Triple Deception

Chapter Four; In which we discover power sans arrogance.

Boiling rage fumed and bubbled white-hot but Harry couldn’t find a reason for it. He was glad Remus was back; although rather taken aback at the abrupt return from work and not a little suspicious regarding the Headmaster’s involvement in the change. Draco had contented to leave him alone for the most part and he had managed to slip by Snape without so much as a third-degree glare. Thomas was doing exceptionally well in his studies and Herminone had been so engrossed in her research of this ‘elf magic’ that she had even turned down a trip to Hogesmede. He was happy for her; she hadn’t been so excited about anything to this level in a very long time. So why was he so angry? Why was he stalking these halls, black robes billowing and flicking behind him, shuttered glare casting about? Why was he so vehemently opposed to seeing a single living soul for as long as he could?

Why was he acting like Snape?

The man halted in his tracks, blinking absently as he tried to absorb that thought. I’ve been acting like Snape… The more I try to act like myself, the more and more I violently revert to Snape’s pattern of behavior… perhaps that is how I see myself now? He began walking again though at a much slower pace, eyes slightly unfocused. Is that how I would act instinctively? Naturally? If given free leave? Snape’s manner isn’t repulsive in the least, it’s protective. Protective of oneself, of one’s ability to observe and respond objectively. I’ve never known him to lie… omit truths of course and manipulate words; he’s Slytherin to the core… but is that so difficult to understand? He slowed, eyes unconsciously roving the cool walls of the hallway. No… not for me; I was almost placed in Slytherin after all; it is not so difficult, not in his position, after what he’s gone through…

Should I let go of the masks? Not all of them, of course, and not all right away; but should I begin to loosen them? To let others see that perhaps, just perhaps, I am not the man they think I am? Maybe I’m the wrong one to save them? His absent gaze fell over a large portrait of Salazar Slytherin, intricate detail and with a traditional sneer. It was not an arrogant sort of image, but one of power, one of knowledge of one’s power. Are you and I so different? In our choices, perhaps… What would you have done in my place; I wonder… Harry’s fingertips grazed over the gilded frame, elegantly wrought with serpents and, oddly enough, felines, lionesses. Fate’s a bitch, isn’t she? The portrait’s glare seemed to intensify. Harry took it as a yes.

He drew his wand and rolled it between his fingers… eleven inches with a phoenix feather core… one of two from that bird now perched in the Headmaster’s office. Yes, fate’s most definitely a bitch… why do I feel as though she’s about to have puppies? The wand was replaced and his gaze fell back over the portrait who stared back in stoic silence. How do you do it… you and he. That intense gaze that manages to whither even the most steeled in an instant. I can’t say I’m immune to it but repeated exposure seems to have dulled the knife. Such a depth… and yet, they reveal nothing… is that how I look now? Haunted, yet filled; searching, yet satisfied… powerful and knowledgeable… too much knowledge can be a bad thing.

The quiet hum that had slowly faded into something constant to be ignored suddenly picked up in volume and Harry turned to what he instinctively felt was the direction of the cause. The potions master, Severus Snape, had rounded the corner and drawn up suddenly upon seeing Harry. He scowled, but it held little of its usual malice. “Mister Potter. I assume you want to speak to me seeing as you’re standing outside my chambers.” I am not… He looked to the portrait who raised an eyebrow but did not speak. Harry’s gaze narrowed softly as he turned back to the elder man. “You might as well come in; I find worries go down better with soap than without.”

More proverbs, Professor? You might want to be careful or I may think you live by them. Snape walked toward the portrait and Harry turned his attention back to it as the professor suspended a series of incantations and wards. The stones beside Salazar’s portrait shifted among themselves and parted to reveal a door. Harry was moderately surprised, though he should not have been; he knew. The door opened and Snape disappeared inside. Harry followed but not before noticing a single lioness in that large frame extricate herself from the collection of felines and sit apart from them, golden eyes longingly cast in Harry’s direction. The defense teacher shook his head and turned away. Puppies indeed…

