Pledges

Part 21

As soon as the door was closed, Ron clamped a hand onto Harry's arm and dragged him bodily
into the next room.

Ron closed the door with a slam and spit out, "Are you out of your bloody mind??"

He knew it'd been too easy. He walked over and collapsed on the neatly made bed in the center of
the room. Without looking up, he answered. "Were you listening to the same story I was listening
to?"

"Listening, yes. Believing, no."

"Ron..."

Ron walked over to him and forced their gazes to meet. "Harry, what's really going on?"

Giving in to the urge to roll his eyes. "Exactly what you were told." Don't be a moron.

Ron turned away. "I don't believe it."

Somehow. He wasn't surprised at Ron's reaction. "Why?"

"Because you're not stupid enough to fool with your wand like that." Ron finished decisively,
looking inordinately pleased witmselmself.

Will wonders never cease. "Actually, Ron. I am."

Shocked eyes peered at him. "What were you thinking?"

"I think it's been pretty well established that I wasn't."

Those eyes narrowed with suspicion again. "Are you absolutely sure that he didn't have
something to do with this?"

"Absolutely." Unwaveringly, unquestionably, without a doubt, all his fault. Hermione at
practically diagramed it for him.

"So, what's it been like?" Curiosity laced his friend's voice.

Harry's head shot up. "What's what been like?"

"Being stuck with Snape all the time."

Oh. That. He shrugged listlessly. "It's not as bad you think. He's in the same boat too."

Surprise and revulsion went across the red head's face. "You mean, he- eeew."

He just shook his head. Not ‘eeew'. That was the problem. "Ron, I need my best friend right
now."

"I knew something was wrong."

Don't make this harder, Ron. "No. Not like that."

"Then what?" Open ositosity.

"I..." He... He what?

"What is it?" Ron crossed the room again and sat next to him on the bed.

"I'm not sure."

"Not sure of what?"

He sighed. "Everything."

"Everything?"

Harry nodded. Choosing his words carefully, he began to speak again. "This... situation... It's
made me think about things. Things, I don't know, that maybe I was thinking about before. Its all
a blur now. What I was feeling before, what I'm feeling now."

"What you're feelnow?now?"

This would be too easy if Ron actually understood what he was talking about. "Ron, I'm...
attracted to him... really... *really* attracted to him." There. He'd said it. The world didn't end.
Who would have thought?

Disgust swam across Ron's face. "Ugh. Harry-"

"No, Listen to me." He cut Ron off. "Let me finish. I've had a good panic attack coming on for
days. Let me have it in peace"

Ron made andr exr exaggerated ‘after you' gesture. "Go on."

"We kissed." "He "He kissed you!"

"No!" Harry quickly corrected, "I kissed him, at least I started it. I don't think, in the end, he had
much choice in resisting it."

"Ok. So you," Ron gulped, "kissed."

"It was, really good."

"Harry, you're my best friend, but we're starting to enter territory I didn't even want to know
existed let alone hear about."

"Sorry. Its just that, I asked him about it. About liking... other . He. He gave me some advice that
I thought I understoo the the time. But now I think I didn't."

"What'd he say?"

"‘Hands are hands. Mouths are mouths. People are people. Love is love. They just have many
different forms.'"

Ron had on his, ‘that's the most confusing thing I've ever heard' face. "What is that supposed to
mean?"

"I thought," He began slowly, "that it was his way of saying, I shouldn't worry about it. I think,
he thinks that when the spell wears off, I won't have these feelings anymore."

"Well, you't."'t." Ron said to him decisively. "So you shouldn't worry."

Shaking his head sadly. "I don't think so. I think he was saying something else at the same time."

"What else could he possibly be saying?"

"That... that it's ok."

"That what's ok?"

Honestly, were all his friends this dense? "That its ok if the feeling doesn't... go away."

Ron shook his head. "Of course it's going to go away."

"No, Ron. I don't think it is. It feels like the first time I used floo powder. I was scared as hell to
just walk into an open flame, now... it doesn't seem like such a big deal."

Ron gulped at his words and looked at him seriously for a few moments. "You don't want to kiss
anyone else do you? You don't want to" gulp, "kiss me?"

"Actually. Yes. I'd like to kiss someone else. Compare notes. He's got this thing he does with his
tongue that I'd like to try on some hapless victim. As for you Ron, don't be a git."

