Harry, Ron and Hermione were eating breakfast in the Great Hall on the Saturday before Easter. Most of the other students had left for the break so the hall was nearly empty. Those with proper families had gone home on the Hogwarts Express to London. From there they would travel on, scattering in all directions to different parts of the country. Harry's friends had stayed at Hogwarts with him, and Harry was glad of it. He was already feeling really upset after learning about Sirius Black's role in his personal history - how the man was his godfather and should have been Harry's supporter, but instead Black was the reason his parents were dead. It had been awful, and Harry still felt quite sick when he thought about it. Now, Harry knew Black was after him, and the man had managed to get into Hogwarts twice so far, first attacking the Fat Lady's portrait trying to get into Gryffindor common room, and worse, in February he'd somehow got into their dorm and slashed Ron's bed curtains. That was too close for comfort, and Harry was living in a state of fear which he worked hard to hide from everyone.
This morning he was forcing himself to sit here and eat, because Hermione kept insisting that it would 'settle his stomach to have something inside it'. Harry wondered how long the food would stay inside, but so far, so good.
An owl landed on the Gryffindor table and stuck out its leg. It was sticking the leg toward Harry, who looked momentarily taken aback. Who would have written to him?
"Well, take it," Ron prompted, elbowing Harry to make him move. "The poor bird will fall over if you leave it like that."
Harry grinned sheepishly and took the note. He unrolled the small scroll:
Dear Harry,
Please come and see me in my office after breakfast.
Albus Dumbledore.
Short and to the point. "Dumbledore wants to see me in his office."
"Oh, right. I wonder why he's not at breakfast this morning. Anyway, you go there and Ron and I will start in the library," Hermione said. "We need to get started on revising for the end of year exams."
Ron nodded; for once he didn't try talking with his mouth full of sausage and beans. Harry was grateful, he wasn't sure he could have coped with the sight and held onto his nervous stomach. He concentrated on his toast and marmite instead; sipping tea carefully between each mouthful he was glad to discover he was getting away with it.
"Sit down, Harry. I know you've just finished breakfast so I won't offer you any tea. But would you like a sherbet lemon?" Dumbledore extended the small glass bowl filled with sweets.
"Thanks," Harry said, taking one. They were so sharp and lemony they made his mouth water. But the best bit was when you got to the middle, when the last of the boiled sweet dissolved away and your mouth was suddenly full of fizzing sherbet. It was always a shock, even to a child used to magical sweets. Harry wondered if Dumbledore's sherbet lemons were special, magical versions or if Dumbledore bought the Muggle type Harry had seen on sale in the sweet shop in Little Whinging. Harry couldn't tell, as he'd never had the money to buy any sweets in Surrey and so didn't know what the Muggle ones were like.
"Now, Harry, I've called you here because I know you must be especially concerned about the problem of Sirius Black. I know you are aware of what he's really doing hanging around Hogwarts at this time."
The old man's clear blue eyes fixed on Harry's, and Harry couldn't look away. "He's after me," he mumbled around his sherbet lemon.
"He is indeed. And it is my job, as Headmaster of this school and in loco parentis, to ensure your safety. That is no easy task. And it has been made far more difficult by your regrettable habit of wandering."
Harry's eyes widened. Snape must have told the headmaster that Harry's head was seen in Hogsmeade last Hogsmeade weekend. Trust him, always trying to get Harry into trouble. As if he'd read Harry's mind, Dumbledore continued: "You have had a few too many close calls lately, Harry. Even a Gryffindor's luck runs out sometime, you know. I have trusted you on many occasions, but I fear you have continued to act rashly at times."
Harry looked down at his hands in his lap. He was feeling bad now. It wasn't his breakfast, or his lemon sweet, it was guilt. He had carried on doing what he liked and ignored the safety measures put in place for him. "I won't do it again, sir," he assured the headmaster.
"I am pleased to hear you say that, Harry. But I will be even more certain of your safety with the help of some magic."
Harry's eyes shot up again, looking curiously at Dumbledore. He was a little scared about what the old man might mean. Would he be locked in Gryffindor Tower? Surely not the dungeons! Or maybe a spell would just keep him inside the castle.
"You see, Harry, I have pondered long and hard about the best way to ensure your safety while you are growing up," Dumbledore explained. "It is my job to make sure you are safe until you come of age, but that is more than four years away. And, as previously mentioned, you have made my task quite difficult. But finally I believe I have found the best way to do this. I have decided that you will be surrounded with a special kind of magic, a kind that will form a protective cocoon around you, that will keep you safe from attack while letting a responsible adult know where you are at all times."
Harry's heart had fallen to his boots by now. He was right - it was some sort of monitoring spell, he was going to be a prisoner. No more after-curfew wanderings under his dad's cloak, no more trips to Hogsmeade along the secret passage that led to Honeydukes' cellar. Worst of all, there would be no more getting his own back on that prat Malfoy. He raised his eyes again and looked at Dumbledore, his face no doubt showing his dread. But Dumbledore's eyes were fixed on him, steady and determined; those eyes told Harry that he might as well save his breath, whatever Dumbledore had decided, that was what was going to happen.
As Dumbledore continued to explain, Harry sat rather numbly watching him, listening to him, but not really taking it all in. Whatever it was, it was bad news, and that was all he needed to know.
"The spell is a modified bonding spell, sometimes used in medieval times to keep a partner faithful while his or her husband was away," Dumbledore was saying. "Think of it as a kind of magical chastity belt, if you wish. The spell is called the Inhibeo Tutis bond, the meaning of the Latin is 'to hold in safety'.
"Can you see how ideal it is for you, Harry? You will always be safe; your bond-partner will feel if you are in trouble of any kind and will immediately come to your assistance. Better still, you will be supported by an older, stronger wizard, someone you can ask for anything. He will be closer to you than anyone in your world at present; as close as your parents would have been."
The word 'parents' got through Harry's mind-fog. He'd always wanted that, wanted someone who would be like other people's parents. He looked up. "Does that mean I won't have to go back to the Dursleys'?"
"Precisely so, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling broadly. "You will be with your bonded partner from now on. The Dursleys will have no say in your life once you are legally bonded. And that is another reason why it is important for me to choose a strong wizard to be your partner, someone whose power and presence can give you the same sort of protection the blood wards always did at Privet Drive."
Harry was smiling now. It sounded so good: to be free of the Dursleys, to have someone who would be like a parent. He looked at Dumbledore, who smiled back seeing how happy the boy looked. "You're talking about yourself, aren't you, Professor?" Harry asked the old wizard. "You're strong enough to protect me." It wouldn't be too bad being protected by Dumbledore. Voldemort genuinely feared the man, and he had never been awful to Harry, even when Harry had disappointed him.
Dumbledore was still smiling when he answered, but his words wiped the smile from Harry's face. "No, Harry, I am too old. I am strong enough, you are right about that, but my future is not as sure and certainly will not last as long as I would like your partner's to be. I needed to choose a mature, but relatively young man who will be with you for many years to come. He will be able to help you; he will guide you into adulthood and beyond. For even in your maturity I would like to think of you with your partner, for he will be able to guide and mentor you throughout your life. The bond assures it will be so, and so it is good that your personalities complement and support each other. Together, you two will be more powerful than either of you alone; the whole will be greater than the sum of the parts."
Harry had no clue what Dumbledore was on about now, he sounded like he was talking about Arithmancy, or something. But it didn't matter; there was only one thing that mattered now: "So who is it? And when do we have to do the spell?"
"You have to understand that there were not many suitable candidates, Harry. There are few men I trust so implicitly."
Harry looked at the headmaster, wondering why he didn't just come out with it and say the name. Why all this beating about the bush? "Who?" he asked again in a small voice, beginning to dread the answer.
"Professor Snape, Harry."
What? He can't have heard right! Is that why Dumbledore was dithering about, wrapping it all up in fancy words? "No, please, not him. I couldn't bear it." To have Snape knowing exactly where Harry was at all times, what he was doing. And Snape could never be his dad! No, it was beyond bearing.
Dumbledore spoke again, and while his voice was kindly there was no compromise in his words. "Professor Snape is a strong wizard, Harry, and he is young enough, only thirty-four years of age. Young enough and powerful enough to keep you safe, first from Sirius Black, and then from anything that might threaten you, including the folly of your sometimes over-rash Gryffindor ways. You will be safe. At present, you are very much not safe; your life, and the fate of the Wizarding world, is in the balance."
"But-"
"Please, Harry," Dumbledore said, playing his trump card. He knew Harry, knew the boy always tried to keep others happy. Harry never denied pleas. "Don't do it for me, don't do it for the Wizarding world, but do it for yourself."
Harry looked into worried blue eyes; the headmaster had never looked like that, and it scared him. Dumbledore had always been there for him, always supported him, even though Harry knew now that he'd been a hard task, running around like he'd been doing. If Dumbledore was so worried, perhaps this really had to be done. If it would take away the look in those eyes… "If I must."
"You should, Harry," Dumbledore said. "But you must consent properly."
Harry nodded. Dumbledore seemed to be waiting, so he spoke the words that would remove ambiguity, and at the same time remove his freedom: "I will do it, Headmaster."
Dumbledore's face crinkled into a smile again, his eyes twinkled with pleasure and not anxiety. "Then I will arrange the bonding, Harry. I will do the spell myself, with Minerva's help. She will know about this, and she will be able to support you, but she must be the only other person who does. Our best defence is secrecy and surprise."
"Can't I tell my friends?" Harry didn't think he could keep all this to himself, he'd let something out, say something, and Hermione would pester him, and anyway he needed someone to talk to.
Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a while before answering. "You may tell Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, but only them. It certainly should not become common knowledge. Now, run along, I'm sure your friends are wondering where you are by now. I will get everything sorted out, don't worry."
Harry stood up.
"Oh, and do take another sherbet lemon, Harry."
Harry grabbed a sweet from the dish, opened the wrapper and popped it in his mouth. He needed to do something with his tongue, or he might just start to scream.
"What did the headmaster want?" Ron asked, looking up in relief as Harry entered. He had a particularly large and dusty-looking volume lying open in front of him.
Hermione looked up too when Harry didn't answer straight away. Madam Pince could be heard moving around the library, checking on her precious books. Harry had often wondered if the woman spent time anywhere else besides the library and the Great Hall. Perhaps the staff meetings, he supposed, but that was stretching it. She even looked like she was made of parchment herself, with her pale skin and ink-stained fingers.
"Harry?" Hermione prompted. "What's wrong?"
"Let's go back to the common room," Harry said. "I need to talk to you."
Ron was greatly cheered by that. "Just give me a moment, I'll put these books back," he said, taking Hermione's from her and disappearing into the rows of shelves.
For once, Hermione didn't argue. She stood and went over to Harry, putting her hand on his arm. "Something's up, isn't it?"
Harry just nodded. When Ron returned Harry led his friends back to their common room, where they could be fairly sure of not being overheard. For all Harry knew, Madam Pince could be a staff spy.
Once seated on chairs around the common room fire, Harry began to tell his story. "I think Snape must have told Dumbledore about me being in Hogsmeade. Dumbledore wasn't happy, said it was difficult keeping me safe because I keep wandering off."
"Well, you do," Hermione said.
"Yeah, but you've got us!" Ron protested.
"Oh, like that would help if the Death Eaters came there," Hermione scoffed. "We should be more careful."
"No need," Harry said morosely. "It won't happen again. From now on Snape will know exactly where I am, at all times."
"Eh?" Ron sounded horrified. "Is he going to follow you or something?"
"No," Harry said, his heart sinking even lower as he vocalised the dreadful truth: "He's going to be bonded to me."
"What?" Hermione positively squawked. "You mean bonded, like… married?"
"No. Nonononono," was all Ron could say.
"That's what bonding is, Harry," Hermione told him, switching to lecture mode. "It's a form of marriage."
"I know," Harry said, before his friend could expand on her theme. "I know that. Dumbledore said it was a sort of bond they used in the Middle Ages, to keep an eye on the junior party of the bond, er… well, something like that."
"The Middle Ages?" Ron's voice sounded weak and he was looking very pale, except for his freckles, which stood out like a leopard's spots.
"Yeah."
"What's this bond called?" Hermione wanted to know.
"Um. Something Tutis," Harry said.
"Oh, Harry, you must remember! There are loads of types of bonds and they all work a little differently. We need to know which one this is and why they're doing this."
"We need to stop it, that's what we need to do!" Ron said, pulling himself together a bit. "How can Harry be bonded to the Greasy Git? He hates him! And anyway, Snape's old!"
"Don't be so foolish, Ron," Hermione snapped. "Professor Snape was in the same year as Harry's parents and Professor Lupin; he's only thirty-four."
"What I said," Ron insisted. "He's old. Old enough to be Harry's dad!" Harry was shaking his head, so Ron sympathised. "I know, mate, it's awful."
"No, you don't understand." Harry's voice was dull, almost lifeless. "I have to do it, I promised Dumbledore. It's to keep me safe. He said it was the only way. I've got to live to come of age, that's what he said, and this bond will let Snape know straight away if I'm in trouble. And he's powerful enough to help me, to protect me. And there weren't many people Dumbledore could trust, so he said."
"It's beyond me why he trusts that git," Ron mumbled.
"You know Professor Snape has always protected Harry," Hermione chided. "Don't lets go through all this again, please, Ron."
