle Harry, Cassie will be no problem."

They watched discreetly for a moment before Ginny spoke again. "Besides, I don't think he'd say it, but he's enjoying himself."

Hermione, watching as Snape went through his range of glares only to elicit giggles and responded with the twitching of his lips, was forced to agree. "This is probably a good idea. A blind man could see Harry wants a family someday."

"All the good ones are mated or gay."

Hermione turned in shock. "Ginevra Weasley. I thought you were over Harry."

"I am… I wouldn't have been good for him. I've never been able to see completely beyond the Boy Who Lived. Professor Snape's perfect for him. He's only ever seen Harry."

Nodding, the older girl waited for her to continue.

"But if I ever find someone like him that I'm not in awe of? That boy better watch out."

Hermione was just left to shake her head, laughing softly at her sister-in-law's quickly lost foreswearing of the male half of the species.

+++++++++++

Later in the day, as the young children were napping inside under the watchful eyes of their grandparents, the other adults nibbled at afternoon tea. Harry was sprawled on the grass; teacup perched on his stomach, his head pillowed on Severus' thigh as the older man leaned against a tree.

Although they had elicited a few glances, the others were too much family to comment on the rare permission of a public display of affection. When the Potions Master began to card his fingers through messy black hair, they all simply gave as much privacy as was possible.

The idyllic afternoon was broken by the bereft strains of birdsong.

"That's familiar somehow." Harry's voice drew a faint hum of agreement from the man on which he leaned.

The answer came quickly as the song cleared into distinct phoenix trills, and the red and gold bird appeared in the air above them to settle on Harry's uplifted knee.

"Fawkes?" Concern and curiosity wiped away the drifting sleepy haze from Harry's mind as he bent forward.

Untying the parchment from the leg of the phoenix, he passed it to his lover and caressed the bird's head. The tone of his song drew a mournful feeling in Harry's chest as he lifted the bird from its perch and drew himself upright to cuddle the soft feathers.

"Fawkes, what's wrong?" There was predictably no answer, causing Harry to look at Severus.

The Potions Master was tight-lipped as he banished their teacups to float back to the kitchen and stood. Harry did as well, drawing the bird to his chest with no resistance from the sentient and emotional creature.

"All staff have been recalled to the castle."

Harry nodded and called out their departure to the yard. There was concern regarding the immediacy, but swift promises of explanation appeased the group for now.

The two men Apparated, Fawkes still clutched in Harry's grip and seemingly disinclined to move.

+++++++++++

Appearing at the gates to Hogsmeade, Harry steadied himself against Severus for a moment before holding out his arm. The phoenix, with talons carefully hooked in his sleeve, didn't move and simply met his gaze. He shook his arm gently, trying to spur the magical creature into movement.

His actions were greeted with a soft trill at first, then action. But rather than the anticipated flight, Fawkes moved carefully up his arm to settle on his shoulder.

Harry turned his head to share a look with the Potions Master. The downy comfort of feathers on his neck didn't ease his worries in the least.

"He's never acted like this before."

Severus' gaze was shuttered as he looked from the phoenix to Harry and back again. Harry could see the traces of pain and worry in the tensing of his lover's jaw when he spoke.

"We should make haste."

As they proceeded towards the castle, it was all Harry could do to match the lengthy strides of the other man. The entire circumstance screamed of a crisis. Harry wondered vaguely if there'd been another attack. He dismissed the thought, rationalizing that more people would have been summoned.

Then, as he moved closer to the castle and inside the wards, he began to feel the difference. The Hogwarts staff had been recalled because the problem was with the school.

Hogwarts, raised from the land by the greatest wizards of that age, fed on the rampant excesses of generations of adolescents, and imbued with layer upon layer of protection all focused through its guiding patron, was in many ways a sentient magical creature. And now, that being was keening in pain, the sensation skittering across Harry's magical senses.

As he understood the odd behavior of Fawkes, the sudden call for staff, and the desperation of Hogwarts itself, Harry gasped out one word - "Albus!"

His increased pace was matched by his companion until the dark robed pair were running up the sloping lawns. They were met at the main doors by the castle's caretaker.

Argus Filch, whom Harry had never seen with a kind expression, looked crankier than usual. "They're waiting for you at the Headmaster's office."

The aged squib turned and stalked off, neither Harry nor Severus paying him any more attention as they hurried through the castle. The Potions Master was even more impatient than Harry as they rushed upon the gathering of staff outside the statue guarding the Headmaster's office.

"What has happened?"

Minerva turned away from Remus Lupin who had just taken his hands from the statue with no apparent effect. "Not now. We must locate the new Headmaster."

Harry gaped as Severus hissed, "And if it is not one of us?"

"If it is not Harry or yourself, then the castle may sustain permanent damage before a bond is reformed."

As his lover nodded, Harry frowned. "What happened to Albus?"

He received no true answer as Remus directed him with a firm grip. "Soon, Harry. Just put your hands on the statue."

The sight of Fawkes on the young man's shoulder seemed to comfort some of the staff. Still confused and worried beyond reason, Harry allowed himself to be led. His palms flat against the stone, he could feel the castle's aura include him for a long breathless moment before he was released - rejected.

He staggered slightly, steadied by Remus' hand on his elbow.

"We should begin to summon candidates." Harry listened to the detachment in his lover's statement, knowing how much emotion must be hidden behind the façade.

"Not until you've tried." The certainty in Harry's voice gathered him strange looks from Remus and Filius. Binns, completely incompatible due to his being dead, had apparently not been summoned.

Severus was clearly more skeptical than the youngest of the staff. "We must be realistic. Of the staff, I am the least likely to be found acceptable."

Harry smiled. "Please?"

The Potions Master frowned, but stepped closer. "What do you know?"

Harry was forced to tilt his head back to meet the dark eyes. He could tell that the other man was searching for something to take his mind off Dumbledore's still unknown fate.

"Call it the intuition behind my Gryffindor luck."

Severus' eyes narrowed slightly. None of the professors paid even the slightest of attentions to Trelawney as she began to babble of dark men and doom. Firenze was watching them all with that too wise stare.

Breathing deeply and steadily, Severus stepped around Harry until he faced the statue. He laid his palms upon it, fingers splayed as if seeking something in the touch. It was pure silence in the corridor as they waited.

Suddenly, as if with a great shuddering sigh, the constant irritation from the wards subsided. Severus gasped, his eyes rolling back in their sockets and he began to crumble limply to the floor.

"Severus!"

Harry's startled cry covered the mixture of concern from the others. He grabbed the taller man, lowering them both to the cold stone as he cradled his lover. It was only at the odd grinding noise that Harry looked up from the still and silent face to watch the statue change.

The figure that had guarded Albus Dumbledore's domain for as long as Harry had known was morphing. The once proud representation was a mess of shifting stone and half-dissolved particles. Before the eyes of the staff, a new figure became apparent.

A column, Grecian in style, wrapped with the figure of a runespoor, now stood before the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

Severus awoke with a sharp inhalation. He was blinking rapidly, his eyes unfocused. Harry smoothed hair back from the thin face as Minerva kneeled beside the pair. The stress showed on her face and in her voice.

"Congratulations, Headmaster."

The sentiment was echoed by the other staff members as the frantic gathering began to break up. Only Lupin remained behind with the trio. As Severus seemed to recenter himself in his body, Harry asked, "What happened to Albus?"

Harry received his answer from the least likely person as Severus sat up. "He's been poisoned."

The young man stared at his lover as they all rose to their feet once again. The older man didn't notice the worry as he set the password on his office with a faint whisper of 'Asphodel.'

Minerva laid a hand on Harry's bare shoulder. "The castle speaks to the Headmaster. Albus is in the infirmary."