"I'm not being a git."

"No. Sorry. You're not. You're being accepting and offering me wise advice. You're not
questioning me every other sentence and making this harder than that it already is."

"Hey. Point that sarcasm at someone else, will you?"

Glare.

"Alright. Sorry. I'm here and I'm being supportisee?see?"

Wow. Maybe Snape had the right idea. "I just needed to talk about it."

"Harry. You can talk to me about it anytime. Just don't bring Snape into it."

Now that was a problem. Because if liking another man was confusing, liking Snape was enough
to make ‘The-boy-who-lived' become ‘The-boy-who-crawled-under-a-rock-and-never-came-
back-out'. Maybe he could talk to Hermione. Girls understood strange things like that. But Ron
was at least making an effort. "Thank you."

Sheepish shoulders shrugged. "S'what I'm here for."

Putting on his best, wide eyed, school boy expression, Harry asked, "Is *that* what it was?"

"Sod off." The retort held no malice. Maybe things would be alright after all.

Harry gestured at the door. "I need to be getting back." He paused for a moment. "We've been in
the habit of... saving up just in case."

"Saving up?"

Say it without scaring him. "The touching."

Ron's face twitched, but all he said was, "Oh."

"I'll just be going."

He was almost at the door when Ron spoke again. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll always be your friend."

"Thanks."

He walked back across the hallway and into his rooms.

And came face to face with Cornelius Fudge, two Aurors and one very brassed off Professor.

Part 22

The Bastard! The useless, arrogant, self-aggrandizing, officious, interfering, sycophant,
BASTARD.

Snape curled his lips in disgust. "I am not taking that."

Cornelius Fudge looked at him with scorn. "You're not getting out of this, Snape. Take the
verituserum."

"The answer, once more, is an unquestionable, resounding, NO."

Fudge looked smug. "Then you'll have to come with us."

Fool. Should hex him into tomorrow.

"I'll do nothing of the sort."

"What's going on?" Harry asked from the doorway.

Only Snape had known when he'd come in. Everyone else was startled by the comment.

Fudge quickly dismissed him. "It's nothing that concerns you."

"I think it does." Harry stuck his head out doo door, "Ron! Get the Headmaster!"

"Why did you do that?" Fudge asked obviously not comprehending how angry Harry was.

Harry glared. He was getting good at that. "I really think the question is, why wasn't he here in
the first place?"

Smart boy.

Hedging. "We couldn't find him."

"Did you try is office?" Harry asked.

"Of course he didn't, that would have been to logical thing t." H." He responded before Fudge
could get in a word.

Muttered. "Be quiet, S."
."

Harry moved further into the room, coming stand at his side. "Why do you want him to take
verituserum?"

Why does he care?

Fudge trying to sound as authoritative as possible said, "That's none of your business."

Harry straitened up fractionally. "I think it is."

"Don't interfere with Ministry busi."
."

"I will interfere with anything I wanten ien it includes harassing my friends."

Friends? They were friends? He supposed between the sniping and the entirely inappropriate
snogging they had come to some sort of truce. But friends?

Fudge, in his typical manner chose not to understand. "But we're not harassing anyone you care
about."

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously. "But you are. This man saved my life and I want to know
why you're bothering him when he should be resting."

He noted, that matter how often or how hard he provoked him, that look at never been aimed in
his direction.

Who knew the boy had teeth.

"You can't be serious. You can't possibly trust him."

"With my life." The certainty that edged Harry's voice surprised him.

He really trusted him. At least, the spell really trusted him. He found himself aborting a movement
that would have landed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Fudge looked smug. "Then taking the verituserum shouldn't be a problem."

He leveled his best sneer at Fudge. "There is no force on this earth that will make me willingly
take *any* potion you hand me."

"We just need to confirm that you were on the right side."

"And what side is that Fudge? The side that refused to believe he was back? Or the side that
actually did something about it."

He took great pleasure in watching Fudge stutter with anger and turn a lovely orange. He was
having great success at that recently.

Sputtering. "I can't believe you of all people are questioning my loyalties."

"Not your loyalties," Allowing a malicious smile, "just your competence."

Funny, he'd never noticed that vein before.

"Why you-"

"Why Cornelius, so good to see you again."

Albus really should consider changing his wardrobe to include tights and a cape.

