Pains and Contradictions

Warnings: This story is rated M, which means it's not safe for work.

A/N: Many thanks to Torina for working out the little plotty things with me, and to WhiteCotton, whose beta skills continue to amaze me. Thank you so much. As always, a kiss and wave to all the lovely ladies (and Stephen) of SeverusSighs. The last line of this chapter is paraphrased from a screenplay by Kevin Jarre.

This chapter has existed in little post-it notes since the beginning of the story. And unlike other chapters that changed a bit as the story progressed, this chapter plays out exactly as it did in my head two years ago. I hope you enjoy it. We're getting very close to the end, and although I'm still hoping to have the story completed by December, I'm not going to rush to the end. Thank you all for your patience.

Their Last Day on Earth



“So what do you think of the Cannons’ chances this year?”

“Dunno,” Harry said as he tickled the top of his pawn. “Haven’t really been keeping up with it lately.”

“Yeah,” Ron said as he studied Harry’s reluctance to make a move, “I guess you’ve been a bit distracted lately. You know, from the important things.” Harry smiled. “So how is old Snape anyway?”

“He’s good,” Harry said, finally moving his piece. “He’s been brewing this nutritive potion for me. Might help make me a bit taller.”

“You’re not that short. Well...not as short as you used to be.”

“I’m not that tall either,” Harry said, concentrating on the game. He was dangerously close to losing his queen, and he studied the board in an effort to save her.

Ron made his move instantly, his strategy seeming effortless. “You’re finally taller than Hermione.” He grinned. “Small favors.”

Harry frowned and studied the board, prepared to defend his queen at all costs. He ran a finger over his last remaining knight and took a deep breath, hoping this move would be the one he needed.

“Knight takes bishop,” he muttered under his breath, watching with wide eyes as freckled hands made a move he hadn’t seen, had been too distracted to notice.

“Checkmate.”

He watched silently as his king was destroyed, bits of powder scattering all over the board.

“Do you want to know how that happened?” Ron asked. Harry looked up and silently responded. “You were too busy worrying about your queen to defend your king. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the queen’s important. Real important. But the objective is to protect the king. Without him...the game’s lost.”

Harry watched as the white pieces on the board disintegrated, their ashes blown in some stray wind.

Looking up from his defeat, green eyes met blue, Ron’s expression earnest as he asked, “Do you see what I mean, Harry?”

“Harry, wake up.”

Harry inhaled deeply and shifted on the bed as Severus’ hands shook him. “Severus? What’s happened?”

“Dumbledore’s calling us. Quickly now,” he said, pulling Harry up by his arms to get him out of bed.

Slipping on his shoes and the robes he wore yesterday, Harry was dressed before he was completely awake. He’d just cleared the sleep from his eyes when he realized that this might be it: Dumbledore might be calling them to fight.

As Severus worked the last of his buttons, Harry put a shaking hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Severus responded quickly, chastely, and said, “I believe he has news. If the Dark Lord were approaching we’d have heard an alarm by now.” He finished buttoning his robes and took Harry’s hand. “It isn’t morning yet, so whatever has happened must be urgent.”

Harry nodded, and the two of them left the warmth of their rooms and entered the cold dungeon hallways, walking side-by-side. The hallways were still empty, and Harry didn’t hesitate to walk closely by Severus, their hands bumping in the dark until Severus entwined their fingers. Through the faintest candlelight, Harry looked down at their hands, then at Severus and smiled. His hand felt warm, even if his entire body was cold.

They climbed the stairs from the dungeons, and Severus quickly led them to the little room off the Great Hall—the same room Harry had entered with the other champions when his name had been drawn out of the Goblet of Fire. The same dark sense of foreboding he’d felt then overwhelmed him when they heard a calm, deep voice from inside.

“...all happening now, Dumbledore,” was all Harry heard before Severus opened the door and Harry was forced to look up to see who was speaking.

“Harry Potter,” Firenze said, regarding him with a nod of his head before he turned to Severus. “And your bondmate. Greetings, Professor Snape.”

“Firenze,” Severus said, greeting him with a nod, though clearly as confused by Firenze’s presence as Harry.

“I’m sorry for waking you, but Firenze has news from the herd I thought you both ought to hear,” Dumbledore said. He stood up from a chair he’d been sitting in and walked towards them; Harry braced himself with every step he took.

“Yes,” Firenze said softly, turning towards a window to see the sky, “Centaurs do not normally concern themselves with matters as insignificant as a dark wizard.” He paused and Harry looked to Severus, then Dumbledore, the three of them silent and waiting for Firenze to speak.

He turned from the window, putting his back to the stars, and said, “We have watched the sky for a very long time, Harry Potter. There is a darkness growing, something that will poison everything should you lose.”

A choking, pregnant silence permeated the room, the unspoken question floating through the air almost a tangible thing. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to ask, but he knew he had to.

“And will I?” Harry asked before he could stop himself. “Will I lose?” He could not force himself to ask if he would lose Severus.

Firenze turned back to the window, his voice soft as he said, “We do not know. But he is coming. We can feel him approaching.” He turned back to Harry and said, “Just one more day.”

“How can you be so certain?” Severus asked with a sneer. “How do you know the Dark Lord isn’t simply biding his time, gathering his forces—”

“We do not know for certain,” Firenze said softly, breaking through Severus’ consternation with a bow of his head. “But the signs are rarely wrong about these things.” Harry watched as his gaze wandered over Severus, his eyes seeming to look more within than at Severus himself. Firenze frowned before his face twisted in sadness. Turning away from Severus, he looked to Harry, and for once seemed as though he wasn’t sure if he should speak or not. The unmistakable look of sympathy caused Harry’s throat to clench.

