Invictus Chapter 54/59
NoG to read: 56
“Severus, wake up.”
Shooting upright in bed, Severus, gripping his wand, looked at Albus’s portrait. “What’s wrong?”
“Something’s wrong with Harry,” said Albus, nodding towards the mirror. “He woke up, stumbled over to the sink, washed his face, then sank to his knees. He hasn’t moved since then.”
Shaking away the sleep, Severus said, “I’ll check on him.” Shrinking the portrait, he stuffed it away and laid back in the bed, pretending to be sleeping. When he opened his eyes, he glanced in the mirror.
Harry still sat by the sink, his body curled in on itself. The Dark Lord would want him examined. Severus dressed quickly, then rushed down to the cellar, pausing to walk normally as he headed through the library door. “Is something wrong?”
“I...” Harry stared at the floor, his face pale. “I feel sick.”
Sending the table away, Severus marched to Harry’s side. Kneeling down, he pressed his hand to Harry’s forehead to take his temperature and pulse. Nothing wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary. If Harry had been in pain, he would have said something, and he didn’t look nauseated. Nothing left to do but keep him under observation. “Can you stand?”
Nodding, Harry took Severus’s arm. Although he pulled himself to his feet with his normal strength, he swayed and leant on Severus for support.
Letting Harry do most of the walking himself, Severus led him out of his cage.
His voice soft, almost a whisper, Harry asked, “Do I have my magic? Is it trapped inside of me?”
Why would he ask that? What had happened? Had Tom done something? The potion he’d placed in Harry’s tea should’ve prevented anything from happening. As evenly as he could, he answered, “I believe so. It is impossible to know either way at the moment.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
What did he know? If he knew about the Horcrux, he had to be watched very closely. He might try to take care of it himself.
“Why would I?” asked Severus as casually as he could as he led Harry to the kitchen. “It is a hypothesis, not a known fact, and you’ve surmised the same as I on your own. Do you believe it to be the source of your illness?”
“No. I-” Harry paused, his body tensing slightly. “I don’t know.”
In the kitchen, Severus transformed several of the kitchen chairs into a sofa. Harry sprawled out on it as though the short trip had exhausted him.
“If you do possess your magic,” said Severus as he cooked, “I believe it would be in your best interest to try not to consciously use it unless you are in mortal peril. As no one has ever had their magic contained quite like the Dark Lord has restricted yours, there are many effects I cannot predict. For example, he may be able to draw off your power when you attempt to use your magic in close proximity to him. It is unlikely, but we must consider it.” Don’t listen to anything Tom says.
Harry suddenly jerked to the edge of the sofa, sticking his head out over the side. Hurrying over, Severus gently helped him up and fetched his best antiemetic. His eyes closing, Harry took a few swigs of the bottle. When he tried to hand it back, Severus pressed it into his hands. “Drink more of this should you feel nauseated again.” He headed back to the stove. If Harry was close to vomiting, he needed to make something simple. Knowing that asking more questions would raise Harry’s suspicion, but unable to leave the subject alone, Severus asked, “What made you suspect that your magic is contained within you?”
“I tried to use it,” said Harry. “But I turned it inward this time.”
Harry could’ve seriously damaged himself. “I trust you now know better than to try that again?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, his voice stronger than before. “I won’t.”
Neither said anything more. When Severus had finished the soup, he ladled a bowl and carried it over, conjuring a tray so Harry wouldn’t have to move from the sofa.
Summoning a book on protection spells, he read whilst Harry ate. When Harry had finished, he set the tray on the floor and, before Severus could stand, pressed against Severus’s side, his head resting on Severus’s shoulder.
Harry had never snuggled him outside of sex. Unsure what to do, Severus checked Harry’s temperature and pulse, making sure they remained normal. When Harry gave no indication he intended to move anytime soon, Severus slid his hand down to Harry’s waist and held him.
I’m doing everything I can to save you. Just hold on. It will all be over soon.
~
Harry woke whilst Severus was preparing breakfast.
Severus warned, “Don’t come closer, I’m cooking.”
“That’s cooking?”
“It is far more efficient to produce all meals for the day at the same time than to produce each meal individually,” explained Severus as he cleaned the kitchen. To test how much Harry had recovered, he poured a cup of juice and sent it across the room to Harry. “Juice?”
Harry plucked it out of the air, his movements sure and quick.
Transforming the sofa back into chairs, Severus set their food at the table. Harry took his seat, his head down and his focus on his food. Although he normally ate ravenously, his movements remained subdued, as if using his magic had utterly exhausted him.
When he finished eating, he pushed away his empty dishes, leant back in his chair, crossed his arms, and met Severus’s eyes with firm determination. “I want to know your plan.”
Exactly what he needed.
Harry didn’t let him spin the lie. “I know you don’t think I should hear it, or you’ve got five million ideas and I can’t possibly fit them all in my head, or something else, but this is my life - maybe my death - and I have the right to know what’s going to happen. You think I’m going to fuck it up, but couldn’t I fuck it up more by not knowing? Wasn’t that the biggest problem at Hogwarts? You and Dumbledore always kept these secrets from me, thinking that it made me safe, thinking that it protected me and how many times did I end up in danger anyway? You of all people should know how dangerous it is to be ignorant.”
How Harry had matured since his capture! He was entirely correct of course. Not wanting to reveal how impressed he was, Severus teased, “Potter, I’m delighted to hear you acknowledge your general ineptitude.”
Rather than roll his eyes. Harry jumped to his feet and slammed his hands down on the table. “Fine, then. We’ll follow my plan. Here’s what we're going to do: You’ll get yourself replaced as my guard. You’ll tell Voldemort that you figured out how to remove my soul, but you need to collect some fresh ingredients by hand. We’ll tell the Order to come break me out, I’ll go get the Horcrux while you get the Elder Wand, and then, after I have the Horcrux, I’ll return here alone. I’ll say you told me to come back if they rescued me. We’ll do the ceremony, you’ll get him to possess my body, and then you’ll kill me.”
It was a decent plan, but he had a better one. Motioning for Harry to sit back down, Severus said, “I have a better one. I’ll remove myself, within two days in fact, but you’ll remain here. There is no need for me to obtain the Elder Wand. If it should appear, we’ll try to take it, but we must focus on the Horcruxes. I’ll search for the Diadem in Hogwarts-”
Stubbornly, Harry said, “I’ve been in there. I know-”
“And you think I wouldn’t take a look at a secret location built by Slytherin himself? I’ve worked with the Dark Lord for years, so I know how to better anticipate what traps lie in wait.” Rather, the Order would help him uncover it during the chaos of the battle. If they failed, Kreacher had access to parts of the castle that wizards did not. If they could not access the chamber even with Kreacher, there were ways of destroying it and everything within it. No matter the wards and protections the Dark Lord had designed, fiendfyre would find the Diadem. If he had to burn Hogwarts to the ground - so be it.
Dropping back into the chair, Harry stared at Severus critically and pointed out, “He’ll have someone trailing you and if you go to Hogwarts, he’ll think you are going for the Diadem. He’ll move it, or kill you.”
“He wouldn’t dare move it; not while I’m about.” The Dark Lord had to know that Severus had ways of monitoring Hogwarts. “He needs me for the ceremony.”
“What if he no longer wants to do the ceremony? What if he decides it’s too much trouble to keep me around?”
In the worst case scenario, the Dark Lord would kill Harry before the Diadem had been destroyed but, as long as they didn’t destroy Harry’s body, that wouldn’t matter. “I have the ceremony planned within five days time. He may change his mind in that short time, but it is highly unlikely. If I must, I’ll fight for my life.”
Biting his lip, Harry gazed at Severus worriedly. “If you fight him, he’ll suspect that we are working together, just like what Avery said.”
“Not necessarily.” Severus finished his tea, setting his cup to the side. “Not if I pretend I wish to control you and that is why I fight him.” Most likely, he wouldn’t have to fight and if he did, the Dark Lord would most definitely suspect Harry. He didn’t want to worry Harry though.
Harry didn’t trust the lie. “Would he believe that though?”
Harry had grown too intelligent to be persuaded through simple lies and bluffs. He needed to reveal more of himself and his actual plans, or Harry’s questions wouldn’t cease. “It is very probable. Within the next two days, we’ll begin the preparation for the soul-removal ceremony, which cannot be conducted until all the ingredients are ready. Once a flower we need blooms, I’ll bring you to my lab and we’ll conduct the first ceremony there in order to prevent your death in the second ceremony.”
Bending forward accusatorily, Harry said, “Wait, hold on a second. What’s happening?”
“After I’ll have left here and destroyed the Diadem, I’ll return and begin a soul-removal ceremony.” He wouldn’t track down the Diadem himself - the Dark Lord would be watching him. “During the ceremony, I’ll put you in a state of cardiac arrest, informing him that you must die in order for the soul to be removed. He’ll cast the Killing Curse with the intention of destroying your soul. I’ll restore your 'body' and invite him to try to possess you in order to confirm that your soul no longer resides in your flesh. When he leaves his body, I’ll destroy it. He’ll be unable to remain in your body for a long period of time and will try to escape, but he’ll have no Horcruxes left and no body to return to. In order to ensure that you’ll not die during the ceremony, I’ll give you a potion to take right before the sacrifice begins.”
