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Chapter Text

Alive.

Severus still couldn't fully believe that fact applied to him. The surreal realisation would drop into the pit of his stomach at random times, such as now. Everything around him in his private quarters was familiar, seemingly ordinary: the scent of leather and stone, the slight chill, the stillness. But that he was breathing, about to start another day… Severus shook his head with equal parts incredulity and disgust.

He resumed spreading an even layer of tart blackcurrant jam over his toast. After setting aside the butter knife, he took a bite. Severus chewed and gazed out the glass of his underwater conservatory. Long strands of tangleweed moved with the lake's currents. A squad of Grindylows dashed past, hunting amongst the swaying, green towers. Craning his head, he looked up into the water's depth, then sighed.

Severus had always felt like a bottom-dweller, and living in the dungeons for over a quarter of a century had only reinforced that opinion. The above faint glow of sunlight, the symbol of hope and life for so many, seemed as though it would forever be beyond his reach.

He unconsciously touched his free hand to his chest.

Turning away from the lake, he focused his attention on the stacks of unread Daily Prophets arranged around the table like knights of old awaiting their king. The accumulation was due to his month-long recovery from his near-fatal fangs-to-neck chat with Nagini. Since the war's end, Severus had been safely cloistered away in St Mungo's from prying press; salivating rumour-mongers; and bleeding-hearted dunderheads, most of which were annoying Gryffindors. Or so he'd been informed by the exasperated healer-in-charge, Hippocrates Smethwyck.

Severus had been brought out of his induced coma only three days prior, and he'd returned to the scarred castle just the previous evening. Technically, he was still Headmaster, but he'd decided to forgo the lofty Headmaster's tower and had returned to his true home down in the dungeons, which had mostly been spared any harm.

Perhaps, the truth of it was, his banishment from the sun had always been self-imposed or—self-inflicted.

Severus wiped his fingers on a napkin. Then, pointing his wand at the bell pull hanging beside a tapestry of magical flora and fauna, he wordlessly rang the kitchen.

Pop.

He glanced at the house-elf that appeared to his left and recognised her as Whimsy.

She curtseyed. "Good morning, Headmaster." Beaming at him, she said, "I and many others were very worried about you. We are so happy you have returned, sir. How may I be of service?"

Severus cleared his throat, nonplussed by her effusive greeting. "Yes. Good morning to you as well. I'm done eating, but please leave the tea alone."

"Of course, Headmaster. I shall make sure your pot stays full until you say otherwise."

He gave her a nod. "Thank you."

A second later, Whimsy along with the remains of his breakfast vanished.

Severus shook his head. To go from being despised to venerated would take some getting used to.

Returning to the task at hand, he selected the topmost newspaper from a chronologically ordered pile. The special evening edition was dated Sunday 2 May 1998: Rather a momentous day. The day Harry Potter slew the Dark Lord, once and for all. And the day Severus thought he'd breathed his last.

The Prophet's front-page title was unexpectedly succinct: VICTORY!

Below the bold headline, an obscenely large picture of Potter almost smothered the entirety of the page. His face was covered in dirt and fresh bruises. Potter looked exhausted, relieved, but also somewhat fearful. Perhaps the enormity of now having a future felt overwhelming. Or perhaps he was frightened because he momentarily doubted that the Dark Lord was forever dead.

Severus could relate. He lifted the left sleeve of his white shirt and, once again, quickly checked that his Dark Mark was only a faded scar.

On the following pages were articles about those who rose to the occasion, such as Longbottom and the Weasleys, and those who had fallen from grace, such as the Malfoys. People who had lost their lives, whether Light or Dark, were also listed.

After reading the paper, front to back, Severus snorted in dark amusement. His name was nowhere to be found—which was, frankly, unsurprising. Although he was a touch chagrined due to his injured pride, he felt reassured. Everything considered, Severus would rather be forgotten than rotting away in Azkaban. He also knew the apathy towards him hadn't lasted long once Potter had opened his mouth. The three large bags of unopened fan letters sitting in his lounge like a trio of unwelcome guests were a testament to that.

Severus set the finished newspaper onto the floor, starting a new pile. After pouring himself a fresh cup, he took a sip of the hot, strong brew before picking up his next Prophet.

Potter was on the front page again, this time flanked by Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. The damage to Hogwarts was evident in the background. Potter glanced to his right at Granger, then to his left at Weasley, giving them each a soft smile touched with bittersweetness. When Potter again faced straight ahead, Severus paused before bringing the paper closer. Past Potter's fringe, he noticed what appeared to be a forming bruise or rash. He understood Potter must have been busy navigating his many accolades. But wasn't Potter capable of asking for a potion? Then again, with the number of people who sustained injuries during the final battle, Potter likely didn't want to cease residing in a place known as martyrdom.

Severus' lips twitched. As if he were one to talk.

With the topic of potions on his mind, he reminded himself to speak with Poppy about restocking the Hospital Wing.

He continued to peruse the paper at his leisure, intermittently enjoying his tea.

The third Prophet he picked up made him roll his eyes. Splashed across the top was SEVERUS SNAPE: WIZARD OF COURAGE OR COWARDICE? The same picture that had been used to announce his promotion to Headmaster accompanied the article. Joining him on the front page, of course, was Potter. By the looks of it, he was striding through the Ministry, a determined expression on his face.

Severus frowned. The marks on Potter's forehead seemed to have darkened somewhat.

Odd.

And possibly worrisome.

What if Potter had caught an ailment, such as Dragon Pox or Spattergroit?

He placed the unfinished newspaper down and skipped to the next. Reviewing the photographs of Potter, he could see a hint of varying colours. But ones not associated with illness.

Could it be?

Severus rushed to grab the following Prophet.

Now he could clearly see the indistinct shapes on Potter's forehead had sharpened. Yes, it seemed the Dark magic of the Horcrux that once inhabited Potter had prevented the physical manifestation of his soul, a distinctive mark, which should have occurred alongside puberty.

When two people had identical marks, they were destined for each other, and their souls would yearn for the other until they fully joined. The younger generation coined the anglicised word starmark to refer to it, while Severus preferred to use the traditional term stella (plural stellae), Latin for star or constellation. However, the word for referencing a witch's or wizard's match or a matched pair hadn't suffered from a generational divide; conpar (plural conpares), also used as a term of endearment, meant beloved, perfect match, mate, and spouse—although automatic marriage between conpares was no longer a part of wizarding law.

Muggles, too, had a word for the concept: soulmates.

Gaining a stella took no effort; the hard part was a witch or wizard finding their conpar. A conpares' stellae may be twins in shape, but they appeared randomly on the body, much of the time hidden beneath garments. Though, with Potter's stella being on his face, he was bound to identify his conpar in record time.

Severus gritted his teeth, bitterness rising and lapping against his heart. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When his mind was suitably clear, he returned to his reading.

Soon, however, an uneasiness began to creep along Severus' spine.

Then, a short time later, when he lifted another newspaper, he paled.

"It can't be…"

He tossed the paper aside and scrambled for the next and then the next again.

"No! It's impossible!" Severus snarled in frustration and increasing fear. He could only ever see glimpses of Potter's stella past his damnable hair, but what he could see was looking frighteningly familiar.

Standing abruptly, Severus dropped the Prophet onto the table as if it were a cursed object. Remembering what Minerva had mentioned the previous evening at dinner, he glanced at a nearby clock. He then charged towards the exit, not bothering with donning his robes.

The instant his quarter's door slammed shut, Severus sped forwards down the long corridor toward the first set of many stairs. As he made his way, Severus fixated on how the absurd possibility he was contemplating would be snuffed out shortly. But beneath all his fear and anger, he was unable to stop a seed of hope from taking root.

While approaching the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office—Severus still found it difficult to call it his office—he noticed part of the stone creature's face was missing, one of the few repairs left that needed to be completed. He couldn't decide whether the damage made its appearance worse or better.

The gargoyle bowed its head to him and moved aside: no password required for the Headmaster. Severus hurried onto the moving staircase and immediately began to rise, his body steadily spiralling upwards, while his thoughts spiralled further downwards.

After he came to a stop, Severus charged ahead and flung open the door. Storming inside, he found Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, and Potter standing below Dumbledore's portrait. Startled by his entrance, the trio had turned around as one, stances wide and wands drawn.

Potter, the first to realise there was no imminent danger, lowered his arm. "Professor Snape," he courteously greeted. He straightened into a more relaxed position and moved aside his fringe, proudly displaying his fully formed stella, a stunning galaxy of freckles and spots. Its colouring was especially eye-catching: greens and blues swirling into purples and reds with flecks of shimmering gold.

Severus' breath caught at the sight of it. He'd found his answer. And it seared his very soul.

Unequivocally, he now knew: Because of his past bitterness, hatred, and jealousy, Severus had destroyed any chance to know real love.

He knew this because Harry Potter was his conpar.

Harry didn't know what to make of Professor Snape after he'd burst into the room as if an army of Dementors were chasing him. Currently, Professor Snape was just standing there, silent and wide-eyed. At first, Harry hadn't recognised him; while at Hogwarts, he'd never seen him in anything but billowy robes. Seeing him wearing only black trousers and a white shirt, Harry was shocked at the revealed lines of his fit form.

"Mr Potter…" Professor Snape said softly, politely addressing him for the first time ever.

He and Professor Snape took an involuntary step toward the other. They then froze, both looking stunned at their actions.

Flushing, Harry clenched his fists. Why did his insides feel like a nest of Devil's Snare? The last time he'd been in Professor Snape's presence, Professor Snape had been unconscious in hospital, an empty shell compared to his usual formidable self. Since witnessing Professor Snape's near-death, Harry had gained much insight and had vowed to protect him as best he could. He still didn't necessarily like Professor Snape, but he did feel some newfound respect for him. "Sir—"

"Severus! There you are!" Professor McGonagall sternly shouted, entering the office. The herbal scent of heather also entered along with her as she strode further inside. "You said you'd be busily ensconced in your quarters for the day, so I went all the way down to the dungeons to retrieve you. And then to find you here of all places." She gave Harry a side glance before shaking her head, a tug of a smile on her lips. "You do know I'm no longer a spring hen."

At first, Professor Snape appeared amused, but a moment later, his brow furrowed. "Why did you need me?" he cautiously asked her. His gaze flickered to Harry, then away.

"Not did," Professor McGonagall retorted, "do. I finished reviewing Gringotts' audit of Hogwarts' protections."

Harry briefly met Ron's and Hermione's eyes at the news.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I'm sorry to have to cut short your conversation with Professor Dumbledore."

"It's alright," Harry said, smiling warmly. "We were about finished anyway. Have a nice day, Professors."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron made to leave when Professor Snape spoke: "There's no need to prematurely end your visit. I'm sure you also wanted to enjoy a chat with your Head of House while here. And since you all should be seventh-years, I'm confident a conversation about Hogwarts' protections won't be completely beyond you."

"Certainly not," Professor McGonagall agreed, looking fondly at her Gryffindors.

Harry was gobsmacked by Professor Snape's offer. By the expressions on Ron's and Hermione's faces, they felt the same.

"Then, let's sit," Professor Snape said, moving to claim the seat behind the desk.

Professor McGonagall waved her wand, and four chairs appeared opposite him. Professor McGonagall sat on the far left chair, followed by Ron, Hermione, and Harry at the other end.

"Minerva," Professor Snape said, "what is the audit's conclusion?"

Professor McGonagall pinched her lips together. "The conclusion is a hard potion to swallow. The defences keep collapsing because of the Keystones. They must be renewed."

All colour fled from Professor Snape's face.

At Professor Snape's reaction, Harry asked, "What's so bad about renewing these Keystones?"

"They're mentioned in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione answered first. "There were four in total, each founder creating one. Just finding them might be the challenge; their locations have been lost over the centuries." She regarded Professors Snape and McGonagall. "Unless that's only a lie to protect them."

"Unfortunately, Miss Granger," Professor Snape replied, "it is not. Hogwarts likes its mysteries, for instance, why it insists on keeping me on as Headmaster." He sighed wearily. "As Headmaster, it shall be my responsibility to restore the Keystones because of my connection to Hogwarts. However, the magic required is considerable. Professor Dumbledore, or even the Dark Lord, would have been capable, but I am not."

"Couldn't you use a magical donator?" Ron asked.

Everyone looked at him with mild shock.

Ron snorted. "Always with the surprise." Grinning crookedly, he shrugged his shoulders. "I know about them because Bill had to use one sometimes when he worked in Egypt."

Professor Snape slowly nodded. "The donator would need to have substantial magical reserves. For that, we'll probably have to search abroad. Besides needing to consider the school's security, the donator's magic will have to be compatible with mine. Finding and thoroughly vetting potential donators could take months"—he grimaced—"which means next term will likely have to be postponed."

At Professor Snape's words, Hermione suddenly sat straighter in her seat. "Harry might be able to help," she blurted.

Harry and Ron stared at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"What?" she asked, feigning innocence. "You were Voldemort's magical equal. Surely, you have the raw power required."

Harry could have throttled her. What was she thinking! With how confusing his emotions were towards Professor Snape, spending even more time with him was the last thing he needed.

"There's still the matter of where they could be," Professor McGonagall reminded them.

Harry winced, knowing he should speak up. "Well, maybe we already know the general location of one: Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets."

"You're right!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. "But…"—she thought for a sec—"being able to say open in Parseltongue may not be enough." Hermione studied Harry's forehead. "Can you still speak it?"

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Er…I don't know." He looked around the room. "I'll need something with a snake on it to try."

"Allow me," Professor Snape said. He flicked his wand, and a lovely young Sunbeam Snake appeared in his left hand.

Smiling, Harry admired its iridescent black scales…and how graceful Professor Snape's long fingers looked—

Harry started, blinking hard. Wait a minute. What was he doing thinking about Professor Snape's anything? He flushed pink.

"Er, thanks, Professor," Harry managed to say.

Harry clenched his hands. What he needed to do now was focus.

Looking intently at the snake, he spoke: "Hello?"

The snake turned towards his voice.

"Can you understand me?" Harry asked.

"Yes…" the snake replied, nodding its little head. It began to slither off Professor Snape's palm onto the table and towards Harry. "Hungry. Want plump frog."

Harry chuckled and lowered his hand for the snake to climb onto it. Grinning, he looked up. Professor Snape was staring at him, his face expressionless; however, his smouldering eyes told another story. Harry unexpectedly felt himself fall into Professor Snape's dark, penetrating gaze, and for the first time since he could remember, he felt…safe.

"So, mate," Ron said, breaking the spell, "it seems you can still speak it."

Harry inhaled a shaky breath. "Yeah," he agreed weakly.

"While you're here, Mr Potter," Professor Snape smoothly added, "we should test to see if our magics are compatible, that is, if you're willing to help."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling surprised and somewhat alarmed, "yeah, sure…" He bent down and set the snake on the floor to explore. "Er, what do I have to do?"

"Can you wandlessly call your magic at will?" Professor Snape asked. "It's not a common ability."

Harry nodded. "Yes, I can."

Professor Snape stretched out his right arm, palm facing upwards. "Then place your hand face down on mine."

