Seventh year

When Harry returned for his seventh year at Hogwarts, he wasn't really sure what was occurring. Dumbledore, who at times could be seen as quite stable and others as madder than a hatter, seemed to be giving him unusually considering looks.

Passing the entire occurrence off to the existence of the emergency Portkey he'd been given at the start of the summer, Harry joined Ron and Hermione in their seats at the Gryffindor table for the sorting.

As he passed, a few of his classmates noted his new look. Over the summer, he'd allowed his messy black hair to grow out. Now that it wasn't cropped short, it stayed in place. That place being a ponytail tied off at the nape of his neck. This, combined with his time outside and heavy tan, made him seem a lot less the neglected orphan and more the secure young man of seventeen that he was now.

Dumbledore had stopped him at the platform for the Hogwarts Express, just before he boarded to return to the Dursleys for the summer holidays.

"Harry."

The voice came from behind and Harry waved Ron and Hermione on to find a seating compartment as he stopped to speak with Dumbledore.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore held out a small ring, and Harry took it with some confusion.

"It is a Portkey, Harry. While I know you still distrust such things, I made this for you personally. Should there be any problems with Voldemort this summer, speak the phrase and it will return you to my office."

Harry looked at the small ring and tried it on. It nestled quick securely at the base of his right pinkie finger.

"Thank you, Headmaster. What's the activation phrase?"

Dumbledore smiled, his expression clearly hinting that he knew things Harry would only find out later. "Love shall save me."

Harry nodded; it was appropriate. Love and loyalty had kept him alive this long. "Thank you. I'll keep it on at all times."

With a pat on the shoulder, Harry was released to the train and he'd joined his friends.

Focusing on those same friends now, those friends who seemed to be trying to get his attention, Harry pulled his mind to the present.

"It's our last year and I still don't know what I want to do professionally!" Hermione's complaint, first uttered in the station before they'd boarded the Express, was likely to be heard many, many more times before the year ended.

Ron and Harry had simply smirked at each other and watched as the scenery rolled past the window. Harry absently played with the ring, which was still on his hand, twisting it as he'd done many a time.

"I still say I've seen that ring before, Harry." Hermione had first said this on the trip home last year, and Ron rolled his eyes. Harry decided to give her another chance to tell him where.

"Okay, Hermione, take a good look and tell me where." Harry held out his hand, not taking the ring off, but letting her look at it. It was simply a geometric design, one twisted into a circle with no start and end. The silver ring looked vaguely Celtic in origin.

Hermione sighed. "I still can't remember who, but I know I saw a teacher wearing one just like it."

Ron spoke up. "Well, of course, Hermione. This can't be the first Dumbledore's made to keep someone safe."

They settled into easy conversation for the long trip back to school, the worries of a too quiet summer and the surely tumultuous school year ahead drifting away for the moment.

As Harry settled into his seat for the sorting, he noticed that the Professors seemed even more stressed than usual. Dumbledore and McGonagall were starting to look their ages; Snape was glaring at him. Wait… Snape was looking at him with something akin to absolute horror.

Harry nudged the redhead next to him. "Ron… What's up with Snape?"

Ron off-handedly remarked. "Who cares about the slimy git." He quickly looked over to the teacher's table at Hermione's exclamation of disgust.

"Oi, Harry, he's not glaring at you… He looks… I don't know, he looks like he's just been told Trelawney's his sister."

Harry laughed at the joke, but still didn't understand why Snape seemed to be so off center. Usually the man kept his expressions reserved, all reaction hidden.

Noticing Harry's return gaze, Snape flushed pink… That could hardly have been more a surprise than the fact that the Potions Master then got up from the staff table and left the Great Hall.

Harry noted McGonagall sharp glance at Snape's retreating back. But then he saw Dumbledore. The Headmaster had looked from Snape to Harry, shook his head slightly, and laid a restraining arm to prevent his Deputy from following the retreating Professor. The Headmaster looked almost sad.

Not really wanting this much confusion when the school year hadn't even started yet, Harry turned his attentions to his friends and ignored the possibilities occurring around him.

Snape had retreated not to his classroom or office, but to his private quarters. When he'd left the Great Hall, all he could focus on was the appearance of that spoiled brat. It wasn't right. There had to be some mistake.

His determined pace and fearsome expression was lost on the empty corridors as he quickly moved through them. Once in his private rooms, he went immediately to his bedside table. There, locked inside the upper drawer, was all that remained to him of the only person he'd ever loved. Harold James. Remembering the name caused him to pause.

"No, Dear Merlin, No," he muttered quietly, whispering the spells which would unlock the drawer.

His prayers unheard, the truth inside the drawer could not be ignored. The silver ring… The one on which they'd based so many promises, the one he wore when memory haunted him dearly. The small treasures from their times together. He dug past these all, needing to know if his memory recalled the face of his young lover clearly.

There, at the bottom, he pulled free a wizarding photograph. It had been taken barely a week before his love had left him. A young Severus Snape, smiling in a manner he couldn't ever remember crossing his face, arms linked around another young man of seventeen. That other young man smiled out to the camera as well, then they would turn to face each other sharing a kiss before smiling back out at the world.

Through the jaded eyes of someone twice the age of his self in the photograph, Snape examined the detail. What he found caused him to slide down until he was sitting, leaning against his bed. He dug the heels of his hands into his head and tried to force the impending migraine away from him. But no physical action would spare him the evidence smiling up at him.

He couldn't accept it. The young man in the picture could not be Potter. It was not possible.

The empty corridors echoed the scream of outrage and pain that streamed forth from the otherwise silent dungeon walls. In the Great Hall, the sound broke in faintly just at that silent moment in time before a first year approached the Sorting Hat. The girl stumbled, obviously surprised and scared.

McGonagall gestured the girl forward and looked to Dumbledore. The Headmaster merely shook his head as if he was carrying some weighty thought and motioned for the process to continue.

Among the students, there was curiosity and quite a bit of silence in contrast to the murmured wonderings.

Harry leaned over to his best friend, Ronald Weasley. "Did that sound like Snape to you?"

The shrug was all he got in answer as the sorting continued.

^^^^^^^

The Attack

Ron leaned back and watched Hermione talking to a group of first years about the lake and the squid. "I love it when term starts so close to a weekend."

Harry smiled at his friend and didn't budge from where he was sprawled on the grass. They hadn't been talking much, just laying about and enjoying the sun. Down by the lake was safely within the Hogwarts wards, but outside enough to lend a feeling of freedom.

Ron looked past his girlfriend and the first years to the sky beyond the lake. "Hey, Harry? What's that?"

Harry's gaze followed his friend's pointing finger to a dark blur in the sky.

"Maybe a cloud?" His guess was quick, but he sat up and looked closer after a moment. "It's moving fast, Ron, I don't think it's a cloud."

Ron looked to Harry and then they both jumped to their feet. Ron raced for Hermione, yelling at her to get the first years inside. Harry stayed in his spot, watching the dark blur move up on the castle far too quick to be natural. A moving shape at the edge of the forest caused him to turn, spotting a Dementor moving out from the woods.

"Ron!" The yell got his friend's attention. "We're under attack!"

Ron looked to the woods, what were now clearly figures on brooms in the sky, then helped Hermione chase the younger years into the castle. They were yelling for the Professors and a few responded, moving to positions on the castle steps.

Harry pulled his wand, ready for this. He'd known it had been too quiet. "Accio Firebolt!" His spell would take awhile to become totally effective and he began to move closer to the castle, trying to keep an eye on all possible enemies.

The attack moved onto them far faster than anyone had expected. Dementors, a group that appeared to contain fifteen to twenty, were moving from the forest. The figures on brooms had solidified to clearly be Death Eaters. It could be a scouting attack, a revenge attack, maybe simple harassment from their enemies. It wasn't a full assault with only ten Death Eaters.

But it was enough.

Harry joined the teachers in casting Expecto Patronum towards the Dementors, watching with satisfaction as his Prongs Patronus ran down and tormented the creatures. Spotting his broom racing towards him, over the heads of the others, he caught it from the air and flung himself on.

It wasn't a brave act, simply a tactical one. Harry knew he was a talented flier and likely better able to avoid mounted Death Eaters in the air, rather than on the ground. He raced through the air, dodging curses. On the ground, the teachers, with those seventh years who had come out of the castle, managed to knock at least one Death Eater from their broom to land on the ground with a sharp crunch.

As he raced over the water, he watched the squid beneath reach up and pull the Death Eater who'd been following him from the air. Two down, eight to go.

He made a sharp turn and started back towards the castle. What he hadn't expected was the sharp gust of wind, likely spell caused, which pushed him just into the reach of the Whomping Willow. The flailing limb struck the tail end of his broom, flinging him to the ground in a bruising dismount.

Harry rolled, moving himself out of reach of further limbs, and leapt to his feet to run. The Death Eaters had managed to get him isolated from the others. As vines leapt from the earth to impede his progress, Harry cursed. At least they didn't know about his portkey.

He heard the faint exclamation of "Avada Kedavra" from behind him and turned to see a Death Eater unleashing that deadly green light. As it rushed towards him, silent death, he concentrated on the ring on his hand.

"Love shall save me." That familiar jerking sensation from behind his navel took hold and the grounds of Hogwarts disappeared in a cocoon of green light and nausea.

From closer to the castle, the teachers and students watched in horror as The Boy Who Lived was engulfed in green light. Rather than crushing their spirit, the sight angered them beyond imagining. Resistance built and continued until the last of the Dementors was destroyed and the Death Eaters either killed, captured, or retreated.

Several of the teachers restrained the students and coordinated cleanup efforts. They watched, trying to hide their concern, as the Headmaster moved towards the Whomping Willow and the last known location of Harry Potter.

The Headmaster reached the spot and surveyed the ground. The Killing Curse destroyed the soul, shattered it into bits, but left the body unmarked.

However, there was no body.

He sighed and looked around himself before turning back to the castle. That he approached alone concerned many. That he did not seem sorrowful gave faint hope. His path was unimpeded as he proceeded to his office, needing to know if the portkey had worked properly.

Dumbledore's assumptions were solidified when no waiting student was in his office and nothing had been disturbed. The full circle had finally been completed.

He looked up just as the door slammed open and a wrathful figure in black entered.

"Well?" The question seemed both demanding and concerned from his Potions Master.

"Harry Potter is not dead," Albus answered with a small smile. "Lemon Drop?"

The offered tin was ignored as Snape stalked over to the desk. "I think I've been played for a fool for long enough, Albus. Tell me what is going on."

"Do you know what happens when you combine the magical energy of an Unforgivable Curse with the vortex of a portkey?"

Snape hadn't been expecting the question, and pulled back slightly confused. "No one would be insane enough to test such a thing."

Dumbledore smiled. "I didn't know either until a boy appeared in my office almost twenty years ago."

His suspicions confirmed, Snape blanched and seated himself before he fell over. "Harold James was Harry Potter."