Harry could only nod at her words. The Deputy Headmistress drew Severus' attention, encouraging him to lead the way.

As they moved through the castle, portraits whispered. It was the first time for Harry that the stairs moved specifically to make his trip shorter. But they hadn't really moved for him… they'd moved for Severus.

When Harry began to think that he couldn't bear the emotion of it all any longer, there was a soft note from his shoulder. Fawkes shifted, pressing his warm weight further against Harry. It was enough to get him the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing.

The quartet entered to find Poppy and Susan quietly consulting outside one of the private rooms. Their backs to the closed door, presumably beyond which Albus lay, they cast expectant glances at the group.

The Potions Master's long stride outpaced the rest as he approached. Madame Pomfrey simply looked at him for a moment before identifying the change in his signature.

"Headmaster."

Susan looked like she was barely restraining tears as she nodded respectfully at her former professor.

The commanding voice was soft as he asked, "How is he?"

Poppy seemed subdued and justifiably so. "He collapsed at lunch. It's mercury poisoning. There's nothing we can do."

With only a sharp nod, Severus entered the private room and closed the door behind himself.

+++++++++++

Harry stared at the door. He barely noticed when Minerva moved with Poppy and Susan to the far side of the ward. It wasn't even certain that he was seeking an answer when he plaintively stated, "I don't understand."

Recognizing the imminent emotional collapse in his honorary godson, Remus summoned a pair of the side chairs typically kept in the infirmary. When they were both sitting, facing the other, Harry spoke again.

"It's just a poison… Why can't they help?"

"It's mercury poisoning. It's affecting him not only physically, but also magically. The Headmaster bond collapsed when his power centers were disrupted."

Remus had to pause and wipe away the liquid slipping down his cheeks. "Albus is very old. Without the castle, he doesn't have the strength to fight this. Even then, it's usually only the weakest of wizards that survive as there is less disruption in their magical centers."

Harry's voice was clogged and he reached up to mindlessly pet Fawkes. "Albus is far from weak in that manner."

The Defense professor nodded, his own voice silenced by emotional pain. Harry's emotions began to change, the anger and outrage drawing closer to the surface. "How did it happen?"

"It was ingested, but we have no idea how. The elves wouldn't have been able to do such a thing."

"Kreacher was able to betray Sirius."

Remus flinched. "They're magical creatures; contact with it would have killed them as well."

+++++++++++

When the door clicked shut behind Severus, it all became very real for him. This frail old figure in the bed before him was going to die.

The sense of the castle and wards, that echoing knowledge that come from outside him, still danced at the edges of his mind. His scientific curiosity wondered if all Headmasters had been Occlumens - either trained or not. It certainly made his now too-crowded skull more bearable.

He only became aware that he was standing at the bedside, silent, when the weak voice reached his ears.

"Severus, my boy."

Onyx eyes met periwinkle and the Headmaster clenched his jaw around an unacceptable outburst of grief as he acknowledged his predecessor.

"Albus."

The younger of the men noticed the tremor in the pale, spotted hands as they lay atop the sheet. It was another sharp stab at his walls.

"I am pleased that the castle has accepted you. Be careful that while this school is a demanding mistress, it does not overwhelm your life. You and Harry…"

The aged voice tapered off in coughing and muscle spasms. Severus perched close to the bed on the available stool.

"Albus, this does not have to happen. There is a potion that would help. It would leave you a squib, but the removal of the magical disruption would allow you to survive."

One of the frail hands moved atop a younger, stronger one.

"I do not fear death, my boy. My only regret is that my family will bear the burdens of my mistakes."

It was possible that Albus could see the confusion on the younger man's face, or perhaps he merely had the need to confess his perceived sins.

"I was young and easily led. Only now can I see what a mistake the P.A.P.A. laws have become."

Severus could watch the older man fading before his eyes. "Albus, please."

"I am glad that I had the chance to know your son, even though I will never see him born."

Albus Dumbledore took a last hesitant breath as life slipped its grip upon him. The self-containment of the new Headmaster broke; salty drops sliding down his cheeks for the loss of the first adult he'd truly believed had loved him.

+++++++++++

After ten minutes, Harry had started pacing. After fifteen, he'd stopped even that to stare at a far wall. They were waiting for Albus to die and it was driving him crazy. A man who'd been practically family to him had been effectively murdered; they didn't know who had done it, and it was driving him mad.

Severus stepped out of the closed door, his appearance sallow and sickly from stress in a way it hadn't been for years.

"He's gone."

The soft words released the others' grief, but for Harry they prodded him to movement. He stepped forward and gathered his lover in a fierce embrace that muffled their mutual pain.

+++++++++++

Harry stopped at the bottom of the last staircase and leaned over. Wincing as his back finished popping, he straightened and continued on his way to Severus' quarters. The quarters were still in the dungeons, the only concession to his new position the magically connected door from his sitting room to his office.

It had been four days since Albus' death, but from what Harry could tell, Severus had yet to enter the Headmaster's office. Fawkes, it seemed, had chosen to stay with Harry and Hedwig had grudgingly accepted the other bird's presence.

While Harry had been assisting Minerva with the preparations for the Headmaster's memorial in the week before the start of term, Severus continued to simply brood. Exhausted and irritated, all before noon, Harry was fed up with it.

His entrance into the quarters was acknowledged with the barest glance before Severus returned to staring at the new door. Harry, encouraged that at least the brandy wasn't out, dragged the chair from the writing table and straddled it in reverse directly in Severus' line of sight.

He smirked in response to the grumpy expression before speaking. "What have you been doing all morning?"

"I appeased your bloody birds. Yourself?"

"Answering more inquiries as to why our new Headmaster won't give an interview."

"I despise journalists."

"Luna's offered an issue specifically about what's been happening."

The slightest tilt of Severus' head. "That may prove acceptable."

"Severus, you can't keep staring. You're going to have to go inside."

"It is not my office."

"It is now and this school needs you."

Severus frowned, allowing Harry to continue.

"You can't teach and be Headmaster. It's too much, even for you. You have to decide before term starts if you're changing anything."

A slightly distant glance. "Not this year, perhaps next."

"We're still going to need a new Potions professor."

A heavy sigh. "Someone in my laboratories."

"Not necessarily. Just someone else teaching the dunderheads."

The faintest of smiles. "As if the Board of Governors is an appreciable improvement."

Silence for a time before Harry continued. He'd lain his arms on the chair back, perching his chin on his piled hands. "Do you remember what you told me in the infirmary after I killed Tom?"

The directness of the onyx gaze was returning and Harry could feel it silently interrogating. "You told me that I had to keep living because I hadn't been one of those who had died and I hadn't done anything wrong by living."

Harry smiled suddenly. "And then I started to blubber all over you…. I don't expect you to get emotional, but you have to keep going."

There was no response. Frustrated, Harry stood and stepped over to the office door. He stated, "Asphodel," and had his hand on the latch before stilling at the grip on his arm. With the barest of expectations, he looked at his lover who had risen to stop him.

"I cannot allow this."

"Severus…"

"No, Harry. That is the only room that has yet to be checked for contamination. Nothing was found elsewhere in the castle and that implies there may still be a mercury presence in that office."

Harry released the latch. "I know that. I wasn't about to do anything foolishly Gryffindor."

Severus' hand slid up Harry's arm and ghosted over his hair. The younger wizard could see the desperate emotion in the black eyes. "I cannot lose you as well."

Harry was forced to step back as Severus took hold of the latch. The older man eased the door back a few inches, chanting a Latinate incantation that would locate and secure any contaminants.

As he opened the entrance further, it became apparent that it had replaced the door that had previously connected the office to Albus' quarters. The blue light of the spell preceded their entry, soaking into the many surfaces before continuing on.

