Fic: How Harry Potter Challenged Destiny

[alisanne]

Another OLD repost. Keep on moving... :)

Title: How Harry Potter Challenged Destiny
Author: alisanne
Rating: R
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Word count: ~18,500
Beta readers: Sevfan, The Firedancer, VL redreign, and Jynx709. Thank you all!
Archive: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest (I forget which year).
Warnings: Chan (Harry is 14), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, threesome implied.
Challenge: What if...?
Summary: What if Harry’s fourth year at Hogwarts had been different?



~

How Harry Potter Challenged Destiny.

~

Everyone watched, breathless, as Headmaster Dumbledore plucked the parchment out of the air and, unrolling it, read the name on it.

“Harry Potter!” he roared, and Harry’s head snapped up, disbelieving.

Loud murmuring began from behind him, and as Dumbledore called his name again, and he walked forward, the hostility in the room was palpable. How had this happened? How had his name ended up in the Goblet of Fire, and how could he get out of this mess...

Harry moaned, whimpering and twisting in his bed.

The images of hostile faces faded, and he relaxed again, his breathing settling once more into the regular cadence of deep sleep.

He was stumbling on the ground, twisting to avoid stones and rocks that littered the place, but somehow he knew where they all were. The house he approached had lights, and that wasn’t proper, it should be empty.

He went up the stairs and towards the voices at the end of a long hallway. A tall-backed chair sat there, and someone whose face was concealed knelt in front of it.

“... thisss plan ssshall work?” a sibilant voice asked. For some reason, that voice gave Harry chills, even in his dreams.

He crept closer, and heard another voice.

“Indeed, Master. It is foolproof. No one will know that I’m not...”

Harry looked down, only to see a huge snake slithering over his feet on its way into the room. The door was pushed open wider as the snake slid inside, crawling over to the chair where it tasted the air with its forked tongue.

“Ahhh. Nagini tellsss me we have a visssitor,” the one in the chair said, and Harry stepped back, but it was not soon enough.

A pale hand pointed a wand at him and Harry looked up into dark eyes.

“Let us bid our guest welcome! Avada Kedavra!”

A green light enveloped Harry, who awoke gasping. It took a moment, but once he realized it had only been another dream, he relaxed, stretched and yawned. What a weird dream; nightmare, really. His dreams had been getting odder and odder lately.

He turned over and punched his pillow, He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but any moment now he was bound to hear...

“Oi, Harry!”

Harry groaned. Ron was like a bloody alarm clock, for Merlin’s sake!

“Harryyyyy!”

“Yes? What?”

“We’re going to miss him,” Ron whinged.

“Maybe you should go without me...” Harry began, but Ron was having none of it.

“And have him think I’m some sort of crazed weirdo stalker? No way. You’ve got to come with me. If it’s the two of us, it doesn’t look so bad.”

Harry yawned so widely that he cracked his jawbone. “Oh, all right. Give me a minute, then,” he muttered, trying to disentangle himself from his sheets.

“We don’t have that much time,” Ron insisted. “Here, just put this on and let’s go.”

A hand reached through his curtain and Harry was suddenly being smothered by a T-shirt.

He shrugged out his pajamas, and pulled on the shirt, grimacing for a moment when he thought of what his hair must look like, then he climbed out of bed. He pulled on some jeans that were lying on the floor, and they were off, Harry still rubbing sleep out of bleary eyes.

They ran down the stairs, being careful to avoid the moving ones, making it outside just in time to settle on a stone wall and look as if they had been there for some time.

Harry sighed. Here it came, the time of the day that Ron lived for. It had been like this for three weeks, and Harry was quite tired of it.

Viktor Krum, resplendent in his jogging suit and surrounded by giggling girls, ran by, looking sweaty and muscular.

He glanced at them, smiling vaguely in Ron’s direction before moving past.

Ron slapped Harry’s arm excitedly. “He looked at me! Did you see?”

Harry groaned and rubbed his now sore arm. “Yeah, I saw. Can I go back to bed now? It’s barely daylight.”

Ron was still staring after Viktor, a fatuous grin on his face. “Yeah, sure,” he said distantly.

Harry shook his head and slid down off the wall. This had been a daily occurrence since Krum had arrived at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. It had been bad enough at the Quidditch World Cup, but now that Krum was actually within Ron’s reach... Harry sighed.

He started for the Gryffindor tower, and his bed, when something made him look out towards the lake.

There, at the water’s edge, was a figure. Harry squinted. Could it be...? Yes, it was Snape, but it was Snape as Harry’d never seen him before. He was not swathed from head to toe in dark robes, but instead, he was wearing a sleek swimming costume. It was rather old-fashioned, but Harry couldn’t laugh. Not with the way the thing hugged Snape’s every muscle.

He’s... fit, Harry thought dazedly, watching the man stretch.

And then, in a move so smooth it made Harry gasp, Snape dived into the lake, surfacing a few metres out.

Harry forgot all about going back to bed, he just stood there and gaped as Snape cut through the water like an otter, sleek and wet. Harry couldn’t believe it. When had Snape learned to swim like that? Like he’d been born in the water?

Harry stepped closer, trying to follow the now distant figure with his eyes.

“Hey, I thought you were going back to bed,” Ron called out from behind him.

Harry jumped, looking about, shocked to see how now much later it was than he thought. He glanced back towards the lake, but Snape was now too far out to be seen clearly.

He nodded. “I was just on my way in,” he said, turning his back on the lake to walk towards the castle. It had to have been some aberration of the light that’d made Snape look that good...

As they walked inside, they passed Cedric Diggory on his way out, surrounded by a gaggle of girls. Harry shook his head. Being a Triwizard champion was certainly a sure way to popularity. It still wasn’t something Harry thought he would ever be interested in, his odd dream notwithstanding.

“Do you sometimes wish we could have had a shot at going for the Triwizard?” Ron asked on the way up to their room.

Harry shook his head. “Are you insane?” he said. “It’s been great having the attention focused away from me for a change.”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I wonder, though...”

“What?” Harry asked as they walked into their room.

“You remember that extra piece of parchment that came out of the Goblet when the champions were announced?”

Harry nodded.

“Well, what if it’d had your name on it? What would you have done then?”

Harry shrugged. “We’ll never know,” he said. “It wouldn’t have had my name, because my name wasn’t placed in there, remember? It is funny how it was burned to a crisp before Dumbledore could see it, though.”

Ron nodded. “Weird, that. Still, as Dumbledore said, if the Goblet had meant for there to be another champion chosen, it would have produced the name again.”

Harry laughed as he gathered his stuff to go for his morning shower.

“I bet it was because the twins kept trying to get their names in there,” he said. “No wonder the poor Goblet malfunctioned. We’re lucky it didn’t explode.”

Ron grinned. “Yeah, probably.” He rummaged through his trunk for a moment, flushing, and Harry knew it was coming at any moment...

“So, d’you think Vik... erm, Krum noticed me today?”

Harry sighed. When would Ron realize that he was in the throes of a rather major crush?

“I imagine he’s gotten used to seeing us in that spot,” he said carefully. “We’ve been there every day, after all.”

Ron’s shoulders slumped a bit. Harry sighed.

“Maybe if you did something else he might notice you...”

“Like what?” Ron asked eagerly, hitting his head with a loud thump as he pulled it out of his trunk too quickly.

“You okay?” Harry asked.

Ron nodded, rubbing his head ruefully. “Yeah, m’fine,” he muttered. “But back to the other. What can I do to get Krum to notice me?”

Harry shrugged, starting out for the bathroom. “Maybe if you started running in the mornings,” he suggested.

“Both of us, you mean?” Ron asked, jogging to keep up.

“No, I think just you, so maybe you and he could talk,” Harry said, suppressing a shudder at the thought of getting up even earlier in the cold Scottish morning to jog.

Ron pursed his lips thoughtfully, and Harry took the opportunity to strip and step into the blissfully hot water, relaxing under the pounding of the shower.

After a minute, he soaped up and, deciding Ron was still thinking about his suggestion in the next stall, Harry began his morning wank.

He touched himself firmly, soaping up thoroughly, before fondling his bits in the way he liked.

He closed his eyes and leaning up against the tile wall, tried to pull up one of his favorite wank images.

Oliver Wood, straddling his broom, tossing a teasing look behind him as he urged Harry to follow him...

Harry moaned and his hand sped up. Oliver flew to the ground and dismounted, and with a mischievous grin, was pulling Harry into the woods for a quick snog, or maybe more...

“Mmmm,” Harry murmured, widening his stance as his finger played over his perineum, edging towards his hole.

He ran his fingers through soft black hair, moaning as a wicked tongue teased his mouth before sliding in and tasting him. Long, stained fingers, clasped his head, and he was captured, owned by those lips that could be so cruel.

Harry’s eyes flew open. Wait, what? He tried to expunge the saturnine face that danced in his vision, but it was too late. Harry’s balls drew up and he came in hot spurts over the tile wall, the evidence washed away by the hot water.

He slumped against the wall, trying to figure out what had just happened. Had he just came from thinking of...? No. Impossible.

With a final shake of his head, Harry turned off the water, and reached for his towel to dry off. He simply couldn’t have just wanked over the thought of Snape, could he?

It’s just because I spotted him swimming earlier, Harry decided. That must be it. It certainly couldn’t be any other reason.

Ron resumed his Krum-centric conversation as soon as Harry emerged, allowing Harry to forget what he’d been worried about, at least until they got to class.

~

“Headmaster, there is obviously something afoot. A fourth was almost entered in the competition.” Severus was about to go spare. He knew that someone had planned to tamper with the competition, yet Dumbledore insisted that everything was fine, and that the Triwizard champions were quite safe.

“Yes, Severus,” Dumbledore soothed. “I’m well aware of the attempt, yet, as you say, it was not successful. I suspect that the several attempts to meddle with the Goblet might have been a reason for the malfunction.”

“Those Weasleys should be punished,” Severus continued.

Minerva sat up straight. “I certainly agree that they should be punished, if it can be proven that it was their actions that led to the Goblet malfunction. Otherwise...”

“Everyone saw them,” Severus snarled.

“Did you?” she asked.

His compressed lips were answer enough.

“Beware! There shall be destruction,” Sybill intoned from the other side of the table.

Severus shot her a disgusted look. “We need to guard against anyone else trying to interfere with the competition,” he said, ignoring the Seer.

“For Merlin’s sake! Quit your blathering. It would be impossible for anyone to disrupt it now,” Alastor Moody growled. “It’s been three weeks and nothing else has happened. Plus, if there were someone powerful enough to interfere with the magical contract of the Triwizard, he could just take over now and be done.”

“Nothing is impossible, and might I remind you that they said that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named couldn’t do all that he did?”

“That wanker is dead, Snape,” Moody snarled. “Despite that pathetic display at the World Cup. Unless you know something we don’t? Where were you that night, anyway?”

“I don’t have to answer to you,” Severus snarled.

