The Iridescent Conclusion

The rest of the week passed without much incident for Harry but he continued to brood on the situation between himself and Snape. Since Monday, he felt even more mystified by the situation than he had before. Until then, he’d grown used to the impression that Snape had never loved him; he hadn’t liked it, of course, but the knowledge was firmly lodged nonetheless.

Now though...

Now he was remembering a Christmas spent in the man’s house, feeling loved and adored... worshipped even.

“Harry?” Hermione touched his shoulder gently, “Are you okay? Are you stuck?”

He looked down at his Transfiguration assignment and sighed. “No,” he replied despondently.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound very convinced,” she asked, sitting down beside him on the sofa.

The Gryffindor common room was fairly empty, with only a few students wanting to get a head start on their revision for the exams after Easter. The rest were currently outside, enjoying the unusually warm spring evening, having made the decision that the Easter Holidays began right here at the start of the weekend.

“I’m okay,” Harry said quietly with a quick glance over his shoulder to where a couple of fourth year boys were arguing softly over their Divination homework. “I just...” he broke off, shook his head and sighed again.

“It isn’t the work, is it?” Hermione gazed shrewdly at him. A moment later, she took away his assignment papers and sent them upstairs to his trunk where all the rest of Harry’s books resided. Harry made no protest but only sank his head down into his hands.

“Can you talk?” Hermione suggested then, “Would it help?”

“I don’t see how,” Harry said, still with his face in his hands, “I know what the problem is – talking won’t make it go away. Won’t change anything.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” she asked then in a soft whisper.

She was answered by the shake of a head and a short, snuffly sort of breath that might have been a short sob from anyone else.

“We talked – Monday, after that disaster in Potions!” Harry said then, lifting his head. His face was pink, flushed, but dry. “I thought he... that he... but he doesn’t. He really did love me.”

“And you didn’t know?” Hermione asked, quietly amazed. “I thought you could feel whatever he and Draco were feeling?”

“We can block each other. We don’t have to share everything – that would come with the third part. If we ever invoked it,” he added half to himself. Absently, he fingered the narrow gold band on his little finger and felt a distant stirring within.

“So, all this time,” his friend said slowly, “since Christmas, you thought that he didn’t love you? Harry, what were you thinking? Anyone – even Ron, for goodness sake – could see that the man was beside himself with grief over losing you.”

“He didn’t lose me though, did he?” Harry growled bitterly. “I was right here, right where he and Dumbledore banished me and I never stopped, you know? I never hid my feelings from him but he never...”

From somewhere – the Restricted Section of the library – came a ripple of irritation, shadowed by a sense of regret. No words came, though, but Harry knew that he had at least one eavesdropper.

‘I’m here,’ Draco said, right on cue, ‘I’m always with you. I just don’t like to intrude.’

Harry smiled a little wistfully and nodded, even though Draco couldn’t see him.

“Look,” Hermione began gently, “why don’t you -”

She was interrupted though as Ron and Ginny burst into the common room, loaded with a bright assortment of home-made Easter eggs.

“From mum!” Ginny announced, flinging her load into the armchair next to Harry and Hermione. “She’s gone a bit mad, this year – probably realising that all her babies are growing up and leaving the nest or something.” She then handed two Easter eggs each to Harry and Hermione.

“Leaving the nest,” Ron shook his head. “Honestly, Gin! You’re only going to Beauxbatons for one summer and I’ll only be away for a month. Nah! She probably just got carried away with the chocolate spell.”

“Beauxbatons?” Harry raised an eyebrow at Ginny. Beside him, Hermione was relaxing once more after she’d stiffened a little at Ron and Ginny’s interruption.

Ginny nodded with a grin. “Madam Maxime is running a summer school for students who want to learn more about magical creatures,” she explained. “Hagrid’s going too – he keeps insisting that it’s so he can introduce the Beauxbatons students to some new interesting creature.”

“Uh oh!” Ron muttered, no doubt recalling the Blast-Ended Skrewts.

“No, he says they're really nice!” Ginny insisted.

Harry, however, wasn’t convinced. Hagrid’s impression of something ‘nice’ was probably very different to everyone else’s opinion.

