A Light Untouched, part four

[lesyeuxverts]

Title: A Light Untouched
Author: lesyeuxverts
Pairings: Severus/Lucius, Lucius/Narcissa, Severus/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Length: 51,500 words, give or take a few
Warnings: AU, non-con (not in main pairings), dub-con, character death, torture, infidelity, bondage, rimming, dirty talk, first time, sex toys, semi-public sex, foodsmut, minor hints at D/s, underage where the age of consent is 18
Summary: "Redemption came in the space between breaths, in the jarring impact of coincidence, in the patient toil of years – for Severus Snape, it came when he met Harry Potter, the culmination of his life's work brought to glory in an instant."
AN: Written for klynie1 in the 2007 reversathon. She requested: "Snape/Harry AU - A chance meeting in a taxicab leads to love. Rating is writer's choice. Please, no Harry or Snape death."
Many, many thanks and grateful smooches to schemingreader, virginie_m, gingertart50, brightfeather, and snarry_fan7! I owe a debt of gratitude to each and every one of you, and also to the marvelous people who bounced ideas for me and gave me encouragement to write this.



Dumbledore interrupted Severus's next lesson with Potter, ambling down to the dungeons with Fawkes on his shoulder and a jaw-stretching grin on his face. "Severus, Harry, I'm so glad that you're both still here. I wanted to talk to the two of you together."

Harry, kneeling on the floor and deep in his breathing exercises, did not look up at the intrusion. Severus brushed across the surface of his mind, calming the last anxious fluttering thoughts that he found there, and helped him to emerge from the trance. "Harry."

"I must say, Severus, these are very unusual potions lessons that you're conducting here. Not a cauldron or textbook in sight, and ... Severus, is that tea? Milk, please, and two sugars."

Severus poured for him without a grumble, while Harry was scrambling up onto the sofa and accepting a second cup of tea for himself. "Are there any scones left, Professor?"

"The appetite of a growing boy, isn't that right, Harry?" Albus chuckled and conjured a plate of treats, watching Harry wield a butter knife like a sword through the cream and jam. "Arabella tells me that you often went hungry at the Dursleys."

Spine straight and shoulders back, Harry dropped the scone back onto the plate. It landed, jam first, with a soft plop. "You were there at the Ministry when I said that I wasn't going to answer any questions about my past. You decided to put me with the Dursleys and you decided to leave me there, giving up any right to hear about my time with them. I'm not discussing it, and that's final."

His father's traits fell away in that instant, and his mother's determination shone through him – sunlight filtered through colored glass, a half-dream, half-memory twisted through time. "Harry ..."

Severus reached out to touch his wrist, to lay his fingers against Potter's pulse, but he stopped before touching him. Albus watched them, one eyebrow quirked, and Severus, with his hand hovering midair, changed direction and retrieved the fallen scone. He offered the plate to Harry. "Don't allow the Headmaster to pressure you into anything."

Harry's eyes shone with a smile for Severus as he reached for a scone. Their fingers brushed, the touch sending a thrill down Severus's arm – he looked away from Harry, staring down at the plate and the golden scones arranged in a semicircle.

The silence was broken when the Floo flared, Lucius stepping out of the hearth with a swagger to his hips. "Severus, did you know that –"

He brushed the last trace of soot from his dove-gray cloak and it fell to the hearthstones in a graceful, black arc as he looked up at last.

Severus stood, wand in his hand and pointed at Lucius. A dozen hexes hovered on his tongue, the darkness creeping in and coiling around the corners of his mind, taking hold of him and providing him with more ammunition. A curse, half-formed, sizzled down Severus's arm, and it rested in his hand, heating his wand and sparkling on the tip.

Lucius stepped aside, his cloak swirling around his calves. "Headmaster Dumbledore, what a surprise to see you here," he said, "and Mr. Potter – I certainly never thought that I'd find you in Severus's private quarters on a sunny afternoon like this. The dungeons are so damp at this time of year, aren't they?"

Albus nodded to Lucius, leaning back after pouring himself another cup of tea. "Mr. Malfoy, an unexpected visit indeed."

Lucius showed his teeth when he smiled. He slipped his hand into his pocket, stepping out of Severus's range and moving closer to Potter. "I thought that I would drop by to visit with an old friend."

"I hardly think that was the case," Severus said. He moved to stand in front of Potter, brushing aside the exploratory, insidious tendrils of Lucius's magic. "I'm aware of the fact that you consider yourself to be above the rules that apply to others, Malfoy, but even you ought to understand the significance of a set of personal wards. I imagine that they made it clear that you are trespassing."

Lucius shrugged, his hair rippling in the low, rosy light from the fire. "Personal wards are none of my concern. I'm on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, and need to be able to access the school in case of an emergency. Wouldn't you agree, Headmaster?"

The buzz of Harry's magic skated along Severus's nerves. Potter came up behind him, his breath warm on Severus's neck, and moved to the side, watching Malfoy. Without sparing him a glance, Severus moved in front of him to shield him again.

"I've made it clear that you aren't wanted here, Lucius," he said before Albus could answer. "Be good enough to wipe up the soot before you leave."

"Severus, you've never denied me anything before in your life. Would you deny me the chance to savor this delicious irony?"

Lucius paused, striking a pose before the fireplace – a black silhouette against the dancing flames, the elegant line of his cloak draping down and swishing around his legs. "I come to tell you the news that I've heard – that Harry Potter is working for the Ministry of Magic – and who do I see here but Harry Potter?"

Lucius ducked around Severus, his cloak brushing against Severus's outstretched hand. He reached out and put a hand on Severus's shoulder, holding him back. Velvet-soft, the touch was cloying and clinging, as musky and seductive as the smell of overripe fruit. It overwhelmed his senses and muffled them, the dark magic seeping through his skin and into his veins, enough to intoxicate him. "Malfoy, don't you ..."