“And what if he can possess my body?”
The Dark Lord shouldn’t be able to while Harry remained inside, but if it should come to that… Leaning forward, Severus promised, “Then I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“Promise me,” pleaded Harry, “that you’ll kill him. That you’ll do everything you can to destroy every last bit of him. I swear to you, I will do the same.”
Severus didn’t have to meet his strong gaze to know the conviction of his words. “I promise you, he will be destroyed, every single last Horcrux.” Even if it cost Harry his life. “Now-” he stood, unwilling to talk about the subject much longer. “Talk is nothing without action.”
Harry followed him into the practice room. “What will I be doing today?”
“More ward detection training.”
“And wha-” Harry paused just before a ward. As he stumbled backwards, Severus whipped out his wand and attacked with Obscuro. Harry managed to dodge it, but Severus had anticipated his movements, and caught him with the second spell.
“Oi!” yelled Harry. “Take this off me!”
Instead, Severus shot a Stupefy at him. Fluidly, Harry dodged, hurrying towards the practice room. Moving past him, Severus set up an obstacle course, adding every single thing that Harry might encounter in his future training. As an Auror, he’d be up against wizards more clever and inventive than most. Those who lived by the rules often died by the hands of those who refused.
As he darted into the room, Severus hurriedly threw up a ward. Moving too quickly, Harry stumbled back, landing wrong and tumbling to the floor. His left arm hit a trap and, in a panic, he flailed. “Snape!”
To punish him for panicking, Severus cast another trap on his ankle as he walked across the room to stand beside him.
“STOP IT!” yelled Harry, tugging wildly on his bonds. He never handled being restrained very well.
Bending down, Severus stroked his fingers through Harry’s hair and softly said, “Calm down.”
It only made Harry fight harder. “No! Stop it! I hate this!”
His panic made him clumsy and stupid. He could have dodged had he kept his head. “Shh...” He stroked Harry’s cheek. Harry swiped at him, but he moved his hand before Harry could hit.
“Snape, you fucking-”!
“Potter,” said Severus gently but firmly, “if you let your fear control you, you will not be able to concentrate.”
“YOU FUCKING-!”
“Stop.” He pressed Harry’s shoulder to the floor, pinning him. Harry grabbed Severus’s arm, but didn’t try to push him away. Although he had less freedom of movement, he no longer fought. Gently, Severus reminded him, “Relax.”
Harry wouldn’t be tamed that easily. “How can I fucking relax when I can’t see a fucking thing?”
Running a finger along Harry’s ear, Severus asked him, “You can hear, can’t you?”
“Yes,” spat Harry, his heart still racing. “I can hear! I can feel, I can smell, I can taste, but I can’t bloody see!”
“Control your emotions through your body.” Severus placed his hand on Harry’s chest. “Don’t breathe here.” He slid his hand down to rest over Harry’s diaphragm. “Breathe here.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry slowly evened out his breath, his heart slowing.
“In,” Severus instructed him. “1 2 3. Out. 1 2 3. In. 1 2 3...”
Each exhalation released a burst of tension until Harry lay still on the floor, no longer trying to fight. Tension still held his limbs tightly, his heart rate still elevated, but his body calmer than before.
“Now place your right hand over your heart.”
Releasing his grip on Severus’s arm, Harry splayed his fingers over his heart. Pressing his own hand on top of Harry’s, Severus asked him, “Do you feel your heart rate?”
Nodding, Harry answered, “Yes.”
“Now feel it slow. With each exhalation, release tension.”
“Right,” said Harry, the remaining tension slowly draining from him.
Severus lifted his hands and, for a moment, Harry’s muscles coiled again, as if expecting an attack. Then, slowly, he relaxed.
“Count in your head,” Severus reminded him. “The body reacts first to a frightening stimulus and then the mental reaction occurs. Calm your body to calm your mind. Are you relaxed?”
“Yes...”
“Now, I will release you from the webs, but not the blindness. Keep counting.” He gave Harry a minute’s rest before he lifted the traps.
As soon as he’d been freed, Harry jumped to his feet.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” said Harry firmly.
Severus attacked with the next volley, shooting less than Harry had dodged before. Although Harry could clearly feel and anticipate the spells, he performed poorly, his movements jerky and his steps unsure. He ran through a ward. “Concentrate!” Severus reminded him.
Instead, Harry stumbled. “Slow down,” he pleaded.
Harry could do this. He needed to at least try. “Breathe,” Severus reminded him.
Harry didn’t. Instead, he ran haphazardly. “This is impossible!” He dodged into one of the puzzles Severus had built of wards and froze. “Stop! Stop now!”
Sweeping over to him, Severus reminded him, “Calm-”
Whirling around, Harry yelled, “Don’t you-!”
“Potter!” removing the wards, Severus grabbed Harry’s upper arms.
Harry kicked as he jerked his hands, his body moving with such force that Severus fell off balance and landed on Harry. Quickly, he rolled off of him and pulled him up into a sitting position. Placing his hand on Harry’s chest, he admonished him, “You’re out of control. Focus on breathing."
“You put me in a box!” accused Harry as if such an action was a despicable act.
“You let yourself become too panicked to realise you were not completely encased.”
“What do you want me to do now? Fly?” asked Harry snottily as he shoved Severus’s hand away.
Severus hadn’t heard that tone for a while. He couldn’t remember the last time Harry had been this petulant. “If you had ducked and rolled, you would've found yourself clear.”
“Piss off.” Harry rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to know that?”
Something had terribly upset Harry. What? He’d reacted poorly since Severus had cast Obscuro on him. Gently touching Harry’s cheek, Severus returned his sight. “Why do you fear being blind?”
Harry blinked at Severus. “It’s just stupid to train that way since they won’t be shooting that spell.”
Perhaps it was due to the abuse he’d suffered by Severus’s hands whilst under it. Severus had to help him fix it, it was an easy to manipulate weakness that would leave him vulnerable to attack. “The point is to teach you to rely on your other senses. Lie down and close your eyes.”
Harry sighed but stretched out, closing his eyes.
“You breathe too much here,” Severus warned him, his fingers lightly scratching Harry’s chest. When Harry had started to breathe normally again, he said, “Remember, almost every situation has an escape. The important thing is to remain calm enough to search or wait for it. If you allow your fear to overwhelm you, you will never find the point of escape.”
“I faced him before, you know. I can do this. When I’m out there, it’ll be different.”
“You were a child then, without understanding of the force you faced or the full consequences of your actions. You would have to be stupid or emotionless not to feel fear when confronting him and his followers for the last time.” Or to chase down the dark wizards that might hunt him when this war had ended and he had won. Gently pushing aside Harry’s fringe so he could see his full face and scar, Severus sat back and looked at the man before him. He’d always just assumed that Gryffindors were too stupid to feel fear, but maybe they just refused to properly acknowledge and deal with it. Just like with Occlumency, maybe Harry had trouble putting aside his emotions. Severus would need to find another way to help him overcome his fear. What would Harry best respond to? “Fear in the mind is a poison, but fear is not a useless emotion. The physical reactions can cause an adrenaline rush with shortened response time, a dulled sense of pain, and greater strength among other things. What you must do, is learn to focus your fear so that it becomes your ally instead of your weakness.”
Harry furrowed his brow. “I thought I was supposed to calm my body?”
“There are many techniques - everyone is different. You might find it best to hold onto your fear in the midst of combat and dodging, and use the relaxation technique when you are not fighting or escaping. Are you calm?” Severus checked Harry’s pulse. He was.
“Yeah.”
Gently, Severus told him, “I’ll take away your sight and hearing, and then I’ll chain you to the floor before shooting spells at you. I’ll try to panic you and, if I don’t believe you are sufficiently scared, I’ll escalate the situation until you are. This time, instead of trying to fight your fear, embrace it.” Taking Harry’s wrist, he tugged him up. “Stand.”
Opening his eyes, Harry obeyed. He let out a heavy breath.
Severus waited until Harry said, “I’m ready.”
He didn’t look quite ready, but Severus had to trust in him to judge his own state. Placing his hands on Harry’s shoulder, he warned him, “I’ll hear your voice even though you won’t be able to. But I won’t always acknowledge your requests.”
Oddly, the statement calmed Harry and he straightened his back, his jaw firm. “I understand.”
Stepping back from Harry, Severus cast the spells, binding Harry to the floor before taking away his sight and hearing. Harry tensed, but remained calmer than before, his chest rising and falling at a slow, even pace.
It worked. Harry so easily avoided the spells that Severus soon freed him from his chains and set up wards to trap him instead. Constructing an obstacle course, he forced Harry into it, careful not to push too hard as Harry gingerly felt his way around.
When Harry took too long to navigate one corridor, Severus filled it with water to propel him forward. Pressing his hands into the wards as though he could shove them apart, Harry’s breath quickened, his body coiling and curling as he struggled in the small container. In his panic, he completely missed the opening by his feet, his legs kicking, but not exploring.