A small nod from his mentor. "Yes, and if you'll excuse me, I must owl him… He can return now with no threat of paradox."

Snape looked perplexed. "What do you mean, return? Surely if they were the same person, you found some way to return him back then to now?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Alas, there was no way. But he could not remain in the wizarding world due to the paradox caused by his presence. He has been traveling, training these long years, waiting for his time to return. It wouldn't surprise me if he were already on the way. He did, after all, know the circumstances of his original departure."

The Potions Master looked like he might just have a heart attack, right there across from the Headmaster's desk. "He's been available all this time and you did not tell me?"

There was a contained fury in the question, and prior to an answer being given, the youngest of the Professors flung himself from the chair and stalked from the office.

Dumbledore answered the quiet room. "I could not tell you, Severus. As much as that choice pained both him and I."

^^^^^^^

The Problem

Harry groaned as his abused body dropped to the floor of the Headmaster's office from the height of a few feet. The impact exacerbated those bruises obtained when he'd been knocked off his broom. Considering the general nausea caused by the portkey and the overall soreness he thought might be the effect from the closeness of the Killing Curse, he was not a happy, or comfortable, young man.

He groaned again, forcing himself into a standing position. He was slightly startled when he looked up to find Dumbledore staring at him with a curious expression from his desk chair. Last he'd saw, the Headmaster was in front of the castle defending against the attack.

"Did we get them all?"

His question was met with confusion. "All what, young man?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore and then over to Fawkes on his perch. "The Death Eaters, Sir."

Dumbledore frowned. "I think you need to explain why you're in my office, young man. Along with who exactly you are."

Harry's eyes appeared to bulge slightly in his shocked expression. "Are you feeling okay, Headmaster?"

"I'm feeling rather fine today, though you appear a tad peaked."

The young man shrugged. "Doesn't hurt as bad as Cruciatus, I'll make it."

At this, the Headmaster looked a little shocked. "Perhaps you should sit down, I believe this explanation may take awhile."

Harry sat, still not knowing what was going on. Fawkes, sensing his distress, took flight and settled on his shoulder. Harry reached a hand across his body to lightly pet the phoenix's scarlet plumage.

"Always good to see you, Fawkes."

Dumbledore watched carefully, more comfortable with his decision not to pull his wand when the young man had appeared from thin air. "Have you met my phoenix before?"

Harry looked at his Headmaster with blatant confusion. "Sir… Maybe you should go to Madame Pomfrey."

The Headmaster chuckled. "We will both go, as soon as you've answered my questions."

"Headmaster, I'm Harry Potter."

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly. "Yes, I can see a resemblance to the Potter line… Are you a cousin? We have a James Potter in seventh year."

Harry shook slightly, an overall trembling. Something was very wrong. "Headmaster, you know my father's been dead for sixteen years."

The Headmaster's eyebrows rose and Harry had the isolated pleasure of truly surprising the older man. "What year is it for you, young man?"

"1997."

Dumbledore wrote a note on a scrap of paper and turned to Fawkes. "Take this to Poppy, please, Fawkes."

The phoenix took the paper carefully and then disappeared from the room. The older wizard turned to Harry. "I think you should tell me how you came to be here, in what is presumably your past."

Harry didn't even want to think about the connotations of being present in his own past. "The school was attacked. You had made an emergency portkey, keyed to your office and an activation phrase, at the end of my last school year. In the attack, a Death Eater cast the Killing Curse at me as I portkeyed away."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, that would cause an unpredictable reaction. It is not safe to use any magic in the vortex of a portkey. I imagine a lesser spell would cause a lesser effect."

Harry managed to control the slight trembling in his body. "What am I supposed to do? This could cause more paradox problems than that Time Turner almost did."

"You've used a Time Turner?" The question was stopped before it could be answered. "No, don't reply. It's best we limit the information you give me only to what I absolutely must know. I will research a way to send you home… For now, it may be best if you become a student here."

The younger man's eyebrows rose in incredulity. "A seventh year student in the same class with my parents and half the people I know as adults?"

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Yes. It may be difficult, but it would be the safest thing. An attack has recently destroyed a small wizarding school in Wales; we will claim you survived and have been transferred here. Enough of our students have lost family that no one will question you if you claim to be orphaned. What is your full name?"

"Harry James Potter, Sir."

"Then we will announce you as Harold James. The name should be close enough that you would be comfortable with it, yet not quite obvious enough to cause a problem."

Harry smiled, the opportunities involved were unreal. He could get to know his parents, have more time with his godfather, torment some of his own enemies on their own school boy level. Be sorted again… Wait, that was a concern.

"Will I be sorted? Won't the hat see that I've already been placed?"

"I will speak with the Sorting Hat before dinner tonight."

There was a knock on the door and Madame Pomfrey entered. The matron was the same to Harry, but twenty years younger.

"You needed me here, Albus?"

"Yes, Poppy, young Harold here is joining Hogwarts. I'd like you to take him to the hospital wing and give him a check over. He is the last of the students from the Welsh school."

Pomfrey nodded soberly. "Of course, Albus. Come along, Mr. James."

As Harry was handed off to her, he decided to make the best of this time. It might be the closest he ever came to a vacation in his young life. After all, here Voldemort was not explicitly trying to kill him.

Harry watched the faces in the halls as Madame Pomfrey escorted him to the infirmary. Most he did not recognize, some he did even in their younger versions.

Once ensconced in a bed, Pomfrey began to exclaim over her examination of him. "Merlin, child. What have you been up to?"

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You've had bones broken and re-grown, been hexed, and you're showing signs of Unforgivable curses." The nurse appeared indignant at these facts in a seventh year student.

Harry tried to think of an acceptable response. "Quidditch?" His answer was obviously not satisfying enough so he added on, "And the attack on the school was fairly bad."

Madame Pomfrey continued to fret about him as she healed the bruising and other injuries. "Now you just lay there and relax until dinner. The Headmaster will come fetch you when he's ready."

^^^^^^^

A few hours later, while Harry was dozing in his bed, the noise of the doors being thrown open awoke him. He looked to the end of the hall and noted with some shock who had entered.

It was Professor McGonagall, younger of course, and she had a Gryffindor student's ear twisted in her hand. It was the identity of that student which shocked him so… Sirius Black. Harry sat still for a moment, caught in the sight of his godfather who'd been dead for two years. It was only when the young man spoke that Harry noticed another student.

"He hexed me, why aren't you ripping his ear off?"

McGonagall twisted her hand slightly, causing Sirius to rise onto his toes. "Because I expect better of a Gryffindor than the behavior you exhibit, Mr. Black." She left her charge on a hospital bed, the unnamed hex to be treated by Madame Pomfrey and turned to the other student who had followed quietly.

Harry almost didn't recognize a young Severus Snape. After all, he'd seen Snape under the effects of curses in the aftermath of his work as a spy, but never with two black eyes and his nose obviously broken, swollen larger, for the innumerable time. McGonagall gestured him to a bed and stood, looking fierce. "Will either of you be telling me what happened?"

The young men stared back with blank faces, Sirius looking mulish, Severus having perfected his inscrutable expression long ago. Harry managed to restrain his laughter and lay back on the bed, quietly listening.

"Since neither of you wishes to speak up, you will both serve detention. Mr. Black, you will come straight to my office after being released. Mr. Snape, you will see Professor Archanum. I will inform him of the circumstances so that your Head of House will provide suitable discipline."

Still facing silence, McGonagall left the room and the two in Pomfrey's care.

When she sent them off a short while later, separately and their departures staggered, Harry still lay quietly on that bed. He had things to think about… What he was doing here… How he'd keep his true identity hidden… When he would get home… And, whether in the process he would accidentally cause a paradox so severe that it might give Tom Riddle the advantage.

^^^^^^^

A Belated Sorting

Just before the usual dinner hour, Dumbledore had come to the hospital wing to retrieve Harry. As they walked through the castle, heading for the Great Hall, the Headmaster provided a little more explanation. "The professors have consulted and agreed to provide you with a scholarship for this year, including all necessary equipment and clothing which will be delivered to your dormitory once you are sorted."

Harry could see the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye and shook his head at the falsehoods being created to cover him. He was used to having no money in the Muggle world, for now it was just true in the wizarding one as well.

"I want you to come to me directly if you have need of anything, Harold." The older wizard stopped him outside the doors to the Great Hall and looked at him carefully. "This will not be easy for you. You may come to my office at any time."

Harry nodded and followed the Headmaster silently into the Great Hall. The four student houses turned to look at him, having been given a brief version of the reasoning behind his presence by Professor McGonagall. Harry looked over the faces in the hall, guessing names. Looking at the staff table was odd, some of the teachers were there that he recognized, some were not. But, that was partially a relieving thing… After all, he wasn't supposed to know everyone and everything about Hogwarts.

Dumbledore stopped them both next to the stool where the Sorting Hat had been placed and turned to the Hall.

"Mr. James joins us after a great tragedy. Welcome him to Hogwarts and treat him well as he adjusts to our home."

Then, with a gesture to the stool, Harry approached. He lifted the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head after sitting down. The voice came to him shortly.

"So, Mr. Potter… Decided to have another go round, have you?"

Harry winced. "Did Dumbledore speak to you?"

"Oh, yes… He spoke with me… But what I find most curious is here in your head. You fought me on your last sorting, did you?"

Harry thought about his first sorting and blanched. It wouldn't.

"Please not Slytherin."

"This time you don't get your way, Mr. Potter."

And Harry felt the chill in his body as the voice moved from his head to yell to the hall, "SLYTHERIN!"

He sat for a moment, not moving, not taking the hat off. Finally, Dumbledore lifted the hat and looked at Harry, who was in shock. There was minimal reaction from the hall; polite clapping from Slytherin, booing from Gryffindor, but it wasn't the insanity of his first sorting.

Harry stood after a moment and stumbled to the Slytherin table. He sat, not noticing where, and focused on the food, trying to put something in his stomach. The others left him alone for most of the feast, until a tallish blonde approached him.

He had a slight sense of deja vu looking up at someone who was obviously Lucius Malfoy from his seated position.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Harold. My name is Lucius."

Harry shook the hand, not really knowing what else he could do. "Hi." The response was short, but he hasn't about to say what a pleasure it was to meet this man.

Lucius looked down at Harry for a moment and then his face hardened. "If you're going to survive in Slytherin, Harold, you'll want to remember that some of us are to be treated with respect." With that vaguely threatening comment, the young man turned to leave the hall.

Harry stood a few moments later and moved out of the hall. He knew where the Slytherin common room was, thanks to an adventure with Polyjuice potion in his second year, and that knowledge served him well now.

As he stepped from the doors of the hall, he heard a comment. One obviously pitched to carry to his ears, even if it would then seem accidental.

"At least now we know how he survived when no one else did."

Harry turned to see who was criticizing him and couldn't help but stare. Sirius Black approached him, Remus Lupin trailing after trying to stop him. "Sirius, don't… James…"

"James is too damn busy with his Head Girl to care, Remus." Sirius stepped up to Harry and looked at him with a sneer. "Watch your place, you damned dirty Slytherin."