"Severus, where are your manners? Is this any way to treat a guest in your home?"

Lucius stripped off his gloves and offered his hand to Potter. "Lucius Malfoy, Mr. Potter. I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance at last. I've heard a great deal about you ... from many sources."

Harry's arms were folded across his chest, but he did not flinch away from Lucius's touch, did not flinch or react at all. Severus drew in a sharp breath. "Harry, don't ..."

"Stop hovering over the boy like a broody mother hen, Snape. He doesn't need you to interfere with his every move."

Albus finished his tea, setting his cup on its saucer with a sharp, resounding clink, and he rose from his chair, the air hazy around him with undiluted power. "Mr. Malfoy, I think that Professor Snape has made it quite clear that you are not welcome in his rooms. Although you are welcome on school grounds as a member of the Board of Governors, I'm afraid that the welcome does not extend to the personal quarters of the faculty here."

Malfoy's lip curled up at Albus, and he shook his head. "You won't be able to hide Harry Potter away from the world forever, Dumbledore. He's the savior of the world as we know it, not the savior of Severus's damp and moldy dungeons. He deserves to be out in the sunlight, and the public deserves to see him and know that he is well."

He reached for Potter again, fingertips close enough to brush together, but Potter glared at his outstretched hand, pushing it away with an unfocused wave of magic. "Don't touch me."

Stumbling from the force of Harry's magic, Malfoy grabbed Severus's shoulder. Dark magic – like ether, like slow poison – passed between them at the point of contact, spreading through Severus. It resonated through his bones, poured through his blood, lulling him and comforting him.

"I wondered why you were so solicitous of Harry Potter's welfare, Severus. I can't say that I blame you – he's very attractive, isn't he? Is that why you decided to look past the sins of the father in order to fuck the son, as it were?"

Malfoy's hand was wrenched from Severus's shoulder with a blast of wild magic, a vehement tempest pouring from Harry. "I don't know why you are still here," Harry said, "but you've been asked to leave more than once. Don't stay here to insult me or my father."

The air around Harry shimmered, waves of heat shining out from him. Stepping in front of him and capturing his gaze, Severus reached into the vortex and put a hand on Harry's arm. "Take deep breaths, control your magic. Don't let it control you – that's it, Harry."

"You're having some troubles with your protégé, I see," Lucius said. He tried to step around Severus again, leaning in toward Harry.

"That can happen when a wizard isn't taught magic until later in life, he never learns to properly ground and control his magic. That's the problem with Mud-Muggleborn wizards, they've not been taught how to channel their emotions from infancy as real, pure-blood wizards are. Of course, it's much worse when the wizard doesn't even make it to Hogwarts, isn't it?"

Taking a step closer, he reached out to Potter. "You see, Mr. Potter? I understand the problems that you face and I know how to surmount them. I can teach you ... I can show you so much that you don't know about this world. Don't allow yourself to be blinkered by these ridiculous, nonsensical notions that Snape and Dumbledore have been spouting. Come with me ... let me teach you."

Malfoy's eyes glinted silver in the firelight, and his face shone with promise and allure. He wove a spell with his words, the magic sparkling like black diamonds in the air around him, sharp and perfect. He reached out to touch Potter's sleeve, his fingers grasping the fabric and holding it.

Severus took a deep breath, the burn of air in his lungs enough to cut him away from the darkness. "You will regret this, Malfoy. I'm not blinkered by pretty ethics or notions of justice, and I tell you now – if you do anything that causes harm to come to Harry, you will regret it threefold."

"That's enough, gentlemen." Albus intervened before Severus hexed Malfoy, separating the two of them with a ward that hummed through the air between them. It pushed them apart, Severus gritting his teeth and fighting to stay on his feet.

"Mr. Malfoy, I believe that you were leaving, unless you are here on school business, perhaps?" Albus said. "In that case, let us proceed to my office."

"I have unfinished business with Snape, and Mr. Potter hasn't replied to my proposition, either." Malfoy fought the ward that swept him toward the door, his cloak fluttering around his legs as he struggled to stand. His hand fumbled in his pocket and he drew his wand. "I protest this unwarranted attack upon my person."

"You were warned, Malfoy. You aren't welcome in my quarters, and Harry wants nothing to do with you. Get out."

Albus pushed Malfoy out of the room, nodding at Severus as he closed the door behind him. The sound echoed, Severus slumping as he was released from the ward that had clutched at him like molten elastic, clogging his senses and freezing him in place.

The dark aura that oozed from Lucius had disappeared when the door slammed shut, the last lingering particles vanishing with a snapping sound that gave Severus a headache. He busied himself with the teapot, pouring himself another cup and adding a pain relieving potion to it.

Achingly and numbingly sweet, tinged with a greasy, rainbow-slick overlay of darkness like oil on water, the backlash ran through Severus and the room vibrated with Potter's aura, an overload of magic that heightened Severus's pain. "What was that?" Potter demanded. "Who the hell was that, and what was wrong with him? Why did he do that?"

Rubbing his temples until the potion took effect, Severus ignored Potter's questions. "Practice those breathing exercises that I showed you," he said. "Your control is execrable."

"You never answer any of my questions," Harry said. "What kind of teacher are you, anyway? What was that spell that the Headmaster cast between the two of you? What was Malfoy offering me? How did he get through your wards?"

"Control," Severus said. His headache faded away, and he looked up at Potter. "Your patience is as lacking as your temper.

"To answer your questions briefly – Lucius Malfoy was once a friend, and is now an unwelcome intruder. Do not trust anything that he says, and do not allow yourself to be alone with him, for he bears you no good will."