The sound of hoofs hitting the floor resounded through the room before the smell of the forest invaded Harry’s senses. Staring at his shoes, Harry felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder, before he was forced to look up.

“I am sorry,” Firenze said softly, looking quickly to Severus, “but you are far more important. Surely you understand this?”

Harry’s thoughts lingered back to just minutes ago, to a dream and chess pieces and a fallen king. His mind wandered to Dumbledore’s office, to the chessboard with so many pieces gone.

He wanted to say no, wanted to insist that it wasn’t necessary, that he wouldn’t listen, that he would let the entire world fall to pieces before he would let Severus risk his life for his own.

He’d find a way, he thought, but until then...

“I understand.”

Firenze nodded sadly before he started speaking to Dumbledore again, a ringing in Harry’s ears blocking any sound from coming through. Suddenly the air in the room seemed much too thin, and Harry excused himself and was halfway out the door before he knew what he was doing.

As he ran towards the Astronomy Tower, he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let Severus fall. Maybe he couldn’t protect Severus himself, but that didn’t mean someone else couldn’t.

*

Severus paused at the doorway to the room, Harry’s footsteps trailing away from him towards the Astronomy Tower. Though he wanted to follow Harry, he stopped as a sudden realization struck him like a blow.

He’d known this day had been coming far before he’d bonded to Harry, before he’d realized what the bond was meant to do. The odds of his survival had decreased dramatically upon the Dark Lord’s return. Bonding with Harry had simply been the final nail in the coffin he’d built for himself when he became a Death Eater.

Severus had thought he’d made his peace with it long ago, but as he stood standing in the shadow of the doorway, he felt a different kind of determination come over him.

He would die tomorrow, that much was certain. But in all his manipulations, in all his struggling to correct the wrongs of his youth, he never dreamed he’d be such an instrument for what was all encompassing and morally right.

He would die...so that Harry would live. Harry would kill the Dark Lord and would survive, the world as they knew it would continue, and all that had to be sacrificed was his ridiculously small life.

Closing his eyes, a feeling of dread passed over him, not unlike the sensation when he had answered the Dark Lord’s call. And though the dread remained, a sorrowful kind of contentment—peace, he realized—filled him.

Harry would live. What more could he possibly ask for?

Harry, who was every good thing he’d ever had in life. Harry, who had shown him love and kindness he’d never thought to experience.

He lifted a shaking hand to his face and clenched it into a fist as his feet began to lead him in the path Harry had taken. His entire life had been leading to this moment, to these next twenty-four hours, and he felt a purpose he’d never known before as his footsteps quickened, as the need to see Harry became absolute.

The morning light was barely coming over the horizon, and Harry was standing with his back to the door, looking towards the Forbidden Forest.

Just the sight of him gave Severus the strength he would need to face this day. The last day of his life. He allowed Harry to hear his footsteps, watching his shoulders straighten as Harry began to pull himself together.

Leaning against the stone, Harry turned to him and smiled. That smile took Severus back to the day they had bonded, the day he’d realized he was marked to die.

He remembered that day so clearly; how he’d mocked Fate, hated that unseen, cruel entity for forcing such a destiny upon him.

Looking out onto the Forest, onto unseen enemies, then at Harry’s smile, Severus saw his entire life play before him in a flash. He saw himself as an angry young man, then watched as that anger continued into adulthood. He thought of how foolish he’d been to deny Harry when he’d loved him all along, how futile it had been to fight against what was meant to be. How wrong he was to think Fate cruel when he’d been given a greater gift than he could have hoped for. A month of happiness and contentment was more than most men had in their lives, and more than Severus had ever thought he’d have. Perhaps Fate was cruel to give him such a gift only to have it taken away so soon.

But he didn’t care anymore. Not when he only had hours left to spend with Harry. Now, at the end of his life, he let that futile anger go and made peace with what he’d been given.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, dragging Severus back to the present, where he was alive and here with Harry.

He suppressed a cough and said, “Yes. I’m fine.”

Nodding, Harry looked down at his shoes and seemed to struggle with his words. He looked out onto the Forest, and Severus watched as he frowned and clenched his fists.

Not looking at him, Harry said, “You know I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’re getting out of this alive, both of us.”

Severus smiled, though Harry didn’t see it, and said, “Well if Harry Potter wills it, I’m sure it will come to pass.”

“I’m serious,” Harry said, turning to him with a rage Severus had never seen before, not on Harry’s face. “I know what everyone thinks, even you, but it’s not going to happen. Things like this, us, the bond, don’t just happen.”

“Harry, the nature of the bond—”

“I don’t care! I don’t care about the bond, and I don’t care what Dumbledore or Firenze or Ron or anyone else thinks! You’re not going to sacrifice yourself, not if I can help it.”

He knew the argument was futile, and so Severus said nothing. He simply nodded his head, though Harry seemed to sense his dishonesty.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me again,” he said softly, looking out over the trees, not at Severus. “Not if you could help it.”

Not wanting this day to be spent arguing, Severus closed his eyes and told the truth. “I know what I said, and I meant it. I don’t want to die, Harry.”

“Even if it means things go pear-shaped after? Even if you get sacked and I get expelled?”