“Not at the moment you don’t, true,” Moody shot back. “But one day that might change...”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Severus murmured. A look from Dumbledore had Severus’ mouth snapping shut, and he sat back, fuming under Moody’s suspicious look.

“In any event, Severus is correct that we should keep our eyes open for interference. Not all who would disrupt this have intentions as benign as the Weasley boys.” Dumbledore gazed at them all over his glasses. “Now, unless there is anything else?”

“Beware when the stars align,” Sybill murmured into the sudden silence.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Hm. Yes, well if that is all, this meeting is adjourned. I trust I shall see you all tomorrow for the first task? It promises to be exciting.”

Severus tuned out his mentor as he watched Moody take another swig of whatever mysterious liquid he habitually quaffed.

Pain Potion, perhaps, or maybe Firewhisky, which might work just as well to dull the senses, Severus decided. Still, Moody was not a wizard to be dismissed, but rather, watched closely.

As he stood to leave, Sybill brushed by him.

“Be alert,” she whispered. “All is not as it seems.”

He rolled his eyes. That was at least a true statement.

~

“Well that was exciting,” Ron said as they all trooped out of the stadium surrounded by chattering students.

“I know!” Harry replied excitedly. “Did you see how Diggory corralled that Horntail?”

“It’s just not right,” Hermione was still muttering, and Harry caught Ron’s eye ruefully. She had been going on about the rights of dragons ever since the challenge had been made public. Harry suspected that the wizarding world was probably going to hear about animal rights soon if she had any say in it. “Those poor mothers, threatening their eggs like that...”

“The poor dragons?” Ron said, disbelief colouring his voice. “Hermione, did you see them? They would have killed us all if they could!”

“Only because we provoked them first,” she insisted.

As his friends argued, Harry glanced back at the stadium, pausing when he saw Snape and Moody standing at the top of the stairs having what looked like an intense discussion. Moody gestured angrily and stormed off, Snape watching him with a stony expression on his face. He saw Harry watching him, and paused momentarily before spinning and walking away.

“... don’t you agree, Harry?”

Harry turned back towards Hermione. “What?”

She sighed. “Honestly, you two! I don’t know why I bother. Neither of you ever listens to me...”

Harry made an attempt to soothe her ruffled feathers. “I was listening, I was just worried about Fleur. She didn’t look too good at the end. I hope she’s all right...”

“Krum did great, though,” Ron said, pride colouring his voice, and Hermione sighed, knowing that there would be no point in her saying anything more, now that Krum was the topic.

“Yes, he did, Ron,” she agreed. “He’s probably the most likely to win, I would say.”

“Are you not rooting for your own Hogwarts competitor?” a new voice asked, and the trio stopped, confronted by an inquisitive looking woman with a Quick-Quotes Quill hovering behind her.

“Rita Skeeter, from the Prophet,” the woman continued, and Harry found himself stepping back. “I’m interviewing students to get their impressions of the first task. So, you favor Krum, I take it, Miss...?”

She peered at Hermione, her sharp nose twitching furiously, as Hermione stammered, “I... erm.. well, he did do very well...”

“Are you a fan, dear?” Skeeter continued, eyes sharpening. “Perhaps you have a sweet little crush on the handsome Seeker?”

She’s not the only one... Harry couldn’t help it, his mind had immediately gone to the thought of Hermione and Ron battling it out for Krum, and he laughed, trying to cover it up with a cough as two pairs of feminine eyes swivelled to look at him.

“Have you something to add, young man?” Skeeter asked, then, pausing, she smiled. “Wait, you’re no ordinary student, are you? That scar... of course! You’re Harry Potter! Well, Mr. Potter, who do you favour in the challenge?”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve no idea,” he said truthfully. “I think all the contestants are amazing, actually.”

“Do you wish you’d had a chance to compete?” Skeeter asked, leaning in close enough that Harry could smell her cloying perfume. He wrinkled his nose.

“No,” he said firmly. “Definitely not.”

“That would have been quite the story,” she murmured. “Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, in a competition with the brightest young wizards of the age for the legendary Triwizard championship...”

“Is there a problem here?” a smooth voice asked, and Skeeter stiffened.

“Why, no!” she exclaimed, turning to face Snape with a bright grin. “I just thought it might be interesting to get the impressions of these students about the competition...”

“Headmaster Dumbledore has made it clear that there are to be no interviews except with the competitors,” Snape said, eyebrow raised.

Skeeter flushed. “Ah, yes. I had forgotten. Forgive me.”

“Indeed,” Snape replied. “Well, just in case you’ve also forgotten the way out, perhaps I can escort you?”

Skeeter scowled, but there was nothing that she could do. She glanced back at Harry, an almost hungry look on her face, before she allowed herself to be led away.

“Did Snape just rescue us?” Harry asked, in disbelief.

Hermione nodded. “Appears so,” she said. “Come on, let’s get back to the dorms. I bet Hufflepuff’s having a party tonight.”

As they walked away, Harry looked behind him just in time to see Snape wave Skeeter towards the exit. He smiled just as Snape turned back to face him, and Snape, seeing it, raised an eyebrow.

Harry flushed but held those obsidian eyes for a long moment before dropping his gaze. When he looked up again, Snape was gone.

~

Trelawney flit by them once more, and Harry leaned over to whisper to Ron.

“Is it me, or does she seem to be... hovering?”

Ron shrugged. “Dunno, mate,” he said, distracted. “Have you finished your star chart?”

Harry sighed. Ron was taking his Divination assignment very seriously, ever since it had occurred to him that he could do Krum’s star chart as his astrology term project. Harry hoped it would only be a matter of time before Ron realized exactly how deep his feelings for the Bulgarian went. In the meantime, however, it was getting old pretty fast. Harry had his own problems, after all.

He was still having nightmares about the Death Eater attack at the Quidditch World Cup, and when he wasn’t, he was having explicit dreams about, of all people, Snape!

Why can’t my life be simple? he thought.

A gasp behind him made him tilt his head up to see Trelawney staring at his chart.

“Oh, how tragic,” she sighed, tearing up.

“Professor?” Harry asked, uncertain, but she continued as if he’d not spoken.

“Poor, poor dear,” she cooed, patting Harry’s head. “If only there were some way to avoid this disaster... I must speak with the Headmaster.” She wandered away still muttering and wringing her hands.

“Oops,” Ron said.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not again,” he muttered.

Ron shrugged. “At least she’s consistent,” he said.

Harry sighed. “Yeah, that’s great,” he said. “She’s consistent in the belief that I’m going to die a horrible death every term.”

“Maybe I should do your star chart so she’ll see that it doesn’t have to be that way,” Ron said.

Harry shook his head. “No, you continue what you’re doing. I’ve never believed her in the past, and I won’t start now.”

Ron shrugged. “Whose chart are you doing, anyway?” he asked.

Harry ducked his head. “I just picked a random date,” he lied.

Ron’s brow furrowed. “Can you do that?” he asked. “How will you know if you’re right about your predictions?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You mean because Divination is such a precise science?” he asked.

Ron snickered. “Good point,” he allowed, turning back to his own work.

Harry bent over his chart once more. He wondered what Ron would say if he knew Harry was doing Snape’s chart, then dismissed that thought. Ron would take him to the infirmary as fast as he could, imagining Harry had been Imperiused, or something. Better that he not know.

They all looked up when Professor Trelawney clapped her hands.

“All right, class! It’s time for more tea. There are ways to combine tea-leaf readings with astrology that we need to discuss.”

They had been drinking a lot of tea in this class lately, Harry noted. It had struck him as odd, but then, that was not the oddest thing about this class.

As she passed it out, Harry took a small cup, but Ron took a large one. “I like the tea she’s been using this term,” he said. “It almost has an almond flavor, or something.”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t care for it, and, when her back was turned, he had been dumping most of it in the plants that she had lining the room.

As they looked at the tea leaves and compared them to their charts, Harry, bored, found his mind wandering yet again to thoughts of Snape. There was just something about the man...

“Oh! Mr. Weasley, how wonderful!”

Trelawney was in raptures over Ron’s leaves, predicting all sorts of wonderful outcomes for him, much to Ron’s embarrassment. Harry hoped she was right for once.

~

“But Professor, Hermione is missing!” Harry didn’t know why his frantic pleas were being met with such unconcern. It was the night before the second task, and Hermione was suddenly nowhere to be found.

“I’m sure everything will be all right, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley.” Professor McGonagall firmly ushered Harry and Ron out of her office. “You worry too much. I imagine Miss Granger is quite safe. She’s a resourceful young lady.”

“But she wouldn’t have just left without telling anyone...” The door shut in Ron’s face mid-sentence.

Harry crossed his arms, a mulish look settling on his face. Ron relaxed, recognizing the look. “We look later?” he mouthed.

Harry nodded shortly. Ron grinned. “Brilliant!”

And so they found themselves out at midnight searching for clues as to Hermione’s whereabouts. Neville remembered seeing her in the library earlier, but that was the last anyone had seen of her, and now, with it being this late, and Hermione being Hermione, they just knew something had happened.

It was cramped beneath the Cloak. Ron had to crouch since Harry wasn’t quite as tall as he was, and as they rounded the corner, they encountered a curious sight. Harry pulled Ron back behind the wall.

Snape and Moody were standing there, furiously arguing, Snape pointing a finger directly in the ex-Auror’s face.

“... and furthermore, supplies have been pilfered from my potions stores. Someone is making Polyjuice. Something suspicious is going on...”

Moody barked a harsh laugh. “Polyjuice? Oh please. It’s probably some student prank, nothing more sinister. You’re almost as paranoid as I am... almost. Unless you’re suggesting that I have anything to do with it.”

Snape sniffed. “You are the one suggesting it,” he said cooly.

“Do I have to remind you, I have no need to sneak around stealing potions supplies, Snape?” Moody hissed. “I am not the one with an unsavory past to hide, after all.”

“You’ve been unsavory enough in your day,” Snape said. “And rest assured that I will find whoever it is who is breaking into my stores. Whoever is stealing from me had better watch themselves.”

“I’m sure if anyone is actually stealing, they will,” Moody said.

“And,” Snape continued as of Moody hadn’t spoken, “if I hear about any more experiments with Unforgivables in your class, particularity if they involve my Slytherins, you’ll rue the day.”

Moody’s breath whistled though his teeth. “You surprise me, Snape. I thought you’d be defending the use of those spells,” he said, his magical eye roaming all about. “I felt sure a Dark magic aficionado like yourself would approve. Still, I’m the one who ended up in that post, so my curriculum is mine to decide.”

Snape drew himself up to full height. “Say what you want, Moody,” he said coldly. “But know this. You hurt anyone, and I shall be discussing it with Dumbledore.”

“Does your concern extend to the Potter boy, too?” Moody asked nastily. “I’ve heard how you’ve targeted him since he arrived.”

Snape bared his teeth in what Harry would have called a snarl. “I have saved that boy’s life several times. Just about everything I do is to that end.”