Harry's stomach and heart began to do the waltz under his ribcage. "Okay." He laid his palm on Professor Snape's and almost gasped, warm electricity suffusing his skin where they touched.

"Go ahead and form a sphere of power beneath your hand," Professor Snape instructed, his voice sounding unusually rough. "It doesn't need to be much; about the size of a Snitch shall suffice."

Harry swallowed hard. "Alright." He licked his lips, then concentrated on pushing a trickle of his magic where his wand would typically be.

When Harry's power began to pool and swirl between them, interacting with Professor Snape's aura, he had to refrain from moaning. The charged heat that had been localised to his hand was spreading, and the odd, yet pleasurable, sensation was causing him to harden in his trousers.

"That's enough," Professor Snape said a tad too sharply. He cleared his throat. "I must partially open my Occlumency shields before we can continue." For a few seconds, he shut his eyes. "Now," he said, keeping his lids closed, "gently push your magic towards me."

Harry mentally offered the glowing orb, and with no effort at all, Professor Snape's magic accepted it.

Sharply inhaling, Professor Snape abruptly retracted his arm.

Harry thought he saw a flash of unbridled desire on Professor Snape's face but, on second glance, knew he must have imagined it and had only projected his own feelings. As usual, Professor Snape looked as blank as a plain sheet of parchment.

"A success," Professor Snape said without inflexion, the truth of the statement questionable in Harry's opinion.

Harry nodded dumbly, just glad he hadn't been standing; the rush he'd felt had nearly made him come in his pants. Merlin, if that was the effect of a small transfer, he thought in a mild panic, how am I going to get through this without making a fool of myself? He imagined being all alone with Professor Snape and gulped.

"Hey," Harry said, looking at Hermione, Ron, and Professor McGonagall, "did you want to come along down to the Chamber?"

Hermione and Ron shared a look.

"No offence, mate," Ron said, "but we're good. I reckon Hermione and I have had our fill of the place."

"And I'm too…wise to go traipsing through the plumbing," Professor McGonagall said wryly.

"It seems it shall have to be just you and me, Mr Potter," Professor Snape said. "Will that be a problem?"

"No, sir," Harry answered while internally screaming the opposite.

"Then I shall see you tomorrow at nine a.m. outside the Chamber's entrance."

Hermione suddenly giggled, grabbing everyone's attention.

"What?" Harry asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said, waving a hand. "Just a silly thought. I was thinking about how strong bonds can strengthen the casting of protections. And then I thought, what if you and Professor Snape were conpares!" She chuckled. "Just imagine! The potential magical charge would be enormous!"

"Yes…" Professor Snape drawled, standing up to leave. "Just imagine."

Harry grinned at Professor Snape's dry tone. Then, brushing his starmark with his fingers, for a short second, he did imagine him as his conpar. And for some reason, the thought made Harry's heart skip a beat.

Chapter Text

The missive from Mr Potter had been surprising. There wasn't much to it, just a short sentence suggesting he bring a broom. And if that note was now tucked away in the pocket nearest Severus' heart, that was beside the point.

Standing stoically, Severus was still reeling from the vivid dreams he had of Mr Potter during the night. He'd, of course, dreamt of his conpar in the past, but they'd always been a faceless, sexless shadow. Dreaming of being held, being cherished and loved, then waking up this morning and seeing the stark fact that he'd come in his sleep: that was a whole other level of humiliation.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Miss Warren floated into view.

"Why, Professor Snape," she crooned, "you're looking dapper today." She moved closer and giggled.

He glanced at her and lifted a brow. All he'd done differently was tie his hair back with a black ribbon, and he'd done it for purely practical reasons, or so he told himself.

Severus heard the soft tap of shoes from outside. He turned around and watched as Mr Potter entered the bathroom.

"Good morning, Professor," Mr Potter greeted, walking closer.

"Good morning," he replied with a nod of his head.

Mr Potter appeared less rumpled than usual. He had on jeans that were a tad too ill-fitting, but instead of a plain tee, he wore a proper shirt. A smart black leather jacket finished off the outfit. His dark fringe was parted to the side and perfectly framed his stella.

"Harry," Miss Warren said, "you're looking dapper today as well." She grinned impishly.

Mr Potter turned bright red. "Er, thanks, Myrtle."

Miss Warren eyed them and then hummed. "Well, I hope you enjoy your date."

While Mr Potter spluttered and Severus bit his tongue, she cackled, fleeing into her toilet.

Severus huffed. A date. A ridiculous notion. Although…if the Horcrux hadn't affected Mr Potter's stella, they would have dated, courted rather, until Mr Potter was of age. They would have had years to get to know and understand one another. The Dark Lord had robbed them of that.

But…now was their chance. Mr Potter was speaking to him, spending time with him. Severus couldn't waste this opportunity.

"Mr Potter," he said, enjoying the sight of his still flushed cheeks, "if you would open the entrance."

Mr Potter gave him a stilted nod. "Alright." He moved closer to a huddle of sinks, then looked over his shoulder. "Professor, unless you want to get dirty,"—his cheeks darkened again to Severus' amusement—"I, er, I recommended you use your broom. To go down the shaft, er, passage, that is." He inhaled a deep breath. "Just be careful not to go too fast."

Severus tactfully ignored all the possible double entendres. "No need to worry." Unable to resist, he deadpanned: "I know how to use a broom."

"Yes," Mr Potter stammered. "Of course." He looked absolutely mortified.

After quickly turning around, Mr Potter peered down at the sink with a snake-engraved tap. A second later, he uttered a soft hiss. Severus shivered at the sound.

Immediately, gears began to clack, and the marked sink slowly lowered, revealing a dark hole. A cool breeze brushed against Severus' face. But he also felt a chill on his nape, as though all the warmth around him had drained away.

As Mr Potter mounted his broom, Severus conjured two glowing spheres. He sent one towards the passage.

Mr Potter gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks," he said, stirring Severus' heart. He then dove down and disappeared out of view.

After guiding his own light source a short distance into the opening, Severus climbed onto his broom. He rose as high as the ceiling allowed before gliding in after Mr Potter. The tunnel's slope was gradual, but the space tight, so he kept his body as flush to his broom as possible.

The abrupt arrival of the passage's end forced Severus to whirl around and fly upwards. He gracefully somersaulted, coming to a stop next to Mr Potter.

Mr Potter beamed at him. "Great flying, sir."

Severus gave him a nod of acknowledgement, but inside, he, too, was grinning.

"The place looks a lot different since last I was here," Mr Potter commented. "Ron and Hermione did mention it had flooded. I just hope the Chamber isn't as bad."

As they travelled along the tunnel, Severus gasped when he saw a shed Basilisk skin. Part of it was sadly submerged, but much of it was still salvageable. He wondered if Mr Potter would be amenable to returning.

Not long after, they came to a stop before an imposing door decorated with snakes. Focusing on the reptilian images, Mr Potter quietly said another phrase in Parseltongue. The successive sounds of multiple locks sliding open echoed loudly around them like a great beast's restored heartbeat. Severus swallowed hard and gripped his wand more firmly.

The door swung free. Sconces on towering columns and the periphery of the Chamber ignited, banishing the pitch blackness within. Mr Potter steered his broom into the room first. Severus closely followed, looking to-and-fro, assessing their surroundings. Floodwaters still covered much of the floor, but a small, elevated area beneath Slytherin's great statue was dry. The snake motif continued inside, stone carvings of them seeming to make the walls move. Severus wasn't positive, but he could swear he heard occasional hisses coming from varying directions. Luckily for him, he was used to Slytherin's overbearing aesthetic.

As they flew deeper into the Chamber, Severus craned his head and peered upwards. The ceiling was so high, a blanket of shadow shrouded it.

"Mr Potter," he said, bringing his broom to a stop.

"Yeah?" Mr Potter manoeuvred himself next to Severus.

"During construction," Severus started to explain, "a Keystone is usually the last stone placed. That means they tend to be at a room's apex, sealing and securing all other spellwork. We'll have to thoroughly investigate the ceiling here before we continue."

"Sounds good, sir." Mr Potter aimed his wand at the illumination orb Severus had made for him. A blast of magic hit it, and the sphere brightened. He then did the same for Severus'. "I'll go ahead and search everything to the left." He gave him an excited grin, then zoomed upwards.

Severus shook his head in amusement. Gryffindors.

After combing every inch of the area and finding nothing, they dismounted their brooms at the base of Slytherin's statue. Although the looming bust had no irises or pupils, its stare was far from blank and exuded an ominous superiority.

Mr Potter snorted, not looking an ounce impressed.

Severus frowned. "What is it?"

"Just remembering how bloody pretentious Voldemort had been. Now,"—Mr Potter inhaled a calming breath—"let's see if I can do this without having to look at a snake." Staring at Slytherin's thin mouth, he spoke.

Nothing happened.

Mr Potter pressed his lips together. "Professor, was that in English or Parseltongue?"

"Parseltongue."

Mr Potter sighed. "Then saying open wasn't enough." He grimaced. "I can't see myself repeating what Voldemort said. 'Greatest,' my arse…" He shrugged. "Maybe if I just ask nicely."

"Ask…nicely?" Severus said with incredulity.

"Yeah. Why not? It won't hurt to try."

Focusing on Slytherin's stone face again, Mr Potter hissed a longer phrase. The sibilant utterances sounded disconcertingly seductive, and Severus had to refrain from fidgeting.

There was a slight pause before the statue's mouth rumbled open, its lips forming an O.

"Yes!" Mr Potter shouted. Wasting no time, he sent his light into the exposed tunnel.

"Wait," Severus warned as Mr Potter took a step. From what he could see, the passage looked clear, dry, and straightforward, but he wanted to check for traps and curses to be safe.

After doing a litany of tests, every spell came back negative.

Grinning, Severus lowered his wand. "We can proceed," he said, a thrill whirling through him. He felt gleeful at the prospect of further exploring Salazar Slytherin's private chambers. Finding one of the Keystones was beginning to look promising. But—he reined in his excitement—even if they did locate one, they'd need to uncover three more. Still, compared to discovering the whereabouts of all the Dark Lord's Horcruxes, this would be a piece of piss.

"You have made me curious," Severus commented, glancing at Mr Potter and then back to the statue. "What did you say to it?"

"Er," Mr Potter said, somewhat flustered, "I simply asked it to please open its mouth."

Severus snorted. "Of course. Gryffindor straightforwardness. Well, what matters is that it was successful. Good work."

Mr Potter blushed. "Th-Thank you, sir. I, er, I'll go." He fled into Slytherin's gaping maw.

Making a face, Severus followed. He understood Mr Potter would be uncertain how to interact with him given their past, but Mr Potter was acting jumpier than a toad on a chopping board. Severus would need to remember to be more prudent with his overtures.

The passage led to a large oval hall, likely where the Basilisk had slept. Five doors could be seen along a curved wall. Again, they fully investigated the space before moving on.

Then, starting on the left, they cautiously opened the first door.

Severus drew in a breath at the sight of what was inside: a Potion master's dream, a paradise of worktops, cauldrons, and stirring rods of various materials. One worktop was made entirely of gold.

After Severus rested his broom next to the entrance, he felt like he was walking on clouds the more he looked around. Eventually, his feet carried him to a wall of cupboards. Holding his breath, he turned the knob of one and pulled.

Severus sighed.

Empty.

Someone, likely the Dark Lord, must have pinched all the stores. Even so, just standing where Salazar Slytherin once experimentally brewed was extraordinary. And as Headmaster, it wouldn't take too much effort to have what equipment remained moved to his private laboratory. He was surprised the Dark Lord hadn't taken off with everything. Though, as Severus continued to explore and found no books, he worried any containing information about the Keystones might be gone as well.

Mr Potter had grabbed a stirring rod tipped with an emerald and was absent-mindedly twiddling it as he ran his eyes over the arched stone ceiling. "This place is brilliant," he said, grinning. "I can't believe it's been down here all this time. Reminds me of when I first visited Gringotts."

Enjoying the weight in his left hand of a rare opal cauldron he'd selected for himself, Severus nodded. "Yes," he mildly agreed, his gaze landing on Mr Potter, then quickly moving away.

As Severus continued to discretely watch, he felt amused. He'd never witnessed Mr Potter this excited as far as potions were concerned. For Severus, however, bejewelled potion instruments aside, the charm system for exhausting fumes alone was intriguing enough to warrant further study. But such an endeavour needed to be saved for another time; currently, his attention was entirely too divided.

Mr Potter innocently, yet alluringly, groaned and stretched his neck. "I haven't found or sensed anything that could be a Keystone. You?"

"Same," Severus said, shoving aside his lustful thoughts. "Let's carry on."

With purpose, they strode towards the exit.

Mr Potter arrived a couple of steps sooner and picked up their brooms. He turned around and offered Severus' for him to take.

"Thank you," Severus said, placing his hand on the broomstick so that the bottom edge of his palm rested against Mr Potter's thumb and index finger.

At Severus' touch, Mr Potter parted his lips and shut his eyes. Severus, too, felt the blissful potential of their connection and savoured it.

Sadly, after what must have been only a few seconds, Mr Potter let go, belatedly husking a "You're welcome."

Although their shared moment was fleeting, Severus was pleased; this time, Mr Potter hadn't dashed off because of his advances: a definite step in the right direction.

"After you," Severus politely said.

Giving him a shy smile, Mr Potter crossed the threshold. He abruptly paused and looked down at his left hand, now no longer holding a stirring rod. "Where…" With a frown, he searched the floor.

Mr Potter turned around. "Sir—" His attention focused past him, and his eyes widened.

Severus followed his gaze.

There, on its original shelf, was the missing stirring rod.

The question of why the Dark Lord hadn't taken everything had its answer.

With a sigh, Severus glanced down at the opal cauldron in his grip. Then, knowing the sad inevitability, he stepped out.

To his enormous surprise, the cauldron remained in his hand. A bubble of laughter rose from Severus' chest, and he chuckled, a broad smile appearing on his face.

Mr Potter looked stunned, staring as if really seeing him for the first time.

Setting his broom down for a second, Severus conjured a storage box to place his newly acquired cauldron into. "It seems being Headmaster allows me to remove items. Would you like me to fetch the stirring rod for you?"

"Er, no, that's alright." Mr Potter grinned. "But if something catches my eye,"—his gaze took in Severus' face, then darted away—"I'll let you know."

Severus suddenly felt hot. Was he blushing? He certainly hoped he wasn't. It'd been years since Severus had experienced the sensation. However, whether he'd suffered from a reaction was moot, considering Mr Potter hadn't done anything to merit embarrassment or flattery. Severus was the one who had taken a simple turn of phrase out of context. Mr Potter was a Gryffindor; flamboyant flirtations and heroic deeds would be how he'd woo another.

To free his arms, Severus floated the box onto a nearby side table. He expected the box would be burdened with additional discoveries by the time they were done.

"Ready for the next one?" Mr Potter asked.

Severus nodded. "Lead the way."

Mr Potter guided them to the second door. Then, without hesitation, he opened it.

After glimpsing what was inside, they immediately split and leapt for cover behind either side of the doorcase.

Their chests heaving from an influx of adrenaline, they waited for retaliatory spells.

But nothing came.