It flared suddenly, enclosing a bag and tin from the desk in a protective bubble of magical force before fading from everywhere else. Severus stepped to the desk, examining the items through the bluish haze.

"It becomes apparent as to the manner of ingestion. His lemon drops were adulterated."

Harry leaned over the desk, frowning. "That's not his usual confectioner. I suppose we should notify the Aurors so they can retrieve them as evidence."

The desire to exact a personal revenge on the culprits caused the Headmaster to fight an internal battle before his finer instincts came forth. "I suppose you are right."

As Severus scanned the office, mentally categorizing the steps he would need to take, he observed Harry attempting to nonchalantly add a roll of parchment to the desk.

"What is that?"

The unexpected question caused the younger man to start guiltily. Verdant eyes were unrepentant and didn't quite match the wry but hesitant smile. "I wanted there to be one hopefully pleasant memory of your first time in here."

Harry gestured nervously. "To balance some of the grief."

The Headmaster's brow furrowed and he reached for the roll, watching how Harry's eyes shifted anxiously. The younger wizard sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and bounced on the balls of his feet.

"I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to say goodbye, but he had a good life."

Severus stilled, pointing the end of the roll of parchment at his companion. "You only prattle in this manner when you're nervous. Should I be concerned?"

Harry took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "No, I'm sorry. It's just… anticipation."

The Potions Master shook his head and cracked the wax seal on the roll. "It is best that you did not see Albus at the end. The poisoning had affected his mind as well as his magic."

"How so?"

Harry's question interrupted Severus' motions, causing him to pause in his unrolling of the parchment. "I believe he was mildly delusional from the comments he made. I would not wish you to remember him that way."

"But it's okay if you do?"

Severus' mouth twitched into what Harry recognized as his version of a gentle smile. "I have many more years of memories to balance the effect."

Harry sighed as Severus began to skim the short, formal letter. When the older man sat suddenly in the chair behind his new desk, Harry approached him.

"Severus?"

The onyx eyes met his, rising with some hesitation from the paper. Harry couldn't help the flush that crept onto his face. "If it's too much or too soon, you can tell me."

The dark gaze returned to the page and he lifted a faintly stained index finger to trace the words. "A Declaration of Suit?"

"Yes."

When nothing further came, Harry moved in front of Severus' chair and leaned back on the desk. "Severus?"

He waited for the eyes to meet his before continuing. "I didn't want to just hand you a contract. If you agree, we'd be equal in deciding what it would say. I just wanted you to know I was thinking about it."

He swallowed hard and then said the hardest words that had ever occurred to him. "I needed to say it so I would know… In case you weren't."

Severus looked at Harry and the younger man was temporarily unable to read the man's emotions. As Harry began to wonder if he'd made a mistake, Severus shifted forward in the chair. He trapped Harry against the desk between his thighs.

The Headmaster laid the parchment on the desk and reached past his lover's hip to tap it with his wand. When he spoke, he held the younger man's shining emerald gaze.

"I, Severus Snape, do accept the contract suit of Harry Potter and will negotiate with him on terms to be decided by All Hallow's Eve."

The bottom half of the parchment filled in with his words before the official gold seal of a Ministry filing appeared on the page and the whole thing disappeared. Harry could only close his eyes and concentrate on breathing in an attempt to steady his nerves.

When Severus stood, pressed against the younger man, as he hadn't moved back, Harry's eyes flew open. He was smiling in that overly sentimental manner to which he was occasionally prone.

"So you were thinking about it… I suppose this means you're mine now."

Severus leaned in, his words and breath aired directly into Harry's ear.

"The term is betrothed, my Muggle-raised heathen."

Harry released a breathy chuckle. "When that hits the Hall of Records, we're going to be deluged with owls."

The Headmaster smirked, causing Harry to continue. The younger man had shifted open the top buttons of his waistcoat and was playing with the folds of his cravat. "It's not you that Minerva will have a fit on when she realizes there's going to be more post."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "If you will begin to sort through this cluttered anarchy, I will inform her."

Harry smiled. "It's a deal."

Bending his head, Severus bestowed a kiss full of promises on his younger lover before stepping away from the desk.

+++++++++++

Severus could hear the echoing rumble of a Howler as he approached the Great Hall. Inside, the Deputy Headmistress seemed to barely control the chaos.

Mail had been sorted across the four house tables, as Filius opened and redirected the envelopes to their correct pile. Minerva was in her usual seat at the Head Table, surrounded by ledgers, books, and smaller sliding piles of letters.

The most recently entered owl spotted and flew directly for the Headmaster, dropping a red envelope at his feet. Severus saw it begin to smoke before dispatching it with a quick, "Incendio."

His spell caught the attention of the other two professors. Filius contented himself with a wave of greeting, but Minerva was not so easily appeased.

"Severus Snape, it's about time you came in here."

He continued around the Head Table and seated himself beside her. Before he'd had the chance to speak, she pointed at the nearest stack of letters. "You simply must make some public statement, or grant an interview. They will not cease asking."

He looked at the harried woman and registered that her tasks were keeping her from falling too fully into grief. Forestalling any further commentary, he spoke calmly. "Mrs. Longbottom may speak freely with Harry and myself. The Prophet may conduct an interview, but only if the final article is reviewed by yourself before publication."

Minerva snorted. "That might get them off my back. This is the first time I can remember them wanting to speak with you more than Harry."

"That will change."

"Oh, yes, eventually. But for now the vultures are after you."

Minerva caught sight of the Headmaster's smirk and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. It was rare to see him so pleased and she felt every right to be suspicious. "What did you do?"

The smirk increased by an order of magnitude. "You will be receiving more post and likely a good many more Howlers."

"It's only just tapered off!"

"There has been a new development."

Minerva waited, mouth pinched in irritation. "Well?"

"Mr. Potter and I will be signing a contract on Halloween."

The yelp of surprise and subsequent sound of mounds of paper sliding from a table revealed that Professor Flitwick had, indeed, been eavesdropping. Minerva stared at him for a moment before pulling a handkerchief from the sleeve of her robes. Severus could see the emotion creeping onto her usually stern face.

"Albus would have been so happy for you both, as I am."

+++++++++++

When the Headmaster returned to his office, it was to find Harry in one of the armchairs and his head buried in a file. From the stack next to him on a small table, it wasn't his first. Green eyes looked up and met his expectantly.

"Minerva and Filius send their felicitations."

Harry smiled brightly before pointing at something Severus couldn't see on the page. "Did you know that Filch wasn't always a squib?"

The Headmaster frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He was in his second year at Durmstrang. It says here he was expelled per the terms of P.A.P.A."

"Where did you find this?"

Harry gestured to the stack. "I found the personnel files. I figured you would need them. And, well… I was really hoping for some clue as to why Albus kept Trelawney on staff."

Severus snorted. "Inertia, most likely. At least once the protection of her prophecy was no longer a necessity."

Harry returned again to the file in front of him as the other man sat in the matched chair. "Why would Filch's father want him expelled?"

"P.A.P.A. does not refer to his father. It refers to the Paternity/Association Protection Act passed in 1946."

Harry was obviously confused. "Okay."

"Is there a series of letters and numbers next to that sentence?"

Sliding a finger down the page, he read them off: "P-3S-45G."

"I did not know that."

Harry looked concerned when the Headmaster straightened and went introspective. "Know what?"

"P.A.P.A. was passed after the defeat of Grindelwald. It was designed to protect wizarding society from future Dark Lords by removing potentials. Those connected by paternity to a Dark Lord would be made a squib through use of a potion that strips the magical centers. Those connected by direct association would be given a choice: Azkaban, the Dementor's Kiss, or life as a squib."

