The Death of a Soul

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Chapter Twenty One

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It was two days after the “incident” in the infirmary that Harry decided to rejoin his classmates in school. He couldn’t stand being locked up in that place he was supposed to call “home”. Perhaps the demands on him would diminish. Little did he know that it only increased his husband’s desire.

As always, the entire school sitting in the Great Hall watched him as he entered and he quickly took his seat at the Gryffindor table. Even after all this time, the gawking still embarrassed Harry. He sat quietly beside Ron and across from Hermione. His two friends didn’t know quite what to say so they remained silent and just observed Harry, pretending not to observe him of course. It was fifteen minutes later that finally Harry spoke.

“I understand you helped in finding a solution to my…problem,” Harry stated to Hermione.

The young witch was surprised that he actually wanted to talk about this so soon, but answered anyway.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Harry nodded, eyes focused on his breakfast plate. “So you know.”

Hermione’s cheek flushed. “Yes,” she said even quieter still.

Harry nodded again. “And you, Ron?” he asked still not looking up.

“Yes,” the redhead said shyly.

Harry didn’t speak for a couple of minutes. “Does everyone know then?” Harry asked flatly.

Hermione leaned over the table. “No!” she quickly said, lowering her voice.

Harry sighed. “But my two best friends do.”

The young witch bit her lip, too embarrassed to answer and Ron looked away, closing his eyes. Another few minutes went by.

“Thank you,” Harry muttered.

Hermione’s eyes teared up. She said the only thing she could think of. “I love you, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes pierced shut. The words echoed in his mind. “I love, Harry.” He didn’t have to look over to see Ron nodding in agreement. He knew he was. He sighed. He wondered if they knew what he had to do after the exchange of the new vows. But he was too afraid to ask. He was mortified enough. Harry did know one thing though. His husband was watching them.


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His first class of the day was Double Potions and it took every ounce of courage Harry had left in him to walk through the doors. He kept his head lowered and ignored all the whispers around him. He wished the day was over already. Not surprisingly, Hermione and Ron were told to stay after the lesson.

Once the room was empty, Snape addressed the two of them.

“I asked to speak to you regarding Harry. As you can see by his behaviour today, he’s going to need his friends support and understanding to recover,” Severus said simply.

“Of course, Professor,” Hermione said.

“Severus, please.” Hermione nodded but Ron frowned. “What I’d like to ask you both is to let him heal naturally.”

“What?” Ron cried in disbelief.

“Please hear me out, Ron. You know Harry, as well as I do. More so even. And you know that he hates pity. He doesn’t want everyone to coddle him. I’m positive that he wants nothing more than to be left alone. I’m asking you to honour his wishes.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks. “But, sir…Severus…Harry needs…” she began.

“I know your intentions are in his best interest, Hermione. However, Harry needs to sort this out by himself. Just be there to listen to him if he decides to talk. I know he will eventually.” He glanced between his two frowning students. “What he needs right now is your love and support. Give him that. Don’t pretend that nothing has happened, but surround him with a sense of normalcy instead. He needs to feel like he still belongs to this school. Help him with that.”

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other again. Was Snape really serious? To carry on without comforting Harry? Act like nothing unusual has happened? No. He wasn’t serious. Was he?

“Please do this for Harry. I know he will appreciate it.”

The man was serious. Hermione barely nodded but Ron narrowed his eyes.

“Thank you.” Severus looked over to the clock. “You best go now. Wouldn’t want you late for your next lesson.”

The two left reluctantly - still not wholly convinced - but knew a dismissal when they heard it.


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Two weeks had passed and life at Hogwarts did go on as usual. No one spoke to Harry about the day he had almost died. No one. Not even Severus. As the days went by, Hermione and Ron noticed a change in Harry and it wasn’t a good change. He had grown more and more distant from everything and everyone. Especially them. It began to eat Hermione alive and Ron grew angrier with each passing second. Clearly Snape's advice wasn’t working.

At the start of the third week, the two of them confronted Snape after breakfast.

“What the hell is going on?” Ron blurted out.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed. She looked over to Severus. “Sir, we’re concerned about Harry. He’s not getting any better.”

The older wizard furrowed his brows, deep in thought. “Hmm. Perhaps a trip to Hogsmeade would help.”

“We already asked him! Three times!” Ron spat. “He said he had to ask for your permission!”

“What?” Snape said shocked. “I never said he had to do no such thing. Harry can do whatever he pleases. I would never allow him to ask me for anything.”

Hermione nudged a furious Ron. “Sir, he didn’t exactly say that. What he said was that he had to talk to you about it.”

Severus folded his arms and stood tall. “I assure you, he has never mentioned anything about it.”

“Then why would he say that?” Ron countered.

Snape thought a moment. “I will talk to him about it,” he said firmly. “Today after class.”

Hermione smiled a little. “Thank you, sir.”

Severus nodded once then turned to leave. Once he was out of earshot, Ron glared at Hermione.

“You thanked him? Thanked him for what?”

The young witch sighed. “I don’t know. But maybe Harry will listen to him.”

