The Death of a Soul

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Chapter Nine

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Albus Dumbledore averted his eyes from the guests sitting before him to look at two men that were still facing each other. He gave both of them a nod, indicating it was time to turn sideways so the majority of the Wizarding World in attendance could stare at the newly married couple. Harry flinched inwardly when he thought of that word. Well, actually those two words. Married. Couple. He really didn’t want to be there just then. Of course, he really should be used to all this. Gawked at, talked about, and gossiped about. But the worst: being praised and congratulated for something he had no control over.

“I really think that was uncalled for,” Snape - he’ll always be Snape to Harry - said through the side of his mouth, referring to Harry’s vows.

Well,” Harry began, not caring that his voice matched his disgusted expression. “Perhaps in the future, you should tell me exactly what I can and can’t say.”

Harry could almost make out a frustrated sigh coming out of his new spouse.

“The last thing I would ever do is tell my husband what to do or what to say,” he said calmly.

Harry couldn’t resist turning his face to glare at his husband. “Why not,” Harry hissed. “You’ve told me what do to up till now!”

Glancing sideways, Severus said, “That is irrelevant now because we are married, changing everything in our relationship.”

Ignoring that last word, “Rubbish,” the young wizard spat through his teeth. “Nothing will change,” Harry mocked out loud.

This time Harry did hear him sigh. “Could we please talk about this later?”

The Gryffindor clenched his jaw. “An order? So soon?”

Thankfully for Severus, the conversation ended then, because all the guest were standing as their chairs morphed into a more comfortable one and the room enlarged to accommodate the decorated wedding tables. Albus spread his arms out from his sides and they began to file into queues to get their chance to offer their congratulations to the two grooms. Harry groaned.

“I’m asking you nicely if you could at least be respectable,” Snape said in a low, quiet voice.

“Fine,” Harry ground out.

One by one, the delighted guests stopped in front of each of them, wishing them the very best. None of them seemed concerned with Harry’s emotionless face. They just merely shook his hand and some even had the audacity to try and get a response out of him. But being already furious and a true stubborn Gryffindor at heart, Harry just stared at them, barely acknowledging them or their words. A few even tried to hug him, so he stood fast and allowed himself to be hugged but didn’t return the gesture. It wasn’t until his fellow classmates appeared that Harry actually made eye contact. He still didn’t say anything but rather nodded indifferently to their greetings.

Harry for the most part, ignored the monotone voice next to him until he heard a familiar name.

“Thank you, Miss Granger. I’m sure Harry will appreciate that.”

Immediately, Harry’s defenses went up. He tightly gripped the hand that was in his, and only noticed that he was causing pain to the owner when Dean Thomas attempted to jerk his hand away. Harry mumbled his apology and the dark-haired boy made a fast retreat.

Hermione Granger carefully stepped in front of Harry like he was an angry father. She was wringing her hands together nervously and focusing on the ground below. Not lifting her head, she raised her brown eyes slowly. It was obvious that she hadn’t slept well last night – if she had slept at all, that is.

“Hello, Harry,” she whispered, but she knew he wouldn’t respond. She looked down again and a couple of tears rolled down her cheeks. Hermione chewed the corner of her lower lip for a moment then quietly sobbed, “I really did try, Harry. I just… I couldn’t...”

Hermione’s hand flew up to cover her mouth and then she quickly ran away. For the first time that day, Harry actually felt another emotion besides anger. Regret. He watched her as she disappeared into the crowd and then looked away from everyone. But the feeling that someone was glaring at the back of his head caused him to spin back around. He gave Snape a look that said, “What?” Severus turned his attention to the redhead that was in front of him.

“Thank you, Mr Weasley,” the older wizard replied, shaking his hand.

Harry saw Ron nod at Snape, but his blue eyes were locked on Harry’s. As careful as Hermione was, Ron stood in front of Harry, but he wasn’t looking down, nor was he upset. Instead, Harry’s best friend held his chin high and Harry took that as if he was going to get a good tongue-lashing. But he was wrong.

“Harry,” Ron acknowledged. “I’m sorry.” Harry furrowed his brows. “I should have been there for you and I wasn’t,” he said simply.