Potter opened his mouth to protest, and Severus cut him off with a sharp glare. "Do you trust me, or no? I will tell you what you need to know. The rest of it is irrelevant."

Deep breaths, a well of calmness – erasing the earlier pain and unrest – it all came from Potter. His eyes shut, his face smoothed of its angry lines, he radiated light. All of the darkness of anger and frustration was gone from him, and his magic made Severus's blood sing. "I do trust you," Harry said.

"I'm flattered," Severus said, offering his hand to Harry, skin tingling in anticipation of their touch.

His hand hovered there for a long moment before Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, I ... I can't."

"Very well, then," Severus said, taking a step away from him. He was sliced open with coldness, enough to make him shiver.

He swung his cloak down from its peg on the wall and wrapped it around himself, stalking away to stand by the fireplace and letting it billow out behind him. "Let's move on to the rest of the lesson. There's a Potions textbook on the lowest shelf, there – you may begin with the first chapter."

-------

Severus turned away from his potion, simmering in his largest cauldron, taking down another jar of stewed slugs and beginning to cube them. The rhythmic snick of his knife and the precision of straight lines and equal volumes calmed Severus, lulling him into complacency. Cut and cut and cut – he sliced the slugs into perfect cubes, adding them to the Flobberworm base. He fell into the motions of brewing, stilling his emotions and clearing his mind.

Potter entered without knocking, and Severus did not look up. Cut and cut and cut, another set of perfect cubes formed under his fingers, and were added to the cauldron.

"You weren't in your chambers," Potter said. "Albus told me to find you here, but I thought ..."

"You are not required to do any thinking here, Mr. Potter. You are a student now – you need only follow instructions."

Severus bit the inside of his cheeks, holding the skin between his teeth until it smarted. He dipped into the jar and pulled out another handful of slugs, spreading them out in even lines and reaching for his knife. Potter came to stand in front of him, his reflection shimmering in the brewing potion, hazy and indistinct.

"We will be having our lessons in this classroom from now on," he said.

"Malfoy tried to kill me this week," Harry said, setting his cauldron on the worktable with a dull clang.

Severus looked up at him then – thin and sullen, Potter had a new blemish on his aura today. Brushing against his mind with the feather-soft stroke of Legilimency, Severus filtered through the worry and anger, the nattering anxieties and the sharp jabber of impending mortality. He drank deeply of Potter's mind, absorbing the darkness from him. Bitter betrayal lurked there, permeating the shadows of his mind and casting a poisonous, wretched mist throughout him.

"I see that you've survived. Not that cauldron, Potter – take down the pewter one, size five."

"Is Potions the only thing that's important to you, then? You don't even care that I was almost killed."

Severus added the last of the cubed slugs to his cauldron and wiped his hands clean. "You'll be making a forgetfulness potion today and will need to pay especial attention to the fumes. Once the potion is simmering in the final stages, they are as potent as the potion itself, and if you inhale them, you may find that you've forgotten how indifferent I am to your plight."

He ignored Potter's muttered insult and reinforced his Occlumency shields, thickening them and changing their focus to Dumbledore – stern in his purple spangled robes, adding milk and sugar to the tea and then forcing a cup of it on Severus, the bitter tea of his childhood memories enough to make his throat close up. Severus kept the image in the front of his mind, the bitter tea that they had shared when they destroyed the Horcruxes, the promises that Albus had extracted from him.

"You will not endanger Harry, Severus. Your closeness to him – Lucius Malfoy saw the two of you together, has seen evidence of your protective nature on more than one occasion. Once he draws the connection, you've put Harry in peril." The words played through his mind like a refrain, a broken loop that he took control of and used to strengthen his shields. The weakest and most flawed of building materials could be used in the mind, and this was stronger than that – Severus was a master of the mental arts.

Potter was nothing to him – it was a sentence that he added to the refrain, building up the defenses of his mind, restoring the walls that Lucius had tried to breach. Potter was nothing to him, and Severus jumped, dropping the knife with a clatter when Harry touched his arm.

"Do you want to see it?"

"Unless it is your finished potion or some indication that you've learned how to speak the English language properly, using pronouns only when they have clear referents ... then no, I do not want to see it."

Potter grinned at him then, shaking the sullenness away with a visible shudder. It ran through his thin shoulders, blurring the lines of his body, and Severus closed his eyes. "You're in an especially grumpy mood today," Potter said.

"Your potion, Mr. Potter, if you please. Call upon me only if you are in need of assistance."

"You used to call me Harry, you know. Look, Severus. Lucius Malfoy tried to kill me. It has the advantage of sorting one's priorities out, death." Potter stuck his arm into Severus's line of vision, a snake coiled around his forearm. It opened its mouth, tasting the air and hissing at Severus.

"Don't you like my new pet? She's actually quite friendly once you get to know her, and once we sorted all of the misunderstandings out. She didn't want to kill me at all, did you pet?"

Potter was comfortable with the reptile, not shying away from its touch as he did with humans. He rubbed his cheek against the snake's pointed head, affectionate and calm – it flicked its tongue out to caress his cheek, tasting the salt there and leaving no mark behind. It was venomous, marked with bright bands. Severus had failed in his task if Malfoy had made an attempt on the boy's life already.

"You may address me as Professor or sir while you are studying with me, Mr. Potter, and while you are studying with me, you will focus on those lessons and not on your new familiars or any other baubles that catch your attention."

Severus flung his hand out, pointing at Potter's cauldron, and he went, obedient to Severus. The thrill of Potter's submission did not coil down Severus's spine, did not intoxicate him with its power, and did not tingle along his skin or titillate his nerves. Bending his head over the simmering potion, Severus let his hair fall in front of his face, shielding him from Harry.

"You seemed interested enough in Lucius Malfoy last week," Potter said. "How was I to know that you wouldn't want to hear about him this week?"