“Even then,” Severus said, then put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, forcibly turning him so he could look at his face. “I will defend you until the end, whatever that may be. And I have no desire to die.”

“Then stay in the castle tomorrow,” Harry whispered. “You said it yourself, your role in all of this—”

“No,” Severus said, tilting Harry’s chin upward, stopping his argument before it could begin.

“But the bond—the way it works, it’s going to drain you!”

Just the thought of being locked away in his rooms while Harry fought for his life was enough to enrage Severus’ temper and he growled, “I have been waiting for this day since you were an infant. Nothing, not even you, will keep me from it. Don’t ask that of me!” Then his eyes softened as he took in Harry’s face, his expression desperate and frightened. Knowing how difficult this was for him, he ran a hand through Harry’s hair and said, “My place is by your side, and this...all of this has been a long time coming. There’s no stopping my part in it. This is merely the final act in a very long attempt at contrition.”

Shaking his head, Harry said, “You’ve more than made up for anything you did before.”

Needing this to end, not wanting to spend his last hours convincing the one person he needed on his side of his place in all this, Severus gathered Harry in his arms. He remained stiff for a moment, the cold wind blowing over both of them, before Harry relaxed. Soft hair tickled Severus’ chin and strong arms wrapped around him.

Neither of them said a word, both content to hold one another as the world continued to close in around them, their unseen enemy moving closer with every passing minute.

“Can we spend the day in bed?” Harry asked, his voice muffled by Severus’ robes. “Like when I was sick? Can we do that?”

Mentally considering all the things he had to put in order, Severus said, “Not the entire day, no. But we can take an early dinner, and retire early.”

“A late lunch?” Harry asked, looking up with a desperate hope in his eyes. He forced a smile onto his face that Severus found he couldn’t deny.

“All right.” Loosening his hold on him, Severus turned them to go inside. “There are a few things I have to attend to before I can lay about like a Gryffindor.” Harry elbowed him in the ribs and gave a weak smile. “Why don’t you spend a few hours with your friends?”

Harry took his hand as they stepped inside, away from the bitter cold that nevertheless seemed to follow them. “Yeah, I guess there a few things I should do, too. But I’ll go to our rooms as soon as I’m done.”

Severus hummed his reply, and they began the long walk down to the dungeons. Harry’s palm was warm and sweaty in his hand, and Severus knew the students who had remained would be awake and about by now.

The warm, sweaty hand remained in his own as they passed the Ravenclaw common room, passed the Great Hall where they were openly ogled by students and professors alike, down to the dungeons where the Slytherins gaped at Severus and glared at Harry. Severus was amused at the stray thought that they were probably more offended by his lack of sensibility and cunning in keeping his relationship secret than his choice in partner.

But the hand in his was warm, and Severus was so cold he found he didn’t care in the least. He cursed his own dramatics as Harry left him at his potions laboratory, and he had a difficult time letting go.

But he’d see Harry again in a few hours. There was still time yet. And so with the promise of another encounter, Severus allowed Harry to leave and the cold overcome him.

*

“So...what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said from his place in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. “I don’t know what I can do.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed and she concentrated on her hands while Harry’s mind drifted over what was about to happen. There had to be some way he could save Severus, even if Severus didn’t want to be saved.

“He has a point, you know? About the bond.” She sat down next to him and crossed her ankles, looking as though she were weighing her words carefully. “If all this—you and him—were fated, if he’s supposed to help you like this—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry said, interrupting her before he lost his temper. “I don’t care about the bond. I might have to hurt Severus to kill Voldemort, but he doesn’t have to die.” And he wouldn’t die, Harry told himself. He just needed to think of something clever. Anything that would help save Severus.

“I don’t suppose...” Hermione said, before she drifted off, looking guilty. “I’m not saying this is a good thing, but...what if you stunned him? Kept him in a room somewhere?”

“No,” Harry said before he even gave the idea much thought. “I wouldn’t do that to him. I—” He wanted to consider her idea—it was the only good idea so far—but he knew he could never do it. Reluctantly, Harry realized Severus had earned his place on the battlefield tomorrow, and that it would be unfair of Harry to try to take that from him. To Severus, his entire adult life had been leading up to this moment. Harry would be damned if he’d be the one to deny him.

“I’m not saying it’s the best idea, but if it would save his life—”

“I won’t,” Harry said, his stern tone directed more at himself than Hermione. “He has more right to be there tomorrow than either of us. And besides, I couldn’t stun him if I wanted to. Stupid bond.”

“Maybe Dumbledore...”

A sharp look quieted her, and Harry patted her knee with an unspoken apology. If Severus were a different man, he’d have no problem leaving him tied up in a room.

They were quiet for a few minutes, Harry struggling with what could be done, if anything, to save Severus. Hermione was fingering a frayed piece of string on her Weasley sweater.

In a flash he was removed from his own problems, cursing himself for his selfishness when he knew she was suffering, had been suffering for far longer.

“How are you?” At her questioning look, he added, “Really?”

“Really?” she said, frowning and looking into the fire. “I’m...ready. I know exactly where I need to be tomorrow, exactly what I have to do.”

There was something about the way she said it that sent a chill up Harry’s spine. “Oh?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, though she was still looking into the fire. “You might not realize it, but I’m a decent duelist. Good, even.”

Harry had seen her practicing yesterday with the other Gryffindors and had to admit that was true. “No, I know you are.”