Harry was still in shock when Remus pulled Sirius away. It was probably that lack of reaction, that shock at the treatment of his godfather, which saved him from a fight.

Minutes later, he stood outside the Slytherin common room staring in confusion at a painting of a Medusa.

"Password?" Her tone had sibilance, but wasn't quite Parseltongue. Harry was spared the embarrassment of not knowing the password, because he could hear it being hissed out by her twining hair.

He stated the password to the female figure, who scowled, but let him pass. As he stepped into the common room, he looked around and mentally compared it to the one he remembered. A different generation of Malfoy, but the room looked the same.

The Malfoy in question strode up to him angrily. "Who told you the password?"

The question stopped all noise and traffic in the room as the occupants turned to watch. Harry looked over the other students and strongly suspected that Lucius had told them to lock him out. He looked at the blonde young man and just smirked. He wasn't about to give away the secret of something that may turn out to be an asset.

The smirk did not make the expression on Lucius' face any more pleasant. "Just make sure you don't turn out to be a disgrace to the name of wizards. We already have one of those in this house." A pointed glance to the figure of Severus, reading quietly in a corner, and Lucius was gone again.

Harry sighed. This was definitely not what he'd been picturing. Ignoring the creeping thoughts on exactly why Malfoy the elder seemed to hate Snape, he went looking for his dorm room. He found it after a few moments searching, deciding not to ask for help from any of the students casting him paranoid looks.

Once inside, he flung himself into the poster bed and drew the curtains. Casting a variety of warding and defense spells, he slipped his wand under his pillow and dropped into a disturbed slumber.

^^^^^^^

Unexpected Friends/Enemies

If Harry had been asked to guess the first thing he'd have to deal with in the morning, he might have said something about trying to find a loo if no one would tell you where it was located. He certainly wouldn't have guessed that failure to put a silencing charm around his bed would cause him to wake up to the sound of someone being hit.

Pushing back the curtains, Harry rolled out of the bed, wand drawn and pointed. But at the scene before him, he was definitely confused. Lucius was repeatedly slapping Severus, who was being held in a kneeling position by two goonish students who may have been the elder Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry's shock was so deep that he couldn't help his exclamation of, "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Lucius paused in his abuse to look at the new arrival. "House discipline, Harold. Stay out of it."

Severus hadn't moved, or tried to resist, and Harry wondered why he was being held when he seemed to accept the punishment. But still, Harry wasn't the type to let someone be beaten unless they had a good reason to receive it. And despite his antipathy towards his future professor, he'd yet to see anything to justify this scene.

"Explain further, Malfoy."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Severus needs to be reminded of his place." The blonde man drew back his arm to deliver another strike when Harry interrupted.

"If that lands, I will make you regret it."

His wand hadn't wavered in the few moments he'd been standing there and Lucius' arm froze in its uplifted spot. He turned a cold look on Harry. Harry, however, was noticing the gaze of Snape, who was looking over at him. Harry recognized the look in the eyes… It was the same look he remembered from his own face any time the Weasleys had offered to get him out of Privet Drive. It was expectant hope, combined with the knowledge that reality didn't have such things in store for him.

Harry might despise his teacher, grudgingly respect his compatriot, and avoid that fellow human being like the plague, but this wasn't Snape… This young man, this lanky youth that was still shorter than Harry, was Severus. He wondered for a moment how the two had gotten separated in his mind so quickly. Focusing on Malfoy, he spoke clearly and precisely. "That's right, Malfoy, don't ever underestimate me."

Lucius turned from Severus to face Harry. He drew his wand slowly. "Do you want a duel, Harold?"

"I want you to stop, Malfoy."

Harry had barely finished the phrase when Lucius pointed his wand with intention and declared, "Imperio!" The gauzy pleasantry of the Imperius Curse crept over Harry's mind. Before it had fully grasped him, he was already fighting it. After all, when you've fought off Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy's teenage self was little comparison.

Disturbing the other boys, Harry started to laugh, clearly not under the control of the spell. The two goonish students stepped back, shocked. Severus continued to look at him silently, the expression containing just a little more respect for the idea that this new student may be someone worthy of alliance.

"I don't think so, Malfoy."

Lucius was developing two spots of red high on his cheeks. "Then he'd better hope that you will always be around to save the day."

Harry rolled his eyes… Was Lucius Malfoy walking around using the same phrases he'd thought up when he was seventeen? Playing along, Harry gave the same response he'd given to that line once before, wondering if Malfoy the elder would be getting his own case of deja vu someday because of it.

"Don't worry, I will be."

As Lucius and his cronies left the room, scowls aplenty on their faces, Harry turned to Severus who was trying to rise from the floor. He held out a hand that was grasped only long enough for the other youth to stand and then released.

"He will attack you again." The comment was offered as a warning, someone feeling out their place in things.

"I'm not afraid of Lucius Malfoy." Harry managed to restrain his humor at the very idea.

The young men studied each other for a moment and then shook hands.

"Severus Snape."

"Harold James."

Harry wasn't able to restrain his curiosity any longer than that, though. "Why was Malfoy hitting you?"

Severus flushed. "He does not approve of me."

That was all he said, however, before turning and digging into a trunk. Inside, Harry was not surprised to see a stock of potions vials that would rival Madame Pomfrey's collection. The young man selected several and downed them quickly. At his grimace, Harry spoke up; "Perhaps you should try to make them taste better."

Severus looked at him inquiringly before shaking off the implied compliment; "We are going to be late for class."

Harry shrugged and threw on his Slytherin insignia before following the other youth out of the dormitory and common room. Luckily he'd managed to acquire a guide, since he wasn't supposed to know anything about this school.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, and a slightly late breakfast, Harry's feet slowed at the sight of James Potter looking around as if searching for someone. Finally, the gaze focused on his own and his father approached him.

"Harold…" The call froze Harry on the spot and he waited for this confrontation. "Head Boy, James Potter."

Hesitantly, Harry shook his father's hand as the other man continued to speak in a slightly officious fashion. "Dumbledore asked me to give you your schedule and tell you where classes are located."

At a sharp intake of breath from beside him, Harry turned to look. Just what he needed, his apparently more prejudiced than he realized godfather was approaching.

"James… Why are you talking with this scum?"

James Potter shook his head. "Behave, Sirius, I have responsibilities."

Sirius just sneered, mocking the words with movements of his mouth, but stepped back. The threat was obvious in his eyes. Harry resolved to avoid his godfather whenever possible, and make sure Severus did as well. He had a whole new perspective on those school boy pranks he'd heard about in supposedly harmless stories.

Harry spoke up, "Thanks for the schedule, I can find my own classes." With a meaning-laden look, he nodded to Sirius. "Wouldn't want to cause any problems."

James looked to his friend and then to the newest student. "Whatever, Slytherin." Turning on their heels, the Gryffindors left down the corridor.

Severus' voice recalled Harry from his wishful thinking. "Are you suicidal, or truly that skilled?"

He turned to look at the other young man and frowned slightly. "I'm not going to be pushed around." He started to walk into the Great Hall, intending to get some food even if his stomach wanted to rebel. "And neither should you."

^^^^^^^

Problems in Class

Harry's first week of class wasn't going the way he intended it to go. Ignoring his personal problems in the form of Malfoy, and his father and godfather, he had class problems. Predictably, not in Defense Against the Dark Arts. No, in that class, unluckily doubled with Gryffindor, he excelled.

On the first day there, the teacher had decided to test him with a little duel. When he'd slapped the Professor around the room, heartily inspired by his rage at his housemates, the Professor had declared himself satisfied. From that point on, Harry had been designated to assist other students. This being something he'd enjoyed, after all the DA was twenty years in the future, Harry agreed.

Potions was a different situation entirely.

Harry stared into the melted remains of his fifth cauldron for that class period and scowled. Neville didn't even do this badly in class, from what he remembered.

Looking up into the disapproving face of Professor Archanum, who also happened to be his Head of House, Harry shrugged. "Sorry, Professor, I have no idea."

The Professor looked around the dungeon room at his other students. Harry quickly thought to himself that at least there was precedent for Snape's choice of teaching environment as the Professor spoke.

"Does anyone know what Mr. James did wrong?"

Severus looked at him with a slightly apologetic glance before raising his hand to answer. At the Professor's nod, he gave the correct answer. "He added the ingredients on a rotating count of eight, rather than ten."

Harry looked incredulously into his cauldron, not having any clue why that difference would cause this meltdown, but respecting the potions knowledge of his future professor.

The current professor nodded. "Five points to Slytherin, Mr. Snape. You and Mr. James will see me after class."

Harry was slightly confused at the smirking glances of the other Slytherins in his class and the muttered, "Trouble in paradise already, Harold," from Malfoy on his way out of the room at the end of class.

Their things packed away, Harry and Severus approached the Professor.

"Mr. James, despite the Headmaster's insistence, I cannot permit you to remain in my class unless you demonstrate improvement. All I can assume is that your previous Potions Master was incompetent."

Harry rose to the defense of his future professor. "No Sir, I've just never been good at potions."

The Professor looked at Severus. "That's fine, Mr. James. This is why I asked Mr. Snape to remain. He will tutor you, three times a week, until you are competent in this classroom. You may schedule additional practice, but it will be at least three times a week."

Harry nodded, not really minding this situation. After all, Severus wasn't that bad a person to be around. He was moody, sure, but, then again, Harry himself had been a raging jerk his fifth year. Severus waited to see Harry's reaction before showing any himself.

"Thank you, Professor. I'm sure that will help."

At the sincerity in Harry's voice, Severus smiled slightly. Harry couldn't help but wonder what turned this intense young man into the silent and grumpy bastard that he knew from before.

With departing words for the Professor, the two left the room and headed for their common room.

Severus seemed confused. "Why hadn't your Potions professor made sure you were competent before now?"

Harry couldn't help the wide grin on his face… Oh, this was a conversation he was writing down for the future, he thought, even if he never got the chance to taunt Snape with it.

"I don't know. He didn't like me much, slight grudge against my father."

Severus nodded in acknowledgement, even while his face showed dissatisfaction with the truth. "That is no excuse."

Harry's grin widened and he looked over at the young man who was fast becoming his best friend here. This was strange.

"Have you ever thought about teaching, Severus?"

The other man stopped and looked at him, suspicious. "Why do you ask?"

Harry seemed stunned at the sudden suspicion. The shock on his face at the sudden change in the tenor of their conversation caused Severus to relax. "I'm sorry… I would like to teach, but my father would not approve."

Curiosity flooding him, after all Snape was silent on most of his past. And, Harry had some suspicions after what he'd seen in the pensieve during his fifth year. "What's your family like?"

Severus looked around and then pulled Harry into an empty classroom. "Don't ask questions like that when anyone can hear you."

Harry was concerned. "Why?"