"Dumbledore, a... pleasure as always."

Arse kisser. Bad arse kisser. Unconvincing arse kisser.

A congenial smile graced the Headmaster's face. "Now what seems to be the problem?"

Fudge is a doddering old fool. That should have been obvious.

"I was just telling Snape, that either he takes the verituserum and answer my questions or he
comes with us back to the ministry."

"Did he refuse to answer your questions?"

He's being reasonable. Brilliant defense. Except, of course, when the person you're arguing with
wouldn't know a sound argument if it ran over them with a broom.

"What?" Fudged asked.

"Did he refuse to answer your questions? Is that why you're insisting on the verituserum?" Albus
delivered the question in the same rational tone of voice he used while scolding a petulant first
year. Somehow, it fit.

"I'm insisting," Fudge persevered, "because he can't be trusted."

Albus just shook his head. "Cornelius. I'll have to insist you stop that at once."

Oh yes. *That* will work.

"Yout tot to know what happened?" Harry spoke up with an angry snarl. "I'll tell you what
happened. Voldemort appeared. He attacked us. We killed him. The end."

"You?" Fudge looked between them confused.

"Us. So go ahead. Arrest the OTHER savior of the wizarding world. I'll be along in a minute,
first I've got an owl to write to the Daily Prophet.

Savior? Good lord. The boy certainly knew how to throw around his adjectives.

Back tracking immediately. "Now, there's no need for that."

"And there's no need for this." Harry's tone held such contempt. The vehemence in the statement
surprised him.

Harry had stepped directly between him and the miserable excuse for a paper pusher. "Professor
Snape can be trusted with my life. If that doesn't answer ALL of your questions, you need to
rethink your priorities."

"How can you trust him?"

"Simple." Harry crossed his arms and grinned all knowingly, "I'm not an idiot."

Well, well, never could accuse him tact.

Fudge looked ready to implode.

All in all, not an altogether sad state of affairs.

"Come, Cornelius," Albus said, in his most placating voice, "Let's go to my office and discuss this
and let Severus rest up some more. He's had a trying week."

Trying?

TRYING?

What an enormous, massive, practically planetary, understatement.

"Fine. It would be a good opportunity to hear the full course of events from Mr. Potter."

"I'm sorry Cornelius. Harry is not allowed to leave the infirmary yet. Poppy's orders."

Jaw clenched. "Fine." If Fudge wasn't careful, he'd break something, the way he was tense like
that, "We'll talk. Later."

They exited the room.

He turned to Harry. "I'm not your friend."

"Of course not." Obnoxious brat smiled at him.

"What," he sneered, "was that... display, anyway?"

With a look of disgust, Harry answered. "That was moron, trying to look good."

An irritated glare was thrown in the boys direction. "Not him, you."

Baleful eyes looked at him. "If you have to ask, then it hasn't been done enough."

"What hasn't been done enough?"

In a low quiet voice. "Defending you."

He found himself unable to formulate a response for that.

Part 23

Harry walked through the hallways quickly, in an effort to dissuade anyone who might think it
was a good idea to talk to him.

Talking meant lying. Lying meant thinking. Thng mng meant... something. To decide what it
meant, meant thinking. Ugh. Paradox.

Must stop spending time with know-it-all potions masters who like to manipulate him for shits
and giggles.

To be fair, Snape wasn't manipulating him, he was just being stubborn. Very, VERY stubborn.

Any efforts to talk about ‘the incident in question' had been met with a firNo.'No.'

After several frustrating attempts, he excused himself and said that he needed to talk to Hermione.

He found her in the common room, reading a very large and dusty tome.

"Hermione."

She looked up and blinked. "Harry! He let you out of the infirmary?"

"Who let me out?"

"Snape."

He wasn't going to think about what that implied. "Why would he have anything to do with that?"

She looked at him for a moment. He felt like a specimen in some wacky experiment. "Harry. How
much has either The Headmaster or Professor Snape told you about this?"

Was she off her rocker? "Ssssh! Don't talk about it here!"

She rolled her eyes. "Them's m's empty. Sit down and tell me how much you know about this
charm."

He sat down. "Pretty much what I told you."

"That's what I thought. The Headmaster gave me this book to read. He told me to read it and
then talk to you. I *know* he hasn't read it himself."

"How do you know that."