Just when Severus raised his wand to remove the water, Harry pressed his palms flat against the wards and sparks of magic burst from his fingertips, little strands of wild light that arched and exploded out. Immediately, Severus removed the wards and water. Hurrying to Harry’s side, Severus check his temperature and restored his hearing and vision. Once he was certain Harry hadn’t harmed himself, he ordered, “Don’t ever try to use your magic again.”
For a moment, Harry just panted. Then, in a slightly broken voice, he said, “Look. If you- if you push me, I’m going to . . . react.”
He could be so difficult. Severus stood. “Use your fear, don’t let it use you.”
Sitting up, Harry glared at Severus. “I was using it! What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“You needed to crawl backwards to-”
“That’s bullshit!” Harry leapt to his feet. “I was going to drown.”
“How stupid do you think I am? I would never let you drown.”
“But you wanted me to think that! You said you wanted me to be as terrified as possible. If you want to teach me how to act when I think I’m dying, then I’m going to think I’m dying and react!”
He could’ve seriously hurt himself. If the Dark Lord knew that Harry could still use his magic... “I already warned you not to try to use your magic.”
His eyes narrowing to slits, Harry warned, “I’m not like you. I can’t be like you! Let me try and figure out how to do this as me.”
He had a point. Maybe it was time to try another approach.
Closing his eyes, Harry breathed deeply and said, “I’m ready. Do it again.”
“Very well. Obscuro.” This time, he started by trapping Harry with wards and rapidly shooting spells at him. Harry, although he had a smaller range of movement than before, dodged perfectly. He hated being chained, forced to kneel or lie on the ground, and, most of all, he hated being blind. Still, with each trial, Harry became more adept at masking his fear, his breath evening out and his actions growing less jerky.
What would be the worst that someone could cast on him without actually hurting him? The Sense-Stealing spell. If Harry could hold his own through that, then he could hold his own through anything.
“Lie on the floor.”
Harry stretched out, his black eyes blinking. Even though he couldn’t see, his eyes followed as Severus bent down to kneel by his side. “I’m going to cast one of the most powerful spells I know. If you can maintain your composure through this, you can maintain it through anything. Are you ready?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah.”
Placing his hand on Harry’s chest, Severus cast Immobulus. He couldn’t have Harry accidentally hurting himself. Knowing Harry’s ability to fight off spells, he cast the Sense-Stealing spell, then hurriedly pushed his fingers into Harry’s mouth. For a moment, Harry just laid there, his eyes wide and his heart rate slowly increasing. Then, his heart lashed against his chest, his limbs shivering despite the spell.
“You’re safe,” Severus told him, even though he’d taken Harry’s hearing. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
A jerk of Harry’s foot warned him a split second before Harry ground his jaw, tearing Severus’s skin with his teeth.
“Finite Incantatem!” Severus yanked out his fingers, clearing the blood before popping open a healing capsule.
Harry lay on the floor, his eyes still wide, his entire body shaking. Pulling him into his arms, Severus assured him, “You’re safe.”
Whimpering, Harry collapsed again Severus, his body limp, as if all his strength had left him.
“It’s over,” Severus promised him. “You’re safe.”
“I- I-”
“I know.” Severus stroked Harry’s back. “It’s terrifying to have no bodily control. Most wizards can’t handle it. The key is to focus on what can be controlled.”
“I couldn’t- Anything-”
“Yes, being alone with your thoughts is not a pleasant experience. But you’ve experienced and survived it. If it happens again, you’ll know it’s possible to live beyond it. That you have the will to fight it.”
Harry moaned softly, as if the idea of fighting that again frightened him.
Gently pulling back and tilting Harry’s face up to meet his own, Severus told him, “You have more strength than you know. You’ve survived more than most and you’ve not lost yourself. Not many can do that.”
Although Harry blinked at him uncertainly, the gold lining the brilliant green was a testament to his Gryffindor side. Few had his strength or courage. Severus had no doubt he would agree to another round if Severus allowed it.
Gently, so that Harry would know he didn’t expect it, Severus asked, “Do you want to try again?”
Pulling a face, Harry stated, “I’d rather eat lunch.”
Severus stood, helping Harry to his feet as well. Pulling away, Harry walked on his own to the kitchen, his steps steady and with a slight bounce, as if the thought of food had erased the remains of the fear. When Severus handed him the thawed shrimp to peel, he attacked his task with gusto.
Pretending to focus on adding milk to his alfredo sauce, Severus commented, “You lasted much longer than Avery.”
“How long did he last?”
“He cried within seconds and Apparated straight to his father as soon as I released him.”
Harry laughed. “How do you get out of that spell anyway?”
“Prevent the spell from being cast. There is no defense against it and the victim inevitably loses sanity after a certain amount of time. However, it is tasking to maintain. After it has been cast upon you, your only strategy is to try and hold on as long as possible.”
“How long have you been able to withstand it?”
“It has never been cast on me.” He hated not having control. It would drive him mad.
“Did you invent it?” asked Harry without accusation as he pushed the peeled shrimp across the counter towards Severus.
“Yes,” said Severus simply. To distract Harry, he set the table.
Not easily distracted, Harry asked, “Why?”
Because I wanted others to suffer. “To gather information.” He poured the shrimp into the pan and dumped the finished noodles into a bowl, then dumped the alfredo sauce over the noodles, stirring them both together. He’d already prepared a salad and, grabbing the dressing, he poured it over top, then mixed it.
Casually, Harry asked, “What is the worst thing that you’ve ever done?”
Severus couldn’t help but look at the face of the boy he’d nearly destroyed in a selfish attempt to save him. I nearly killed you. Harry wouldn’t have been able to hide knowing that others died the longer he stayed alive. To deny that was to deny him. Turning back to the food, Severus prepared their plates. How could he begin to answer that without revealing too much? “How can one measure sins? Crimes are even less comparable than acts of devotion and, just as one would not compare the love of a parent to the love of a spouse, the murder of either would be impossible to measure against the other except, perhaps, on the individual level.” In a lighter tone, he added, “Sit. Lunch is ready.”
He floated their dishes to the table and prepared tea whilst Harry took his place.
When he sat down, Harry said, “I know what mine is.”
Severus couldn’t imagine what Harry would say.
Carefully, Harry added sugar and milk to his tea. He stirred it slowly, then set his spoon on the table. “Hermione warned me that I had a ‘saving people thing’ and that Voldemort would use that against me. I didn’t listen to her. I didn’t trust you to help us-”
“You shouldn’t have.”
Harry shook his head. “I didn’t think about Kreacher. What he was like. What he thought of Sirius. I-”
He shouldn’t carry this guilt. Severus sighed. “Potter-”
Harry held up his hand, meeting Severus’s eyes. “I didn’t practise Occlumency. I did.... I did so many things wrong. And I blamed Dumbledore. I blamed Kreacher. I blamed you. I blamed everyone but myself. Even though I was responsible. And yeah, I know what you’ll say, that you can’t control the actions of anyone else. That Sirius was ultimately responsible because he chose to come rescue me.” Harry looked down at his teacup. “But still, I should’ve listened to people who were trying to help me. Instead I was stupid and Sirius died because of me.”
No. Black died because he was a grown man who’d let his pride get the better of him and because he represented the worst of the house of Gryffindor: the fools who ran off to seek glory, oblivious to how their actions affected those around him. Harry had been a child, a boy who needed a mature guardian who would protect him, not get him into danger. Black had wanted a replacement for James. Harry had never been and would never be James.
“Black,” said Severus, trying his best not to spit the name, “was an idiot-”
Harry gave a strange sort of laugh. And, when Severus looked at him oddly for it, he laughed harder, although his laughter had a sharp edge to it that grew the more he laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.
Unsure what to do or say, Severus sat in shocked silence, watching as Harry laughed and cried simultaneously.
When his tears and laughter had ended, Harry hiccuped a few times and gave Severus a small smile. “That was strange,” he said as he reached for his fork. “I know you hate them, my dad and Sirius, because they were such arseholes to you. But isn’t that like me and Malfoy? They can only hurt you if you let them. And they’re dead, so there’s no point in hating them.”
It wasn’t a subject he wanted to talk about with Harry.
After a bit, Harry added, “I’m really sorry about your Pensieve. I shouldn’t have looked in it. You made it very clear that you didn’t want me to look, and I did it anyway.”
“It was foolish of me to leave you alone with it. I thought you had more sense, but obviously not.”
“You know, afterwards, I asked Sirius how my mum could ever stand my dad.”
Severus glanced up at him.
“He said my dad got a lot better in his seventh year, and that my mom didn’t know that he kept hexing you. Is that true?"
“Your mother,” Severus told him, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice, “never saw your father attack me after that incident.”
“But he kept attacking you?”
He didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s none of your business.”
Harry didn’t try to pry more out of him. As soon as they had finished eating, Severus took Harry back to the practice room and ran him hard, only stopping when Harry's legs trembled beneath him.
“They hurt,” said Harry, dropping to his arse.
Hurrying to his side, Severus knelt. “How bad?”
Harry rubbed one of his calves, his brow pricked. “I guess it’s more sore than painful, but it hurts.”