Harry's expression was twisted in shock. Severus continued, still distracted. "Albus was partially responsible for it, but said that P.A.P.A. legislation was a mistake. Perhaps he was not delusional at the end, as I believed… But that would not explain…"

"What does the code mean?"

"He was connected by paternity as the third child of Grindelwald's sister."

Harry closed the file and set it aside. "Why would Filch want to work for Albus if that was true?"

"Perhaps I should ask him."

Harry reflected for a moment on how life could change so quickly. He stilled, mind bringing forth a damning thought. "Severus?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember the last private meal we had with Albus?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember him mentioning that he'd run out of lemon drops and Argus had restocked his supply?"

"Perhaps when I question him, I should involve Veritaserum."

+++++++++++

It had taken two additional days before Severus believed that the Headmaster's office was ready. Items that were Albus' personally had been removed and boxed. Survived only by his brother, Aberforth, they did not yet know what would occur with the deceased wizard's estate.

Harry sighed as he placed the last of the files to be kept on top of the drawers. Severus had a plan… a very Slytherin plan. It had chafed at the young Gryffindor's need for prompt action and resolution.

He looked up as the Headmaster entered the office and gestured with the file he was holding. "I'm going to keep this one out to read. It's the file that Auror gave Mr. Weasley. I left the rest of the things in the desk for you."

Severus nodded and stretched, his back cracking ominously. "I will apply the glamour just before he arrives."

"I know you don't need my help, but I want to be here."

"Harry…"

"No, Severus. If he did it, I need to hear it for myself."

They stared, silently arguing an already heavily beleaguered point. Finally, the Headmaster nodded. "Stay in that corner, read if you must, but remain silent."

Harry smiled, but it was tainted with the pain of the anticipated meeting.

+++++++++++

Argus entered after knocking, observing the new Headmaster and his office. For a tower room, it was dark and subdued. Heavy green drapes blocked the mullioned windows from flooding the room with light as before. The light present came mostly from candles floating above their heads.

He cast a suspicious eye on the portraits as he moved to the desk and the hunched, dark-haired man.

"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?"

Snape looked up from a parchment on which he had been writing, his gaze fierce. Their eyes locked before the Headmaster gestured to the chair in front of the desk. The caretaker silently approved. The gaudy, squashy armchairs of before had been replaced with ones of straight-backed wood.

"I wish to discuss this school's discipline problem, Mr. Filch."

Argus frowned. "Didn't think you'd be much interested in that, seeing as you're involved with Potter."

Snape sneered nastily. "Political expediency, nothing more."

The aged squib nodded carefully as the Headmaster continued, "I understand you've kept the equipment for the traditional punishments?"

"Yes, sir. It's oiled and ready."

"A drink, Mr. Filch?"

"Not in the mood for tea, Headmaster."

Snape smirked and pulled out a bottle he'd laid specifically aside earlier. "Ogden's Finest, Mr. Filch?"

The caretaker's smile was foul as he nodded agreement. After passing the squib a glass, the Headmaster had barely begun to pour his own. He stopped, no longer needing the charade as Filch had already drained his.

If Severus' sneer had been nasty before, his smile now was downright threatening. "Satisfactory, Mr. Filch?"

That first question was lost as the haze of Veritaserum overtook the caretaker's mind. The Headmaster leaned on his desk, watching as the older man's pupils widened under the influence.

"What is your name?"

"Argus Filch."

"Why did you take a position at Hogwarts?"

"To be near Albus Dumbledore."

"Why did you want to be employed near Albus Dumbledore?"

"My brother asked it of me."

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Two."

"Where are they now?"

"My sister is in Abney Park, London. I don't know where my brother is."

"Why did your brother want you to be near Albus Dumbledore?"

"It was part of his plan."

"What was his plan?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't you know your brother's plan?"

"He didn't tell me."

"What did your brother's plan concern?"

"Revenge."

"Revenge for what?"

"The death of our uncle, the death of our mother, our sister's suicide."

"Who is this revenge to be taken against?"

"Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter."

"Why Albus Dumbledore?"

"He killed our uncle and he made the law that ruined our lives."

"Why Harry Potter?"

"He's followed Albus Dumbledore, making more families suffer."

"Did you give Albus Dumbledore mercury-laced lemon drops?"

"Yes."

"Why did you give the lemon drops to him?"

"Because my brother asked me to."

"Did you know the lemon drops were poisoned?"

"Yes."

"Are you or your brother connected to the recent attacks on Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Yes."

"What is the connection to the Diagon Alley attack?"

"My brother ordered Jaime to set the explosives."

"What happened to Jaime?"

"My brother killed him."

"Why did you brother kill him?"

"Because Harry Potter didn't die in the explosion."

Severus' hands, already clenched on the desk, were showing white bone at the knuckles.

"How did your brother know Harry Potter would be in Diagon Alley?"

"I told him."

"What is your and your brother's connection to the recent attack at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"My brother sent Carlos to the Leaky Cauldron."

"Why did he send Carlos there?"

"To kill Harry Potter."

"How did your brother know he would be in the Leaky Cauldron?"

"I told him after I overheard your fight."

"Why were they attacking Harry Potter rather than Albus Dumbledore?"

"Albus Dumbledore stayed in the castle, Harry Potter was a publicly accessible target."

"Why did Jaime and Carlos assist your brother?"

"They were squibs also, punished under a Spanish version of the law."

"How did they meet your brother?"

"They were in the same unit in the Spanish military."

"Is your brother still in the military?"

"No."

"What is your brother's name?"

"He is the dragon."

"Why do you call him the dragon?"

"He found the story of the dragon."

"What is the story of the dragon?"

"The man killed the grindel and his family. The dragon killed the man."

"Are you speaking of the story of Beowulf?"

"I don't know."

"Is anyone helping your brother now?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't you know if anyone else is helping your brother?"

"The disciples speak only with the dragon."

"Why did your brother tell you about Jaime and Carlos?"

"They failed. It was time for me to stop hiding and strike back for our family."

Severus leaned back in his chair, pain, grief, and rage twisting his features. He clenched his fingers against his temples, closing his eyes momentarily and promising himself a headache relief draught as soon as he was finished.

From his corner, Harry's silence was preserved only by the fist stuffed between his teeth. Tears were sliding down his cheeks at the crushing revelations. He didn't know anyone who could say they liked Filch, but he'd never expected this level of treachery and betrayal.

The Headmaster opened his eyes as the caretaker began to cough. He'd expected to have at least a half hour. As it had not approached that mark, he assumed the truth serum must not have diluted evenly in the alcohol.

Severus drew his wand while Filch was still blinking awareness back into his eyes.

"Avada…"

Harry darted forward, breaking the glamour on the office and grabbing his lover's wand arm. Filch grimaced before clenching his jaw and collapsing to the ground in spasms.

The Headmaster wrenched his arm away from Harry and turned on him with a glare. The younger man was prepared for the reaction, speaking first through his tears. "He's not worth it."

"He killed Albus!" The older wizard's face was alive with his fury, his knowledge and willingness to use the Darkest Arts hovering just behind a thin veneer of civility.

"You are not a murderer."

Severus sneered at the platitude. "I assure you, I am capable of it."

Harry shook his head. "That's not who you are now."

A faint growl of discontent met the younger man's optimistic words, prompting him to speak again. "It's a lost point, Severus. He's dead already."

They moved together around the desk to look down at the now still body. Harry's nose wrinkled.

"Do you smell that?"

The Potions Master nodded.

"Cyanide."

He kneeled, reaching for the caretaker's arm. Pushing up the sleeve, he found a tattoo of a dragon. A glance at Harry asked the question and received the expected reply.

"It's the same."