“I can’t stand the thought of him...walking around, breathing, living while Ron’s dead,” she whispered, pulling at the strings of her sweater until they unraveled. “I feel as though I’ve been living in a fog since Ron died. I’m so tired all the time.”

He put an arm around her slender shoulders, but she didn’t yield to him, her body stiff and unmoving as she stared into the fire.

“I don’t think I can move on until he’s dead. Not properly. I feel like I owe it to Ron.”

Harry removed his arm, and sat quietly as Hermione clutched her knees to her chest, the gesture looking so odd on her just then.

“Heaven help the person who gets to Lucius Malfoy before I do.” She blinked just then, as though she was coming out of a quiet rage. Harry remained silent, not sure of what to say to her plans. Suddenly she looked down at her hands and fretted. “Oh, look what I did to his jumper.”

Harry laughed in relief, then quieted when she tossed him an irritated look. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you scared me for a minute.” He had no desire to lose Hermione again, whether by her own death or by going to a place she couldn’t come back from.

She looked down at the frayed strings and said, “This was Ron’s. I’m wearing it tomorrow. Flying his colors, so to speak.”

“Good,” Harry said, as he mentally rummaged through his own trunk.

“Harry,” Hermione said, looking much more like herself, “about Professor Snape...”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to protect him. Not when you’re going to have to work so hard at protecting yourself.”

“I know,” Harry said.

“Yes, but is there someone here you trust?” she asked. “Someone who cares about him? Someone strong enough, talented enough to be able to protect Professor Snape as well as themselves?”

Harry opened his mouth to say that no one could protect Severus like he could, but then shut it again, his eyes widening when he realized that, yes, actually there was someone.

*

Remus walked through the dungeon hallway, not bothering to knock when he came to Severus’ potions laboratory. Let the lingering Slytherin students glare at him all they wanted, today wasn’t the day to rely on Severus’ goodwill.

He heard Severus coughing before he completely entered the room, then took in the large cauldron on his workbench and dozens of potion bottles all lined up to be filled. Though Remus knew he must have heard him come in, Severus said nothing, giving him a moment to take in what he was seeing.

“Are you stocking up for the winter?” he asked, though he suspected he already knew exactly what it was Severus was doing.

“Get out.”

Taking that as the invitation it truly was, Remus stepped closer, seeing even more bottles of what looked like the same potion, already filled. His stomach sank a bit as he realized he was watching Severus make preparations for his death.

“What are you brewing?”

Severus’ glare told him he thought it was none of Remus’ business, but he blinked and looked as though he changed his mind. “Harry’s nutritive potion. It has a thankfully long shelf life.” He looked back at the cauldron and began stirring. “You might have to remind him to take it daily.”

Remus’ heart sank a bit at hearing that. “Why would I have to remind him, Severus?”

Severus’ fist hit the table—startling Remus in how quickly he went from calm to enraged—and he barked, “I understand why Harry refuses to see the truth, perhaps even Dumbledore, but not you!” Meeting his glare, Remus said nothing, not wanting to remind Severus that he didn’t particularly want to lose a friend. A moment later Severus broke his stare and began to stir the potion again. “You care for him, and there are certain things I must trust you with, this being one of them.”

“Nothing is certain, Severus,” Remus said, stepping closer, hoping to talk some sense into him. “There’s every possibility that you might survive and I might die.”

“You can’t die,” Severus said, not looking at Remus, though his tone was certain. “Who would take care of Harry if you died?”

Rubbing a hand across his face, Remus struggled with what to say that hadn’t already been said a dozen times before. “I don’t believe you would be bonded, fated to be bonded, only for you to die so soon after.”

Severus sighed. “We’ve already had this conversation once before. I have no desire to have it again.”

“Severus, Fate can’t be that cruel. It can’t put you and Harry together for a single purpose that leads directly to your death.”

“Oh? And you know this how?” he asked, his voice a low rasp. “Because your own life has been so fair? Is that how you’re so certain?” Severus sneered and looked away, seeming to turn in on himself as he removed the cauldron from the fire. “I’ve made my peace. There are a few things that need to be done before Harry and I retire for the night.”

“Severus...”

The cauldron met the workbench with a clang, and Severus looked on Remus in rage. “Most of my life has been leading up to this day. There have been far too many coincidences—Lily, the prophecy, Weasley’s death, Harry—for me to deny it any longer. It is my fate that I help Harry tomorrow. I’ve spent too many years trying to undo the mistakes of my past, and damn you for forcing me to explain my life.” Severus was panting now, his breath making odd sounds as it escaped his lungs.

Sinking down onto a bench, Remus concentrated on the wall while he considered what to do next. What did you say to a person who believed they were going to die? Severus leaned against his worktable, closing his eyes as he calmed himself, and Remus looked away to give him some small privacy.

“You’ll have to have someone else brew the wolfsbane potion for you next month,” Severus finally said a few moments later. “It has to be consumed freshly brewed. There’s no stasis charm that will work on it.”

“I know,” Remus said looking up, surprised to see Severus look so nervous.

“I didn’t have time to research the potion, to see if there was any way—”

“It’s all right, Severus. I’ve gone without before.”

Severus nodded and cleared his throat, that uncharacteristic nervousness looking so odd on him. Remus struggled with what to say that wouldn’t infuriate him. Since he’d learned of the nature of the bond, he’d fought with the idea that Severus and Harry had come together simply so Severus could give his life. It simply didn’t follow with what Remus knew of the world.