"I'm not particularly fond of my family. However, that is not something that I wish known as it could shorten my life span."

Knowledge came to Harry's eyes as he resolved what he knew, and what he was being told. "Your father's a…" He left the last word unsaid.

"Yes." The simple response was unemotional and detached. Severus waited silently for Harold's condemnation.

Harry reached a hand out and laid it on his friend's shoulder. "I don't judge people on their family, only on themselves."

Relief was clear on the other young man's face and the tension bled out of the room slowly. Harry couldn't help teasing at the silence. "But you still haven't told me what Lucius is holding against you."

Severus looked at Harold for a moment. "If you have not figured that out, then I will not tell you." He ended the conversation by turning and leaving the room.

Harry was stunned for a moment, and then jogged slightly to catch up. "Come on, Severus, just tell me."

There was only silence from his friend.

When they reached the common room, Severus disappeared into the dormitory and Harry settled himself in front of the fire. His peace was disturbed shortly after, with the approach of Malfoy.

"What now, Lucius?" Harry looked bored as he addressed Malfoy. He was learning quickly that survival, and comfort, in Slytherin house was largely based on pretense.

Lucius smiled and it was by no means amiable. "Is that any way to speak to a friend offering advice?"

Harry snorted at the word friend, but stayed silent to let his housemate speak. Which, after a short pause, he did.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm always willing to listen, should anything shock you."

Harry waited, slightly confused, for clarification, which did not seem to be forthcoming. Severus came back into the common room from the dormitory and approached on silent feet.

"Stop, Lucius." The words were not as assured as they could have been, but it was an attempt. Harry was struck with the thought that this may have been the first time Severus spoke against Malfoy to his face.

Lucius looked like he'd been handed a prize and turned to Severus. "What's the matter, Severus?"

Severus was rapidly gaining two spots of color, high on his cheekbones. He ignored the blonde man and turned to Harry. "Harold… We should start on that work for potions."

Harry was only too willing to leave the discomfort of the common room behind. "Uh, sure." He jumped up from his seat. "Library time." He waggled his fingers at Malfoy. "Later, Lucius."

Thankful for the excuse, a professor sanctioned one at that, the two left the common room with the sound of Malfoy's snickers fading in the background.

^^^^^^^

It's a Strange World

A week after the assigned additional tutoring for potions, Harry and Severus had covered everything they could have from a book. Harry was searching the library for any additional books that might be helpful and avoiding the Marauders who came in and out at odd times. He definitely did not expect to have to avoid the Marauders to this degree.

He looked up as Severus entered the library and sat across him with a disgruntled look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

Severus looked at Harold with a sharp glance; "You need laboratory practice. The Professor will not allow us access to his or the students, as he does not have the time to monitor our work. Guess what is wrong?"

Harry grinned. "You're just upset because you think I'll make you look bad."

An exaggerated eye roll was his first response, then, after a moment, "Fine, I admit it. But we still need access to a lab."

With a larger grin, Harry stood. "Then follow me, for I've discovered something."

Severus looked curious, but did follow. Harry led them on a winding path through the castle that was guaranteed to lose any followers. When they reached the third floor corridor, he stopped Severus to give instructions.

"Here's how this works. Focus in your mind on what you need in a lab, be specific."

As the young man settled into a clearly focused, detached expression, Harry had the bizarre urge to attack him with Legilimency. But that wouldn't be quite fair and despite his current sorting as a Slytherin, he was at heart a Gryffindor. He wasn't sure if Snape even was a Legilimens at this point. Clearing his own thoughts, he led them back and forth down the hallway three times, before opening the door to the Room of Requirement.

Severus stared in shock. The room, which at Harry's last use had been twenty years in the future and prepared for his DA meetings, was restructured into laboratory and classroom with attached sitting room. The lab was well-stocked, with hundreds of neatly labeled glass bottles and wooden boxes. There was a neatly stacked shelf of every bit of potions accoutrements Harry had ever seen, as well as two spacious tables. There also seemed to be a detached study table and then the sitting area. Two chairs in mahogany wood and black leather sat on either side of a low table with a short, matching couch just beyond.

Harry looked at Severus for a moment. "When I said specific, you really listened." He pulled the other young man into the room and closed the door behind them. "Not bad, Severus."

Severus looked at him. "I have never seen this room before and I've been at this school for seven years."

Harry shrugged. "I was doing some extra reading in the library. There was a book with information about a room that became what you needed." He focused on the room, dropping the explanation as to why he knew this was here. Severus still looked suspicious, but decided that studying the room was a better option.

A few minutes later, Harry decided that if he was going to be friends with Severus, he was going to use this opportunity to find out some information that he'd been curious about for years. Despite Ron's assertions, he knew that his friend wasn't a vampire. He'd seen him in the sun plenty of times, seen him work with garlic and holy water for potions for no problem. But there was still one thing that he was damnably curious about…

"Severus… Why does your hair always look like that?"

Only the gentle curiosity kept Severus from sniping at his friend, like his expression said he so clearly wanted to do at that moment.

"Why do you ask, Harold?" The question was cold, and Harry flinched, thinking he'd stepped over some line.

"I'm sorry if it upsets you, but I was just curious."

He could hear the sigh from across the room and then the answer. "My father disapproves of curly hair on men."

Harry felt his eyebrow raising. That was not the answer he'd expected. "Your hair is curly?"

"Ringlet curly, yes. No can we get some work done before Defense?"

Severus and Harry rushed into the Defense classroom, five minutes late. The Professor looked up from his lesson and surveyed the two who had dropped into chairs in the back.

"Ah, Mr. Snape, Mr. James. Thank you for volunteering."

They traded a look and then waited for the pronouncement that was sure to follow. "Since you were late, but not abominably so, you may choose your punishment. You may each either demonstrate for the class your strongest defensive spell, or you may lose fifteen points for your House."

Severus spoke up quickly, not wishing to demonstrate any of the spells he knew that would bring larger consequences. "Points, sir."

The Professor nodded. "Fifteen points from Slytherin, Mr. Snape. Mr. James?"

Harry looked at his Professor, then at the other students. He stood slowly, pulling his wand. "If you would move aside, Professor?" It was hard not to be just a little arrogant about this spell. They'd had a lesson earlier that week specifying that the Patronus spell was Auror level and would be taught to only those students who were accepted into training.

With an intensity of focus, he narrowed his gaze to the front of the room declaring, "Expecto Patronum!"

Watching the faces of his classmates and teacher, he didn't know who was more shocked when the fully formed stag Patronus issued forth from his wand. There definitely seemed to be a pale face or two among the Marauders at the vision. The Professor certainly was impressed. Severus raised an eyebrow at his friend, who winked in return.

Harry concentrated on his Patronus, who noticing that there was no danger in the room, turned to him and bowed before disappearing.

The Professor seemed to regain his vocal abilities. "Thank you, Mr. James. Quite impressive. Fifteen points to Slytherin."

Harry dropped into his seat and watched as the lesson continued. He knew most of what the lectures covered and was finding it more difficult to pay close attention these days. He probably should speak to the Headmaster before demonstrating those talents in the future.

At class end, Harry felt a hand on his elbow, with which Severus was urging him along. The other young man pulled him to the side of the corridor to mutter quietly, "How did you do that?"

Harry flushed slightly; "I was showing off, sorry… I've been able to conjure a Patronus for four years."

"Four years?!" The mutter was harsh. "That's not possible!"

"Look, Severus, I'm sorry. I had to learn how to do it several years ago. There were Dementors and I kept hearing my parents die." As his voice trailed off, his friend seemed less angry and more understanding.

The Marauders interrupted the moment. "If it isn't little Snivellus and his new bodyguard."

Harry sighed, why oh why was a seventeen-year-old Sirius Black such a pain. Was it too much to ask that he be able to get happy memories about his dead godfather? He turned. "What's the matter now?"

James looked at the two and then added, "Nice show in class…" Harry was impressed when that was the only comment before the level headed one and his girlfriend departed down the corridor.

Expecting restraint from the others was too much. Sirius spoke back up as his restrainer moved down the hall. "Or is he your bodyguard, Harold? I'm sure he's enjoying the idea." And with that snide remark, the others departed.

Harry turned, gritting his teeth. Severus' expression was shuttered again. Harry wasn't stupid, something was going on. The students knew something he didn't and he was tired of it. But he didn't want to talk then.

"Look, I have to see the Headmaster. Tonight, the Room."

At his friend's nod, Harry moved off down the corridor towards the Headmaster's office.

Harry stopped in front of the griffin and started to list off wizarding candies he could remember. The problem was that he wasn't sure which had been invented yet, so he was stuck whispering them and looking around. It was rather a suspicious looking situation.

After about five minutes had passed, Harry heard a throat being cleared behind him. He turned to see Professor McGonagall looking at him expectantly.

"Is there a problem, Mr. James?"

"No, Professor. I simply need to speak with the Headmaster."

She raised an eyebrow and Harry reminded himself to chastise his future professor. While she would complain that Snape treated the Gryffindors poorly, she had hardly a moment to spare for him as a Slytherin. Odd, considering he was her Gryffindor golden boy in the future.

"Then let us speak with the Headmaster."

She spoke the password, lower than he could hear it, and accompanied him up the stairs. The obvious lack of trust brought a frustrated look to his face.

When they entered, Dumbledore looked up from his desk. "Ah, Mr. James… I've been expecting you. A fully corporeal Patronus, quite an impressive feat."

Professor McGonagall looked shocked and Harry blushed. "That was what I wanted to talk about, Sir."

"A Patronus, Albus? Surely you must be mistaken."

Harry rolled his eyes; "I've been capable of a Patronus for four years, Professor."

She gave him a look that said she obviously thought he was lying and then addressed the Headmaster, "I'll leave him to you, Albus."

After she'd left the room, Harry settled into a chair across from the Headmaster.

"What was your concern, Harry?"

A few moments of fidgeting, then. "Should I be hiding how much I know?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "No, young Harry, I think not. Admit to your talents, as long as you admit to your weaknesses."

Harry grinned. "How's the work going on sending me home?"

The Headmaster's face dimmed. "I am still researching. I do not know if it will be possible to send you home."

His chest felt tight as Harry responded, "If I stay, eventually I'll cause a paradox even if I don't mean to."

Dumbledore nodded. "I am considering all your options. We will discuss them when I am certain of my findings."

Harry nodded, not able to speak a socially acceptable answer and feeling in the mood to trash the Headmaster's office in a spate of fury. "Yes sir." He sat in silence for a moment; "I'll just be going then."

As the Headmaster waved him from the office, Harry remained quiet. The older wizard watched his retreating back for a moment, his thoughts busy. He thought for a moment that it was likely the world asked much more of that child than it had any right. And it grieved him that he was likely one of the people placing those demands.

^^^^^^^

You're What?

Harry had wandered the school for a few hours, not wishing to return to the common room and play Slytherin games, or even speak to the rest of the school.