The first thing Harry noticed upon entering Snape’s quarters was the absolute space available to the man. On the left and far wall were floor to ceiling bookshelves that Hermione would have killed to comb through although the organization seemed to leave something to be desired. Aside from the full-to-bursting oak shelves there was precious little in the room. A massive desk, some stuffed chairs and a large fireplace complete with coffee table. There didn’t seem to be any specific color scheme, but then, there wasn’t any need for one. The deep wooden color of the furniture in combo with the dungeon walls and roaring fire gave the place a warm orange-yellow glow and a sense of masculine comfort. Harry bristled as wards brushed over his skin, testing, yet restrained by Snape’s previous mutterings. They seemed vaguely familiar, the wards. Of course they do, you’ve hung about the man for countless years, you know his magical patterns like your own. You made it a point to know them. He shook off the thoughts, gaze flicking over the room again.

Snape gestured to a chair and Harry took a seat while the man disappeared into a back room via a door on the right hand wall. A rather nondescript looking book on the coffee table caught the younger man’s eye. He lifted it, opening the cover to display the title page. Potions and Spells. Harry huffed softly, Well that’s helpful. He turned the page to find miniscule script. With a soft frown he flicked through the book; all pages had the same tiny writing save an occasional header. He skimmed a page that caught his interest.

Caecus Oculus and the Auctus Meus Charm.

Caecus Oculus, literally meaning ‘blind eye’ in combination with the Auctus Meus Charm can have devastating effects if preformed correctly. The Caecus Oculus potion is not easy to brew though it is hardly among the most difficult. Administered first, the potion will blind the afflicted for three hours. If the Auctus Charm is preformed immediately afterward, the afflicted will experience greatly heightened senses. Due to the potion’s blinding, however, that particular sense will not be effected and the magic focused on enhancing vision will bleed off to other senses, focusing them farther to the point of pain.

It is hardly necessary to mention the implications of such a situation. Any sound louder than a whisper would be painful while a shout could easily burst the eardrums. Any touch at all would be reminiscent of a physical Crucio while an offending taste or smell would be impossible to avoid. Sensation and nerve triggers would overwhelm the very mind and had the afflicted not yet passed out, the resulting swelling of the brain would do away with them in moments.

“If you’re done, I believe you have something you wish to tell me?”

Harry looked up, startled and guarded. He had not heard Snape return from the other room. A decanter of scotch sat on the table, a full glass before Harry and another in Snape’s loose grasp. He shook his head. “No, I was just wandering the halls…” He trailed off and looked back to the book in his hands. “This is ancient…”

“It was written some time in the late eighteen hundreds though the author never left any clue as to his identity.” Harry glanced up. Snape’s expression was carefully blank. “The writing is rather bland but the facts are correct as far as I know, and the combinations of both potion and spell are, in some cases, remarkable.” Pause. “Why, may I ask, were you wandering?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Harry lifted the glass and took a hesitant sip of the drink before turning to another page. Easy, Harry. Why’re you dropping hints? Hoping for a drop of sympathy from the old git? “Have you ever used any?”

Snape restrained a sarcastic huff though failed to keep it out of his voice. “Of course.” His mind was on Harry’s seemingly nonchalant confession though, not on their second conversation and he did not elaborate. Was his failing to sleep a common occurrence, or was tonight just one of those nights? “Would you like a sleeping potion.”

Harry opened his mouth to accept the offer and beg a late night; it was almost eleven and the professor probably had papers or some such to grade the in the morning. He was quite surprised to find himself declining with a light shake of his head. “No, they can become addictive.” Harry blinked and froze, no longer reading and every fiber of his being focused on Snape and his reaction. Great going Harry, just in case he didn’t get it before you had to make sure he knew. Smooth. Really smooth.

Snape, to his credit, didn’t react more than a blink and while he was gathering his thoughts, Harry softly closed the book and stood. “It’s late, I apologize for taking your time.” He turned and headed toward the door, prepared to leave and think the situation over for a few days on his own when Snape’s low voice called him back.

“You’re running.”

He stopped. Harry wondered briefly why it was always a pause that Snape’s comments caused. He closed his eyes and sighed inwardly. If only it was so simple… “I know.” And he left without turning back.