Just the idea that some amoral entity could use Severus until it was done with him and then throw him away; that something could manipulate men into doing its bidding, even if it was for the greater good, was too much to bear. He had to believe that Severus would survive, that Fate wouldn’t just use him, not caring what would happen after.

Severus cleared his throat again and walked over to his desk, motioning for Remus to follow him.

“This drawer,” Severus said, opening the top drawer and removing some papers, “will remain unlocked. It has all my papers—Gringott’s statements, the title to my property, and my will.” He closed it and looked Remus in the eye. “It isn’t much, but everything will go to Harry. Tell him he can do whatever he wants with the land now that there’s no house there. Sell it, build a home there for himself, it doesn’t matter to me.” He sat down in his chair and rubbed his temples, looking tired all of a sudden. “It’s his to do with as he wishes.”

“Severus...”

“Don’t,” Severus whispered, his hand still covering his face, sounding nothing like the angry man he’d been a moment ago. “Please, Lupin.”

Remus nodded, then sat on the edge of Severus’ desk, waiting for whatever would come next.

“There’s one last thing I must ask of you,” Severus said softly, his shoulders slumped and his expression lost. “I may not trust you with many things, but I trust you with Harry. I know you care for him...” his voice trailed off and he was silent for a moment, and Remus waited until he was ready to speak again. “You took care of him once on my behalf. All I ask is that you take care of him again.”

Remus closed his eyes, attempting to quell his own emotions at Severus’ request. He put a hand on Severus’ shoulder, no longer surprised that it wasn’t shrugged off.

“One day, when he meets someone else, you’ll tell him that I would have wanted him to be happy,” Severus whispered, perhaps not able to think of Harry moving on, living, without him. “When he feels guilt, and he will, you’ll tell him that he was the one bright spot in my miserable little life. Tell him that he deserves every good thing, that I would have wanted him to have...” He cleared his throat and turned to look at Remus, his expression solemn and stern. “Swear to me. Swear you’ll take care of him.”

Remus didn’t know what to say or how to argue anymore. All he knew was that none of this was fair. “I swear.”

Severus nodded and Summoned the stool Remus had been sitting on from the other side of the room, then opened the last drawer in his desk.

“I’m afraid all I have to offer is Firewhisky,” Severus said, taking out two glasses that looked as though they might have held potions at one point. “You drank all my scotch.”

Remus laughed and took the offered cup, and peace offering, for what it was: a last drink between two friends.

There were many things he wanted to say, but he thought the silence might have said it better as they sat quietly and contemplated tomorrow.

*

Harry paced the length of their sitting room with a nervous energy, and nearly leapt to the door at the sound of a knock.

“Remus,” he breathed, standing aside to let him in. “Thanks for coming.”

Remus gave a grim smile and quickly went to sit down, leaning over with slumped shoulders in Severus’ armchair.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked.

His smile disappeared, and he said, “I’ve just left Severus.”

“Oh.” They were silent for a moment, Harry contemplating the fire as he struggle with how to ask his question. “He told you he’s going to die, didn’t he?”

There was silence for a moment before Remus simply said, “Yes.”

Harry forced out a stifled breath and held himself still when all he wanted was to rail at something. “Did he do something dramatic? Give you his last will and testament or something ridiculous like that?”

“He showed me where he kept it, yes.” Remus looked just as bad as Harry felt, but he still tried to rally a smile. “Let’s talk about something else, shall we?”

Harry was thinking over the way that conversation must have gone, Severus giving his last wishes to Remus, so certain he would die. “So do I inherit all his potions bottles or something?”

“Harry...”

“He’s not going to die.”

“I don’t want him to die anymore than you do,” Remus said, reaching out a hand to grab Harry’s shoulder. “I care for him, too.”

“If he’s your friend then help him,” Harry said softly, preparing himself to ask a great favor from Remus. He looked towards the dying fire, chilled to the bone, the cold suiting his mood perfectly. Images of what might happen tomorrow stormed to the forefront of his mind: Severus left alone while Harry fought for his life. Knowing there was no way he could protect Severus and defeat Voldemort at the same time, he took a deep breath and turned towards his friend. “Remus, there’s something I need from you. A favor,” he said, meeting Remus’ eyes. “A big favor.” Remus stayed quiet, as though he knew what was coming, and Harry continued. “I won’t be able to protect Severus, not if I need to be looking out for Voldemort at the same time.” Remus’ eyes became knowing and sad, and Harry turned away, not able to see such sympathy directed at him. “I need you to do it for me.”

“I’m supposed to be flanking you, actually. Dumbledore’s ordered me to remain by your side—”

“I don’t care!” Harry shouted, then bit his lip and tried to calm his temper. “Do you really think I’m going to be able to concentrate if I don’t know someone’s protecting Severus? Do you think I’ll be of any use to anyone?”

He watched as Remus considered this, cupping his chin.

“There isn’t anyone else who’s strong enough, who actually cares about Severus enough to protect him. Dumbledore’s going to be with me the entire time, which means it has to be you. Please, Remus,” Harry pleaded. “I can’t...” his voice cut itself off as he considered the very realistic possibility that Severus would be dead this time tomorrow. Just the thought of it was enough to shake him to his core, and he struggled as he attempted to calm himself.

He turned to the fire again, away from Remus, not wanting him to see him so shaken, see how close he was to panic. Taking deep breaths, he said through clenched teeth, “I want you to swear to me you won’t leave his side.” The sound of shuffling feet had Harry turning to face Remus, his face pale, his expression lost. “Swear to me, please. Please, don’t leave him.”