If it hadn’t been for the emotional outburst from Hermione, Harry might not have been willing to at least listen to Ron’s confession. One thing he knew for sure; Harry could tell this caught Snape's attention - as could Ron. Harry nodded to him to continue, keeping a watchful and curious eye on his ‘spouse’.

“We should’ve told you… I should’ve told you,” Ron corrected himself, then continued, “what we were doing.” Suddenly, Ron looked away and sighed. “We couldn’t find anything.” He snapped his head back at Harry. “And in the end, we just didn’t want to lose you,” he emphasised, ignoring the small sneer from the Potions master. “But we tried.” He leaned in close to Harry and whispered, “We’re still trying.”

Ron gave a Harry a quick wink and then sighed in relief, making it clear that he was glad he’d finally told his friend. Harry’s expression softened and before he could say anything, Ron gave Harry a half-smile and Severus a half-smirk. He turned away from the two of them, walking a little taller than he had before.

Severus cleared his throat. “You have loyal friends, Harry.”

Harry sensed a slight irritating tone in his voice and Harry smiled. “So it seems.”

Harry survived the rest of afternoon of handshakes and well-wishers by berating himself inwardly for ever doubting his friends. He knew he could never erase that image of the lost and defeated face of Hermione Granger from his mind.

A snobbish drawl interrupted his thoughts.

“Congratulations, Potter,” said Draco Malfoy.

Out of everyone Harry knew - including Voldemort - only Malfoy could inflame so much hatred within himself.

“As I understand it,” Malfoy began again. “In some countries it’s customary to kiss the bride,” he smirked.

Before Harry could process the meaning of his words, the blond tilted his head and pulled the Gryffindor in for a rough kiss. The force of it caused both boys to open their mouths, but no tongues were exchanged. Just as fast as Malfoy grabbed him, he was quicker to stop and he pushed Harry away. Harry stared in shock at the young Slytherin, unable to respond. Malfoy on the other hand, smirked again then ran his tongue over his lower lip as if he were tasting the remains of their kiss. The blond glanced at Harry’s new spouse and curled his mouth. It almost appeared if he was silently saying, “I kissed him first.” The older wizard narrowed his eyes and sneered at his arrogant student.

“Professor,” said Malfoy with a satisfied voice.

Still frozen in time, Harry watched his rival walk away.

“That was definitely uncalled for,” Severus scowled.

His husband grinned.

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Soon Harry and Snape were sitting at the end of the Great Hall facing the filled room. Because of Harry’s friend’s dedication to help him against Snape, and even Draco Malfoy’s behaviour, his anger returned twice as strong towards his new husband and the inconsiderate crowd of witches and wizards. On the table in front of him, sat a large display of food and what looked to be wine. A tall glass of it was next to his plate. Everyone suddenly turned to face Albus Dumbledore who was standing with a similar glass in his upraised hand.

‘Oh Merlin,’ Harry thought. ‘A toast.’

Everyone mimicked Dumbledore and turned their focus to the newly wedded couple. Harry didn’t move.

“It’s time for the traditional toast, Harry,” Severus softly informed him.

The young wizard still didn’t move.

“Harry,” he urged quietly.

“I don’t drink,” Harry spat out the side of his mouth.

“It will help you to relax,” Snape explained to him.

“I don’t need relaxing,” said Harry bitterly.

Severus sighed. “The day will soon be over.” Harry cringed at the image of the wedding night. “Can we please get through this as smoothly as possible?”

Harry gritted his teeth together and lifted the glass so fast that wine spilled over the top. Immediately, the guests looked back at the eldest wizard.

“To Harry and Severus Potter,” he started. The young wizard’s body trembled in rage, hearing that name next to his. “The newest and most powerful couple.”

Harry gripped the glass tightly and waited till the “Hears, hears” subside and then slammed his flûte back down while everyone took a large gulp of the liquor. The stem shattered but no one seemed to notice save Severus. He knew he was watching him again but he ignored him and focused his eyes on the distant wall. Harry heard a quiet voice next to him, but his ears and his eyes was somewhere else.

“Harry,” his spouse repeated.

“What?” he hissed, his head snapping around.

“They’re waiting for us,” Snape said softly.

Harry gazed at the crowd seated and sure enough, all the curious eyes were watching the two of them.

“For what?” the Gryffindor asked in annoyance.