--//--

Severus remained in the chair with his decanter of scotch long after Harry left his rooms thinking, drinking, and mostly wishing for things that could never be. When Draco knocked softly on his door, Snape killed the wards with a wave of his hand, allowing the man entry. He was still brooding, though, and hardly gave him a cursory glance before the Malfoy slipped into the open bedroom to take a seat in front of the piano.

Silver-gold eyes wandered over the well, known instrument, but he didn’t play it just yet. Previous words skittered though his mind though only a single question and the odd response were given any time to mull over. What can you tell me? I have a gift for you, Draco. His elegantly supple fingers brushed over the keys filing the cold ivory with a brief warmth. What can you tell me?

That absent gaze suddenly hardened. What does it all mean? Draco was certain that this piano, the gift of the piano, had something to do with the question he had asked. Snape wasn’t going to tell him so he would have to figure it out on his own, and probably from the Golden-Boy himself. Obviously the direct approach wasn’t going to work, he had been trying for two years only to be brushed aside again and again as though his own feelings on the matter were inconsequential.

What can you tell me? I have a gift for you, Draco He’d have to befriend Potter, or at least, put up the pretense of friendship to get anything out of the man; it could take years. He could wait, but for how long would he have to do so? How long would he have to put on the mask and how would he be able to make it convincing enough?

He huffed his frustration quietly. It has something to do with me playing this damn instrument… He had never known Snape to change topics needlessly and that in itself was a clue he couldn’t decipher. With an annoyed sneer he settled his fingers and began playing Paul Spaeth’s brilliant composition. His frustrations and anger forced a hard sound into the notes as they built in the beginning, reaching, stretching, tumbling over themselves in a rush to the top where they abruptly perched only to pause and gently fall with the quite sounds of the night. They paused again and his thoughts came rushing back in time for the hard crescendo of sound and dramatic feeling that marked them all. The song soared with the direct precision of an eagle, or perhaps it struck with the lightening fast reflexes of the snake… either way, the ending notes were hard and fast and Draco found his anger bleed away. His inability to understand what the piano, or its song, meant to Harry’s absence would bring it back soon enough.

“You’re beautiful when you play.”

Draco jumped and turned on the seat to find Snape leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes slightly hazy.

“You must be drunk.”

Snape seemed to pause at that. After a moment he nodded once. “Yes, I believe that is correct. Though it doesn’t mean I’m not right.” He approached slowly. “You are beautiful, very much like your mother…” He swayed just slightly and Draco sprang from his seat to support the man.

“You are going to bed before you fall over.”

Snape collected his balance again and managed his clothes and the bed with very little difficulty and quite contrary to his brief lapse in vertigo. He was asleep, though, as soon as he hit the pillow, with Draco still off to the side, watching on. The defense teacher shook his head. Snape had a fantastic capacity for drink, and even intoxicated he had been able to manage himself. He guessed five or so glasses of firewhisky had put him off just enough see things a bit fuzzy but he was definitely coherent.

Draco closed the door to the bedroom silently and was about to leave when a bottle on the table caught his eye. He frowned and hefted the now empty decanter. Scotch? A whole bottle… By Salazar, that man can hold his drin- oh, wait. Draco had spotted Harry’s half-full glass. Company then. I wonder who… He replaced the bottle and exited as silently as he had come.

--//--

Severus blinked once, winced, blinked again, then cursed himself thoroughly and repeatedly. Once satisfied with the mental lashing he risked opening his eyes a third time. Goddamn… Failing that he took a stock of his situation. On his back in bed, his eyes hurt like the devil, and he knew, he just knew this was somehow his fault; he just couldn’t remember what he had done yet. He twitched a finger. Finding it didn’t send him into spasms of pain he curled his hands and slowly brought them up to cover his face and risked a low groan.

I need a new bottle of scotch now, don’t I? How he managed to get from the bed to the trunk at its base he had no idea, but there he was, clutching desperately at one bed post as he knelt on a rug and attempted to remember what wards he had placed over the container. That obstacle too, was overcome and he shifted through the contents searching for that milky liquid-filled vial. Ah… The drink was downed in one go.