"Because when he handed it to me he said, ‘There are some things that old men and headmasters
need not know.' I took that as a clue." She

"Why would he say that?"

"That's what I was wondering. Then I read the book."

He wished she would just spit it out. "And?"

She gave him a perplexed look. "Let's just say it sheds some light on the situation."

"Then why wouldn't he want to read it himself."

She looked like she wasn't sure what to say. "Ah... Because I think he knew what it was going to
say. Or at least had a pr goo good idea."

She was stalling. That wasn't a good sign. If Hermione was shoving some new fact down your
throat, something was wrong. "What does it say?"

"It doesn't really go into many details about modern use of the spell. What it *does* talk about
are its roots. What it was originally intended for."

"Aaaand?" He was going to hurt her if she didn't speed this up.

"Well," she began, "have you ever heard of the term ‘Shield-Brother'?"

He searched his memory. "It sounds familiar."

She nodded. "It was briefly mentioned in Muggle Studies and The History of Magic. For muggles,
its part of a larger myth about ancient Rome and Greece."

"And for wizards?"

Her face scrunched up a bit. "Well, for one thing, its not a myth."

"Not a myth?"

"No, not a myth." She stopped again. Looked even more uncomfortable and continued.
"Apparently, over a thousand years ago, there was a great war A long and horrible war. The
wizards of the time were looking for ways to improve their chances of surviving. Better fighting
techniques, offense, defense, etc. Someone took the muggle myth and created reality."

He shook his head. "I don't see how this would make you fight better, personally, its an incredible
distraction."

She smiled at him triumphantly. "That's because you weren't hit with the original version of the
spell. The original version didn't create attraction, just an extra sensory awareness."

Well, that was interesting. "So what does that tell me?"

"Well, as far as I can tell... You've been affected by a... mutated version of it."

"Mutated?" That didn't sound good. In fact, that sounded bad. Very, very bad.

She got up and began to pace. "Well, the original spell was used to bind two wizards together,
but it wasn't arbitrary. They chose it. They already had the type of relationship that could be
qualified as... close."

Close? What the hell did she mean by close? "What did it do?"

"It doesn't go into many specifics, just something about a better working relationship."

Well, that could almost describe what had happened.

She stopped in front of him and hesitated a moment. "It's just that. There was a little more, two
things actually."

This wasn't enough? "What is it Hermione?"

"Well, I don't know how much this applies to you, after all, this isn't the exact spell that was
used."

She was hedging. It was becoming very annoying. "Just tell me, Hermione!"

"Ah, well first... well... it didn't explicitly say this, as much as it implied it." She paused, gathering
herself. "Most of the people who used this... they viewed it as marriage. In fact, I think it was.
Legally binding, that is."

Erk! WHAT? "Marriage?"

"Well... from what I read... it does seem kind of... Intimate."

Gah! Another one of those scary words. "I'm almost afraid to ask what the other thing is."

"It seems..." she started again, "there also had to be intent."

"What?" WHAT!

"Intent." She said again, this time more sure of herself. "You had to want it to happen."

"But that doesn't make sense! This spell was for an arranged marriage!"

"No." She corrected him. "The spell that you originally cast was for an arranged marriage. The
spell this book talks about, wasn't."

"Ah. Anything else?" Not that his heart could take it.

"Well. The end of the book goes into how the spell was changed."

"And?" Nothing. Let it be nothing. We all lived happily ever after.

"Well, the big difference between the old and the new, besides the attraction that is, is in the
second part of the spell. The original spell was supposed to take place over the course of several
days. The new one had both parts happen almost simultaneously. They also changed certain
words..." She stopped and a blush spread over her cheeks.

"That's where the.. Er... attraction comes in." She offered him a small supportive smile and
rushed on. "It seems you used the new version for part one. Waited an amount of time that
approached the original, instead of doing both parts at the same time and then The Headmaster
used the original for part two."

He was confused. "I thought he hadn't read this book."

"He didn't." She confirmed.

He shook his head in resignation. "Only because it's The Headmaster does that make sense. That
still doesn't explain why he gave it to you to read."

She looked uncomfortable again and he began to worry. "There... ah... was one more thing."

"Just spit it out..." He was really beginning to wish he'd stayed with Snape and continued arguing.