They carefully peeked into the room. Severus flicked his wrist and sent their floating lights inside.

Mr Potter started to laugh, while Severus felt chagrined. What they'd thought was a group of hostile wizards and creatures was nothing more than a collection of duelling dummies. Save for the training equipment, the room's interior was spartan, so they made quick work of searching for the Keystone. But again, their efforts proved unsuccessful.

This time Severus led the way to the next door.

After effortlessly gaining entry to two rooms, discovering the middle of the five doors locked was a rude surprise. One long engraved snake decorated the way in, its body coiled round and round like a deadly whirlpool. The snake's triangular-shaped head moved and followed their every movement.

"Should I try talking to it?" Mr Potter asked.

Severus thought for a moment. "I believe we should check the two remaining rooms, then come back if needed. If this room does contain a Keystone, I'm not sure how a significant transfer of magic may affect us. Better to search what we can first."

"Alright." Mr Potter glanced at him and smiled. "I never thought I'd say this," he said as they began to walk, "but so far, we're making a good team."

Severus' heart jumped. "I…agree," he replied, attempting to sound reluctant rather than tongue-tied.

Thankfully, the fourth door was unlocked. And once the space was illuminated, Severus felt as in awe as he did when viewing Slytherin's potions laboratory. Before him was a library. A stunning library. Richly appointed with dark wood furniture and built-ins, it housed a priceless vault of knowledge. Countless tomes and scrolls made of papyrus, parchment, and silk neatly lined shelves, all of them beckoning to be opened and admired.

"Hermione would go absolutely mental," Mr Potter said as he stepped further into the three-storey space.

Severus felt irritation at the mention of Miss Granger's name. "Don't touch anything," he snapped.

Mr Potter winced.

Bollocks my damnable temper. "What I mean," he said less harshly, "is the library may contain cursed material that requires checking before handling."

"Oh." Mr Potter softly smiled. "I understand. Hermione had to do the same at Grimmauld Place." He laughed fondly. "Her having to wait to get her hands on all that she wanted to delve into nearly drove her mad."

Severus could just imagine what Miss Granger had wanted to get her hands on. Gritting his teeth, he kept his tongue from running amok. Instead, he gave Mr Potter a stiff nod of his head. "Yes. I remember. I was the sorry chap who had to assess a majority of the Black library."

"Really?" Mr Potter said, surprised. "I didn't know that. Wait… I think I remember something. Didn't Bill do some curse-breaking there also?" He whistled. "Merlin, it must have taken you ages."

Severus smirked. "Even with Mr Weasley's help, it did take some time. But during the process, I did learn a few things."

Arm straight, he pointed his wand. "Respicitenebris." After saying the spell, he slowly began to spin in a circle. As he moved, a layer of light would encase certain books and scrolls. By the time Severus was done, about a quarter of the library's contents were glowing. Some shone crimson, while others crackled an ominous black.

"Now you know what to be wary of," he explained. "Anything glowing black should be avoided at all costs."

Eyes wide, Mr Potter nodded. He walked towards the large table centred in the room, then froze. "Look," he exclaimed, gesturing. "I think I see another door." He dashed off to the left.

There indeed was another door, and it exactly matched the sealed one outside. It probably led to the same room as well. And predictably, the newly discovered door was also locked.

Severus turned around and scanned the opposite wall. "Mr Potter, there is another door there." He pointed. "It likely connects to the last room we have yet to investigate. What are your thoughts on what we should do next?"

"You're asking my opinion?" Mr Potter said, looking stunned.

"You were the one who said we were a team," Severus slyly replied.

Mr Potter chuckled, his fingers nervously fidgeting around his broom. "Yeah. I guess I did." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Well then, I reckon we should finish here first. While I fly up and take a closer look at the ceiling, you could start researching. Stick to our strengths."

Severus' eyebrows shot up. He agreed with everything Mr Potter had said. "An…acceptable plan. But first—" Making two circles in the air with his wand, he said, "Oculimei Keystone." He repeated the hand motion: "Oculimei lapisque angularis."

"Woah," Mr Potter breathed as about a dozen books and a few scrolls swooped towards them.

With a flourish of his wrist, Severus redirected the knowledge-laden projectiles onto the table in the middle of the library. He turned to Mr Potter. "Although you might have found it an amusing challenge to fly amongst barrelling tomes, it would have caused me to worry about harm befalling…the books."

Hearing his teasing tone, Mr Potter grinned. "And we wouldn't want that."

"No," Severus said softly, "we wouldn't." He cleared his throat. "Let's see what the spell found before you flutter off like a possessed Jobberknoll."

They strode to the central table. On it were a small pile of scrolls and two stacks of books: one tower consisted of those written in English and the other in Latin. Fortunately, none of them glowed with warning.

"You've no idea how handy that charm would have been," Mr Potter said, staring at him with what appeared to be admiration. "Could you teach me it?"

"I could…yes… It would be a small price to pay for all your help here"—and another opportunity to get Mr Potter to spend more time with him. "I'm not surprised Miss Granger didn't come across it. The charm wouldn't be in any random spellbook; I created the incantation myself."

"You created it?" Mr Potter looked rather impressed. "That's brilliant. And I'll definitely take you up on learning it sometime." Straddling his broom, he gazed upwards. "Well, I'm pants at Latin,"—he glanced at the formidable stack of books—"so I'll leave you to have fun with that." His eyes twinkled at him. "See you in a bit."

He felt the whoosh of air as Mr Potter took off.

Sighing, Severus pulled out one of the chairs around the table. He sat, then selected a book:

VIRTUS ET PRAESIDIUM PRO SCIENTIA
SALAZAR SLYTHERIN

He reverently stroked its cover, automatically translating the title in his mind: Power and Protection for the Knowledgeable. After inhaling a deep breath of aged paper and print, he turned to the first page.

A few minutes later, Mr Potter landed beside him.

"Anything?" Severus asked, writing notes on some parchment he'd brought along.

Mr Potter huffed. "Nothing." He set his broom aside, then took the seat next to him. "How about you?"

"I've already been able to confirm how to go about recharging the Keystones."

"Really?" Mr Potter said, grinning. "That's great."

"But," Severus continued, "I've still found no information on their whereabouts."

"Hopefully,"—Mr Potter grunted, lifting one of the heavy tomes—"we'll have more luck with these."

"Before you begin, I have something for you." Severus reached into a pocket and pulled out a black velvet bag. From it, he removed two magically chilled flasks. He hunted inside the bag again until his fingers found a pair of stainless-steel straws. Severus deftly opened the flasks' lids and inserted a straw into each. Hiding any trace of hesitancy, he handed a flask to Mr Potter.

"What's this?" Mr Potter asked.

"It's a concoction I created while in first year. Now I request it when I know I'll be busy brewing or researching. The recipe includes grains, veg, fruits, and a protein-supplement potion I tweaked."

"Huh," Mr Potter said with cautious interest. After a shrug, he slipped his lips around the straw and sucked. Severus gulped at the sight.

"Merlin…" Mr Potter took another long pull. "This is really rather good. And it has added protein?"

Severus nodded yes.

Mr Potter's expression looked thoughtful. "No wonder you're so tall and fit." At the realisation of what he had just said, he started to cough, his face turning a deep shade of red.

Severus chose not to comment on Mr Potter's slip of the tongue, but in his mind, he was shouting his elation from the rooftops.

A smile peeked from Severus' lips. "I'm glad you find it palatable."

In awkward silence, they returned to their research.

Three hours later, Mr Potter leaned forward and groaned.

They had been sitting for some time, Severus thought, noticing the numbness of his own arse.

"Mr Potter," he said, "I believe now would be a good time to stretch our legs."

Looking somewhat flustered and slightly dazed from the heaps of research, Mr Potter nodded. "Yeah…that sounds brilliant." He shifted in his seat. "Are we going to check on the doors?" He glanced across the room at one of the aforementioned doors.

"Yes, I believe that would be wise." Severus stood and grabbed his broom.

Mr Potter followed a second later. Then, together, they walked across the room to a simple panel door, their light spheres obediently staying close. Severus pulled on the door's serpent-shaped handle. Peering inside, he spotted a candle chandelier. Mr Potter beat him to it and lit the multitude of wicks with a swish of his holly wand.

They entered the room. Inside were a massive desk and its companion, a comfortable leather chair; a pleasant sitting area took up the other half of the room with a large unlit fireplace nearby. There was also one other door.

"A moment, Mr Potter." Severus quickly cast a broad curse-detection charm, different from the spell he'd used in the library. "Avoid anything that starts to hum when you approach it."

Mr Potter smiled. "Thanks, sir. I'll begin to look for the Keystone."

Severus nodded, gazing down the length of the room. "I'll join you momentarily."

While Mr Potter began to examine the study's ceiling, Severus strode to the uninvestigated door. He already had an idea of what would be on the other side, but he needed to check to be sure. After resting his broom against a wall, he twisted the door's knob and peeked out.

As predicted, the sight of the circular hall greeted him. He recalled what he'd left outside. Thinking it may be more convenient to have nearby, Severus opened the door wide and braced himself.

"Accio storage box."

He caught the box in his arms, and the cauldron inside rolled from the abrupt stop. After making sure he had a firm hold of the box and his wand, he closed the door.

As he turned, Severus spotted the dark fireplace.

"Incendio," he intoned and set ablaze the logs of Everlasting Ironwood in the firebox.

Severus let his eyes explore while the crackling flames warmed his legs. He noticed there were no portraits, which wasn't surprising; Slytherins weren't typically foolish enough to allow potential spies access to their private spaces.

"Sir," Mr Potter called out excitedly, "come take a look at this."

After reclaiming his broom, Severus joined Mr Potter in front of a long side table topped with magical instruments. Severus lowered his box onto its richly stained surface beside a contraption with gold and silver gears and a glass sphere filled with water. He hadn't the foggiest idea of what the object could be, which intrigued him. Severus floated his future side-project off the table into the box. Mr Potter also quickly added what appeared to be a spyglass of some sort.

"I didn't find a Keystone, but I did find something else," Mr Potter said. He tapped his wand on the empty wall above. "See."

There, like a spread of a most-craved-for meal, appeared a map of Hogwarts. The illustration showed a detailed bird's-eye view of the castle's exterior as well as every floor above and below ground. There were no people, but Severus could see the Whomping Willow swaying its branches, owls gliding in and out of the Owlery, and suits of armour adjusting their stances.

"Here," Mr Potter said, pointing a finger.

Severus read the writing nearest where Mr Potter had indicated: Private Chambers of Rowena Ravenclaw; and partly overlapping it was the Great Library. The location of Ravenclaw's private rooms didn't exactly make sense. Perhaps the map could automatically add changes but couldn't erase previously named places. At least he and Mr Potter now knew where Ravenclaw's chambers had been.

"I'm still looking for any mention of Godric Gryffindor or Helga Hufflepuff," Mr Potter informed him.

After a few minutes of methodically scanning the map, Severus found something. "There," he said, lifting his broom and tapping its handle between the Herbology Store and Greenhouse Three:

Private Chambers of Helga Hufflepuff.

"Excellent, sir!" Mr Potter exclaimed. "Now, all we need is Gryffindor's."

Again, he and Mr Potter scoured the map. But after much searching, they found nothing. However, they didn't come to a complete dead end.

"It must be somewhere there," Mr Potter said, gazing at the damaged section of the map.

The area encompassing the front of Hogwarts where the Entrance Courtyard and Great Hall should have been was missing; all that remained was a rough charred outline.

They shared a keen glance of agreement.

"Do you want to further explore or continue on?" Severus asked. "We could investigate the desk, but it might be time-consuming because of the likelihood of curses.

Mr Potter enticingly bit his bottom lip. "I think we should try the last room."

Severus gave a bob of his head in agreement. "If you could hold our brooms then. I'll bring along the box."

"Sure," Mr Potter said, claiming Severus' broom and his own.

Like the lovelorn dunderhead he was, Severus trailed after Mr Potter into the library. They paused for a moment so Severus could deposit the box on the table with their research before continuing to the locked door.

"Here you are," Mr Potter said, offering Severus' broom.

"Thank you," Severus replied and grasped it with his left hand.

They unsheathed their wands. Presently, the snake on the door was behaving, but since its species was of the poisonous variety, better safe than sorry.

Mr Potter wasted no time and started conversing with the pointy-snouted serpent. At first, the sibilant utterances between them were steady and polite. But gradually, their tones became sharper and more insistent. Considering the discomfort in his trousers, Severus thanked Merlin he'd worn his teaching robes.

Finally, with a last angry hiss from Mr Potter, the door swung open. He exhaled in relief.

"That was quite the barney," Severus commented, gazing into a revealed bedroom. "What was it all about?"

"First, we introduced ourselves to each other. Its name is Uraeus."

"Uraeus," Severus echoed, "a serpent emblem used by the ancient Egyptians; it symbolises supreme power."

Mr Potter looked into the room at the sumptuous bed and snorted. "Supreme power," he muttered under his breath. "Merlin," he said louder while playfully grinning at Severus, "Slytherins do seem to think rather highly of themselves."

"Which they have in common with every other house," Severus drawled.

Severus' eyes flashed with pleasure at Mr Potter's hearty chuckle.

"True," Mr Potter acquiesced. "At first, I thought Hufflepuff was the exception, but then I remembered Zacharias Smith." He shook his head with disgust.

"Anyway, getting back to what Uraeus and I spoke about," Mr Potter resumed explaining, "when I asked it to open the door, it refused because I didn't have any Slytherin blood. I explained about the Keystones and Hogwarts' safety, but it wasn't persuaded. We continued to uselessly quarrel until I remembered how important lineage is to Slytherins. So I told Uraeus how Voldemort had died, having never married"—he grimaced—"or had children, and since I can speak Parseltongue and am a descendant of the Peverell family, just like Voldemort, I have a claim to Slytherin's estate." He snorted out a laugh, then sighed. "And that's what did the trick,"—his expression grew mischievous—"Mr Half-Blood Prince."

Severus instantly felt his cheeks start to burn. "I believe we've dawdled long enough. We should continue."

This time, he was the one to flee, and he did so, sweeping into the bedroom first.

Severus' eyes only roamed around the room for a few seconds before he noticed it: on the ceiling, was a fist-sized emerald that simply screamed 'I am a magical object.' Mr Potter froze at his side, seeing it, too.

"We've found it," Mr Potter breathed.

A smile that Severus could feel brightening his darkened soul burst onto Mr Potter's face. Severus just wanted to close his eyes and bask in its warmth, wanted to pull the novel sweet stirrings of his heart around him and bury his face in it. But, as much as he would prefer to forget the past and ignore his present responsibilities, he couldn't. He couldn't let the magic between conpares carry him away.

"Yes, I believe so," Severus agreed. He mounted his broom. Rising into the air, he said, "Let us get a closer look."

Without preamble, Mr Potter skilfully hopped onto his own broom and followed.

Mr Potter respectfully watched Severus cast one charm after another, Severus' wand in sync with his pronunciation and intent: a spell to detect potential harm, another for magic levels, and so on.

By the time Severus was done, his expression had turned smug. "Mr Potter, I can confirm this is a Keystone."