"I thought Dumbledore was talking about himself at first," Harry continued. "Saying it needed a powerful, trustworthy wizard. Then he said he was too old."
"Urgh, yes," Ron agreed fervently. "He's as old as the castle, near enough."
Hermione clucked her tongue, but Harry gave Ron a wry grin. "Yeah, that would be pretty bad. I mean, Snape's old enough to be my dad, but what would Dumbledore be?"
"Your great-great-great-great granddad!" Ron crowed. "But at least you'd get plenty of sweets, even if you had to sit on his lap!"
"Oh, for goodness sake, let's be serious," Hermione said. She was already flicking through a large reference book from the common room bookshelf. She ran her finger down the index, looking for the word 'tutis'. "Tutis means 'safe', or something along those lines," she mused. "I suppose this bond is to keep you safe."
"That's what Dumbledore said," Harry agreed. "But he never said anything about it being a marriage. You're joking about that bit, right? I mean, there must be other sorts of bonds that haven't got anything to do with marriage."
"No, as far as I know they're all like marriage contracts," Ron said.
"But I'm only thirteen!" Harry said. "You can't get married at thirteen."
"Actually, in the Wizarding world, you can," Hermione piped up. "The age of consent laws have never been passed here. Many of those medieval bonds were used on quite young children, and even later in history too. Thirteen wouldn't be considered too young at all. And besides, I don't think Snape's married, so he could marry you."
"Urgh," Ron said again, which was his opinion on the idea of Snape being married. "No one would marry him."
"Shut up, Ron," Harry snapped. "I've got to. To be safe. Some idea of safe that is! I think being captured by Death Eaters couldn't be much worse."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes. "They'd torture you; pull out your fingernails or something. Snape will only protect you."
"Yeah, and kiss you," Ron said, less than helpfully.
"Exactly," Harry said. "Nothing between those options really, is there?"
"Are you sure you can't remember the other part of the bond's name?" Hermione asked, frustrated, and determined to avoid the boys' silly banter.
"No, it was all a bit of a blur," Harry said. "Once Dumbledore mentioned Snape I sort of lost it."
"Understandable," Ron commiserated, patting Harry on the shoulder. "You really have the worst luck in the wizarding world, don't you, mate?"
Hermione kept looking, while Ron spent time distracting Harry, first taking him out to fly their broomsticks around the Quidditch pitch, then playing a game of chess, then taking him up to the dorm to find his secret stash of sweets. It was an emergency, or Ron would never have offered Harry his last jelly snake, but he felt so sorry for Harry that he did just that. Harry took it, and fighting the rubbery confection as he ate it distracted him for a while. But by the time they had to pack up and head off for dinner, he was looking morose again.
Neither Dumbledore nor Snape was at the High Table, which was sparsely occupied in the holidays. Harry wondered if they were sorting things out, and felt rather scared about that. He picked at his food; Ron ate hungrily as normal, and Hermione ate while keeping her eye on Harry. It was unnerving, knowing this was something Harry had to do - on Dumbledore's advice - but not knowing what it was. Hermione hated not knowing.
"There is one good thing," Harry said, perking up a bit and reaching for the brown sauce.
"What?" Ron paused in his assault on the mashed potatoes.
"I don't have to go back to the Dursleys."
"Great!" Ron said, waving his fork in emphasis.
"That's good, Harry," Hermione smiled across encouragingly. "Where will you go instead?"
"I've no idea," Harry admitted. "But even if Snape lives in a dunghill, it will be better than the Dursleys'."
There was a soft 'whup' as an owl landed in front of them, just the same as this morning. In fact it was the same owl, but Harry was quicker taking the note and the bird was in no danger of toppling over this time. Hermione gave it a piece of sausage from her bangers and mash, and the bird took it and left. No reply needed, then.
Dear Harry,
Please come to my office at 8pm. Alone.
Everything is prepared.
Albus Dumbledore.
Ron's eyes widened as he saw Harry's face lose its colour. Hermione softly asked: "What is it?"
"I have to go to the headmaster's office at eight, Hermione. He says everything is ready." Harry swallowed a lump in his throat that had nothing to do with his meal. He put his knife and fork down, unable to eat another bite. It was too early to go up to the office, but Ron and Hermione were looking worriedly at him now, and Harry knew if they started to ask him questions he'd crack. He had promised Dumbledore, and so now he had to do it, but they would make him feel unsure, tell him that he shouldn't or couldn't be doing this. He wasn't going to risk that, so he stood up. "I'm just going for a walk. I should think this through; meditate a bit beforehand, that sort of thing."
"Do you want company?" Ron asked, looking regretfully at the puddings which were just popping into existence on the table.
Harry knew Ron would have come with him if he asked, but it wasn't what he needed. "No, I need time to think. You stay, finish your meals. I'll see you both later," he said, sounding reassuring, sounding confident. He headed off and his two friends watched him go. Hermione was saying something to Ron, but they made no move to follow him. It was hard for Harry to keep his head up, to appear carefree while his insides felt like they were crumbling. He managed it until he was through the doors and out into the hallway. He speeded up in case his friends decided to come after him, and headed for the corridor that led to the DADA classroom, where there should be no one hanging around and he could be alone and just think. As he hurried along his breath hitched and he gave an odd gulping sound, refusing to admit it was a sob. He could do this, it wouldn't be so awful, he'd just do this bonding and then he wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys' - think how good that would be. Think of the good things, of being safe, safe from Sirius Black, safe from the Dementors, from Voldemort and his followers. The headmaster knew what was best for Harry, had always known. It was a simple matter really: did he trust Dumbledore? And yes, he did, with his life. So if Dumbledore said he should do this, he would.
Harry's tummy was settling down a bit as he came to this decision. He'd already accepted all this, just seeing Ron and Hermione, hearing their reactions, had made him doubt himself. He wasn't going to do that any more. He'd be fine.
Harry perched on the wide windowsill at the end of the corridor. It was a nice place to sit and look out. It was dark outside at this time of year, but he could feel the Hogwarts' grounds surrounding him, keeping him safe, or trying to. Because even Hogwarts hadn't been safe from Sirius Black. He could see the twinkling lights of Hagrid's windows. This place was home. Hogwarts was his safe haven from the Dursleys, and now he'd be free of them, forever. Wherever Snape lived would be better than being shut in a cupboard, or shoved in a room behind locks and bars, forgotten as if he was in a cell in Azkaban. Snape was going to look after him, to be a responsible adult, what was it Dumbledore had said? In loco parentis. In the place of his parents. That made Harry smile into the dark night, because for once he'd be normal. He'd have someone to sign his school forms, someone to buy his school things with him. Maybe Snape would buy him some clothes… how cool would that be? Harry had never been clothes shopping. But then, Snape didn't look like much of a shopper, but still, maybe he'd take Harry once or twice, near Christmas or his birthday, perhaps.
The Dursleys had said such hateful things to him, all his life. Uncle Vernon had shoved him, dragged him by the hair, treated him worse than a dog, really. But Snape had never really hurt him; he'd protected him often enough. True, he had spoken to Harry and looked at him as if he hated him, and mocked his father too, and in all that he was just as bad as the Dursleys, but maybe that would change when they were bonded. Snape couldn't be like that at home, could he? And it was no worse than the way the Dursleys treated him: bullying him, calling him a freak, making him work and not giving him new clothes or even the simplest gift on his birthday or at Christmas. And there were three of the Dursleys all being horrible to Harry in turns, and sometimes all together, but there was only one of Snape. Snape might be considered as bad as any three Muggles by Ron, but Ron had never had to live in a cupboard. No, life with Snape could only be an improvement on Privet Drive, however sarcastic the man could be.
Trust Dumbledore, Harry. Just trust Dumbledore.
Harry kept looking at his watch from time to time. When the hands read ten to eight he got up. He felt a lot calmer now. He'd accepted what he had to do. If he'd stayed with his friends he wouldn't have been able to do that. Harry started to walk towards the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's fantastic office. When he saw it, he noticed that Professor Snape was standing outside, like an extra, black gargoyle. He felt awful for thinking about the man like that - the man was going to be his husband, sort of. But really, he did look like that, with that fierce look on his face, those black eyes and that beak of a nose.
Snape turned to him when he got close. "I'm glad you're on time, Potter. Quite pleasantly surprised, in fact." He said the password to the gargoyle - "Flying Saucers" - with a twist of his lips. Harry smiled; amused at the thought that maybe Dumbledore chose his passwords to annoy Snape. Snape looked suspiciously at Harry's smile, but he said nothing. He gestured with his hand for Harry to precede him up the stairs. At the top, Snape went ahead and opened the door to the office.
Dumbledore wasn't sitting at his desk; he was standing in the centre of the room, smiling at them as they entered. Professor McGonagall was standing next to him; she looked very solemn.
"Welcome, Severus and Harry," Dumbledore said, holding his hands out to them. Snape took Harry's arm and led him closer to the Headmaster, who took hold of one of their hands in each of his. "It is so good to see you together. Believe me, my boys, this is for the best. For both of you," he said, emphasising this to Snape, who said nothing in reply.
"If it will keep Harry safe…" McGonagall said, sounding less convinced.
"It will, Minerva, it will," Dumbledore insisted. "For you know, even in Gryffindor Tower he was at risk when Sirius Black broke in. This way, he will be less vulnerable, you know that." McGonagall sighed, but she gave a brief nod, acknowledging the truth of this.
"Now, Harry," Dumbledore carried on, "you will probably not be aware of the form of the bonding ceremony. It is quite simple; almost ridiculously simple in fact, as much of the ancient, powerful magic is. You and Severus will say your vows; I will bind your wand hands together, seal the binding with a spell. While bonded thus you will kiss, the bonds will dissolve, and that is that." Dumbledore was smiling widely.
Harry wasn't so sure it could be that simple. It sounded almost too easy; he'd been half-expecting some long Latin incantation and maybe some blood-letting. "Um. Are the vows in English?" he wondered aloud.
"Yes, Harry. You just copy what Severus says. It's not complicated, I assure you."
Okay… it could be worse. All he had to do was say some words and then… Snape would kiss him. Or he would kiss Snape. Or something. Ugh. He could just hear Ron's exclamation of disgust. But really, Harry thought, looking nervously at Snape, the man didn't look that greasy up close. Perhaps he'd had a wash in honour of the ceremony. Harry wanted to giggle, so he bit his lip instead to prevent it, because Snape would probably get nasty if he thought Harry was making fun of him.
"Minerva is the witness, I am the other witness and the celebrant," Dumbledore was saying. Harry shook himself to take notice. "And that is all there is to it. After, you will be safe, Harry. The bond will wrap you in a cocoon of safety, that is the special characteristic of Inhibeo Tutis."
"And no more Dursleys?" Harry clarified.
"No, never again," Dumbledore confirmed.
Snape turned and looked at Harry. So far he'd been staring straight ahead like a statue. "Dursleys?"
"Harry's Muggle relatives," Minerva explained. "He has never got along with them."
Snape's eyebrow rose and Harry waited for him to say something sarcastic, like he wasn't surprised, or Harry wouldn't get along with anyone, but surprisingly, he didn't. Instead he said: "No more Dursleys then. You will be with me, Harry. Forever."
Harry's eyes widened. He knew that. Of course he did. But when Snape said it in that deep, sepulchral voice, it sounded so ominous. And Snape had used his name, rather than calling him 'Potter'. Snape was looking at him now, and it was so odd, because Snape's face wasn't fierce any more, in fact he was trying to smile. Harry's lips parted, but he couldn't think of a thing to say. Snape held out his right hand. "Give me your wand hand, Harry."
Harry held out his right hand and they stood there as if they were shaking hands, as if they'd just met each other. And it felt oddly like that too, because Harry had never met this smiling Snape before.
The headmaster spoke again. "Dear friends, we are here to witness the bonding of Severus Tobias Snape and Harry James Potter, who have joined hands in preparation for the joining of their lives."
Dumbledore looked at Snape, who then spoke: "Harry James Potter, I pledge myself to you, to care for you, to protect you, to be ever-present through our bond, and to remain faithful to you throughout life. This pledge is given freely and will last as long as my life. I swear this on my magic." Having said this, he slipped a small, gold ring on Harry's wedding finger. Harry hadn't been expecting this, and he looked down with interest. The ring looked nice; it made him feel grown up to be wearing a wedding ring.
Dumbledore smiled happily, then indicated that Harry should repeat the words. "Er… Severus Tobias Snape," Harry began, feeling so weird because he was using Snape's names, it was even weird enough just to know them, but saying them was distracting. "Um, I pledge myself to you, to…" He'd forgotten the blasted words, this was so confusing.
McGonagall whispered behind him. "Care for you, protect you, be ever-present…"
Harry pulled himself together. "To care for you, to protect you, to be ever-present through our bond."
"And to remain faithful," McGonagall hissed.
Harry nodded and continued, "and to remain faithful to you throughout life." Really, he wished they'd have given him the words to learn, he was too nervous to remember them for five seconds.
"This pledge is given freely…" McGonagall prompted again.
"This pledge is given freely and will last as long as my life. I swear this on my magic," Harry finished, remembering how Snape had pledged that and knowing what a serious pledge it was for a wizard to swear on his magic. If he broke the vows, he would lose some or all of his powers, depending on the seriousness of the transgression.
McGonagall handed Harry a plain gold ring and Harry slipped it onto Severus' ring finger. The rings magically sized to the wearer, and Harry decided it looked very nice on Snape's long, elegant finger.