"Ah... I don't think the... ah... compulsion... is going to go away. Actually, I'm surprised you've
resisted this long."

Oh dear. Well, chalk one up for self control. "Ah... Hermione..."

"You haven't!"

"Not... really..."

"What have you done, Harry?"

"I... that is... we... it felt inevitable, Hermione... and it was... um... a lot of thingsuallually..."

The faint blush on her cheeks spread to the rest of her face, "What exactly did you do?"

What did they do? Oh lord, if he could put it into words... "We kissed." Understatement of the
bloody century. "And... touched... but we didn't... you know... get undressed..."

"And you..."

"Yes." Boy did he.

"Frottage then." She suddenly looked more comfortable. Probably had something to do with big
words. Pavlov would have a field day. "How do you feel?"

Feel? How did he feel? He felt out of control. He felt preposterous. He felt... no crawling. Well,
not as intense as before. "I think... I could go for hours without losing my concentration."

She nodded as if she'd been expecting that. "That's what I thought. The book never mentioned an
instance of the new version not being consummated."

Gulp. Consummated.

"And the original version well... like I said... I think it was the equivalent of marriage."

"So you're saying that now..."

"No... I don't think that what... you did... would... ah... qualify... magically, that is... And... I
don't think that... once would be enough... Because of how long the newer version of the first
part of the spell was in affect, among other things... it was supposed to last for several months
anyway."

He nodded dumbly.

"There's one more thing."

MORE? He was beginning to hate her.

"Because The Headmaster used the older version, whether intentionally or not, to complete the
spell, the fact that it worked, means, that on some level, you wanted it."

"Wanted it?"

"Both of you."

"Both of us?"

"I doesn't necessarily mean what you're thinking. Just having been affected by the first part for
that long could have influenced you." She didn't sound convinced.

"But you don't think that's what it is." It wasn't a question. But then, he'd worked enough things
out to know the answer, at least for him. Not that he was ever going to admit it.

"No." She shook her head. "I don't think the spell would be fooled by another spell."

"So," he began carefully, knowing full well he'd probably have to repeat at least some of this, "on
some level, we both wanted... something... from each other."

"In basic terms. Yes."

That was... that was.... Oh, he had no idea what that was. He wasn't sure he was ready to think
about what that was. "Hermione, if I had walked up to you few days ago and told you I preferred
guys, what would you have said?"

Without a blink she answered. "What took you so long?"

Part 24

Snape stalked through the hallways almost grateful that Poppy had finally released him. The
hospital was getting downright dangerous. Anymore annoying little intrusions in the form of
insufferable twits or hormonal excursions perpetrated by annoying brats and he'd set the place on
fire.

He just wanted to be left alone. For however long he could handle it. Apparently the universe felt
that was too much to ask. It made that abundantly clear when he nearly tripped over Draco
Malfoy on the way to his dungeons.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, how can I help you?" Go away. Far away. Forget that he existed.

The blonde looked down at his feet. "They haven't found him."

"They haven't found who?" Like he had to ask.

Draco looked at him with a stoic face. "My father."

"They haven't found him?" He could have handled that br ifr if he'd stood there gaping like a
fish.

"It wasn't him next to..." the boy flailed for words, "next to it."

"Who was it?"

"Some guy named Jonas Kirby."

That was very bad. On a grand scale of bad things, it was the model that all bad things aspired to.
"Thank you for telling me Mr. Malfoy, I shall take this to the Headmaster." So much for solitude.

He looked grateful. "Thank you, sir."

They began to separate. "Mr. Malfoy," he called, "in any event, you saved my life and I'm sure it
was no easy task. Thank you."

"I've heard stories of him, my father... when he was here. That's who my father was. Not
whoever I killed today."

He nodded. Now that was someone with perspective. Still, he made a mental note to keep and eye
on Draco.

He continued to the Headmaster's office with steely determination only to be deterred by one,
very angry, practically snarling, Sirius Black. As if his day hadn't been bad enough already.

"Snape!" Came the low growl.

He had a feeling he knew what this conversation was going to be about. "Black."

"I don't trust you."

Oh. What a shock. "And I think you're a mongrel. Can I go now?"

Black leaned closer. "I don't know what you did to him, but that boy who yelled at me today was
not my godson."

He blinked. "If you truly think that, then you don't know him at all."

Eyes narrowed. "And I suppose you do?"