Mr Potter smiled, then swallowed hard. "That's great, sir." His attention now flitted between random spots in the bedroom. "So…what do we need to do now."

"It's simple." Severus placed his palm onto the Keystone. He then took Mr Potter's hand in his and entwined their fingers. "Entrust your magic to me," he said tightly as the oneness of Mr Potter's touch tempted him, "and I'll do the rest."

"Okay," Mr Potter said softly, nodding shakily.

"There's no need to create a magical construct first," Severus elaborated. "When you're ready, directly offer your magic to me. But I have to completely open my mind first; I'll let you know when to begin."

Mr Potter again gave a nod of his head.

Severus closed his eyes. Since he'd mastered the mind arts, he hadn't fully dropped his mental protections. Never. Not once. This would be rather something, he knew.

Keeping his breathing steady, Severus lowered the first layer. He felt the rate of his heartbeat noticeably increase.

Another layer.

A heavy pressure of emotions started to gradually expand in his chest.

He continued until every protection was gone, every emotion raw and exposed to the dangers of abject vulnerability. Severus shuddered out a breath. He could feel unshed tears at the corners of his eyes and knew he couldn't risk opening them; doing so would risk them falling.

Severus inhaled deeply. "Now."

A split second later, blissful power poured straight into him. The sense of kindness, joy, and heat—delicious heat—expanded within him, filling the worn hollows and split scars of his psyche.

Gritting his teeth, he took Mr Potter's remarkable gift and directed it toward the Keystone.

Mr Potter's grip spasmed before tightening. Severus heard Mr Potter moan, and he wanted to vocalise his pleasure right along with him.

A choked moan escaped Severus' lips. His cock was achingly hard, and he could feel pre-come accumulating on its tip. Mr Potter's magic was sublime. Stunning in its pure goodness. Embracing him like a dear friend, filling him like a lover, perfectly balanced to his.

Power continued to thrum between Severus, Mr Potter, and the Keystone, building like a silent cosmic explosion.

And then the jewel above them flashed, causing the room to rumble and fill with emerald light.

Mr Potter cried out. Severus also came undone, and knowing that he was doing so while touching his conpar intensified his pleasure tenfold. He surrendered to it, letting it fill him to overflowing.

All too soon, it was over. Breathing raggedly, Severus' grimaced at the cooling sogginess of his pants. Being on a broom certainly didn't help his awkward situation either.

"Sir…I…"

He caught Mr Potter just before he went out like a light. He adjusted for a better hold and then checked Mr Potter's condition, which turned out to be a simple case of magical exhaustion. Mr Potter didn't look pale and was still warm to the touch: positive signs that he would recover quickly.

After landing on the bed, Severus comfortably situated Mr Potter. He rested Mr Potter's head on a pillow and then placed his glasses on a bedside table. As he glanced down, he did a double take: On Mr Potter's left thigh, a wet, creamy stain saturated his trousers, similar to the one Severus sported.

"Salazar save me," he muttered. Feeling such lust and affection for a person he'd loathed not long ago disturbed and confounded him. But perhaps it shouldn't. He'd always had an unexplainable drive to protect Mr Potter's life. However, he'd contributed his behaviour to the war effort or penance for Lily's death. Looking back, Severus understood those reasons had influenced his thinking, but the biggest reason for his neurotic actions was now obvious.

Once he had cleaned the evidence of his and Mr Potter's inadvertent orgasms, he also lay down. Severus positioned himself on his side and propped his head on his palm to more easily gaze at his conpar. He gently moved aside the fringe covering Mr Potter's stella. As he stared at the swirl of colours, it was as if he were staring at a whole other universe. Severus imagined what that universe might be like. He hoped it would be one where he protected Mr Potter with love instead of hate.

Severus chided himself; he needed to stop brooding over the past. His future was there, right beside him, resting soundly. The last vestiges of hate he'd felt for Mr Potter had softened and fallen off like a too ripe piece of fruit the moment Mr Potter's status as his conpar had been revealed.

For now, all Severus could do was hope Dumbledore's high regard for the power of love to overcome incredible odds was warranted.

He chuckled.

That he and Mr Potter were technically sharing a bed was an astounding type of magic all its own.

Chapter Text

Harry groaned in delight. He felt cosy and still buzzed pleasantly from the after-effects of the magical transfer. He also smelt something heady, like warm spices. Following his nose, Harry buried it further to get a deeper sniff when silky strands of hair unexpectedly tickled his face. He opened his eyes, then gasped.

Professor Snape was asleep next to him, no, more like on top of him. One of his arms was possessively wrapped around Harry's waist. Their legs were tangled, and he clearly recognised the hardness pressing against his thigh; his own dick was behaving just as inappropriately.

He attempted to wriggle away, but Professor Snape's sleep-addled hold on him tightened. Professor Snape then nuzzled his prominent nose against Harry's neck. Harry's breathing hitched. When Professor Snape's next movement resulted in Harry's erection being deliciously stimulated, Harry pressed his lips together and whimpered; he'd never been touched so intimately, and it embarrassingly made him recall the climactic outcome of fixing the Keystone.

And even earlier, the bizarre events in the library.

While researching next to Professor Snape, strange, random thoughts about said professor had begun to slip into Harry's mind. At first, they were harmless: Professor Snape warmly smiling at him or them sharing a stroll around the lake. But they'd eventually turned, becoming more suggestive and, alarmingly, more involved, like a waking dream or, to be more precise, like a waking wet dream: Because right there, while sitting next to him, Harry had come in his trousers with the image of Professor Snape's talented mouth doing things.

So, this meant he had orgasmed twice today with Professor Snape as the star of his fantasies.

Sighing, Harry shut his eyes. He was at a loss. Perhaps he was suffering from a weird sort of gratitude, his mind confusing Professor Snape's recent tolerance of him with affection. Harry would have to ask Hermione; she'd likely have an idea.

He felt Professor Snape's arm suddenly twitch and opened his eyes. What he found were a pair of fathomless depths, gazing at him with heated shock.

Jaw tight, Professor Snape hastily extricated himself from Harry's body. He then leapt off the bed. Professor Snape's robes billowed around him, hiding much, but based on his face's additional colour, Harry guessed the bulge of Professor Snape's trousers was still there.

Rather than stand, Harry decided to sit up. He crossed his legs and obscured his own stubborn erection with his left hand.

Professor Snape withdrew a silver pocket watch and checked the time. "It's late, but at least we haven't squandered the entire day."

Harry glanced at his own watch: five past nine. He winced. Ron and Hermione would be worried. "Sorry, sir, but I need to leave."

"Oh," Professor Snape said softly like a predator evaluating a potential strike. "Late for a date with one of your devotees, are you?"

Harry snorted. "No. Just dinner with my mates, well, more likely supper now. There's no bloody way Ron would have waited this long to eat."

Professor Snape's dour expression lightened slightly. "Then I shan't keep you any longer. But, first, we must sort out the mess we've made." After retrieving his broom, he strode towards the library.

Harry moved to do the same, but before exiting the bedroom, he slowed and looked down; he wanted to get rid of the stain he knew would be on his trousers.

He froze midstep.

Nothing was there.

Quietly groaning, Harry could die from embarrassment. Professor Snape had cleaned him up.

His eyebrows rose. Maybe that meant the magical donation affected Professor Snape the way it did him. Maybe Professor Snape had also orgasmed and decided he might as well tidy up Harry after doing so for himself.

He snorted. No. Professor Snape wasn't the kind of person who would lose control like that. He probably didn't even have lustful thoughts and considered anyone who did weak and stupid. Shaking his head, he resumed his step.

Once Harry entered the library, he watched as Professor Snape used his wand to reshelve some books and add others to their swag box. He looked pained, having to narrow down his selections. Right now, Professor Snape reminded him of Hermione. Harry smiled. Hermione was Harry's opposite in many ways, but they were still great friends. As impossible a thought as it was, perhaps Professor Snape and he could be the same.

"Don't worry, sir," he said, joining Professor Snape at the table. "If you want to visit again to collect more things, I can always open the way for you."

Professor Snape looked at him, warmth glinting in his eyes. "That's very generous of you;"—pleasure coursed through Harry at his words—"I will be sure to take you up on your offer after this fiasco with the Keystones is over."

Nodding like an idiot, Harry felt his heart rate jump. What was wrong with him? He'd just offered to spend even more time with Professor Snape.

Harry gasped as the library suddenly disappeared. After a short moment of blindness, he discovered himself in the Potions classroom. He glanced around.

Only Professor Snape was with him.

He opened his mouth to ask what was going on when Professor Snape began to unbutton his teaching robes. Harry instantly hardened, knowing where things were headed.

"Mr Potter," Professor Snape said, his low voice seeming to caress every inch of Harry's body.

"Yes, sir?" He took a step closer.

"Mr Potter!"

Slytherin's library abruptly reappeared, splashing atop Harry like an icy bucket of water. The sudden shift made him feel disoriented, and he grabbed hold of the table to steady himself. He looked to the side and found Professor Snape gazing at him, his expression a mixture of mild concern and annoyance.

"Sorry, Professor," he said, desperately willing his erection away. "Did you say something? I got lost in my thoughts." He noticed the box was off the table now and secured to the back of Professor Snape's broom. "Ready to go?"

"I am," Professor Snape drawled. His eyes narrowed, evaluating him further. "Because of our work with the Keystone, some protections will have been reinstated. I'll guide you to where you can safely Apparate."

Harry exhaled in relief when he wasn't asked any further questions; his dick was also, once again, behaving itself. "Thank you, sir."

With one last cursory glance, they mounted their brooms and sped for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Since no students were in attendance, he and Professor Snape continued travelling through the corridors by way of their brooms. Peeves surprised them with a volley of Malodorous Pods. But with skilful flying and shield charms, they avoided smelling like flatulence after overeating cabbage.

Professor Snape flicked his wand, and the door ahead banged open. First he and then Harry exited onto one of Hogwarts' covered walkways. The sunset had tamed the summer heat, and the fresh air felt pleasant against Harry's skin. He playfully weaved through a few columns before following Professor Snape toward the front gates.

Once they landed, Harry turned and gazed at Hogwarts through the gates' ironwork. The splendour of the castle, even with parts of it still in need of repair, never ceased to fill Harry with affectionate wonder. He inhaled a deep breath and smelt the scents of pine and birch from the nearby forest. Above Hogwarts, the moon was perfectly split down the middle: one half lit and the other hidden. Harry turned his attention back to Professor Snape. The torchlight from the gateposts, along with the illumination from their orbs, was enough for him to see Professor Snape's face.

"Mr Potter," Professor Snape said while unsheathing his wand, "please stand still. I'm going to check your magic levels."

"Alright, sir."

As Professor Snape cast the spell, the tip of his wand slowly moved up and down above Harry's chest, nearly touching him. Harry shivered as gooseflesh rose across his skin, and he tightened his hold around his broomstick to keep himself from fidgeting.

"Impressive, Mr Potter. Your magic is almost fully recovered."

"Does that mean we can try for another Keystone tomorrow?"

"If you so desire"—Professor Snape gave him a small, fleeting smile—"then yes."

Yes, Harry definitely desired—confusedly desired, worriedly desired—but desired, nonetheless. "Sure… How about the same time tomorrow? Which Keystone do you think we should try for next?"

Professor Snape thought for a moment. "I recall the Prophet forecasted rain, so let's search for Ravenclaw's next."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning outside the library then."

"Mr Potter, one second." From a pocket, Professor Snape pulled out the small telescope Harry had collected from Slytherin's office. He gently lifted Harry's hand before depositing the silver and green-enamelled object onto it. "You almost forgot."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, his heart fluttering.

Silently, Professor Snape gazed at Harry's face, then gave a stiff nod. "Goodnight, Mr Potter. Off you go."

The thought of leaving Professor Snape's side tore at him. But he managed to step away. "Night, sir."

After taking a deep breath, Harry concentrated, then twisted in place.

An instant later, he found himself standing in front of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Seeing the light shining through the ground floor's shabby curtains, he grinned. His friends were waiting for him.

After hurriedly entering and setting his broom down next to the troll-leg umbrella stand, he headed straight downstairs. Stepping into the kitchen, he found Hermione sitting at the table while Ron stood, preparing something on the worktop. Kreacher hovered near Ron, itching to help.

"Harry!" Hermione greeted, smiling brightly. "You're back!"

Ron turned and grinned at him as well. "Hi, mate. Good to see you're still in one piece."

"Hiya, guys," he said back.

Hermione pointed her wand at a plate of food in front of an empty chair. "Finite." Steam immediately began to rise from a helping of roasted chicken, potatoes, and veg.

Harry groaned in pleasure as he sat, the delicious smell of rosemary and butter making his mouth water. "This looks delicious, you guys. Thanks. Sorry for being so late."

"It's not a problem at all, Harry," Hermione said. She encouraged him to start eating with a wave. "We understand."

As Harry had his first bite, humming in rapture, Ron joined them at the table. Ron's left hand set down a bare plate while his right hand helped guide a ham sandwich into his mouth.

"Would Master or his friends care for tea?" Kreacher asked.

"That would be lovely, Kreacher," Hermione said.

"Yes, thank you, Kreacher," Harry added. After being down in the cold gut of Slytherin's chambers all day, a hot cuppa sounded great.

Kreacher guided three teacups through the air and onto the table. "Would Missy Hermione like sugar or milk? Or perhaps some fresh biscuits? Kreacher can also ready a bath if Missy Hermione wishes."

Giving Kreacher a kind smile, she replied: "No, thank you. But please help yourself to whatever you'd like and enjoy the rest of your evening."

Kreacher's ears flapped with eagerness, and a box of chocolate-pistachio truffles from the pantry followed him into his cupboard.

Hermione sighed. "Kreacher's a great help,"—she lowered her voice—"but sometimes he can be a tad overzealous."

Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "Hermione, you're the one who kept eating different things in front of Mrs Black's portrait until you figured out what her favourite sweets were. Then you left a plate of them for Kreacher outside his cupboard. He started doting on you after that."

Ron snickered. "The look on the old bint's face when she couldn't eat the ones she liked. That's my Hermione"—he kissed her on the cheek—"diabolical." Grinning, he caressed her lower back where their shared starmark was.

Hermione's lips twitched as she tried to hide her mirth. "Serves her right. But it's not like I went out of my way to do it. We kept receiving them in the post. And, if Mrs Black stays cordial, I won't find myself sampling sweets or playing loud, repetitive Muggle music near her portrait again.

"Anyway,"—her expression turned more serious—"on to more important things. So, Harry, how did it go with Professor Snape?"

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, "you were gone a long while. Did Snape give you a detention for being too helpful?"

Harry chuckled at Ron's remark. "No. No detention. It went well." He paused for a moment. "I think," he said, not sounding entirely sure. He gathered his thoughts. "We were able to find and fix one Keystone and have a good idea where the others may be."

"That's great news!" Hermione exclaimed.

Grinning, Harry guessed she was already tallying how many books to bring next term.

He swallowed a mouthful of potatoes. "But we found a lot more than just Keystone stuff."

From inside his pocket, he revealed the spyglass, set it on the table, and then explained all that he and Professor Snape had discovered in the Chamber.