He disappeared downstairs for a bit, raiding food from the kitchens. Once he had a packet for himself, and perhaps some to share later, he sought refuge in the Room of Requirement. That was where Severus found him later, sprawled belly down on the short couch, nibbling at a biscuit and reading one of his textbooks as he hung his head over the side.

Harry looked up as his friend entered, relaxed from his time alone. When Severus stepped into the light, his expression darkened with anger. There on his friend's face, on the friend he'd promised to protect, was an obvious black eye. He raised from the couch in a smooth, rolling movement and inspected his friend up close, Severus still silent.

"Who did it?" His voice was harsh and low, filled with the promise of retribution.

Severus looked at him oddly at the possessive tone and then spoke quietly, "I hit Lucius first."

The response was enough of a surprise to make Harry step back. "Not that I haven't wanted to, but why?"

"I grew tired of his snide comments. I hit him, he hit me back. I may have a black eye, but I can brew a potion to fix that from here." Severus smirked. "As for he… He will have to suffer with his two black eyes, or admit to the behavior which caused them in asking Madame Pomfrey for a cure."

Harry laughed. "Bravo, Severus. I knew you were a sneaky bastard."

His friend grinned and moved to the work area to begin his own potion. As he started to work, Harry thought that it was time they have a chat about what it was he didn't know.

"What's Lucius' problem with you, Severus?"

Severus looked up from his brewing and studied his companion for a moment. "I do not want to tell you."

Harry was surprised. He'd been in this past for several weeks, almost a month, and his only real friend in that time was his future Potions Master. From what he'd experienced, he was fairly sure that the reverse was true as well.

"Why not?"

Severus worked for a few minutes more, until the potion was simmering, as it would need to do for almost an hour. Then, he moved to one of the chairs. Harry sat across from him, waiting.

"I count you as a friend, Harold," a hesitation, "I expect that if I tell you, that will no longer be true."

Harry was concerned, yes, but worried more so. "Severus. Just tell me." The words were quiet and sincere, an opening for trust.

The other young man leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes; "I have never understood girls. Abhorrent experiences with them, even when they would talk to me. Men, boys even, are much easier to understand and relate to." He cracked an eye open to look at Harry.

Harry looked confused. "Yeah, total agreement on that. So what's the problem?"

Severus sighed and continued, as if explaining this to an idiot. "I am not interested in the female persuasion… At all… Sexually."

Harry stopped for a moment, then began to laugh. A few moments rolled by as he continued to laugh and Severus rose from his seat. One thing the intense young man had always had was his pride. As his friend reached for his school bag, Harry forced his laughter to stop. Reaching out for his friend, he grabbed his left forearm in a grip that wouldn't be shaken.

Distantly he realized that Snape had not yet joined with Voldemort. If he had, then this grip would have hurt him. But it was more important at the moment to reassure his friend that he did not scorn him.

"Is that all, Severus?"

Severus scowled. "Is that all? Malfoy and those Gryffindors have tormented me for four years because of this. Three more years before that for other reasons."

Harry smiled with reassurance. "Yeah, but they're prats."

The scowl did not lessen, so Harry continued, "Severus. I don't hate you. In fact, I know how you feel... Intimately."

A moment of thought went into that comment before Severus spoke hesitantly, "You are telling me that you…"

Harry interrupted him. "Don't play for the coed team? Yeah."

Severus' scowl lessened and he began to chuckle and then laugh. As Harry watched his friend laugh, he realized something he'd never noticed before. When he wasn't busy scowling around and frightening everyone, this was a beautiful man.

Severus dropped back into the other chair as Harry asked a question. "The friends I had who knew, they didn't care. Why does this piss Lucius off so much?"

"He finds it a waste of my bloodline. I am the last of the Snape line, and my parents cannot have any more children."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but we're wizards."

When Severus didn't reply, Harry clarified, "There are spells, potions, to make that not matter."

Severus nodded. "They are not common knowledge, but I believe it is simply Lucius being himself."

Harry nodded at that. After a few moments of surprisingly comfortable silence, he stood and moved over to the work area. Severus joined him and they began studying. Friends they may be, but Harry still had to learn how not to burn the bottom out of his cauldrons.

After the bruising potion had finished for Severus black eye, and he'd dosed himself, they moved back into the seating area to relax. Harry perched himself on the short couch, leg drawn up, and arm draped across the back. Severus hesitated a moment, before joining him in a mirror of his position.

Harry smiled, and stretched out his callused fingers to tease at the tips of his friend's long graceful hands.

"Harold." The warning tone was clear.

When Harry looked into his friend's face, he saw a look that told him not to tease. He continued the motions with his hands. When Severus abruptly pulled his hand away, Harry spoke. "Don't tell me you haven't considered it, Sev. I know I have."

With a touch of surprise, Severus turned to look at him. "Why?"

Harry shrugged. "Because I know you can be more than you allow yourself? Because I'm attracted to the intensity I see in you?"

Severus was silent for a long moment, and it was Harry's turn to assume he'd gone too far. He stood from the couch and gathered his bag, the silence from his friend telling him he'd crossed a line.

When he had reached the door, a hand on his shoulder stilled his movement. He turned to face Severus' considering look. Severus took his bag back to one of the worktables and Harry followed. When his friend turned to face him, Harry stepped closer, trapping the other young man between his body and the table.

That damn eyebrow rose, driving Harry nuts. "You're so expressive." It was something he marveled at, knowing how impassive this young man's future self would be.

As he leaned into the warm body, Harry knew that he had every intention of taking this encounter as far as he could. He simply hoped at the end that Severus would have no regrets. He certainly had no intention to retain any. With the advantage of an inch in height, he met Severus at nearly eye level. It brought a faint smile to his face that this was probably the only time in his existence that he would be taller than the future Potions Master.

"Harold."

"Shh."

Harry cut off the hesitation with his kiss. Severus was still for a moment, before returning the pressure with enthusiasm. They battled with lips and tongues, stepping into each other's embrace. Severus clutched at Harry's shoulders, drawing their warmth into contact. The miniscule distance Harry had been able to preserve was banished as Severus allowed the other young man to press him into the edge of the table, their erections rubbing together sinuously.

The green-eyed wizard pulled back, gasping for air. "Severus, I want you."

The onyx eyes that met his own were still hesitant. "Harold, I've never…"

There was a flash of heat in his gaze that he would be this young man's first. His own virginity had been neatly dispensed with as an irritation on a visit by Oliver Wood. He'd had one other lover since, a Muggle, and was pulsing hard at the thought of introducing Severus to the delights of the flesh. He by no means considered himself an expert, but knew it could be an exploration of mutual pleasure.

"Say no and I'll stop." Harry stilled, as the other wizard didn't reply. His hands, grasping tight against Severus' lower back, began to loosen. Harry attempted to step back, but was prevented by the fingers clenched in the shoulders of his robe.

"I didn't say no."

With his crooked grin, Harry leaned back into Severus. The young man's return of the kiss was not nearly as tentative this time. He devoured Harry's advances with an ardor that promised a carryover of his intensity.

When those lips slid from his own to trace down his chin and latch on to his neck, Harry could only pant. "Dear Merlin, Severus, yes."

The dark, liquid chuckle was pure male appreciation as Severus continued to torment Harry with the sensitivity of his neck and ear. Deciding to act on some torture of his own, one of his hands slid downwards to massage at the ass of his soon to be lover. The other hand slid up, teasing at the nape of Severus' neck before tangling firmly in the slick black hair.

He gently drew the other young man's head back, the onyx eyes lust glazed. The urge to dominate his future Potions Master was stringently suppressed as Harry fought for control of his own libido. "Severus…"

This time it was his words that were cut off. "Harold, fuck me, please."

The obscenity dripped from the thin lips like an offering and Harry resisted the urge to lick them up. He wanted, in that instant, to take what had been offered. To simply turn the young man around and use him over the edge of the table. But he would not do that to Severus… Not for his first time and, from what Harry could tell of his own developing emotions, not ever…

"No, Severus."

The denial brought a look of shocked rejection across the stark features and they began to close down. Harry, realizing his error, caught the face that was dear to him before it could turn away.

"Let me go." The words were gritted out between clenched teeth as Severus brought his fingers up to break Harry's grip on him.

"No, Severus. I didn't mean it like that."

The dark eyes were challenging Harry for an explanation and he wept inwardly at the idea of what created such a proud, yet emotionally scarred man. Not completely unlike himself…

"I would be honored to make love with you, Sev. I will not fuck you. You're more than just some… hole… to me. Can't you see that, already?"

If Severus' dark eyes were tunnels, then they were tunnels to his soul. Harry read the emotions laid out quite plainly for his perusal. He nearly groaned when the other young man spoke again. "Then make love to me, Harold."

Their embrace this time was feverish. They clutched at the other, but hands wandered and pulled at the offensive barriers between them. Harry drew back for one panting moment to secure the room with silencing and locking charms, for he had no intentions of being interrupted. As a last, faint thought he wished for somewhere more comfortable for them to act than upon rather than the comfortable, but short, couch.

And as he drew his friend and lover away from the worktables to the sitting area, he spied the items that had replaced the low table before the couch near the fire. A pile of pillows, blankets, throws, and luxurious fur spread out as a feast for the senses and their own private lover's nest.

Harry's gaping attention was drawn back to his companion as a thumb slid over his lower lip to stray just inside. He closed his mouth, sucking gently on that digit before it was drawn away.

"You did say the room would give us what we need."

The green-eyed wizard smiled, his lips curving invitingly. Having never used the Room of Requirement for quite this purpose, he hadn't known it could act in such a manner. But, it was perfect. For this room was entirely theirs, unmarked by any history or purpose other than their own association and enjoyment.

He drew Severus to the pile, stopping just at the edge to devote himself to the loosening of the green and silver tie. Long, dexterous fingers echoed Harry's movements until they were being divested of their garments in a mirror image ballet.

It didn't take long before Harry's robe was forgotten, his shirt dangling loose and his belt tossed to the depths of the rooms. His eyes must have reflected his shock as Severus slid down his body to kneel at his feet. The deft fingers worked open the buttons of his trousers before claiming his rigid prick like a prize.

"Severus!" His exclamation ended in a strangled moan as he succumbed to the incredible wet heat. Desperate, his fingers delved into the black hair. When his eyes would focus again, he panted out, "You said you'd never…"

The wicked look of satisfaction suited the dark eyes and the sharp features. "I've never had intercourse, Harold. I have touched a man before."

As he demonstrated that he did indeed know what to do with that body part, Harry gasped for his restraint. His urging of the dark head to back away from his groin was ignored; the gentle tugs not fierce enough to dissuade the young Slytherin. Harry could only pant and whine as his balls drew tight. He pulsed into the young man's mouth, "Severus!"

It was Severus' turn to support Harry as he stood, the verdant glow of satisfaction in his lover's eyes. When Harry might have spoke, he was met with a kiss. And the realization that Severus was quite possibly as kinky as he was as his ejaculate was fed back to him with the velvet caress of a tongue.