Memories returned in bits and pieces, soon enough the potion had taken hold of his hangover and wrested it to the floor. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the last of the pain away. He heard a distant thump on his chamber door only an instant before lightening pain spliced his arm. With gritted teeth he staggered to his feet, one hand clamped, vice-like, over the Dark Mark. Magic tingled over his skin, warning him that someone was making their way though his wards… and not being hindered very much.

The pain ceased abruptly and with a gasp of air, Severus made for his cupboard, dawning the black, noncommittal robes of a Death Eater. The magic sparked around him and he heard his outer door open followed by a wrenched cry and another thump. Wand in hand, he gestured his door open and was momentarily stunned to find none other than Harry Potter in nothing more than briefs curled in on himself and shaking violently, hands tearing at the skin on his forehead. Severus raced forward, placing a body-bind on the man and quickly levitating him to the bedroom. The bind was released and a stronger one placed, one that would keep his arms and legs pinned but nothing more.

Harry arched off the bed with a wretched scream. His eyes flicked and he seemed to be struggling to gain some control over himself. “He… ‘s… found Remm… Hurry, Sever…us… careful… wolf…” Another scream tore itself from Harry’s throat but Severus was already gone, sprinting away from Hogwarts and taking to the air faster than he had ever answered a summons before.

He apparated in the air to his destination circling it once in the slow methodical way he had. It wouldn’t do to suggest he knew anything about the meeting just yet and breaking his routine would surly indicate something. The area was forest, dense and dark. It reminded him of the Forbidden Forest around Hogwarts grounds but the bite in the air and the surrounding mountains indicated they were far to the north. Dismounting from the broom he concealed it and approached the clearing he had seen where a few black-clad members had already collected, mask in place.

Snape took his position, formally Lucius’s spot, at what would be the Dark Lord’s right hand once he arrived. With hooded eyes he assessed the area quickly. More and more figures parted from the wood to join the circle, none of them so much as glancing in his direction. They knew his position and their own; they would not challenge him yet. A sharp crack startled a few figures when the Dark Lord appeared in the center of their circle. Each figure, Snape included, fell to their knees with heads bowed, shivering slightly as an intense wash of magic blew over them. He moved to his spot, lightly placing his scaly hand on Snape’s covered head as he did so. The professor willed himself into stillness.

Another sharp crack was punctuated by a fierce howl. Several Death Eaters flinched away but Severus rose and stepped forward, half in front of his Lord, wand drawn to what looked to be a mostly transformed werewolf. Gods… Lupin… I had no idea. True, Severus had been tricked in his early years by Potter and Black but at such a young age his focus had been on the action, not what had actually come after him. Now he watched in hidden horror for the first time, Remus in the middle of his transformation. It was hideous. And it looked rather painful. It’s nowhere near a full moon… he must have been forced to change… but- goddamn.

“You pleasssse me Severussss; ssstepping to defend when your brethren will not!” More than a few screams punctuated the word. The potions professor shivered at that hissed voice but replied as he had trained himself to do over the countless years. A hint of some intense emotion hovering behind his otherwise flat voice.

“What shall you have me do with him, my Lord?”

“Try to keep him away from Nagini for the time being.”

Severus knew better than to move the huge snake from wherever she wanted to go so he tossed a constriction around Lupin. The half-man struggled briefly against the confinement but when he discovered the compounded pain they inflicted he soon fell to his knees in the grasses, glaring daggers at the snake and various recovering Death Eaters in turn.

“My fellowsss, you sssee before you the one and only Remusss Lupin, cohort of Sssirus Black and Jamesss Potter. He isss currently resssiding in the castle, isssn’t it lucky we found him? Now we can return him to hisss home…” Severus twitched his wand, constricting the bonds just a bit more to cover the shiver Voldemort’s words had planted along his spine. Having one of the most powerful wizards on his back was not a comforting thing.

“We will return him after I have a little fun, but firssst; Ssseverus, do tell me of your progresss with young Malfoy and Missster Potter.”

Severus immediately knelt at the man’s feet, repressing a shiver when that hand took its spot atop his head. “My Lord, both of them are working as Defence teachers at Hogwarts. I managed to convince Dumbledore that having them work in tandem would increase the instruction of the students.”

“Good, very good.”