Something softened in Remus’ eyes, and he was so quiet that for a moment Harry thought he’d deny him. Though he knew he was asking too much, Harry held his breath and prayed for this one last thing. Slowly, Remus nodded, and said, “I swear.”

Just then the door from Severus’ office opened, and Severus walked quickly into the room, his eyes meeting Harry’s. Without any consideration to how he and Remus must have looked, Harry forced his bravest smile onto his face and went over to greet him.

“Hi,” he said with more enthusiasm than was called for. He placed a chaste kiss on Severus’ lips, smiling genuinely when it was returned. “You ready for dinner?”

“Lunch is more like it,” Remus said, rising from his chair and looking as though something important hadn’t just happened. “I’m famished. Are you ready, Severus?”

Severus’ hand found Harry’s quickly, and Harry had to remind himself Remus was in the room to keep from forgetting about lunch and dragging Severus to bed right then and there. Instead he gave a small smile and gestured to the door.

“Yes, we can’t let a wolf go hungry. Merlin knows how the cat population would begin to dwindle,” Severus said, as they all began to move towards the door.

He and Remus laughed, sounding forced, but Harry was grateful for it; he was determined to make this night perfect, regardless of what would happen tomorrow. Closing his eyes as he stepped into the cold of the hallway, Harry gathered his strength and allowed himself to enjoy having Severus.

Even if it was for just one more night.

Forcing aside his fears, Harry listened to Remus chatter about some of the gossip he’d heard from the Aurors, laughing when it was called for and concentrating on Severus’ hand.

As they walked up the stairs, Remus stopped suddenly on the top step, his eyes turned towards the Entrance Hall, and Harry noticed Tonks, looking tired and afraid, guarding the front door. Feeling the potential for a bit of much-needed mischief, Harry smiled before he could help himself and nudged Severus in the ribs.

Severus smirked and said, “So what was Tonks’ response to your affections, Lupin? You never told me.” Harry watched as Remus went a bit pale before he glared at Severus, the expression not looking half as terrifying as it did when Severus used it. “Have you still not asked her?” The look of extremely false innocence made Harry laugh and Remus scowl. “Well, there’s no time like the present.”

Pointing a finger in his face, Remus opened his mouth, then closed it a moment later. Looking back at Tonks, Remus threw back his shoulders, then muttered, “Well, why not then?”

Watching as Remus walked deliberately towards Tonks, Harry inched closer to Severus and said, “You didn’t have to goad him, you know? I think he’s wanted to do this for a while.”

Severus stood behind Harry, wrapping an arm around him and said, “He wouldn’t have done it had I not...encouraged him.”

They watched silently as Remus scuffed up the back of his hair and smiled, everything about his demeanor nervous. Harry let out a long breath as he saw Tonks’ expression change from terror to happiness, her smile something that couldn’t be helped, even now.

“Admit it,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around Severus’ middle, “you like him.”

“No, you like him, and his happiness makes you happier.”

“Shut up,” Harry said, leaning his head on Severus’ shoulder, not caring at all that someone was likely watching. “You probably do things together when I’m not around all the time.”

“Perish the thought.”

“Right. And you both have firewhisky on your breath because...”

Severus grunted and began walking towards the Great Hall, Remus running to catch up to them.

“So,” Remus said, looking extremely pleased with himself, “in answer to your question, Severus, she said yes.”

“That’s great, Remus!” Harry said.

“Pity it took you this long,” Severus said, his tone dry.

“Well, I suppose there’s something about today that inspires bravery,” Remus said.

“Is there?” Severus said. “Perhaps you should have saved it for tomorrow then.”

“Too late now,” Remus responded, the bounce in his step looking odd amidst the fear the pervading the castle. Harry decided he liked it. “So, I have a date, provided we both survive.”

Harry laughed, genuinely this time, and said, “Things are looking up.”

*

Sex with Harry was always an amazing experience for Severus. He never knew exactly what kind of sex they’d be having until they were actually having it. There had been nights of torn robes, buttons strewn across the floor and red nail marks on his back the next day. And there were times he’d been overwhelmed with love for Harry, unable to say with words what he chose to express with his body.

And there were times like now—very few times—when Harry was on top of him, inside of him, that Severus allowed himself to feel well and truly loved.

It was impossible to feel any different, not with Harry slowly pumping into him, the sweat of his body revealing his exertion and how hard he was trying to keep his movements fluid. He’d perfected that roll of his hips since the first time he’d topped, and Severus spread his legs wider to encourage him.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Harry whispered, and a part of Severus wanted to scoff at having endearments muttered to him during sex, but a stronger—or perhaps weaker—part of him couldn’t look away. “I love you so much,” Harry said, panting, sweat falling onto Severus’ neck and chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He searched his mind for something to say, anything, but then Harry stretched his body and sucked on his neck, and Severus couldn’t be bothered to think of a reply. He absentmindedly thought of how their evening had begun, how Severus had been determined to give Harry whatever it was he wanted for their last time together. And though it still seemed impossible, Severus could no longer deny that Harry would mourn him. He’d think of this night in the days to come, and Severus wanted Harry to look back on it with all the wonder and amazement Severus could give him.

But he never thought this was what he wanted as well. No, the thought that this was exactly what he needed had never crossed his mind.