Moody smirked, and reaching into his robes, pulled out his ever-present flask. He took a deep swig, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Yes, so you say, yet it’s curious that young Potter doesn’t know how well you’ve protected him all his life. What do you know about him that I don’t?”

Snape compressed his lips. “That is for me and the Headmaster to know,” he said. “I’d advise you ask him if you think he’ll tell you.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets, Snape,” Moody said, shrugging. “And I’ll do the same. Good luck finding your missing potions ingredients.”

As he stomped away, going the opposite way of Harry and Ron’s location, Snape muttered, just loud enough for Harry to hear. “Indeed, I shall find the person responsible...”

With a whirl of his robes, Snape strode past their hiding place, and with sheer bad luck, he trod directly on Ron’s foot, stumbling in the process.

With a curse and a snarled “Lumos!” Snape backtracked, examining the spot where he’d almost tripped.

Harry held his breath, as did Ron, whose eyes were bright with the pain of having his foot crushed. They were crouched low to the ground, trying to make as small a target as possible out of themselves.

Snape was reaching out a hand, grasping at the apparently empty air when...

“Is someone there?” a voice asked, floating down the darkened hallway.

“Who’s asking?” Snape called out.

Sybill Trelawney drifted into view, peering at Snape. “Oh, it’s just you, Severus,” she said. She paused, staring closely at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Who says anything is wrong?” he asked, immediately bringing his hands to his side and facing her.

“There is a disturbance in your aura,” Trelawney said, and Harry, despite the dangerous position they were in, rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“I tripped,” Snape muttered. “It’s late. I’ve completed my patrol. Was there a reason you were up?”

She sighed dramatically. “The children are so excited about the second task that I thought I should send them soothing dreams tonight.”

Severus stared at her for a long moment as if debating with himself. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said finally.

She smiled and, removing a phial from her robes, took a drink. “My own concoction. To help the inner eye,” she explained after seeing his raised eyebrow.

He eyed the phial. “Indeed...”

She smiled, and Harry, given the perfect view of her face, sucked in a quick breath. For a moment, she looked sinister, and then it was gone, replaced by her usual vague mien. She tilted her head back and sighed.

“Ahhh... The spirits are out in force. Sweet dreams should be easy tonight, Severus,” she said, waving her arms at him, her diaphanous sleeves floating about.

Severus sighed, obviously exasperated with her antics, and after one last look about the quiet hallway, was gone.

Harry breathed a bit easier as Trelawney moved off as well.

“That was close,” he whispered.

Ron, still grimacing from the pain in his foot, nodded shortly.

“Do you want to go back, or should we keep looking?” Harry continued, watching Ron’s face closely.

Ron sighed. “Go back, please...”

Harry nodded. He would just have to trust that Hermione was all right, and that his Head of House knew that to be true. The conversation between Snape and Moody had certainly given him enough to think about that night anyway.

~

Albus Dumbledore looked over his glasses at his Potions master. Perhaps insisting he keep this secret was too much...?

“I think the information about the prophecy should remain just that, a secret,” he said.

Severus sighed. “At some point we shall have to tell Har... Mr. Potter, Albus. He deserves to know. We cannot just wait until He Who Must Not Be Named possibly returns and then say, ‘oh, by the way, we need you to kill this Dark lord for us, Harry’. He would rightly be upset in that event.”

Albus nodded slowly and sipped his tea. “Agreed, however it is unlikely that Voldemort will be returning soon. He has no body, after all. Unless there is something that you have not been telling me.”

Severus looked away from the perceptive old eyes.

“I have felt an ache in my arm the past few weeks,” he admitted. “It’s not pain... yet... but it is definitely more than I can account for with just nature.”

“Perhaps another of the Death Eaters is attempting to revive the group, and that is what you’re feeling?”

Severus shrugged. “He gave very few of his lieutenants that sort of power,” he said. “Lucius, perhaps. Maybe Bella...”

“Bella is dead. Killed in Azkaban months ago.”

Severus sighed. “And thank Merlin! She was truly sadistic, Albus. A monster of the worst kind. I cannot mourn her death.”

“Indeed. But who, of those left, could be trying to revive him?”

“I do not know, Albus,” Severus said. “But I have a bad feeling. I think we need to warn Potter.”

Albus nodded. “I shall take care of it before he leaves for the summer, Severus.”

Severus’ shoulders slumped. He hoped it would be enough time.

~

Harry looked around nervously as the champions prepared to rescue the ‘victims’ from the merpeople. Everyone had turned out to see the second task, except Hermione, and Harry had been really worried, until McGonagall, taking pity on himself and Ron, had taken them aside to explain that Hermione was safe and was set to be rescued by Krum.

Ron had turned pale, then bright red as she’d spoken, and Harry could see the struggle in his friend’s eyes.

“She’ll be fine, Ron,” Harry said soothingly as McGonagall walked away. “You’ve been rooting for Krum all along, why stop now?”

Ron sighed, but the tightness around his eyes did lessen a bit.

Harry looked about, spotting Snape standing next to Dumbledore and an official-looking man who was inspecting the scene with a supercilious air.

The competition itself only took an hour, and soon, Hermione was lying on the dock, being wrapped in a blanket and handed a cup of hot tea.

“My special brew, dear,” Harry heard Trelawney say as they stood there, waiting for a change to speak to Hermione. She nodded and accepted it gratefully, taking large sips.

Ron hovered nearby, but he didn’t step close, instead he silently watched as Krum, who was toweling off, approached her. He, too, was handed tea, and after taking a few gulps, stooped down and spoke to Hermione in a low voice.

As she listened, Hermione blushed, then nodded, smiling several times before Krum allowed himself to be whisked away to the podium to hear the verdict and be awarded his points.

“Finish your tea,” Trelawney instructed, and he did so, nodding politely at her before leaving.

That finally allowed Harry a chance to get close to Hermione and he sat down next to her, hugging her. “You okay?” he asked, mentally noting the scent of almonds. Trelawney really likes that tea...

She nodded, still sipping. “I don’t remember much,” she said. “Which is probably a good thing... Anyway, Professor McGonagall explained it all before they put me to sleep, so it was all right.”

Harry smiled. “Ron and I were really worried,” he said. “We went looking for you last night.”

She rolled her eyes, then giggled. “I should have known,” she said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, but I had no idea until they summoned me, and by then I wasn’t allowed back to the dorm.”

Ron, listening closely, crossed his arms and looked away.

“Ron? Are you all right?” Hermione asked.

He nodded curtly, face still turned away, and she sighed. “Are you angry with me, Ron?” she asked softly.

Ron sighed and shook his head. “I was just worried about you,” he said.

She smiled. “Oh, well thanks, then,” she said.

“We’re just glad that you’re okay,” Harry said, shooting a quick warning look at Ron, who flushed.

“What did Krum say to you?” Ron asked abruptly.

Hermione blinked. “What?”

“When he was whispering to you before. What did he say?”

“He... nothing, really.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. Even he could tell that that wasn’t the truth. Hermione was a terrible liar.

Ron saw right through it, of course, and with a muttered oath, turned and ran off.

“Ron!” He ignored Hermione’s cry and kept going. She turned to Harry. “Would you...?”

He nodded and took off after his friend, catching up with him when he’d almost reached the school building.

“Hey, why’d you run off?” he panted.

“I can’t believe she’s going out with Krum now,” Ron muttered. “I always figured she and I would...” He clamped his mouth shut as if he’d said too much.

“You and Hermione?” Harry paused and considered that. “I thought you were interested in Kru...” His mouth snapped shut.

“What about Viktor?”

Harry sighed. Was Ron really that unaware of his obsession? “I thought that you liked Krum, not Hermione.”

“I... what? Well, I do like him. I mean, I did like him, ‘til he stole Hermione.”

“Well, he didn’t really steal her, the professors were in on it.”

“No, I meant he stole her affections,” Ron said.

“You never acted as if you really liked Hermione in the first place, Ron, Krum on the other hand, I can see.”

“So you think that he and Hermione are a good couple?” Ron asked miserably.

Harry shrugged. “That’s not what I said, but I think that if you’re interested, you need to say something.”

“What did you mean, then?” Ron asked.

Harry hesitated. “I meant, it seems to me that you like Krum more than Hermione. You follow him about and stuff, so if you like Hermione, maybe you need to tell her.”

“I do like her,” Ron insisted. “It’s just... Krum’s so... well he’s...”

Harry took pity on him and patted his arm. “Hey. You don’t have to explain to me. But you might want to tell Hermione before they get too involved.”

“He must really like her,” Ron said glumly. “He did rescue her.”

“He watches you a lot, though,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Actually, I take that back. He watches both of you a lot.”

Ron frowned. “Really? I don’t know...”

But Harry was recalling all those mornings he’d gone out to watch Krum, and all those evening that Hermione had been in the library. Krum had been around both times, and the way he looked at Ron and Hermione was equivalent as far as Harry could tell.

“I think you need to decide which one you want,” Harry said. “Because, you might have a chance with either.”

It was a thoughtful Ron who walked back to their room with Harry.

~

The first Harry heard about the Yule Ball was when he came upon two girls chattering in the common room. They stared over at him, whispering together and giggling.

“I think they’re curious about who you’re going with.”

Harry stared at Ginny as she walked around him. “Going to what with?” he asked, confused.

“I suppose that means you haven’t seen the sign?” she asked. “It’s posted.”

Harry sighed, and walking out of the common room, took a few minutes to locate the sign that Ginny had been taking about.

“A Yule Ball?” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Great. Just what I need...”

“Something wrong, Mr. Potter?”

Harry turned to see Snape standing there, arms crossed, an odd look on his face.

“You plan to attend this event, Potter?” he asked, nodding towards the sign.

Harry shrugged.

Snape looked him over critically. “Have you ever... danced?”

Harry shook his head.

“Typical. Very well, I shall discuss this deficiency with your Head of House.”

Harry watched, flummoxed, as Snape swirled away, wondering when and why his Potions professor had begun to care about his dancing skills.

~

Ron seemed determined to piss Hermione off, Harry decided a few days later. He seemed to vacillate between hovering anxiously over Hermione, looking away whenever she tried to talk to him or even look at him, and glaring at her when she spoke with Krum.

Harry decided to stay out of it, deciding that they all needed to sort it themselves. After all, he had his own problems.

He was still having disturbing dreams, not about the Quidditch World Cup anymore, now they featured him and Snape in what Harry could only classify as compromising positions. The third morning he woke up amidst sticky sheets, gasping Snape’s first name; he knew he had to do something, but what?

At least Ron was no longer rousting him from bed to pose for Krum. Now, more likely, they’d spend the afternoon haunting the Quidditch pitch, where, about half the time, Krum and several of his classmates would fly in rigid formations, the rest of their time being spent running laps.

Harry entertained the idea of asking his Head of House for advice, but, seeing as it involved another professor, he wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. Dumbledore might have had some good advice, yet Harry thought he’d have to kill himself if he went to a man who was a hundred and fifty if he was day for sex advice. So that left but one person.

He sent his owl discreetly and was on pins and needles for days before he got the terse and mysterious reply.