“And where are you going then?” he asked, looking up at Ron with a smile.

“Oh! Er...” Ron hesitated and shot Hermione a slightly panicked glance.

“Mum and dad have invited Ron on holiday with us,” Hermione explained calmly. “We’re going to stay in a villa in Tuscany.”

“For a month?” Harry stared incredulously at her, “Very posh!”

“You don’t mind, mate?” Ron asked, sounding anxious.

“Mind?” Harry looked at him, “Why would I mind? You’ll have a great time!”

“Yes, but well we were a bit worried that you’d... well,” Hermione faltered. “We thought that if you were stuck here for the summer, you’d feel a bit miffed with being left on your own.”

“Oh, well...” Harry shook his head and then paused. He hadn’t actually given the summer holidays much thought. “Well, I guess Draco will be here too.” He said thoughtfully. Although, a treacherous little voice suggested, Snape might take Draco home with him for the summer; after all, he was his guardian…

“But I suppose you could stay with Moony and Snuffles?” Hermione said quietly.

“Yeah…” Harry nodded vaguely, “I guess so.” He glanced at the clock then and swore. “Sorry! I’m late - I’m supposed to be with Jenna. See you later!” and with that, he hurried out.

Even as he jogged down to the Transfiguration classroom, however, he was aware of the significant silence from both Draco and Snape.

*~*~*

The trouble with Death Eaters, Lucius pondered, was that they were chosen by the Dark Lord for, amongst other things, their tenacity, their curious nature (less charitable souls would consider them to be nosey or interfering) and their simple refusal to let a matter drop. A matter, for instance, like the personal affairs of one within the Dark Lord’s inner circle.

Certainly, the Dark Lord didn’t care what Lucius did with his personal life; cared nothing for whom he slept with and cared even less for where he spent the majority of his time. He probably knew of Daniel but, considering that the Litworths were an old, pure blood (if poor) family, he saw fit to leave well alone.

If only the same could be said for Lucius’ contemporaries.

Oh, the likes of Rabastan Lestrange could be ignored; as could his brother Rudolphus. And Bellatrix had barely spoken to him since the little incident at the Christmas party. But others, whilst polite, were curious and some few had made comments about meeting Daniel. One or two others had even dared to suggest that his new lover might not share their ideals and, whilst Lucius could silence such members, it wouldn’t stop the silent speculation.

So, he considered, staring up at the ceiling from their bed, he was more or less forced to introduce Daniel to a select few of his brethren. It wasn’t something he wished to do; in fact, it was an enormous risk. Daniel may well recognise certain members, may even speak out...

No, he wouldn’t, Lucius assured himself; Daniel wasn’t the type for a public confrontation. Nevertheless, he, Lucius, would choose his guests carefully – but how to introduce them?

Realising then that he’d been brooding up here for an hour or more and Daniel hadn’t been up to see if he was all right, Lucius then swung his long legs to the floor and decided to go and find the focus of his thoughts.

“Daniel?” his rich, rounded voice echoed through the house as he made his way down the stairs.

“I’m out here!” the younger man called and Lucius stepped smartly along the hall and out the back door to find Daniel crouching down and frowning unhappily at a plant that had definitely looked better. “I think it’s dying,” Daniel said mournfully as Lucius came closer.

“Daniel, I think it’s dead,” Lucius stated, peering at the shrivelled, yellow leaves and dried stalks.

“Ali’s going to kill me!” his lover groaned, scratching at his forehead. “She specifically told me to take care of the garden and look after the pots.”

“Well,” Lucius smirked, “the pot looks fine; it’s only the plant that looks dead.”

That earned him a dark look from beneath the younger man’s drooping fringe. “You’re not helping,”

“I know,” Lucius replied unrepentantly, “but I know even less about plants than you, baby boy. However,” he added, bending down to draw Daniel to his feet, “I know someone who excels with all things green.”

“Who?” Daniel’s tone was sulky.

