Severus' features were pinched and strained.
Harry was intensely aware of the fact that Severus made no attempt to throw him off either physically or magically.
"Go on," Severus urged. "Finish it."
Finish it?
The request snapped some sense into him. What the hell was he doing?
Harry couldn't believe that he'd lost control so badly, gone this far. What's more, it was clear that Severus really thought he was going to . . . hurt him. Not that it was an unreasonable assumption, he realized. Pushing Severus up against the wall like this hadn't been the most reassuring of actions, but there had been no denying the rage rushing through him. This had been a damn sight safer than using a magical outlet. Right now, he honestly didn't trust himself.
How many times had they ended up against a wall just like this, Harry thought, struck by the travesty this was of those happier times. Abruptly disgusted with them both, he unclenched his hands from Severus' now wrinkled and ripped jacket and stepped away.
Severus staggered when the support Harry was inadvertently giving him was removed, and then righted himself to ramrod stiffness.
"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" Harry demanded, trying to figure out what was going through Severus' mind that he'd do something like this.
"What can be said?" Severus answered.
"Why did you do this? Why would you just . . . take away everything we had?" Harry tried to keep his voice level. Shouting wasn't going to help anything. Right now he needed answers to defuse this fury thundering through him.
"It was better for all involved," Severus said after a long pause. "It gave me the space I needed . . . and you were happy, weren't you?"
"Happy? I was fucking brainwashed," Harry didn't quite shout.
"But it proved my point. The minute you were a free agent, you were able to make a healthy connection with another -"
"A healthy connection?" Is that what Severus called one night stands? Well, John might have turned out to be more than that if he'd hung around, but he didn't seem the type for settling down. And even if he had, it hadn't been Severus' right to make that kind of decision for him. "You took away my memories! It wasn't healthy. It was oblivious. And who the hell are you to make that kind of decision for me, anyway? I had a right to mourn what I'd lost, but you . . . you stole it all from me."
"Yes, I did," Severus said. "And for the first time since January, you were happy."
There was absolutely no remorse or guilt in Severus' expression or tone.
"Happy? You fucked with my brain! If you think that's happy . . . you're crazy." Harry stared into those dark, intense eyes.
"That's entirely possible," Severus replied in that same controlled tone.
He might have handled this better if Severus seemed upset or distraught, but he appeared stone, cold sober at the moment. Not knowing what more he could say, he ran a hand through the wreck of his hair and warned, "You need to stay away from me for a while. Far away."
"As you wish," Severus replied, as if it meant absolutely nothing to him that they were over for good.
And for all Harry knew, that just might be the case. Maybe Severus was relieved to get him out of his hair.
Feeling whatever hope he'd retained that they could work through this shatter, Harry gave a stiff nod, turned on his heel, and left. He had no idea where he was going at 2:52 on a Sunday morning. All he knew was that he had to get away, far away.
*~*~*
The power vibrating through the room cut off like a doused candle as the front door slammed behind Harry.
Severus was more than a little surprised that he was still breathing. He'd never seen Harry that furious before. Well, not at him since they'd become lovers. Harry had been equally incensed at Burke.
Not that Harry didn't have reason for his anger. Severus knew how unconscionable what he'd done was. Harry's restraint was incomprehensible. He had fully expected to meet the same fate Burke had. There had certainly been enough power in the room to incinerate him, but Harry had held back.
Not sure if he were disappointed or relieved, Severus moved from the wall back to his chair on suddenly shaky legs.
There was a part of him that still couldn't believe what he'd done to Harry. He still had no true understanding of why he'd done it. All he knew was that erasing Harry's memory had seemed a good idea at the time. The way accepting the Dark Mark had seemed a good idea. His life was nothing but a series of such disastrous choices.
And now he'd alienated Harry forever.
The tightness in his throat made him wonder if maybe Harry had placed some kind of delayed strangulation curse on him, but, no, the stinging in his eyes was only too familiar. He'd successfully fought off this reaction since Harry had rescued him from Burke's dungeon in January. No matter what, he'd held it together and maintained his controls.
But he didn't seem to have the strength for it tonight. Harry was gone forever, and he was left here alone in this room where they had made love on every single piece of furniture at one time or another. No matter where he looked, there was a memory of a happy Harry loving and caressing him.
In typical Slytherin fashion, he'd repaid that love with betrayal. He couldn't help but wonder what it was about the members of his house that made such an outcome inevitable. He hated the stereotypes the other houses held of Slytherin, but there was no denying that he'd lived down to every one of them this time around.
Harry . . . .
Rather than subsiding, the trembling in his legs seemed to be spreading throughout his entire body. There would be no undoing this, no apologizing. How could anyone possibly make amends for violating someone's trust as he'd done? Even if he somehow managed to pull himself together in the future and attain something like sanity again, Harry would hate him forever after this.
They were well and truly over.
He knew this was better for Harry. He'd already found a far more suitable lover. It would only be a matter of time before their entire affair faded from Harry's mind. Harry would be happy.
Severus tried to be noble and take comfort from that fact, but at the moment, he was shaking too badly to take comfort in anything. The only comfort he'd ever had in this world had just walked out the door.
The enormity of his transgression felt insurmountable.
The first sob escaped him as a strangely loud, hiccupping sound that echoed through the room like a pistol blast. The second followed close on its heels. By the time the third emerged, he was no longer conscious of the sounds he was making. All he knew was the miserable mess he'd made of his life.
His arms wrapped tight around his chest, Severus lowered his head and let the tears he'd resisted for two bitter months claim him.