Snape was still holding Harry's hand, not tightly, but closely, and Harry realised it wasn't time to let go yet. Snape's hand wasn't cold, wasn't sticky or greasy, it was just warm. Just like holding hands with Ron or Hermione, Harry realised, amazed at the normality of being touched by Snape, who'd always seemed unlike other humans somehow. But he wasn't, he was just a man like any other. Harry looked into the dark eyes that hadn't wavered, had watched him throughout the giving of his vows. Snape must think he was such a fool, needing all that prompting, but he hadn't snorted or laughed at Harry.
Dumbledore approached; he was holding a silvery-white ribbon in his hands. He started wrapping it around their joined hands. It was just like a girl's hair ribbon, but Harry could feel a tingle of magic running through it. The ribbon wrapped around and around, reminding Harry of a mummy's bandages. Dumbledore finished at the level of their wrists, tying the ends in a simple knot.
"By my magic, by the powers of all wizards and the ancient ceremonies of the people of Merlin, I call upon the gods and goddesses of this world to look down at this pledging and to bless these men. Severus Tobias Snape," Dumbledore said, looking into Snape's eyes, "your life is now dedicated to Harry James Potter, to keep him safe and oversee all his acts, and to be faithful to him in everything. Harry James Potter," Dumbledore turned to Harry, his blue eyes holding Harry's gaze, "from this moment on your life is overseen by Severus Tobias Snape, he will keep you safe at all times and be faithful to you. In return, you will obey him; you will serve him and be faithful to him in all things."
Dumbledore stepped back, looked at them both, and said, "Be joined."
And Snape leaned towards Harry. "Look at me, Harry," he said, as Harry was still looking at Dumbledore and McGonagall, who both looked very solemn. He turned and saw Snape's dark gaze; this time the man's eyes were glittering with something - excitement, intensity, something Harry couldn't name. Snape leaned down and Harry realised he was going to kiss him. He gasped in surprise and his mouth opened. Snape took the opportunity and kissed him.
Harry's mind was reeling. He could never remember being kissed, not once, not even by Mrs Weasley when she hugged him. It was warm, and moist, and unlike anything he'd ever known. So personal. Snape was his family now, like a parent, and this was just proving it. Snape was doing things no one had ever done, accepting Harry, almost like he was loving him, like his dad and mum would have done. Snape's tongue traced the shape of Harry's lips, tickling them a little, and Harry wanted to mewl. It felt nice. Snape was drawing back now, standing straight again. Harry looked up, his mouth still open a little, as he tried to process what had happened. His hand tingled and he looked down. The last traces of the ribbons were dissolving somehow, seeming to sink into their skin. Snape was still holding his hand, still looking at him when he lifted his eyes back up to the man.
"Inhibeo Tutis," Snape said clearly.
Harry opened his mouth to repeat the phrase but Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's arm to draw his attention. The old man shook his head slightly, and Harry closed his mouth.
"Congratulations," Professor McGonagall said, stepping forward and hugging Harry. "You'll be safe now, Potter. I'm relieved and happy for you."
She shook hands with Snape, saying no more than, "Congratulations, Severus."
Snape gave her a curt nod. Dumbledore then slapped the happy couple on the back. "Come, let us celebrate this bonding, which is for the benefit of all present." He handed around small glasses of golden liquid. The glasses were slender and curvy, they looked a bit like the crystal bud vase Aunt Petunia had in her lounge for her best rose from the garden - the one Harry had to dust very, very carefully or Uncle Vernon would beat him black and blue if it got broken. Harry took his delicate-looking glass very carefully and lifted the drink to his lips as the others did; he was following, unsure how to behave. The drink smelled of honey.
Snape spoke quietly to him. "It's mead, Harry. I think you'll like it. Sip it."
Harry nodded and took a sip. It tasted very strong to him, but it tasted a bit like it smelled, there was honey there. The drink warmed his tongue and as he swallowed he could feel it slip down inside him, spreading warmth all the way. He decided he quite liked it and sipped it a little at a time, listening to the headmaster, McGonagall and Snape chatting. Snape sounded a bit tense, a bit snappy. The headmaster seemed as happy as Harry had ever seen him, as happy as he'd been when Gryffindor won the House Cup last year. McGonagall was polite, and she relaxed a little as she drank her mead, but she seemed a little off somehow. Harry just stood there, feeling very small next to them, very young. He realised Snape was much younger than the other two, but he looked so tall, so forbidding in those black robes. Except he'd been quite nice in here, had prompted Harry about the mead. Perhaps he wasn't going to be awful all the time; it really wouldn't be like class.
"Well, I'd best get on," McGonagall said, putting her empty glass on a little table. "Congratulations to both of you once more," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Albus." With a nod, she left the office.
Dumbledore watched her go with a small smile. "Apart from your two friends, Harry, only those who were at the ceremony should know about this, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Harry confirmed.
"It is very important," Dumbledore added, his blue eyes fixing Harry's and holding them. And Harry knew that if Dumbledore was emphasising it, then dreadful things would happen if he disobeyed. He nodded. "And so," the headmaster continued, "it is good this is happening in the school break, there is more privacy. It is time for you to go with your husband, Harry." Dumbledore was smiling.
"Oh," Harry put his glass down, a little surprised to see it was empty. He felt warm inside, but his hand shook a little now. "Er, husband?"
"What did you think I was going to be, Potter?" Snape asked sardonically. "Your nursemaid?"
"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore chided. "In private you should always call him Harry."
"But, but," Harry was saying, shaking his head, "he's a man!"
"Oh, well done, Potter," Snape snarked. "That has probably taken you the past two years to sort out. It is good to see Hogwarts' education is not being wasted on you."
"Severus!" Dumbledore said rather fiercely, "I must ask you to treat Harry as your husband, in all ways. That means with respect and kindness, not sarcasm, which should have no place in your married life."
Snape's face tightened. Harry thought he might have imagined it, but the man looked ashamed. When Snape spoke, Harry hadn't been expecting the meekness of the reply. "You're right, Albus. In all ways, of course." He turned to Harry and extended a long-fingered hand. "Please come with me, Harry. We have much to talk about, and much to accomplish. I'd like to show you your room."
Harry's mouth was agape again. He took Snape's hand for the second time that evening, and it wasn't so shocking to him this time. Snape was a man, and he was very human; his hand was soft and warm, but strong too. "I have a room? Won't I live in the dorms?"
"Your housemates will be told the dormitory is no longer safe for you. Following the attack on the Fat Lady that will be believable, even if it will look as if it has taken us a while to do this. They will be told you are sleeping in secure accommodation, which, of course, you will be," Snape smirked.
Harry was feeling off-balance, rather wobbly. Everything seemed to be changing; it was all out of his control. But then again, Snape was the one in control now, so it didn't really matter, he just had to do what Snape said and he'd be safe, that was all.
"Now come," Severus said, pulling Harry gently by the hand.
Harry followed along mechanically, unable to think sensibly after everything that had happened this evening. Snape was taking him somewhere, to his new room; he wouldn't see Ron and Hermione again this evening, and he'd told them he would see them after. Maybe they'd been told Harry wasn't coming back to the dorm by now, Dumbledore and Snape seemed to have arranged everything pretty well. And McGonagall knew too because she'd been at the ceremony, so she'd probably tell Ron and Hermione, she could be talking to them right now. The thought made Harry feel a bit better.
Snape led Harry through the corridors away from Dumbledore's office, along a route Harry didn't recognise. Perhaps it was just for teachers or something. It felt odd, having Snape drawing him along like this, and holding hands like they were great friends. No, it was like Snape was his dad. Snape was his replacement family, the responsible adult he'd never had in his life, because the Dursleys just hadn't wanted the responsibility of Harry, and hadn't done any of it right.
Snape's hand was warm and large, it engulfed his own. Harry felt pretty small. Even though he usually hated being told to do things by Snape, tonight Snape was different somehow. And the words he'd thought of earlier kept going through his head - this is to keep you safe, it's to keep you safe, you'll be safe. And Snape had always wanted that for Harry, hadn't he?
They were going down and down, down stairways and steps, along a corridor which sloped down and made the backs of Harry's legs ache when he walked because it was hard to keep upright without running. Down to the bottom of the castle, no, to the dungeons, Harry realised, when they began walking through a dark, stone corridor lit by torches flaring in wall brackets. "The dungeons?"
"My rooms," Snape said, stopping in front of the door to his office.
Harry was panting, still slightly confused, and he failed to hear the password Snape whispered to the door. The door swung open and they went inside; it closed behind them with a hollow boom. The dungeons were so creepy and Harry fought hard not to be affected by the atmosphere here. Snape was still walking, leading him across the room, past Snape's big desk where he sat being scary during detentions. And probably at all other times, too, Harry thought, grinning. Behind, in the corner, there was a flight of stone stairs leading down even deeper below the castle. Harry had never even noticed them before. Snape started down, tugging Harry along. "Where-?"
"My rooms, as I said before, Harry. Come along, we're nearly there."
At the bottom of the stairs a door was spoken to, and this time Harry heard the password: Nebula. Inside was a sitting room with a cheery fire in the hearth. There were comfy-looking armchairs and a settee. Bookshelves covered so many walls it was almost like a library, but there was one wall free of books because it was covered with a tapestry from floor to ceiling. Snape had stopped and released Harry's hand, so Harry took the chance to look at the tapestry. It was a magical tapestry and showed animals against a dark green background.
"The creatures of the Forbidden Forest," Snape said from behind Harry. "All these magical beasts can be seen in different parts of the forest; Hagrid knows where they all live."
Harry watched a silvery unicorn walk between trees, followed by a grey wolf. Harry was a little worried the wolf would attack the unicorn, but it did not. There were other creatures, human-shaped or partly so, like centaurs and dryads, nymphs and sprites. Pixies fluttered about, and there were dark shapes flying among the tops of the trees. Snape put his hands on Harry's shoulders, and they stood together watching the scene change as the creatures moved around. After a while, Snape leaned down so his face was near Harry's ear. "Come, let me show you where everything is. This will be your home after all, Harry."
Home. Oh, that sounded good. Not Privet Drive; no longer would he be sent there in the summer holidays, only a few months away. No more living in a cupboard under the stairs, no more barred windows. Harry smiled up at the man standing next to him.
Snape led him around the sitting room. "The large desk is mine; you may have the smaller one. There are drawers for your private things and you may set a password if you wish. Do not try to open the drawers in my desk, you would find yourself short of a few fingers."
Harry nodded; he walked over to the smaller desk and ran his hand over the warm-coloured wood. He had his own desk for doing homework now. Hermione would be so jealous.
"The shelves behind you are for your use too," Snape continued, indicating three empty bookshelves behind Harry's desk.
"Thank you," Harry said.
"Through here is the kitchen," Snape continued the tour. "You may make tea or sandwiches, whatever you like. I trust you are competent to do that?"
"I cooked for the Dursleys," Harry admitted rather quietly. "I know how to do it. Don't worry; I won't set fire to your rooms."
"Our rooms, Harry," Snape reminded him.
"Yeah, our rooms," Harry muttered. It sounded so odd, that he could share anything with Snape.
"The bathroom," Snape continued, opening a door to a basic bathroom with a white suite consisting of a bath, washbasin and toilet. "And finally," he opened the last door from the sitting room, "the bedroom."
Snape had a huge four-poster bed. It looked really comfortable. Anyone - even Hagrid - would be able to stretch out in there and not fall out the side or lose the covers. Harry had never seen such a big bed. "Wow!"
Snape just stood looking at him, and Harry wondered what he was waiting for. Oh, of course… "And where do I sleep, sir?"
Snape's eyes glittered, Harry thought the man might be trying not to laugh. "In my bed, of course," Snape answered. "Or I should say, in our bed. You can see there's plenty of room."
Harry was shocked. He couldn't move, and so he just stood there, rigid like a plank of wood.
"Come, sit with me and have a glass of wine," Snape continued, shutting the bedroom door and leading Harry back to the settee. "It is our wedding night and we should celebrate."
Snape began opening a bottle of wine that was standing on a low table in front of the hearth. The cheery, flickering flames reflected off its deep green glass. The wine, as it poured, was deep red, red like blood. Harry sat down, but he couldn't take his eyes off the red liquid. He'd never tasted wine; surely it didn't taste like the blood it so resembled? He could almost taste blood in his mouth already and suddenly realised he'd bitten his lips until they had bled a little. When he managed to find his voice again, it was tiny and sounded scared. "W…wedding night?"
Snape handed him a glass of the ruby liquid, smiling. "That is what follows a wedding ceremony, is it not?" Snape raised his glass. "To my husband, Harry," he said. "I hope you will be happy."
Harry just sat there, glass in hand, goggling. Snape was waiting again, looking intently at him. Harry swallowed and raised his glass. "To my husband, Severus," he croaked. "I, um, hope you'll be happy." Just a long way from me, that's all.
Severus smiled approvingly and lifted his glass to his lips. Harry watched as those lips parted and the ruby liquid ran over them, onto Snape's tongue. Snape poked the red-stained tongue out between his lips, licking the last drops off them.
Harry lifted his glass and took a little sip of the wine. It was weird, harsh and fruity, and not sweet at all. It was nothing like pumpkin juice, but then wine was made of grapes. And it was alcohol, and Harry had never been given any of that before, not until the mead in the Headmaster's office. Still, Snape was his husband, he'd just said so, so presumably Harry was now considered grown up enough to drink wine. He swallowed the rich liquid and found his voice again, the croak banished by the drink. "But, sir, I thought it was a bonding to keep me safe, not a wedding."