“I have also brought the piano from my home into my chambers where Malfoy has begun to set a pattern for playing once more. Potter had been relocated into the dungeons upon Lupin’s arrival and I shared a drink with him in my chambers last night.”

“Excellent work, Ssseverus. I am impresssed by your punctuality.”

“Only to please you, my Lord, but I must ask for your patience-“ He was interrupted sharply.

“In what matter?”

“The animosity between Potter and Malfoy grew sharply after Lucius’s death, my Lord. It will take some doing to build over it.”

“You could ussse a potion.”

“Yes, my Lord, but a relationship based on a potion may not be strong enough for your needs. They must come together willingly-“

“Very well, you will have your time. But I expect resssultssss, Ssseverusss.”

The professor winced as that clawed hand tightened its grip. “Of course, my Lord; I have already begun on the problem.”

The hand softened, became a light caress. “Ahh… you are the perfect ssservant, Ssseverusss; far better than Luciusss ever wasss.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

The hand disappeared but Severus remained in his crouched position. Behind him he could hear Lupin straining again at his bonds, despite the pain.

“He isss finished. Look, Ssseverusss.”

He stood and turned away from the Dark Lord, black eyes falling on the werewolf, restrained in his bonds but stretching his luck by snapping at Nagini. Severus flicked his wand and a golden band materialized around the wolf’s jaws, effectively muzzling him. The snake glared in his direction.

“Now, now, my pet. He wasss merely concsserned for your well-being; were you not?”

“Indeed, my Lady. I have no wish for you to be harmed.” He was lying through his teeth but that had become a common occurrence when in the presence of the snake… both of them, for that matter.

“Come, let usss play…” The snake obediently slithered through the grasses. “Releassse him, Ssseverusss.”

With a flick of his wand the bonds were gone and Lupin was streaking across the circle headed full-tilt toward the Dark Lord. He leapt, saliva dripping from gaping jaws and talons outstretched when he crumpled against an invisible barrier that shimmered a sickly green before vanishing again. The werewolf whined softly as he regained his feet, red eyes fixed on Voldemort. Again he leapt with a snarl and again he struck the barrier.

He moved away from the Dark Lord, then, stalking the inside of the circle, striking out now and again with talons and teeth, testing the strength and location of the magical field that imprisoned him. The werewolf paused and sniffed at the ground, suddenly digging rapidly at the border of the field. It glowed briefly every time his talons scraped the edge. The digging was soon abandoned, the field extended below ground. He maneuvered his way back to the center of the circle, glancing briefly upwards. A stretch indicated that the field was indeed domed. There was no way out.

Lupin quivered in that spot, glaring at the Dark Lord.

“Ah, look my pet, he isss ready to lisssten. A quick learner, thisss one.”

Nagini moved forward, into the field and Lupin pounced. The field extended around the snake as well but that didn’t stop him from trying his best to get at her anyway.

“Ssseverusss, do ssstart the fun.”

With a mental apology, Severus pointed his wand and murmured. “Fulgur Attono.” Lightening raced along the grayish blue fur, setting it to end and ripping the werewolf’s attention from Nagini to his own pain. He howled, collapsing on the ground only when Snape lifted the spell after what seemed like an eternal moment for the both of them. The next man took his turn as soon as Lupin struggled to his feet, casting a brief spell involving blue fire. The wolf howled again, though his voice was cracking, becoming more and more rough as his torture continued.

It went like that around the circle. A spell being cast, loud wails, Lupin gaining his feet only to be cast down again. The man had a strength that rivaled any Snape had ever seen before, or perhaps that was the werewolf that had pronounced vendetta against the Dark Lord and would stop at nothing to get to him.

One of the newer members of the group cast his spell, an intricate little tidbit that sent Lupin into a fit of seizures. Voldemort reacted instantly, throwing a countercurse to Lupin and the Cretaceous at the Death Eater. “Do not kill him you idiot! How isss he suppossse to serve his purposesss when he is dead?! Perhapsss you would like to take hisss place!!” The man couldn’t answer through his screams, his body contorting itself into impossible twists and jerking knots. The curse continued long after his voice had been scraped away and his eyes had clouded over. When Voldemort lifted his wand the body remained twitching every now and again with the remnants of the curse though the man was long dead.

