Dearest Harry - Eileen's Story

A/N Sorry that is has been so long since I updated. I have been away and completing another story and RL has been scarily busy! Thanks to Anne and Branny for betaing.

Warning this chapter has a cliffy, twenty will be up as soon as it comes back from my second beta. If you don't like cliffys don't read it yet!


Nineteen

When Severus awoke, he felt distinctly uncomfortable; he had a crick in his neck and his back felt like someone had tied a knot in it. He really hated these camp beds and was determined that if he could help it, he was never going to sleep on one again. The floor would have been better. The trouble was that these particular beds belonged to the Black household, and Severus thought that maybe Mrs Black herself or one of her odious, twisted house-elves had spelled them so that they could not be transformed. Because no matter how strong the spell upon them, or indeed the caster of the spell, they always returned to saggy canvas and warped metal as soon as their occupant was asleep.

He stiffly got to his feet, he was not in a good mood, in fact, he was in a particularly bad one. Not a good sign, as he knew he had to have a word with Harry later on, and he was definitely not looking forward to that particular confrontation.

But first, he thought he would go and wake Lupin. He cast Tempus, to check the time. 6:47 am, well past sunrise. the werewolf was safe to be around again for another month. He made his way to the cell in which Lupin had been locked, and entered. Lupin sat on the mattress, obviously awaiting release. The mattress had just about been destroyed. Severus felt uncomfortable, he found that somehow, he couldn’t quite meet Remus’ eyes.

“Good morning Lupin, how are you this morning?” he asked. The werewolf gave him a tired, wearisome look.

“I feel like I look, Severus,” he said dryly. Severus almost winced, if that were, true then Lupin must really be feeling awful. The year that Lupin had been teaching at Hogwarts, Severus had been the one who would check on the werewolf the morning after his transformation; he had always looked absolutely dreadful; it had usually taken him days to get over the exhaustion that the change always wrought in him. But today he looked worse than dreadful and Severus surprised himself by feeling quite sorry for him.

“I’m, er, sorry that you had such a bad night,” he said. He felt deeply uncomfortable around the werewolf, surrounded by evidence of his terrible monthly alteration. “It’s time to wake Draco,” Severus continued. “But first I have to tell you that,….um….. something happened last night, and I don’t quite know how to explain it.”

“If you mean that Harry spent the night with Draco but only after he had transformed into some sort of animal, and that later, after they were both human again, they interacted sexually, twice; then don’t worry, Severus. I already know.”

Severus’ jaw dropped open.

Lupin stared at him expressionlessly. “I am a werewolf Severus. I might turn into a mindless beast once a month, but I do have an excellent sense of smell.”

Severus sat down heavily on the ruined mattress beside Lupin. He didn’t quite know what to say. The young Mr Potter had obviously had a very busy night indeed! Not only had he managed some very powerful magic, he had obviously been experimenting with Draco Malfoy.

“But he is only seventeen!” he exclaimed, almost wincing as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Remus just looked at him again, steadily.

“We were only fifteen Severus, weren’t we?”

Severus couldn’t meet his eyes again.

“Yes!” he spat, bitterly. “And look how well that ended, Lupin!”

He made to stand up again, but the werewolf put his hand on Severus’ arm, “Severus, please. Don’t turn away, don’t do this again. It wasn’t my fault. I know you blame me. I would have told you eventually, really I would have. I didn’t want you to find out like that, I swear that I didn’t.”

For a moment, Severus almost relented. He had never loved anyone the way that he had loved Remus. Remus was his first love, his first lover. But then Black had…. Severus did not want to think about it anymore. For a moment he heard the pleading tone in Remus’, in Lupin’s voice. For a moment he almost gave in, let go of his anger, his bitterness, but then he remembered that Lupin had his pink-haired metamorphmagus lover didn’t he. Why would he want an embittered spy on the run from just about everyone? So he roughly pulled his arm from the werewolf’s grip and stood up before he could touch him again.

“I suggest you pull yourself together Lupin. We so that we can go and wake those boys.”

With that he stalked out of Lupin’s cell, his robe flying out behind him.