By the end of his recap, Ron looked as if he were contemplating fixing another sandwich while Hermione had a dreamy expression on her face, likely picturing the grandeur of Slytherin's private library.

She gazed at the telescope covered in lines of runes. "Having belonged to Slytherin, I wonder if it's more than a simple spyglass." She looked up. "Harry, would it be okay if I studied it further? You can keep it for now. Too much to do. But later this week, I should have more time."

"Yeah, sure," Harry answered her. "Though, go ahead and take it now." He offered her the telescope. "No worries about having to get it back to me. But don't go knocking yourself out," he said, alluding to when she'd got a black eye from the twins' boxing telescope.

Hermione rolled her eyes but eagerly accepted the spyglass. "Thanks, Harry."

"Hey, mate, you ready to hear the latest on 'The Quest for Harry Potter's Conpar'?" Ron asked, using today's front-page title of the Prophet as part of his question.

Groaning, Harry nodded. "Give it to me."

"Well," Hermione began, "today, we only received sixteen letters from those declaring themselves as your conpar."

"Only sixteen," he repeated.

"Better than the few hundreds when your starmark started to manifest," Ron muttered.

Harry sighed. "True."

Hermione paged through some parchment. "Like usual, I logged them, then replied with letters stating they'd need to send photographic proof authenticated by Gringotts before an in-person meeting would be scheduled." She blew a curl away from her face. "No replies yet…"

Used to the same disappointing results, he only nodded.

"It's a real shame about the Stella Directory getting destroyed," Ron said, shaking his head. "So many people losing out on finding their conpares."

"Oh," Hermione said in a more upbeat tone, "I heard one Directory staff member survived. The Ministry is attempting to piece together what they can from their memories."

Harry perked up. "Really?"

She gave Harry's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yes. I heard it directly from Kingsley. And the search through international directories is ongoing. We've already been able to eliminate good portions of Europe, Asia, and Australia from the list. So don't worry. We will find your conpar."

"Yeah, mate"—Ron yawned—"we won't give up until we do."

But what if the reason I haven't found my conpar yet is that they're dead, Harry thought, unable to voice his greatest fear. Instead, he gave them a small smile. "Thanks, you guys."

Ron stretched in his seat. "Merlin, I'm knackered." He gave Hermione a peck on the lips, then stood. "See you at breakfast, Harry."

"Night, Ron," he said.

"Try not to keep her chattering too long," Ron joked, giving Hermione a lascivious grin. "She said she wanted to try something new she'd read."

Hermione flushed hotly. "Oh, you," she chided, lightly swatting Ron's bum.

Ron guffawed and strutted out of the kitchen.

Chuckling, Harry wrinkled his nose. Ever since Ron and Hermione learnt they were conpares, they hadn't been able to stop shagging. Harry stared off into space. You'd think he would be used to it by now, but he wasn't. It'd been hard: learning about starmarks and conpares, then later realising he was the only wizard or witch to never get one and believing it was because he was destined to die.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah…just thinking about things." He attempted to smile but produced more of a grimace.

"You know you can talk to me about anything."

He nodded, his mind drifting to thoughts of Professor Snape. "I do have a question: Is there such a thing as becoming attracted to someone for no other reason than a sense of gratitude?"

Hermione's brows popped up. "Oh?" She silently stared at him a moment. "Well, there is something called transference, which means you are transferring certain emotions you're having—for instance, a desire to find love—onto another person you may only feel gratitude for."

Harry felt himself relax slightly. "And would transference cause hallucinations?"

"Are you having hallucinations?"

"Yeah."

She inhaled deeply. "No. Transference doesn't result in hallucinations. But I know what can." From the beaded bag she always had near, she set a purple Dreamless Sleep Potion bottle on the table. "This will have to be the last one for a while."

He closed his eyes. "But—"

"Harry, you need to dream. If you don't, these hallucinations you're having will become progressively worse. This must be your last dose for at least three months; any more, and you could become dependent."

Looking at her, he sighed, then nodded. "I understand."

Hermione wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, and he squeezed her back.

As Harry paced in front of Hogwarts' main library or, as it was called on Slytherin's map, the Great Library, he glanced down the empty corridor. That he'd arrived before Professor Snape was a surprise. Apprehension nipping at the back of his neck, Harry pondered what could be keeping him. He sighed. Perhaps the answer was simple: Professor Snape had overslept. Even professors needed a lie-in every now and then. Maybe the magical transfer had left Professor Snape more fatigued than he'd let on.

Harry rubbed at his starmark, his thoughts turning to conpares. He smiled, recalling when he'd first learnt of conpares and all it entailed, the excitement of knowing he would find real love one day. As a first-year, the idea of having a starmark and conpar, though foreign, wasn't too hard to wrap his mind around, but bonding, on the other hand… To fully bond, besides the having-sex part, conpares needed to touch starmarks, skin to skin. All Harry had been able to imagine was awkward contortions, like while playing a game of Twister: a shin beneath a chest or a buttock over a cheek. He snorted out a laugh. Not the most romantic of images. Supposedly, touching marks was a sensual experience, but he had his doubts.

Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Harry turned.

What he saw made him chuckle with wonder: Professor Snape was speeding towards him, quite unexpectedly, on a flying carpet that could easily seat a family of four. Harry set his broom against a nearby wall, having a feeling it would no longer be needed.

A few seconds later, Professor Snape, composedly sitting cross-legged, stopped next to him. "Good morning, Mr Potter. Thank you for your patience."

"Morning, sir. I…"

Being so near to Professor Snape seemed to trigger something.

All of a sudden, Harry found himself completely starkers and fully erect. Feeling wobbly, his knees began to buckle. But before he could fall, arms wrapped around him from behind.

Harry smiled. "Severus," he said in relieved recognition, turning around.

Severus returned his smile and then slowly wrapped his fingers around Harry's length.

Shutting his eyes, Harry luxuriated in the sensation; Severus' callused hand felt hot and too sinfully good.

"Harry," Severus purred his name. "Look at me."

He gazed up directly into Severus' eyes.

Severus slid his hand up, then down Harry's cock, causing Harry to moan.

"That's it," Severus praised. "Keep your eyes on me."

Time seemed to blur, Severus' smooth strokes pressing Harry forward.

Harry's heart raced; his balls tightened. So close to climaxing, he desperately clung on.

And then he was coming, writhing in his devoted husband's arms.

"Fuck," Harry heard hissed through clenched teeth before feeling the vibration of a long moan against his chest.

As he slowly came back to his senses, he grinned. He felt great: completely satisfied and loved. Realising he'd closed his eyes after being told not to, Harry immediately opened them.

He frowned. Wasn't I just standing?

Then reality hit.

"Mr Potter," Professor Snape said, gazing at him with an unreadable expression, "are you…recovered?"

Harry scrambled out of Professor Snape's arms, not wanting to think about the wet spot on his thigh. "I'm so sorry, sir," he began to babble. "I've been taking Dreamless Sleep Potion after I blew up a good portion of my room during a nightmare, and I've recently started to have side effects. But last night was my final dose for a while, so they should be stopping after tonight."

Professor Snape blinked. "And…are you able to continue for today?"

"Yeah, it shouldn't be a problem. I feel fine."

Professor Snape looked sceptical.

"Really." Harry narrowed his eyes, daring him to argue.

"Very well..." Professor Snape's voice became firm: "But if you start to feel unwell, you will let me know."

"I will," he said, nodding.

Harry crossed his legs to get into a more comfortable position. He discreetly charmed away the come on his trousers; then, remembering how they got soiled in the first place, he blushed. Dreaming Professor Snape was my husband, Harry amusedly thought. He pressed his lips together so he wouldn't start to laugh nervously at the outlandish notion.

Professor Snape pointed his wand at the library's worn, carved doors, and they flew open. Steadily gliding forwards, the musty, sweet smell of aged paper and ink surrounded them and seemed to draw them inside. Looking around, Harry could see the book-adorned room was empty. There were the occasional sounds of a book sneaking itself off a shelf or another flipping its pages but, otherwise, only silence.

"Where's Madam Pince?" Harry asked.

"She decided to go on holiday," was all Professor Snape would say.

Stroking his hands across the woven wool beneath him, Harry thought the material felt surprisingly soft. "Aren't flying carpets banned?"

"They are," Professor Snape answered. "But, you see, this one is used only as an example for educational purposes."

Harry snorted a laugh. "If you say so, Professor."

Professor Snape smirked.

"Why did you decide on this"—Harry patted the carpet—"instead of brooms?"

One corner of Professor Snape's mouth curled. "Why, so I wouldn't have to worry about catching you in mid-air again."

Colour instantly cascaded down Harry's face and past his neck. Looking down at the floor many feet below, he absurdly imagined leaping off the side of the carpet to distance himself from the awkwardness he felt.

For several minutes, they looked for the Keystone. They searched above study tables and bookshelves; they even searched every cupboard, side room, and Madam Pince's private office.

But they found no hint of Ravenclaw's chambers.

Sighing, Harry lay down on his back while Professor Snape pulled out a notebook and started to scribble something in it.

Harry's mind wandered. Thinking about Ravenclaw brought up memories of her daughter, the Grey Lady. Then the diadem. And then the Room of Hidden Things…

He quickly sat up. "I have an idea."

The scratch of Professor Snape's quill stopped, and he regarded him with interest. "Go on," he encouraged.

"Slytherin's map showed the library and Ravenclaw's chambers being in the same place, right?" Harry asked rhetorically. "How about we try entering the library again, but before we do, you specifically focus on wanting her private rooms, like when entering the Room of Requirement. I don't think it would work if I did it because that would mean any old student could have butted into her chambers. But you're the Headmaster; it should work for you."

Professor Snape's stare made him squirm—and feel hot, tingly hot.

Slowly nodding, Professor Snape said, "It's worth a try." He promptly guided the flying carpet out of the room, shutting the door behind them with a flick of his wrist.

While Professor Snape focused on the library's entrance, Harry studied Professor Snape's face: his thick brows, the bump on the bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, and the lines of his mouth.

Suddenly Professor Snape's lips parted in a short gasp, making Harry jump.

"Mr Potter, look," he instructed, excitedly gesturing ahead.

Harry turned, and his mouth fell open.

Instead of two wooden doors, there was now only one made of richly patinated bronze.

They glanced at each other, grinning in success.

As they inched closer, the door opened. Harry and Professor Snape gaped.

Ravenclaw's chamber wasn't anything like Harry had expected. The walls were charmed similarly to the Great Halls', showing a rainy 360-degree view of Hogwarts' grounds, and gave the illusion that the ceiling was suspended in the air. On the ceiling amongst lovely moving murals was something entirely surprising: one mammoth circular calendar. Of note were the best time to harvest Pupil Root, a reminder to send a gift to King Henry, and the mating season of the extinct Erymanthian Boar, which was during April.

At the centre of it all was a brilliant sapphire.

Harry's heart beat faster the higher they rose towards the precious jewel.

Professor Snape succinctly tested and verified the presence of a Keystone.

"Are you ready, Mr Potter," he asked, offering his hand.

Hardening in his trousers, Harry shakily nodded. "Yes, sir." His eyes fluttered shut for an instant as his fingers slipped between Professor Snape's.

He knew what was to come, but now, he didn't mind; he welcomed it, was eager for it even.

Later, as Professor Snape swelled with Harry's magic, Harry felt an arm wrap around him and pull him close.

Harry moaned, losing himself, and though not entirely sure, he thought he heard Professor Snape do the same.

Chapter Text

Severus woke up to incessant ringing.

Groaning, he fumbled around with his right hand until his palm met metal, and the sound thankfully stopped.

He sat up and lamented not being able to enjoy his latest dream to its fullest. Yesterday, having a groaning Mr Potter orgasming in his arms, not once but twice, which resulted in him also climaxing at the time, had produced a lot of sexual fodder for his mind to work with.

Usually, Severus could rise without the need of an alarm clock, but that no longer was the case. The previous morning, the desire to continue a succulent dream had caused him to sleep past what he considered acceptable. Luckily, Mr Potter hadn't commented on it.

Severus glanced at his clock: half past five. Plenty of time to shower, eat, and work on some correspondence.

After he finished all his morning tasks with ten minutes to spare, he unrolled the flying carpet with a flick of his wand and was on his way.

Today, Severus decided to leave his robes behind. Mr Potter and he would be searching for Hufflepuff's Keystone, and since dirt and aggressive plant life are likely to become involved, he thought it best to wear practical attire: a simple dark shirt and trousers. The desire to remind Mr Potter he wasn't a shapeless pile of fabric hadn't crossed his mind at all.

As he sped through dimly lit hallways, recent memories of Mr Potter teased his mind. The previous day, Severus had once again been able to hold his conpar in his arms until he recovered and woke. When Mr Potter's eyes were on him, the desire to tell him everything but not doing so had been tantamount to being under the Dark Lord's wand.

But will there ever be a good time, he sadly wondered.

He found Mr Potter waiting near Greenhouse Three. Again, Mr Potter had brought his broom with him like a toddler unable to part with a cuddly toy.

Mr Potter smiled at him, and Severus' heart ached with pleasure and want.

"Hello, Professor," he said before his eyes travelled across Severus' body, a lovely blush warming his cheeks.

Satisfaction filling him, he replied, "Good morning, Mr Potter. Did you sleep well?"

Mr Potter's face went from pink to scarlet. "Y-yes, sir."

Ah, Severus thought, so the conpares bond is also rearing its head in his dreams.

"Professor," Mr Potter said for Severus' attention.

"Yes…"

"Before we go, I wanted to suggest something."

"And what would that be?"

"I know you brought the flying carpet, and it's great, but I thought brooms may be better for today. They have better manoeuvrability, and I think that's important when dealing with possible magical plants that have been known to eat people. And"—he reddened—if we share a broom, there's a lesser chance of me falling off during the magical donation."

Putting a lid on his excitement, Severus only nodded in agreement. "Excellent points, Mr Potter. I believe you are correct."

He chuckled at Mr Potter's expression of shock.

Severus got off the carpet, rolled it, and set it atop a nearby bench.

"I presume you want to be the one in control," he inquired.

"O-oh…" Mr Potter shook his head. "I—"

"No need to be modest. You are the better flyer."

Mr Potter looked at a loss as to what to say next, so he decided to be merciful.

"Yes, that was indeed a compliment," Severus said. He grinned. "Don't let it go to your head. Now"—he impatiently motioned for him to mount the broom—"on you go."

Once Mr Potter had firmly affixed his arse onto the broomstick, he joined him, holding onto Mr Potter's waist.

"Where to first?" Mr Potter asked, his voice higher than usual.

"The greenhouses. Let's start with Greenhouse One."

"Got it," Mr Potter said, and they took off.

Greenhouses One and Two garnered nothing. They spent more time in Greenhouse Three because of where Hufflepuff's chamber was noted on Slytherin's map, but their effort there also produced no results.

In Greenhouse Four, he and Mr Potter narrowly escaped an Eyewart's spittle. An infestation of pixies had Severus constantly shooting stunners in Greenhouse Five. And the free-floating petals of a Lover's Reap in Greenhouse Six nearly gave him a heart attack; the potent aphrodisiac effect of the flower was not how he would want to start an intimate relationship with his conpar.