Pulling out a mild analgesic, Severus fed it to Harry, along with a muscle relaxant. Just to be on the safe side, he also pulled out a salve. Hurriedly, he rubbed it into Harry’s legs, then motioned for him to roll over. “Lie down on your stomach.”
Harry flipped over, propping himself up on his elbows as he stretched his legs out behind him. His back and pert arse seemed to glow with the thin layer of sweat that covered his body. Focusing on Harry’s legs instead of his delectable cheeks, Severus chided him, “You need to be more careful. We must not call his attention to us.”
“It didn’t hurt at all until the end.”
“Adrenaline masks pain, and testosterone causes you to overestimate your abilities.”
Harry teased. “Are you going to wank me to get it out of me?”
“Increased sexual contact stimulates testosterone production. Why do you think this is growing so fast?” Severus ran his fingers along the stubble accumulating on Harry’s jaw.
“More sex means more facial hair?”
Severus returned his attention to Harry’s legs. “The body increases testosterone production during periods of heightened sexual behaviour in order to produce greater quantities of sperm, increase strength to defend one’s partner from competitors, and raise the libido to facilitate more frequent copulations.”
“You make sex so . . . boring.”
“Hmph. I don’t believe that uncovering the processes behind a phenomenon decreases one’s appreciation for it. On the contrary, I believe the reverse to be true. Think of potion creation. One would never expect nightshade and hellhound blood - two deadly poisons - to create Develum, which can be used in healing salves amongst other things.”
“Wait a minute. You put two poisons together and get something used to heal people? How does that work?"
“This is why you could never brew properly without my help. A potion is not merely the sum of its ingredients. In addition to the order in which they are added, the stirring pattern, the temperature, how long you allow them to brew . . . ingredients interact with each other to produce effects that are more than the sum of their individual properties. This is true in the Muggle world as well. Think of table salt. It is composed of sodium and chloride. Have you ever seen what happens when you put sodium in water?”
“No.”
“I’ll show you later,” said Severus, although he knew the chances of that were slim. Patting Harry’s thigh, he stood. “Your legs need time to recover. I’ll work on your muscles again after dinner.”
“Can you massage the other parts too?”
Severus guessed what he really meant. “Your penis?”
“I meant my back!” Harry rolled over, bending one knee to display his flaccid cock and heavy balls. With a smoldering look, he purred, “But you can massage that too if you want.”
Bloody hell, he looked like sex personified. Severus’s cock pulsed, demanding to have him, but he needed to do this right. He’d take Harry when Harry really wanted it. Raising a brow to try to match Harry’s look, Severus promised, “Later.”
Harry’s face didn’t change, but his cock jumped, his eyes roaming over Severus’s face.
Smirking at him, Severus marched away to the kitchen. Ignoring Harry as best he could, he pulled out the fish and vegetables, giving the vegetables a wash before he placed them near Harry and handed him a charmed knife.
Rather than take it, Harry stared at it as if he’d forgotten what knives did.
“Take it,” said Severus. “I’ll enchant it so that you can’t be hurt by it.”
Although he’d already charmed it, he added a second layer of protective spells.
“Cut the vegetables into bite-sized chunks,” instructed Severus before he turned back to the haddock. He couldn’t concentrate. Harry stood just beyond his reach, nearly naked and smelling delicious. “It isn’t that hard, Potter. Here.” Sweeping over, he pressed up against Harry’s warm body, savoring the smell of him. Reaching around Harry’s sturdy torso, he curled his finger over the hand that held the knife, guiding the other hand into place.
“Cut like this,” he instructed. “Rock the knife instead of chopping with it. You want to use a steady, rhythmic motion.” He demonstrated. “Isn’t that far more efficient?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, his voice low. “Much more.” He turned around, and bent back towards the counter, showing off the long, angular lines of his torso. In a husky voice, he asked, “What do you want me to do now?”
What didn’t he want Harry to do? With those lips, those hands, that thick cock... Placing his hands on the counter on either side of Harry, Severus bent forward, pressing his groin against Harry’s, his cock full. Remembering how Harry had responded to having his earlobe bit, Severus placed his lips inches from it and whispered, “Now you cut the celery.” Ignoring the heaviness of his cock, he swept to the other side of the kitchen and pretended to busy himself with selecting dishes for the table.
Harry turned back to the counter. Although his knife fell correctly at first, he mangled the onions. Probably on purpose.
“You’re ruining them,” said Severus without any heat as he approached.
A crafty look in his eyes, Harry stepped to the side and motioned for Severus to approach. “Show me how.”
Severus stayed long enough to demonstrate before returning to the other side of the kitchen. He’d only finished mixed the herbs for tea when Harry said, “I’m not sure how small the potatoes should be.”
Although he knew it was just a game, Severus answered, “Bite-sized,” and slid over. Not moving from his spot, Harry pushed the cutting board, knife and potatoes over to Severus.
Although he doubted Harry would really pay attention, Severus instructed him. “Cut the potatoes in half first, then cube them.” As he demonstrated, Harry slid closer and closer, until he stood so close, Severus could nearly feel the heat radiating off of him. Ignoring him as best he could, Severus chopped up a potato then offered the knife to Harry. “Now you try it.”
“Yeah,” said Harry, hiding a grin as he reached away from Severus to grab a bowl. “I’ve got it now.”
Realizing that Harry didn’t intend to give him anything more at that moment, Severus returned to the other side of the kitchen. He hadn’t been there long when Harry swept across the room to the teapot, moving unnecessarily close to Severus as he reached for it. His hand lingered on Severus’s arse.
Severus had never had his arse groped before. Harry was the only person he trusted at his back. Eager to pick up where they’d left off, Severus hurried through the rest of the food preparations. He left the stew to cook on the back burner and finished the fish and chips for their current meal. As he wanted to have as much time as possible with Harry, he worked through his post whilst he ate.
After several minutes of silence, Harry asked, “Must you do that now?”
Glancing up, Severus asked, “Why not? Do you have something better to suggest?”
“We can talk.”
He didn’t have time to talk.
Firmly, Harry said, “If we’re going to be casting an important spell soon, then I should know as much about it as possible. I want to know the details.”
Harry held his gaze too firmly to be put off by cheap distractions. Setting the rest of his post to the side, Severus said, “The spell requires minimal input from you. I’ll give a line for you to repeat, but I’ll do most of the casting. What we’ll be doing in essence, is creating a potion for you to take before the second ceremony.”
“How will it stop me from dying?”
Did Harry know more about the spell than Severus thought? No, he couldn’t. He had to know that the Dark Lord would attempt to kill him.
“Drinking the potion will anchor your soul, causing it to remain in your body for the brief period while your body dies.” Close enough.
Harry frowned, “I thought you were just going to pretend to kill me?”
“As nothing can stop the Killing Curse, you will clinically die. If you do not take this potion we’ll prepare soon, your soul will pass on and there will be no way to revive you.”
“How does that work? And how do you know it will anchor my soul?”
Because it had worked for others before. “It works the same way any bit of magic works: Through a presently unknown mechanism. There is a chance that you will die, but I’m certain that your soul will be preserved.”
The furrow of his brow not lessening, Harry asked, “And if I don’t take this second potion, then I’ll die for sure? No way that I’ll survive?”
Had he misjudged what Harry wanted? Concentrating on Harry’s eyes, Severus said, “You assured me that wouldn’t be a problem. Have you changed your mind?"
Harry waved his hand dismissively. “No, of course not. Earlier you said that souls were nearly impossible to separate from the body. How can you be sure that my body will die and my soul won’t? What if he doesn’t try to possess my body? What if he cancels the ceremony?”
The Dark Lord wouldn’t try to possess Harry’s body and he wouldn’t want Harry to live - Harry remained too much of a danger to his Horcruxes. If he decided not to remove the Horcrux from Harry, he’d kill him instead. What caused all these questions and doubts? “Why do you think I have spent these months training you in dodging and aiming? If all else fails, you will snatch a wand and cast the Killing Curse upon him.”
“I can’t cast with these!” Harry motioned toward his cuffs.
“If you reveal your intention to fight, there will be Dark Magic cast towards you. Right before the second ceremony, you will drink the potion. The Dark Lord will give you a separate potion that will kill your body. There is a chance that the first ceremony won’t work,” If I die first “and you’ll die at this point. Most likely you’ll remain unconscious for a brief period of time while the Dark Lord attempts to de-soul you. The potion he’ll feed you to kill your body will wear off quickly. When you wake, you should find the Dark Lord dead. If not, you must concentrate on removing the cuffs, obtaining a wand and killing him yourself. Understood?”
“Earlier you told me not to try to get a wand because I wouldn’t know if it was compatible with me or not.”
He couldn’t remember half of the lies he’d told Harry. “Ideally, you will cast as infrequently as possible. Yes, using a wand not your own will affect your magic. However....” All one needed to cast the Cruciatus was hate. “I trust you have the hate in you necessary to destroy the Dark Lord, even with the wand of another.”
Coolly, Harry said, “That won’t be a problem.”
“Eat, and there may be time for more training after dinner.”
