"It was a very Slytherin gesture," Severus agreed, drawing all eyes his way.
"How so?" Ron questioned.
"By hosting us in such luxurious surroundings, she hopes to gain our gratitude. It will also give her son the opportunity to ingratiate himself into two of his Gryffindor teachers and his head of house's good graces before we meet any of the other first years. It will give her son a marked advantage over his classmates," Severus explained.
"Do you think that's why she did it?" Ron looked as if he didn't know if he should be insulted or amused.
"Yes," Severus, Hermione, and Harry all answered as one, causing everyone to chuckle.
"No matter the motivation, it's still a generous offer," Hermione pointed out.
"So are we going to go?" Ron asked.
"Do you want to?" Harry asked Ron.
"Not all of us got to tour the world first class with a quidditch team," Ron groused. "It'd be nice to have a taste of how the other half lives."
"Really, Ron. You make it sound like we're living in a hovel," Hermione chided.
"We normally rent a cottage in Cornwall for a couple of weeks and then split the rest of the summer visiting your parents and mine. I'd hardly call it luxury," Ron said.
Realizing that it would only be a few weeks before summer break began, Severus turned to Harry to ask the question he hadn't ever thought about, but which was now of pressing consequence. Living day to day, expecting it to end any moment, he'd never thought they'd have been together long enough for the issue to come up. But now the summer break was looming threateningly close, and he had no idea how to handle it. He and Hagrid were usually the only two professors who remained at Hogwarts over the summer. Historically, Potter and the Weasleys cleared out a few hours after the students departed. Until this moment, he hadn't realized that his life was about to be upended in a couple of weeks. Almost dreading the answer, he asked Harry, "Er . . . what do you normally do over the summer break?"
"I usually go with Ron and Hermione to the cottage and then spend a few days at the Burrow. Then I travel alone the rest of the summer," Harry said. Those green eyes seemed entirely too knowing as Harry offered, "That's what I used to do. I already told Hermione and Ron that I'd be staying with you at Hogwarts if you didn't want to join us."
"You did?" Severus asked. Quite stupidly, he realized as soon as the words were out.
Though he couldn't recall a single instance in which Harry had lied to him, his lover's words seemed too timely. Harry had just confessed tonight that the Hat had wanted to sort him into Slytherin. Those smooth, reassuring words were so Slytherin Severus couldn't accept them.
But it was Hermione who answered his question with a matter-of-fact, "Yes, he did. Last month. That's not really the issue now. What are we going to do about Lydia's invitation?"
"Why don't we just think about it for a while?" Harry suggested. "If Severus were willing to go, I wouldn't mind spending a few weeks on the Riviera."
"You don't think there's a conflict of interest in accepting?" Hermione asked, smoothing her grey robes around her.
"It's not like she's asking us to give Marcus perfect grades or something, is it?" Harry asked.
"Isn't it?" Severus chimed in, because he couldn't stop himself from challenging Harry's often irksome faith.
Harry shot him a sour expression. "Stop winding people up just because you can." He turned to Hermione. "You know that's not what Lydia's after. She just wants to make sure that her only child will have some friends in his corner while he's away from home. We're already all fond of Marcus. I don't see how spending some time with them will make that big a difference."
"I, for one, have never met the young man," Severus reminded them.
"He's going to be sorted into Slytherin," Harry said. "You'll love him."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Harry," Hermione warned.
"What? The Penbrokes have been in Slytherin for centuries," Harry argued.
"But the Forresters haven't," Hermione countered. "If you had to go by personality traits alone, where would you put Terry?"
"Gryffindor," Ron answered, no doubt in his tone.
Harry broke into sudden laughter. "Poor Lydia."
"Well, I guess you're right. We should consider the offer," Hermione said. "Let's discuss it at breakfast, all right?"
As a group, they headed for the floo. The four of them made much better time through the crowd than Harry and he had upon arriving. After a quick exchange of goodnights, they flooed to their respective quarters.
Harry stepped out of the floo a mere moment after Severus cleared out of the space directly in front of the hearth.
Laughing, Harry said, "Sorry. We nearly splinched."
"Collided, more like," Severus absently corrected. "We'd already materialized."
"Did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you're snarky?"
The dubious look he cast Harry's way set off his lover's laughter again. The sound seemed to fill the sitting room. It had been a long time since the room had rung with laughter like this.
"Thank you for coming tonight," Harry said once he calmed. "I had a great time."
"The conversation was surprisingly interesting."
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Harry asked, seeming genuinely concerned.
"More than I expected to. The Forresters were most entertaining," Severus said.
"Yes, they're something special. You seemed to get on well with John. Hermione thinks the world of him."
Now was the time to come clean with Harry, he recognized. Yet, there was something in him that wouldn't allow him to admit that he'd sought help. So, instead of easing Harry's mind, he gave a typically Slytherin evasion, "He seemed very agreeable."
"He's apparently something of a wizard in his field," Harry remarked in a tentative, nervous tone.
"Are you going to suggest I consult him?" Severus challenged. He'd been waiting for Harry to voice this suggestion for months, but so far he hadn't made so much as a whisper about him seeking professional aid.
Harry shook his head. "No. Hermione told me she gave you his card. I know you won't . . . that you don't like to ask for help. It's just something to think about, that's all. Are you upset with me for bringing it up?"
Severus gave a negative shake of his head, still trying to find the words to tell Harry the truth.
"Good," Harry said. Leaning forward, his palm cupped the back of Severus' head and drew him down into a soft kiss. When they parted several breathless minutes later, Harry smiled at him and said, "I'm going to hit the loo. I'll meet you in bed."