Harry had a smile on his face. He could feel it spreading, smug and self satisfied. Harry had never in his life before worn a smile like that. Last night, he had lost his virginity. Well not completely, but near enough. He had certainly had sex - hot, passionate, loving sex. And with Draco Malfoy! Harry felt warm and fuzzy and quite insufferably smug. Last night with Draco had allayed so many of his fears. Being gay didn’t seem to be as big a problem in the wizarding world as he had thought it might be. Maybe everyone wouldn’t turn against him, and even when Draco got fed up with him, well at least he would have had the experience.

Draco was still wrapped around him. It felt wonderful, all that silky skin, pressed against his body, warm and soft. Harry felt himself hardening again, and he idly wondered for a moment if he were turning into some sort of sex fiend.

But then the door of the cell burst open, and Severus Snape came barging in.

“Well, well Mr Potter. It seems that some of us had a very busy night last night. Didn’t we?”

Harry blushed a deep brick red and looked away. The expression in Snape’s eyes had wounded Harry. Snape seemed to be infuriated with him; his whole demeanour betrayed his dislike, in Harry’s opinion. He had to firmly quash a tendril of hurt at the Professor’s behaviour. Maybe he was disgusted, or maybe Malfoy was wrong about how the wizarding world viewed homosexuality after all?

“Well I don’t know about you Professor,” drawled a voice beside him. “But Harry and I managed to keep ourselves occupied.”

Snape narrowed his eyes and glared at them.

“I think it is time for you to get up,” he hissed. “I will see you in the kitchen in ten minutes.”

“No.” Harry spoke this time,. He could not believe he had said anything and obviously, from the flare of Snape’s nostrils and the sneer that twisted his lips, neither could the Professor.

“I beg your pardon?” he said in apparent astonishment.

“I said no,” Harry answered. He was still somewhat red from his mammoth blushing session, but he held his chin up and glared back at his former teacher, trying to cling onto as much dignity as he could whilst lying on an old mattress, completely naked, covered only by a somewhat threadbare blanket and being held in the arms of an equally naked Malfoy.

“Draco and I are going to shower, change into clean clothes and, only when we are ready, will we come to the kitchen. You have no power over me any more Professor. You cannot make me do anything that I do not wish to do. I am an adult; and no longer your student. Please close the door on your way out. And next time you want to speak to me when I am in a room with the door shut, I suggest that you knock before you enter.”

Snape looked astonished. But he said nothing; he merely turned abruptly swirling his robes, rather like a pantomime villain thought Harry idly, and slammed the door shut behind him.

For a moment or two, neither he nor Draco said anything, and then they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Both of them had had several tongue-lashings from the dour Potions Master in the past, and it felt good to finally be able to stand up to him at last. But once the giggles were over, Harry had to stifle a feeling of deep sadness. He had really thought things were going to be better between him and Snape now. However, the man had looked at him with such anger, such contempt, that Harry knew that things were in truth no easier than they had ever been between them. Snape obviously thought Harry to be pretty worthless, and for the second time in five minutes, he had to quash a tendril of hurt at the Professor’s actions.

Severus was pacing the kitchen, waiting for the boys to come down. He could have kicked himself. He should not have gone barging into their room like that. He should have waited until he had calmed down from his little confrontation with Lupin before going to see Harry. When he had snapped at him, he had spotted the flash of hurt in the boy’s eyes at the way he had spoken. He had thought they were reaching an understanding between the two of them, but obviously things were still quite fragile, and he had just trampled all over the delicate trust that they had been building, hadn’t he?

The room was filling with people as it was getting late, but there was still no sign of Harry or Draco. Molly was busily cooking her way through a pile of sausages and bacon, Eileen had gone into the back garden with a pile of washing that needed pinning on the line and several Weasley’s were sitting at the kitchen table at which Ron was laying out cutlery. The household was waking up and Severus was desperately holding on to the fragments of his temper.

Harry sloped in refusing to meet anyone’s eye. He sat somewhere about the middle of the table, beside Hermione, and glared over at Severus. Malfoy sat beside him, also scowling.

Severus felt himself sigh.

“Well Mr Potter,” he said as calmly as he could, “You had quite a busy evening, didn’t you? Care to tell us about it?”

The look that Harry shot him could have curdled milk.