But it was an effort he didn't resist as he recovered his strength and then clutched the barely shorter body tight to his own. "You shouldn't have…" The words were partly contradictory, uttered as they were in a worshipful tone.

Harry's only answer was that arch of brow and the utter smugness. "I wanted to," he attempted to continue his thought but lost track of the words when Severus licked at the slim bump of Adam's apple. The response echoed up from beneath Harry's own throat.

"We're seventeen not forty, Harold. It's not as if the night is over." Severus couldn't possibly understand the spark of lust in Harry's face. Or even see it from his vantage point.

"I think I'll still want you when you're forty." The green-eyed wizard smirked, his lover unable to see in his caresses. Wandlessly and wordlessly, their clothing melted into vapor to reform in a neat pile. It was enough to draw the onyx-eyed young man back in a start, silent shock written on his face.

"And now it's my turn to play."

Severus was rapidly tumbled back onto the bedding, his limbs sprawled. Harry settled himself atop the youth, his limp cock growing encouraged at the pressure of Severus' straining erection. He stretched, drawing that smooth steel against his abdomen and enjoying the way it made his lover arch beneath him.

Harry chuckled. "Responsive." He ignored the glare of irritation to feast on the pale throat before him.

"Don't you dare leave a mark."

The whispered hiss of annoyance caused Harry to chuckle again. Occasionally, he could hear the similarities between the man he would know and the man he currently knew. It was the thought of this situation repeating with the highly controlled Potions Master that brought an unexpected and immediate stature to his erection.

Harry descended to tease at taupe nipples. Severus writhed on the piled bedding, begging wordlessly for more contact. He granted that plea, wrapping a slightly Quidditch roughened hand around the proud cock. The young man began to move in his grasp, sliding his prick in the grip.

Harry's eyes were thin strips of grin, pupil enlarged in ecstasy. He met the indistinguishable dark surfaces of his lover. There was only acceptance in that gaze.

"Tell me you have some ingredient we can use." A fleeting brush of finger against the dark-eyed young man's cleft brought instant understanding.

"You don't have anything?"

Harry chuckled. "I wasn't intending to seduce you."

"And have you?"

"Seduced you?"

A faint nod moved the lank black hair from beside the sharply angled face, tangling it beneath Severus' head. Harry shifted his hand, rubbing more firmly against the entrance to his lover's body and enjoying the gasp that resulted.

"You tell me."

"Almond oil…" Severus' response was panted out as he resisted the desire to thrust himself on that finger. It felt good, the faint touch. The idea that Harold wanted him. That Harold would touch him in mutual pleasure rather than the solicitations of selfish use he'd received before. It made him want to beg… And that was something with which he was not accustomed.

A quick summoning charm brought the small bottle of faintly golden oil to Harry's hand. He tried to move slowly, he truly did, but they were both so eager.

The first finger slipped into Severus' body past the first knuckle, drawing them to a halt at his gasping cry. Harry watched his lover's face urgently for any sign of pain or hesitation. What he saw in the dark eyes was insistence and demand.

"Move. Now."

Harry began to stroke smoothly, Severus' arousal making it easier than expected to breach the virgin territory. It wasn't long before the other young man was begging.

"More, Harold. Please, dear Merlin, more…"

His words were cut off on a sigh of want as Harry eased another finger into his body. Stretching and seeking, it was obvious when he'd located the prostate as Severus thrust up suddenly with a cry. Not needing the encouragement, Harry began to ease a third finger inside.

The pressure, the tension of the skin, caused him to pause in his approach. From Severus' expression, he was obviously beginning to feel some slight pain, but was not ceasing his eager acceptance of the invasion. His own control breaking, Harry quickly brought the penetration from three to four, spreading his lover impossibly wide for the uninitiated.

When he withdrew entirely, it was to a whimpering gasp. But shortly that gasp was sucked back in on a breath as Severus' eyes widened further.

"I can stop." Harry's words said one thing, but his eyes begged his lover. Holding himself rigid, stiff heat pressed against Severus' anus, his body thrummed with restrained energy. The young Slytherin urged his entrance with a twitch of his hips and a whimpering plea.

"Harold, now."

Even with the preparation, it seemed for a long moment that Severus' body would not permit the entry. Then, in a shocking release of pressure, the slick head of Harry's cock slipped inside. He froze, letting the body below his arch and squirm. It tested his patience and his restraint, but he held his position.

A long moment, a measure of forever to a lust-ridden teenager, then finally Severus opened his eyes to meet Harry's. The shining acceptance and trust guided him as he inched inside. Harry would never be able to forget the emotions that ran through that gaze as he stripped the body of its last innocence.

Finally, seated deep inside with his balls pressed to the slim ass, Harry panted as he leaned against his lover. Severus slid his arms up from Harry's hands to urge the weight of the other young man down against him. Only when his lips were a breath away from the flush-tinged ear did he speak.

"Enough love-making, Harold. Fuck me, please."

With a cry, Harry's restraint disappeared. He began to move, thrusting sharply. There were some people whose first time needed to remain sweet and simple. Severus was obviously not of this nature as he met each hard movement with a demanding arch of his own. Their mating was a claiming, a frenzied combination of lust, desire, and emotion.

Harry pulled himself back, levering up until he found at angle that brought a gasping cry from Severus on each stroke. Slipping his hand between them, it took a bare minimum of strokes on the turgid organ before Severus was climaxing with a scream of passion. The green-eyed wizard allowed himself to push in hard, finding his own ecstatic completion.

They came down from the high slowly, curled together. Harry roused himself from his pleasure-induced stupor to utilize his wandless talents to clean them of the sticky residue. Severus ran his fingers through the short, messy hair, petting his lover into sleep. When Harry's breathing had deepened, his body lax, the young Slytherin maneuvered the covers over them both.

He stared for a long moment at the black lashes and pale lids that covered the usually luminescent green eyes. "I've fallen in love with you, Harold." The confession was unheard in the empty room, it's recipient lost in a peaceful sleep.

Severus watched for a long time, imprinting the day upon his memory. Finally, he too fell into the sandman's grasp.

Harry woke first, confusion as to where he was disappearing as a warm, elegant hand crept over his ribs and pulled him closer to a firm body. The euphoria of the night before lost, he was trapped in a single thought, 'Snape is going to kill me when I get back.'

The thought was enough to pull him from the makeshift bed of blankets and furs. After he'd dressed, he looked over to find Severus watching him with considering eyes.

"Regrets?" The question came quietly from his friend, now lover.

Harry thought for a long moment before replying, "Regrets, no. Awkwardness, yes. We're going to be late for breakfast." He smiled and leaned down to give his lover a lingering morning kiss before gathering their things. The other young man joined him, dressing and grabbing his bag.

"Are we going to hide this, Harold?"

The question was sincere and deserved a sincere answer. Harry thought for a moment and then realized he wasn't ashamed. If there were future consequences, then he would bear them. It was time for him to partake of a touch of the happiness that his sacrifices in dealing with Voldemort provided to the rest of the wizarding world.

Perhaps, just perhaps, in his time here, he could convince Severus that he was sincere enough in his emotion to stop the man's future self from murdering him on sight. With a smile for his lover, he responded, "No." And deep inside he made a resolution. He would live his life in this time and deal with what may be in the future when he returned there.

^^^^^^^

A True Slytherin

Harry and Severus walked into the Great Hall in the middle of breakfast, the room was mostly full, and the Slytherins all seemed to be there. With a last traded glance, Harry and Severus walked to their House table and took seats together at the far end nearest the teachers. They had several open places between themselves and the other students, but could easily see Lucius' forbidding look. Harry smirked up the table at Lucius and then lifted Severus' hand that he'd been holding the entire time.

He lifted it until he was certain Lucius could see what he was doing and laid a sweet kiss across the knuckles. A moment of silence drifted across the hall before the conversation picked back up again with this newest piece of gossip.

Severus looked at him and shook his head. "I revise my opinion. You are suicidal."

Harry just laughed and the two settled into their breakfast. Moments later, as he was reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, it transformed before his hand into a coiled viper. He looked down the table and saw Malfoy putting away his wand. Harry sighed and watched the viper move for a moment, tongue flicking out to taste this new world.

Severus pushed himself back from the table so fast, he fell over. As other students caught sight of the snake, and as it uncurled it revealed itself as a very large snake, there were screams.

At the sound, accompanied presumably by the scent of fear, the viper splayed out its hood and hissed at Harry.

From behind him, he could hear Severus' saying insistently, "Harold," and what sounded like the Headmaster calling, "Move back, Mr. James."

Harry was focused on what the snake was saying, his head tilted at a considering angle. It was angry, uncomfortable, pissed beyond imagining. It hissed its displeasure at him and its intentions. He swayed with it as it wove back and forth, and watched it carefully to see if it would strike him. The snake turned, hissing loudly, its fangs clear and dripping slightly, towards the other students.

Shifting in his seat, Harry drew the viper's entire attention to him as the closest person.

He reached inwards, looking for that concentration point which allowed him to speak in sibilant hisses and stops, and spoke. He spoke to the snake of comfort, reassurance, and apologies.

It halted its threatening gestures towards the other students and focused on him. Harry was relieved. His Parseltongue had become a lot better through practice and he had made sure to practice this obscure talent. He was distantly aware that silence had fallen over the hall as he spoke to the snake in its own language.

The snake lunged towards Severus who had stepped towards Harry. Harry held out his hand, gesturing for everyone to move back and stood from his seat, still comforting the snake in Parseltongue. The silence surrounded them both as Harry convinced the snake to curl itself in place.

He looked to the Headmaster then, who was watching him carefully. Harry looked around the room. It was just like his second year, shocked faces, disbelief, and accusations. Except this time he was a Slytherin, so it would be worse.

Dumbledore approached through the crowd and brought Harry back to the present with a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. James?"

Harry looked at his Headmaster and then nodded. "She's ready, sir. She doesn't understand she was created by a spell. But, you can get rid of her without any further problem."

And it was true. The snake had held still, curled in on itself with its hood retracted and no threatening behavior, since Harry had begun to instruct it to do so. That assistance didn't stop the whispers, which started in the hall as Dumbledore banished the snake back into the magical ether from which it had come with a softly stated, "Ipera Evanesca. "

Harry flinched as the snake dissolved and looked to Severus. The young man, his lover, was watching him again with that impassive face that hid everything. Harry didn't know that experience would hurt so much once he'd seen what was underneath. He looked around the hall and focused on the Marauders. They were staring at him in horror, except for Sirius Black who was saying, "I told you so," in a voice that carried quite clearly.

Grabbing his bag, Harry began to rush from the hall. When he'd gone further up the table, focused on reaching the doors, Lucius grabbed his arm to halt his flight.

"You are a true Slytherin then, Harold."

The tone of voice was one he didn't recognize from the blonde young man. Harry stared at him in confusion, the inner pain drowning out his ability to comprehend the situation.