Lucius smiled then and wiped carefully at his lover’s dirt-smudged forehead. “Well, that leads me on to the reason I was looking for you. I need to go home for a while – tie up some loose ends, top up the wards and host a dinner party for a few associates of mine.” The last was delivered with quiet nonchalance and the obvious hope that Daniel would miss it.

“A party?” Daniel stared at him incredulously, “Since when?”

“A dinner party,” Lucius corrected, “and it’s only for about a dozen guests -”

“Twelve people? You’re having a dinner party for twelve people? When?” And why haven’t you mentioned it before now? Daniel wanted to add. But then, he thought worriedly, maybe Lucius didn’t want him there? After all, perhaps his ‘associates’, as he called them, thought he was still happily married?

“Erind will do all the cooking,” Lucius explained, “and if you bring that rather sick looking plant with you -”

“I’m coming? I mean,” Daniel blushed and took a step back.

“What? Of course you’re coming!” Lucius caught him and pulled him back in close. “That is, if you want to? I wanted to show you off at Christmas but...”

“Yeah,” Daniel frowned, remembering. He sighed and then lifted clear brown eyes with a smile, “I’d like that – if you promise that I won’t be out of place.”

“You won’t.”

“And I don’t have to cook?”

“All you have to do is be gorgeous,” Lucius smiled.

“Really?” Daniel frowned uncertainly, “I’m not sure -”

“Baby boy, you would look delectable in a pillowcase... or a duvet,” he added thoughtfully as his eyes glinted with a sudden lust.

“A duvet?” Daniel smirked at him.

“Hmm... silk sheets... cool...” Lucius began kissing the edge of his jaw.

“Slippery,” Daniel commented and tipped his head back to encourage the kisses towards his throat.

*~*~*

By Saturday evening, Harry had buried his concerns about the summer holidays and was sitting with Ron and Neville in the common room while Hermione, Ginny and countless other girls in the fifth, sixth and seventh years busied themselves with getting ready.

“Tell me again,” Ron complained loudly, “why does it take a girl three hours to get ready?”

“Well, there’s the bath,” Dean advised from nearby, “that takes an hour in itself. Not to mention washing their hair.”

“And drying it. With various potions,” Neville added, thinking of Luna’s long blonde hair. He had no doubt that she was also taking plenty of time to get ready.

“And then there’s make up,” Harry interjected. He’d overheard Lavender and Parvati discussing lipstick shades at breakfast.

“And clothes... yeah, I know.” Ron sighed. He looked down at his own attire of blue shirt (a Christmas present from Hermione) and navy trousers beneath the open blue-black robes. “It took me no longer than half an hour to shower, shave and get dressed. Do I look any the worse for it?”

“Hmm...” Neville tilted his head and eyed his friend critically, “You forgot your eyeshadow!”

As Ron threw a cushion across the room, Harry made a decision and stood up.

“I’m going to go on,” he announced quietly.

“Oh yeah,” Dean leered at him, “your date’s meeting you at the gates because he doesn’t go to Hogwarts. You going to tell us who he is or how you met him?”

Harry just smiled however and ducked his head, avoiding Ron’s eyes. He knew his friend was unhappy that Harry hadn’t told him anything about his ‘date’ but he couldn’t risk anyone finding out that Sirius was in Hogsmeade. As it was, Sirius was going to be in disguise – thanks to the assistance of Tonks.

*~*~*

“Okay, I’m done.” Tonks announced and stood back to survey her work.

“Can I look in a mirror now?” Sirius asked with a small bite of impatience.

They were standing in his and Remus’ bedroom and Tonks had deliberately covered the full length mirror on the wardrobe; claiming that the process wasn’t pretty and she didn’t want her cousin to change his mind half way through.

So with a little tut, she pulled the cover off the wardrobe door and made to step back. There was a sad little crunch as she did so, however and Sirius bent to rescue the broken toy.

“Oscar’s,” he explained, tapping the toy with his wand and murmuring a swift “Reparo” over it. He straightened then and halted, staring at himself in the mirror.

“Oh wow!” he breathed and stepped forward, peering at his reflection and touching his face with curious fingertips. “This is amazing, Tonks!” he grinned at her.