The word ‘biblically' sprang to his mind. "I've spent seven y att attempting to teach him and
nearly a week in his constant presence. I'd have to be the most unobservant idiot not to glean
something from that time."

Black crossed his arms. A look of dark humor spread across his face. "Oh this should be good.
Tell me Snape, tell me about my godson."

He's a hellion of a kisser. "I don't have time for this game, Black."

Teeth were bared."You'll make time."

Controlling, egocentric git. "No. I don't think I will." A strong hand wrapped around his arm and
stilled any forward movement.

"Tell. Me."

"Fine." Stupid, annoying, little dog. "For one thing, the insolent child likes to speak his mind."

"He's not insolent!"

That comment had been the very definition of knee-jerk. "Not by your defini, no, no. Though I
hardly think you've spent enough time with him to make that sort of qualifying statement."

With clenched teeth, Black continued. "Just go on."

Point.

He rolled his eyes. "He has an annoying tendency to ask intrusive questions that are really none of
his business." He also likes to stick his tongue down other people's throats without asking first. If
that didn't qualify as intrusive, he didn't know what would. "He's right handed, but likes to stir a
potion and steer his broom with his left." His legs were so strong he could probably crush his rib
cage. "He likes chicken sandwiches but absolutely loves roast beef."The way he arches his back
was obscene. "And he is not, by any stretch of the definition, a morning person. Are we done?"
Please let them be done.

"How do you know he's not a morning person?"

What made him latch onto that? "If you really need me to explain it to you, you're more ignorant
that I thought."

Blacks nostrils flared. "I still don't trust you."

"You sound like a broken record. Are we done?"

"No." Of course not. "I want you to stop influencing him."

"Black. Nobody ‘influences' that boy, if they tried, they'd be run over by several irate faculty
members and quite a number of angry students, not to mention, Mr. Potter himself." Black looked
sufficiently boggled again. Now if he could just get past him. "Now, I was on my way to the
headmaster's office when you so politely interrupted me. If you will remove your hand, I shall
continue."

The hand tightened. "If he comes out of this hurt-"

"Yes, yes. You'll string me up by my fingernails. Now. Let. Go."

The hand released itself. He shoved passed Black and didn't look back.
_________

His rooms. Finally. Peace and quiet.

He took a quick moment to locate Potter in the Gryffindor common room before grabbing a
bottle of brandy and the small jade statue that resided on his shelf.

He poured himself a glass and studied the figurine he held in his hands. It was of a boy. Not more
that 15 or 16. Smiling. He lightly traced the hair. He missed that boy. Before Imperius. Before
sick and twisted mind games. Before the boy-had-lived. Lucius Malfoy had been his friend.

His best friend. Confident. Lover.

They hadn't been in love.

But they'd loved each other, as much as they could.

He hadn't had anyone like that since.

When had he emptied the glass? He himself poured more of the amber liquid.

There had been no defining moment when his best friend had finally slipped away. Just one minute
there and another... not.

He absently stroked the statue.

He was getting maudlin. Damn alcohol.

Oh look. His glass was empty again. Must remedy that.

A small squeak signaled the opening of his doors. He lazily looked up to see Harry standing there
looking unsure.

"Why are you here?" No slurring. Not that far gone yet, apparently.

Harry threw him a confused look. "You can't feel it?"

He could. Feel it, that is. Like a million little bugs crawling under his skin. Working their way
deeper. "What time is it?" How long had he been sitting there getting drunk?

Harry shrugged. "After dinner."

That long? The boy looked tired and his limbs felt to heavy to move. He put the glass on the table
next to him and motioned for the boy to join him on the couch. They arranged themselves into a
comfortable position.

They shared an almost companionable silence until Harry asked, "What's with the statue?"

Indeed. What was with the statue? "It is a remnant of a forgotten life." Waxing philosophical
now. Another side affect of the brandy, no doubt.

An amused, "You're drunk." came forth.

"Not quite. But close."

Curious eyes looked up at him. "Why?"

He sighed. "This week has been one interminable, trying moment after another. The fact that I
haven't been drunk before now says something about my character."

Harry pondered that for a moment, then said, "I had an interesting conservation with Hermione.
Considering all things. I think now would be the best time to tell you about it."

Oh, that sounded foreboding. "Hold on." He refilled his glass. "Go on."