Snape smiled rather sadly at him. "First, in our rooms, Harry, I want you to call me Severus. I am older than you, but I am not a teacher in here. I'm your husband."
Damn, Harry thought, he likes saying that, doesn't he?
"And second," Snape continued, "bonding is a form of marriage, and much more besides. Surely you realised that?"
Harry shook his head mutely. He was lost now, not sure what he was thinking, what he could think about all this. He felt as if he was floating up on the ceiling, as if none of this was real at all, and he was looking at it like it was a dream.
"Harry, you are my husband. I will keep you safe, you are right about that. I will know where you are and be available to you at all times. I can Apparate instantly to your aid should you need it; indeed, the bond will compel me to do so. That is part of my husbandly duties. But only part. And you have duties too, Harry. One is to respect me, to do as I tell you, for you are the junior partner in this bond. Another is to share my bed."
Harry, who'd been cautiously sipping the wine because it was warming him inside and making him feel as if he was in this room and not drifting off somewhere, spluttered: "What?" His voice had come out like a definite squawk this time.
"You have been in the magical world long enough to know that in return for nothing you get nothing. To gain, you first have to give. You gave me your person, to be my husband; so in return I give you security, and protection, and a constant presence through our bond. Inhibeo Tutis, Harry, 'to keep you in safety'. That is the whole point. It will not work unless we are truly bonded, truly together. To this end, you will come to my bed. Our joining will strengthen the magic. The more we are together, the stronger that protection will be."
"I have to?" Harry asked, sounding plaintive. He hated hearing himself like this. But he couldn't help it. He knew nothing about all this stuff; it was grown-up stuff, far past his knowledge or experience, but he knew that going to bed with someone was serious. He finally understood why he was here in Snape's room, he saw it plainly now. It's to keep you safe, his mind reminded him, but now he knew there was a price to be paid.
Snape nodded, assuring Harry that yes, he had to do it.
"If I have to," Harry said quietly, so quietly that his voice might have been mistaken for the creak of the chair's springs, or the flare of the fire, "I will."
Snape smiled, and the smile was warm, comforting, approving, and… something else. Something scarier. Harry shivered a little. Oh, Merlin! He's going to do something to me, and I really don't know what, but I know it won't be easy. I wish I'd seen this sooner. Not that there was anything Harry could have done to change things, because this was Dumbledore's idea, and Dumbledore had asked Harry to do it, had said 'please'. So Harry had to do it.
Severus leaned forward and put his large, warm hand over Harry's smaller hand where it was clenched on his thigh. "Calm yourself, Harry. I can see such dreadful things in your eyes. Forget them! I will not hurt you. I will care for you and respect you as my husband; I will make everything good for you. It is my role as your husband, and the senior partner in the bond."
Harry nodded dumbly. He hoped it would be all right. At least Snape was talking nicely to him, saying nice things, not the sarcasm he usually used on Harry. Dumbledore had said sarcasm had no place in their bond, and Harry was glad of it. Things were better, he told himself. No Dursleys, no Dursleys. Steeling himself, he said, "I suppose I can stand it once."
Severus smiled at his young husband. Harry was so young, too young really - far too naïve to understand all that was involved. "Oh, no, Harry. Not just once. When our bodies are joined it strengthens the bond. We need that strength to be able to keep such a trouble-magnet as you safe. Now, come." Severus took Harry's hand again and led the boy over to the bedroom door.
Harry followed on legs that felt numb; every part of him felt numb. It was all so weird; he hadn't expected any of this. Two days ago it was different; his whole life was different. Now he was being taken to bed, he was going to have sex, and he didn't know anything about it and didn't want to.
Inside the bedroom, Severus closed the door, warded it with silencing and locking spells. This was serious, it was going to be difficult, but it was necessary. Severus had never shrunk from doing his duty, and Dumbledore had told him this was it. He looked down at Harry, who was standing in front of him looking like a little, lost boy. Severus wished he looked older, was bigger for his age. Harry was so small, so frail-looking. But it was misleading, for this child had already done such amazing things. "Divestio," Severus said, starting the process.
Harry's eyes shot wide. Snape was standing in front of him naked! He was so big, so hairy, his cock was huge! And what was worse, Harry was naked too. He turned to run and got as far as the door, which was spelled closed. "Alohomora!" he cried, but it had no effect. He didn't have his wand anymore anyway, and he wondered where it had gone when Snape had spelled his clothes away. He hoped it was still in his pocket. He wasn't surprised that he couldn't get out, because Snape knew all about the Dark Arts, all sorts of spells Harry had never heard of. He turned back, staring fearfully at the naked man, who hadn't moved at all.
"Harry, calm down. I will not hurt you. Don't run from me."
Snape's voice was deep and smooth, Harry felt himself calming down despite the situation. His breathing slowed a little; he'd been panting like a chased rabbit.
"Come, let us sit and talk," Snape said, walking over to the bed and perching on the side. His cock stuck up from his lap and Harry couldn't take his eyes from it. Snape chuckled. "Come on, I won't bite. It doesn't bite," he added, waving his hand over his erect penis.
Harry's legs felt wobbly. He was scared, as scared as when he'd faced the basilisk, and that was just stupid. Because, all right, Snape's cock was big. Of course it was, he was much bigger all over than Harry. And yes, he was hairy because he was an adult. One day Harry would be like that, instead of just having these wispy hairs under his arms and around his groin. But Snape was a man, just a man. Harry had already realised that. And whatever he was going to do it couldn't be that terrible, because Snape's wand was lying on the little table by the bed, and Snape wasn't doing anything, he was just sitting there.
"Come to me, Harry," Snape said again.
Harry started to walk towards him. Snape kept looking at him, straight into his eyes. Harry was so glad he wasn't staring at his cock, he felt so little now. As he stood near, Snape smiled at him and patted the bed beside him. "We can talk now you've stopped panicking."
Harry felt a bit shamefaced about his panic attack, so he climbed onto the bed without any further fuss. Snape was moving too, arranging pillows against the headboard before sitting up against them. "Come on."
Harry crawled over the wide bed and settled against pillows on the other side from Snape. The bed was so big he wasn't really near and wouldn't have to touch the man.
"It's comfortable, isn't it?" Snape asked.
"Yes," Harry said, appreciating the soft, deep mattress and silky covers. "It's nice. Much nicer than my bed in the dorm."
"This is your bed from now on, Harry, yours and mine."
Harry just nodded, unsure what to say. It was a lovely bed and he'd love to sleep in it every night if Snape wasn't there. Snape started talking again.
"Black is out there, Harry. But I'm here with you; I will keep you safe. From him and from whatever threatens you. Don't you feel safe here with me?"
Harry swallowed, squirming a little. "Well, yes, I suppose so. I mean, I know nothing can get me when I'm with you, that you've helped look after me all this time."
"I have," Severus said. "And I always will."
Harry nodded again. Snape moved and put an arm around him, pulling him against his side. Harry almost panicked as he felt the warm, hard flesh of Snape's body next to him, but nothing else happened, so he calmed down. He had to be here, so he might as well stop jumping every time Snape moved. The man would probably kiss him again, after all. Harry sneaked a peek up at the tall man, and saw Snape's dark eyes fixed on him. Snape smiled, then leaned down and did what Harry had expected, he kissed him.
Snape tilted his head just so, so that his nose didn't get in the way. His lips were soft; his tongue tickled the seam of Harry's lips. Harry opened a little in response and Snape's tongue slipped into his mouth. It was weird, but not horrible, and Harry lay still in Snape's arms as the man kissed and explored him. He moved his own tongue as Snape mapped his mouth, and Snape's arms tightened as if he liked that. Snape soon drew back and Harry gasped a little. Snape plucked Harry's glasses from his face, putting them gently on the table next to his wand.
"You're my husband, Harry," Snape said as he turned back to Harry. Snape's voice was so deep it sounded different; Harry had never heard it like this. "And I must do my duty by you. I must keep you safe, and so I must strengthen our bond to be able to do that better." Snape's hand traced down Harry's back and slid around to his cock. Long fingers traced the length and encircled the boy's penis. Harry gasped as sensations prickled along his length; he wanted to moan in embarrassment when he felt it stiffen. Snape was gently massaging it, making it get stiffer all the time. Harry looked down, blushing.
"Beautiful, Harry," Snape said. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You are my beautiful boy."
Harry blushed hotter because Snape sounded as if he meant it, as if he could eat Harry up he was so good. His downcast eyes lingered on his stiff prick, then skittered aside in denial, only to see Snape's stiff cock. So big, thick and reddened, the head peeking from the foreskin, a bead of moisture nestled in the slit. Snape kept saying Harry was safe here, but no way! Harry thought, as he looked down at that thick cock, was it safe in here. Snape was going to do something with that, but Harry wasn't sure what, and that was downright scary.
Snape was still touching him, stroking him, one hand on his stiff little cock, one caressing his back in soothing strokes. "Silly boy, I will not hurt you," Snape said again. "How many more times must I tell you that? Husbands share touch, and warmth, and affection. All good things, Harry, not pain."
Snape's words were reassuring, but Snape hated him, didn't he, and Harry thought that maybe he was just kidding, luring him in until he'd hurt him. Snape wanted to get his own back on Harry, because Harry's dad had saved him and Snape couldn't stand it.
Snape leaned down and kissed him again, and the whirling anxiety within his mind calmed a little once more, the kiss was so good, so good. It was hot and wet, and Harry got lost in it, and he shouldn't like it like this, should he? Having a man kiss you shouldn't feel so good, and Harry hated himself because he felt so good about it, and yet he wanted it to go on forever. He now understood what all that romance and stuff was about, why grownups were always making a big deal about love and all that. Here in Snape's arms he was feeling safe, and the outside world didn't matter, and the kiss was making his heart thump and his stiff cock was pressing against Snape's fingers. Harry couldn't help it; he started to rub against Snape's fingers, just like he did when he was wanking. It was so good he moaned aloud, and Snape swallowed the sound in his kisses.
To Harry's surprise, Snape moaned back, his tongue stroking Harry's in an insistent rhythm that matched Harry's thrusting hips. The kiss was broken and Snape looked down into Harry's green eyes, his own dark eyes intense. Snape seemed to like this, he didn't mind what Harry was doing to him, that Harry was rubbing his cock against Snape's belly now, huffing with the effort and making little grunting sounds at the pleasure it gave him. Snape didn't think this was odd or wrong; but who knew what Snape did when he was alone in his big bed, or what he'd done in the past?
Severus lifted Harry on top of him, moving to accommodate the boy's thrusts. "That's it, Harry, enjoy me. We're married, nothing is wrong between us. Do whatever you want."
Harry's head was spinning; his cock was so hard. This was so much more intense than wanking in his bed, trying to keep quiet behind the curtains. As if Snape knew what he was thinking, he spoke in that deep voice again directly into Harry's ear: "Let me hear you, Harry, make all the noise you like. No one can hear us in here."
It was all so intense, the feeling of being naked with someone else, with a man, with Snape… "Sir, I-"
"No," Severus purred into his ear, "it's never 'sir' here. I am Severus."
"Sev-er-us!" Harry stuttered, "I… I'm going to come."
"Yes, come for me, Harry," said that deep voice in his ear. It seemed to penetrate down into Harry's bones, right into his heart. "Give me your gift, my little husband," Severus urged.
Harry could only wail in reply as the first wave of his orgasm hit him, his eyes squeezed shut, his body shuddering as his cock shot small jets of semen over the man's belly. His hips continued to twitch out a rhythm as wave after wave of pleasure passed over him, swamping him until he fell into stillness and silence, and he felt Severus' arms cradling him close. Severus' lips kissed his forehead, his tongue flicked out to taste salty, sweaty skin. Harry had never been kissed until today, and now here he was lying in his husband's arms, overwhelmed with pleasure. He never realised he was smiling.
"Look at me, Harry," Severus' deep voice prompted.
Harry opened his eyes, still smiling. Severus was so close to him. He was lying on top of the man and Snape's arms were holding him. Snape shifted slightly, and Harry slid off alongside his husband. Severus loosened his grip on Harry and trailed a finger through the small patch of stickiness on his belly, holding it up as if he was examining it. Harry blushed hotly, mortified at making a mess on the man. It was bad enough when he messed his sheets; he always worried what the house elves would think, but this was a million times worse, because Snape knew Harry had done it, and now he was looking at the mess. Harry's eyes just widened more when Snape slipped his finger between his lips and sucked on it, tasting Harry's come. Merlin! Why did he do that?
Snape's dark eyes turned back to Harry, and he saw the boy's embarrassment. "Everything about you is mine, Harry, and you are perfect." Severus leaned in and Harry knew he was going to kiss him again. He was getting used to the kisses - he liked the kisses - but Snape had just sucked his come into his mouth. Harry went to jerk away, uncertain, but Snape's arms were around him again and the kiss was unavoidable. He kept his lips closed, but Snape's tongue was teasing again, and Harry couldn't help it, because he couldn't breathe well, and anyway it had felt so good and right to open his mouth before. The taste was odd; it was a little bitter, but not bad, nowhere near as bad as he'd thought, but really he didn't want to do this, but he struggled in vain, for Snape's strong arms were holding him in place and the man was taking his time with the kiss. Snape's tongue was stroking along Harry's lovingly, and Harry gave up struggling, settling back and letting it happen. He moaned a little.