“It’s just a variation on a glamour,” his cousin shrugged. “To remove it, you just say the password and you’ll be yourself again a second.”

“What’s the password?”

From beyond the bedroom door, came the sound of footsteps and Remus calling. “Siri, apparently Oscar’s going on about his Miggs pyjamas and Jenna doesn’t know where they are. She’s firecalling from Southampton. Have you -?”

As the door swung open, Remus stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his partner.

“Moony?” Sirius said after a minute of utter silence.

“Oh gods, it’s your voice but... wow!” Remus gaped, “I thought you were gorgeous before but... now...”

“You really like it?” Sirius looked at himself again. He pushed at the heavy reddish-brown fringe and blinked dark brown eyes at his reflection before turning to look once more at Remus.

“Um…” Tonks spoke into the charged silence, “I’ll just go and see if... um... Right!” And with that, she slipped quickly out the door, just stumbling slightly over the carpet. And then she was back again. “Forgot to tell you: the password is Remus’ middle name - thought you’d remember that easily enough! And don’t forget to change your voice before you leave the house.”

Sirius grinned after her and then turned towards his lover again, looking worried.

“This is so strange.” Remus shook his head and stepped nearer, “You sound like you but you look like – I don’t know!”

“But you like?”

“Siri,” Remus chuckled, “that’s impossible to answer. If I say yes, you might accuse me of fancying other men. But if I say no...” he drew a deep breath, “then I’d be lying.”

Sirius laughed and stepped closer, “I get the message.” He grinned then and pressed close to kiss him.

Several minutes later, Remus stumbled slightly as the kiss ended. “You should... you should – um – probably go. You’ll be late.”

*~*~*

“Leaving so soon?” Snape’s voice halted him before he’d even made it half way across the Entrance Hall. Harry turned slowly and favoured the Potions master with a cool, patient gaze.

“I’m meeting -” Harry started to say and then hesitated. “Um – the others all have dates from Hogwarts.”

“And you don’t?” Snape raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m meeting someone,” Harry responded and then looked up in shock at the belt of intense jealousy from the Potions master.

“Does the Headmaster know of this?” Snape asked pointedly, “Is he aware that you’re arranging these little trysts; that you’re trotting off blithely into who-knows-what trouble?”

Harry sighed and tilted his head. “Yes, he knows!” he growled, “And I’m not trotting off into any kind of trouble. But since when do you care what I do?” he demanded scathingly.

“As I’m sure I told you on the day that you destroyed my classroom,” Snape snarled in barely more than a whisper, “I happen to care a great deal about you.”

For a second, Harry just blinked at him and then Snape announced in a louder, clearer voice, “Well, I’m afraid, Potter, that I can’t permit you to wander off on your own,” he waited a beat as Harry’s jaw dropped and then went on, “so I will accompany you, see you safely to your... companion and then I’ll return to Hogwarts once I know that you’re safe.”

“What?” Harry stared at him. “You want to -? Oh, no way! You just want to find out who I’m meeting!” ‘And then,’ he added silently for Snape’s ears only, ‘you no doubt want to interrogate them. What, are you going to ask if their intentions towards me are honourable?’ All the while, he was very carefully concealing the true identity of his so called ‘date’. When Snape realised that Harry was only meeting Sirius... well, right then, Harry wanted to see that expression of chagrin on the Potion master’s face.

Even so, a small voice said from within, it would be interesting to find out just what Snape was really feeling right now. And, trying to be subtle, he pressed tentatively at gaining an idea of the other man’s thoughts and emotions.

“Don’t do that,” Snape remarked in disgust. “I don’t have any kind of ulterior motive; I simply want to ensure that you don’t get into trouble again.”

‘I don’t need a baby-sitter,’ Harry growled silently at him. As the Potions master stepped towards the front doors, however, Harry fell into step beside him without much reluctance.

They walked in silence until they reached the gates and, here, Snape turned to look at Harry and asked casually, “So what’s this idiot’s name, then?”

Harry regarded him with cool detachment and then asked, “Why do you care? Jealous?”

‘Harry,’ Draco cautioned, his thoughts coming to him from the castle behind, ‘don’t wind him up.’