‘Meet me in the Gryffindor common room tonight at midnight. Love, Snuffles’ the note said, and while it raised Harry’s eyebrows, he knew better than to question. Magic could do things he couldn’t imagine, so he wasn’t going to take any chances.

At twelve that night he crept downstairs into the deserted common room. The fire was burning low and he took a slow turn about the room before standing in the very middle, wondering where and when Sirius would appear.

“Harry...”

The voice was coming from the direction of the fireplace, and Harry started, looking about suspiciously before going over. And there, in the embers, to his astonishment, appeared Sirius’ face.

“Good to see you, Harry,” Sirius said, as Harry stooped over to get closer. “How are you?”

Harry, inordinately pleased to see him, grinned and said, “I’m all right. How’re you?”

Sirius winked. “Tolerable,” he said. “Now, tell me what’s got you in knots...”

Harry had already decided that he was going to be straight with Sirius, since he really needed advice, but now that the time was here, this was really difficult.

“I... erm... I’ve been having these dreams...”

Sirius chuckled. “Oh, those kinds of dreams, then?” He winked again. “My, you’re growing up fast... All right, then. Who is she? Is she cute?”

Harry blushed. “I... she’s not... I mean, it’s not like that, exactly...”

Sirius’ face softened somehow. “Is it some boy, Harry?” he asked, shocking Harry immensely. “Nothing wrong with that, either, you know.”

Harry let out the breath he’d been holding. “There’s not?” he said, shoulders relaxing.

Sirius smiled gently. “Nothing at all,” he said. “In fact, I...” He appeared about to say something significant, but a sound behind Harry had him turning around.

Ron was there, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

Harry sighed. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Just decided to get up and stretch my legs.”

Ron peered at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Funny. Thought I heard voices... Guess not. All right, mate,” he said. “Wake me up if you need to, yeah?”

Harry nodded and waved as Ron went back up the stairs, turning back towards the fire as soon as he could.

Sirius was still looking up at him.

“What were you saying?” Harry asked.

Sirius smiled. “Nothing important. Let’s deal with your dilemma first, okay? So you like this boy, and you can’t tell if he likes you, is that it? You need to let him know how you feel?”

Harry nodded. “Something like that,” he said. “And you should know, he’s a bit older than I am...”

Sirius smiled. “More experienced then, yeah? That might be a good thing. Just make sure he knows you’re a novice and he should be gentle. I’ll send you some books from my... from the family collection that might help sort some things out, all right? And, in the meantime, there’s nothing wrong with having dreams or even the occasional daytime fantasy, Harry. Everyone does it. It’s a healthy thing to do.”

Harry smiled, relieved. He’d been sure his uncle had been wrong about gays being perverted, but he’d just needed confirmation from someone he could trust. Now, nights wouldn’t be so terrifying for him, although he wasn’t sure his godfather would be too happy to learn the object of his desires was Snape.

They chatted for a few more minutes, Sirius appearing quite interested in Moody’s being DADA professor, and very receptive to Harry’s complaints about Trelawney’s odd behaviour.

“Odder than usual?” Sirius asked. “Wow, hard to imagine!”

After sharing a chuckle, Sirius shooed Harry off to bed with the admonition to have ‘sweet dreams’, at which suggestion, Harry went bright red.

In fact, he did have lovely dreams that night, in which Snape, who told Harry to call him Severus, introduced him to many pleasures.

~

Ron was pouting again as they walked into what was supposed to be their Transfiguration class. The room had been cleared of all desks, however, a large space remained in the centre for who knew what.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin boys lined the walls, eyes bright with curiosity as Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape walked in.

“As you all know, we are hosting a Yule Ball this year, in honour of our guests who are here participating in the Triwizard Tournament. It is expected that you shall all be able to comport yourselves adequately should you attend the ball with a companion.”

Ron muttered under his breath, “I’m not going, so I don’t have to learn the sodding dance...”

Unfortunately, McGonagall seemed to have excellent hearing.

“Mr. Weasley! Thank you for volunteering. Come here.”

Ron looked around wildly, but everyone else was too convulsed with laughter to be much help. With a sigh, he stepped forward to allow McGonagall to show him what to do.

“You shall be dancing with me,” she declared, and Ron turned a distinct shade of green.

“And, just so it remains an equal opportunity lesson,” drawled Snape, “Mr. Potter shall dance with me.”

Harry froze as the titters rose about him. Oh God, he simply couldn’t! His body would embarrass him for sure.

But, evidently Snape didn’t care about that, nor did his traitorous cock, which twitched in anticipation of being in contact, albeit fleeting, with the object of his many fantasies.

“Well? I don’t have all day, Potter.”

Harry walked forward slowly, his feet dragging, mind racing. Was there any way to salvage this? To somehow let Snape know how he felt? Would he dare even hint such a thing in full view of almost the entire school, including Malfoy, who looked as if he was about to burst into laughter?

“Relax, Potter,” came the murmur in his ear as Snape manoeuvred his arms into place. “This will be over soon.”

“More’s the pity,” Harry replied automatically, freezing as what he’d just said made it to his brain.

Snape paused for a long moment before pulling Harry close. “Indeed?” he said. “You are a constant surprise, Mr. Potter.”

Harry sighed, releasing the breath he’d been holding and letting Snape lead him about the room. Neither of them spoke, and they followed an uncomfortable looking Ron and McGonagall as they danced, not realizing the striking picture they made.

The lesson was over all too soon, and as Snape released him to pick a new partner to tutor, Harry wondered why his back still tingled from where Snape had held him.

~

“Much as it pains me to say it, Harry, you and Snape looked good dancing together.”

Harry shrugged, dipping his head lower as he ate his lunch. Ron simply would not stop talking about the dance lesson; Harry guessed it was his way of working up the courage to ask Hermione to the ball. Finally.

Hermione seemed singularly unimpressed, though. “Yes, she did a lesson for the girls, too,” she informed Ron loftily. “Although we had Trelawney there as our second tutor.”

Harry couldn’t help the burst of pleasure that went through him at the thought that Snape hadn’t danced with any of the girls.

“Well, now that we all know how to comport ourselves,” Ron said, his voice trembling a bit, “maybe we’ll get dates, yeah?”

“Some of us already have dates,” Hermione said breezily. “Some of us don’t wait until the very last minute, you know.”

Ron shook his head. “You don’t have to pretend, Hermione,” he said. “You don’t have a date, so maybe we could all...”

Hermione slammed down her books, interrupting him mid sentence. “I do too have a date, Ron Weasley!” she whispered furiously. “Just because you can’t get one doesn’t mean I can’t!”

“Who asked you, then?” Ron said, his face turning red.

As she gathered her things, she looked as if she were about to cry. “Viktor Krum asked me, if you must know! He asked ages ago, and I told him yes. So find yourself some other last minute date.”

With that, she pushed away from the table and practically ran from the room. Ginny shot her brother an exasperated look and got up as well.

Ron looked around at all the frowning faces at the table. “What?” he said. “How was I to know?” With a muttered curse, he stood and stormed off.

Harry sighed. Ron would be inconsolable.

~

As predicted, Ron was even more impossible to live with, and now, every girl in Gryffindor was ignoring him, apparently having heard about what he’d said to Hermione. He spent most of his spare time complaining to Harry about it, but Harry was only half listening. He had his own problems.

Potions classes were now spent in an agony of anticipation that Snape might speak to him or even touch him. But, Snape ignored him, and Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

No one else seemed to notice that the Potions professor wasn’t taking as many points from Harry, although, of course, he still managed to deduct a fair amount from Neville on a regular basis.

And, when Harry would look up mid-lesson it was to see Snape staring at him, a closed expression on his face. Harry didn’t know what to make of it, and he certainly wasn’t sending another message to ask Sirius for more advice.

The day after he’d had his fireside chat with his godfather, a package had arrived, carried by a common brown owl. Harry, pleased, fortunately had received it while alone. It had proved to be a very graphic book all about the mechanics of gay sex.

Once he’d gotten over the shock of the moving pictures, Harry had spent a long time poring over the pages, and now he knew a lot more about what to expect from a relationship with a man. But now, he’d taken to envisioning himself with Snape doing those things, and it was quite distracting.

During class was the worst. Harry would often bite his lip and will down his erection as Snape was lecturing. His silken voice had a way of wrapping itself around Harry at the most inopportune moments.

Harry had not even considered if he was going to the ball, and if so, who with. He would have to ask a girl, he supposed, and he was quickly running out of options. Ron, of course, could only stand the tension so long before he did something foolish.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, walking into the common room to find his friend collapsed into a chair, dazed and confused.

Ginny, who was fanning him, rolled her eyes. “He asked Fleur to the ball,” she snapped. “As if she’d go with him...”

Harry shook his head. “Ron, why’d you go and do that?”

Ron, still glassy-eyed, smiled dopily. “I... she was just there, Harry! And she turned to me and smiled, and I... it just slipped out.”

Harry sighed. This was out of hand. They both needed dates, and quickly.

Glancing about the room, he spotted Parvati and Padma, giggling in the corner. As if they felt his regard, they both looked up at him and giggled harder.

“It’s all right, Ron,” he said, patting his friend’s hand. “I’ll fix this. You are sure you want to go, though, right?”

“Well sure! We’ve got to go to the ball,” Ron said.

Harry squared his shoulders. He could do this. The twins were friends, they would understand that it was just so that he and Ron had dates to go...

By that night, however, he wasn’t sure he’d done such a good thing.

“You asked Padma and Parvati to go to the ball with us?” Ron asked for about the tenth time that evening.

Harry shrugged. “Well, we needed dates and they were available. It worked out.”

Ron smiled and nodded, although his troubled glance over to where Hermione was sitting spoke volumes.

Harry understood the feeling. After all, he could hardly ask the person he really wanted to either.

~

Severus watched as Harry --no, he had to remember to call him ‘Potter’ or ‘the boy’, even in his own thoughts-- Potter chewed on his bottom lip. They were brewing a particularly difficult potion today, a variation of Dreamless Sleep and it was proving to be a challenge, even for Malfoy and Granger, both quite skilled brewers.

As Harry continued to concentrate on his task, Severus ran a surreptitious gaze over him, noting how much he’d grown, even in a few short months.

Not enough to be considered a possible sexual partner, though, he reminded himself. He remains, above all, a student, no matter what confused steps he was taking towards the recognition of his own sexuality.

He probably didn’t even realize that he was flirting during that dance lesson, Snape thought broodingly, his mind once again recalling how Harry’s lithe body had felt moving rhythmically next to his own.

He scowled. His body had reacted strongly towards Harry that day. It had been years since he’d needed to retire to his rooms and masturbate because of innocent contact like that dance. Yes, he usually noticed Harry, but he’d been careful to think of him as a student, and to remind himself of Harry’s unfortunate parentage, but those tricks were no longer working.

He watched as one of the Patils caught Harry’s eye, smiled and winked. Harry blushed and looked away. Was there something going on there? he wondered, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest at that thought.