“You have to realise Harry,” Severus continued. “You can’t just risk yourself on stunts such as the one you pulled off last night. You are important in the fight against the Dark Lord, what on Earth would have happened if you had not managed a successful transformation? You may well have ended up as a werewolf yourself, you foolish child! Just because you are powerful it does not mean that you are invincible.”

Severus did not mean to sound sarcastic, really he didn’t. He just wanted Harry to realise that although he was quite impressed by what the boy had managed. He wanted him to realise that Severus worried about him when he threw caution to the wind like that.

Severus had a lot of experience with teenagers, but he had never cared about one before, as he was coming to care for Harry. So, in retrospect, he knew that perhaps he could have worded things a little better, but it was too late. They were out there now, those words, and they had sounded sarcastic. He had sounded like he thought that the boy was only important in the battle against Voldemort, and after their earlier spat, he really should have at least let the boy have a drink of juice and something to eat before he’d said anything. But it was too late now.

Harry’s eyes were flashing; everyone else stopped what they were doing to watch the battle that was about to take place.

Harry stood up.

“I am so sorry, Professor,” he began. “Did I foolishly put your precious weapon in danger? I am so sorry, silly me! But Draco was screaming. He was in agony and I couldn’t leave him alone.”

“Of course you could!” Severus snapped, still feeling rather guilty that he had abandoned Draco as he had. “I did! I had to - there was no other option. You should not have gone into that cell with out at least practicing the transformation beforehand! It was tantamount to suicide! How do you think your grandmother would feel if she lost you now you foolish child? She has just found you again. Don’t you ever think of anyone but yourself?”

Severus could hear his own voice rising in frustration; he was getting angry now. Hhe thought of how devastated his mother would be if she lost Harry. He thought with a pang, of how awful he himself would feel, if he lost the boy before he truly got to know him.

The occupants of the kitchen were watching him with astonishment. They had no idea what he was talking about, of course, and the only other person beside Draco who had an inkling of what Harry had risked, of what Harry had achieved the night before was Lupin, who didn’t even know what Harry’s animagus form was.

Harry was breathing heavily. He was glaring at Severus. “How dare you?” he hissed. “You have no right to talk to me like that! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I have been fighting to survive since I was a small child, against everyone, against my relatives, against evil bastards who want to kill me. I didn’t take any risks last night; I was ready before I went into Draco’s cell. I knew I could do it, and I couldn’t leave him alone. I couldn’t bear it. I know what its like.” His voice cracked on the last word.

“Don’t be ridiculous boy!” Severus shouted. “You are not on your own any more. You have us now.”

He saw Harry flinch when he used the word boy, and he realised too late that he should not have said it. Even when he used it in a fairly gentle way a couple of times, Harry had obviously felt uncomfortable. To use it now when tensions were running high was almost unforgivable.

“Do I? I have you now. Well lucky me! I saw the look you gave me Professor when you saw me in bed with Draco, like I was dirty, somehow perverted. That’s how you’ve always looked at me, isn’t it? Like I was filth, not worth very much? You can’t help me Professor, no one can. Dumbledore gave me a job to do and I have to do it, and the only way you can help me, the only way, is by backing the fuck off! By fucking well leaving me alone!”

The last sentence was shouted, Harry was loosing control. Dishes were beginning to shake on the shelves, the chairs were clattering around the table, some of them depositing their occupants onto the floor.

“Look what you are doing you stupid child! Severus shouted as a glass jar exploded, sending shards all over the floor. How do you expect to defeat the Dark Lord, destroy the Horcruxes if you can’t even control your own emotions?” Severus could see Harry’s restraint slipping. He had to stop things before they got any more out of control

Harry was staring at him, eyes wide, fists clenched. “You know about the Horcruxes?” he asked, quietly. “Dumbledore said not to mention it to anybody.”

“Of course I know about the Horcruxes. How on earth do you expect to destroy them on your own? You can’t control your magic, or your impulses come to that. You have got this far on luck and a lot of hard work on behalf of everyone who has been watching out for you. But you don’t care about that, do you? All you care about is fucking Draco Malfoy!”

As soon as he had said it, Severus wished that he could call back his words. He had meant to tell the others about Harry’s prowess at transformation. He had meant to get the boy to sit back down and listen, and he would have explained how he had decided that Harry should not have to struggle on alone with the destruction of the Horcruxes, that Dumbledore had been wrong to lay such a weight on his shoulders, that despite his recent birthday, he was still so young, still only a child. Then later, he would have taken Harry aside and talked about his relationship with Draco and ensured that he was taking precautions, that he knew what he was doing.