‘Hey!’ Harry promptly sent back, ‘He’s the one calling my date an idiot and if he’d just calm down for a minute, he’d see who I was -’

But Snape interrupted him at that point; turning with cool disdain. “Mr Potter, I care nothing for however you choose to exorcise yourself of excess teenage hormones,”

“Could’ve fooled me a few months ago.” Harry interjected.

“But I think I should know the person over whom you intend to dribble, this evening, so that at least I can -”

“Oh Merlin’s bollocks!” Harry shouted in exasperation, stealing one of Ron’s favourite expressions. “Will you give it a rest? I’m hardly going to introduce you! You’ll take one look and declare that he’s not good enough or something.”

“And maybe I would,” Snape retorted, sounding equally vexed. “Maybe I really feel that no one’s good enough!”

“Not even Draco?” Harry raised his eyebrows. When Snape didn’t immediately respond, Harry threw his hands up in the air and stalked around in a tight circle. As he did so, he took the opportunity to look up and down the lane but there was no sign of Sirius yet. Was he early?

“Draco is perhaps the only one I would be happy to share you with,” Snape said then, speaking quietly. A second later and he realised what he’d said, just as Harry did.

Unfortunately, Sirius Apparated beside Harry at just that moment. The sudden appearance of a strikingly attractive man who appeared to be in his early twenties caused two reactions in Harry. The first was to leap back with a startled oath, a spell (unfortunately Dark) on his lips, just in case. At the same time, however, some part of him recognised that this stranger was just oozing raw sex appeal.

“Whoa!” Harry uttered, without thinking.

The stranger looked surprised at first and then grinned with the self-assurance of one who knows he’s drop dead gorgeous. And when Snape made a low, snarling growl of intense dislike, the stranger’s grin dropped into a smirk and his eyes glinted for a moment…

“Snuffles?” Harry stared at the man in astonishment.

The brown eyes twinkled mischievously at him then and Harry was left in no doubt.

*~*~*

The door to Snape’s private quarters slammed closed as the man stormed through, marched straight to his cabinet, stared for a moment at the assorted half bottles of single malts and then abruptly changed his mind. After all, if Albus chose to come down here tonight, it wouldn’t do for him to find his Potions master severely inebriated once again. And given that Harry was out on a date – Snape’s lip curled at the thought – it wouldn’t do to be seen drowning his sorrows.

Instead then, Snape turned to his bookshelf and browsed through the newest editions, with the idea that he could inflict some hideous test on the sixth year Potions class on Monday. Nothing like questions concerning the benefits and disadvantages of certain rare potion ingredients to draw a young man’s attention away from his latest beau, he sneered.

However, he was distracted by the book ‘The Ancient Portrayal of Spells and Their Origins, Volume II’; the sister to the book that he’d left at home. He hadn’t looked at it in an age and he stared at it now in quiet consideration. In all that had happened with Black and Lupin’s unexpected arrival and all that had blown up after that, he’d given little thought to Draco’s gift or the rings from the Legion Device, as it had come to be known.

He pulled the book from its position on the shelf and carried it to his armchair whilst gazing thoughtfully at the gold ring on his little finger.

“Such a little thing,” he murmured to the ring and thought of the power within it. With crystal clarity, he recalled invoking the second part of the Nameless spell and how the rings had flared simultaneously. From there, he remembered being consumed by the urge to take Harry (and possibly his ward as well) there on the floor of the training room. Only his own strength of will had broken the enchantment of the rings and he knew from what he’d since observed that both Draco and Harry were unsure as to whether it had all been a spell-induced dream.

Snape, however, knew the truth and remembered too the feelings he’d felt on the night when Draco had given the Legion Device to himself and Harry. Flooded with sense memories of Draco in his arms, he’d kissed his ward and –

With a little shake of his head, Snape opened the book and settled back to research whatever information was available.

*~*~*

The Three Broomsticks was seriously over-crowded and looking around, Harry saw that it was mostly full of Hogwarts students; the usual local crowd having evidently chosen to go elsewhere tonight.