Feeling Harry’s body, feeling every emotion that was raging inside of him, feeling the bond humming between them was too much for Severus, and he was thankful he could blame the sounds he was making on physical pleasure. He moaned as Harry’s cock thrust against his prostate and he choked back a sob at the desperation, the feeling of tenderness and adoration that Harry felt towards him. It was simply too much. Men weren’t created to take such passion.

Hands skimmed across his arms and down to his thighs, softly, not as Harry was usually prone to do. Harry’s fingers felt restrained, as though he was holding back his fury, wanting Severus to feel his devotion and not his anguish.

Severus threw his head back, trying to gain control of his voice, to not sound as overwhelmed as he felt. The guttural cry that came from his choked throat said, “More.”

Harry obeyed, and sped up his thrusts, his whispered words turning to near-sobs. Severus was lost in a haze of pleasure, but thought he heard “mine” and “won’t lose you” and “protect you” and then “love” repeated over and over. The words merely served to punctuate what it was he felt from Harry, the bond singing its pleasure through both of them.

He felt himself nearing completion, his cock throbbing between their bodies, and he knew with one firm touch of Harry’s hand he’d come. He wanted to delay it, freeze this moment in time when there was nothing between him and Harry, no Dark Lord, no war, no public threatening to come between them. Here, now, in this bed, was the only moment that existed. The only moment they were alone.

“Oh, fuck! Severus!” Harry cried, and Severus felt him thrust harder, then come dripping out of him, warm when he had been so cold. Harry’s firm hand was on his cock, and then Severus was coming, his orgasm pulled from him far too soon, the moment finally ending.

He nearly mourned its loss, but then Harry was still there, on top of him and inside him and all around him. Severus pulled him down and nestled his head on his chest, allowing the blessed silence to sustain him.

His body was shaking, feeling as though he’d run all night instead of making love, and felt shaken to the core. Never had he felt so open, as though he’d been dissected and Harry could see every part of him.

He didn’t even bother to pull himself together. Not now. Not tonight. Let Harry have this, have all of Severus. He’d give Harry everything he had left, everything he was to take with him after tomorrow.

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” Harry whispered, then nestled his head in the space between Severus’ neck and hair. “Want to stay up all night and be with you.”

“You can be with me when we’re sleeping,” he said, too tired to move, but holding Harry tighter. “You should rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow; we both will.” Severus shifted and felt that pleasant ache in his body radiate. He smiled and kissed Harry’s head.

“But I want to stay with you,” Harry said, then somehow managed to curl tighter around him, embracing him with arms and legs and chin. Severus didn’t move a muscle, surprised at how badly he wanted to be held like this.

The silence continued until the afterglow faded, thoughts of tomorrow once again invading their privacy where it was not welcome. Not having any idea what to say, Severus remained quiet, holding onto Harry for dear life.

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Harry suddenly lifted his head so he was looking at Severus and asked with a smile, “So...what do you want to do tomorrow?”

Severus scoffed, but played along, wanting to keep darker thoughts away for as long as possible. “You mean besides kill a dark lord?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, that’ll only take us to what? Mid-afternoon?”

“You’re being optimistic,” Severus said, lifting himself up with near Herculean effort and laying a gently kiss on Harry’s lips. “Supper time, I imagine.”

“Then that leaves the whole night then. And we’ll be hungry after all that victory.” Harry’s smile was brave, and Severus was thankful for the respite, glad that their last moments together wouldn’t be filled with fear.

“You’re right. We’ll be famished. What do you suggest?”

“We should go out. Celebrate. Make a night of it. Everyone else will be too busy celebrating in their own way so no one will notice us.”

Severus gave a small moan of pleasure as he twisted his hips, feeling the pleasant ache and the remnants that Harry had left behind. It was almost decadent how much pleasure he found himself taking from such a basic sensation.

“Was I too rough with you?” Harry asked, laying a hand on his hip.

“Just rough enough,” he said, moving them so he and Harry were lying on the same pillow, looking at one another. “So what would you like to do tomorrow night?”

“Dinner,” Harry said with a happy chirp that barely seemed forced. “And maybe a film. I’ve never seen a film. How about you?”

“We’ll see a film then.” He let his hands run over Harry’s shoulders, their noses inches apart. “What sort of film do you want to see?”

“Er...probably not an action film. Those can be sort of...violent.”

“Yes, I supposed we’ll have seen enough of that this time tomorrow.” Harry’s hand found its way into Severus’ hair and he began curling it around his ear.

“Not a romance either,” Harry said. “They never do those right.”

“Merlin help me if I ever let you drag me to some silly nonsense like that,” Severus replied with a smirk.

“A comedy? A laugh will be good after all this...”

Severus saved him from having to say anything else. “A comedy it is then.”

“And then dinner,” Harry said, tracing Severus’ collarbone with the finger he’d used to curl his hair under his earlobe. “Nothing fancy. Just fish and chips at a pub. With lots of ketchup.”

“I thought you hated tomatoes,” Severus said as he leaned over and kissed Harry again.

When the kiss ended, Harry frowned and said, “Not when they’re in bottle form.”

Severus laughed, nervous tension and silent fear pouring out of him at the absurdity of it all, and he wrapped his arms around Harry again.

They were silent for another moment, Severus’ stomach muscles mildly aching from disuse before Harry—his voice muffled by Severus’ chest—said, “Seriously, they’re all squishy. I don’t see how you can eat them.”

Then Severus laughed again, suppressing a cough that was trying to work its way out of his lungs. He only released Harry when he wriggled free, kissing Severus with more joy than desperation.