“To begin the dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said flatly.

“I’m sure you’re not, but they are.”

“Let them starve,” Harry sneered.

“Harry…” The young groom narrowed his eyes at him. “It’s tradition that…”

“Fine!”

Harry took a large portion off his plate and stuffed it in his mouth. Immediately, everyone started eating and began talking amongst themselves, filling the room with happy chatter. Harry picked up his newly replaced wine glass and spit out the half-chewed food.

“I was told that this was your favourite dish,” Severus whispered.

“Well, they were wrong, weren’t they?”

“Perhaps you’d like something else?” Snape offered and Dobby appeared, ready to get Harry anything.

“Stop it, all right?” he said coldly.

The Potions master raised a curious eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Harry looked at him blankly. “Stop trying to be nice to me. It doesn’t suit you,” said Harry irritably.

Severus clenched his teeth.

“That’s more like it … Snape.”

The older wizard took a deep and jagged breath of air.


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With the meal finally over with, everyone looked towards the two men.

“What now?” Harry groaned.

Severus stood and held out his hand. “Time for the traditional newlywed dance,” he said, barely moving his lips.

“What?” Harry cried.

“Would you please attempt a little restraint?” he growled.

“I’m not dancing with you, you bastard.”

Severus’s hand started to shake. “Potter,” he warned.

Harry smirked. “Glad to see you’ve returned to normal.” He paused. “Professor.”

Snape glared at him, then closed his eyes briefly. When he re-opened his eyes, his features surprisingly softened.

“Please will you accompany me in a dance?”

Harry wondered how many times he could tell him to fuck off.

“Please,” he repeated impatiently.

“This had better be the only time I do this,” said Harry, his face flushing with embarrassment.

“Believe me, I’m not looking forward to this any more than you are.”

“Well, then,” Harry smirked. “Shall we?”

The Gryffindor snatched his hand, squeezing it tightly. Severus frowned at him whilst he assisted in helping his groom to stand. Harry resisted pulling away, instead allowing this man to escort him to the cleared dance floor.

“If you so much as touch me…” Harry said in a firm voice.

It was Severus’s turn to smirk. They began to move around the floor and a soft round of clapping followed. Soon the dance floor was filled with other couples, glancing every now and then at Mr and Mr Potter. The two wizards gripped their hands tighter, both annoyed at the constant staring.

“Why are we wearing a fucking dress?” Harry finally asked.

“Would you please lower your voice?” whispered Snape.

“Why are we wearing a fucking dress?” the young wizard repeated in a deeper voice.

Onyx eyes darkened. “They are not dresses, boy. They are traditional wedding gowns,” he hissed.

Harry snorted. “Look like dresses to me.”

The slow music stopped and Harry instantly pulled away. The other wizards and witches parted on the dance floor, making a clear path back to the front of the hall. Severus gestured with his hand for Harry to go first. He cast Snape a cold glare and stalked ahead. When both of them reached the dais, they turned around, facing the guests once again.

“Opening the gifts,” the older wizard answered Harry’s unasked question.

“Would it kill you to inform me of what’s to be expected? Or do you enjoy keeping me in the dark about everything?” Harry retorted.

“My apologises,” replied Severus indifferently.

Again Harry glared at him. “So much for the pleasantries.”


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One by one, each gift was opened, both men taking turns. There was an assortment of different items ranging from phials to subscriptions to “Quidditch Monthly”. Only a few presents remained and Harry was handed a long, thin rectangular box.

“This one’s for you, Harry,” Severus whispered, handing it to him.

Harry stared at the gift then searched the crowd for his one time mentor. The young wizard’s hands balled up into fists.

“Harry?”

But the boy didn’t remove his slitted eyes from Dumbledore.

“Harry,” Snape repeated unwaveringly.

Suddenly, the furious Gryffindor grabbed the box and tossed it over to the pile of opened gifts. Severus Accio’d the box back and held it out to Harry again.

“It is forbidden not to open a gift,” his groom warned him dangerously.

Harry turned and glared at him and then snatched it out of his hand. He quickly unwrapped it and removed the lid. He already knew what it was. His wand. His restored wand. The wand that couldn’t be destroyed. His eyes burned a hole into it and attempted to throw it back onto the table. But the box wouldn’t leave his hand.