Severus pulled back, and Harry looked at him, blushing again. "That was not so terrible, was it?" Severus asked, smirking a little.
Harry shook his head. His voice didn't seem to be working properly here in Snape's bed, but Snape was right, it wasn't too bad. Not the sort of taste he'd want to have again, at least he didn't think so, but it was amazing what they'd just done, what Snape was still doing to him. He gasped as Severus moved his hips a bit, and Harry felt the hot hardness of the man's cock rubbing against his hip, and knew that Snape needed to come too.
As if Severus was still reading his mind, he spoke again: "I need to come, Harry."
Harry nodded, he understood what Severus wanted. He reached out his hand towards the hot, hard cock, feeling the soft-hardness of it, the living flesh of Severus' most intimate parts.
"Oh yes, you can touch me," Snape breathed. "But I need to come inside you to seal our bond."
Harry's hand stilled, he began to panic again. Inside… inside… inside where? In my mouth? In… he just couldn't think it, it was too dreadful. He trembled in a way Tom Riddle hadn't managed to make him. "No, please…"
"Yes," Severus said implacably. "Yes, it must be. And you know it, Harry, don't you?" As he spoke, Severus was unscrewing a glass jar, dipping one long finger inside, withdrawing it.
Harry wasn't watching, he was trembling, afraid of what Severus meant. Severus' cock was just so big, so hot and so hard, it could push inside Harry, Harry just knew it, but it must be agony. He whimpered.
"Don't be afraid, little husband," Severus crooned as he slid his slick finger down the crack of Harry's arse, making the boy wriggle. "I won't hurt you if you relax."
Harry felt the fingers there, close to his arse. Oh no! It was awful, dirty, wrong! Severus mustn't touch him there, no one, no one had ever touched him there…
Again, Severus spoke up in that way he had, as if he knew Harry's most intimate thoughts. "I am your husband; nothing about you is hidden to me, as nothing about me is secret to you. Married people are this close, so intimate that they know every centimetre of their partner's body. Do not fear me, Harry, open to me," he said as his finger approached Harry's entrance.
"No!" Harry cried, struggling, panicking as he knew Snape was going to touch him there, where he shouldn't touch him. Severus had him in a firm grip; his muscular arms were so strong Harry knew he wouldn't be able to break free.
"Yes, Harry," Severus continued, "it has to be this way. You know that, we've talked about it. Calm down, I won't hurt you." Severus traced his finger around the puckered flesh of Harry's anus, feeling the delicate flesh twitch in response. "You see, it feels good, doesn't it?"
"Oh!" Harry gasped, "Oh… no! I don't want it."
"Does it hurt, what I'm doing?" Severus asked.
Harry shook his head, "No."
"No. I told you it wouldn't; I am not here to hurt you. I am here to seal our bond, Harry, to be your husband in every way, as Dumbledore instructed me to."
The mention of Dumbledore grounded Harry again; he calmed a little. Severus hadn't done anything to hurt him so far, and the finger didn't feel bad there, it was going a around and around his hole, tickling, making his body feel tingly down there.
"That's right; relax, Harry. I told you; it won't hurt. It's to keep you safe, it's for the bond."
"I didn't know it was going to be this sort of bond," Harry said breathlessly.
"Adult bonds are usually sexual, Harry. Because of your importance to all of us, the headmaster was treating you as an adult when he suggested this bond; you should be flattered."
"But I'm still underage," Harry protested. "I know I've always had to look out for myself, but this is wrong, isn't it?"
"Foolish boy," Severus said, his deep voice going right through Harry every time he spoke, "this is Inhibeo Tutis. It is a bond created before the Age of Consent even existed. Look at its uses: age was never considered. Don't you read your history text, Harry? Many young, vulnerable people, male as well as female, were bonded to older wizards for protection in times of trouble, time such as we live in. The older wizard could keep an eye on them at all times, whether he was present or not. Wayward children were often tamed this way as well. That is why this bond was chosen for you; it was made for you. Your age doesn't come into it under wizard law."
"But under Muggle law…" Harry gasped, trying not to be embarrassed as his arse twitched under that wickedly tickling finger.
"You are not in the Muggle world; you will not be again now that you no longer need your relatives. There is nothing in the Muggle world that can protect you, is there?"
Harry realised the truth of Snape's words. There was no point in protesting or arguing about this. And so he lay quiet, moving a little to get more comfortable, inadvertently opening himself to Snape.
"No, it is not so terrible," Snape crooned, and he slid his finger into Harry's well-oiled entrance, gently moving in and out.
"Oh, oh!" Harry gasped, his arse clenching in shock around the intrusion. "Never… no, no one ever, I mean, no one should do that!"
"Shh, you silly boy," Severus said, kissing Harry gently, still sounding as if it was fondness, not insult he intended to convey. "This is how men are together, when they are close. You are my husband, and so I will enter you tonight." Snape stilled, looking down at Harry's face to see the effect of his words. The boy looked as if he was about to protest again, so Snape kissed him to keep him quiet. He kept the finger moving; reminding Harry that he was already penetrated, and would be penetrated far more soon. As he pulled back from the kiss he could see Harry's protests were still not finished, and the boy was squirming again. "I will enter you tonight to seal our bond, Harry," Severus said, fiercely insistent. "And you will deal with it."
So saying, he kissed Harry again, and Harry's squirming counted for nothing as Severus' mouth covered him, and his finger moved in and out, in and out, slipping and twirling inside. And it was going on and on, the kiss and the finger, and it wasn't so bad, because Harry could only relax, there was no other way to deal with it and nothing else he could do in this position.
Dumbledore, he thought again. Dumbledore had told Snape to do this. Dumbledore had begged Harry to do this. They both had to do it, for the bond, for the future, for everything. Harry gave a huge, mental sigh, and once again he stopped fighting. He's your husband, his inner self reminded him, in a voice he recognised as sounding like Dumbledore.
So this was what it meant, when grownups went to bed together. This was what all the sniggering was about. They got close, got intimate, very intimate. His mum and dad had been like this, intimate, and so close. They had been married, and now Harry was married, to Severus.
The kiss eased a little as Severus sensed Harry's capitulation. He drew back and spoke again, talking the boy through it. "You see, it's not so terrible," he whispered into Harry's ear. "Trust me, Harry, I will not hurt you. Relax and it will all be easy."
Harry gasped, turning his head aside. He felt so odd, so weird, unsure whether he was okay or not. This was all shocking to him, overwhelming him with things he'd never considered. He'd never thought about sex at all, except as a joke when the boys laughed in the dorms, or someone told a dirty joke in the common room. As he turned his head aside, a tear he hadn't been aware was in his eye spilled over and tracked down his temple. Mortified, he buried his head into the pillow, trying to wipe it away.
Severus saw the boy turn his head. He saw the tear, but he couldn't acknowledge it. This had to be, and so he pulled his finger out, dipped two into the special gel, and slipped them back inside before Harry could be grateful for the respite.
Harry gulped as he felt the stretch as Severus slipped two fingers inside him. He felt Severus moving them differently this time, opening them, stretching him inside. It hurt a bit, but not much… hardly at all, if he was truthful. It felt odd though, having something inside his bum. But it was not awful, not terrible, Severus was right about that. Severus' other hand had released his fierce hold on Harry, and it slipped down, tickling over his cock, which twitched at the attention. And then Severus moved his fingers around, quirking them just so inside Harry, and he stroked in just such a way… and Harry gasped in delight as his prostate was massaged, and his cock hardened under Severus' gently questing fingers. He couldn't help it, he had to gasp… "Ah!"
"Yes, you see, my Harry. There is pleasure here, for you as well as for me. Inside your body, in your most intimate parts, there is this-" Severus stroked the prostate again, revelling in Harry's sound of pleasure, "which is just for your pleasure. I will look after you, my little husband, and you will enjoy what I do to you."
Harry was flying now, eyes closed, face a mask of surprise. He felt as if he was rushing on his broomstick, his blood was pounding in his ears and he was gasping for breath. It was so different from anything he'd felt or imagined, he was so close, so intimate with Snape, with his husband's fingers up there inside him, touching him and making him cry out in pleasure. And he felt nothing but disappointment as Snape withdrew those fingers that had made him fly, and so he opened his eyes and looked up questioningly.
Snape was slicking his fingers again - he used a lot of that slick stuff - and he leaned over Harry again and spoke as he slid three fingers inside, his voice covering Harry's gasp of surprised pain. "You will want me, Harry. You will come to me and ask me to take you. And I will, Harry; I will take you whenever you want. In bed, on the floor, against the wall, over my desk…" Snape's voice had gone deep and gravelly now and Snape's breath was hitching. Harry hardly noticed what Snape was doing inside him because he was mesmerised by that beautiful voice which made him listen intently. "Would you like me to do that, Harry?"
Harry didn't think he could answer even if he knew what to say. As Snape stopped speaking Harry became aware of his prostate being massaged, all over, by the three fingers. He moaned, his eyes squeezed shut, and he spread his legs wider to make sure those fingers could reach him easily.
"Yes, you would, I can see that." Snape chuckled. "Now, Harry, it is time. Time for you to join the big boys; time to become my husband in every sense of the word, just as Dumbledore instructed."
Severus adjusted the pillow under Harry's hips. Harry felt boneless and it was easy to arrange the boy, to raise and spread his legs just how he wanted. Snape slipped his hands under Harry's hips, lining his cock up with Harry's entrance. He began to push.
Harry's eyes flew open. Snape was looming over him, his long hair tickling Harry's cheeks. "No! No, Severus, please! It's too big!" Harry was panicking, it was so much bigger and thicker than those fingers, it was one huge thing and it would never fit in there…
"Shh, hold still. You'll ease, Harry, it will be all right," Snape reassured, his hands moving to Harry's shoulders, pinning the boy in place on the bed as he pushed again, a little further.
"No! Oh, it's too tight, I can't-"
"You can," Severus insisted, "You are." He nudged forward a little more.
"Please, sir, please stop!" Harry wailed, convinced he was being split apart.
Severus sealed his mouth over Harry's cries, kissing him firmly. He stilled awhile, waiting for the boy to relax. As Harry quietened - he had no real choice about it - Severus released his mouth. "It's Severus, Harry, always Severus here." And he pushed again.
"No, please," Harry said again, but his voice was weaker now, despairing, because Severus was nearly fully sheathed inside him and he couldn't stop it.
"Shh, Harry, we're nearly there. I'm nearly all the way in, just a little more, my husband, just a little more…" and Severus pushed again.
"Take it out, please," Harry said, his voice a husk.
"Shhh, it's done now, Harry. You are my husband, mine forever now." Severus leaned down and kissed the boy again, gently but firmly, an affirmation of his words, not an act of silencing. Harry seemed more relaxed, Severus was buried balls deep inside him. It was so tight, as he'd known it would be, and he'd wondered if he could get this far when he had started the penetration, but Harry's tight walls were easing a little now. Enough to allow him to move a little. Severus gave a small, nudging thrust in and out.
Harry whimpered a little, but the sound was not so terrible. Severus angled his gentle thrusts, remembering the boy's anatomy and aiming for his prostate. The whimpering continued, but when it turned to a gasp Severus knew he'd found what he was looking for. He repeated the thrust, carefully, always gently. His body was screaming at him to pound into Harry's tight heat, but he fought it, determined to make the experience as bearable for Harry as he could.
"Pleasure, Harry. Once you are used to this it is nothing but blinding pleasure," Severus assured, stroking smoothly with his cock, over and over Harry's prostate.
Harry began to moan; he didn't want to, didn't want to show Snape how good it was starting to feel, because it had hurt, and Snape had said it wouldn't. Harry had begged him to stop but Snape had just kept on, burying himself right inside. And Harry remembered how huge Snape was, and he couldn't help wondering how on Earth his body was managing to take all that inside him. Snape was stroking over that place again, and his cock felt so much better than the fingers had, all one thick slide back and forth… Harry's heart was racing, it had been fear and pain, but now it was excitement as that feeling built up inside him, making him pant and moan. He didn't want to moan, didn't want Snape to know how good it felt now, but he couldn't stop himself any longer.
"Yes, that's it," Severus panted into Harry's ear. "Feel me deep inside you, Harry; it's good, isn't it? You're mine now, all mine." Severus speeded up, letting a little of his iron control slip. Harry was accommodating him now, allowing him to move more easily.
Harry couldn't help it, he was thrusting up to meet Severus' downward thrusts now, his hips twitching seemingly of their own accord and his hand wrapped unthinkingly around his cock, which was stiff again. He was having sex! And it was mind-blowingly good, and a - "Oh, oh!" he cried, "Oh, Severus!" Harry came again, for the second time this evening, and his short spurts shot onto his chest.
Snape pounded now, hard and fast, he was so close to the edge, and Harry's cries were spurring him on, making him lose all his control…
Harry came back to himself, opened his eyes and looked up at Snape's face. Severus' features were screwed up in something approaching agony and Harry could feel him deep inside. The rhythmic pulses of Snape's cock meant Snape was coming, filling Harry with his semen. Harry felt so close to him, closer than anyone could have ever been before, and he opened his arms and pulled Severus closer. He didn't know why, but he had a great wish to help him, help Severus in every way he could.