The forgetfulness potion sizzled when Potter added the crushed daisies too soon, a greenish haze spreading through the room. He chopped his newt skin haphazardly, the noise clanging through the air and setting Severus's teeth on edge. "Besides, I've heard all about it," Potter said. "How close the two of you were in school, how everyone thinks that you used to be lovers, how Narcissa Malfoy doesn't miss a chance to cut you down in public because she's trying to cling to the shreds of her marriage."

"As loathe as I am to disappoint your expectations, Mr. Potter, the wizarding world is not a soap opera set up for your entertainment. There is nothing between Lucius Malfoy and myself, but should there be ... it would be our private business, and not a matter for your prurient speculations.

"Moreover," Severus said, looking up at him with teeth bared in a sharp rictus, "you may find it unwise to speculate too closely about any potential relationship between Mr. Malfoy and myself. I'm quite certain that neither he nor his wife would appreciate it and you may find yourself charged with slander. Be careful, Mr. Potter – the world here is full of such unexpected pitfalls."

"I ... you, but –"

"Stop stammering and mind your potion before it explodes in your face."

"I didn't mean – I was just asking, all right? I wanted to know, that's all."

Severus strode over to Potter and loomed over him, his lank hair swinging down to brush the other man's cheekbones. "You may wish to reconsider your choice of subjects. Chosen One and Savior of the wizarding world or no, you would do well to focus your curiosity elsewhere – I will not tolerate questions about my personal life while you are my student."

The potion sizzled, fumes coming up to warm their faces. Severus took a deep breath and coughed, looking down at the cauldron before Vanishing its contents. Burbling liquid coated with a layer of scum, the mangled daisies floated at the top and bobbed with the rising bubbles. "This potion is as pathetic as you are inquisitive, Mr. Potter. Begin again."

Potter glared at him, his hair ruffled by a rush of anger. "Control, Mr. Potter," Severus said. "Clean out the cauldron first, or are you a complete dimwit?"

"I'm not –"

"Clean out your cauldron." Severus turned away, letting his robes billow out around him with dark and intimidating flutters. He built his mental walls higher, clinging to his Occlumency, clearing his mind and taking deep, drugging breaths. His blood awash in oxygen, he floated high above the need for penance or anger, and he clenched his fists, driving his fingernails into his palms until it stung.

The sound of water splashing and Potter scrubbing drew Severus down from high, and he stalked over to examine the work. He smirked down at Potter's steam-reddened hands. "At least you know how to scrub – there's a future for you as a dishwasher, I imagine."

"I know that. Do you think that I don't?" There was no bright spark of anger in Potter's words, no flare in his aura – his insult was absorbed into a spreading pool of calm, and Severus blinked.

"Manual labor to tame the savage beast? I see that I'll have to reconsider my methods, then – I never would have imagined that a spoiled little brat would soil his hands with grease and dirt. Your father would roll in his grave, boy, if he could see you now."

"How do you think I supported myself, after the Dursleys kicked me out?" Potter refused to meet Severus's gaze, focused on his scrubbing. "I was sixteen and I'd failed most of my classes. Dishwasher was one of the best jobs I could get – paid the bills, more or less, and it wasn't too dangerous."

After all of Severus's jabs, after his high and reinforced walls, Potter still looked up at him with trust shimmering in his eyes and bright on his face. He was as bright as the dawn star, shimmering with power – full-bodied and addictive, smoke-sharp and knife-thick, as rich as a deep, aged whiskey. "I wasn't a spoiled brat, no matter what you think of me, Professor, and I'm not a freak, no matter what the Dursleys said. I'm not a murderer, no matter what the Aurors think of me. I'm no threat, no matter what Lucius Malfoy thinks, and no savior, no matter what anyone thinks. I'm just Harry."

"As impressed as I am with that sweeping assessment of your skills, just Harry, let me suggest that you be a dishwasher rather than a melodramatic teenager. That cauldron will not finish scrubbing itself." Severus reached past Potter, stretching up to take down the jar of dried glassy-winged sharpshooters.

Potter flinched when Severus came near him. The cauldron thudded down in the bottom of the sink with an echoing, brassy clang, and Potter ducked away from Severus, his hands up to protect his face.

Pressed back against the shelves, his arms up and his face hidden, Potter made himself as small as possible. Severus stared at him and then reached up for the sharpshooters, taking the jar down and setting it on the counter with a thump. "What did they do to you?"

Harry uncurled at once, not meeting Severus's gaze. He recoiled from his touch and shuffled his feet on the ground before he sprang back to his cauldron, his head ducked as he resumed scrubbing. The tousled locks of his hair fell over his face, hiding his scarred forehead, and the magic that emanated from him had curled up on itself. Only a subdued thrum remained, vibrating through Severus's bones. He kept his distance, waiting for Harry's response.

"They didn't do anything to me," Harry said. "No one did. I don't like to be touched, that's all."

Severus hummed under his breath, the vibration through his lips at the same frequency as the song of Harry's magic. He took the jar of sharpshooters over to the cauldron, opening it and counting out a dozen of the dried insects. They fluttered in the breeze of his breath, floating down to dissolve in his brewing potion. "I see."

"You don't like my snake?" Harry asked, changing the subject and chasing away his frown with a splash of soapy water that landed on his lips, making him spit and splutter. He hauled the cauldron out of the sink and began drying it with one of the large, stained rags that Severus kept for the purpose. "I thought you would – they told me, some of the Aurors, about the four Houses here at Hogwarts, and about you being Head of Slytherin. I thought you would approve."

"I do not approve of your attempts to distract me, or to waste your lesson time on frivolities." Severus watched the snake uncoil from Harry's wrist, hissing at him and lowering itself down to the worktable. "Do keep your familiar under control, Mr. Potter. Familiars that wander around my workroom have a tendency of finding themselves chopped up as potions ingredients, or as experimental subjects."