Severus looked back down, the last of the fury having bled out of his voice.

"Obviously Muggle work. I don't believe there are any wizards involved."

Harry leaned over, offering comfort with his hand on Severus' shoulder.

"Albus said the law was a mistake."

A silent nod was his reply and he continued, "He was right, I think. Voldemort hated Muggles because of how he was treated. Now someone's hating wizards for the same reason."

Severus stood and turned to his lover, ignoring the body on the floor of his office.

"They don't want to kill wizards, Harry. They want to kill you."

Flabbergasted, Harry could only stare as Severus moved away from him and tossed a handful of powder into the fire. "Ministry of Magic, Auror Division."

It was mere moments before pink spikes preceded a face. "Auror HQ. How can I help you?" The woman's eyes widened at the scene before her. "Wotcher, Harry, Headmaster Snape."

Severus was his typically endearing, impatient self.

"Get Shacklebolt and come through."

"Kingsley's out. Want me to come alone or find someone else?"

The Headmaster shook his head. "Come through."

The female Auror tumbled out of the fire, somehow keeping her feet in a manner that still defied Harry at his best. She looked around as she brushed herself off, admiring the office.

"Nice. Didn't know you had it in you, Professor. But it's too Slytherin for Harry to have decorated."

With the glamour broken, the office was rather nice. Harry had taken a moment to tie back the velvet drapes with loops of thin silver braid. The furniture was cherry-toned and highly glossed now rather than ebony and scarred. It all matched in an elegant and coordinated manner without excessive frills. It was, as she had said, Slytherin in style, but it was also tasteful, subdued and as strictly ordered as the man who would occupy it.

Her expression was almost comical when she registered Filch's body and the still revealed tattoo.

"Morgana's entrails… I'm going to need your statements."

+++++++++++

Hours later, when Tonks had left and the floor was clear of dead bodies, Harry watched Severus pace his office. He was seated on the desk, having eschewed the straight-backed Baroque chairs as too dainty and not wanting to take the Headmaster's more comfortable seat.

It came as somewhat of a surprise when Severus ceased his stalking to turn and stare at Harry. Harry froze, his eyes widening at the look. The Headmaster moved to him in a graceful stride before taking his head between both hands. The kiss they shared was not gentle. Severus was desperately devouring the mouth of his younger lover.

Harry pulled back, a question in his eyes. "Severus?"

The taller man leaned over him, forcing him to lie back against the desk. His mouth moved over Harry's throat to speak directly to his skin.

"I will not have that be the overriding thought in a place I must occupy so frequently."

The sheer delight of the unexpected contact caused Harry to arch and moan softly as the words kept coming.

"I would rather recall shagging you across my desk."

Green eyes popped open to meet deepest black. "We've never…" Understanding crossed his face, leaving a faint blush. "Oh." Harry wondered distantly how it was possible for that onyx gaze to darken further.

His eyes were locked on that gaze as Severus took the time to manually rid him of his clothing. Other than the rare peaceful evening in their quarters, garments were usually banished to the laundry with a spell. This time, Harry found himself displayed like a feast atop his clothing that cushioned the wooden desk.

The Headmaster had no such patience for his own garb as they were stripped roughly. In consideration of their location, he was not nude but the robe hung loose and open to frame the thin, pale frame.

Harry reached out, beckoning his love to join him. Severus drew him to the edge of the desk with a soft grasp at his hips, bending over to suckle at Harry's nipples and tease at his lips. The torment shortly had the younger wizard writhing on the desk, his cries echoing up to the vaulted ceiling.

Severus trusted in the convenience of a spell to make Harry ready, his impulse not having provided with the necessities for such an encounter. His loosened robes shielded not only his own modesty, but draped in a cocoon over his lover as they rocked on the desk.

Soon their joint cries were echoing in the office… Exhalations of pleading, devotion, and love.

They moved to banish the foul specter of deceit and betrayal. And as they spun higher in a guiding loop of pleasure, each finished with the other's name on their lips.

Only when the pair had slipped from the office to continue their practices in the comfort of their rooms, was there a reaction from the portraits.

"That sort of thing would never have been accepted in my day!"

The portrait of Dumbledore merely used his beloved lemon drops like missiles to silence the protestations of Headmaster Dippet. He, all things considered, could not have been happier for the two men.

+++++++++++

Despite the busy lives of the Order members, there was a delay of barely twenty-four hours before the core of the group could gather once more. Far less social than the last time and more reminiscent of their war strategy meetings, the group was small. They'd gathered this time in the staff meeting room at Hogwarts.

Remus leaned heavily on the table, as the full moon was only days away. Next to him, Arthur Weasley was speaking quietly with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Tonks was flipping through her own reports, wondering precisely what was keeping the others.

Harry hurried into the room with an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Minor emergency with the memorial plans."

He exchanged greetings with the four before looking around, confused. "Severus isn't here yet?"

Arthur looked up from his conversation with the Auror to make a suggestion. "Perhaps you should get us started and he can join in when he arrives."

Harry frowned. "I don't know. Shouldn't that be his decision?"

Both Tonks and Harry wondered at the speaking glances shared by the three older members of the Order. When their silent communication was finished, Professor Lupin had apparently been chosen to explain. "Harry, you're the head of the Order."

Harry was flabbergasted. "What? When did that happen?"

The sickly-looking werewolf smiled. "When Fawkes chose you. It's called the Order of the Phoenix for a reason."

The younger man sighed heavily. "This would be much easier if I heard about these things in advance."

Harry skimmed his parchment and looked slightly distracted. "Okay… Where to start?"

"Why don't you begin by explaining this, Mr. Potter?"

The Headmaster entered the room in a flurry of black robes and irritation. He handed Harry a note before seating himself calmly at the table. "My apologies for the delay, I had some difficulty locating this." He tapped the file in front of him; the Paradox division insignia clear on its cover.

Harry read through the note that Severus had handed him before reply. "This doesn't apply to our current situation."

It was easy to see that the Potions Master was annoyed. "Albus clearly thought differently as it was in the Grindelwald file."

As Harry began to shake his head, Arthur interrupted, "What does it say?"

Harry read off the note, attempting to resolve the issue. When he was finished, he passed the slip of paper to Tonks. "It's genuine. It's in my handwriting and I personally gave it to Albus on the night of Voldemort's defeat."

Kingsley frowned. "You were in the planning meeting. You never gave Albus a note."

"I should say that I will, at some point, go back and give that to Albus in the Great Hall after he'd stepped away from the planning meeting."

Tonks had passed the note to the other Auror already when she spoke up. "It doesn't make sense. Professor Dumbledore didn't die until almost three years after that."

Severus raised an eyebrow, looking critically at his mate. "Mucking about with the time stream, Potter?"

Harry smirked in response. "You tell me. Albus said you were standing in the room when it happened."

Green eyes showed his obvious amusement at the shock on Severus' face. Kingsley chose that moment to make his own contribution.

"If Albus survived that battle because of this, then that is what was supposed to occur. If he should have died that night, then an Unspeakable would have prevented the alteration."

Arthur was still trying to understand the connection. "Then why would Albus think that had some bearing on now?"

Harry shook his head. "We'll never know what Albus thought. But if he had died that night, then who knows how long this group would have gone without acting."

The subject tapered off as Harry addressed Kingsley directly. "Is there anything new about Diagon Alley?"

Shacklebolt nodded. "After I read Tonks' report, I did some looking around. On August 2nd, a body was pulled out of the Thames. He was killed in what the Muggles call 'execution-style' by a single pistol shot. The arms had been removed at the elbows. However, from our information, dental records have confirmed his identity as Jaime Vega."

Harry wasn't the only one at the table to grimace. "What about the Leaky Cauldron?"