When Severus finished his own turn in the lavatory, he found the wall sconces and hearth fire lit in the bedroom. Cheerful as those were, it was the sight of Harry in his sky blue pyjamas lounging on the bed that warmed him the most. He stood there in his grey flannel nightshirt in the bathroom doorway simply admiring Harry's sensual sprawl. Coming back here after a night out where they'd laughed and joked, it felt almost like old times. Before January, Severus would have climbed eagerly into that bed and they would have been all over each other. Now . . . well, he was happy not to feel any fear at the sight of Harry waiting there for him.
It was pathetic, he knew, but it was definitely an improvement over last month.
They hadn't attempted to make love since that disastrous morning three weeks ago. Severus knew it was his fault they weren't progressing. He was so afraid of another failure. The hours he'd spent dissecting his fears with Penbroke had helped him sort through some of the crippling panic, but he was still terrified to try, and Harry hadn't pushed him.
"Hey, there," Harry greeted, seeming to notice him in the doorway.
Realizing that he'd been caught staring, Severus swallowed hard and forced out a normal sounding, "Hello, yourself."
Harry's eyes seemed to heat his skin as Severus made his way to the bed. He climbed in on his side.
As soon as Severus was settled beneath the heavy duvet, Harry extinguished the wall sconces with a thought. The flickering flames from the hearth danced through the room as they did every night.
It took Severus a moment or two to realize that his companion hadn't lain down in the bed. Harry was still sitting up with his back resting against a bunch of pillows propped against the headboard. He was startled to find Harry still watching him.
"Are you all right?" Severus questioned, because Harry was rarely so motionless.
Harry nodded. "Tonight was great. I wanted to thank you again for agreeing to go."
Severus couldn't quite master the guilt that shot through him. He knew a few kisses were not how Harry used to prefer to end his evenings. The familiar weight of the basic unfairness of this situation settled over him. Holding that open gaze, he softly said, "I wish that I could be what I once was to you."
"You're exactly what you were to me," Harry corrected. "Do you hear me complaining?"
"No, but -"
"There are no 'buts' to it. I'm happy we had a good night out. Let's not ruin it. Please?"
Severus looked away, lest Harry read what he was feeling in his eyes.
"I wish you'd stop worrying about it," Harry said.
"I just . . . I don't know if I'm ever going to improve," Severus whispered his deepest fear.
This was where any normal person would bring up the idea of consulting a counsellor, Severus realized. But Harry made no such suggestion. Rather, Harry said in that same cheerful voice, "You were very much like your old self tonight. It was wonderful to see. I mightn't be any kind of expert, but I'd say that was a hell of an improvement."
"But we're still not . . . ." Severus' voice trailed off as he recognized that all his efforts would accomplish would be to shatter Harry's good mood.
Once again, Harry didn't make the predictable response. Instead of offering him empty platitudes of reassurance, Harry gave a soft, strangely enigmatic, "The night's still young."
Severus was so caught up in his depression that it took him over a minute to realize that Harry wasn't consoling him. Startled, he looked up from the pillow to where Harry was staring down at him from his sitting position. "What did you say?"
Harry gave him an oddly shy smile, but otherwise didn't reply. He just sat there, staring down into his eyes.
It took Severus a moment to notice that something was going on. The very air between them seemed to be vibrating with magic. He immediately recognized the intense, raw power as Harry's.
"What . . . what are you doing?" Severus questioned, shivering as the magic flowed over and around him. Harry didn't seem to be directing the magic with any set purpose. He was just radiating his power, the way the sun gave off light and heat. And, like a plant starved too long in the dark, Severus' entire being gravitated towards that brightness.
Severus gasped as the power increased. Every inch of his skin was tingling. "Harry?"
"It occurred to me the other day that we might be going about this all wrong," Harry said in the soft, sultry voice he used when making love.
"Wrong?" Severus croaked. The intensity of the power had upped its level dramatically. Severus wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but Harry's skin actually seemed to have a golden glow about it.
"Yeah. We've been trying to push you into doing things you're scared of. I just thought, maybe we should try working with something you like. Do you . . . are you okay with the magic?" Harry asked, the worry in his tone belying the calm set of his features.
Any sane wizard would have been terrified of the power building steadily beside him. This was the kind of power that parted seas and worked truly legendary spells. But Severus had never been sane, not when it came to this level of magic.
That power was the magical equivalent of a siren's call. It bypassed his brain, slithered around his inhibitions, and grabbed him where he lived, as Harry had obviously known it would.
His heart was pounding so hard that Severus could barely think. His breathing was fast and there didn't seem to be enough air in the room. Yesterday, it would have been fear causing his heart to race and his lungs to falter like this. Tonight, it was something he'd believed he'd never experience again. Severus gasped as his body went hard, his erection pulsing to the same beat as the magic pounding through the room.
It wasn't like when they made love and Harry's power flowed into him and manipulated his system. This was just his body's natural reaction to this level of power, his greatest weakness.
Harry's magic was dancing over him like an electric current, seducing, enticing, overwhelming him. It felt like every cell in his body was crying to be touched. And, still, Harry just sat there, watching him, as his power spiralled to terrifying levels.
Finding his voice, Severus grated out, "What are you going to do with it?"
"Not a thing," Harry replied smoothly. "I thought I'd just sit here."
"Sit there?" Severus had never thought cruelty to be part of Harry's character.
Harry's voice was gentle and understanding as he pointed out, "That doesn't mean you can't move."
"I . . . oh . . . ." It took a moment for the meaning to penetrate; Severus was so lost in sensation.
Harry upped the power output to a truly amazing level. There was a time that magic would have entered Severus' system and had its way with him, but tonight it just pulsed over him in ever increasing waves.
Feeling utterly bewitched, Severus pushed the bedclothes aside and staggered up to his knees, panting as he met Harry's gaze.
True to his word, Harry simply sat there watching him. Well, not just watching him, the power levels spiked again.