"Well," he began, "she said a lot of things. I'm not really going to repeat a most of it on the off
chance that you're not going to remember this in the morning."

Smart. "Well. Go on."

Harry took a deep breath. "Basically. We had to want it to happen."

He snorted and rolled his eyes. It figured.

"You're not mad?" Harry sounded surprised.

"Oh, there's anger. Its just drowning in the liquor." He'd get angry tomorrow. Scream and yell
and probably have an aneurism. Anything was better than admitting the boy might be right. He
snorted again at his own thoughts.

"Ah. Have anything else to say?"

He turned an unsteady head to the boy. "I'm drunk, not stupid enough to open my mouth at this
level of intoxication." He settled a hand in Harry's hairs and gently stroked himself to sleep.

Part 25

He awoke to small sparks of pleasure rolling through his body. He stretched and settled down
getting more comfortable.

It felt nice. Almost good enough to make him forget his blinding headache.

Headache? Oh. Right. He'd drunk himself into a stupor.

Maybe he should get something for the hangover. But he was comfortable where he was. He
sighed. The pleasure spiked. Oh, where was that coming from?

His breathing was becoming erratic.

Oh, that felt good.

Cracked open an eye.

And found a completely asleep and utterly relaxed Harry Potter. Harry's lips were lax and open.
Hair was strewn in every direction. His arm, which looked like the had once been haphazardly
thrown around him but had now slid down and was cradled in his lap.

Oh, his lap.

With every breath each of them took, that hand brushed passed him.

An electric shock went through him. Oh. It was getting better with each pass.

He needed to move. Stand up. Which was a problem because his legs had become a jelly-like
substance. Plus the need to breath was becoming a necessity.

"Relax." Came a hushed voice from below.

God, he was awake.

"I'll relax when you move." His voice held a slight tremor.

He felt Harry smile against his chest. "Ok."

The touch became firmer and much more deliberate.

He gasped and shut his eyes tightly. Because looking was just too much. "Stop." The tremor was
getting worse.

"Hermione told me something. She said she was surprised we'd held out as long as we had.
Honestly, so was I."

No thanks to him.

Harry shifted a bit and pressed himself more firmly against his side, keeping up the maddening
touching. "She doesn't think we're going to be able to hold off forever." He swung a leg over his
lap and straddled his thigh.

Slowly, Harry's left hand, palm flat and fingers spread, traced its way upward. He was wearing
only his shirt and the heat that seared through it almost wrought another gasp from him. And the
other hand...

Oh god... the other hand.

"We," he started, it came out a trembling rasp, "we really shouldn't be doing this. Harry... this is...
there are so many things wrong with this."

The hand had reached his neck and tangled with his hair. Harry leaned in, a hot hardness made
itself known on his thigh, and whispered, "Can you stop? Because I'm not sure if I can."

Stop? He could do little more than sit there and do nothing. He was afraid that if he moved it
would be to wrap his arms around Harry and pull him in for a brutal kiss.

Nimble fingers began to undo the buttons at his color. "In order for the spell to work. We had to
want something from each other." The voice was again whispering in his ear. "If I wanted to, I
think I could walk away."

With a monumental effort he grabbed the hand that was unbuttoning his shirt and stopped it.
"Then please, do so."

"But I don't want to." Harry leaned in and gently nibbled just below his ear.

He gasped again and his hips involuntarily thrust forward into that maddening hand.

Harry worked his hand loose and resumed his task with the buttons. "I know what I want," lick
"and I know what I'm doing." bite "I'm fully capable of saying the word no." suckle.

‘All I ask is that you always remember the meaning of the word, no.' Albus' voice echoed in his
head.

A thought suddenly whipped through his head. "How... ah oh... how did Hermione," gasp "...
figure this out..." It was getting harder and harder to think.

Harry continued to nuzzle the side of his neck as he answered, "Headmaster gave her a book." A
quick nibble. "Said there were things he didneedneed to know."

"That manip- ah..."panting "manipulative bastard." His shirt was completely open.

Harry began trailing wet, sucking kisses down his chest.

Just because Albus, in his own roundabout way had given tacit permission did not mean he was
going to give up any moral values he had, just because it was easier. "What... ah... what makes
you think I ah... want to do this?"

The hands and mouth stopped. He was that close to thrusting his hips to regain the friction.