*~*~*
It was nearly seven a.m. when Harry slipped back into John Shepford's room at the Whistling Witch. The sun was just starting to rise on another dreary grey day.
John was up, fully dressed, and closing the zipper on his travel bag when Harry entered.
"Hi," John said with a smile. His hair was still damp from the shower. He looked sexy as hell.
"Hi," Harry replied, hoping that his smile didn't look as forced as it felt.
"I'm glad you made it back," John said, moving closer.
Harry supposed that it was too much to hope that John would fail to notice the instinctive freeze his body gave. He might be mad as hell at Severus, but there was still a part of him that felt he'd been unfaithful, for all that Severus was ultimately responsible for his fall from grace.
Unfortunately, John was clearly highly sensitized to emotion. He halted right outside his personal space. A confused look coming over him, John asked, "Did I do or say something wrong?"
"No," Harry quickly assured. Running a hand through his wrecked hair, he said, "My life just got real complicated all of a sudden."
Harry knew that 99% of the men he'd had affairs with would have made some sympathetic noise and glossed over what he'd said had he given them a line like that on the morning they were leaving town. But John reached out to lay a non-threatening hand on his arm and asked, "What's going on? You seemed fine all weekend."
"For someone who'd been brainwashed," Harry couldn't help but mutter.
"Huh?" John asked, understandably confused.
"It's a long story," Harry said, wanting to spare John the melodrama. He already felt guilty as hell for slipping out on the guy as he had last night.
"I don't have to be at the airport for five hours. I've got time," John offered.
"You don't need to spend it listening to my sob story."
"Harry, you've been a friend to me. Where I come from, we look after our friends. Come on. Sit down on the end of the bed here." John guided him over to take a seat beside his carryall and then asked, "What's going on? You look like you were sucker punched."
It took him a moment to translate the Muggle reference, and then an even longer moment to try to figure out how to explain what had happened to him. Finally, he said, "I was, in a way. It's . . . a little hard to explain what happened. We talked a lot about magic this weekend. But there are things wizards can do that I didn't go into, mostly because they weren't the sort of things you were likely to run into in the Muggle world."
"That makes sense," John said in a very calm tone, taking a seat a foot or so away from him on the bed and turning to look at him. "Did you run into one of those things?"
"Sort of. Well, actually, I ran into it before I met you."
"What sort of thing are we talking about here?" John asked. "One of those Unmentionables?"
"Unforgivables," Harry automatically corrected, "and, no, it wasn't one of them, thank God. Though, it might as well be. It's the same type of transgression."
"So someone cursed you?" John asked. In between the sex, Harry had given his American lover a crash course on magic. John was a fast study, and they'd both enjoyed it. However, there was only so much a person could learn about magic in two days. He could see John trying to work within his limited parameters of understanding.
"No, it's not a curse, exactly. More like a manipulation," Harry explained.
Which, of course led John to his next question of, "What type of manipulation?"
"Some very powerful wizards are able to combine their magic and will to perform a type of telepathy. A wizard I've been sexually involved with in an exclusive relationship since October used that kind of telepathic skill to make me forget about our relationship," Harry said. "I only remembered because the dream I had last night triggered the memories."
"He what?" John looked horrified. "Your lover did this to you?"
Harry suspected that he'd sounded pretty much the same when Severus had told him about his past on Christmas night. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself together enough to answer, "Yeah. He's . . . been through a lot lately and he's not really thinking straight right now. A few months ago, we came up against one of those dark wizards I was telling you about. My friend was captured and tortured. By the time we got him back, he was barely alive. He hasn't been himself since. In his own fucked up way, I think he thought he was doing it for my own good."
Harry was surprised to see all the anger fade from John's features.
"You know that I'm, ah, in the military," John said softly after a long pause. "I've been there myself a time or two. Everyone likes to believe they won't break. When you come up against something that shows you different, it's . . . hard to face. It can take months or even years before you start feeling yourself again. I'm not excusing what he did, but I know that right after I got back, I was crazy for months, even if no one could tell but me."
"You were tortured?"
John nodded. "A couple of times. I'm, ah, not really allowed to discuss the details. But, if your friend felt like I did afterwards, he's going to be unstable for a long while."
"I know he's not thinking clearly. It's just . . . ." Harry couldn't even begin to capture the scope of the betrayal he felt with words.
"It hurts, I know," John said. "Do you love him?"
Right now he was so angry at what Severus had done, he wasn't even certain of that answer. Another deep breath helped clear his head some, helped him see the big picture of what he stood to lose here. "I . . . yeah, I do. I'm furious over what he did, but . . . I still love him."
"Then maybe you should talk to him," John suggested.
"Yeah," Harry said. "But not until I calm down. Right now all I want to do is blast him into the stratosphere."
"That's understandable."
Struck by the concern in that handsome face, Harry said, "Not many guys would be this supportive about this kind of thing. Thanks, John."
That adorable blush took John's cheeks again as he reminded, "I suck at one night stands, remember?"
"A fact I'm very grateful for," Harry said. Quiet descended between them and they simply stared at each other. After a time, he broke it with, "I know this development changes everything, but I really am sorry to see you go. You're a good man."
"So are you," John said. "I really appreciate everything you taught me this weekend. I think I've finally got an idea of what I can do."
"It was fun."
"Yeah, it was." John looked away for a minute, gulped and looked back at him. "I, ah, probably should be heading down to the train station."
"If you wanted to have breakfast first, we could floo to London afterwards. Or I could apparate us straight to the airport. No one would see us arrive," Harry assured.
"Apparation is that teleportation you were talking about?"
Seeing John's interest, Harry found a smile and said, "Yeah."