Chapter 55
“Severus, wake up.”
Shooting upright in bed, Severus, gripping his wand, looked at Albus’s portrait. “What’s wrong?”
“Something’s wrong with Harry,” said Albus, nodding towards the mirror. “He woke up, stumbled over to the sink, washed his face, then sank to his knees. He hasn’t moved since then.”
Shaking away the sleep, Severus said, “I’ll check on him.” Shrinking the portrait, he stuffed it away and laid back in the bed, pretending to be sleeping. When he opened his eyes, he glanced in the mirror.
Harry still sat by the sink, his body curled in on itself. The Dark Lord would want him examined. Severus dressed quickly, then rushed down to the cellar, pausing to walk normally as he headed through the library door. “Is something wrong?”
“I...” Harry stared at the floor, his face pale. “I feel sick.”
Sending the table away, Severus marched to Harry’s side. Kneeling down, he pressed his hand to Harry’s forehead to take his temperature and pulse. Nothing wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary. If Harry had been in pain, he would have said something, and he didn’t look nauseated. Nothing left to do but keep him under observation. “Can you stand?”
Nodding, Harry took Severus’s arm. Although he pulled himself to his feet with his normal strength, he swayed and leant on Severus for support.
Letting Harry do most of the walking himself, Severus led him out of his cage.
His voice soft, almost a whisper, Harry asked, “Do I have my magic? Is it trapped inside of me?”
Why would he ask that? What had happened? Had Tom done something? The potion he’d placed in Harry’s tea should’ve prevented anything from happening. As evenly as he could, he answered, “I believe so. It is impossible to know either way at the moment.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
What did he know? If he knew about the Horcrux, he had to be watched very closely. He might try to take care of it himself.
“Why would I?” asked Severus as casually as he could as he led Harry to the kitchen. “It is a hypothesis, not a known fact, and you’ve surmised the same as I on your own. Do you believe it to be the source of your illness?”
“No. I-” Harry paused, his body tensing slightly. “I don’t know.”
In the kitchen, Severus transformed several of the kitchen chairs into a sofa. Harry sprawled out on it as though the short trip had exhausted him.
“If you do possess your magic,” said Severus as he cooked, “I believe it would be in your best interest to try not to consciously use it unless you are in mortal peril. As no one has ever had their magic contained quite like the Dark Lord has restricted yours, there are many effects I cannot predict. For example, he may be able to draw off your power when you attempt to use your magic in close proximity to him. It is unlikely, but we must consider it.” Don’t listen to anything Tom says.
Harry suddenly jerked to the edge of the sofa, sticking his head out over the side. Hurrying over, Severus gently helped him up and fetched his best antiemetic. His eyes closing, Harry took a few swigs of the bottle. When he tried to hand it back, Severus pressed it into his hands. “Drink more of this should you feel nauseated again.” He headed back to the stove. If Harry was close to vomiting, he needed to make something simple. Knowing that asking more questions would raise Harry’s suspicion, but unable to leave the subject alone, Severus asked, “What made you suspect that your magic is contained within you?”
“I tried to use it,” said Harry. “But I turned it inward this time.”
Harry could’ve seriously damaged himself. “I trust you now know better than to try that again?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, his voice stronger than before. “I won’t.”
Neither said anything more. When Severus had finished the soup, he ladled a bowl and carried it over, conjuring a tray so Harry wouldn’t have to move from the sofa.
Summoning a book on protection spells, he read whilst Harry ate. When Harry had finished, he set the tray on the floor and, before Severus could stand, pressed against Severus’s side, his head resting on Severus’s shoulder.
Harry had never snuggled him outside of sex. Unsure what to do, Severus checked Harry’s temperature and pulse, making sure they remained normal. When Harry gave no indication he intended to move anytime soon, Severus slid his hand down to Harry’s waist and held him.
I’m doing everything I can to save you. Just hold on. It will all be over soon.
~
Harry woke whilst Severus was preparing breakfast.
Severus warned, “Don’t come closer, I’m cooking.”
“That’s cooking?”
“It is far more efficient to produce all meals for the day at the same time than to produce each meal individually,” explained Severus as he cleaned the kitchen. To test how much Harry had recovered, he poured a cup of juice and sent it across the room to Harry. “Juice?”
Harry plucked it out of the air, his movements sure and quick.
Transforming the sofa back into chairs, Severus set their food at the table. Harry took his seat, his head down and his focus on his food. Although he normally ate ravenously, his movements remained subdued, as if using his magic had utterly exhausted him.
When he finished eating, he pushed away his empty dishes, leant back in his chair, crossed his arms, and met Severus’s eyes with firm determination. “I want to know your plan.”
Exactly what he needed.
Harry didn’t let him spin the lie. “I know you don’t think I should hear it, or you’ve got five million ideas and I can’t possibly fit them all in my head, or something else, but this is my life - maybe my death - and I have the right to know what’s going to happen. You think I’m going to fuck it up, but couldn’t I fuck it up more by not knowing? Wasn’t that the biggest problem at Hogwarts? You and Dumbledore always kept these secrets from me, thinking that it made me safe, thinking that it protected me and how many times did I end up in danger anyway? You of all people should know how dangerous it is to be ignorant.”
How Harry had matured since his capture! He was entirely correct of course. Not wanting to reveal how impressed he was, Severus teased, “Potter, I’m delighted to hear you acknowledge your general ineptitude.”
Rather than roll his eyes. Harry jumped to his feet and slammed his hands down on the table. “Fine, then. We’ll follow my plan. Here’s what we're going to do: You’ll get yourself replaced as my guard. You’ll tell Voldemort that you figured out how to remove my soul, but you need to collect some fresh ingredients by hand. We’ll tell the Order to come break me out, I’ll go get the Horcrux while you get the Elder Wand, and then, after I have the Horcrux, I’ll return here alone. I’ll say you told me to come back if they rescued me. We’ll do the ceremony, you’ll get him to possess my body, and then you’ll kill me.”
It was a decent plan, but he had a better one. Motioning for Harry to sit back down, Severus said, “I have a better one. I’ll remove myself, within two days in fact, but you’ll remain here. There is no need for me to obtain the Elder Wand. If it should appear, we’ll try to take it, but we must focus on the Horcruxes. I’ll search for the Diadem in Hogwarts-”
Stubbornly, Harry said, “I’ve been in there. I know-”
“And you think I wouldn’t take a look at a secret location built by Slytherin himself? I’ve worked with the Dark Lord for years, so I know how to better anticipate what traps lie in wait.” Rather, the Order would help him uncover it during the chaos of the battle. If they failed, Kreacher had access to parts of the castle that wizards did not. If they could not access the chamber even with Kreacher, there were ways of destroying it and everything within it. No matter the wards and protections the Dark Lord had designed, fiendfyre would find the Diadem. If he had to burn Hogwarts to the ground - so be it.
Dropping back into the chair, Harry stared at Severus critically and pointed out, “He’ll have someone trailing you and if you go to Hogwarts, he’ll think you are going for the Diadem. He’ll move it, or kill you.”
“He wouldn’t dare move it; not while I’m about.” The Dark Lord had to know that Severus had ways of monitoring Hogwarts. “He needs me for the ceremony.”
“What if he no longer wants to do the ceremony? What if he decides it’s too much trouble to keep me around?”
In the worst case scenario, the Dark Lord would kill Harry before the Diadem had been destroyed but, as long as they didn’t destroy Harry’s body, that wouldn’t matter. “I have the ceremony planned within five days time. He may change his mind in that short time, but it is highly unlikely. If I must, I’ll fight for my life.”
Biting his lip, Harry gazed at Severus worriedly. “If you fight him, he’ll suspect that we are working together, just like what Avery said.”
“Not necessarily.” Severus finished his tea, setting his cup to the side. “Not if I pretend I wish to control you and that is why I fight him.” Most likely, he wouldn’t have to fight and if he did, the Dark Lord would most definitely suspect Harry. He didn’t want to worry Harry though.
Harry didn’t trust the lie. “Would he believe that though?”
Harry had grown too intelligent to be persuaded through simple lies and bluffs. He needed to reveal more of himself and his actual plans, or Harry’s questions wouldn’t cease. “It is very probable. Within the next two days, we’ll begin the preparation for the soul-removal ceremony, which cannot be conducted until all the ingredients are ready. Once a flower we need blooms, I’ll bring you to my lab and we’ll conduct the first ceremony there in order to prevent your death in the second ceremony.”
Bending forward accusatorily, Harry said, “Wait, hold on a second. What’s happening?”
“After I’ll have left here and destroyed the Diadem, I’ll return and begin a soul-removal ceremony.” He wouldn’t track down the Diadem himself - the Dark Lord would be watching him. “During the ceremony, I’ll put you in a state of cardiac arrest, informing him that you must die in order for the soul to be removed. He’ll cast the Killing Curse with the intention of destroying your soul. I’ll restore your 'body' and invite him to try to possess you in order to confirm that your soul no longer resides in your flesh. When he leaves his body, I’ll destroy it. He’ll be unable to remain in your body for a long period of time and will try to escape, but he’ll have no Horcruxes left and no body to return to. In order to ensure that you’ll not die during the ceremony, I’ll give you a potion to take right before the sacrifice begins.”