Serious green eyes looked at him. "You're right. Do you want this?"

Damn him! He hadn't actually expected the little brat to actually ask. He opened his mouth to say
the words, to send him away.

No sound would come out of his mouth.

Harry waited for a few moments then said, "It feels like the decision's been taken out of our
hands and I don't like it. But maybe... Hermione made an interesting point."

Catching his breath. "Do feel free to enlighten me."

The eyes shifted away. "The spell that was used, in the second part, was an older form of the one
I used in the first. The only way this particular spell would have worked was if we wanted it."
They looked back up, meeting his lidded gaze, "We had to want something from each other."

The look made his breath catch. "And what makes you think this was it?" Talk him down, change
the subject.

Ignore that hand that hadn't moved.

"She didn't say it. But she didn't have to. The nature of the spell itself. It wouldn't have worked
for just any old want." Harry briefly stroked him.

Shudder.

"And the spell," his voice was low and rasping, "what would it want?"

"I don't know specifically, but I do know it was as binding as marriage."

Marriage.

There was a hell of a lot of intent behind that.

Very specific intent.

Shit.

Green eyes implored him. "I'll walk away if you want." Shoulders slumped and he started to slide
off his lap. "I'll go back to my common room." Harry stood up shakily and took a moment to
compose himself. Then he turned and started to walk out.

Oh god how he ached.

"Harry." He called. His voice just barely above a rough whisper.

He stopped. Feet from the door.

He could see the tension in Harry's shoulders.

"This isn't just about sex. For that spell to have worked. It couldn't have been just about sex."

Harry nodded.

"I need to be sure you know what you're saying yes to."

Harry slowly turned to face him. "There are a lot of things she told me, that made my head spin.
The only thing that made it stop was being here, with you."

"You really know how to lay out the drek, don't you?"

Harry began to stalk back to him. "One of us has to." He was once again insinuated in his lap,
hands poised and ready to resume.

He couldn't be the one to give in. "Say yes." Please don't. "Tell me this is what you want." Walk
away. Don't leave.

"This," stroke "is," stroke "what," stroke "I," stroke "want."

His hips jerked with each pass.

Harry leaned in, lips grazing his, "Yes."

That was it. He brought his arms up and around that warm, tempting body and crushed it to him.
Their lips connected in a quick, sharp movement.

Oh they were better than he remembered. Soft, malleable wetnessetedeted him, enticed him.

They broke apart panting. Harry resumed his wet trail down his chest. He caught a nipple between
his teeth.

Oh god. Sparks were shooting everywhere. So good. Gasp. So good.

Surprisingly nimble fingers found the fastenings on his trousers and opened them with alarming
dexterity.

Warm, strong fingers wrapped around him and started to move.

Amazing. Oh sogood. Oh yes.

He pulled Harry in for another dizzying kiss.

He stretched out shaking fingers, looking for similar clasps on Harry's pants. Once past those, he
reached in and encountered hot, firm flesh. Harry's gasp made him shiver.

Pulling Harry close once again, he shifted his hand to encompass both of them. He buried his face
in the hollow of Harry's neck and began to move.

Gasp. Shudder.

Ohgod.oh ooh oh.

So good.

Harry was sucking on his neck.

Oh. Oh god. Don't stop. Can't stop.

Harry was making small huffing sound.

Yes. That's it. Closer.

He shifted his head just enough to capture those amazing lips.

More. Need more.

His hand began to move faster.

Oh that's it.

Hips began to thrust. More friction.

Oh, keep going. Yes. Yesyes.

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.

Harry bit down on his neck.

Yes. Oh yes. Yesyesyeysyesyesyes!

Stroke. Once more.

A frisson of power started at the base of his spine and sparked outwards. Every nerve tingled.

And he knew. He knew Harry was on the same edge that he was.

He knew what it would take.

Sucking on a patch of skin right under Harry's ear, he gave two more firm strokes and-

Pleasure exploded over them, in wonderful euphoric waves.

He kept his hand moving until there was nothing left in either of them.

Harry was lying, limp on top of him. Slowly catching his breath.

He mumbled the beloved cleaning spell and gently coaxed Harry to stand.

Silently he led them into his bedroom.

Once they were laying down, Harry murmured, "See, feel better already."

"Go to sleep." He did feel better. Marginally.