“So when did those two finally get it together?” Sirius asked, nodding to where Ron and Hermione were firmly ensconced in a corner of the pub.

“Oh, since last summer, I think,” Harry smiled, glancing briefly at them, meeting Ron’s eyes and seeing Hermione giving Sirius an assessing sort of look. He looked at Sirius himself and shook his head, “You have no idea how weird this is,” he shook his head. “I can’t believe I fancy my own godfather!”

“Hey!” Sirius took a step back, making contact with the edge of the bar. “Spoken for, remember? And you don’t have to tell me about weird! Imagine how it felt when I went to the loo, earlier! I went to wash my hands and found this stranger staring at me out of the mirror.”

Harry laughed softly and finished his drink. “Another?” he gestured with the empty glass. At Sirius’ nod, he gestured to the barmaid for two more butterbeers.

“Have you tried this?” Madam Rosmerta asked, stepping forward before the barmaid could take Harry’s order. She held up two bottles and Harry read, ‘Butterbeer Special Brew’.

With a smile, he shook his head and then paid for the bottles. When he turned back to Sirius, he found his godfather trying hard not to laugh. “What?”

“You,” Sirius smirked wickedly. “Those two,” he nodded to Madam Rosmerta and the younger barmaid, “have been vying for your attention all evening and you’ve been completely oblivious.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry shrugged, leading them over to a recently vacated table, “I’m not really looking for a girlfriend. They’re not my thing.” As he spoke, he made brief eye contact with Draco and gave a small smile.

Sirius followed his gaze to where the blond Slytherin was sitting with Greg. Crabbe and Hannah Abbott shared their table too. “Would you have him back?” he asked very quietly.

Harry stared down at the table for a long moment and then took a swig of his drink. It was definitely stronger, with a dark malty flavour. “I adore him,” he said even quieter than Sirius, causing his godfather to lean close to hear, “but he’s with Greg now and I have no right to want him back.”

“But he’d understand.” Sirius shook his head, dark brown eyes wide. “If he loves you half as much as I reckon he does, what’s the problem?” However, on seeing his godson’s face, he drew his own answer and growled, “Snape.”

“Don’t.” Harry said in a low voice. “I know how you feel about him and there are times when I can really sympathise. But I can’t help it. How would you feel if someone said you couldn’t love Moony? It’s no different.” He added before Sirius could argue.

“It is, though.” Sirius shrugged. “Moony and I are the same age, more or less. And he was never my professor!”

“Snape wouldn’t always be my professor,” Harry countered. “But this is a pointless conversation because Snape wouldn’t risk his job for me and... well...”

“And Draco’s made his mind up, in any case.” Sirius concluded, looking to where Draco and Greg were walking out the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Harry called silently after Draco.

‘For a walk,’ Draco responded and he sent back a sense of quiet excitement that drew a blush to Harry’s cheeks.

‘Why not just go to bed?’ he asked but received no response.

*~*~*

The evening progressed and, having got past such tricky issues as Snape, Draco and sexual preferences, Harry found that he and Sirius were getting on very well. It was amusing, too, he thought, that his godfather was drawing so many friendly and downright flirtatious smiles from his assorted classmates.

“This is fun,” Sirius grinned as a group of seventh year lads edged slowly past their table. When they’d gone, he added, “I feel like I’m eighteen again!”

“Hmm...” Harry waved a hand dubiously. “More like twenty-two. What were you doing when you were twenty-two?” he asked without thinking.

Immediately, Sirius’ grin dropped off his face and he picked moodily at the label on his beer. “For most of the year, I was fighting with Re – Moony. For the rest of it, I was in Azkaban.”

“Fighting with -? Why would you fight with... I mean,” Harry shook his head, hating himself for digging this hole in the first place.

Sirius took a long pull from his drink and sighed. “There were things going on – talk of a spy – and, well...”

“Remus thought it was you?” Harry blurted before he could stop himself. Fortunately, at this late hour, there was no one near enough to hear him.