Kingsley switched files. "Nothing new about the attack, but one of Tom's house elves caught a glimpse of the wizard who grabbed you as he was Apparating away. Taller than you, dark hair, Auror robes with the Paradox insignia."

Harry's natural state occasionally felt like eternal befuddlement. "What?"

Severus leaned forward, looking down the table. "Are you trying to tell us that a Paradox Unspeakable is protecting Harry?"

The Auror nodded.

"That's what it looks like. I've been in contact with an Unspeakable who retired from that division after an assignment guarding 1943-1945. They indicated that the pattern of his involvement and the presumed attacks on him reflects a Paradox task to make sure the target, in this case Harry, survives the wider situations."

Harry closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Setting aside that weirdness, what do you have, Tonks?"

The younger Auror shrugged. "You know we removed all Filch's possessions from the castle?"

At the nods, she continued. "We found a pattern. He was keeping detailed records on Professor Dumbledore, his brother Aberforth, and you, Harry. The only thing we can't find is his cat. It's possible that he had trained Mrs. Norris to carry messages to his brother. Kneazles have been known to be used in that manner before."

Remus frowned. "What's the Ministry doing about this?"

Kingsley responded on the younger woman's behalf. "Officially, Albus was murdered and the culprit is dead. However, not even Fudge can quash the continuing investigation into Diagon Alley. Too many dead witches and wizards."

"Just to get me," Harry remarked softly.

It was an unusual and unexpected public display of comfort when Severus reached out to hold Harry's hand on the tabletop. The green-eyed wizard smiled softly at his lover before looking down the table once more.

"Mr. Weasley, what do you think?"

The wizard considered his reply for a moment. "They're not going to stop now. As they no longer have an inside report on your movements, I believe we'll see a major hit at the memorial."

Harry glanced at the Headmaster. "Severus?"

"We don't know the extent of his support network. We can try to find him before, but it would be safest to limit your public visibility before the memorial."

Harry stilled his thumb from where he'd been rubbing it against the Potions Master's palm. "Minerva isn't going to be pleased about this. And, I don't really like the idea of using Albus' memorial to trap someone."

Remus took that moment to speak. "What other choice do we have, Harry?"

The young man sighed and released his partner's hand with a gentle squeeze. "We don't have any other choice. But that doesn't mean I can't hate it."

He shook his head. "All this because of a stupid bloody law and more bloody prejudice."

Tonks tossed out a thought. "Can't we see if Fudge will take action on the laws?"

Arthur Weasley, usually optimistic, snorted in disgust. "He'll see it as proof that the legislation is correct in its intent."

Harry frowned. "It's never right to punish someone for another's mistakes."

He looked down the table to meet Remus' eyes. "Moony, I'd like you to work up a list of everyone that was punished in connection with Voldemort under these laws. If someone's coming for us after this guy, I want to know before people start dying."

When the werewolf had nodded, Harry adjourned the meeting. The others drifted off, each having offered congratulations for their personal announcement, until only Harry and Severus were left at the table.

Their gazes met and held, the pressures created by the wizarding world once more falling on these two capable men.

"I really don't like this, Severus."

"Neither do I, Harry."

It was quiet until the Headmaster spoke again. "Were you aware that my name will appear on the wolf's list?"

"How so? I thought you received immunity as a spy for the Light."

"I received immunity for actions taken as a Death Eater. There is, however, an outstanding direction from Fudge to apply the Association punishment to me."

"That bloody-minded bastard."

"It's not something to concern yourself with, I simply wanted you to be forewarned."

Harry was fast becoming indignant. "Nothing to concern myself?! Of course I'm concerned! We never would have defeated him without your work."

Severus leaned into the table, reaching across to grasp one of Harry's widely gesticulating hands tightly. "Harry, the Aurors classified me as untouchable for that charge years ago. I'm considered a target that would be too costly to approach."

Harry calmed, but was still suspicious. "Is it because of me?"

The Potions Master met with the steady gaze with no hesitation. "Partially."

The younger wizard flinched at the honesty, but listened to the rest of the statement.

"First Dumbledore shielded me as well, and now my position as Headmaster protects me."

It could be blamed on his youth with the Dursleys, this insecurity. Truly, it was a miracle that Harry was as balanced as he was, considering his life so far. He still had the need to ask. "Is this why you stayed with me?"

Severus' features eased into one of his rare smiles. "By no means. I am capable of it, but I would not use you in that manner."

Harry exhaled the nervous breath he'd been holding before grinning crookedly at his lover. "Want to pad my celebrity ego and tell me why then?"

Severus rolled his eyes, but consented. "You did not arrive in my life fully labeled and I found myself addicted before I could cease contact."

The younger man smiled at the awkward and so very Snape compliment.

+++++++++++

The Monday of the memorial opened to a sky that was dreary, gray and prone to drizzle. All throughout the weekend, guests had been flooding into Hogsmeade. The increased traffic, with the rain that had only just tapered off, had churned much of the village grounds to mud.

Only a select few of the guests were being housed in Hogwarts. As most could Apparate, Portkey, or Floo in, it was still relatively quiet. Respect for the memory of the great wizard they had lost was holding most of the annoyances at bay. Fudge, an unexpectedly early arrival, was glad-handing with the public.

Harry spotted just about every Order member mingling on the grounds from his perch on the main front steps. His simple black robes were clinging damply to his arms. Paying no attention to the faint discomfort, he allowed himself to be seen as people moved about.

So far, he had yet to spot anyone who appeared to be distinctly out of place. But as they weren't dealing with a Muggle but a squib, their quarry would be harder to find… if their suspicions were even accurate.

Severus paused at the top of the stairs, silently observing his lover's distraction. From the set of the younger wizard's shoulders, he could tell the distraction was only a ruse. He frowned with some concern before gesturing with his wand.

A spray of sparkling lights representing each of the four houses of the school danced in the air. The silent signal caused the milling guests to turn and begin their way into the castle.

Harry stood, stepping onto and over the granite balustrade. His feet dropped lightly to the soft ground and he nodded to those who had begun their ascent of the staircase. He was incredibly grateful that the solemnity of the event would spare him the majority of the usual journalistic fervor.

Afterwards, he thought with a scant grimace, that would likely change.

+++++++++++

The pair of figures stepped out of a Hogsmeade alley, drawing their cloaks closer against the damp. Their mutters of 'Impervious' or manner of dress drew little attention as all the others present also fought the persistent damp.

They moved with the groups of wizards and witches towards the gates of the castle. As they drew close to the boundaries of the wards, the taller of the pair stilled with a muttered profanity.

"Language." The voice that spoke was not immediately identifiable. It had a sort of raspy harshness that set it apart but was clearly masculine.

The figure that had cursed turned, the cloak flaring just enough to identify him also as a man. "Did you know about the anti-glamour ward?" A barest pause. "Stupid question, of course you knew."

A chuckle came in that masculine rasp and the shorter man stepped forward to grasp his companion's shoulder. Even without their faces and definite forms, it was obvious reassurance from older to younger. He had turned slightly to speak to him in such a way as to not be overheard.

"It won't be a problem. Keep your hood up and we'll be fine."

They preceded through the gates, the two men walking slowly and allowing others to pass by them.

"You shouldn't have come." The first, taller man sounded worried. The second responded quietly.

"There was no choice in it."

"Still, I'll be happy when this is over."

"So will we all…"

They watched as the sparkling lights beckoned the crowd inside to begin the memorial.

+++++++++++

The Auror that had been redirecting guests from the originally scheduled Quidditch pitch to the Great Hall approached Harry where he stood silent in the shadow of the castle. Her plethora of miniscule braids were a rainbow of colors, a more fitting remembrance of the eccentric Albus Dumbledore than the solemnity inside.