It was none of his business if Potter was dating one or even both of the Patil twins. Not even a little...

“Patil! Eyes on your cauldron. Ten points from Gryffindor for inattention to your work.”

Surely such petty vindictiveness is wrong, but it feels so good, Severus thought, smirking as the girl winced and looked down.

He glanced over to see how Harry was taking the disciplining of his girlfriend, but rather than appearing upset, Harry was staring at him, an oddly speculative look on his face.

Severus held those green eyes with his until Harry, blushing, looked away. Shaking himself mentally, Severus stood and prepared to test the potions. Surely, he had to have been imagining the look of interest in boy’s eyes. It must have been the poor dungeon light that made it appear to be anything but the customary fear and loathing he was used to seeing.

Severus avoided eye-contact with Harry again for the rest of the lesson, but at times it was inevitable, and he felt every one of Harry’s looks down to his toes.

~

Harry checked himself in the mirror. These robes aren’t too awful, he decided.

He’d never had formal robes before, and McGonagall, somehow intuiting this, had taken him to Hogsmeade for a fitting. The robes had arrived the next day, and Harry had hidden them, not wanting Ron to see them and feel bad.

They had all been there when his robes had arrived from home, and the frilly cuffs and awful orange color had even made him wince, and he was used to hand me downs.

Harry sighed and pressed down one more time on his unruly hair, but it made no difference. With a shrug, he set off to find Ron.

Harry’s ears were still ringing when they got to the Great Hall. Ron had not been pleased that Harry actually looked somewhat normal for this, letting out a yell upon seeing Harry. He was still muttering about looking like a freak, much to Padma’s chagrin.

When the two couples arrived, Harry’d stood transfixed by the way that the Hall had been transformed into a winter palace for the purposes of the ball. Large, ornate ice sculptures were literally everywhere, and the centre of the room had been transformed into an enormous dance floor.

Harry stood to the side, watching as the Triwizard champions led their chosen dates into the room, thus signaling the start of the ball. As Krum gallantly twirled Hermione about, Harry could feel Ron getting more and more upset next to him.

“Erm, how about some punch?” he suggested.

Ron sighed. “Yeah, all right.” He offered the twins an arm each and led them over to some tables, while Harry went to collect their drinks.

He started for the refreshment area, halting when he saw who was standing guard over the punch.

Snape in dress robes was a formidable sight, Harry decided, taking in the tall, trim figure swathed in black from head to toe, with just a touch of white at his collar and cuffs. The robes had a pattern in the fabric, and they shimmered under the glittering lights. Harry stopped breathing for a moment, hit by a wave of sheer lust before he reined it in.

Gods, he looks fabulous!

Snape, feeling someone looking at him, swung to face Harry, who, coming back to his senses, squared his shoulders and continued towards the table. I can do this, I can do this, I can do...

“Professor,” Harry murmured as he collected the cups to take punch back to his companions.

Snape inclined his head. “Mr. Potter,” he said, that voice sending shivers down Harry’s spine. “I am surprised that you are not out on the dance floor. You were quite adequate during practice.”

Harry gaped. “I... erm... what?” he said unintelligently, turning to face Snape, cups forgotten.

“As your dance instructor, I was in a unique position to judge your dance performance firsthand. You are a competent dancer, Mr. Potter. Go and dance.”

Harry smiled and stepped closer. “Are you saying that you... enjoyed dancing with me, sir?” he asked.

Severus crossed his arms. “I cannot say that, Mr. Potter, however, I have not yet seen you squire Miss Patil about. That is the point of your being at this ball, is it not? To impress your date?”

“I aim to impress someone, that’s true,” Harry said boldly.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. Well, do be careful, Mr. Potter,” he said. “There are those who might misinterpret your words.”

As Harry began to move closer, intent on declaring his interest, a high-pitched voice sounded behind him.

“Severus! There you are! And with... Harry Potter.”

Professor Trelawney was blinking at them, lurching alarmingly, a cup of something blood-red held precariously in her hands. Harry imagined it wasn’t the same punch the students were drinking...

“Oh!” Harry cried, suddenly remembering the punch he’d been asked to bring back for his friends ages ago. “I... erm, have to go...”

With a sheepish look, he picked up a tray with four full cups on it and started back for where Ron had been, grimacing a bit as Trelawney began haranguing Snape.

Severus, Harry decided on the way back to Ron. I’m going to start calling him Severus in my head.

As he walked over to the tables, he realized that Ron was gone, only Parvati and Padma were there, whispering together furiously.

“Where’s Ron?” he asked, placing the tray down in front of them.

Padma shrugged. “I dunno, Harry,” she said. “He was watching the dancers and then he turned red, stood up, and stormed out those doors there.” She pointed to some side doors that led outside to a mini skating rink that had been set up.

Harry frowned. “I’d better go after him, then,” he said.

Parvati pouted. “He’s probably out there fighting with Krum and Hermione,” she said, taking a sip of her punch. “They were the ones he followed outside.”

Harry sighed. “Of course,” he murmured, starting for the doors. He caught Parvati’s disgusted look as he left, but decided to leave anyway.

The dance floor was crowded, so Harry had to skirt the edges to make it around to where the doors were. As he pushed outside, he took a deep breath of the winter air and looked about.

Funny, I don’t hear yelling...

Following the path around a corner, he held his breath, expecting to see just about anything, from Ron bleeding, knocked to the ground by Krum, to Hermione standing over both of them. Anything, in fact, but what he actually saw.

Ron was sitting on a bench, calmly talking and laughing with Krum with Hermione between them. Harry started forward, then paused. Krum had just taken Ron’s hands in his own and was brushing a kiss over Ron’s knuckles, even as Hermione smiled at them both.

Harry’s mouth fell open in shock.

“I wondered if there was something going on between those three,” Neville said from somewhere slightly behind him.

Harry jumped. “Neville, what...?”

Smiling, Neville inclined his head, indicating that Harry should follow him. Harry did so, looking back once more at the oblivious trio.

“Viktor’s been all Ron would talk about the past few weeks,” he said. “And Krum watched him, too. When he invited Hermione to the ball I wondered what would happen. Looks like they worked it out.”

“You think Krum likes both Ron and Hermione?” Harry’s voice came out a bit shriller than he would have liked. “But that’s...”

Neville shushed him. “Shh! They’ll hear you. And yeah, it’s unusual, but I’ve heard that it’s possible.”

“I... wow, Neville. How do you even know about such things?”

Neville blushed. “I’ve read a lot of pureblood histories. Such things are not totally unheard of. Anyway, it’s not as if they’re getting married or anything, but you have to admit that they looked like they fit well together.”

Harry nodded slowly. It had looked like that actually, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It had been the three of them for so long that he had to wonder how this would impact his relationship with his friends.

“Anyway, I’m off to bed. Se you later, Harry.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, still a bit shocked.

Neville smiled. “And you seemed to be getting along well with Snape earlier,” he said.

“Erm, what?” Harry gaped at Neville.

Neville shrugged. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I think it’s good that you’ve finally worked out whatever it was going on between you,” he said. “And I was just saying that you two looked good together as you were talking.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Gods, he hoped he hadn’t been too obvious...

“Thanks, I think.”

Neville smiled again. “You’re welcome, Harry. Goodnight.”

As Harry watched him go, he thought about all Neville’d said, and, curious, decided to backtrack to where Krum, Hermione and Ron had been... doing whatever it was they’d been doing.

No one was there when he arrived, though, so, with a sigh, he headed back to the Gryffindor tower to think about all that had happened.

“Igor, I am considering what you’re suggesting, but it’s simply too dangerous to contemplate...” Harry froze at the sound of Snape’s... no, Severus’ voice on the path in front of him, and in a split second decision, hid behind a bush just in time to see two figures walking towards him.

“Severus, have you not felt it? The burning? The need?”

Harry frowned. Surely, these two weren’t more than simple colleagues, were they?

“I might have felt a twinge, but that doesn’t signify anything...”

Giggles sounded in the distance, and both men went silent.

“This is neither the time, nor the place for this discussion,” Severus said, and to Harry he sounded weary.

“There is no better time. Things can happen fast, Severus. I am offering you...”

“I am aware of what you offer, Igor.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

Severus’ head swung in his direction. “Igor, this is really not the place...”

Karkaroff raised his hand. “Very well. But we shall speak of this later, trust me, Severus. I am not giving up on you.”

The gruff man spun on his heel and took off down the path, while Severus turned towards Harry’s hiding place. “You might as well come out now,” he said, his voice cool and soft.

Harry debated staying where he was, then sighed and stepped forward into the moonlight.

“Why are you still up?” Severus asked.

Harry shrugged, looking down at the ground.

Severus smirked. “Now, where is the bold young man from the ball, I wonder? Or was it all a game to you? If it was, it’s a dangerous one.”

Harry raised his face to look up at Severus’. “I am not playing,” he said. “I like you.”

Severus’ face softened slightly and he leaned in. “I take it you overheard my conversation with Igor and it upset you?” He sighed, his breath ruffling Harry’s hair. His sharp eyes took in Harry’s flinch. “Would you entertain the idea that you might have misinterpreted what you just heard, Harry?”

Harry glanced up, surprised to hear his given name fall so easily from Severus’ lips, only to begin shivering at the look in Severus’ eyes, his own eyes widening. “I suppose so... I’m sorry I listened in. I didn’t think...”

Severus chuckled dryly, moving back as if to straighten up. “Indeed, I am well aware of that trait in you,” he said.

He didn’t move quickly enough, however, and, as Harry tilted his head up, his face moved closer to Severus’. They both froze, Harry’s mouth parting in an unconsciously seductive way. Severus hovered there for a moment, the sexual tension between them palpable.

With a final regretful look at Harry’s open face, Severus sighed and pulled back. “It’s time for you to get back to your dormitory.”

“Oh but... can’t we just...”

Severus held up a hand. “Whatever you think you feel for me, Mr. Potter, I cannot act on it.”

Harry crossed his arms at the cool tone in Severus’ voice. “You almost kissed me just now. I wanted you to. I still want you to. I know exactly what I feel,” he said, stubbornly. “Just because I’m young, doesn’t mean...”

Severus shook his head. “Must I remind you, that you are fourteen, Mr. Potter? In any civilized society that is too young to know what you want for breakfast, much less what you are looking for in a sexual partner.”

“You called me Harry before,” Harry said softly. “I liked how that sounded.”

Severus closed his eyes. “Harr... Mr. Potter, I cannot do this. You are too young and you are my student. Now, return to your room immediately.”

“I’ll get older, Severus,” Harry said clearly. “And I think you’ll find that I know my own mind.”

As Severus watched the infuriating, stubborn, foolishly impulsive and beautiful boy walk away, he raised a shaking hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a long moment, he set out to do his patrol, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth.

~

Harry woke up disoriented, but quickly got his bearings. He was in his own bed in Gryffindor, despite what his dreams had tried to convince him of.

He stretched, and the memory of being on soft sheets, a tall, warm body curled around his was so vivid that he closed his eyes to try to hold on to the feeling.