Harry looked at him again with that broad, free smile – laughter in the wrinkles around his eyes, a glint in his eyes, and he was beautiful when he smiled. Severus wanted to keep all of Harry's smiles, wanted to hoard them for himself. "You are grumpy today, aren't you? What's wrong?"

Severus built up the walls around his mind, blanking his thoughts. Harry, pristine and vibrant, a debt to repay and a penance to bear – no, Severus could not endanger him. "Begin your potion, and pay careful attention to the second and fifth steps. Precision is essential."

Potter blinked at him, his smile faded and his eyes shuttered. He was beautiful, and Severus would not condemn him again – would not encourage Malfoy's interest in him, would not taint him with darkness. Albus's warning echoed through his mind, Harry's flinches and Lucius's threats. He had not saved Potter in order to damn him.

A jangle of magic across his nerves, discordant and sharp, it stung Severus and drew him in. Potter was starting to unfurl from his protective cocoon, unwrapping the layers and wards that surrounded him – yes, those wretched Muggles had done something to him. A childhood spent in their world had left Potter flinching and frightened – it was no wonder that Voldemort had been bent on destroying that world. It was no wonder that Severus had joined him in the attempt.

Severus's potion hissed, the silver-pearly fumes rising up to wreath his face. He took down the powdered moonstone, sifting it over the surface of the liquid, and the fumes changed, rainbow-bright in their shifting patterns.

"Severus?"

He did not reprimand Potter for his informality, nor did he speak to him. Severus took down a rack of vials, crystal-bright and shimmering with the protective spells layered on them, and began bottling the potion.

"Were you ... were you told that Lucius Malfoy tried to kill me? Are you upset about it?"

The ladle slipped in his hand, and a dollop of potion fell to the counter, gleaming in the light before it vaporized. "I was aware that it was a possibility, yes."

"You were his lover, then, despite what you said earlier." Potter drew nearer to Severus, abandoning his own cauldron that already bubbled with the base for the potion. "Did you care for him very much? Were you –"

"I'll thank you to refrain from prying into my private affairs, Mr. Potter." Severus bottled the last of the vials, setting it on the rack and cleaning the cauldron with a swish of his wand.

Potter's sullenness returned as he went back to his cauldron, his shoulders slumping as he bumped the vials together with a glassy clang. "They told me about it, you know. Some people don't automatically assume that I'm stupid and not worthy of knowing anything. The Aurors told me all about it ... everything about Malfoy, and the war, and everything."

"I imagine that they told you what they found expedient to tell you," Severus said. "Stir with a counterclockwise motion or the potion will be completely ineffective."

"You wouldn't have told me, I know." Harry let the stirring rod fall, clanking against the side of the cauldron before it slipped to the bottom, disappearing into the simmering potion with a faint burble. "For all your talk of trust, and the way you rescued me, you never tell me anything."

"There are some things that you should not know. Does this conversation have a point? If so, is it even remotely related to the potion that you are supposed to be brewing?"

Severus's walls were strong enough to withstand the onslaught – Potter, with all his disarming charm and seductive magic, he was his father's son. He was an arrogant brat. He was nothing, absolutely nothing to Severus.

Severus took down a clean cauldron and began a new potion, gathering pixie wings and feather-fern flowers from the cupboard. He glanced over to check Potter's progress, watching him try to Summon the fallen stirring rod from the potion, and sighed. He'd brew a forgetfulness potion for himself at this rate, before the lessons with Potter were over.

"Using magic in the close vicinity of a potion while brewing it will only render it unusable, Mr. Potter. The vibrations of the natural ingredients and the magic added in the brewing process can be disrupted and ..."

Potter cursed when his newest attempt at the potion was Banished. "What kind of teacher are you?"

"Not the kind who is willing to pander to you merely because you are a celebrity, or because you were raised by ignorant Muggles, or because you have been abused. Begin again," Severus said. He dropped the last tidbit into conversation, waiting for Potter's response, and he watched the muscles in his face twitch, the hands at his sides clenching into fists.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Potter said.

"Don't assume that I am stupid, Mr. Potter. I've seen the way that you flinch at my touch, the efforts that you put to keep space between you and everyone else. If those Muggles didn't abuse you, then I'll be damned as a fool and a piss-poor Head of Slytherin – I know what abuse looks like."

Potter's magic flared, a crackling halo visible around him – it whirled around him, leaving him disheveled and breathless. Before Severus reminded him of the need to control his power, he took a deep breath and reined it in, running a hand through his hair, straightening it and glaring through his fringe at Severus. "I don't like to be touched, that's all. It's none of your business."

"Harry ..."

Here was the chance to win the golden boy, here was the chance to capture Potter's trust for good, to end these verbal dances and evasions. Severus dropped his ladle on the table, his hands shaking with the power that echoed through the room. "Harry, please. Let it be my business, too – let me help you. You don't have to be afraid anymore, you're well away from those Muggles now."

Potter seemed to crack, faltering before Severus's conviction. He broke eye contact, looking down and scuffing his feet on the floor. The whisper-hiss of his Muggle shoes against the stone rang through the classroom, a counterpoint to his thoughts and an echo of the pulse that burned through Severus. They were close enough to touch, close enough for Potter's magic to kindle a fire in him, to light his nerves and life with splendor.

"I wish ... I wish I'd never been sent to live with the Dursleys," Harry said.

Severus stepped toward him, pulling Potter towards the precipice of trust. "I wish that for you, too."

Harry looked up at him, his green eyes wide, and took a step away from him and back towards his cauldron. He shook his head, and the aura around him flared again.