The space now empty in the circle was silently filled by the quiet shifting of bodies. Snape watched it all in stoic silence, black gaze hard and unfeeling. The Dark Lord sighed audibly and tapped his fingers against his wand. “Ssseverusss you will take him back to the castle and insssure he isss healed and that no sssuspicion is raisssed. “

“Yes, my Lord.”

The wizard then outstretched his hands and begun chanting, a low, old language that Severus couldn’t identify. Voldemort drew with his wand in the air a series of runes that glowed purple and white then melted.” The man then chuckled. Lupin’s body began contorting itself back into human.

“Ssseverusss. A word will trigger hisss transformation; a word not commonly used among ssstudents but that is occasssionally heard. It will be sssudden and dramatic, be sure you are there to obssserve. I have linked your Mark with hisss transssformation and three vials of counter sssolution are in your coat. Ussse them if you must, I do not wish any sssuspicion directed toward you in the leassst.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Severus bowed, then, low and eyes downcast. With a crack, the Dark Lord was gone.

The circle instantly broke apart; no one actually ran, but no one was walking slowly either. Severus levitated Lupin’s now human body and, collecting his broom, apparated to the Forbidden Forest.

--//--

By the time Severus returned to his rooms it was midday. He had taken Remus to the infirmary, informing Poppy of the various spells cast on his body. She tisked and shook her head repeatedly as she went to work, healing, mending, sewing. Once he was sure the man would be alright he reported to Albus. There he spent many an hour, talking and sipping tea. They pondered over what the trigger word could possibly be and came up with a few probable answers. Each of them proved to be wrong, though, when they both visited Remus to test their theories.

He opened his chamber door with a shake of his head and a mental sigh. It had been a trying morning and all he wanted was some time to himself. A movement in his bedroom caught his eye and he abruptly remembered having restrained Harry to the bed. He was rather surprised to find the younger wizard sitting cross-legged on the coverlet, eyes downcast, still in his briefs. Harry looked up as Snape entered the bedroom, eyes worried.

“How is he…?”
Snape looked away. “It could have been worse… he will recover.” Taking a deep breath he began again. “There is something I must apolo-“

“I know.” Harry interrupted. “I don’t blame you.”

The potions master’s brow furrowed. “You know?”

Harry nodded, eyes downcast again. “I saw it all. The snake... Nagini. I was watching though her.”

“And what possessed you to come to my rooms at five am and not the Headmaster’s?”

The younger wizard lay back on the bed, his eyes searching the ceiling for an answer. “You were closer at the time, easier to get to.”

“Yes, on that note.” Severus watched tension flood Harry’s body, stringing him like a bow. He didn’t bother to ask the question.

“I know your magical signature like the back of my hand, I took them apart from the inside.”

“In the middle of a vision…”

Harry’s only reply was to close his eyes and let out a heavy breath.

“Why didn’t you slip out of the binding charms?”

“I didn’t want to loose the connection I had. I released them when you apparated back here with Remus and I knew you were safe.” His eyes remained closed and one hand curled under a pillow.

Severus was fascinated by the sudden play of emotion over the wizard’s normally bland face. In the midst of his observation, though, Harry suddenly closed off again and he felt a pain of regret that he hadn’t been able to see further into that complex mind. Weariness abruptly caught up with the both of them; Severus that he had survived another meeting with the Dark Lord and Harry from almost constant pain and a drastic lack of sleep. He was, Severus noticed absently, not moving from the bed. And that bed was looking quite comfortable.

Punctuated by a yawn Snape spelled his robes to some corner or another and pulled one of his chairs alongside his four-poster. Within moments he had transfigured the chair into a comfortable, if small bed. Harry’s sleeping form was levitated to the second mattress and tucked in. Snape took his own bed with another yawn and spelled the lights out. Had the situation been anything other than what it was he would have never considered sleeping with Harry in the room but he couldn’t bring up the energy to care just now and fell asleep with the thought that Harry was already out cold.