“No.” Sirius shook his head with a frown. “I suspected Moony. I had it in my head that he was cheating on me – he was so close to Lily...” A moment later and he realised what he’d said and shook his head again, harder. “Oh crap, Harry! I’m too pissed to have this conversation! Just let it be said that things were pretty bloody awful and wherever my head was, I wasn’t thinking straight!”

“I’m sorry.” Harry murmured and paused for a moment.

Something... strange had just come to him along the telepathic link. Sending a thought back, however, he couldn’t pinpoint whether it had been Snape or Draco. He raised his hand to halt Sirius as the man was about to say that an apology wasn’t necessary and then sent out another thought.

‘Draco?’

No words came back but a dizzying sense of ecstasy and exhilaration drew an involuntary groan of pleasure from his throat.

“Er... Harry?” Sirius was staring at him.

Embarrassed beyond words and feeling even more so when he realised that his cock was suddenly pressing hard and full against his jeans, Harry tried to focus on the here and now.

“Um... Draco and Greg appear to be...” he blushed even more then when his godfather started laughing.

“I knew that spell would lead to trouble!” Sirius grinned. “Can you hear them?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “I can just feel – Sirius!” he scolded upon realising just what his godfather had almost coaxed out of him. “I’d better get back,” he said then, “while I can still walk.”

“I’ll see you back,” Sirius smirked and stood to leave.

*~*~*

Snape finished the text he was reading and lingered for several minutes, trying to guess at whatever the author had been trying to say. It wasn’t easy. The book had been written a very long time ago and it seemed that the vogue of the time had been to simply allude to various opinions but never to come to the point. Consequently, this meant that any reference to the Legion Device, the rings and the curious inscription was wrapped in mist and cloying, honeyed language.

He was just closing the book when the Dark Mark on his forearm burned for an instant, catching his attention. He pulled up his sleeve and stared at it for a long moment, remembering a time when he, even as a spy, would have responded instantly by Apparating to Voldemort’s side.

He sighed and gestured to the drinks cabinet. “Accio Glen Moray! Accio glass!”

Unfortunately, a sudden surge of energy crackled around him and, although he managed to catch the flying bottle of whisky, he missed the glass and ducked just in time as it shattered against the wall behind him.

‘Damn it, Draco!’ he snarled silently, for his ward had been the source of the surge. For ten minutes, he’d been trying hard to ignore the boy’s amorous encounter with Goyle in the woods between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and now this!

When no response came back to him, though, he paused and closed his eyes; the better to locate the younger man.

‘Draco?’

And then, fleetingly, he caught a sense of disorientation, giddiness and... fear. Snape didn’t wait to learn any more but leapt out of his chair and ran out into the corridors.

*~*~*

“Harry?” Sirius enquired uncertainly, “Are you ill?”

Just as they were heading out of the village, Harry had suddenly doubled over with a low groan and was now crouched and panting, hand against his forehead. Sirius crouched beside him and rested a hand on his godson’s shoulder.

“Scar,” Harry wheezed and squeezed his eyes shut as if that might help.

At once, Sirius was on his feet with his wand held tightly as he stared around at the darkened street. Nothing looked in the least bit threatening, however. The last of the students were wending their way home and one or two were giving Harry cautious glances.

“Too much to drink,” Sirius supplied, wanting them to move on as quickly as possible. He then bent low and said to Harry, “Come on – we’ll go back to my house. It’s nearer and safer than just hanging around out here.”

With a nod, Harry managed to make it to his feet and then allowed Sirius to help him back towards Market Street. It wasn’t far and they were almost at the steps leading to the front door when a surge of magic rocked Harry against his godfather’s side.

“Oops! Hold on there,” Sirius started to say but halted when he saw Harry’s face.

“Draco,” Harry said aloud, perhaps without meaning to. He turned then and looked back the way they’d come, back towards the lane and Hogwarts in the distance.

“Harry? What is it?”

‘Harry!’ Draco’s voice broke through, sounding desperate, angry and frightened. ‘Har -!’

Without pausing to explain, Harry spun on his heel and ran. There was no choice, no question; he didn’t even seem to give the signal to his feet. One second he was standing with Sirius, the next he was running as fast as he possibly could... with Sirius close behind him!