"That's everyone. Anyone late will be able to see it was moved inside due to the rain."

Harry nodded faintly, his attention not on the woman. "Thanks, Tonks."

Her attention was drawn back and slightly to the side, some Auror instinct drawing her to seek out the cause of the younger man's distraction.

"Damn and blast."

As she caught sight of the two cloaked figures nearer the Whomping Willow than their position, her hand went automatically for her wand. Harry reached out, stilling her action. She met his eyes, only to have him raise his own wand - on her.

"Stupefy."

Tonks crumbled to the ground, Harry guiding her collapse. His soft words were an explanation unheard in her current state.

"Sorry about that. They only want me."

There was no hesitation as Harry walked away from the castle and potential backup to meet his foes alone.

+++++++++++

Just beyond the reach of the thrashing branches, the two black-cloaked men stood side by side. The taller shook his head when he saw the telltale red light of the spell.

"Such a Gryffindor."

The shorter man snorted. "Yes, that action was foolhardy."

They waited together as the figure of Harry Potter approached them across the grounds. "Uhhh…" There was a touch of nervous anxiety in the clear, younger voice.

"Not yet." The older man's voice echoed with surety. "We'll know when to act."

+++++++++++

Harry kept his eyes on the pair, wand out and ready at his side. There was neither delay nor urgency in his steady progress. It was perhaps arrogant, but he had no fear of a Muggle opponent.

He'd drawn close enough to realize the pair didn't feel right, even if he still couldn't see beneath their hoods. To his magic, they didn't feel like either Muggles or squibs - they felt like wizards.

Confused, his singular focus waned and he became aware of a rushing noise in the underbrush to his left. A figure came out of the brush, hidden until the last instant by camouflaged clothing and the lack of a magical impression.

"Petrificus Totallus."

His ready wand and quick spellwork dropped the opponent before they were too close. Unfortunately, his recovery wasn't fast enough to drop the second that had hidden in the first's wake of movement.

+++++++++++

Severus finished his comments, ceding the podium to the Minister of Magic. Anyone could see that it irked Fudge that a former Death Eater, spy or not, had spoken before him. But not even the self-important bureaucrat would break the tradition of the Headmaster's seniority. Especially not after his High Inquisitor attempt a few years back had turned into such a disaster.

The Potions Master scanned the persons in the Great Hall, stepping to the far edge of the dais on which the staff table was usually set. As he looked, tuning out what would surely be a lengthy speech from Fudge, he did not see either of the two heads for which he was looking.

He sidled up to the Defense professor and whispered quietly, "Neither Tonks nor Harry have entered. I'm going to check on them."

Remus' gaze shifted to show his concern. "Do you want backup?"

"I will signal if it becomes necessary."

At the subtle nod, the Headmaster slipped through the side door and hurried with his graceful stalk towards the main entrance doors. He nodded to the Order members standing outside the doors to the Great Hall, but passed no one else.

At the entrance, his eyes immediately caught the tarnished splay of colors at the base of the stairs. While he hurried to Tonks' side, his cautious scan of the grounds revealed a long figure walking towards others. As his mind supplied the likely cause of the change in plan and he revived the stupefied Auror, his mumble revealed the depth of his worry.

"Impulsive, self-sacrificing, Gryffindor brat."

Tonks returned to consciousness with a gasp of, "Harry!"

Snape snarled his impatience. "Yes, I know. Get backup. I'm going after him."

The Headmaster waited only long enough to make sure the young Auror had a sure foot in her ascent of the staircase. Then, turning, he caught sight of his lover being accosted by further opponents from the brush.

Fearing, Severus Snape began to run.

+++++++++++

The second of the camouflaged figures smacked at Harry's wand hand. The impact sent the piece of holly flying into the bushes. Harry pivoted, facing his crouched attacker. He kept a wary watch on the black-cloaked figures, but as they were moving neither to help with the threat nor to hinder his defense, they were not an immediate priority.

The metallic click of a switchblade drew Harry's full attention to his attacker. The clearly Muggle form of attack, combined with the odd rocking of someone looking for an opening, made Harry grimace.

"Antoine Filch, I presume?"

He received only a sneer in response and dodged the first calculated swipe. The second and third were evaded neatly, leaving Harry thankful for Quidditch honed reflexes.

+++++++++++

When the actual physical combat started, the taller of the cloaked figures made as if to move forward. He was stopped by a grasp on his arm and turned to his companion.

"We must stop this!" He hissed the words furiously, pulling his arm free.

The other didn't reply audibly, only shaking his head in the negative. It was obvious they disagreed, but the older man's dictate held for now.

+++++++++++

Harry could tell he had made a definite miscalculation. Without his wand, or the free moment to summon it back to his hand, his opponent had the definite advantage.

But then, his opponent knew this.

Harry had forgotten that he wasn't facing a Muggle. He wasn't even truly facing off with a squib. He was fighting a wizard who had been stripped of his powers. However significantly earned Harry's reputation as a war hero and powerful sorcerer, wizards did not typically engage in hand-to-hand combat without magic. And his opponent had received military training in how to wield his basic weapon for maximum effectiveness.

It was all Harry could do to dodge the attacks and wait for a chance to retrieve his wand. He had definitely rethought his decision to forego backup. But, as had happened before, he maintained his focus and trusted that he would get through the threatening situation.

And that focus was enough to sustain him - until he heard the Parseltongue comment from one of the cloaked figures.

Harry's head whipped around. The sound of someone speaking the language of snakes was startling enough to draw his immediate attention. It was all the opening his opponent needed as a slashing strike spread material to leave a seeping red gash on Harry's wand arm.

The sudden pain shocked the green-eyed wizard, drawing his gaze back to the immediate threat. He hopped backwards to avoid another strike, holding his arm tightly.

Inclement weather, combined with the damage their movements had already done to the terrain, had loosened earth and rocks. His footing uncertain, Harry slipped and stumbled until he was prone on his back.

Antoine Filch moved over him, striking rapidly. The first slash at the wizard's neck left a graze of crimson as Harry forced his head back into the mud.

Twisting, attempting to get away, the second, stabbing strike entered Harry's neck at an angle, piercing larynx, esophagus, and bringing a spray of arterial red.

+++++++++++

His taller companion tense with restrain, the shorter of the cloaked figures stepped forward. As the knife sank into the neck of the Man Who Defeated Voldemort, he raised his wand and spoke two simple words - "Avada Kedavra."

As the squib fell to the side, dead in the flash of green light, the shorter man dropped his wand next to the prone figure and ducked into the brush. The taller of the pair stepped forward, shoving the dead body aside roughly to administer to Harry Potter.

His mission was starkly clear at this point.

Casting a quick spell to place his patient into a medical stasis, he shrugged off the black cloak and began to lay out potion vials removed from the pockets of his navy-blue Auror robes. The bleeding was the most critical issue, but there were other injuries to address before the young wizard could be removed to the care of Madame Pomfrey.

Rapid footsteps were not enough to draw the Auror's attention upwards as he spelled the bleeding to slow, then stop. The stasis spell kept the patient unconscious, a mercy, as the man knew from personal experience that having injuries of this severity healed could rival the Cruciatus in pain level.

He finally looked up to see the Headmaster, with wand drawn on him, when Snape's familiar voice growled out, "Get away from him."

"I can't do that," was his calm response in flawless Romany.

Snape froze, staring at the younger man. He recognized this face. He'd spent countless hours in the last three years obsessing with jealousy and ire over the speculation of his and Harry's relationship. Confused, he detached his emotion to observe and provide him with an answer to this complicated puzzle.

But, something was off.