"We'll not trouble you or your catamite any longer. Slytherin house respects those with Salazar's gift."

Harry continued to stare, this time in shock, as Lucius did a short bow to him and was accompanied by his goons. He pulled away from the restraining grasp and began to run, his shoes echoing in the halls.

He remembered what it was like in his second year: the jokes, the fear, and the paranoia. But here, in this time, there was still a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. And he'd be damned before he'd even whisper of its existence, as its emergence was such a large part of his future history. Not to mention the bloody fact that Voldemort would probably love to try and recruit a Slytherin who was also a Parselmouth. Or kill him as a potential rival.

Against his will, Harry's feet had carried him to the Room of Requirement. It was still set as they'd left it and Harry tossed himself on the couch. It rocked slightly with the weight of his impact, but he simply lay there.

Harry wasn't sure how much later it had gotten when he became aware of a hand rubbing circles on his back. He stopped the impulse to say either 'Ron?' or 'Hermione?' realizing just in time where he was located. He breathed deeply and calmed himself, letting go of that instant adrenaline rush.

He turned his head slightly and looked into the eyes of Severus who was kneeling next to the couch. Harry turned his head away; burying it back in his arms with a muttered, "Please leave."

The rubbing didn't stop. "I'm not going to do that, Harold."

Harry pushed his head farther into the couch, the words barely making it past his arms and the fabric, "I can't handle this, Sev. It's too much, too often."

The hand moved from his back, to pet his hair. "Explain to me what's wrong, Harold."

Harry concentrated on the concern in that voice and pulled his head up, looking once again at his lover. Severus' face was no longer blank; it held his emotion and revealed it to him.

He shook his head. "That's just it, Sev. I want to, but I can't." Harry's face was anguished. He was stuck, trapped between the potentiality of paradox and his own needs. He dropped his head back onto the couch, not really knowing what he'd do.

There was a slight rustle of noise from beside him as Severus shifted, then he could feel the other man's head lying on his side. "Then I must accept that, mustn't I?"

^^^^^^^

Who Can You Trust?

Two weeks after the snake incident, as Harry referred to it, the school was still giving him a wide berth. It was like second year all over again, he'd walk up and conversations would stop. He'd step into a room and the students would stare. Even the professors were acting paranoid around him. No one would talk with him without other people present, other than Severus.

But that wasn't something either he or Severus really minded, as the darker-eyed Slytherin had pointed out. After a study session in their lab, Harry had dropped again into his complaints about the situation. Severus had listened patiently and then simply said, "Would you prefer they follow you about and seek your favor?"

Considering the activities they were involved in when not studying, a pair of young man enjoying the first flush of love and lust, Harry definitely preferred not to have to avoid students to get some time alone together.

Of course, Malfoy was acting oddly.

Malfoy had avoided both Harry and Severus since the incident. Harry found it odd, considering that Lucius had been responsible for the situation in the first place. He'd asked Severus about it, the other young man having more experience with this group of Slytherins.

Harry had forgotten that Voldemort actually had been recruiting Parselmouths in his first reign of terror. And that those who had refused had been murdered. The idea stopped him from wondering about it and caused him to avoid Malfoy more than ever.

After dinner, the night before the Halloween Feast, Harry and Severus were planning to return to the Slytherin common room. They'd spent enough time off by themselves to draw attention and with the new respectful distance from Malfoy the common room was comfortable again.

Harry didn't know what to expect, other than the usual, when Sirius Black stopped them outside the Great Hall.

"Can't you even be properly ashamed of yourself?" The question was critical and harsh.

Harry rolled his eyes. He did not hold this behavior against the memory of his godfather. If he could separate both Snape and Severus in his mind, he could separate his godfather and this angry young man.

"What do you think I should be ashamed of, Black?"

A scowl answered him. "All ready to join You Know Who, I guess."

Harry sighed and yanked his left sleeve up his arm, shoving his forearm towards the other young man. "I am not a Death Eater, Black."

"Not yet." The answer was spit at him before his foe turned and stalked away.

Harry yielded to the insistent prodding from Severus and joined him on the way to the Slytherin common room. Not for the first time, he exhaled in frustration, "What is his problem?"

Severus shrugged slightly. "Black is disowned, from a family which has always been Slytherin, and now he is Gryffindor."

Harry shook his head, not able to reveal he already knew what Sirius' problem was and that it would never be solved.

They settled into a corner of the common room, snagging two relatively secluded chairs for themselves. It was about an hour later when they were approached. Harry looked up from his transfiguration text to see Lucius waiting patiently for acknowledgement. He was definitely discomfited by the experience, if not slightly off put by the implied deference.

"What, Malfoy?"

The acknowledgement was all the other man needed to step closer. Harry drew back slightly in his chair when Malfoy knelt beside it, darting a confused look to Severus across from him. Severus simply shook his head to show that he really didn't have any more clue than Harry.

"Harold, my Lord has directed me to bid you welcome and invite you to meet him."

Harry's eyes widened, an expression that Malfoy took for honored surprise.

"Yes, you see now. My Lord wishes to make the acquaintance of a brother of his house and gifts."

Harry managed to stumble out a reply, not needing to be attacked, but needing to get some time to consult with others first. "I must have time to consider this."

Lucius nodded. "I will carry your message to him when you are ready, but I would advise against an unseemly delay."

Harry watched, still shocked, as the blonde man bowed slightly and backed away from them, leaving them in privacy once again. He looked to Severus, who was watching him carefully. "Sev, what's going on?"

The other young man shrugged. "You're being recruited."

Harry shook his head. "I understood that…"

Severus raised an eyebrow and looked over the room, to indicate the insecurity of their current location. "Go to our lab, I left a book out for you to look at. I'll join you in a few minutes."

Thirty minutes later, Harry was rereading the marked section of the charms text for a fifth time. He couldn't believe the spell that he was reading, a binding spell… He knew they existed; more elaborate versions were used for oaths of office and not surprisingly in the Dark Mark.

Turning at the sound of another person entering, Harry was still speechless. He'd grown accustomed to Severus' hair oiled into a lank mess around his head. But… Harry closed his open mouth.

"Sev, you look…" He paused, unable to describe how delicious his lover looked. Severus had removed whatever he usually used to control his hair, leaving it in its natural state. That natural state being soft curls that looked neither pretentious nor overly groomed. It was a style that Muggle women often tried to achieve to impart a sexiness that couldn't be faked.

Severus flushed, spots of color sticking to his high cheekbones. "You said we have nothing to hide from each other."

Harry approached and hugged him tightly. "And I meant it." He petted the fresh hair for a moment. "I admit to liking this a lot better. You're… edible."

When Severus flushed again, Harry drew the other face to his for a deep kiss. Both young men moaned at the exchange of ardor, their tongues dueling for a dominance that neither felt required to achieve.

Releasing his lover regretfully, Harry pulled the other young man over to the table at which he'd been reading the book of spells. With their hands entwined, he stared down at the page. "Sev, you know if we do this, it can't be undone."

A silent nod. "I am aware of that. It's a soul promise, a binding."

Harry looked to him. "Why me?"

"Because I trust you. Because my father has promised me to Voldemort and this will give me some freedom if I cannot avoid that fate." The additional thought of 'because I love you' went unsaid in the darkened room. But it was there, in both their thoughts… The spell would not work without that shared emotion.

Harry nodded. "The Muggles would call this a hand-fasting, Sev."

"I am aware of that as well. You need not fear it, Harold. The magic will not allow us to be bound if there will ever exist a time when we would not be suited. The spell has no opening for the Muggle concept of divorce because it has not need of one."

Harry took a deep breath; not knowing if what he was about to choose was the best idea.

"I accept your offer."

As they cast the spell, the magic bound their souls to each other in a promise. The promise that they would protect and assist, love and cherish. The words were echoed in Muggle use, but this was between wizards and irrevocable by State or decree. When it was finished, Harry dropped into a chair from exhaustion but pulled himself back up with a startled cry of pain at pressure on his shoulder blade.

He pulled his robes loose and then removed his shirt, so that Severus could check the spot. He looked back at the other man with irritance when he chuckled.

"It's my family crest," the explanation reassured Harry, "it likely appeared to denote the success of the bond."

Severus turned and removed his own robes and shirt, showing his shoulder blade to Harry. Harry looked at it in shock for a moment, knowing that the magic hadn't been fooled. The spell had bound their souls and Harry's soul knew who he was. There, on the shoulder blade of his future Potions Master, was a clear and precise copy of the Potter family crest.

"You have one as well," Harry whispered.

They both re-clothed themselves, intending to return to the common room. Severus stopped him before they left the room. "It would be best if no one knew of this."

The green-eyed wizard hesitated, the insecurity clear on his face. For the first time, Severus became the leader in their relationship. "I am not ashamed of you, Harold. This is not a safe time in the wizarding world and I will not risk you."

Harry nodded, unsure of himself and the situation he'd created. Was this going to be a paradox?

Severus reached out to him. "I'm not ashamed of us, Harold," his repetition brought some comfort to the other young man. "But the ritual is not typically used since it is uncertain as to when it will succeed and when it will fail."

He reached a long fingered hand into a pocket of his robes and withdrew a small golden item. It was a ring, designed like a twining golden snake, with emerald chips as eyes, mouth holding its own tail in a never-ending circle.

"As a public sign of our promise."

Harry accepted the ring, removing the silver one he'd received from Dumbledore. "This and my wand are the only things I have left that are me from before."

He pressed it into Severus' grasp and as they left the room there was a new comfort with each other.

^^^^^^^

The Paradox of Paradox

The day of the Halloween Feast dawned clear and cold in the Hogwarts castle. It was a weekend, the first Hogsmeade weekend combined with the glory of the evening ahead.

Harry and Severus set out with the other students from Hogwarts, the short walk into Hogsmeade a comforting reminder of the world outside the castle walls. Harry was amused to see which shops were present already. The absence of Madame Rosmerta was a touch odd to him, although he was amazed to see that Zonko's was not only present, it was doing brisk business.

He strolled with Severus down the streets before they settled on a bench in a small park. Idle conversation, insignificant and unremarkable, occupied them for a few moments. Observations on classmates, on professors, on classes, the usual chatter he remembered from his companionable times with Ron and Hermione, or the random boyfriend he'd sat with before.

It was that peace which was disturbed by an explosion.

Harry jumped at the loud noise, looking out over the buildings as the Dark Mark rose into the air several streets down. His face paled and he considered for a moment that he probably should have stayed in the castle.

Severus, for his part, had moved to his feet and pulled his wand. He backed towards the trees. "Harold, come with me. As long as we stay out of the crowds, they won't touch us."

Harry shook his head in shock. He couldn't help. He couldn't risk dying, in the here and now, because he had to be alive to defeat Voldemort in the future. It was a paradox of his morals.

He was still numb from the conflicting thoughts when Severus dragged him from the bench by his arm and out of the exposed park area. Breaking from his daze, he looked around quickly.