After hearing Severus' panicked swear, Mr Potter's act-now-ask-questions-later approach with a well-aimed Incendio saved them.

However, the brief thought of ravishing his conpar caused Severus' body to react. He could have strengthened his Occlumency and forced it away, but he simply didn't want to. Severus wanted Mr Potter to know he desired him.

The sharp dip in their elevation while going to Greenhouse Seven let Severus know that his arousal was definitely noticed.

By the time they completed their investigation of the last greenhouse, they still hadn't found a whiff of where Hufflepuff's chambers were. At least, Severus was once again respectable—flying on a broom with an erection, although exciting, was far from comfortable.

"Where to next?" Mr Potter asked.

"The Herbology Store," he answered.

"Sounds good." Severus heard the smile in Mr Potter's voice: "Hold on."

He tightened his arms around Mr Potter's waist a second before they blasted out of the glass enclosure. They sped up into the sky, fresh air buffeting their faces, and reached an adrenalin-pumping altitude within seconds.

As they hurtled back towards the earth, Mr Potter shouted in joy. Grinning, Severus buried his nose in Mr Potter's neck and let himself fall into his conpar's scent and warmth.

Once they were steadily hovering next to the Herbology Store's entrance, Severus couldn't resist quipping: "Well, Mr Potter, that was rather the ride."

Mr Potter laughed out loud. "Anytime, Professor."

Smirking, Severus didn't comment further; he only rejoiced in the knowledge that Mr Potter was beginning to finally relax and be himself in his presence.

Because of all the pots, jars, and sharp, possibly deadly, gardening tools, they agreed it would be best to further explore on foot.

After Mr Potter set his boom against the side of the small building, he pulled open the weathered door, propping it in place with a temporary sticking charm. Inside the cramped area, pack-full shelves lined the walls, and dust and dirt covered every surface.

Severus aimed his wand. "Scourgify."

They stepped closer and noticed the same thing simultaneously: The floor was covered in tiles decorated with a plant or animal. As Severus' eyes roved, he identified a goat, sunflower, dog, starwort, and then he saw something that made him feel like an excited fairy had swooped into his chest.

"Mr Potter,"—he placed his hand on Mr Potter's back and urged him to look where his finger was pointing—"there."

"Oh! A badger!" Mr Potter turned to look at him and grinned. "Good eye, sir."

He softly smiled. "Thank you."

Waving his wand, Severus cast varying detection charms on the image of Hufflepuff's mascot.

But none of them came back positive.

Mr Potter groaned. "I was sure we were on to something." His expression turned thoughtful. Bending down, he patted the two-dimensional badger's head.

They both started when the badger slightly shifted its position.

Severus beamed down at his clever conpar. "Let me try."

This time all the tiles moved, creating stairs that led downwards. The scent of greenery, new and decaying, moist earth, and sweet florals rushed out of the dimly lit passage.

While Mr Potter retrieved his broom, Severus conjured an orb to light their way.

Not knowing what to expect, they carefully made their way down, their wands at the ready.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they baulked at what they saw: A virtual jungle lay before them. But most remarkable was the ceiling charmed to look like large glass panels. Gazing up, he and Mr Potter could see the inside of the above greenhouses from below.

"When Pomona learns of this place…" Severus muttered, his face displaying amusement and dread.

Mr Potter snorted out a laugh. "You think she's bad. Wait until Neville finds out. You'll have to threaten him with brewing to get him to leave."

Severus glanced at him wryly. "Considering Mr Longbotton's accomplishment, I can see myself giving the mighty 'Serpent Slayer' a pass," he said, remembering the Prophet's epithet.

"I'd give you five Galleons just for you to call him that to his face," Mr Potter said as he chortled.

What they were doing, bantering, laughing together, felt so right. Severus smiled.

Mr Potter wiped tears from his eyes, then after a long sigh, he sobered. "Well,"—he stared out into the wildness—"the only way we're going to be able to get through that is by broom."

"I agree." Severus gazed at him. "You can focus on the flying while I'll focus on the shield charms. And be wary over there." He shot a small burst of fire to the left. "I think I caught a glimpse of a Payara Plant."

"What's a Payara Plant?" Mr Potter asked as he mounted the broom.

"Best I give you the full answer when we're done. Just think venomous fangs for petals that are to be avoided at all costs."

Mr Potter paled. "I'll be extra careful, sir."

Severus joined him on the broom. "I know you will," he said next to Mr Potter's right ear.

Mr Potter shivered. Then, pushing off with his feet, they rose.

Even though Mr Potter flew as high as possible, giving Severus an excellent vantage point to study the ceiling, he was having no luck.

"Mr Potter, do you sense anything?"

A line appeared between Mr Potter's eyebrows as he concentrated. Slowly, they moved to where Greenhouse Four was above them.

"There," Mr Potter said, pointing at a large rivet.

Severus performed a composition charm and soon learnt what he'd thought was a rivet was actually a huge black diamond. He performed another spell to confirm it was a Keystone.

"Did we find another one?" Mr Potter asked.

"We did." Severus stored away his wand and then pressed his palm against the stone. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Er, should I reach behind me to hold your hand?"

"No, keep both hands on the broom. All we need is skin-on-skin contact." He slipped his fingers under Mr Potter's shirt and rested his palm on the firm expanse of abdominal muscle. "Will this be alright?"

"Yeah," Mr Potter said breathlessly. "That…that'll be fine."

Closing his eyes, Severus leaned closer. "Good. Begin."

After Severus inhaled a deep breath, Mr Potter's magic started to fill him. As it pooled and expanded, he savoured the blissful build-up of power.

But a few moments later, he realised something was wrong. The Keystone was only accepting a fraction of what was offered.

Severus pushed harder. He had to, or Mr Potter's magic would drown him.

An agonising pressure.

He couldn't catch his breath.

"Professor, are you alright?"

Severus cried out, the pain intensifying. The world tipped. He felt Mr Potter scramble to grab his arm.

"Professor! What's wrong? Professor! Severus! Say something, please. Please…"

Severus' vision blurred, then darkened. He felt so cold.

He knew what was happening; he'd done it before: He was dying.

But Severus felt comforted: At least he'd heard his conpar say his name once.

With burgeoning awareness, Severus identified the pungent notes of Replenishing Potion: wormwood and milk thistle. Next, he noted he was lying on a bed.

Alive. I'm alive.

If he had the strength, he would have snorted. Instead, Severus groaned, his insides feeling like they'd been blasted by a Bombarda.

He opened his eyes but had to immediately squint due to the brightness of a nearby lantern. Peering above, he recognised the stone arches of the Hospital Wing.

Severus heard a scurry, then a second later, Mr Potter appeared next to him.

"Professor," he said in excited relief, "you're awake."

"I am indeed," Severus replied, his voice rough. "My being here is your doing, I presume."

Mr Potter fidgeted. "I figured something was wrong with the magic I'd given you, so I took it back, but I took too much. Madam Pomfrey said it'll take twenty-four hours for you to heal." His expression turned forlorn. "I'm sorry about that, sir."

Severus rolled his eyes. "No need to mope, Mr Potter. Your impulsivity likely saved not just my magic but also my life." Feeling stronger, he lifted a hand, and Mr Potter took it. "You have my thanks."

Looking away, Mr Potter blushed. "Well, you've done your best to protect me for so many years, it's only fair." He mindlessly began to rub his thumb over Severus' knuckles, sending pleasurable tingles throughout Severus' body.

"How did you manage to get thirteen stones of dead weight here?" Severus asked. "I don't remember much." Just you saying my name.

Mr Potter shrugged. "I didn't do a whole lot. I flew us out of Hufflepuff's chambers. Then I transferred you to the flying carpet and brought you here." His face brightened. "Oh!" He pulled out Severus' wand from a pocket. "You dropped this. I went back and got it for you." He set it down on the bedside table.

"Mr Potter, are you fishing for more words of gratitude." Because I'd gladly get on my knees and offer them to you if you wish.

"N-no, of course not. It's what I would do for any of my friends."

Severus' heart soared. "Are we friends now?"

At Mr Potter's sputtering, he couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm only teasing."

Feeling merciful, he changed the subject: "Now, concerning the transfer, I'm not entirely sure why it was unsuccessful. I can research it while my magic heals, beginning with the books I acquired from Slytherin's library."

"Would you like me to come over tomorrow and help?" Mr Potter asked.

"There's no real need," he answered. "I think the books with the most promise are in Latin."

But Severus had got used to seeing his conpar daily and didn't want to go without.

"However," he continued, "if I don't find what I need, we might have to venture into the Chamber again. Are you able to stop by sometime in the afternoon?"

All awkwardness forgotten, Mr Potter grinned. "That'll work great. Mrs Weasley has been asking Ron, Hermione, and me to visit the Burrow, so I'll be there for breakfast. But afterwards, I can come over."

Severus yawned. His magical exhaustion was catching up with him. "Then I shall see you tomorrow." His heavy eyelids closed.

"Goodbye, Professor. Sleep well…"

Arriving at his first dream, Severus wrapped his arms around his conpar, doing precisely that.

Severus stared out at the lake. One of the giant squid's tentacles erupted from the water, but the bird it was aiming for flew out of reach. The sun was directly above, beating hotly on Severus' head and creating a puddle of shadow for him to stand in. He was outside because he'd needed some fresh air. Or that was the lie he told himself.

Continuing his stroll, he could smell the wild dill and mint along the dirt path. He looked ahead and saw his true goal: Dumbledore's tomb, radiantly shining like a miniature sun.

Because of the other Death Eaters that had been on the grounds, Severus hadn't been able to visit and pay his respects.

Until now.

He placed his hand atop the cold marble slab.

"Headmaster," he said both in greeting and goodbye.

Severus felt an unbidden sting in his eyes. All the feelings he'd been holding back had found a crack. Clenching his hands, he inhaled slowly.

His emotions back under control, his mind drifted to Mr Potter, who would be arriving from the Weasleys' shortly. Excitement and worry filled him at the thought.

Severus sighed. Gazing at the tomb, he said, "I don't know how you did it."

Dumbledore had known the deep pain of losing a conpar. He chose to leave Grindelwald's side and carried that heavy sadness until his very last moment.

Severus was still at risk of losing his conpar due to his own stupid cruelty and ignorance. He'd tarnished his soul, succumbing to the Dark Arts, and he'd destroyed the relationship with his dearest friend, Lily, as a result. But now, Severus was willing to do whatever it took not to bollocks up what was probably his very last chance at a life worth living. He was finally kicking his way towards happiness, and his conpar was his guiding glimmer of hope.

"Professor," he heard hesitantly from behind.

Severus turned and found Mr Potter standing with one hand holding a broom.

"Sorry to disturb you," Mr Potter said. "I can come back later."

"Not at all." He glanced up at the cloudless sky. "It's such a pleasant day. Would it be agreeable if we stayed and spoke here?"

"Oh," Mr Potter uttered at Severus' unanticipated reply. "Yeah, sure."

Severus plucked a blade of grass near his right shoe and Transfigured it into a blanket. Then, as neatly as he could, he laid it on the ground. Facing the lake, he sat, his legs straight. Mr Potter followed, momentarily closing his eyes and basking in the sun like the lion he was.

As they both enjoyed the picturesque view, Mr Potter asked, "Did you find anything useful about what went wrong?"

"I did." Severus turned to face him. "Simply put, a Keystone will only accept power from those who embody enough characteristics of its house. Hufflepuff values kindness, tolerance, patience, et cetera."

Mr Potter chuckled. "And neither one of us is known for our patience."

"Exactly." Severus grinned.

"So, all we need to do is act more Hufflepuffy, and it should take."

Severus raised a brow at Mr Potter's word choice. "I believe so, yes."

Mr Potter's shoulders relaxed. "I'm relieved; I thought I had somehow hurt you again."

"Again?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah. Like when I looked at your memories without permission."

Severus patted Mr Potter's hand. "Water under the bridge."

Mr Potter smiled. "I'm glad."

For a few minutes, they sat in comfortable silence, listening to the lapping waves and watching the occasional owl ride the wind currents.

"Well," Mr Potter said, grabbing his broom as he moved to stand, "I better be going."

Severus also stood and Vanished the blanket. "Tomorrow's Saturday…" he began to fish. "Are you able to come?"

Mr Potter instantly reddened to Severus' pleasure.

"To help fix Hufflepuff's Keystone," Severus added, a smile teasing his lips.

Clearing his throat, Mr Potter nodded. "Yeah. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Then I shall meet you in front of the Herbology Store at nine." He politely tipped his head. "It's been a pleasure, Mr Potter.

"You know…" Mr Potter said, stepping away, "you can call me Harry."

Severus' mouth parted in disbelief. He inhaled a breath to speak, but before he could say a word, his grinning conpar was already on his broom, whizzing away.

Severus glared at Dumbledore's tomb. "You're getting way too much amusement out of this, aren't you?"

Huffing, he dug into a pocket and pulled out a small paper bag. From inside it, his thumb and index finger selected one electric-yellow ball. "This is for you, Dumbledore." He popped the sherbet lemon into his mouth, grimacing at the taste.

As Severus marched back to the castle, one of his cheeks roundly protruding, he glanced at the offending bag of sweets and promptly Vanished it. No need to risk Dumbledore's portrait spotting the sweets; he would never hear the end of it.

Severus' day wasn't done, however. He still needed to think of something that would improve the odds of him and his conpar—

Harry.

He smiled.

Something that would improve the odds of him and Harry restoring Hufflepuff's Keystone.

But first, a cup of tea was in order to wash away the cloying flavour in his mouth.

Chapter Text

"Isn't Hermione due to come down?" Harry asked.

"Not gonna happen," Ron said, shovelling more eggs onto his fork, probably already missing his mum's cooking. "She's in the library on one of her study benders. Best to let her depart her lair when she's ready."

Harry chuckled before taking a sip of pumpkin juice. At least he didn't have to suffer through one more conpares meeting. No. Instead, after another night of torrid dreams, he could continue to mull over whether or not he was developing feelings for Professor Snape or, as he tended to moan and cry out in his dreams, Severus.

"AHHHH!"

Dropping everything, Harry and Ron sprung from their seats at Hermione's shriek. They bound upstairs, two steps at a time, wands drawn, before barrelling into the library.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked frantically, searching the room for a threat.

Hermione stood in front of the library table with her chair toppled over. "Sorry, sorry," she said, her breathing elevated. She looked at them apologetically. "Truly, I'm alright."

Bending down, she reached for something under the table, then straightening, revealed Slytherin's spyglass. "I was just startled and excited and amazed and..." Hermione gazed at the artefact with awe.

"You're not cursed…or possessed, are you?" Ron sought to confirm.

Flicking her wand to right her chair, Hermione shook her head and said, "No." She muffled a squeal of excitement. "What I've done is worked it out! You must see this."

Hermione held up the spyglass. "These runes here, they activate different features when touched by a wand." She slid the tip of her wand down one column of squiggles, causing them to flash. "I've activated what essentially translates as 'To see that which is true.'" She slid her finger down another line of runes. "This means 'To see that which is unseen.' There're five in total. I'm certain one of them turns it into an actual spyglass, magically enhanced, of course, but I'll need to consult Professor Babbling about the last two."