Severus only had the time to duck as he put all of the goose-down feathers into his potion, letting them explode in a frothy white handful over the cauldron. The liquid seized up, bubbling and sending hot droplets flying up into Potter's face. Severus cast a ward over the cauldron and jerked him out of harm's way.

Severus's hands sizzled at the contact and were empty a second later, Potter jerking away from him and glaring at him. "You're a bastard, you don't tell me anything, you aren't even remotely concerned over the fact that I was almost killed, and you want me to trust you?

"I know, Snape. I know all about it – how my father saved your life and how you betrayed him and my mum to their death. I know about it all, and I was going to give you a chance to explain ... but no. You don't care anything for me, you don't care about anything except your potions, and you don't even want me."

Potter's magic shimmered through the room, a localized tornado sweeping potions ingredients from their shelves and fueling the flames under the two cauldrons. "You thought that I didn't know and you weren't about to tell me and you weren't about to care whether I lived or died. Were you hoping that I would die? Were you hoping to see my whole family die?"

Both cauldrons exploded, their contents splattering the wards around them, and Potter gave Severus a last look before he strode from the room and slammed the door. "I wanted to trust you."

Like penance, like forgiveness, like the breath of a kiss across his cheek – Severus let the wards fall. He was splattered by the potions, warm drops falling onto him, sizzling through his robes and marking his skin. He took the pain, absorbing it and building it into his mental walls, blocking out Potter and shutting himself into darkness.

-------

Severus did not see Potter again for several months. His dungeons rang clean with the sound of silence, the absence of Potter's voice, the scuffling sound of his Muggle shoes against the floor, the roar and hiss of the explosions he created in his cauldrons, and the subtle whisper of his magic, the flaring of his power and the light of his anger.

Albus brought him tea thick with milk and sugar, and trays of cloying pastries that he refused to eat. He waited until the silence returned, with the sound of Albus's shuffling footsteps and Fawkes's low cries dying away, before he took his wand and took aim. Fire and ice, disintegration and putrefaction – he visited them all on the pastries. Sugar congealed and burned, the fruit fillings were charred to crisps, the scones exploded in a frenzy of mold growth. Fruit flies buzzed around the rotting pies, the mold burst open in a thousand spores, and Severus flicked a curse at the tea cake turned into a rat, sending it scurrying for cover.

With a last curse, he Banished it all. The odors lingered in the air, char and rot – he Banished them as well, taking a deep breath.

The dungeon was his – reclaimed from Potter's presence, uncontaminated by him and Severus scoured it with a host of cleaning spells. Mildewed stones were made glossy with lemony shine, the tattered tapestries that hid the dark walls were Banished into storage and the walls were scoured clean. The rat that had escaped from the tea tray was Summoned and impaled, its corpse floating out of the dungeon with the rest of the trash.

This was Severus's home, his haven and sanctuary, and he made it his own. The remnants of past professors' tenure in these rooms were gone, the mark of the years of darkness and spying were erased, and the darkness and dank gloom that clung to them was wiped away. He moved from his room to his lab, cleaning the corridor as he went.

Like a mad sorcerer's dance, this room was subject to his next purge. Bottles danced in the air, a complex waltz that had dragonsbane and wolfsbane twirling together midair, the jars of phoenix feathers and goose down clanking together as they zoomed to the correct shelf. He scoured every shelf, setting each dust mote afire – like a fevered constellation, they spun around the room, coming together in a fireball before they blinked out of existence.

Flames washed the sides of each bottle, hot and red or cold and blue according to the contents. They were wiped clean of dust and cobwebs, sterilized and returned to their places. The cauldrons were scoured, hopping from sink to sink in a clanking parade with popping bubbles. The floor and walls were purified, the grime from countless explosions and mishaps washed away with the force of Severus's spells. He was alight with his magic, his skin crackling with power and his heart pumping with it.

It all died away, the last jar settling back onto its shelf with a thud, and Severus slumped where he stood. In the silence, in the clean laboratory, he took down a set of jars. Pepper-Up for Madam Pomfrey – sliced ginger, nettles, the jewel-bright pomegranate seeds and a dozen dried salamanders. He dried out a cauldron and filled it with water from the tap. Before the cloudy sediment could precipitate to the bottom, he cleaned it up with a spell and set the water, sparkling and clear, over the flame to boil.

This was his laboratory, empty and useful. Potter's voice was not echoing against the walls, raised in anger or complaint. Potter's explosions were not ricocheting off the walls and sending hot liquid splattering close to Severus or his potions. Harry was not here, vibrant and alight with magic.

Severus took down the jar of moonstone pieces and began reducing them to powder, the mortar and pestle grinding together with screeches that echoed through his bones, jarring him from teeth to spine.

Albus came down to the lab then, his purple robes sweeping across Severus's clean floors. "My, Severus, the magical effort that you were expanding today was certainly worthwhile. I do like what you've done with the room."

The water came to a full boil, and Severus added the ginger, turning the flame down until the water started to simmer. "I'm glad it meets with your approval," he said. "I was waiting with bated breath."

"Severus," Albus said, and then he stopped, circling around the cauldron to look him in the face. "We had an argument, several years ago, and I let you persuade me to a course of action that I felt to be entirely unwise. Because of it, Harry stayed in the Muggle world, ignorant of his heritage and able to pursue his own choices ... but now, he has entered into the wizarding world, and because of his training with the Aurors, he has enough knowledge of magic to make an informed decision.

"I let you interfere once, and you owe me for that favor. I'm calling it in now – you must not interfere with Harry's decision this time."

The silver blade of his knife rose and fell as Severus diced the nettles, slicing them into thin sections. The sap stained his fingers sepia-brown, spreading up his hands and settling in vague, abstract blotches over his skin. "I paid that debt in full when I came to teach here at your bidding. I will agree to do nothing but what is best for Harry Potter," Severus said. "I've never acted against his welfare, and you know that."