“And maybe Snape is full of it!” Ron barked in the direction of the retreating wizard.

Hermione quietly sighed. ‘Maybe,’ she thought.


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Ron and Hermione waited impatiently outside of the Potion’s classroom. The redhead paced like he always did when he was nervous and the young witch was fidgeting with her robe. Both jumped when a familiar drawl rang out.

“The two of you might be here all day if Potter is serving detention with his husband.”

“Sod off, Malfoy!”

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

Draco Malfoy was casually leaning on the wall, arms folded lazily across his chest.

“Honestly, Granger. You surprise me. I always thought you were smarter than this.”

“I said sod off!”

“If you have something to say, Malfoy, then say it!” Hermione spat.

The blond merely shrugged. “I’m just curious. How is it that two people are in a well-known forced marriage and one of them hates it…”

Just then Harry walked out.

“And one of them couldn’t be happier about it,” he continued, now looking straight at Harry.

“What?” Ron screamed. “Harry hates it just as much, you lying bastard! You better run, Malfoy, or you’ll be swallowing your teeth!”

Draco shrugged at the threat then quirked an eyebrow at Hermione before turning slowly around. Hermione frowned then quickly grabbed Ron by his sleeve to stop him from darting after the snotty boy.

Harry scrunched his nose. “What was that about?”

“Malfoy’s a prick, that’s what! I can't believe him! Did you hear him, Hermione?”

“Yes, Ron, I heard him.” She turned to a confused Harry. “Forget about him, Harry. Let’s just go.”

Harry nodded and the three started towards their next class. Snape appeared from behind.

“Miss Granger,” Severus called out.

The young witch stopped and motioned her two friends to continue on.

“Yes?” she asked, walking over to him.

“What was that all about? With Mr Malfoy?”

“Oh. Nothing, sir…I mean Severus.”

The Potions master smiled. “I need to ask you a favour, Hermione.”

“Yes?”

“Would you make sure that Mr Malfoy stays far away from Harry?”

Hermione frowned. “Why, Severus? He’s just being his normal, irritating self.”

“I’m sure he is. However, I’m convinced Mr Malfoy is trying to cause trouble for Harry and will try to fill his head full of lies.”

“Sir? What kind of lies…?”

“You’re well aware that Mr Malfoy feels that Harry is responsible for sending his father, Lucius Malfoy, to Azkaban.”

“Yes, but what kind of lies could he …”

“Harry doesn’t need to know …” Snape paused. “He doesn’t need to have any more stress in his life. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes…” Hermione answered skeptically.

“Good. Now then. Harry will be joining you and Ron next weekend to Hogsmeade.”

“Um, thank you, sir.”

A thin smile crossed Snape's features. “Of course,” he said bowing his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Hermione nodded then watched her teacher walk away, lost in her thoughts. For the first time, she questioned Malfoy and Snape’s motives.


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Friday night, the night before the trip to Hogsmeade, Severus found Harry curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, studying. The boy looked so beautiful with the firelight shining across his features. Snape gingerly sat down next to his husband and placed a hand on Harry’s thigh. Harry sighed.

“What is it?” Snape asked.

Harry lowered the book to his lap. “Nothing.”

“Harry, this has got to stop. Your friends are concerned about you and are only trying to help. You need to get over this.”

Harry stared blankly at him.

“You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re only making yourself miserable,” Snape said bluntly. “And everyone around you, as well.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. ‘What?’ his mind screamed.

“I know it’s been hard on you,” Severus continued with a softer voice. “But it’s been hard on me, as well. Do you think I enjoy seeing you waste your life away?”

Snape raised his hand up to stroke Harry’s face, but he moved it away.

“Now what?”

“Nothing,” Harry whispered. “I’m just…tired. That’s all.”

Severus scowled. “I guess that would explain your… behaviour this week,” he said flatly.

Harry snapped his head back at looked at him questioningly.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice how my own husband recoils away when I merely want to please him?” Harry flinched. “Or how he just lies there like a corpse?” Snape said harshly.

“No. No, it’s just…”

“Just what?” Severus demanded.

Harry looked back at the fireplace. “It’s just… Why do we have to do it everyday?” he whispered softly.

“I see,” Snape drawled. “My husband tires of his own selfish pleasure. Surely I can see why. Feeling guilty then,” he surmised.

His young husband’s eyes widened and stared at him. “W-what do you mean?” he asked, afraid of hearing the answer.

“Hmm. If I remember correctly, the exact words were: “The equal right for sexual gratification and must not be characterised by selfishness”.”

Harry blinked.

“That is my right, as well, is it not? For sexual gratification?”

“I-I…”

“And you will not deny me, will you?”

“I thought you enjoyed…”

“What, Harry? Pleasing my husband but my husband won't please me?”

The young wizard gasped as Snape rose off the couch, stood in front of him and removed his robe.

“But...but it also says…um… not to force or…”

“Force?” the older man retorted offensively. “Do you think I would honestly force my husband to do something that he is required to do?”

Harry swallowed hard. “No,” he whispered.

Snape smirked. “Then I think it’s time to properly acquaint yourself with my needs.”


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