--//--

Two Weeks Captive

He knew every inch of the wall at his back as though it was a second skin. There was a rough bump just above his left shoulder blade that continually irritated his skin so that it constantly bled. There was another bump around his right hip bone that did the same thing. Various other inconsistencies dug into his back at various points, depending on how he moved. He had learned very quickly what his limits in movement where not only by the manicals around his wrists and ankles, but in wandless magic as well. Lucius was no fool, unfortunately. The man only visited him twice every day, once around what Harry had deduced to be his lunch hour, noon to one, and a second time around three am, when everyone else was asleep. That left him with lots of time to think and a lot of time to loose his mind.

To distract himself he worked on pushing his magical limits. He couldn’t perform any magic at all, but he could expand his mental awareness of the area around him. He did that now, focusing inwardly to center his magical power away from his mind. That had been the most difficult part, separating himself from his magic. It had become his air and blood, but he knew a time when magic was just a fairytale and he pulled on that memory to make it happen now. Mind stripped of anything wizardly at all, he sent it forth, pausing at what he saw in his mind as a brick wall. It encircled him completely, unmoving and firm. Without his magic, things magical became physical obstacles for his mental self to overcome.

This particular barrier had taken him almost the two weeks he had been here to figure out and while he knew the trick to getting past it, the deed was still a difficult task. He ran a tendril of thought over the bricks, the equivalent of a hand, pressing gently, feeling for the weakness he had found the other day in the mortar of the bricks. He had come across it completely by accident but now, as he sought it out again, he began looking for some sort of pattern or key that could tell him where it was.

As before he ran into it by accident, one brick that shifted slightly as he pressed on it. With a mental frown he pushed harder and was wrenched back to his physical body in time to catch the full force of an electrical jolt. Harry twitched against the wall, teeth gritted against the sensation of physical pain that had become so familiar in the past days.

--//--

He awoke with a wrenching gasp the instant a cool hand came into contact with his forehead. His eyes focused on a stone-faced Severus and Harry only just managed to avoid hexing the man in surprise. Harry collapsed back on the bed screwing his eyes shut and running his hands down his face, wincing as they stung the still healing scratches around his scar.

“You were screaming.”

Harry let out a hoarse laugh and brought his hands down. “Yes. I have a tendency to do that.” The sarcasm was so thick he could swim in it.

“Are they always that bad?”

Harry closed his eyes again trying to remember what he had dreamed. It wasn’t anything life changing, well, the situation notwithstanding; only physical pain and that itself on the weak side. “No, that was considerably mild in the grand scope of things.”

That gave Severus pause and Harry time for his wits to fully return. He remembered stumbling into Snape’s rooms early in the morning then nothing until coming to himself around seven and waiting for the man to return from his meeting with Dumbledore. He didn’t remember climbing into bed or falling asleep but he often took a few hours after a vision like that to recover. He felt the somehow comforting weight of Snape perched on the side of the bed and was struck by the exceedingly odd picture they probably made. Harry in his briefs, in a second bed, in Snape’s rooms. The elder professor himself on said bed and, here Harry lifted his gaze, buck-naked. Why didn’t that bother him?

Why did it feel more like home than his own house?

“Why does Tom need Draco and I together?”

Snape stilled on the bed, silent for a long moment. Harry shifted, sitting up to catch the older man’s arm when he moved away. Severus turned to look at the disheveled wizard. They remained like that for a time; each searching the other for an answer besides the truth that they both could believe. He answered at length. “He’s found… or made… a spell that will bind your powers. He then plans to drain the both of you and take them for himself. I don’t know how he plans to do either and until I do, I have to give him results… I still haven’t been assured of my position and any semblance of a wrong move can have devastating consequences for both me and the Order. I can only hope you recognize the gravi-“

“I know.”

Snape shut his mouth abruptly but delivered a hard stare.

“I’m not a child anymore, Snape. I know what your position does for us, and could do to us. I’m not about to compromise that with ignorant actions.” He took a deep breath. “What do I need to do?”

The traditional smirk twitched at Severus’s lips. “Shower and dress, for starters. Then we can talk.”

--//--

The pair of men settled before the fire much as they had the previous night, both quietly sipping a cup of tea (seeing as the potions professor hadn’t the time yet to replenish his supply of scotch). Snape was dressed in his normal layers of black and Harry in a set of borrowed robes that fit remarkably well (a fact that didn’t elude either of them). They remained like that, in companionable silence for quite some time both lost in their thoughts and would have done so, perhaps, for many more hours had a house elf not popped into the room to deliver a tray of sandwiches and biscuits.