"So…" Harry said, "you screamed because you figured out how to work it?"

"No," Hermione answered. "I screamed because of what I saw when I tried it."

"What'd you see?" Ron asked, casting a wary eye about the room.

"Well,"—she furrowed her brow—"I only caught a glimpse of it before it vanished into thin air, but it appeared to be a magical creature of some sort; it resembled a pig but was purple and had ram-like horns."

"You know," mused Ron, "that sounds a lot like that creature Luna mentioned. What was it again? Something like 'Kacky Snorgle'?"

Hermione's eyes widened in sudden recognition. "You're right! But she called it a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, if I recall correctly."

"Yeah, that one." Ron's expression turned excited. "Hasn't Mr Lovegood put up a reward for any proof of it? Do you know of a charm that lets you create a snap from a memory?"

Hermione looked intrigued. "No…" She quickly jotted down a note on some parchment. "But I can look into it when I'm back at Hogwarts."

Smiling, she offered the spyglass to Harry. "Alright, you try."

After accepting it, Harry took a moment to study the telescope's entire circumference. "Have you tried the other functions you haven't fully translated?"

She shook her head. "What is seen can't be unseen, so I thought it best to wait."

"This could really help with finding the last Keystone, though," Harry said. "Which ones aren't you sure about?"

Hermione sighed and then rotated the spyglass, showing him.

Repeating Hermione's earlier action, Harry ran his wand down the spyglass' side. He then peered through the eyepiece.

"Blimey," Harry breathed. "It's like Christmas; everything's lit up." He approached an exterior wall and touched it. "I reckon…I reckon I can see the protective charms on the house."

"Really?" Hermione said. "May I see?"

Harry passed her the telescope, which she promptly raised to her eye.

Hermione gasped. "Merlin's beard…I reckon you're right." She slowly spun in a circle. "It's beautiful." She turned to Ron. "Fancy a peek?"

"Why not," Ron said with a shrug.

A moment later, Ron was in as much awe as Harry and Hermione had been. "Imagine what Fred and George could do, inspired by this," he mumbled to himself.

They took turns trying the different settings, including the last one that didn't seem to show anything and would need Professor Babbling's help to suss out.

Then, Harry remembered.

He glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath.

"I've got to leg it," Harry said as he took the spyglass from Hermione. He headed for the door, snatching up his broom on the way out. Before leaving, he also lifted his leather jacket off the coat rack, providing him with a safe place to store the small telescope.

"Cheers, mates!" Harry called over his shoulder.

He heard Ron and Hermione call out "Bye" in unison.

Once outside, he slipped into his jacket, cast a cooling charm for comfort, and tucked the spyglass in a pocket for safekeeping.

Harry grinned excitedly. Soon, he'd be able to see Professor Snape again.

No sooner had Harry appeared in front of Hogwarts' main entrance gates, he jumped onto his broom and took off. Circling the east side of the Great Hall, he soared over the Viaduct and then toward the North Courtyard. Gradually, the Herbology Store grew in focus, and before long, he could make out Professor Snape's form sitting on a nearby bench.

Harry landed a short distance away and took a moment to admire Professor Snape's formidable profile.

Upon noticing Harry's arrival, Professor Snape turned to face him.

"Morning, sir," said Harry, feeling awkward for staring.

"Good morning," replied Professor Snape. His voice was even, but there was a stiffness in his shoulders and a rigidity in his posture, likely because of irritation.

A quick glance at his watch made Harry wince—he was twelve minutes late.

As Harry hastily dismounted his broom, Professor Snape stood.

Harry opened his mouth to apologise for his lateness, but his words faltered when he spotted what Professor Snape was holding.

A bouquet of red irises.

"Harry, these are for you," Professor Snape said, holding out the flowers. "My attempt at an act of kindness," he added with a self-deprecating smile.

Hearing Professor Snape say his name, Harry felt as if he'd begun to randomly misplace beats of his heart. With his cheeks as crimson as the blossoms, he accepted the unexpected gift.

Why the gesture? Harry wondered. A peace offering, perhaps?

"And," Professor Snape continued, "if you insist on the familiarity of me using your given name, then you must address me likewise. It will go a long way toward exhibiting our tolerance for one another."

Understanding dawned on Harry. This was all about increasing their chances of repairing Hufflepuff's Keystone.

"Thank you, sir,"—Harry shut his eyes and gave a quick shake of his head—"I mean, Severus." He felt himself go semi-hard just saying it; the reaction was almost Pavlovian now due to his dreams.

Severus' face twitched oddly.

"Are you sure you're okay to do this?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Yes. I stopped by the Hospital Wing and received an all-clear from Madam Pomfrey."

Harry relaxed and smiled at the news. "That's great to hear." Looking down, he admired the flowers. "Shouldn't I put these in water?"

"I applied a preservation charm; they'll last about a fortnight now."

"Really? Another spell I wouldn't mind knowing. Did you create it?"

Severus chuckled. "No. It is taught in seventh-year Herbology. However,"—he grinned at Harry—"I would be open to teaching you after you've learnt the Oculimei Spell."

"That's the book-searching one, right?"

"It is."

Harry felt a thrill at the prospect of Severus' hand atop his, guiding him through the wand movements. He swallowed hard.

"The passage to Hufflepuff's chambers is already open," Severus informed him.

"You weren't off collecting potion ingredients from potentially lethal plants without letting anyone know, were you?" Harry asked, his tone teetering between playful and serious.

"Of course…not."

Harry smiled and snorted a laugh.

He gently placed the bouquet on the bench, then removed his jacket and draped it over the armrest before mounting his broom.

Severus rested a hand on Harry's left shoulder, and with its help, he deftly positioned himself up and behind him.

"I'm not going to bother with creating an illumination orb," Severus said. "There'll be plenty of ambient light inside."

"Sounds good to me, Harry replied, nodding in agreement.

Once certain that Severus was securely holding on to his midsection, Harry turned his head and asked, "You ready, Severus?"

Severus gave his waist a squeeze. "As I'll ever be, Harry."

With a grin, Harry smoothly navigated them down into Hufflepuff's chambers, heading straight for the Keystone.

As soon as they steadily hovered below the black diamond, Severus's hand found its way under Harry's shirt. A thrill coursed through Harry's body, sparked by the warm, electrifying touch. But this time, instead of resting on his stomach, the hand was placed higher, just below his heart.

He gulped, noticing his nipples were hard, despite the surrounding hot and humid environment.

"Harry, I'll let you know when my mind is open."

"Got it," he replied, nodding quickly in a jittery fashion.

While Harry waited, he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the feel of Severus' chest rising and falling behind him.

Severus braced himself. "Now," he commanded in a low, deliberate tone.

Harry quickly checked he had a firm grip on the broom handle before he began to cautiously offer his magic.

Soon, the delicious pull from Severus had Harry struggling to stifle sounds of pleasure.

Surprising Harry, Severus moaned.

"Are you okay?" Harry managed to ask.

"Yes," Severus rasped. "It's working."

Desperate to see Severus's face as the power between them built, Harry rotated as far to his left as he could, like a vine striving to climb towards the sun.

Noticing Harry's movements, Severus bent forwards, steadying Harry by bracing the back of his neck with a hand.

For a few moments, they simply gazed at each other. Harry marvelled at Severus' face; it looked so alive, no longer an impassive mask. Now, it exuded a palpable, hungry tension, and his eyes sparkled with life.

Magic swirled and danced between them. Harry felt his cock throb and could no longer hold back a moan: "Severus…"

Overwhelmed by his desire, Harry leant forwards to close the small gap between them and connected their lips.

Severus froze. But a second later, he possessively pulled him closer, deepening their kiss as his fingers tangled into Harry's hair.

Harry cried out, coming. He saw stars; he heard Severus' growling moan and felt the vibrations of it against his mouth.

Then, a seismic release of magical pressure reverberated around them.

Harry's vision started to blur. I can't. I can't lose consciousness. What if something happens to Severus again…

Severus' lips lightly brushed against Harry's forehead. "It's alright," Severus assured him, "the transfer's done, and I have the broom in hand."

With a deep, shuddering sigh of relief, Harry finally surrendered to exhaustion as everything faded into darkness.

Harry regained consciousness to sunlight shining through his closed eyelids and fingers pleasantly stroking his hair. Unfortunately, as he opened his eyes, the comforting touch sadly stopped.

Looking around, he found himself lying on the bench outside the Herbology Store, his head resting on Severus' lap.

"You were out for only half an hour this time," Severus remarked.

Harry grunted as he sat up. "Why is it that I keep passing out, but you don't?"

"You are giving of yourself," Severus began to explain, "essentially sacrificing a large amount of magic. I'm acting more as a conduit. I am using my magic, but not to the extent you are. If I attempted what you're doing, I wouldn't faint; I'd die."

"Oh," Harry said. He glanced down, noting his trousers had once again been charmed clean. He was now fairly certain the magical donation also affected Severus in the same way. It would explain Severus' response to his clumsy kiss. They had got lost in the moment: nothing more than that.

"Would you be open to my walking with you to the gates?" Severus asked, standing.

"Sure," replied Harry, attempting to suppress his enthusiasm. At least, it seemed he and Severus were becoming friends.

Harry also rose to his feet, turning to gather his belongings from the bench. After slipping on his jacket, he collected his broom and the large bouquet of crimson blossoms.

"Let me help you with that," offered Severus, taking Harry's broom.

"Thanks," Harry said with a warm smile.

Side by side, they started towards the gates.

"So, Harry," Severus said as they strolled past the greenhouses, "what have you been up to over the past month?"

Harry considered what to say, then decided not to overthink it; he'd just tell it like it was.

"The first week was tough," Harry admitted. "Lots of funerals, endless visits to St Mungo's and the Ministry." He let out a weak laugh. "I'm still coming to terms with the fact that Percy Weasley is now a vampire."

Severus' brow rose. "Really?"

"We've managed to keep it hush-hush, so I'm not surprised it hasn't reached you."

Harry sighed. "And when I got my starmark, things went from hard to barking mad. Hundreds of letters. Obsessed stalkers.

"Hermione has been brilliant, helping me sort through the conpares stuff. But, so far, it has all amounted to nothing." He turned his gaze on Severus, and their eyes met. "I'm terrified my conpar is dead."

Severus swallowed hard.

For the next few minutes, they walked in contemplative silence.

As they began to cross the Viaduct, Severus said, "At the rate that we are fixing the Keystones, it appears next term will start on time. Will you be returning to Hogwarts?"

"I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. "Kingsley offered me a spot in the Auror training programme without needing my N.E.W.T.s. That was my initial plan." He grimaced. "But now, I'm not so sure."

"A major aspect of an Auror's role involves pursuing Dark wizards," Severus pointed out. "Could it be your uncertainty stems from the fear that your conpar could be associated with the Dark?"

Harry groaned a laugh. "Don't even joke about that. Knowing my luck, they probably would be." He sighed. "This may sound a bit daft, but I'm holding off on deciding until I find my conpar. I mean, what if they've got a job that involves a lot of travel, or they live halfway across the world? If that's the case, it wouldn't make much sense for me to join the Aurors or return to Hogwarts." He smiled. "Because when I find my conpar, I don't want to waste a single moment sharing my life with them. The war taught me life can be too bloody short, so I've got to make the most of it, right?"

"Finding a balance between caution and action is always challenging," Severus commented quietly.

Harry and Severus traversed through the Quad Courtyard before entering the castle. They spotted Madam Pomfrey bustling around a corner, but neither of them tried to get her attention.

As they made their way to the Entrance Hall, Harry found himself wondering why Severus had never spoken about his own conpar. Was Dark magic preventing his starmark from appearing like it had with Harry? Did his conpar decide to leave because of his life as a spy? Or, worst-case scenario, had they died?

Harry didn't want to open old wounds, but he was so incredibly curious.

They exited the castle, walked the length of the Entrance Courtyard, and then set off down the path toward the main gates. If Harry intended to ask about Severus' conpar, now was the time.

"Severus?"

Severus glanced at him. "Yes?"

"Can we talk about your conpar?"

Severus missed his next step and began to lose his balance.

Harry's hand whipped out with Snitch-catching speed and grabbed Severus' arm, saving him from falling flat on his face. Had he not witnessed it himself, Harry wouldn't have believed Severus' out-of-character moment of clumsiness.

"My apologies," Severus said, straightening his robes. "I commend your reflexes."

"Thanks. I'm just glad you're alright." Or maybe Severus really wasn't alright, Harry thought. Severus' reaction to the topic of his conpar had almost literally brought him to his knees. "I apologise if I've broached a subject that discomforts you. We needn't discuss it if you'd rather not."

"I…understand your curiosity," Severus said, resuming their walk. "But…" He sighed and shook his head. "Now is simply not the time."

Harry felt a twinge of disappointment but respected Severus' wishes all the same. "Alright, then," he said, dropping the subject.

As they continued, Harry let his gaze wander, occasionally resting on the Quidditch pitch to his left or drifting towards Hagrid's hut and the Forest to his right.

Upon them nearing the main entrance, the wrought-iron gates started to swing open.

Harry froze, suddenly remembering. "Blimey, I'd nearly forgotten! I meant to show you this for tomorrow."

His left hand slid into a jacket pocket, encountering the warm metal within. Then, with a touch of theatrics, he presented the small telescope to Severus.

Severus regarded him, eyebrows arched. "The spyglass from Slytherin's office you chanced upon?"

"Yeah!" Harry answered, brimming with excitement.

He then went on to relay all that Hermione had figured out.

"I can't wait to see what Hogwarts looks like through it," Harry said, following his explanation. "Severus, could you hold this for a sec?" He held out the irises.

"Of course," Severus responded, gracefully accepting the bouquet with a nod.

"Thanks," Harry said with a smile.

Using his wand, he switched on the spyglass, lifting it to one eye and closing the other.

Hogwarts was, unsurprisingly, a sight to behold, with a rainbow of currents circling the castle and stretching overhead, much like a massive iridescent soap bubble. He wondered how it might look once the final Keystone was mended.

"You've got to give this a go," Harry said, turning in Severus' direction.

Harry, still peering through the spyglass, gave it a slight turn and activated another feature.

The magical viewfinder refocused, honing in on Severus' tall form. He frowned upon noticing a glow radiating from Severus' chest. However, the flowers distorted his view, making it hard to discern what exactly lay beneath.

Severus adjusted his position, lowering the bouquet, and that which was unseen came into clear view.

A starmark, identical to Harry's, partly covered Severus' heart and left pectoral.

"Conpar," Harry breathed, slowly lowering the spyglass.

"Did you say something, Harry?"

Harry felt as if his heart was executing a Wronski Feint. His emotions were a whirlwind of shock, pure joy, and confusion, among others. Absent-mindedly, he pocketed his wand and the spyglass.

To anchor himself, he focused on the bouquet. "Flowers usually symbolise something, don't they? What's the meaning of red irises?"

Severus opened his mouth, shut it, then falteringly tried again: "Red irises…they stand for passion, faithfulness, and…romantic love."