Severus collapsed, just managing to support his weight on his elbows. He shuddered as his orgasm passed. He had never felt so close, so intimately connected to anyone before. Was it because the boy was so young and he felt protective? Was it because they were bonded? It didn't matter anyway, because it was real and Harry was now his. Severus pulled the boy closer, feeling the thin arms around his own back that had already been embracing him. Thank Merlin; he hadn't traumatised Harry too much. This had to be done, for the bonding, for Harry's safety.
Severus rolled off Harry, lying by his side, panting. He pulled the boy close and Severus was happy to see Harry scooting willingly enough into his arms. Severus kissed the reddened, kiss-swollen lips. "Sleep now," he said, his own eyes drifting shut.
Harry looked at the man beside him, taking in details he'd never noticed before. Severus' long, dark eyelashes; the way the lines on his face eased out when he relaxed like this; the shadow where stubble would appear in the morning; the aquiline nose, no longer an object of ridicule, just part of his husband, like the long, elegant fingers or the hairy chest. Harry smiled and ran his fingers over the chest hair, appreciating its softness. Funny that, he'd have thought it would be wiry, but it was quite soft. "Good night," he whispered, closing his eyes as bidden. Part of him wondered why he was doing everything Snape told him to so easily, without question. He wondered if it was a spell Snape had cast on his voice, then decided it was probably just the bond affecting them.
Harry's arse felt a bit sore; he clenched his muscles experimentally and decided not to do it again in a hurry. But although it had hurt at first, he'd known it had to be done. He wasn't sure he'd ever ask for it, not like Snape had said he would, but he supposed it wasn't quite as dreadful as he'd been expecting. You came, the Dumbledore-voice reminded him. It can't have been that bad or you wouldn't have. Harry frowned, but he couldn't argue with the logic of that. Still, he wasn't looking forward to repeating it for a while. In a way, he wished it wouldn't happen again, but Snape had explained that it had to, to strengthen the magic. For your safety.
Harry was too tired to argue with the voice, so he gave Severus a light peck on the cheek, closed his eyes, and relaxed into sleep.
When Harry woke next morning he was surprised and delighted to realise he'd not dreamed at all that night. Lying next to someone felt comforting, and he looked up to see Severus smiling down at him.
"You're awake at last," the man teased.
"What time is it?" Harry mumbled groggily.
"Eight o'clock. I've not stayed in bed so late in years."
"Really? Well, it's the holidays. There's no need to get up early."
"Oh, the naiveté of youth!" Snape said. "Some of us have to work all year round, you know. And besides, breakfast stops serving at 9.30. By the time you get yourself up, washed and dressed it will be lunchtime!"
"Oi!" Harry said, affronted. "I don't take that long. I'm used to having to rush in the showers."
"I suppose so," Severus agreed. "Well, there's only two of us using this shower, so you've no excuse for tardiness. And you might like to use this." Severus handed Harry a pot of salve. "It's a painkiller and relaxant; apply it wherever you're feeling a bit sore. And get on with it; I'm hungry."
"I'm not surprised," Harry said, laughing. "You were a bit energetic last night."
"Cheeky brat," Snape said, and gave Harry a swat on the backside.
Harry yelped and jumped, hurrying out of bed for the bathroom, little jar in hand. It was nice of Severus to give him this.
"Harry!" Snape called. "You have a dressing gown, take it with you."
Harry caught the thick burgundy dressing gown Snape tossed at him; embarrassed that he'd forgotten it. "Oh, thanks." It was odd, he'd never been naked in front of anyone before, but after what they'd done last night, it never occurred to him to be embarrassed this morning. He'd woken up naked in Snape's huge bed, and he just hadn't thought about it. Snape was naked too. Harry grinned.
Severus chuckled as the boy left. It wasn't like he wanted Harry to cover those provocative arse cheeks, but he didn't relish a damp, dripping Harry walking trails over his antique Persian rug right after his shower. He stretched out for a few more moments of peace in the bed. The huge bed no longer felt so large, and it would never feel empty again. Severus smiled. He'd done very well out of the headmaster's latest scheme, and that was a novelty he was determined to appreciate.
Everyone ate breakfast at the High Table during the Christmas holidays, as there were few residents left in the castle. Harry sat next to Ron without thinking. Severus came in after him, gave him a pointed look, but went to his normal seat next to the headmaster.
Harry watched Snape walk past him, watched him take his seat and begin to serve himself.
"What's wrong?" Ron asked.
"I… nothing, I just feel like I'm aware of him all the time," Harry said, glancing at Severus between mouthfuls of egg. It was a weird feeling, as if Snape was standing behind his chair, very close to him.
"That's creepy," Ron said. "You can't get away from him, can you? He's always going to be with you, in a way."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I suppose it's a bit creepy. But it's good too. I don't have to worry about being trapped, or picked on, or anything like that any more. He'd come and help me, I know he would."
Ron gave him a close look. "You don't mind? Harry, it's Snape. It's Snape who'll know what you're up to all the time!"
Harry shrugged. "I know. It… it doesn't really matter."
Ron was goggling at him now, in total disbelief. "What's he done to you?"
Harry blushed. "I - nothing, Ron."
Hermione, seated on Harry's other side, had been listening closely but hadn't said anything yet. But now she gave him a very close look. Harry looked at her and blushed under the scrutiny. "Look, I don't want to talk about it," Harry mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. His arse gave a little stab of residual soreness in a spot he must have missed with the salve, as if to remind him what it was that he didn't want to talk about. "It's personal, okay?"
"So he did do something!" Ron hissed angrily.
"Look Ron, Hermione, I know you want to help, but you can't change the fact that he's my husband. He has rights, needs…"
"Oh, Merlin, Harry!" Ron sounded aghast, and rather loud. "You're only thirteen!"
"I had noticed, thank you," Harry snapped, making shushing motions with his hands.
"I don't think it can be legal," Hermione murmured, looking scandalised.
"The headmaster arranged it, Hermione," Harry shot back. "He bonded us himself; it's got to be right."
Hermione looked a bit mollified, but she was still doubtful. "I'm going to find out. I'll keep looking."
"You're supposed to be revising," Harry argued. "And I agreed to this, remember?" He pointed to his bonding ring.
Ron put a hand on Harry's arm, his voice, when he spoke, oozed sympathy: "I'm so sorry, Harry."
Harry bristled, he found it bloody infuriating. Ron was talking as if he was dying, or about to be tortured. It had hurt a bit - what Snape had done to him last night - but it wasn't that awful. And now he was used to it, it wouldn't be so bad next time. Right? And he had come during the sex. It had been nice at the end... All right, it had been bloody nice. He shook his head and concentrated on his breakfast, hoping his friends would just drop the subject.
And they did, for a couple of mornings. Severus had sex with Harry every night at bedtime. It always hurt at first. Perhaps a bit less than the first time, but it was such a tight fit, even though Severus took his time preparing him with his fingers. But once Severus was inside and his body eased, it felt wonderful. Really, really good. The sense of being so closely linked was amazing, that would have made it worthwhile on its own, but the pleasure when Severus stroked his cock over Harry's prostate was the best damned feeling in the world, Harry was sure. He also knew that if Snape hadn't been so keen and ready for it every night, Harry would have had to ask for it. It was with this knowledge that Harry faced Ron in their common room three days later.
"Is he still… you know," Ron asked, waggling his eyebrows.
"We're married," was all Harry would answer, in a tense, 'leave-it' voice.
"Gods, Harry, how do you stand it?"
"It's not that bad," Harry insisted. What made it worse was Hermione's pitying looks. "Honestly, it's not."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said.
Ron still looked disbelieving. "I'd want to die if it was me, Harry. Having the Greasy Git doing that, sticking his-"
"Ronald!" Hermione cried, shocked.
"What? Well, he is," Ron whined.
Harry was annoyed. Hermione couldn't stand to hear it, Ron couldn't say it properly, but to him it was intimate knowledge, and very pleasurable. Harry could remember the sensations of being impaled on that impressive erection, how Severus' hips rocked back and forth, the rhythm stroking, building toward their climax… He jumped up and walked around, feeling restless and horny. He knew what he needed, but he'd only had it last night! He shouldn't want it again. It had hurt, for a while anyway, and he'd begged not to have to do it, and now he was thinking about it and wanting it again? What was wrong with him? Was it the spell, the bond? Or was it simpler than that - that it was just brilliant how Snape made him feel? Neither of his friends could understand that; they'd not had sex.
Gods, Harry remembered, Severus' cock was a sight! Not like the boys in Gryffindor Tower - Harry doubted any of the seventh years could measure up. Severus was so thick, so hot and hard it was scary. But somehow it went inside. Severus took good care stretching him; he'd told Harry that one day it wouldn't be necessary, that he could just slip inside, wherever they happened to be. Harry could hardly believe it, but the thought of Snape coming up behind him, pulling him into a cupboard or behind a tapestry, then pulling his trousers down and sliding inside. Harry groaned.
His friends' heads whipped round. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?" Hermione fussed.
"Look, just leave it. You can't change it, Hermione. I'm living with it, okay, and he's not awful to me. In fact, he's kind. And, and … well, caring."
"What?" Ron jumped up. "Now I don't believe you! He's the Greasy Git, Harry. He's nothing but spite!"
Harry stopped pacing and faced Ron. "He's my husband, Ron. He doesn't hurt me, okay. And he's kind in his way. Now just leave it, please." Harry knew Snape had been as careful as he could be last night; he'd spent ages playing with Harry, getting him ready. It would probably have hurt a lot more if he'd just done it quickly. They had to do it, for the bond, for Harry's safety, so he couldn't blame Severus for fucking him. And it had become nice, and better than nice, as it went on.
Ron shook his head. "You were always too brave for your own good, Harry, even for a Gryffindor."
Harry sighed. He would never convince Ron, and didn't quite know why he was trying. "Come on, it's nearly time for lunch."
This immediately distracted Ron from the subject of Snape. "Yikes! You're right. Hurry up, Hermione, or all the biggest Yorkshires will be gone."
Easter came and went, and Harry had the best Easter of his life. He received a lot of eggs, including a huge Honeydukes one from Severus with miniature cauldrons and potions ingredients inside. There were jelly flobberworms, crystallised bats, crème snails, fudge bezoars and Harry's favourite - lacewing flies made of marzipan that really flew. Severus also gave him a present. It came in a long, rectangular box wrapped in silver paper with a black ribbon. It was a silver athame, a ritual dagger. Severus told him that every advanced magician should have one, and this one was an heirloom from his family. Harry asked a lot of questions about whose it had been, but Severus didn't say much, deflecting the questions. Harry didn't mind, the dagger was beautiful, silver throughout with its handle studded with semi-precious stones: amethyst, garnets like drops of blood, and lapis lazuli. When Harry held it in his hand it felt like it was alive, like it recognised him somehow. He wanted to put it on display in their rooms, and Severus seemed pleased by that. The athame now lay on the mantel above the hearth with some of Severus' own personal items.
As the new term approached, Harry realised several things were happening. He was getting comfortable with the sex - the initial penetration was hardly painful at all and what followed was wonderful; and he was feeling at home in their shared rooms. Harry still spent some evenings in the common room with his friends, but some evenings he stayed in the dungeons, working at his desk or just sitting by the fire with his husband. Severus was never sarcastic to him there, even though he continued to be so in class. Obviously he'd taken Dumbledore's words to heart, and although he wasn't a talkative companion, there were times Harry preferred that. Their rooms were a welcome sanctuary from the bustle of school life and a place where Harry could have privacy. Snape wouldn't disturb him if he went to bed early, just to be alone, and he would knock when he came to their bedroom door. Harry treated Severus the same way, knocking if he was in his private laboratory, which led off the sitting room. They were becoming comfortable together, and Harry only realised it when he saw Ron's continuing incredulity at how Harry was coping living with Snape.
When the Hogwarts Express brought the rest of the students back, the contrast between the lively atmosphere of Gryffindor Tower and Harry's haven in Snape's quarters became very marked. Classes started again and Harry felt that for once he had a real advantage over his peers, instead of being the once struggling with lack of knowledge because of his upbringing, or notoriety because of his fame, or his abilities. Draco Malfoy, particularly, seemed to notice Harry's new, relaxed confidence.
In the first Charms lesson of the new term, on Tuesday, they were practicing writing charms. Everyone was trying to write on the walls of the classroom with their wands. The incantation Scribere caused a jet of light to emerge from their wand tips and it would etch a glowing script on the wall, which could be spelled to last for a specific time, then fade away. It was like writing with sparklers on Bonfire Night, Harry thought, remembering how he'd once been given a sparkler by Mrs Figg at the Community Bonfire Night on the playing fields at Little Whinging. The display was free, which is why he'd been allowed to go, but everyone except Harry had money to buy baked potatoes, hot dogs, burgers, hot soup and drinks. Harry hadn't cared, because the joy of seeing the wonderful display, the most magical thing he'd seen before Hogwarts, made up for standing in the cold without food or drink to warm him.
Harry had just got his jet of light to emerge properly from his wand, and was aiming it at the wall.
"Hey, Harry!" Ron cried excitedly. He'd just managed to write bollocks on the wall and wanted Harry to see before it faded.
Harry jumped and his wand-flame jetted off erratically, narrowly missing Draco Malfoy's head.
"Potter, you idiot!" Malfoy raged. "What the hell are you up to? You did that on purpose! Tried to turn me into a scar-head like you!"