And they talked quietly about nothing important at all, and Severus was grateful for every moment until they quietly fell asleep in each other’s arms.

*

They woke to the sound of a blaring alarm a few hours later.

Harry was awake the instant he heard it, his eyes meeting Severus’ across the pillow. A frantic heartbeat, then two, their eyes conveying fear for only a moment before they both tossed back the covers and dressed. Harry pulled on an orange Cannon’s shirt he’d found in his trunk, Severus giving him a nod as he dressed in his dueling robes. Harry didn’t have anything so sensible, but put on a plain black one, for some reason eager to dress the part today.

The alarm was still sounding in the background when Severus handed Harry a bottle of pepper-up, Harry taking a long drink of it before Severus finished the bottle. They stood in silence for a moment, their eyes meeting, before they kissed. Mouths found each other frantically, teeth butting against each other without grace as they said without words all that needed to be said.

Harry reluctantly let Severus pull away, his eyes giving a silent apology before he took Harry’s face in his hands and seemed to prepare himself.

Thin lips pressed against themselves and Severus seemed to weigh his words before he said, “Do it quickly.” When Harry frowned, he continued, “When you reach the Dark Lord, I will be able to shield your mind, but not forever. Do it as quickly as possible.”

“All right.”

Severus nodded, but Harry knew that wasn’t what he’d wanted to say. The unspoken words seemed to be caught on Severus’ tongue, but Harry heard them.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Closing his eyes as a soft shudder passed through him, Harry felt his throat clench so all he could do was nod. Severus released his face and took his hand before heading for the door.

The professors who’d stayed behind were already gathering in the Entrance Hall, and the students who’d remained were running to meet them. Harry watched as members of the Order and a few dozen Aurors opened the main doors and filed outside.

The cold air hit Harry in the face and he finally noticed Dumbledore and Remus standing in front of the crowd, looking out towards the Forbidden Forest.

They went and stood next to them, their small army gathering behind them, far too silent for having so many people. Harry squeezed Severus’ hand before he released it.

“Harry, Severus,” Dumbledore said, greeting them. “You both know what you’re to do. Harry, stay with me, and don’t leave my side. We’ll have to cut through the masses to find Voldemort...”

He stopped suddenly, shaking his head at himself, at repeating orders to men who knew exactly what they had to do. With a sudden understanding of his role in all of this, Dumbledore smiled and looked over to the men who would truly decide what would happen today. He took a step back, his thoughts wandering to decades past, and looked over to Severus, Remus and Harry. Though they might not have been waiting for this day for as long as he had, he knew their lives had been affected just as much. With a surge of pride, he addressed them.

“Gentlemen, through all these years, through all my planning, I was unsure who would be next to me today. I couldn’t be more proud to be standing here with the three of you.”

“Hear, hear,” Remus said.

“Thanks, Headmaster,” Harry said with a smile.

“Thank you, Albus,” Severus said with a nod.

They were silent for a handful of moments, and then Remus saw movement at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He grasped his wand tighter, pushing away the nervous fear building in his stomach, determined to keep one promise so he wouldn’t have to keep the other.

Suddenly there was a flash of pink in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head in time to see her. He looked away quickly, before he could be distracted, but couldn’t help but be amazed that he had something else worth fighting for. And what a coincidence that hope would return on a day like today.

“Well, we had better get this over with quickly,” Harry said, his light-hearted tone a bright spot in an ocean of darkness. “Severus and I have a date.”

“Oh?” Dumbledore said with a smile.

“We do not have a date,” Severus said.

“Oh, really? We’re going to see a film, have dinner, then come home and have sex. What would you call it?”

Severus glared, but remained silent.

Remus chuckled.

Aiming his wand towards the Forest, Dumbledore said, “Gentlemen...” and Harry looked, watching as dark figures came from within. He quelled his fear, knowing it would only hurt Severus now, but couldn’t help reaching out his hand for him one more time.

He chuckled, the sound filled with nervousness, as he said, “It feels like we should be riding horses or something.”

“Potter...” Severus warned.

“No, really.” Harry gasped for air as he pushed the fear away, readying himself for what was to come. “Ours would all be white, and yours could be black. It would be named Widow Maker or Satan’s Thrall or something like that.”

Severus scowled, then squeezed Harry’s hand once before letting it go. Turning to look at him once more, he committed his face to memory one last time. With a deep breath, he readied himself for what had been a long time coming. Squaring his shoulders, he raised his wand and for the shortest of moments, allowed himself to remember last night.

It was what he’d take with him.

“Headmaster?”

Harry waited for Dumbledore to say something, waited for him to act. The figures were only coming closer, and Harry knew he had to push through them to get to Voldemort.

With a glance towards Dumbledore, he raised his eyebrows in question.

“Everyone!” Dumbledore shouted behind them, though there was hardly any need. “Remember your orders.” And then he turned to Harry, and made a gesture with his hand.

Realizing what that meant, what all his training had been leading to, Harry squared his shoulders and pushed the remaining fear away. The first step down the stairs had never seemed so large to Harry, but he took it, knowing that though Dumbledore would be with him, this was a fight he’d fight alone. The thought sent a chill down his back before he felt the bond humming within him, reminding him that he wouldn’t be alone. Severus would be there.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” he heard Remus say as they began the long walk to the forest. “You’re ready.”

“Indeed,” Severus said, “the last charge of Harry Potter and his immortals.”