His dreams seemed ridiculously real to him now, and, despite his realization that Severus was probably right about the divide between them, his body knew what it wanted, and it wanted Severus.

“Shite,” he muttered.

Getting out of bed was preferable to brooding, he decided, so pushing back his curtains, he looked over to Ron’s bed. Only Ron wasn’t there.

“He never came home,” Neville observed from across the room. “I guess things worked out for them.”

Harry blinked. Surely Ron hadn’t been with Hermione and Krum all night?

“So, I guess Ron got lucky,” Seamus said, walking in.

Harry’s eyes widened, and he looked sharply at Neville, mentally willing him not to say anything. Neville simply shrugged.

“Guess so,” he said.

“Erm, yeah,” Harry said. “He must’ve made up with Hermione or something.” He muttered the last bit, his face brightening as he blushed under Neville’s calm look.

“Well, good on him,” Seamus said, grabbing his books before walking out. Neville’s calm eyes took in Harry’s discomfort, and he nodded reassuringly at him before he, too, walked out.

Harry quickly gathered his things to shower, wondering whether he should consider going in search of his friend. But where would he look? More importantly, what would he do if he found him with Krum?

After a fast wash, which involved only a perfunctory wank, Harry decided to at least make a discreet attempt to find Ron.

Breakfast was sparsely attended; apparently everyone was still recovering from the night before, and fortunately, there were no classes. There was no sign of Ron, Hermione or Krum at breakfast, and Harry began to worry.

Once he’d eaten, Harry went to the Quidditch pitch to look for them. He saw most of the Durmstrang students, but no evidence of his friends or Krum, and no one knew where they were. He checked the astronomy tower, the kitchens, the owlery, and even the lake, but with no luck.

Giving up, he decided to head back to the Great Hall. This was Ron, and no matter what, he would have to show up for a meal sometime.

“Potter!”

Harry spun at the sound of his name, surprised to see Professor Moody walking towards him. “I need your help, lad,” the ex-Auror said as he drew closer.

“Sir?” Harry couldn’t imagine what the man needed from him, but he certainly was at loose ends at the moment.

“I’m preparing the last task,” Moody confided as they resumed walking towards the school. “And I need a reliable helper to assist me. I can manage by myself, of course, but this will be easier to do with an extra pair of hands.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Erm... sure, I guess,” he said. “But what do you need me to do?”

Moody patted him on the back. “Better if I don’t tell you too much,” he said, his eye roiling madly in his head. “Let’s just say, the trees have ears. Meet me tomorrow afternoon at the pitch. And, Potter? You’re a lot like your father. He liked to be a help, too.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. Mad-Eye Moody had known his father? Just as he was about to ask for more details, when a shrill cry came from behind them.

“Professor Moody!”

Harry took a step backwards as Professor Trelawney came running towards them. “Beware the spirits, Professor! They are angry!”

“Tomorrow, Potter.”

Both Moody‘s eyes were rolling as he spoke, then he turned on his heel and limped away as fast as he could. Harry almost laughed at the comical sight of Trelawney following, chattering at him at top speed.

A distant laugh made him turn his head. That sounded like... “Ron?” he called out, stepping off the path and pushing through underbrush.

The sounds grew louder until Harry came upon a clearing. And there, sitting on a blanket, laughing uproariously at what had to have been a very funny joke, were Ron, Krum and Hermione. A basket was on the blanket, and to Harry’s eyes it appeared to be a very romantic scene, only with three people.

They’re still at it? was Harry’s first thought, followed quickly by, They look so comfortable together.

As he watched, Krum leaned over and fed Hermione a morsel, which she accepted eagerly, making a point of licking his fingers.

Ron looked on indulgently, and, to Harry’s amazement, Krum’s other hand was on Ron’s thigh. The Bulgarian squeezed Ron gently, and, in a slow move that Harry saw from a mile away, leaned in to capture Ron’s lips, even as Hermione kept sucking his fingers.

“Aren’t they lovely?” a voice behind him said, and, as Harry emitted a surprised yelp, a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. Harry almost fainted.

“Isn’t it wonderful? The spirits approve of their joining,” Trelawney whispered, pulling her hand away once Harry seemed calmer. “This is the true trio of the stars.”

Harry gaped at her. “What?”

She gestured him away from the clearing, and after a brief hesitation, he followed. To be honest, he had mixed feelings about what he’d seen. They’d all looked so happy that he couldn’t begrudge them, yet, a part of him was resentful that his two best friends had apparently found the love he was striving so hard for. Here he was, still all alone, the one he wanted so much that he’d all but thrown himself at him, completely out of his reach. It wasn’t fair!

Trelawney stopped once they were a respectable distance from the trysting trio and turned to him, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“One who looks in from the outside is often doomed to heartbreak,” she said. “But such things are often ordained, written in the stars.”

Harry sighed and looked down, thinking how used he was to that feeling.

“But you have your own destiny,” she continued. “It’s not an easy one, but you should not give up just because your goal seems insurmountable. Remember to always look with the heart.”

Surely she doesn’t know how I feel about Severus...

Harry blushed and looked away, squirming uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure he wanted romantic advice from Trelawney, in fact, all he wanted to do was go somewhere and lick his wounds in private. But her next words made him look up.

“Do not begrudge your friends their happiness, Harry,” she said kindly. “You don’t, do you?”

He shrugged. “It just seems a bit... sudden is all,” he said, clearly uncomfortable.

She smiled. “This might just be the point where your paths diverge. Perhaps it’s time to make your own way. The savior must ofttimes be alone.”

“So... it’s okay? For three people to be together like that?” he blushed as he asked the question, and she nodded.

“It sometimes happens,” she said. “Just as age is sometimes no deterrent to whom one finds attractive.”

Harry ducked his head once more, but she was off.

“Take, for example, you. If you found someone older attractive, no one could blame you, really. That’s just the way it is, just as if, say, someone like myself felt romantic interest in someone younger, like, say, a student, it would have to be a discreet relationship.”

Harry stared at her, not sure what to make of the fact that she was giving him romantic advice. And surely she wasn’t saying that she had feelings for him, was she?

“Anyway,” she continued airily, ignoring his shocked silence, “should you need to talk about anything, I am available to you, Mr. Potter. I know Minerva is your Head of House, but she can be quite stern, and she might not approve of a more... unorthodox relationship. So, my doors are open to you.”

Harry nodded as he backed away, feeling a bit dazed.

“Off with you, then,” she said. “Professor Moody tells me you are helping him with the last task.” She winked. “I have agreed to do the same. Perhaps we can talk more later.”

By the time he ran into Ron and Hermione that evening at dinner, Harry was calmer. He decided that he had to have read into what Trelawney had said earlier. There was no way she could have been hinting that she liked him...

He sat next to his friends at dinner, and he didn’t ask where they’d been that afternoon, although several of their house-mates teased them, and their blushes apparently confirmed the rumor that they were finally a couple.

Harry smiled along with the rest of them, and while he hoped they would eventually be honest with him about things, he wasn’t going to push. He had yet to tell them how he felt about Severus, and that fact was eating at him. Of course, since there wasn’t anything to tell regarding Snape, he wasn’t sure what he’d have said anyway.

Snape, for his part, was apparently ignoring Harry. Not once did he look towards the Gryffindor table that Harry saw, so finally, he gave up on his surreptitious looks towards the professors’ table and ate his dinner in silence. After all, he was slated to help Moody tomorrow, and since he didn’t know what he’d be doing, he figured he needed lots of rest.

When Hermione and Ron left together, Harry watched them go, sighing when he saw Krum join them at the door.

He pushed away from the table to go up to his room, not noticing the several pairs of eyes that followed his departure with interest.

~

Severus struggled to maintain his impassive face as Weasley and Granger, all but entwined about each other, rose to leave the Great Hall.

He’d always known Gryffindors were demonstrative, but these were being quite nauseating. When Krum met them at the door and openly took Hermione’s hand, even as Weasley watched, Severus almost choked on his dinner roll.

Something is not right, he decided, watching with narrowed eyes as Harry, visibly depressed, ate his meal and left, hardly having spoken with anyone.

He’d been paying particular attention to Harry since the night of the Yule Ball, and but for the occasional longing look across the room, Harry had made no obvious moves. Severus was unreasonably peeved.

He’s supposed to be a sodding Gryffindor, he thought the next day as he saw Harry make an abortive move towards him, then pull back.

But he had to admit that Harry was only acting the way he’d told him to. Odd that it was so disappointing...

Severus thought again about the strange behaviour he’d seen in Harry’s friends lately. The Granger girl, who generally was loyal to a fault, had been ignoring Harry, as had Weasley, who was also usually a permanent fixture at Harry’s side. It was almost as if...

Severus sat up straight, an idea coming to him. Surely it wasn’t possible...? Thinking about it more, he decided it was entirely possible. And all the parties involved were acting quite uncharacteristically.

He would have to examine their food and drink, he decided, but when and how? Fortunately, he was quite familiar with Amortentia, for him it smelled like bitter oranges, so all he would need to do was walk by any of them to sniff.

He stiffened as a bad thought occurred to him. Had Harry been exposed, was that why he was suddenly interested in his greasy and previously hated Potions master?

Severus sighed. And why did that thought make him angry?

He noted Weasley’s, Granger’s and Harry’s cups and dishes. He would have to try to get to them before the house-elves did. He wasn’t sure he could...

Standing as soon as propriety allowed, he bit out a curt goodnight to Dumbledore and Moody, and in a small deviation from his usual path out of the Great Hall, walked directly by the Gryffindor table.

He took a deep sniff and almost groaned at the scent that assaulted his sensitive nose. Bitter oranges!

An aural investigation of the Durmstrang section of the Slytherin table revealed the same scent.

I’d better track them all down, he thought as he left the room. But the question is, who is feeding them all Amortentia, and why?

~

The day of the last task dawned cold and dreary, exactly matching Harry’s mood. Once more, Ron wasn’t in his bed, and it looked as if it hadn’t been slept in or even touched.

“They must be making up for lost time,” Seamus said, nodding towards Ron’s neatly made bed as he snickered.

Harry smiled wanly. “Yeah, looks like it,” he agreed. He carefully avoided looking at Neville, who was proving to be far too astute for Harry’s comfort.

After his shower, he managed to avoid most people throughout the day, making his way to the pitch that afternoon. As he drew near, he saw it had been replaced by dense shrubbery which was obviously magical.

He quickly spotted both Ron and Hermione huddled together in the stands, along with the rest of the school, who were alternately cheering and shouting for their favourite contestant.

His friends tried to wave him over, but, while he did wave back, he stayed where he was, expecting to meet Professor Moody any minute.

“Harry!”

Harry turned at the sound of an unexpectedly feminine whisper, to see Trelawney speaking to him from behind a hedge.

“Come with me, Harry. Professor Moody wants us to meet him in the centre of the maze.”