“It must be regenerated,” Severus explained.

Harry’s hands began to shake. “I can't do it,” he whispered.

His husband sighed in hearing Harry finally sounding like his old self.

“Harry, you can't resist it. It has to be united with its owner,” said Severus softly.

A single tear fell down his face as he slowly shook his head. “I can't.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. As if Harry was struck with an Imperius Curse, he touched the wand and curled his fingers around it. A red and gold coloured light enveloped the Great Hall and everyone gasped in astonishment. When the light subsided, Harry was on his knees, crying. Severus knelt down and gingerly touched his shoulder.

“Shh. It’s all right, Harry.”

The young wizard jumped to his feet, wand at the ready and aimed at Snape's heart. The guests gasped. Severus stood tall with his head held high.

“You cannot kill me, Harry,” he said flatly. “You are unable to.”

Harry’s body began shaking and it wasn’t from anger. The wand was fighting Harry, but he wouldn’t give in.

“Harry, stop it,” Severus said calmly. “You’re only going to make yourself sick.”

The young wizard’s chest tightened and his ribs began to hurt. As hard as he tried, Harry couldn’t keep his arm up any longer. He collapsed to the ground and fainted.


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“Harry. Harry?” a quiet voice whispered.

The young Gryffindor fluttered his eyes open and blinked several times before focusing in on Severus Potter.

“I hate you.”

Severus nodded. “I know,” he breathed, relieved that his husband was all right.

“Can you stand?” he said, gingerly taking his arm to help him up.

“Let go of me,” Harry croaked, but he didn’t have the strength to pull away.

Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Unconsciously, he leaned into Severus.

“Come on,” the older man softly urged.

Harry was led over to the nearby urinal. He now realised that he was in the men’s lavatory. Snape stood behind him and reached in front of Harry’s gown. The young wizard was now fully awake.

“Don’t touch me!” he screamed, pulling away.

“You need to go to the bathroom. And so do I,” he pointed out.

“I can do it myself!”

Severus sighed. “No you can't, Harry. And neither can I.”

“What? Of course I can,” his voice rising higher.

“The gown will only open by the spouse’s hand.”

Harry frantically yanked at the three clasps that held the front of it closed. They wouldn’t budge. He glared at Severus and ran the short distance, intending to knock him down. In a bat of an eye, Harry found himself at Snape's feet.

Severus shook his head benevolently. “You can't hurt me, Harry. Just like I can't hurt you.”

Harry curled into a ball. “I hate you.”

“You’ve already said that. Now, can we attend to our business?” asked Severus, slightly annoyed.

His young groom shook his head.

“The longer we hold off, the more damage we will do to ourselves.”

“Is that a traditional custom?” Harry sneered, looking up.

“No, it's common knowledge. Now come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Harry closed his eyes and once again he was lifted to his feet and led in front of the urinal. His body started to shake and his breathing accelerated.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Severus’s arms encircled Harry and carefully unlatched the lowest buckle.

“No,” his young husband whimpered.

Harry felt his gown part and cold hands touched his genitals. He turned his head away and continued to tremble.

“Please. Please stop.”

“Shh. It’ll be over soon,” Severus whispered.

Harry’s hands gripped Snape’s arms and tried to move them, still unable to open his eyes or turn his head to watch. His limp cock was raised and his foreskin was pulled back. Harry’s knees started to give out.

“S-stop,” he begged.

“Come on, Harry. You’re only hurting yourself.”

“I c-can't,” whispered Harry.

“Yes, you can.”

He pushed at Severus’s arms again.

“Stop fighting it.”

Tears began to roll down his cheeks. Harry shuddered and his bladder began to cramp. More tears fell and he could feel himself losing control of his bodily functions. Finally, urine began to flow slowly until a steady stream was felt. Harry’s breath caught in his throat.

“Shh. That’s it. Just relax.”

Harry couldn’t stop shaking. Severus hugged him tighter. Finally, after minutes of anguish, the last few drops left his body and his gown was quickly closed. Harry covered his eyes in embarrassment and slid down Snape's legs.

“Oh God. Oh God.”

It was the most humiliating experience Harry had ever known. But the worst was yet to come. It was Severus’s turn.


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