Harry fell on the food like one starved while Snape snorted but refrained from dressing down the man’s eating habits. He instead, took the opportunity to begin what would no doubt be a difficult conversation.

“In order to successfully pair the both of you, I believe it would be prudent to discover where your sexual preferences lay.”

Harry brought his cup down slowly, eyes guarded. “We don’t have to become lovers to pull this off, do we?”

“Gods, I hope not. You and Draco working together? Voluntarily? Let’s not bring the world to a premature cataclysmic end, hmm? You’re avoiding my question.”

“Yes and for good reason. You’re hardly the person I think of when looking for a match-maker.”

Snape glowered from his chair, leaning forward slightly. “And this is hardly my choice of profession, now get over whatever modesty you’ve developed and answer the question.”

Harry glared back. “Only if you do the same.”

A look of… something passed over Snape’s features but Harry couldn’t hold onto it long enough to identify it. “You’re certainly in a position to make demands.”

“Oh but I am, you want my cooperation, you’ll have to earn it.”

“You offered it not a half hour ago.” Severus smirked triumphantly and sat back in his chair. “Now. Male, or female.”

Harry settled for a hollow glare but in the end, answered. “Both.” Then he paused. “What about Draco? This’ll be rather difficult if he’s not into blokes.”

“It’s already rather difficult. If memory serves you haven’t yet given him any explanation. I highly doubt you’ll be going anywhere without fixing that rift first and foremost. As to his preferences, Draco is quite gay; I can assure you.”

Two things in that reply caught Harry off guard. The first, and most obvious was the blatant accusation tossed at him regarding the man in question’s father. The second was the word ‘gay’ coming from the mouth of his former professor. The dual blow ripped his footing away and he pin wheeled backwards as fast as he could, trying to find something firm to stand on. The professor beat him to it.

“You realize that Draco can’t be informed of these plans. No matter how willing he is to go against the Dark Lord, if your… liaison isn’t at least half-way genuine than it’ll be impossible for-“

“Wait a minute. Why can’t we both fake it? Both Draco and I can,” He gestured absently, “Transform our animosity into something else; we’ve done it before, and still make it look real. The snake can cast his spell, it won’t work and if we’re lucky it’ll do some damage to him when it fails; that’s another plan dead in the water and you don’t take the wrap for it.”

Severus closed his eyes with a sigh. “Ever the eternal optimist, I see. And what happens when it’s discovered that you’re charade is a lie?”

“You can ‘what if’ till you puke, it won’t change anything. What if I was straight? What if I was actually in love with Draco? What if I wasn’t Harry Potter but someone else on polyjuice, wringing you for clues?”

“What if you hold your tongue for a minute? I’ve already spoken with Albus about this … situation. He thought it best that Draco was not informed and until we resolve this problem you could at least be civil to the man.”

A knock interrupted their banter. Both men looked sharply to the door.

“Speak of the devil.” Muttered Harry.

“Indeed.” Severus deactivated his wards and Draco stepped through the door, quickly recovering from his surprise at finding Harry in the room.

“I didn’t realize you had company, I’ll come back later.”


Severus was quick to answer. “No!”

Draco paused, Harry shot Snape a look. Severus returned it. With a huff, Harry spoke. “No, sit here.” He moved to sit on the wide hearth before the fire. Draco eyed the both of them warily but took the seat. Snape poured a third cup of tea and offered it to Draco, refilling Harry’s as he did so.

They sat.

Harry stared at Snape. Severus pointedly refused to look back at Harry. Draco looked back and forth between them and when no one said a word he plunked his drink down on the table, causing them both to jump. “By Salazar, what has gotten into you two?!”

Harry placed his drink on the table and stood, saying. “I’ll tell you as soon as I have a conversation with the Headmaster.” After a brief moment he found the floo powder and vanished from the room. Draco blinked. Severus groaned and fell back into his chair muttering something about stubborn, impulsive gryffindors.

--//--

AN: Please review!