"I've allowed you to have this close association with him, knowing that it put him in danger – knowing that it made him a target for some of your past associates," Albus said, and Severus filled his ears with the silence that echoed through his chambers. He filled his heart with the aching absence of Harry and let the bitterness seep from his heart through his veins, tingling through his blood.

"I've allowed him to trust you," Albus said, "despite your history and your dark, destructive tendencies. Because I know that you have his best interests in mind, and because I know that you value his innocence, I've allowed all of this. I will not allow you to interfere with his destiny."

"A screeching harridan with bug-eyed glasses and a penchant for gauzy shawls and two Knut jewelry does not dictate destiny," Severus said. "You are not the guardian of Harry Potter's destiny, and I won't let you blinker him into making a decision that you feel is best – I've suffered enough for that treatment to know better. If he comes to me ..."

Severus's potion hissed, and he turned back to it, turning the flame lower and ignoring the pang that shot through his chest. "If he comes to me, I will act as I see best, without reference to your dictates, which are based on irrational twaddle and misty uncertainties. Is that clear?"

"After I have protected you, rescued you from your bad decisions and set you on the path of the light, you dare to say such things to me? You are in no position to dictate anything to me, Severus Snape. You will agree to my terms, or I will turn you in to the Ministry as a Death Eater. They'll not be pleased to hear that you've corrupted Harry."

"No one has corrupted me," Harry said, slipping in through the half-open door. He was clad in red Auror robes, the color echoed in the flush of his cheeks. "I can't believe that you talk about me behind my back like this – these issues concern me, too. They concern me most of all and I need –"

"We all have to make sacrifices," Albus said. He raised a hand and Silenced Severus with a nonverbal spell. "The world needs you to do this, Harry – it's been your destiny since before you were born. You owe the Ministry as much, in return for the training that they've given you, the recovery that they allowed you to make from the bad start in life that the Muggles gave you."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Harry asked. "You left me with them, after all. You left me there when I was a baby and again when I was eleven – you could have brought me my Hogwarts letter and rescued me from them, and you never did. You never cared until you could make use of me."

"If you were eavesdropping," Albus said, "then you know that it was Severus who wanted you to be left with the Dursleys. He insisted that we not interfere with your decisions."

"That is not true." Rage boiled over in Severus, bubbling out of his skin in heat waves. "I argued that you not taint him with that –"

"I know," Harry said. He walked over to Severus, putting a hand on his shoulder and grounding him. Severus's magic arced and fizzled, a spectacular lightstorm that surrounded the two of them for an instant before fading away. "Control, remember? I know that you would never hurt me."

Light and dark blended together, enough to blind Severus, and he shook his head, clearing away the spots that filled his vision. "You don't know that ... you can't know that."

"I do know it." Harry smiled up at him, and Severus was undone by his trust.

He reached for Harry, his fingers hovering in the air over Harry's shoulder, and then Harry took his hand, holding it between both of his own. Magic sang between them, thick between their hands, joining their bodies, and Severus caught his breath.

"I'm sorry about before," Harry said, "about what I said to you. It was ... I was wrong. I shouldn't have ..."

"You were right." Severus drew back from Harry, wrapping darkness around himself like a cloak. "I did condemn your parents to death – I told Lord Voldemort of the Prophecy and told him of your mother's pregnancy. I betrayed you, don't sugarcoat it or brush it away."

"Since I've met you, you've been the only one in this world who hasn't betrayed me," Harry said. He looked over at Albus, his eyes dark as he stepped closer to Severus. "I haven't liked you, always, but I trust you."

Albus approached them, hands outstretched, his aura thrumming with power. Here was light enough to illuminate the room, enough to show each corner, each missing cobweb and each absent speck of dust. Severus's potion burbled in its cauldron, reacting to the magic that spilled out from Albus. "Harry, I've done nothing to harm you. I only want what is best for you and your destiny –"

"And all of the world," Harry said. "You betrayed me when you kept me away from Severus – I heard all about it from Kingsley. He told me about it, told me about you encouraging him to tell me that Severus betrayed my parents, and about your suggestion that I'd do better with another potions tutor."

"Albus, you didn't ..."

"Harry, how can you believe him? Don't you know what he is, who he is, what he has done? He betrayed your parents, destroyed your childhood – will you sacrifice your destiny to him?"

Severus grabbed Harry's hands, squeezing them between his own. "Don't confuse the issue, Albus. The past has nothing to do with it and there's no need for you to bring it up. I've atoned for that mistake – I did my penance when I kept you from corrupting him with your dark rituals and soul-tainting magic when he was a boy."

Harry glowed, his power pushing out of him and pushing Albus away. "Stop trying to separate us," he said. "I won't stand for it."

Albus ceded the battle, nodding to Severus and Harry as he left. He paused in the doorway. "Remember your destiny, Harry. Remember your past, Severus – could you bear to have the man who enslaved you return and rule over us all? Could you bear to submit to him again?"

The silence echoed after him, his light withdrawn and leaving the room dim, and then Harry smiled at Severus with a lopsided quirk of his lips.

"Kingsley told me about how you were looking after me," he said, hoisting himself up onto one of the high worktables. His feet dangled, hitting against the drawers. "How you asked after my training and insisted that you be the one to provide potions for me. Thank you for that, by the way – they worked wonders."

"You hardly need my help now that you're accustomed to the way things work here," Severus said. He could not hold Harry to him with falseness or lies, could not bind up that golden, shining trust with darkness.

Harry kicked the table, picking up the jar of nettles and examining it. He turned it around in his hand, the dried nettles clinking against the glass as they fell against the walls of the jar. "I do need your help. I know it's hardly fair to ask you," he said, "but I don't know who else to ask."