But instead, he had got caught up again in the boy’s resemblance to James and had felt angry at his thoughtlessness, when they were all risking so much for him.

But Harry had gone white. He was trembling. “You told them about the Horcruxes?” he asked so quietly that Severus barely heard him. “Dumbledore said not to.”

“Dumbledore was wrong. You are too immature to cope with such a burden.”

Harry looked then as if Severus had slapped him, his eyes filled with tears.

He had not meant it to come out like that. He had meant to say that Harry was too young, that they would help him, but it had come out incorrectly, confused. Severus wanted to bite his tongue. He hadn’t slept, and he had had to deal with that incident with Remus. He should have not decided to speak to Harry right now, emotions were running too high. He cursed his stupidity, his own impulse control.

“Harry, I...,” he began, but Harry was backing away.

“You told them about the Horcruxes. You had no right without discussing it with me first and now, and now, you’ve just told everyone about me and Draco. Now they all know I’m gay, and they’ll hate me. What did I ever do to you Professor Snape that you hate me so much?”

Harry was crying now, sobbing openly. He was shaking and rubbing the heels of his hands across his eyes desperately trying to stem the tears.

“Why do you hate me?” Harry repeated. “Last night was my first time, and it was lovely, it was beautiful, and you’ve spoiled it, you’ve told everyone.” He had fallen to his knees. He seemed to have forgotten that it was he who mentioned the fact that he was in bed with Draco. Everyone else seemed frozen, horrified by what was occurring. Severus wanted to go to the boy, comfort him, tell him he was sorry.

“Don’t touch me!” Harry screamed as he drew close. “Don’t you fucking touch me! I just wanted to be normal. To have a chance of life before I have to face him, before I have to die!”

“You won’t die.” Severus said. He didn’t understand why Harry was so upset about everyone knowing he was gay - what was wrong with that? “It’ll be okay Harry. You are so powerful, you have every chance of living. We won’t let you face him until you are ready, and then we’ll all be there too. We have vowed to be.”

Harry stood up and looked at Severus scathingly. “You don’t get it do you, Professor? You don’t get it at all? I am going to die. Draco couldn’t kill me, he is not powerful enough, and it would not have mattered if I had been turned into a werewolf, I might not even make it to the next full moon.”

“You want to talk about Horcruxes Professor? Fine, why don’t we do that? There were seven weren’t there, seven parts of soul? One is still in him.” Harry looked defiant, trembling with fury, counting on his fingers. “One was the diary, one is the locket, one was Slytherin’s ring. We think that one is Rowena’s wand, that’s why Ollivander disappeared. Its probably in his shop somewhere. One is Helga’s cup, and that just leaves one more, doesn’t it? Dumbledore thought it was Nagini, but he was wrong.

“Voldemort set out to make a Horcrux the night that my parents died. He was going to use Godric’s sword, in Godric’s Hollow, and he was going to use my death, the death of his rival. He cast the spell, and then he hexed me. But it didn’t work, did it? He didn’t kill me. But he still made the Horcrux because other people died that night, my Mum and Dad died.”

Severus knew he must have looked confused because Harry laughed, coldly, bitterly.

“Don’t you get it Professor,” he said, eyes full of pain. “I’m the last Horcrux. In order to defeat Voldemort I have to die too.”

Someone screamed, Severus thought it was Molly.

“Harry I...I…I’m sorry,” He began, but Harry cut him off.

“Just spare me the fucking platitudes!” But Severus could not bear the look of despair that had crossed his nephew’s face. He reached forward to grasp Harry’s shoulder, and, without warning, Harry transformed.

Severus found himself pinned under the weight of a very unhappy, full-grown, awesomely powerful lion.

Several people screamed this time

Severus literally could not move. He was completely trapped beneath an enormously powerful magical creature.

Harry stared down at him, growling softly. He looked around at the occupants of the kitchen, many of whom were frozen in horror, before he opened his powerful jaws and let out an enormous roar. With no more ado, he turned and loped from the room, leaving Severus in a crumpled heap in the middle of the kitchen floor.