“And what if he can possess my body?”
The Dark Lord shouldn’t be able to while Harry remained inside, but if it should come to that… Leaning forward, Severus promised, “Then I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“Promise me,” pleaded Harry, “that you’ll kill him. That you’ll do everything you can to destroy every last bit of him. I swear to you, I will do the same.”
Severus didn’t have to meet his strong gaze to know the conviction of his words. “I promise you, he will be destroyed, every single last Horcrux.” Even if it cost Harry his life. “Now-” he stood, unwilling to talk about the subject much longer. “Talk is nothing without action.”
Harry followed him into the practice room. “What will I be doing today?”
“More ward detection training.”
“And wha-” Harry paused just before a ward. As he stumbled backwards, Severus whipped out his wand and attacked with Obscuro. Harry managed to dodge it, but Severus had anticipated his movements, and caught him with the second spell.
“Oi!” yelled Harry. “Take this off me!”
Instead, Severus shot a Stupefy at him. Fluidly, Harry dodged, hurrying towards the practice room. Moving past him, Severus set up an obstacle course, adding every single thing that Harry might encounter in his future training. As an Auror, he’d be up against wizards more clever and inventive than most. Those who lived by the rules often died by the hands of those who refused.
As he darted into the room, Severus hurriedly threw up a ward. Moving too quickly, Harry stumbled back, landing wrong and tumbling to the floor. His left arm hit a trap and, in a panic, he flailed. “Snape!”
To punish him for panicking, Severus cast another trap on his ankle as he walked across the room to stand beside him.
“STOP IT!” yelled Harry, tugging wildly on his bonds. He never handled being restrained very well.
Bending down, Severus stroked his fingers through Harry’s hair and softly said, “Calm down.”
It only made Harry fight harder. “No! Stop it! I hate this!”
His panic made him clumsy and stupid. He could have dodged had he kept his head. “Shh...” He stroked Harry’s cheek. Harry swiped at him, but he moved his hand before Harry could hit.
“Snape, you fucking-”!
“Potter,” said Severus gently but firmly, “if you let your fear control you, you will not be able to concentrate.”
“YOU FUCKING-!”
“Stop.” He pressed Harry’s shoulder to the floor, pinning him. Harry grabbed Severus’s arm, but didn’t try to push him away. Although he had less freedom of movement, he no longer fought. Gently, Severus reminded him, “Relax.”
Harry wouldn’t be tamed that easily. “How can I fucking relax when I can’t see a fucking thing?”
Running a finger along Harry’s ear, Severus asked him, “You can hear, can’t you?”
“Yes,” spat Harry, his heart still racing. “I can hear! I can feel, I can smell, I can taste, but I can’t bloody see!”
“Control your emotions through your body.” Severus placed his hand on Harry’s chest. “Don’t breathe here.” He slid his hand down to rest over Harry’s diaphragm. “Breathe here.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry slowly evened out his breath, his heart slowing.
“In,” Severus instructed him. “1 2 3. Out. 1 2 3. In. 1 2 3...”
Each exhalation released a burst of tension until Harry lay still on the floor, no longer trying to fight. Tension still held his limbs tightly, his heart rate still elevated, but his body calmer than before.
“Now place your right hand over your heart.”
Releasing his grip on Severus’s arm, Harry splayed his fingers over his heart. Pressing his own hand on top of Harry’s, Severus asked him, “Do you feel your heart rate?”
Nodding, Harry answered, “Yes.”
“Now feel it slow. With each exhalation, release tension.”
“Right,” said Harry, the remaining tension slowly draining from him.
Severus lifted his hands and, for a moment, Harry’s muscles coiled again, as if expecting an attack. Then, slowly, he relaxed.
“Count in your head,” Severus reminded him. “The body reacts first to a frightening stimulus and then the mental reaction occurs. Calm your body to calm your mind. Are you relaxed?”
“Yes...”
“Now, I will release you from the webs, but not the blindness. Keep counting.” He gave Harry a minute’s rest before he lifted the traps.
As soon as he’d been freed, Harry jumped to his feet.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” said Harry firmly.
Severus attacked with the next volley, shooting less than Harry had dodged before. Although Harry could clearly feel and anticipate the spells, he performed poorly, his movements jerky and his steps unsure. He ran through a ward. “Concentrate!” Severus reminded him.
Instead, Harry stumbled. “Slow down,” he pleaded.
Harry could do this. He needed to at least try. “Breathe,” Severus reminded him.
Harry didn’t. Instead, he ran haphazardly. “This is impossible!” He dodged into one of the puzzles Severus had built of wards and froze. “Stop! Stop now!”
Sweeping over to him, Severus reminded him, “Calm-”
Whirling around, Harry yelled, “Don’t you-!”
“Potter!” removing the wards, Severus grabbed Harry’s upper arms.
Harry kicked as he jerked his hands, his body moving with such force that Severus fell off balance and landed on Harry. Quickly, he rolled off of him and pulled him up into a sitting position. Placing his hand on Harry’s chest, he admonished him, “You’re out of control. Focus on breathing."
“You put me in a box!” accused Harry as if such an action was a despicable act.
“You let yourself become too panicked to realise you were not completely encased.”
“What do you want me to do now? Fly?” asked Harry snottily as he shoved Severus’s hand away.
Severus hadn’t heard that tone for a while. He couldn’t remember the last time Harry had been this petulant. “If you had ducked and rolled, you would've found yourself clear.”
“Piss off.” Harry rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to know that?”
Something had terribly upset Harry. What? He’d reacted poorly since Severus had cast Obscuro on him. Gently touching Harry’s cheek, Severus returned his sight. “Why do you fear being blind?”
Harry blinked at Severus. “It’s just stupid to train that way since they won’t be shooting that spell.”
Perhaps it was due to the abuse he’d suffered by Severus’s hands whilst under it. Severus had to help him fix it, it was an easy to manipulate weakness that would leave him vulnerable to attack. “The point is to teach you to rely on your other senses. Lie down and close your eyes.”
Harry sighed but stretched out, closing his eyes.
“You breathe too much here,” Severus warned him, his fingers lightly scratching Harry’s chest. When Harry had started to breathe normally again, he said, “Remember, almost every situation has an escape. The important thing is to remain calm enough to search or wait for it. If you allow your fear to overwhelm you, you will never find the point of escape.”
“I faced him before, you know. I can do this. When I’m out there, it’ll be different.”
“You were a child then, without understanding of the force you faced or the full consequences of your actions. You would have to be stupid or emotionless not to feel fear when confronting him and his followers for the last time.” Or to chase down the dark wizards that might hunt him when this war had ended and he had won. Gently pushing aside Harry’s fringe so he could see his full face and scar, Severus sat back and looked at the man before him. He’d always just assumed that Gryffindors were too stupid to feel fear, but maybe they just refused to properly acknowledge and deal with it. Just like with Occlumency, maybe Harry had trouble putting aside his emotions. Severus would need to find another way to help him overcome his fear. What would Harry best respond to? “Fear in the mind is a poison, but fear is not a useless emotion. The physical reactions can cause an adrenaline rush with shortened response time, a dulled sense of pain, and greater strength among other things. What you must do, is learn to focus your fear so that it becomes your ally instead of your weakness.”
Harry furrowed his brow. “I thought I was supposed to calm my body?”
“There are many techniques - everyone is different. You might find it best to hold onto your fear in the midst of combat and dodging, and use the relaxation technique when you are not fighting or escaping. Are you calm?” Severus checked Harry’s pulse. He was.
“Yeah.”
Gently, Severus told him, “I’ll take away your sight and hearing, and then I’ll chain you to the floor before shooting spells at you. I’ll try to panic you and, if I don’t believe you are sufficiently scared, I’ll escalate the situation until you are. This time, instead of trying to fight your fear, embrace it.” Taking Harry’s wrist, he tugged him up. “Stand.”
Opening his eyes, Harry obeyed. He let out a heavy breath.
Severus waited until Harry said, “I’m ready.”
He didn’t look quite ready, but Severus had to trust in him to judge his own state. Placing his hands on Harry’s shoulder, he warned him, “I’ll hear your voice even though you won’t be able to. But I won’t always acknowledge your requests.”
Oddly, the statement calmed Harry and he straightened his back, his jaw firm. “I understand.”
Stepping back from Harry, Severus cast the spells, binding Harry to the floor before taking away his sight and hearing. Harry tensed, but remained calmer than before, his chest rising and falling at a slow, even pace.
It worked. Harry so easily avoided the spells that Severus soon freed him from his chains and set up wards to trap him instead. Constructing an obstacle course, he forced Harry into it, careful not to push too hard as Harry gingerly felt his way around.
When Harry took too long to navigate one corridor, Severus filled it with water to propel him forward. Pressing his hands into the wards as though he could shove them apart, Harry’s breath quickened, his body coiling and curling as he struggled in the small container. In his panic, he completely missed the opening by his feet, his legs kicking, but not exploring.