"The Shrieking Shack is a street over, we have to get to it."

Severus looked at him like he was delusional, but followed when Harry started to move. It was lucky for them that the attack, and most of the confusion of the attack, was centered on the other side of town where shops and students were more plentiful.

Once they reached the Shack, Harry moved around to the back searching for a door. When he found it, a quick 'Alohomora' dispensed with the lock and he went inside.

Severus watched him with confusion, but followed as Harry entered. Certain that someone had already reported the situation to the school, by owl or floo, Harry focused on getting out of the Shack and through the tunnel. It was a short trip, shorter than he'd expected at least, and he stopped by the darkened exit, his wand granting feeble light in the tunnel.

The light was enough to see the suspicion on his lover's face.

"How did you know this was here?"

Harry didn't know how to answer that question, so he tried the limited truth. "Sev…" It hurt to know he was lying to the person he really thought he loved. "I can't tell you, but you will eventually understand."

They triggered the exit and halted the movements of the still young Whomping Willow with the long stick that had been left inside for just that purpose. Together, they ran for the castle, hurrying inside past younger students who had not yet heard, aimed for the Headmaster's office.

Once there, Harry opened it with the password he still knew. At the top, the Headmaster was waiting, concerned. Harry attempted to force out an explanation through his wheezing lack of breath, but was interrupted.

"We've been told, Mr. James. Wait here until I return."

When the Headmaster had flooed away, Severus turned to Harry.

"I think it's time you told me what was happening, Harold."

Harry reached out as he spoke, "Sev."

Severus pulled back and sat himself in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Sit and tell me. No more lies." His voice was angry, his expression inscrutable.

Harry grimaced, but sat. "I can't tell you, Sev. I want to, by Merlin, I want to. I can't."

"Then tell me what you can."

There was a pause as Harry considered how to construct his explanation; "I have to leave. I can't stay here at Hogwarts any longer. I can't explain and I can't tell you where I'm going."

A pained expression broke through the emotionless mask; "You're just leaving?"

Harry closed his eyes, hoping this would be easier without having to look at the person he'd grown to care for so much.

"Yes."

"If you're not here, I will have no way to avoid my family's pressures."

They both understood what Severus referred to, but felt no need to be more specific in this location.

"I know." There was obvious regret in Harry's voice as he spoke, but he continued, "I love you, Sev. I know you'll come to hate me, but try to remember that I was always honest about that."

Harry could hear sounds that told him the other boy was moving. He opened his eyes when he felt the presence of someone in front of him. Severus leaned down and kissed him. It was gentle and sweet and brought tears to both their eyes at the thought of goodbye.

"We are bound to the other for eternity. Return to me when you can."

Harry sat, still silent, as his lover turned and left the office. Alone, he no longer tried to keep the tears in check. They tracked down his cheeks and were his only outward expression of the grief he was feeling.

Three hours later, the office had grown cold to Harry, even with the blazing fire waiting for Dumbledore's return. When the Headmaster did return, he looked silently at his young charge before taking a seat at the desk. Harry was the first to speak.

"It's time for me to leave. I know you can't send me back, but this is probably for the best."

Dumbledore nodded. "It will be difficult."

Harry's laughter had a cynical edge. "But Voldemort will expect a child and face a man instead."

The Headmaster frowned at the loss and cynicism in the younger man. "I have made the necessary arrangements. You will have money to help and be able to graduate as of this class year. The legal request to merge your birth identity with this current one has been filed, sealed of course, and will be opened when you specify a request to the Ministry."

It was Harry's turn to nod; "I'll remain in hiding as we agreed. Then, I'll travel. I know enough about what should happen to keep myself out of trouble."

The Headmaster stood. "As your Secret Keeper, I will guard you."

Harry stood as well. "As the Secret, I will remain hidden."

It was a verbal restatement of a pact. One that, while not pleasant, was necessary. Harry had gotten rather sick of doing what was necessary in life and was looking forward to the day when he could just be himself.

Stepping towards the fire, ready to floo to where he'd remain in hiding, he stopped. He didn't know if his next words would cause a paradox, or prevent one, but he loved Severus too much to take the chance.

"Albus… When he comes to you, when he repents, protect him. Keep him safe for me."

The Headmaster nodded and laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. After Harry had disappeared in a gush of green flame, he thought once again that it was improper that so much had been laid on those young shoulders.

^^^^^^^

The Hidden Years

Over the space of twenty years, emerald eyes had seen the world. They'd changed, from the knowledgeable but slightly naïve eyes of a young adult, to the seasoned and measuring eyes of an almost forty-year-old man.

It hadn't been easy to remain hidden. And occasionally, he'd broken his hiding to watch, under concealment glamour, as some bit of his history occurred. He'd kept track of the date, or the British wizarding papers, even when he traveled.

As a turban wearing Easterner, he'd joined the celebrations in Diagon Alley on the night that he, the one-year-old he, had banished Voldemort. It was a bizarre experience, watching these crowds celebrate fate.

Years later, he returned to Diagon Alley again. This time, he'd been absent as he studied meditation and magic in the Eastern lands. It was the turban that had given him the idea. And off he'd gone, to see how magic was dealt with and if there was anything new he could learn. His stay, upon returning, was short. For as he walked down Diagon Alley, covered under yet another concealing charm, he'd spotted his bondmate exiting from Knockturn Alley. The sight was a physical impact and it took most of his willpower not to approach. The experience drove him away.

That time he went to Egypt. Deep inside, he found it amusing to work with Gringotts and their curse breakers. To the professionals, he was an independent; someone hired on for the difficult jobs. After a young redhead by the name of Weasley was brought aboard the team, he knew it was time to move on. But there, in those dusty lands, he found his companion.

In actuality, the phoenix found him. Scarlet and gold, as he remembered Fawkes, this one had slightly different markings and a similar attitude. He'd named her Isis and she accepted it. And when he'd readied himself to leave, she had followed. In dark times, when his memory overtook him and the longing to go home early was steep and sharp, she comforted him.

When he left Egypt, he went to South America. South America was hot; the same as Egypt had been, but the presence of water in the very air he breathed made his stay a short one. Short, for someone on a twenty year enforced absence, meant only a year or two.

This time when he returned, he chose to stay in England. Although the wizarding community was small, there was still enough room for an isolated eccentric who avoided others. It gave him the chance to walk in Diagon Alley, to shake his head over the press coverage of his youth spent at Hogwarts, and to wait.

For all that time, he was waiting.

Other than Isis, the comfort for his mind was his communication with Albus. They were coded, of course. Letters locked and sealed under protections and curses new and old. Carried, always, by either Isis or Fawkes. Neither wizard considered that anyone capable of removing a scroll from the grasp of a phoenix could likely defeat their protections. The protections themselves were an amusement. A way to trade knowledge and jest with the other.

Those letters sustained him. They carried news, reassurances, and life giving faith that the world was waiting for him. He knew, deep inside, that most would not reject him. He knew that Dumbledore carried the whole story and would accept him. However, he still wanted to return to his bondmate. Thinking about him was a physical ache, an absence that would not be healed. Part of him wondered whether Severus would kill him on sight. Part of him didn't care anymore.

And, finally, his waiting was over. As he prepared to close out his life as Harold James, Harry took stock of his things. He would give Dumbledore two weeks after his disappearance before returning, that they'd agreed. But that didn't mean he couldn't send presents.

^^^^^^^

The Return

Ron poked at his dinner and nodded with commiseration as his girlfriend continued to complain.

"He gave us two more feet today, Ron. Two feet!" She slammed her fork down on the table and glared at the high table. "I don't know what's wrong with Professor Snape, but I finally agree with you. He's evil."

Ron smirked and stayed silent. He'd tried suggesting she drop the class the first time, pranks and jokes the second, by the third day he knew well enough to stay silent.

Hermione settled down after a moment and Ron reached out to her. She sighed heavily. "I know Dumbledore said Harry would be back in a week, but I'm so worried."

Ron squeezed her hand gently. "I know, Mione. I am too."

They both looked up as the cry of a phoenix broke through the normal chatter sounds of dinnertime. In confusion, they noted that Fawkes was silently perched on the upper edge of Dumbledore's chair. Following the Headmaster's glance, they turned to see a new phoenix, appearing out of nowhere at the back of the hall, make its way to the head table.

The students below the bird leaned and moved. It was carrying what looked like a hugely heavy chest as it flew. No matter how many knew that a phoenix could carry the weight, it made them none the less willing to run the risk of having it dropped on them.

The phoenix coasted to a stop at the front of the Head Table, releasing the chest gently although it still settled with a heavy sounding noise and a slight rattle as the chain which had wrapped it, the point by which it had been carried by the phoenix, settled to the ground. Free of its burden, the phoenix offered the letter in its beak to the Headmaster.

Curiosity was rampant in the hall as the Headmaster read the letter. The silence was almost absolute as dinner continued, but everyone waited to see if they could find out what was happening. Minutes passed before the Headmaster closed the paper and tucked it into his robes. He rose from his seat and walked down the staff table to say a few words to Professor Snape. Then, rather than exiting through the staff doors, he walked out among the tables, headed for Gryffindor.

Ron's eyes widened slightly when Dumbledore stopped next to him. "Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, come with me please."

They stood and followed, shrugging at the inquisitive glances and questions from their housemates. The students watched as Snape levitated the trunk and followed the Headmaster and the two students.

Once inside the Headmaster's office, the two students took seats and watched, not knowing their place, as their Potions Master struggled not to say anything. Finally, the suspense was lifted when he failed.

"Albus, what is going on?" Rather than massively irritated, Snape sounded exhausted. Ron and Hermione turned to the Headmaster, still not knowing their part.

"The letter and chest are from Mr. Potter. He has asked me to distribute its contents prior to his arrival."

Ron and Hermione traded a glance and looked quickly at their professor. Dumbledore could have floated the chest, what was Snape doing here? Especially a Snape who had now dropped his head into his hands and seemed to be desperately trying to ignore the room.

It was an odd thing to think that you could forget about a phoenix, but they had. The bird, which had apparently followed them all, hopped from its makeshift perch at the back of the room and moved to the Potions Master shoulder. Its trills echoed in the space as it rubbed its head on him.

Ron was aghast at the scene but Hermione stilled, letting her thoughts move. She'd read something about phoenixes… Something that should explain this. The Headmaster interrupted before she could draw her conclusion.

"Since Isis seems to like you, Severus, perhaps you should care for her."

The Headmaster ignored the death glare that was coming out from underneath the dangling hair of his youngest professor. Instead, he turned his attention to the two students. With a wave of his wand, the chain fell away from the chest and the lid opened. There wasn't much inside. Hundreds of what looked like letters, and a few books on top.

"Mr. Weasley, Harry has instructed me that you are to keep his Firebolt. He has acquired a new broom."

Ron was shocked, but pleased beyond imaging. "Wow…"

The Headmaster continued, "Ms. Granger, the books are fo