Professor Flitwick heard the yelling and hurried over. "Now, now, boys, what's the problem over here?"
"He tried to hit me with the flame, Professor," Draco said before Harry could get a word in.
"I didn't, Professor Flitwick, it was an accident," Harry said.
"It was my fault," Ron piped up. "I distracted Harry. I'm sorry."
"That's all very well, but I told you all to take care with this spell. That is why I give a safety lecture before we learn a new incantation. Weren't you listening?"
"Yes, professor," Harry and Ron chanted.
"Well, you obviously didn't take note. You can both do me a hundred lines of 'I will pay attention to the safety lecture'. And I want them handed in with your homework next lesson."
"Yes, Professor," said the Gryffindors, disheartened.
Malfoy looked a little mollified by this, but as Professor Flitwick left them, telling them to get back to their practice, but carefully this time, he whispered to Harry: "I know you did that on purpose, Potty. You'll pay for it."
Harry forgot the incident, except when he was writing his lines. Severus saw what he was doing and stood behind him, reading over his shoulder. "What's this about?"
Harry told him the whole sorry incident. Severus raised an eyebrow, but didn't actually cast doubt on Harry's word, as he would have done in public. "Filius is right, Harry. Safety is important in many lessons: Potions, Charms, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Defence Against the Dark Arts… I could go on."
"Please don't," Harry begged.
Severus smirked and went back to his marking.
The next morning, Harry was on his way to the great Hall to meet up with his friends for breakfast. He was feeling nervous, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe their first Divination class of term was making him jumpy, it was the first lesson after breakfast; Trelawney had been particularly convinced of Harry's doom this year after finding the Grim in his teacup at the start of the year. His tummy churned and he decided he'd better stop off at the boy's toilets near the Hall.
As he emerged from the stall, he found himself faced by Draco, along with his ever-present sidekicks, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy must have seen him enter the toilets and come in and waited for him.
"How dare you attack me in class, Potter?" Malfoy started, stepping forward.
"I told you, I didn't do it on purpose, Malfoy. Ron startled me."
"And you expect me to believe that?" Draco asked, his voice dripping sarcasm. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, twirling it between his fingers. "That flame just missed my head; if you had a better aim I'd be as scarred as you are. Come on, boys, let's show him it's not wise to attack a Malfoy."
The three boys were all coming at him now, and Harry found himself backing into a corner of the washroom, coming to a halt as his back came up against cold, white tiles. His heart was pounding, his hand was on his wand, but Crabbe and Goyle were reaching for him, Malfoy was in front of him with his wand trained on him, and Harry knew he couldn't take them all in one go.
"Look, this is daft, I didn't mean to," he protested as Crabbe got a beefy hand on his shirt, lifting it up and forcing Harry's head up against the tiles. Goyle's hands pinned his arms by his sides. Harry knew this was going to hurt, and tried to steel himself for the first blow. Malfoy was sniggering, enjoying the sight of Potter helpless without his friends.
The door of the bathroom slammed open with a loud bang and the two large boys jumped. Harry looked toward the entrance and broke out into a smile. Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy stepped back, but didn't look particularly bothered. They wouldn't lose points; it was Snape.
Severus strode towards the little scene, his eyes snapping dark fire, his brows thunderous. "Malfoy! Crabbe! Goyle!" he snapped. "Listen to me, because I will say this once, and once only. You will not threaten Mr Potter again, do you understand me? If I find you have laid one finger on him, aimed one minor jinx at him, never mind anything more serious, you will feel my rage. And believe me, you have no idea what that will be like."
Malfoy's mouth had dropped open, shock was written in every line of his expression. Crabbe and Goyle had gone red, not knowing where to look. They were used to nothing but approbation from their Head of House, having his rage turned on them was very scary.
Draco stammered, "But, s..sir…"
"No buts!" Snape roared, his eyes pinning Malfoy like a bug to a card. "When I tell you something, Mr Malfoy, you do it. Now get out of here, and if I find you even thinking of repeating your folly, you will regret it. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," all three boys muttered, backing out gratefully, eager to get away from the enraged, dark wizard. Draco was trembling with shock and humiliation. He hated disappointing Snape, his Head of House had always been proud of him before. He wasn't sure what had changed, but he'd got the message, loud and clear. What his father would say was another matter, but for now, he'd give Potter and his friends a wide berth.
Severus had watched the Slytherins leave. "Close the door!" was his parting shot, and the door was closed carefully behind them.
"Thanks," Harry said, just managing the one word as he was still feeling shaken up.
Severus turned back to him, smiled and said, "Just doing my job, Mr Potter." He gave a final smirk before hurrying away, an impressive, black whirlwind.
Harry smiled at his husband's back. Now they knew the bond was working, seemingly without any conscious effort. It felt good. Harry stood a while longer, getting himself under control, before heading off to his friends. Maybe Ron would see the advantages of their bonding now.
Harry was a bit nervous the following weekend, as it was the Slytherin-Gryffindor match for the Quidditch Cup. He wasn't sure how Severus would take it, but his husband never commented, just carried on as normal. Malfoy was a different matter, shooting hateful looks and comments at Harry at every opportunity. He didn't dare go any further, though, and Harry could live with Malfoy's attentions; they were only pale copies of the way Severus still treated him in public whenever he had to. When Harry duly won the Gryffindor match by catching the Snitch - his team had thrashed Slytherin 230 points to 20 - he had half-expected problems later that night. He spent the evening celebrating with his housemates, and forgot all about it until curfew approached and he knew he must make his way to the dungeons. Once there, Severus was tight-lipped, saying little to his husband. Harry got ready for bed early, and laid down in the big bed in the dark, just leaving the one candle alight on the dresser. Severus hadn't come to bed early, and Harry had fallen asleep, but Severus had soon woken him with kisses, and they'd had sex as usual. Harry had quickly fallen asleep again, exhausted from the match.
From then on life kept to a kind of rhythm, and Harry was content enough, the worry of Sirius Black almost completely forgotten. He was safe: Severus had saved him from Malfoy, and Black had no chance.
A couple of weeks after the Quidditch final, Hermione and Ron were chatting in the common room when Harry joined them.
"I need a new quill," Hermione was saying. "They just don't seem to last."
"They last everyone else," Ron said, grinning. "It's because you do three times as much writing as any normal person."
"Are you calling me abnormal, Ronald Weasley?" Hermione asked, placing her hands on her hips and looking an awful lot like Mrs Weasley. Harry knew she liked to tease Ron with it, and he watched Ron carefully.
Ron was duly rendered speechless, so Harry joined in instead. "Are you talking about the Hogsmeade weekend?"
"Yes. Oh, sorry, Harry," Hermione added, looking embarrassed. "I know you can't go."
"It's all right," Harry said excitedly. "I can! Severus is going to be there. He's on chaperone duty, so I'll be safe."
"Ugh," Ron spluttered. "Snape's going to be there? That puts the tin lid on any hope of fun."
"You're sure it's safe?" Hermione sounded worried, ignoring Ron's concerns. She couldn't help being anxious with Sirius black still at large; she'd been horrified at the sight of Ron's knife-slashed bed curtains.
"Course he will be!" Ron said, glad to get his own back at her for her earlier teasing. "Snape can feel when Harry's in trouble. Don't you remember when he saved him from Malfoy?"
"Yeah, that's right," Harry grinned; glad Ron had finally got it.
"I suppose so," Hermione said, still sounding doubtful. "I've been trying to research the bond, but there's not much written about it. All I can find is historical references; it was often referred to as the 'Chastity Belt Bond'."
"What?" Harry squawked.
Ron goggled at Hermione. "Eh?"
"Yes," Hermione continued, happy to impart knowledge to her two best friends again. "That's why it's not used these days; it's not considered right that one partner should always be under the control of the other. The older, controlling wizard always knows if his younger partner is fooling around."
Harry's eyes went wide. "Well, what if someone kisses me, like Mrs Figg, or Ginny, or anyone?"
"Well, Snape would probably turn up to see what you were doing."
"He did!" Ron exclaimed, almost jumping up and down. "Don't you remember? After the Quidditch final, Cho Chang gave you a kiss and Snape was there, glowering at her."
Harry screwed up his brow in thought. Now Ron mentioned it, something like that had happened. Cho had come across to say congratulations to her fellow Seeker. She'd leaned in and kissed him; it was just a peck on the lips. Harry had stepped back and been surprised to see Severus standing behind their group, frowning down at them. Harry had assumed Severus was annoyed because his team had been beaten so easily, but maybe Ron had a point. "I thought it was because we'd just beaten Slytherin," Harry said.
"I bet it was the bond!" Hermione agreed and they both looked at Harry with those pitying looks they used to wear at the start whenever his bonding was mentioned, and Harry was sad to see them back on his friends' faces again.
Harry shrugged. "It doesn't really matter anyway; I'm not going to fool around. I don't think married people should do that."
Ron looked scandalised. "Of course not!"
"No," Hermione said thoughtfully, "but they never gave you a choice really, Harry. I mean, you might fall in love with someone later on, and you're stuck with Snape. And controlled by him." She made the word 'controlled' sound ominous.
It sounded awful when it was said that way, and Harry's spirit fell a bit. He shrugged again. There was nothing he could do, even if that did happen. He was married to Severus, and Severus was the senior partner in the bond, and it was no good keep going on about it.
Later, in their bed, Severus proved to Harry just how in control he was.
"Get this off!" Snape said, tugging at Harry's pyjamas. "I need you naked, now!"
Harry was a little startled at Severus' urgency; so far the man had always taken his time with their lovemaking. Harry scrambled to undo his buttons and slip off the top. Snape, meanwhile, had opened the button on the trousers and was tugging them down. His breathing sounded quick, as if he was panting from exertion.
"I want you, now!" Severus rasped. "Lie back; spread your legs for me."
Harry arranged himself, catching sight of Severus slicking two of his fingers. The two fingers pushed inside him and Harry gasped; it had always been one at a time until now. It didn't hurt much, but it was a sudden fullness he'd not experienced for a while, reminding him of the first few times Snape had penetrated him. Harry gasped.
"You can take this, Harry, I know you can," Snape said, leaning down to whisper in Harry's ear. "It's easier to stretch you now," he added, scissoring his fingers inside Harry's passage.
It still felt full, but Harry didn't panic, he knew how this went now, and knew that if he didn't tense up or fight Severus his passage would ease and everything would get better. Harry could feel Severus' body pressing against him, the hardness nudging at his hip.
"I'm going to take you, my husband," Severus told him, the words low and secretive, as if he was confiding in Harry. "I'm going to pound you until you come because I'm so hot and hard. Feel me," he growled.
Harry slipped his hand around Snape's erection, and yes, it was hot and hard, so hot and hard Harry was surprised Snape didn't come just from being touched. Snape withdrew his slick fingers and offered Harry the jar he held in his other hand. "Slick me, Harry," he said.
Harry's eyes widened, he'd never done this; he dipped his fingers in the slick gel. It felt cool and so, so slippery as it glided between his fingers as he rubbed them together, admiring the feel of it.
"Now!" Snape said impatiently. "I'm going to be inside you in seconds, and if you don't hurry up you'll be sorry."
Harry didn't disbelieve it; his husband seemed tightly-strung, just holding back by an effort of will. He hurried to wrap his slippery fingers around Snape's hardness and stroked up and down, making sure the head was well coated.
Snape growled at the attention, then knocked Harry's hand aside. "Open for me," he instructed as he moved into position.
Harry spread his legs wide and tilted his hips. As Snape got into position Harry slipped the backs of his calves over Snape's shoulders as he was now used to doing. Severus had told him he preferred this position where he could look down at Harry and watch his face as he made love to him. And Harry thought about that as Snape started to push inside him, not gently, but urgently… Severus had said he 'made love' to Harry. Was it just a phrase?
"Yes, that's it," Snape gasped, his face showing his relief as he sheathed himself inside Harry. "Gods, I needed you tonight."
Harry was finding it even more overwhelming than he normally did: the speed with which Severus was entering him, the need that Severus was showing in every word and action, and Harry's own acceptance, already long past, that they were truly married. Severus Snape was his husband, and he wanted Harry, very much. Harry placed his hands on Snape's arms, feeling the muscles supporting the man's weight.
Severus had looked into Harry's eyes when the boy's hands had grasped him, the gesture felt as if Harry was accepting him. He'd always felt like he was the aggressor here, and he'd been willing to be that, accepting it was part of this special bond. He'd not been willing to leave Harry alone; Severus had needed the sex once it had started. The bonding required the consummation, and that had opened the floodgates. Severus felt the bond prompting him to affirm his dominance of Harry, and he'd done it every night. He'd restrained himself from repeating the performance in the mornings, but tonight the need had built up all day into a raging fire inside him. Severus wondered if that was how Lupin felt near the full moon, this undeniable, bestial need, and he felt some fleeting sympathy for the werewolf. When Harry had slid into their bed tonight, Severus had pulled him close and everything had spiralled quickly from there. Now he was pounding into his young husband, crying out his pleasure and relief. Sweat dripped from his brow, his hair hung down onto Harry's face, and he had to… had to…. had to fuck Harry like this, even though it was rougher than he'd decided to be while Harry was so young. "Want you, need you, you're so small, so tight, so bloody, fucking perfect!" he growled at Harry, and the boy looked up at him with his bright eyes, his mouth agape as he was reamed mercilessly. But Harry wasn't objecting, he wasn't crying out, it was all right, he understood how much Severus needed him…
Harry looked up at Snape's face which was twisted in concentration and pleasure. The man kept gabbling about needing him, wanting him, and Harry couldn't think, he couldn't do anything right now because he was so full, being pushed down into the mattress and back and forward with each thrust of Snape's hips.