Standing against Harry, whose knees jabbed into Severus's thighs, Severus looked into his eyes. They were of a height like this, Harry looking at him without blinking or flinching away. "Ask," Severus said.

"They ... they want me to kill Lucius Malfoy." Harry broke the connection between them, looking down at his lap. He fiddled with his hands, adjusting the cuffs on his sleeves and worrying a loose thread from his fraying hem. "I don't think I can do it."

Lucius, with his smile and his body and his perfect arse – Lucius, with the aura of darkness that clung to him, the plots and failed attempt to kill Harry – Severus's hands twitched, but he made no attempt to reach out and touch Harry again. "Why?"

Studying his hands, Harry began picking at a hangnail and refused to meet Severus's gaze. "They – there have been signs that Voldemort is returning with Malfoy's help. Albus is convinced that I'm the only one who can kill him, and he's persuaded the Ministry that I have to do it before he has a chance to make another set of Horcruxes."

"He hasn't enough soul left to split it," Severus said. "He can't make another Horcrux, let alone another set of them."

Harry was bright and bold as his father, as his mother – he was a Gryffindor, to be certain, and yet he hesitated at the task. "I don't think that I can kill anyone," he said. "I know ... they told me that I killed Voldemort, but I don't, I didn't –"

"I know." Severus reached out and tilted Harry's chin up, looking into his eyes. "We all die, every moment of every day."

Harry leaned back, pulling his chin away from Severus's fingers. "I don't want to hear the rationalizations of a Death Eater."

"You've learned a new word, I see."

Harry flushed, looking down again. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean that. I didn't mean to call you that, Severus."

Severus caught his hands, holding him before he could flee. "I have killed, and you know it. I have killed more men than you know, and they died around me in a field littered with corpses. I condemned your parents to death, and you would have died too, except for –"

"The Prophecy," Harry said. "I know you don't believe in it, but I ... I don't know. What if it is true?"

"We make choices and decide our own destiny, Harry. I chose to do the things that I have done – the bad as well as the good. Voldemort has made his own choices and set his own fate. So has Lucius, so have we all. Ignore the Prophecy. It's only as true as you make it come true."

Harry leaned forward again, freeing his hands to put them on Severus's jaw, tilting his chin and studying his face from all angles. "How'd you get to be so wise?"

"I was born that way," Severus said, and he caught his lip between his teeth to stop from smiling when Harry coughed on his half-formed laughter, spluttering and smiling.

"You were," Harry said. He smiled, leaning closer to Severus, lips poised as if for a kiss. "I'm not afraid anymore."

Severus hesitated before asking the question, but he looked at Harry's eyes, bright with laughter, and asked in a low, careful tone of voice, "What changed?"

"I'm not some hothouse flower," Harry said. "I know that you think they abused me – the Dursleys, I mean – and I suppose they did, in a way. They never touched me, and I was just ... they were always touching Dudley, hugging him and so on, and they never touched me.

"After awhile, I was afraid to let it happen – afraid to let them hug me and love me. Uncle Vernon tried to cuff me on the back of the head once, and he was zapped by some kind of electric shock – ever since then, I haven't wanted anyone to touch me. I wasn't sure that they wouldn't be hurt."

"Harry ..."

"I didn't understand about the magic. I didn't understand anything until you brought me into this world, until you explained everything to me." He took Severus's face in his hands, holding it steady. Like the whisper of a ghost, like the breath of a flower, Harry kissed him on the cheek. It was the brush of skin against skin, nothing magical at all – and yet Severus's skin crackled with the force of the kiss.

"I can touch people without hurting them now," Harry said, "now that you've taught me how to control my magic – you and the Aurors and everybody who's been tutoring me. I should have learned a long time ago."

"You have a lot of years to make up for then," Severus said, dropping his shields enough to tease him, and Harry winked, leaning into his touch.

Harry Potter, healthy and impudent in his arms, reaching out to touch him – Severus leaned closer, looking into his eyes. The brush of mind against mind was like a feather floating down to the water, like sunlight trapped in the surface of a still lake.

Joy, unfiltered and glowing – a fat man who yelled – the sinuous coils of a snake, warm pressure around his arm, hissing – darkness and spiders – a teacup rattling, an uncontrolled outburst of magic – friends, a warm room, alcohol passed around in a flask while they laughed – Harry jerked in Severus's arms, pushing him away. "What was that?"

Severus fell in deeper, past the sun-shot and sparkling surface to the deep waters beneath. He wove the web of his thoughts into a pointed spear, slipping through Harry's mind with ease. "What was what?"

Cold arms wrapped around knobby knees, flashes of green light, waking from a nightmare – another exam failed, the teacher's curvy penmanship displayed to his family, their satisfaction – weeding in the garden, back bent and arms sore from repetition and sweat – the snake, its hissing intelligible now, curling around Harry's arm and promising, promising –

"Stop that."

Harry jerked and shuddered, shoving Severus out of his mind. "What are you doing? Why are you doing that to me?"

"Harry –" Severus stretched a hand out to him, letting it hang between them. His heartbeat ringing in his ears, the borrowed memory of Harry – his Harry – speaking to a snake flashing through his mind, he tried and discarded trickery after trickery before he spoke. "Harry, it's nothing. It's just a mental connection between the two of us – I had to know that you weren't going to toy with me and then reject me."

Harry fell under his spell then, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to each finger. "I would never do that to you."

"I haven't saved you for this," Severus said.

"I know. This is my choice – we all choose our own destiny, you said."

He smiled, and Severus sealed the grin on his face with a kiss. Falling into Harry's embrace was falling into warmth, into sunlight. He rested his chin on Harry's shoulder and held him, rocking him to the rhythm of his heartbeat. "We all choose our own destiny."

-------

part five