Harry looked about, and, seeing no one looking, stepped into the path where she had been, following her trail. She kept just ahead of him, waving her arms gaily as she flitted around the corners.

Harry dragged his feet. He should have been excited about this, really. It was quite an honour to be involved, even at this level, with a legendary contest, and if everything else in his life had been working well, he was sure he’d be tremendously excited, but all he could think at the moment was how he wished things could be back the way they’d been before. When he’d had best friends who did everything with him, and who he could have told about his newfound feelings for Snape.

“Harry!”

Trelawney’s voice drifted back to him and he sped up, suddenly wanting this over with. He glanced behind him a few times, thinking that there was someone there, but he couldn’t see anyone.

The mist was heavy on the ground, obscuring everything, and more than once, Harry found himself clutching at his wand reflexively.

He came from around a corner, passed some trees, and paused.

Trelawney was standing there, waiting for him, and Professor Moody was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah, there you are,” she said. “I was wondering if you got lost.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I just fell behind,” he said. “Where’s Professor Moody?”

“He’ll be along shortly.” She smiled. “But no matter. I know what to do. He asked that we lift the Cup into place for him. To do that, I think we’ll have to both grab it at the same time.”

Harry nodded, still doubtful. She seemed different to him; he was unable to say why, however.

As he walked over, he felt that feeling he was being watched again, and looked back behind him, but still, no one was there.

“What’s the matter? Scared?” Trelawney asked, and Harry shook his head.

“No...”

She smiled, and Harry shivered. “Don’t worry. We won’t be in here long. Now, just help me lift this up...”

Harry reached for the handle of the Cup at the same time she did, and as he did so, felt his shoulder being grasped by long fingers.

“What the...?” but the rest of the words were whipped from his mouth as the tug of a Portkey overwhelmed him.

He stared about him as scenes flashed by, and Trelawney’s face was turned away, so he could only imagine that she, too, was shocked...

Someone tugged at his robes and he tried to look behind him, but again, saw no one there.

They landed with a bump, and Harry looked about. They were in a graveyard, and the tall tombstones cast sinister shadows. As he caught his breath, he heard insane laughter coming from... Trelawney?

She turned back towards him, and he gasped. Her features were morphing, changing, and, even as he watched, they rearranged themselves into a more sinister shape.

Her eyes were now dark, piercing, and she might have been an attractive woman, but for the hollow gauntness of her cheeks and her starved appearance.

He stepped back involuntarily.

Her eyes burned with malevolence. She flipped long black hair over her shoulder and smiled.

“Well, I can finally show you my true face, Potter,” she said, her voice low and harsh. “Do you know who I am?”

Harry simply gaped at her.

She chuckled, and the sound made the hairs on Harry’s neck stand on end.

“I, boy, am your worst nightmare. And you are the way I’m going to revive my Dark Lord. Immobulus!”

Harry was caught, frozen in the spot, his mind caught in terror even as his body refused to move.

“My name,” she continued, strolling away from him casually, “is Bellatrix Black-Lestrange. You might not have heard of me, but I know you, half-blood.”

Harry thought frantically. Hadn’t he heard something about this woman from Sirius?

“I must thank you for making this so easy, Potter,” she continued. “I really thought it would be harder to get you to accept the Portkey. Of course, I had hoped you would be in the Tournament, which is why I entered your name in the Goblet, but that fool of a Headmaster somehow managed to thwart me. Still, I prevailed in the end. I managed to feed enough Amortentia to your friends that they became obsessed with each other, and left you to your own devices, and to my tender mercies. Pity you’d never drink my ‘special tea’.”

As she disappeared into the dank mausoleum, Harry tried to move, but couldn’t. Then, he heard a whisper in his ear.

“Harry, it’s Snape. I’m here, and I need you to trust me.”

Severus? How, in Merlin’s name did he get here...?

“I’m under a Disillusionment Spell, Harry, which is why you cannot see me. I came with you via Portkey. I know you cannot answer me, so just listen. I’m not going to free you as yet. She needs to think that you really are here all alone. Bellatrix Black is a very dangerous woman.”

Harry would have rolled his eyes if he could.

“I need to know what her plan is before I get us out of here, so play along, but await my instructions.”

Harry tried to relax. At least he wasn’t alone, and of all people to have in such a situation, Severus was probably the best.

Bellatrix returned after a few moments, a heavy-looking cauldron floating behind her. Cradled in her arms was a... what was that? Harry tried to look, but she passed out of his line of vision, and he could only listen.

“Proceed, Bella...”

Whatever she’d been carrying was a person? Harry felt a frisson of fear go down his spine at the sound of that hissing voice he’d heard only in his nightmares. It couldn’t be...

“Yes, Master,” she replied, drawing a small, sharp knife. “I shall restore you!”

Placing the creature carefully into the cauldron, which was now settled onto a slab of stone, she picked up a long bone. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath behind him.

“Bone of his father...” she muttered, putting it into the cauldron. She fumbled for something, then started towards Harry, a maniacal look on her face as she held the knife aloft.

“Harry!” Severus whispered urgently from somewhere behind him, “She’s attempting to bring He Who Must Not Be Named back to life. This is a rare and difficult potion she’s trying to brew, and it depends on your being unwilling. DO NOT RESIST!”

Harry would have screamed if he could have. What did he mean do not resist? It was sort of hard to help it...

“Blood of the enemy, unwillingly given...”

“Not too much, Bella,” came that cold voice from the cauldron. “I know how exuberant you can be. Leave sssomething for me to play with.”

Harry suddenly understood what was happening. Now Snape’s advice made sense, and in that last few seconds before she reached him, he relaxed as best he could. I give this willingly, he thought, over and over, as hard as he could.

She cackled as she nicked his cheek deeply, coating her blade with his blood before pulling away. Harry would have cried out with the pain if he could; instead he held on to the fact that Severus was there and would help him.

She quickly turned away and stirred his blood into the cauldron using the knife.

With her back still to him, Harry couldn’t see what Bella was doing now, but when she swung around, he could see she’d closed her eyes. He watched in horror as, with only a small hiss, she put the blade to her ear and muttered, an obscene look of joy on her face, “Flesh of his servant!”

With a sharp downward movement, she sliced off her own ear, and threw that into the cauldron as well, the knife dropping from her nerveless fingers as she clasped her other hand over her copiously bleeding ear.

“Finite Incantatem,” Severus whispered from behind him, and Harry could suddenly move again.

“Not yet,” Severus warned softly, and Harry obeyed, trying to simulate still being immobilized, even as every instinct told him to run.

A dense cloud rose from the cauldron, and Bellatrix stood transfixed, watching expectantly, her pain apparently forgotten.

Harry could hear someone breathing loudly next to him, could feel Severus’ warm hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed a bit more.

“I can feel it!” the voice from the cauldron said. “I can feel myself changing.... aieeeee!”

The cry of pain and loss took Harry by surprise, but not Severus, who Harry could feel rush by him. With widened eyes, Harry saw the cauldron topple off the stone table on which it had been perched, its contents spilling onto the dusty ground.

“Finite Incantatem!” Bella screamed, evidently realizing that someone was there, and Harry inadvertently stepped back as Severus, now visible, appeared out of mid air.

“Harry! He’s vulnerable now, kill him! Only you can do it!”

Harry took in the mess on the ground, then looked back up at Severus. “Wha...?” he began, but was interrupted by Bella’s enraged cry of, “Crucio!”

Falling to the ground, Harry writhed as the feeling of a thousand white-hot pokers skewering his intestines struck him. His mouth opened in a silent scream until the pain suddenly was cut off. He lay there twitching as the memory of the worst pain imaginable still reverberated through his nervous system.

“Get up, Harry,” Severus said, the urgent note in his voice making Harry look over towards him.

Bella, suspiciously immobile, was standing there, and as he watched, Severus lowered his wand cautiously.

“Harry, you have to kill this creature. Only you can do it. If you don’t, he will probably keep trying to return.”

Harry stood up slowly. “Why do I have to?” he asked. “You’re the fully trained wizard.”

Severus closed his eyes, cursing Albus with all his might. If only the old man had told Harry of what would be required of him...

“It’s your destiny, Harry. I know it’s hard, but you are the only one who can do this.” Severus tried to put all of his persuasive power into his voice.

“Who says?” Harry asked mulishly. “I mean, I know he killed my parents, but I don’t know if I can kill anyone. Why can’t you do it?”

“It will not work if I try it,” Severus said, teeth clenched. What a time for Gryffindor stubbornness to show up. “YOU are the chosen one. This falls on your shoulders, I’m afraid...”

“I don’t...”

“Harry,” Severus interrupted. “You trusted me enough before to take my word about the potion to revive He Who Must Not Be Named, and it worked. Trust me again, please. I will help you, but YOU have to do it, or he will return.”

Harry nodded slowly. This was all true. The bottom line was, he trusted Severus, and would do what he wanted him to do. It was hard, though... “What did this prophecy say, exactly?” Harry asked, reaching for his wand.

Severus opened his mouth to answer, and instead, fell over on to his side, as he was interrupted by a hissed “Stupefy!” Harry looked up to see Bella, her face triumphant, hovering over Severus, the wand in her hand pointing directly at Harry.

“Drop it!” she said, and Harry shook his head.

“Stupid boy. I planned to keep you as my toy, but now I suppose I shall have to kill you. Avada Kedavra!”

Harry watched, horrified as the green light sped towards him. He managed to dive out of the way just in time, hearing Bellatrix’s laughter even as he scrambled for cover, ducking behind a headstone.

“Come out, come out, little boy,” she said in a singsong voice. “Come out or I might hurt your mentor...”

Harry peeked in time to see her point her wand at Severus.

“Crucio!”

Harry gasped as Severus’ back arched and he screamed, his face contorted in a rictus of pain. She repeated the curse over and over, Harry watching in horror, until, unable to stand Severus’ anguished cries, Harry ran out from behind the headstone.

“Stupefy!” he screamed, his wand pointed at her.

Bellatrix toppled, and Harry ran towards Severus. Gathering the crumpled form in his arms, Harry ran anxious hands over him, trying to revive him. Severus was still shaking in the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse, but he had the presence of mind to try to sit up. His mouth was working to try to speak, but he was barely able to form words.

“Please be okay, Severus,” Harry begged as he wiped back lank hair from Severus’ face. “Please...”

Severus stirred and tried to sit up, but Harry held on to him. “Harry, my own... You have to... kill Voldemort. And we might have to... kill her, too. She’s already escaped from Azkaban once...”

Harry had stopped hearing anything beyond Severus’ first few words. “You... you called me ‘your own’,” he choked, blinking at Severus.

Severus closed his eyes. “I... apologize, I hadn’t meant to burden you with...”

Harry shut him up in the best way he could think of at the time, by pressing his lips firmly to Severus’.

Shock followed by heat and desire made Severus forget their circumstances long enough to take control of the kiss and introduce Harry to what he liked. As his tongue was eagerly granted access to and plundered Harry’s sweet mouth, Severus’ pain faded, supplanted by a soul-deep need to possess the young man in his arms.