"Tight, hot, fuck! Need you-" Snape gabbled.
Harry tightened his grip on Snape's arms, trying to wordlessly reassure him, and Severus' eyes snapped to connect with his own. "Need you, Harry," he said again.
"I know," Harry said, gasping under the onslaught on his prostate. "I know, Severus; I'm here." Harry couldn't say anything else because he couldn't keep his eyes open as his body came to climax in a sudden, fierce spasm he'd not been ready for.
Severus groaned as Harry came beneath him; he gave Harry pleasure, and Harry would come to him for this, would want to stay with him… He cried out and with one last deep thrust started to come. His arms trembled as he kept himself up above Harry, not wanting to crush the slight figure. Harry's hair was wild, spreading in all directions over the pillow. Severus wanted to see it grown longer, wanted to bury his head in it, and he lowered himself down as his climax passed, and lay close to Harry with his nose buried into that wayward hair.
As the minutes passed, Snape felt himself slip out of Harry's body, and he gathered the boy close in an embrace, not wanting to let him go. He'd realised as he made love to him, that he feared Harry leaving, wanting to be with young people all the time, not wasting time with his older husband. He didn't want to think of Harry drifting away from him. He dropped a soft kiss on Harry's forehead, closed his eyes, and hoped Harry would soon sleep. It would be a long while before Severus could settle his mind to do so.
Harry snuggled close to Severus. Severus always held him close after sex. Tonight, he'd kissed him gently, just a soft kiss on the forehead, but a kiss all the same. Severus had gone to sleep right away - he was no doubt tired. But Harry lay awake, looking at the canopy over the bed, and thinking.
Snape wanted sex every night. Tonight he'd wanted it so bad he'd plunged straight in - or nearly straight in - to Harry. He'd made love like a demon, growling and gabbling all the way through. It amazed Harry that a man who was so controlled in his public persona, was like this in bed. There was no gainsaying Snape; Snape needed, and Harry had to provide. And yet, Harry was getting used to it - no, he had got used to it. Being wanted like this, it wasn't so dreadful. It was sort of comforting knowing that Snape would always be there. So no, he didn't think he hated it, despite Ron's disbelief that anyone could think otherwise about having to be with Snape. Hermione was really worried about the control issue, about the fact that Snape was the senior partner in the bonding and had real power over Harry. The Chastity Belt Bond. That's what she'd said it was called. So that meant Harry was just Snape's, that no one else would do these things to him, ever. And in a way, that was comforting too, because now Harry didn't have to think about any of it, didn't have to worry about being attractive to someone - because he knew he was attractive to Snape - didn't have to worry about going on dates, or first kisses, or any of that stuff everyone else seemed to get hung up about. More, he didn't have to be responsible for himself any more, that burden had finally been lifted. Yes, the Dursleys had been nominally responsible for him until he came to Hogwarts, but they hadn't wanted the burden and had largely left him to fend for himself. The headmaster had taken over, in loco parentis, as he'd said; but Dumbledore was that to all the students while they were away from home, and though Harry had always felt Dumbledore took extra care of him, it wasn't the same as what the others had. Now, Snape made the important decisions, and he wanted to do that: he wanted the burden that was Harry Potter.
Harry realised that since his bonding he'd been feeling a lot more like Ron, or Seamus, or Hermione; a lot more like a normal kid from a normal home. It was weird, because he was having sex, and that was a grown-up thing, but he still felt more normal than he ever had. Maybe it was because for the first time he had an adult who cared for him, cared what he did, and wanted to be consulted. Harry had never really told Snape his troubles in their time together, not what really bothered him. The incident in the toilet with Malfoy had been the first time Snape had helped him out that way, but he was pretty sure Snape wouldn't make fun of him if he did speak about his difficulties in future. Perhaps his husband would help him with Transfiguration; he sometimes had problems with that. It would be nice asking Severus instead of Hermione.
It was weird being the only third year having sex, but the wizarding world was weird in all sorts of ways, and Harry knew he was a special case. However weird it was though, it was better than being under the Dursleys' dubious care. And Snape really seemed to value him, even if he didn't have any deeper feelings for Harry.
Harry shifted closer in Snape's arms, comfortable and happy knowing he wouldn't have nightmares here in this big bed. He finally drifted into sleep.
Severus lay awake long after he felt Harry's breathing change into the relaxed rhythms of early sleep. He knew the boy could have been much worse about this whole thing. Harry could have railed at him, fought him every night, but Harry had accepted it all. For the good of the wizarding world, Severus, not for you.
For whatever reason he did it, Harry was being a much better husband than Severus had expected. And it just fired up his needs, just made him long to sink into that young, lithe body every night. Lately, Severus had found himself thinking about it during lessons: longing for the evening, longing for the time when they'd climb into this glorious, large bed. It had been cold, soulless, and lonely before Harry, and now it was warm, passionate, and beautiful. It made Severus smile when he thought of it, and he had to stop himself, or his class of the moment would wonder what was wrong.
Harry was his, his bonded husband, forever. Severus knew that; it was fact. But Severus wanted it to be more: he wanted Harry to want to stay with him just because he wanted to, not because he had to. The bond would keep an eye on Harry, it would alert Severus if the boy was lusting elsewhere, and he dreaded that moment. He feared it too; what would he do if Harry wanted someone else? Would he be violent? To himself? To Harry? To the object of his husband's affections? He didn't doubt it would happen sooner or later, because Harry was thirteen, and he was lovely, and someone would encourage his attentions. And Harry would be tempted, for anyone his own age had to be more appealing than Severus - the old, careworn, bitter and ugly Potions teacher.
When the bond had been chosen, Severus had thought Harry would be the one with all the problems, and so it had seemed at first. Now, he wondered if the trouble was really on his side, after all. Despite the Chastity Belt, was it the senior wizard who was always going to be running just to stand still?
"What makes this particular transfiguration so tricky," McGonagall was saying, "is the inclusion of two types of different magic - Mr Potter, why are you fidgeting like that? It's very distracting!"
"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, going brick red. He had been fidgeting worse and worse as the lesson continued. As he'd entered the classroom he'd felt a bit odd - wary, as if someone was standing behind him. After checking a couple of times he'd shrugged and put it down to the bond; Severus was probably checking on him or something. But the feeling had intensified, and changed. He felt a sense of anger, and kept frowning at his textbook. He wanted to pace, and had shuffled his feet and squirmed in his seat. "I, er, just need the loo."
"Then put your hand up and ask next time. Get on with you, quickly!"
Harry didn't need telling twice, he jumped out of his chair as if he was on springs and hurried to the door, almost running. He didn't care that Malfoy and co. were sniggering and making toilet jokes.
Harry walked straight past the nearest loo. It was only an excuse. Now he was out of the Transfiguration classroom he'd follow his instincts, and his feet seemed to know where to go. He came to a halt outside a very familiar gargoyle, and looked at it, wondering why he needed to see the headmaster. "Er… sherbet lemon?" Nothing, of course, that was an old password. "Liquorice wand? Blood pop?" Harry went on awhile, but he didn't have the heart for it, his emotions were still very out of sorts. He just stared glumly at the gargoyle, and so he was amazed when it started to move.
But it was nothing Harry had done, because his husband emerged from the stairs and came to an amazed halt, staring at him. "Harry?"
Harry smiled up at him, relieved at the sight of Severus, who'd used his first name. "Yes. What's happening? I felt…. Disturbed."
Severus shook his head, put his hand on Harry's arm and pulled him along to an empty classroom. "You were disturbed?"
Harry just slid his arms around Severus' waist and leaned against him, breathing deeply, feeling instant comfort from being with him. "I couldn't sit still in Transfiguration. McGonagall sent me out."
"She did?" Severus sounded disbelieving.
"Well, I told her I needed the loo," Harry admitted.
"How long ago was this?"
"Minutes, just a short while, I rushed here. My feet sort of led me here, but I couldn't get past the gargoyle."
"Just as well," Severus said grimly. "The headmaster and I were involved in a… discussion."
"Is something wrong?" Harry looked up at Severus' grim face.
"No, not as yet. It was just some news that has come to Albus." Severus looked down into Harry's frightened eyes and hugged his young husband. "Nothing for you to fear. I have you, Harry." He leaned down and kissed the boy.
Harry was filled with calm and happiness as Severus kissed him. It was all right, Severus was in control, and he had him. As they parted, Harry smiled. "If you need my help…"
"I will ask for it, never fear." Severus smiled. "Now, back to class, before you lose your illustrious House more points. And I know how Minerva hates taking them from Gryffindor."
"At least she does," Harry said cheekily as he hurried away. "Have you ever taken a single point from Slytherin?"
Severus merely smirked as he watched his young husband go. He was glad he could calm the boy's mood, but Harry had picked up on his agitation at hearing the latest rumours and the prospect of his future role. Voldemort was out there, and Severus knew he would soon act. Something was coming, and it was not far away now.
Towards the end of term, Ginny came running across the hallway towards Ron and Harry. "I did it! I passed all my practice papers!"
Harry stood back to let her hug Ron, but to his surprise she fastened herself to him, squeezing tightly. Harry's mouth opened in surprise, and Ginny planted a kiss on his lips. It was awful - sloppy and enthusiastic but with no finesse; nothing like his husband's kisses. Harry frantically pushed back against her, then he blushed a vivid crimson as he realised that a girl's chest was not as good for pushing against as a boy's. His hands had encountered soft roundness and he quickly pulled them back.
"Here, let him breathe, Gin," Ron said, grabbing his sister's arm. He was alarmed by this sudden onslaught; his sister shouldn't go around kissing boys - not even honorary brothers like Harry.
"I suggest you do that right now, Miss Weasley. Ten points from Gryffindor for unseemly behaviour in public, and detention tonight with Mr Filch. Perhaps that will cool your ardour."
Harry's face drained of its flush in record time as he realised that Severus had seen the kiss. What would his husband do to him? As Ginny let him go, Severus barked out: "Take your sister back to Gryffindor Tower, Weasley, and teach her some proper manners!"
Ron and Ginny crept away, faces flaming; Ron was embarrassed and angry, Ginny was mortified. She hadn't meant to lose control like that, she'd only wanted to hug Harry, but it had just happened, she'd just had to kiss him.
Snape watched them go, then grabbed Harry's robes and pushed him into an alcove. He shoved Harry up against the wall. Harry whimpered as the stones bit into his back, making themselves felt even through his school robes. Now he couldn't be seen from the corridor as students passed by, all they would see would be Snape's tall presence, clad in all-engulfing robes that easily shielded Harry's slight form.
"You're mine, Harry, remember that!" Snape growled, voice low and dangerous. "If she gets too close again, if you think you can just have a little kiss and cuddle with her, think again! The bond will not let you. Didn't you feel it?"
"Er… what?" Harry was confused. He'd been shocked by the kiss, shocked by Snape's appearance moments later, and shocked by being pushed up against this wall. Snape's anger was palpable, and Harry's heart was thundering.
"The bond, my dear husband. It should have jolted you, made you feel bad when you kissed her."
Harry shook his head, not understanding.
"You're lying!" Snape snarled, his face contorting in rage, angry at Harry's denial of what he knew should happen. Snape had felt the jolt when Harry had started the kiss and been drawn to him, hating the sight of the redheaded girl pressing her body against Harry. Harry's hands were nowhere to be seen and Severus seethed at the thought of him playing with the girl's breasts.
"No, no I felt nothing, Severus," Harry cried, trembling in fear and confusion. He didn't know how to put this right. He hadn't done anything, he'd just been standing there, and suddenly all hell had broken loose!
"The bond should make you feel ill if you approach anyone besides me."
"But it didn't, because I didn't approach her. I didn't want to touch her! She just came running up - I thought she was going to grab Ron - and suddenly she was all over me."
Snape's dark eyes were fixed on Harry's, they glittered like polished stones. He didn't look as if he believed him.
"Severus," Harry cried, desperate, "I only want you." He pushed close to his husband, slipping his arms around Snape's waist and leaning his head on the man's black-robed chest. He could hear Snape's heartbeat; it was as fast as his own. Severus was as agitated as he was, just as upset by all this. Snape was upset because someone else had kissed Harry. Was it just possessiveness? Harry looked up into still-suspicious black eyes. "You're my protector, my bonded, my husband," Harry said, pressing his lips against Severus' cheek. "I only want you."
Severus leaned down, and this time when he kissed Harry it was perfect, so unlike the travesty Ginny had planted on him. Severus' tongue slipped into Harry's mouth, claiming, but holding back too. Harry could feel the controlled passion in his husband and knew Severus was trying not to lose it here in this alcove off the public walkway. Gradually, the kiss calmed, became softer, appreciative. When Severus released Harry's hips, he spoke into the younger wizard's ear, his puffs of breath tickling with each word. "Yes, you're mine. My Harry."
"Yes," Harry agreed, and felt a rush of peace and perfection as their bond aligned and each felt the same thing, and knew they were feeling it together: the desire for permanence, the desire for a safe and stable future; the desire for each other.
FIN.