Just when Severus raised his wand to remove the water, Harry pressed his palms flat against the wards and sparks of magic burst from his fingertips, little strands of wild light that arched and exploded out. Immediately, Severus removed the wards and water. Hurrying to Harry’s side, Severus check his temperature and restored his hearing and vision. Once he was certain Harry hadn’t harmed himself, he ordered, “Don’t ever try to use your magic again.”
For a moment, Harry just panted. Then, in a slightly broken voice, he said, “Look. If you- if you push me, I’m going to . . . react.”
He could be so difficult. Severus stood. “Use your fear, don’t let it use you.”
Sitting up, Harry glared at Severus. “I was using it! What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“You needed to crawl backwards to-”
“That’s bullshit!” Harry leapt to his feet. “I was going to drown.”
“How stupid do you think I am? I would never let you drown.”
“But you wanted me to think that! You said you wanted me to be as terrified as possible. If you want to teach me how to act when I think I’m dying, then I’m going to think I’m dying and react!”
He could’ve seriously hurt himself. If the Dark Lord knew that Harry could still use his magic... “I already warned you not to try to use your magic.”
His eyes narrowing to slits, Harry warned, “I’m not like you. I can’t be like you! Let me try and figure out how to do this as me.”
He had a point. Maybe it was time to try another approach.
Closing his eyes, Harry breathed deeply and said, “I’m ready. Do it again.”
“Very well. Obscuro.” This time, he started by trapping Harry with wards and rapidly shooting spells at him. Harry, although he had a smaller range of movement than before, dodged perfectly. He hated being chained, forced to kneel or lie on the ground, and, most of all, he hated being blind. Still, with each trial, Harry became more adept at masking his fear, his breath evening out and his actions growing less jerky.
What would be the worst that someone could cast on him without actually hurting him? The Sense-Stealing spell. If Harry could hold his own through that, then he could hold his own through anything.
“Lie on the floor.”
Harry stretched out, his black eyes blinking. Even though he couldn’t see, his eyes followed as Severus bent down to kneel by his side. “I’m going to cast one of the most powerful spells I know. If you can maintain your composure through this, you can maintain it through anything. Are you ready?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah.”
Placing his hand on Harry’s chest, Severus cast Immobulus. He couldn’t have Harry accidentally hurting himself. Knowing Harry’s ability to fight off spells, he cast the Sense-Stealing spell, then hurriedly pushed his fingers into Harry’s mouth. For a moment, Harry just laid there, his eyes wide and his heart rate slowly increasing. Then, his heart lashed against his chest, his limbs shivering despite the spell.
“You’re safe,” Severus told him, even though he’d taken Harry’s hearing. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
A jerk of Harry’s foot warned him a split second before Harry ground his jaw, tearing Severus’s skin with his teeth.
“Finite Incantatem!” Severus yanked out his fingers, clearing the blood before popping open a healing capsule.
Harry lay on the floor, his eyes still wide, his entire body shaking. Pulling him into his arms, Severus assured him, “You’re safe.”
Whimpering, Harry collapsed again Severus, his body limp, as if all his strength had left him.
“It’s over,” Severus promised him. “You’re safe.”
“I- I-”
“I know.” Severus stroked Harry’s back. “It’s terrifying to have no bodily control. Most wizards can’t handle it. The key is to focus on what can be controlled.”
“I couldn’t- Anything-”
“Yes, being alone with your thoughts is not a pleasant experience. But you’ve experienced and survived it. If it happens again, you’ll know it’s possible to live beyond it. That you have the will to fight it.”
Harry moaned softly, as if the idea of fighting that again frightened him.
Gently pulling back and tilting Harry’s face up to meet his own, Severus told him, “You have more strength than you know. You’ve survived more than most and you’ve not lost yourself. Not many can do that.”
Although Harry blinked at him uncertainly, the gold lining the brilliant green was a testament to his Gryffindor side. Few had his strength or courage. Severus had no doubt he would agree to another round if Severus allowed it.
Gently, so that Harry would know he didn’t expect it, Severus asked, “Do you want to try again?”
Pulling a face, Harry stated, “I’d rather eat lunch.”
Severus stood, helping Harry to his feet as well. Pulling away, Harry walked on his own to the kitchen, his steps steady and with a slight bounce, as if the thought of food had erased the remains of the fear. When Severus handed him the thawed shrimp to peel, he attacked his task with gusto.
Pretending to focus on adding milk to his alfredo sauce, Severus commented, “You lasted much longer than Avery.”
“How long did he last?”
“He cried within seconds and Apparated straight to his father as soon as I released him.”
Harry laughed. “How do you get out of that spell anyway?”
“Prevent the spell from being cast. There is no defense against it and the victim inevitably loses sanity after a certain amount of time. However, it is tasking to maintain. After it has been cast upon you, your only strategy is to try and hold on as long as possible.”
“How long have you been able to withstand it?”
“It has never been cast on me.” He hated not having control. It would drive him mad.
“Did you invent it?” asked Harry without accusation as he pushed the peeled shrimp across the counter towards Severus.
“Yes,” said Severus simply. To distract Harry, he set the table.
Not easily distracted, Harry asked, “Why?”
Because I wanted others to suffer. “To gather information.” He poured the shrimp into the pan and dumped the finished noodles into a bowl, then dumped the alfredo sauce over the noodles, stirring them both together. He’d already prepared a salad and, grabbing the dressing, he poured it over top, then mixed it.
Casually, Harry asked, “What is the worst thing that you’ve ever done?”
Severus couldn’t help but look at the face of the boy he’d nearly destroyed in a selfish attempt to save him. I nearly killed you. Harry wouldn’t have been able to hide knowing that others died the longer he stayed alive. To deny that was to deny him. Turning back to the food, Severus prepared their plates. How could he begin to answer that without revealing too much? “How can one measure sins? Crimes are even less comparable than acts of devotion and, just as one would not compare the love of a parent to the love of a spouse, the murder of either would be impossible to measure against the other except, perhaps, on the individual level.” In a lighter tone, he added, “Sit. Lunch is ready.”
He floated their dishes to the table and prepared tea whilst Harry took his place.
When he sat down, Harry said, “I know what mine is.”
Severus couldn’t imagine what Harry would say.
Carefully, Harry added sugar and milk to his tea. He stirred it slowly, then set his spoon on the table. “Hermione warned me that I had a ‘saving people thing’ and that Voldemort would use that against me. I didn’t listen to her. I didn’t trust you to help us-”
“You shouldn’t have.”
Harry shook his head. “I didn’t think about Kreacher. What he was like. What he thought of Sirius. I-”
He shouldn’t carry this guilt. Severus sighed. “Potter-”
Harry held up his hand, meeting Severus’s eyes. “I didn’t practise Occlumency. I did.... I did so many things wrong. And I blamed Dumbledore. I blamed Kreacher. I blamed you. I blamed everyone but myself. Even though I was responsible. And yeah, I know what you’ll say, that you can’t control the actions of anyone else. That Sirius was ultimately responsible because he chose to come rescue me.” Harry looked down at his teacup. “But still, I should’ve listened to people who were trying to help me. Instead I was stupid and Sirius died because of me.”
No. Black died because he was a grown man who’d let his pride get the better of him and because he represented the worst of the house of Gryffindor: the fools who ran off to seek glory, oblivious to how their actions affected those around him. Harry had been a child, a boy who needed a mature guardian who would protect him, not get him into danger. Black had wanted a replacement for James. Harry had never been and would never be James.
“Black,” said Severus, trying his best not to spit the name, “was an idiot-”
Harry gave a strange sort of laugh. And, when Severus looked at him oddly for it, he laughed harder, although his laughter had a sharp edge to it that grew the more he laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.
Unsure what to do or say, Severus sat in shocked silence, watching as Harry laughed and cried simultaneously.
When his tears and laughter had ended, Harry hiccuped a few times and gave Severus a small smile. “That was strange,” he said as he reached for his fork. “I know you hate them, my dad and Sirius, because they were such arseholes to you. But isn’t that like me and Malfoy? They can only hurt you if you let them. And they’re dead, so there’s no point in hating them.”
It wasn’t a subject he wanted to talk about with Harry.
After a bit, Harry added, “I’m really sorry about your Pensieve. I shouldn’t have looked in it. You made it very clear that you didn’t want me to look, and I did it anyway.”
“It was foolish of me to leave you alone with it. I thought you had more sense, but obviously not.”
“You know, afterwards, I asked Sirius how my mum could ever stand my dad.”
Severus glanced up at him.
“He said my dad got a lot better in his seventh year, and that my mom didn’t know that he kept hexing you. Is that true?"
“Your mother,” Severus told him, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice, “never saw your father attack me after that incident.”
“But he kept attacking you?”
He didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s none of your business.”
Harry didn’t try to pry more out of him. As soon as they had finished eating, Severus took Harry back to the practice room and ran him hard, only stopping when Harry's legs trembled beneath him.
“They hurt,” said Harry, dropping to his arse.
Hurrying to his side, Severus knelt. “How bad?”
Harry rubbed one of his calves, his brow pricked. “I guess it’s more sore than painful, but it hurts.”