Harry made a noise low in his throat that spurred Severus on, and instantly, Harry was held securely in strong arms that were clearly unwilling to let him go.

Seconds lasted for what seemed like hours, until Severus regained his awareness of where they were, and he pulled away, searching Harry’s face carefully for any signs of regret. “Bugger. We have no time for this...” he began, breathing deeply.

A dazed and aroused Harry blinked back at him, grateful that Severus seemed to be all right and still a bit disoriented by the powerful, albeit brief kiss they had shared.

“Come, Harry. She won’t stay down long,” Severus said, finally tearing his gaze away from passion-clouded green eyes to check that Bella was still unconscious and on the ground. “She’s incredibly dangerous, and we have got to deal with her...”

Harry nodded, unable to resist cuddling closer as he spoke. “Yeah, I know. Look, I’ll go get her wand, and then we have to take her back so the Ministry can...”

“No.” Severus shook his head. “We have to deal with them both now.”

Exasperated, Harry shook his head. “I have to get you back to Hogwarts. You’re still weak and you need help.”

“I’m fine. Just help me up,” Severus insisted, and Harry compressed his lips, but helped.

As Severus stood up, Harry’s face came in close proximity to his, and it was only with an iron will that Severus didn’t press his lips to Harry’s cheek. As it was, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. At least it appeared that their passion was natural and not Amortentia related, he reminded himself.

“... Incantatem... Bella...” a faint voice whispered. Both Severus and Harry heard it, Severus reaching for his wand, but it was too late. Bellatrix sprang up, and with an inarticulate cry, Disapparated.

“Bugger,” Severus muttered, glaring at the empty space she’d left behind. Pausing, he looked about, remembering who’d freed her.

Harry, in the meantime, was staring at the pitiful creature that was lying on the ground. Voldemort was a bloated, sickly-white thing, far from the fearsome Dark Lord that had claimed his parents’ lives.

He certainly didn’t appear human, and yet he didn’t look like any animal Harry had ever seen. He resembled nothing more than a very deformed albino snake with shortened limbs. It was doubtful that he could have supported himself to walk on such useless appendages.

“Harry,” Severus said from behind him. “Do it now, before she returns.”

Harry shook his head. “I... Gods. It’s just hard to do, you know? He’s so... helpless.”

Severus shook his head. “Not helpless, never helpless,” he said. “He’s killed countless people, including his and your parents and your godfather’s brother. He would kill us both right now if he could. And, I vow to you, Harry, you are the only one who can do it.”

Harry squared his shoulders and bracing himself, faced the spot where the Voldemort creature was still squirming on the ground. He raised his wand, pointing it at what had become of Voldemort.

“Avada Kedavra,” he said softly, closing his eyes as he said it. Not surprisingly, nothing happened.

“Oh for... Harry, you have to mean it,” Severus said exasperatedly from behind him. “Think of all the evil things that this creature has done to you and yours.”

Flushed, Harry began to think of his parents, but before he could act, a crack split the air, and Bellatrix, wand aloft, appeared immediately behind where the creature was. “Master,” she breathed, leaning over to try to scoop him up into her arms.

Quickly refocusing, Harry pointed his wand at her and screamed, “Stupefy!” It should have hit Bellatrix squarely in the chest, but instead, it bounced off an invisible shield. Harry watched impotently as she lifted up the Voldemort creature, cradling it against her chest.

The creature stared at him, its red eyes glowing. “You can’t kill me, boy,” it whispered. “I will alwaysss come back. I am immortal! Bella!”

To Harry’s horror, Bella shifted, handing the creature a wand, which it just managed to grasp. “My form may be weak, but I am easssily a better wizard than you.”

“Look out,” Severus called from behind him, and Harry instinctively ducked.

A red light flew out of the tip of Voldemort’s wand and hit Severus, who collapsed with an agonizing yell.

With an inarticulate cry, Harry tried to get to Severus, only to be pushed back by an invisible force. Looking back to where Bella was standing holding Voldemort, Harry blinked. Where the creature had been the size of an infant before, he appeared to be growing, and was now the size of a child.

“Harry,” Severus gasped. “Do it now. Don’t let him take all my strength to live...”

With a sudden insight, Harry realized what was happening. Severus was weakening before his eyes, and Voldemort was gaining strength. Somehow, he was syphoning off Severus’ life force.

Harry stood, and holding up his wand again pointed it at Voldemort and Bella, who were standing so close.

“Avada Kedavra!” he screamed, and all his rage, his fear, his pain... it all flew out the end of his wand and hit the creature, leaving him drained.

The surprised look on his face was almost comical before he keeled over, lifeless.

Bella, her face still frozen in the obscene look of joy it had worn as Voldemort tortured Severus, crumpled when she realized her master was dead.

“Noooo!” she wailed, dropping to her knees to try to gather the body.

“Stupefy!” Harry cried, swaying from exhaustion. It was enough to contain her, however, and she collapsed soundlessly.

Harry limped over to where Severus was lying, breathing heavily. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Severus sat up and nodded. “The bulk of the energy he stole from me was returned when you banished his spirit from that body,” he said. “In fact, I think I collected a bit extra.”

“Is he...?”

Severus nodded. “As dead as he was before, I suspect,” he said slowly. “But I’m beginning to think that there might be something more we have to do to be truly rid of him...”

Bellatrix stirred, and Harry pointed his wand at her. Severus laid a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. “Silencio!” And with that, Severus relaxed his stance infinitesimally. “Incarcerous!” he then cried, binding her securely for good measure. She glared at them in impotent rage.

“Now you,” Severus instructed, and Harry repeated the spell, causing even more rope to wrap about her.

“How do we get home?” Harry asked.

“The same way we got here. Accio Cup!” Severus cried.

Harry grinned as Severus levitated Bellatrix and gathered him close. He hugged the older man, smiling as Severus seemed to lean into the touch. At least something good had come from all this. Closing his eyes, he let Severus grasp the Cup that would take them all back.

~

They returned to chaos, of course. Appearing in the middle of the confused throngs, Severus quickly called for order, waving Dumbledore and Moody over.

“Potter? What happened? You were supposed to meet me here...” Moody began.

“Do forgive him, Moody. He was quite remiss, what with being kidnapped and almost killed.” Severus’ voice was sharp, and he was careful to keep his arm about Harry as if supporting him.

Moody scowled, but shut up immediately. Dumbledore hid a smile. “Harry? Severus? What happened?” He peered closely at Bella, then stepped forward. “Severus, is that...?”

Severus nodded. “Indeed. Here’s the woman who was supposed to be dead, Albus. She was masquerading as Trelawney all the while. Using Polyjuice.” He glared at Moody as he said the last, smiling vindictively as Moody dropped his eyes and flushed lightly.

“Which means we have find Professor Trelawney and rescue her,” Dumbledore said.

Severus sighed. “Yes, I suppose we do.”

~

The next few days were a whirl. When they found Trelawney, she was happily high on some potion, and didn’t seem too pleased to have been discovered in a small room in the back of her own assigned quarters.

As Madam Pomfrey escorted her from her quarters, she seemed quite confused. Harry wasn’t surprised to hear the news later that the rest of Divination that year would be taught by a substitute professor.

Firenze turned out to be quite a different teacher, and Harry found he was learning quite a lot in the class. He set aside Severus’ star chart, smiling as he wondered what he would say if he knew that Harry had been doing it.

Harry wasn’t sure what was happening on the Severus front. After they returned, Severus became his aloof self once more, and it seemed that every professor watched him very carefully.

The effect of Amortentia on Hermione, Ron and Viktor seemed to fade slightly, but they remained affectionate, with none of them wanting an antidote, even if one had been available. Harry was a bit envious of them that they could be so content with three people in a relationship, although, he supposed, Severus was complicated enough to count for at least two people.

He had another fireside talk with Sirius, and this time he was honest about who he had feelings for. After an initial, very violent, outburst, which ended badly, Harry had despaired ever being on good terms with his godfather again.

Remus proved to be quite helpful, however, somehow talking Sirius into contacting Harry once more, and even getting Sirius to let Harry in on the secrets of his and Remus’ relationship. Harry came away from that conversation with several new ideas to try on Severus.

Not that I’ll ever get near him again, Harry thought pensively, as he stared at Severus across the Great Hall. It had been three weeks since their adventure, and he could still taste Severus on his tongue. Severus, however, seemed to be going about his life without a care in the world, even as Harry ached for him every night.

With a sigh, Harry pushed away from the table. In addition to the shambles that his love life was in, it was getting more difficult to sit by while Ron and Hermione cooed at each other, and at Viktor, every evening. And rumour had it that the Bulgarian was actually contemplating transferring from Durmstrang to Hogwarts. Harry wished them well, but in his heart he envied their openess.

As he walked down the empty hallway, a hand was placed on his back and a smooth voice in his ear said, “Come with me, Potter.”

Thrilling to the touch he’d longed for, Harry allowed himself to be steered in the direction of the dungeons, only stopping once he was inside.

“Why did you wait so lo...?”

Harry’s words were crushed beneath Severus’ plundering mouth as he was hauled into long arms and kissed thoroughly.

A few minutes later, with Harry firmly ensconced in his lap, Severus finally allowed Harry to ask his questions.

“Why did you wait so long?”

Severus his fingers still playing with Harry’s hair as if fascinated with the texture, smiled. “It is the standard period to wait to be sure that the effects of Amortentia have left the system,” he explained.

“But she admitted that I didn’t really take any,” Harry reminded him.

“You will forgive me if I wanted to sure that you were making this decision of your own free will and not under the influence of some potion.”

Harry nodded. He could see why Severus would want to be sure.

“So now what?” he asked.

“The Headmaster has given us dispensation to court, but nothing untoward may happen between us until you are of age.”

“Three years?” Harry exclaimed.

Severus shrugged. “I am already being too forward by letting you sit in my lap right now, but I couldn’t abide the idea of not touching you. If I think this will be a problem, Albus has instructed me to obtain a chaperone. Minerva has already offered.”

Harry grimaced. “Um, no thanks,” he said.

“Indeed, imp,” agreed Severus. “Thus, we shall be the epitome of decorum. Agreed?”

“Yes,” Harry said sullenly. “Although, you’d think they could let us have some fun. We did save the world.”

Severus smirked. “Just think what you’ll be able to do when you have OWLs and NEWTs under your belt,” he murmured. “Now, this is ostensibly a study session, so, what are the thirteen uses of aconite?”

Harry groaned. “I don't want to study, I want to kiss you,” he said.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “For every correct answer you give, you shall receive a kiss,” he said. “Now, you were saying?”

“Since you put it that way, I’m going to do really well in my OWLs,” Harry predicted with a grin, and he was right, but that is another story.

~Fin

Comments

[lilyseyes]

I can't believe I've never read this before! :-D A much better alternative to canon!

The was wonderful, bb!

[alisanne]

*glomps you*
Really? I can't believe you've never read this before, either! I must have written it before I knew you! *smooch*
Thanks, darling!