This man couldn't be twenty - he appeared far closer to Severus' own age. The light glinted off the dull silver of a Paradox insignia on the lapel of the Auror's robes. It was with far more desperation than malice that the Headmaster inquired, "Who are you?"

It was the familiarity of the crooked grin, the flash of pure jade eyes, and the similarity of the accented Romany to his own, more than the words, that convinced him.

"I think you've already figured that out, Father."

Severus stepped back as the man began to work again to save the life of Harry Potter. His foot slid in the mud, dropping him to his rear on the cold ground with legs splayed but wand still steady on the Auror. Distantly, he recognized his condition as shock engendered by the harm to his mate and the obvious - impossible - identity of the Unspeakable that had been keeping Harry alive.

There was no capability for resistance in his muscles when an arm reached around him to remove his wand. It was tucked into his pocket with deftness as he was enfolded in a known embrace and spoken to by a voice at once familiar and different.

"It's going to be okay, Severus. Just don't hex our son."

The Headmaster would have denied that his heavy breath bore any resemblance to a gasping sob. His eyes traced the too wide lines of the red puddle beneath his lover. Gently, his hair was smoothed back.

"Breathe, Severus. I'm going to be okay. Watch his hands, he knows what he's doing. Look at the handwriting on the vials. You'd make only the best to save my life."

Mentally, Severus scathingly derided the hesitation in his own voice.

"Harry?"

That loving embraced only tightened. "Yes, Severus. We make it through this. Though you might want to hurry up with that potion. We only have the one child and I'm supposed to have him while I'm still young."

The snort of humor caught in Severus' throat, leaving him to whisper, "Brat."

"Always, but only yours."

The Auror stood, putting away his empty accouterment and interrupting the slightly awkward conversation. "You're stable, time to go."

The Headmaster was released and as the figure moved around him he could see his lover and mate - mature, assured, and comfortable in his age. The two men, father and son as they would be, disappeared in the grasp of a Portkey.

Severus recovered himself enough if not to help then at least not to hinder as the Order began to arrive. He could recognize that his answers were disjointed, leading the others to stop asking questions.

Poppy would have her hands full with Harry. The dead and the petrified attackers would have to be reported to the Ministry.

And Severus?

Well, he would need to make the adjustment after this very odd shift in his worldview.

+++++++++++

"The train is ten minutes out."

The unexpected voice brought the Headmaster's attention away from the rolls of parchment on his desk. When he saw that the speaker was his betrothed, he moved out of his seat to approach the younger man.

"Poppy informed me that you would not be released until tomorrow."

Harry smiled. Pain and exhaustion were both visible in his features. "I was persuasive."

Severus hmmed in response as he gently kissed his lover. When the soft touch had ended, Harry laid his head on the taller man's chest with a sigh. The Headmaster took comfort in running his fingers through the jumbled lengths of black hair. His remark, when it came, was in a deceptively casual tone.

"I could have lost you."

Harry seemed to almost press in further to the solid warmth. "What I did was stupid. I am so sorry, Severus."

Severus continued to caress his mate in silence. After a few moments, he drew the younger man back behind his desk. The Headmaster settled in his chair, drawing his lover to curl into his lap.

Harry flicked at the parchments on which Severus had been working when he'd entered.

"Headmaster stuff?"

Normally, that would have been the perfect opening for a snarky remark regarding Harry's erudite vocabulary. Four days of insecurity and anxiety, however, had temporarily removed his desire to verbally spar with the younger man.

"No. That is our contract."

Harry chuckled, cutting the sound off with a whimper as his still tender vocal cords objected to his enthusiasm. When he spoke, it was a bare whisper.

"How long is it up to now?"

"Nine feet."

"Sometimes I envy Ron and Hermione. Their entire contract was six inches."

Harry began to cough, his body tensing at the pain.

"Is there nothing else Poppy can do?"

As the spasm passed, Harry eased back onto the black-clad shoulder. "Not without growing an entirely new larynx. I can end up sounding like myself but slightly different, or I could take my chances with new vocal cords."

"And you chose to remain as you are?"

Harry seemed rather embarrassed to be making the admission when he responded, "Every time I've done something reckless, the reminders eventually fade. This, I'll have always…"

Severus couldn't help the frown that crossed his face. "You should not feel obliged to punish yourself."

"I'm not. There's also the truth that it makes me sound less young. Hoarse, but less young."

Severus smirked into the messy hair. "You are young."

"I've never been young - not really."

Although he initiated the morose mood, Harry chose to change the subject. He gestured again at the parchments as he asked, "What did we miss this time?"

"Children."

Harry paused, pulling back from the cuddle to meet Severus' eyes.

"What made you think of that?"

The piercing obsidian gaze was steady. "I met our son."

With Harry in the infirmary for most of the last four days and unconscious a good deal of that time, they had not really had the chance to broach the topic. Harry searched for some detail indicating how his lover felt.

"I thought I heard him speaking out there. It was the Parseltongue that distracted me."

When Severus merely hmmed in acknowledgement that he'd spoken, neither a noise of agreement nor dissent, Harry grew worried.

"Severus? Does the idea upset you?"

The façade melted as pleasant humor crept onto the formerly still face.

"That you would bear my child? By no means."

"Then what is it?"

"You chastised me to complete the potions work before you grew much older."

"The modification of the Polyjuice potion?"

Severus nodded. "When I reported that you killed your attacker, I did not shade the truth. I thought it best not to reveal the exact terms of how you did so or reveal their presence."

Harry understood that the 'their' could only refer to his future self and his son. Severus spoke again, asking a question that had obviously been percolating in his head.

"You knew in your seventh year, didn't you?"

"Know what?"

"That the exchange student was our son."

Harry nodded. "Yes. I don't think I would have had the courage to start this thing between us if I hadn't known him then."

Severus chuckled darkly. "I hated him due to such jealousy… Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to think that was why I stayed."

Severus caressed his lover's cheek with a hand indelibly stained by his career. "You are far too true a Gryffindor to practice such deceit on me."

Harry smiled, leaning into the touch. "Does knowing about him make it easier to fill in the contract clauses?" He was smiling his irrepressible, impish grin.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "That does depend. What do we name him?"

"Septimius James Nathaniel Potter-Snape."

"Yes, then. It also resolves our naming clause as well."

"How so?"

"You would be within your rights to insist that I take your name fully. It is gratifying that we would combine them, neither subsuming the other."

Harry gave a soft murmur of agreement before cuddling back into his lover's shoulder.

"Then you like the name?"

"Indeed. It will be an honor for our heir to bear a Snape family name such as Septimius."

"But we're going to call him James."

Severus froze and Harry simply waited through the compulsive clenching of the Headmaster's jaw.

"In consideration of the other contractual concessions to which you have already agreed, that is not an unreasonable request."

Harry chuckled. "That was neither a yes or a no, my very Slytherin love."

Severus grumbled unintelligibly for a moment. "Though I'm certain that I'll regret it eventually, we can call him James."

Harry straightened, his smile pure joy. "Thank you."

They kissed, the shared movement of lips and tongues quickly growing passionate. A soft chiming echoed in the office, breaking them apart. Severus was able to relieve the perplexed expression on Harry's face.

"The Express has arrived at the station."

The younger man smirked. "So when will we be getting started on our little Potter-Snape?"

Severus leaned in, breathing suggestively into his mate's ear. Harry's eyes crossed, causing him to have to regain his focus before understanding the older man's words.

"When we are legal. Our heir will not be burdened with the appellation of bastard."

Harry pouted, but ceased playing when he was drawn to his feet and escorted to the door.

"Hurry now, there are fresh children to terrorize."

Laughing at the Headmaster's words, Harry preceded him from the office. He didn't notice as Severus looked back, meeting the eyes of Dumbledore's portrait and returning the wink.

Finis

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