Pulling out a mild analgesic, Severus fed it to Harry, along with a muscle relaxant. Just to be on the safe side, he also pulled out a salve. Hurriedly, he rubbed it into Harry’s legs, then motioned for him to roll over. “Lie down on your stomach.”
Harry flipped over, propping himself up on his elbows as he stretched his legs out behind him. His back and pert arse seemed to glow with the thin layer of sweat that covered his body. Focusing on Harry’s legs instead of his delectable cheeks, Severus chided him, “You need to be more careful. We must not call his attention to us.”
“It didn’t hurt at all until the end.”
“Adrenaline masks pain, and testosterone causes you to overestimate your abilities.”
Harry teased. “Are you going to wank me to get it out of me?”
“Increased sexual contact stimulates testosterone production. Why do you think this is growing so fast?” Severus ran his fingers along the stubble accumulating on Harry’s jaw.
“More sex means more facial hair?”
Severus returned his attention to Harry’s legs. “The body increases testosterone production during periods of heightened sexual behaviour in order to produce greater quantities of sperm, increase strength to defend one’s partner from competitors, and raise the libido to facilitate more frequent copulations.”
“You make sex so . . . boring.”
“Hmph. I don’t believe that uncovering the processes behind a phenomenon decreases one’s appreciation for it. On the contrary, I believe the reverse to be true. Think of potion creation. One would never expect nightshade and hellhound blood - two deadly poisons - to create Develum, which can be used in healing salves amongst other things.”
“Wait a minute. You put two poisons together and get something used to heal people? How does that work?"
“This is why you could never brew properly without my help. A potion is not merely the sum of its ingredients. In addition to the order in which they are added, the stirring pattern, the temperature, how long you allow them to brew . . . ingredients interact with each other to produce effects that are more than the sum of their individual properties. This is true in the Muggle world as well. Think of table salt. It is composed of sodium and chloride. Have you ever seen what happens when you put sodium in water?”
“No.”
“I’ll show you later,” said Severus, although he knew the chances of that were slim. Patting Harry’s thigh, he stood. “Your legs need time to recover. I’ll work on your muscles again after dinner.”
“Can you massage the other parts too?”
Severus guessed what he really meant. “Your penis?”
“I meant my back!” Harry rolled over, bending one knee to display his flaccid cock and heavy balls. With a smoldering look, he purred, “But you can massage that too if you want.”
Bloody hell, he looked like sex personified. Severus’s cock pulsed, demanding to have him, but he needed to do this right. He’d take Harry when Harry really wanted it. Raising a brow to try to match Harry’s look, Severus promised, “Later.”
Harry’s face didn’t change, but his cock jumped, his eyes roaming over Severus’s face.
Smirking at him, Severus marched away to the kitchen. Ignoring Harry as best he could, he pulled out the fish and vegetables, giving the vegetables a wash before he placed them near Harry and handed him a charmed knife.
Rather than take it, Harry stared at it as if he’d forgotten what knives did.
“Take it,” said Severus. “I’ll enchant it so that you can’t be hurt by it.”
Although he’d already charmed it, he added a second layer of protective spells.
“Cut the vegetables into bite-sized chunks,” instructed Severus before he turned back to the haddock. He couldn’t concentrate. Harry stood just beyond his reach, nearly naked and smelling delicious. “It isn’t that hard, Potter. Here.” Sweeping over, he pressed up against Harry’s warm body, savoring the smell of him. Reaching around Harry’s sturdy torso, he curled his finger over the hand that held the knife, guiding the other hand into place.
“Cut like this,” he instructed. “Rock the knife instead of chopping with it. You want to use a steady, rhythmic motion.” He demonstrated. “Isn’t that far more efficient?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, his voice low. “Much more.” He turned around, and bent back towards the counter, showing off the long, angular lines of his torso. In a husky voice, he asked, “What do you want me to do now?”
What didn’t he want Harry to do? With those lips, those hands, that thick cock... Placing his hands on the counter on either side of Harry, Severus bent forward, pressing his groin against Harry’s, his cock full. Remembering how Harry had responded to having his earlobe bit, Severus placed his lips inches from it and whispered, “Now you cut the celery.” Ignoring the heaviness of his cock, he swept to the other side of the kitchen and pretended to busy himself with selecting dishes for the table.
Harry turned back to the counter. Although his knife fell correctly at first, he mangled the onions. Probably on purpose.
“You’re ruining them,” said Severus without any heat as he approached.
A crafty look in his eyes, Harry stepped to the side and motioned for Severus to approach. “Show me how.”
Severus stayed long enough to demonstrate before returning to the other side of the kitchen. He’d only finished mixed the herbs for tea when Harry said, “I’m not sure how small the potatoes should be.”
Although he knew it was just a game, Severus answered, “Bite-sized,” and slid over. Not moving from his spot, Harry pushed the cutting board, knife and potatoes over to Severus.
Although he doubted Harry would really pay attention, Severus instructed him. “Cut the potatoes in half first, then cube them.” As he demonstrated, Harry slid closer and closer, until he stood so close, Severus could nearly feel the heat radiating off of him. Ignoring him as best he could, Severus chopped up a potato then offered the knife to Harry. “Now you try it.”
“Yeah,” said Harry, hiding a grin as he reached away from Severus to grab a bowl. “I’ve got it now.”
Realizing that Harry didn’t intend to give him anything more at that moment, Severus returned to the other side of the kitchen. He hadn’t been there long when Harry swept across the room to the teapot, moving unnecessarily close to Severus as he reached for it. His hand lingered on Severus’s arse.
Severus had never had his arse groped before. Harry was the only person he trusted at his back. Eager to pick up where they’d left off, Severus hurried through the rest of the food preparations. He left the stew to cook on the back burner and finished the fish and chips for their current meal. As he wanted to have as much time as possible with Harry, he worked through his post whilst he ate.
After several minutes of silence, Harry asked, “Must you do that now?”
Glancing up, Severus asked, “Why not? Do you have something better to suggest?”
“We can talk.”
He didn’t have time to talk.
Firmly, Harry said, “If we’re going to be casting an important spell soon, then I should know as much about it as possible. I want to know the details.”
Harry held his gaze too firmly to be put off by cheap distractions. Setting the rest of his post to the side, Severus said, “The spell requires minimal input from you. I’ll give a line for you to repeat, but I’ll do most of the casting. What we’ll be doing in essence, is creating a potion for you to take before the second ceremony.”
“How will it stop me from dying?”
Did Harry know more about the spell than Severus thought? No, he couldn’t. He had to know that the Dark Lord would attempt to kill him.
“Drinking the potion will anchor your soul, causing it to remain in your body for the brief period while your body dies.” Close enough.
Harry frowned, “I thought you were just going to pretend to kill me?”
“As nothing can stop the Killing Curse, you will clinically die. If you do not take this potion we’ll prepare soon, your soul will pass on and there will be no way to revive you.”
“How does that work? And how do you know it will anchor my soul?”
Because it had worked for others before. “It works the same way any bit of magic works: Through a presently unknown mechanism. There is a chance that you will die, but I’m certain that your soul will be preserved.”
The furrow of his brow not lessening, Harry asked, “And if I don’t take this second potion, then I’ll die for sure? No way that I’ll survive?”
Had he misjudged what Harry wanted? Concentrating on Harry’s eyes, Severus said, “You assured me that wouldn’t be a problem. Have you changed your mind?"
Harry waved his hand dismissively. “No, of course not. Earlier you said that souls were nearly impossible to separate from the body. How can you be sure that my body will die and my soul won’t? What if he doesn’t try to possess my body? What if he cancels the ceremony?”
The Dark Lord wouldn’t try to possess Harry’s body and he wouldn’t want Harry to live - Harry remained too much of a danger to his Horcruxes. If he decided not to remove the Horcrux from Harry, he’d kill him instead. What caused all these questions and doubts? “Why do you think I have spent these months training you in dodging and aiming? If all else fails, you will snatch a wand and cast the Killing Curse upon him.”
“I can’t cast with these!” Harry motioned toward his cuffs.
“If you reveal your intention to fight, there will be Dark Magic cast towards you. Right before the second ceremony, you will drink the potion. The Dark Lord will give you a separate potion that will kill your body. There is a chance that the first ceremony won’t work,” If I die first “and you’ll die at this point. Most likely you’ll remain unconscious for a brief period of time while the Dark Lord attempts to de-soul you. The potion he’ll feed you to kill your body will wear off quickly. When you wake, you should find the Dark Lord dead. If not, you must concentrate on removing the cuffs, obtaining a wand and killing him yourself. Understood?”
“Earlier you told me not to try to get a wand because I wouldn’t know if it was compatible with me or not.”
He couldn’t remember half of the lies he’d told Harry. “Ideally, you will cast as infrequently as possible. Yes, using a wand not your own will affect your magic. However....” All one needed to cast the Cruciatus was hate. “I trust you have the hate in you necessary to destroy the Dark Lord, even with the wand of another.”
Coolly, Harry said, “That won’t be a problem.”
“Eat, and there may be time for more training after dinner.”
Chapter 55