Silent, Harry stared, his eyes welling up with tears.

"I'm your conpar, aren't I?" Harry eventually asked.

Severus stilled.

"Why haven't you said anything?" Harry asked, his heart starting to break. "Do you not want me?"

"No," Severus said, his voice a paragon of calm. "That's not it at all. I didn't want to risk hurting you more after everything I'd done."

"And when I said how scared I was that my conpar might be dead, you could have said something then! I…" Harry gave a weak laugh and raked a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to say. I'm feeling too many things right now."

"Please"—Severus advanced a step—"say that you'll forgive me, that you'll grant me an opportunity to make amends."

Tears spilt down Harry's cheeks. "Severus, I forgave you weeks ago. But…it's all a bit much. I need some time to take it all in."

The cold, distant barrier that usually shrouded Severus fell, and his eyes immediately filled with tears. "Please…don't go."

Gazing at Severus' face, Harry said, "We can talk more tomorrow."

Severus gave a hard swallow and nodded. "Understood," he uttered softly.

Harry reclaimed his broom and the bouquet. He then strode past the gates, each heavy step tying his stomach into a tighter knot.

Upon turning around, Harry found Severus' face etched with such despair that he felt compelled to say something: "Severus, I'm not leaving forever; I'll see you tomorrow morning. I promise."

The very next moment, Harry disappeared with a heart-rending crack.

Chapter Text

Growing up, Severus had learnt promises were fickle things, that only disappointment would be his lasting companion.

And yet, here he was, standing in the Entrance Hall, waiting. He glanced again at his pocket watch: twenty-two past nine. He sighed.

The main entrance door banged open, and Harry, astride his broom, swooped inside.

If Severus didn't have Occlumency shields of steel, he would have collapsed in relief and joy. Harry had kept his word and returned.

Harry came to a stop and dismounted. "Sorry I'm late," he said, panting. "I, ah, overslept." A lovely blush saturated his cheeks.

A knowing smirk crossed Severus' face. "I'm very pleased to see you," he confessed after a short pause, moving closer to tenderly cup Harry's face. As he leant in, Harry's eyes widened, then slowly drifted shut. Their lips hovered a whisper apart, the warmth of Harry's quickened breath playing on Severus' skin. "May I…may I kiss you?"

Harry bobbed his head and replied, "Sure."

Does he want me as much as I want him? Severus mused.

Changing his mind at the last second, Severus gave Harry's stella a sweet peck before murmuring, "Good morning."

"Morning," Harry replied softly, his eyes still closed.

As Harry's eyelids fluttered open to reveal dilated pupils filled with unmistakable desire, Severus felt himself harden instantly. The temptation to back Harry against a wall, coaxing him into helpless mewls of pleasure, was nearly overwhelming.

"Severus?"

Severus snapped himself out of his ill-timed fantasy. "Yes?"

"You've yet to try out the spyglass," Harry said, extending the small telescope towards him. "Given the ground we need to cover, I thought you might find it useful in locating the Keystone whilst I'm airborne."

And then a painful realisation struck him: Harry was here more out of duty than an actual desire to be with him.

With a deep inhalation, Severus accepted the spyglass with a brusque nod. "Thank you."

"I'll begin in here," said Harry as he hurriedly remounted his broom before darting away.

He's probably eager to be done with this so that he can tell me off sooner, Severus dejectedly thought.

Sighing, Severus unrolled the flying carpet on the floor. He stepped onto it, sat, and slowly rose until he was hovering at chest height.

While Harry scrutinised the lofty ceiling of the Entrance Hall, Severus familiarised himself with the spyglass. He could translate many of the runes, but some were too esoteric even for him.

Severus thoroughly searched the space using the different functions: One revealed nothing; another turned the room into a light show. The third offered him a close-up view of Harry's posterior. While the fourth made Filius' charmed flower arrangements go still.

The last function was another story.

"Harry," Severus beckoned.

A second later, he felt the air around him displace at Harry's arrival.

"Found anything?" Harry asked. "Because I've stumbled upon nothing—not even dust or cobwebs."

"Indeed, I have found something," Severus replied, his gaze affixed to the wall where the two giant hourglasses once stood. Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's had been destroyed in the final battle, leaving their spots disconcertingly vacant.

"You might want to erect a shield," Severus warned.

Harry quickly did so.

Severus aimed his wand. "Bombarda."

Stone cracked.

He cast the spell again.

Chunks of stone fell to the ground, exposing dark-stained wood beneath.

Following another controlled blast, the stone wall crumbled to the floor and revealed what Severus had seen through the spyglass: a pair of doors engraved with the Hogwarts coat of arms.

Harry gave him a wide, happy smile, and Severus returned it with a genuine one of his own.

Having ascertained that there were no curses, he signalled Harry to open the doors.

They flew into a large room, Severus first, then Harry. Tall windows provided natural light and views of the lake and forest. Shades of purple with copper accents decorated the space, and groups of sofas, tables, and chairs for places to relax or converse were organised throughout.

Gryffindor's chambers bore a striking resemblance to an oversized common room.

"Brilliant," Harry whispered.

Severus, on the other hand, felt indifferent.

Together, they hunted for the Keystone.

But, after one pass, and then another, they found nothing.

"This isn't it," said Harry, reaching the same conclusion as Severus.

"I agree," Severus replied. "I believe this is exactly what it looks like—a common room—albeit one where all houses once intermingled."

"I think it's great and a shame it was locked away." Harry gazed at him with a hopeful expression. "Do you think you'll keep it?"

"Perhaps…" But after seeing Harry's pleading face, Severus decided he would indeed be keeping it.

Harry started for the exit. "Where to next?"

"Let us proceed to the Chamber of Reception."

Harry nodded in agreement and drifted towards the open doors. Severus followed suit, keeping pace with him.

Crossing the Entrance Hall, they entered the Chamber of Reception, a room of such modest size that it could easily be mistaken for a glorified cupboard, thus necessitating only a brief examination. From there, they went directly to the connected Great Hall and continued investigating all the places burnt away on Slytherin's map: the Great Hall Chamber, a storeroom, the Grand Staircase, and the Portrait Room.

But even with the aid of the spyglass, they were no closer to finding Gryffindor's chambers by the end of their search.

Severus and Harry did find a secret stairwell in the Great Hall that led to the Headmaster's office, a portrait of Morgan le Fay that was bricked over and would remain so, and an infestation of Cobble Ants that Argus would need to contend with.

Severus growled in frustration, then said, "We're dealing with Gryffindor; whatever we're missing must be glaringly obvious."

"Hey!" exclaimed Harry, looking affronted.

"Unlike Slytherins, Gryffindors aren't known for their cunning," Severus stated the plain fact.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You mean sneakiness."

Severus rolled his eyes and said, "Stones and glass houses, Harry."

Harry attempted not to grin but failed. Then, remembering why they were there, he sighed. "Something obvious…" he mumbled thoughtfully.

A dawning expression slowly rose on Harry's face. "I have an idea. Follow me."

Harry backtracked into the Grand Staircase, then flew straight upwards to the seventh floor. After dismounting his broom, he planted his feet on the landing and waited for Severus to do the same.

"You think Gryffindor's chambers are in Gryffindor Tower," Severus dryly remarked, landing and stepping off the flying carpet.

Harry huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "No." He started to climb down the stairs. "You can fly without needing anything, right?"

"Indeed…" Severus drawled, his eyes narrowing.

"Isn't it peculiar how, at times, the stairs seem to stop in front of thin air?"

Severus blinked. "Do you believe they truly lead to Gryffindor's chambers?"

"Well, it would certainly require bravery, daring, and nerve to leap off from here," said Harry, peering over the bannister.

"Students and professors have fallen off the stairs in the past," Severus countered.

"But were any of them thinking about Gryffindor's chamber when they did? And…" Harry continued, "I reckon it'll only work for you. Gryffindor wouldn't have wanted students, or even, other staff inviting themselves."

Suddenly, the stairway they were on swung to the left and stopped.

"It shouldn't be too hard," Harry teased, wrapping his arms tightly around Severus. "All you have to do is make sure we don't splatter all over the floor."

"Charming," Severus muttered. He sighed. "Alright then. On three."

Harry swallowed.

"One. Two. Three!"

Gazing into each other's eyes, they jumped.

As they began to fall, Harry quickly wrapped his legs around Severus' thighs.

Severus drew in a sharp breath in surprise but maintained his focus on the image of Gryffindor's chambers and their precipitously rapid descent. He also noted the staircases below seemed to be moving out of their way. Coincidence or design?

After another couple of seconds had ticked by, and they had plummeted more than half the distance, Severus held Harry tighter, readying himself to whisk them both to safety.

Another second. Severus' heart hammered.

Severus had a fraction of a second to react—

"Oof!"

With Harry still atop him, Severus bounced into the air before settling.

Harry groaned and sat up. Righting his askew glasses, he surveyed their surroundings. Meanwhile, still supine, Severus also assessed their current situation.

Both of them reached the same conclusion simultaneously: They were on a bed. And Harry was straddling him.

Harry's eyes widened to the size of cauldrons while Severus' mental shields cracked and colour spread across his cheeks.

"Sorry," Harry said, hurriedly moving off Severus' hardening groin area.

"There's no need to apologise, Harry."

Not bothering to hide his arousal, Severus rolled off the bed and stood to get a better viewpoint of Gryffindor's private chambers.

The room was nothing extravagant, merely a cosy bedroom with a desk and wardrobe. The predominant colour was, of course, red. And that colour scheme included the ceiling, where a large ruby acted as the focal point.

Finally, they'd found the last Keystone.

Severus sighed in relief. He turned to celebrate the accomplishment with Harry and discovered that Harry was fidgeting nervously and, strangely, had not left the bed.

Harry drew in a deep breath. "Look, Severus," he started, a newfound courage in his voice. "I've been turning this over in my head, you know? And I've decided. Before we go through with the transfer, I think...I think we should bond."

His voice dropped a bit quieter: "If you're not up for it, I understand, truly. But if you are...if you're willing, I reckon we should do it now. I don't fancy waiting any longer to be bonded to you."

Have I fallen asleep? Severus thought, unable to accept what he'd just heard. This can't be real. To bond with Harry, my conpar…

"Is this a dream?" Severus voiced his thought aloud.

Harry's face softened. He shook his head. "No, it's not a dream, Severus. But if it were, would you consider this a good or bad one?"

Severus slowly moved closer to the bed as though approaching a wild creature he didn't want to spook. "If this were a dream,"—he sat on the edge of the bed—"it would be exceptionally good."

Harry smiled. "Would it?"

"Yes."

"So, do you want to bond?" Harry asked.

"No."

Harry's face fell.

Severus cupped Harry's face. "I want you," he affirmed, leaning forward but stopping just short of their lips touching, waiting for Harry's response.

While Severus held his breath, Harry moved that last fraction of an inch, and they kissed.

The kiss was simple, no biting or battling for dominance, just a simple kiss. But its honest simplicity was what made Severus forget his very name. There were no influences from powerful magic or pushes from the conpares bond, only their meeting in equal desire.

Harry gently pulled away, a loopy grin spreading across his face. Lowering his head, he placed his lips where Severus' stella hid, then gazed up.

Gulping, Severus felt himself harden.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Harry said.

Feeling crushed, Severus bolstered his Occlumency barriers. "It's alright if you're having second—"

"No. I mean, I've never had sex before," Harry explained, "so I don't know what I'm doing."

Elation filled Severus, and pre-come dribbled from his cock at Harry's words.

"If that's the case, I would be open to bottoming," Severus said. "Bottoming for the first time tends to be uncomfortable." Severus grinned. "We can save that for your future explorations."

Harry's eyes shot wide open in disbelief. "You…you'd let me top?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, yeah. I can't see you ever putting yourself in such a vulnerable position."

"Being in a vulnerable position has been my life," Severus drawled softly. "It's the very definition of what a spy is."

Harry pressed his lips together, then gave him a slow nod. "Okay. But…what if, you know, I can't last."

"Trust me," said Severus with a sly grin. He removed a small bottle of translucent liquid from the store of potions he always kept on hand. "Harry, do you recall what Sulis' Remedy is?"

"Isn't it a pain-relief potion for body aches and when you have to listen to people sing off-key?"

"If taken orally, yes. Because of other more effective potions, many overlook that it can act as a temporary, mild anaesthetic when applied to the skin. This will allow you to enjoy yourself without the risk of getting carried away."

"Maybe"—Harry turned Gryffindor red—"maybe I should put on some now. I'm about to burst."

Severus smirked. "Here"—he moved further over the covers and encouraged Harry to lie down—"let me help you."

With skilled movements, Severus undid Harry's trousers, eased down his pants, and revealed Harry's dripping length. Severus carefully dribbled a few drops of the potion on it, grinning at Harry's subsequent gasp. Not wanting to numb his hand, he cast a spell to spread the liquid evenly.

"We'll need to wait a minute for the potion to absorb," Severus said while appreciating the size, shape, and glossy gleam of Harry's cock.

Much to Severus' surprise, Harry swiftly knelt and began unbuttoning Severus' clothes, starting with his left cuff. Impatient for Harry's touch, Severus cursed his decision to don his full robes.

Harry made quick work of all the buttons on Severus' frock coat and, once done, pushed it off along with Severus' billowy robe. Next, he tackled Severus' navy blue cravat and his white shirt.

The open shirt was a long, narrow window, affording Harry a peek of Severus' stella. Grinning, Harry teasingly slipped off Severus' tie; he then lightly slid a finger down the length of Severus' exposed skin.

Severus moaned. Unable to wait another second, he wrapped one arm around Harry's back and, with the other, held the back of Harry's neck. Pressing their mouths together, Severus urged him to open for him. Harry obliged, parting his lips, and their tongues entwined. The taste of dark chocolate mingled with black tea filled Severus' mouth, while the smell of amber, sandalwood, and vanilla enveloped him: a veritable feast for Severus' senses.

Whilst delving into Harry's mouth, Severus divested Harry of his shirt. He followed the line of Harry's spine to his arse with his fingers, then gently squeezed the luscious globes.

Harry's hands were busy as well. He frantically unfastened Severus' trousers before timidly exploring the shape of Severus' cock, still hidden away in his pants.

Panting, Harry pushed at Severus's chest. He swallowed. "I can feel the potion is working. How long will it last?"

"About half an hour, give or take," Severus said, sweeping strands of hair off his face with his fingers.

Harry licked his swollen lips. "Okay. Then let's finish undressing." Dropping onto his back, he kicked off his shoes before shimmying out of his trousers and pants.

Severus smiled at Harry's eagerness and helped him remove his—of course—scarlet and gold socks.

Once Harry was bare, Severus lazily let his eyes roam. Unlike him, Harry had a smattering of chest hair. His nipples were dusky pink buds, hard from his arousal and calling to him. As he gazed at Harry's flushed face, Severus took one nub into his mouth, sucking, lightly nibbling, and teasing with licks and breaths of cool air. He switched nipples and began to lightly run a finger along the crack of Harry's arse, sometimes skimming Harry's balls.

Harry let out a moan, then softly said, "Severus, please."

Severus acquiesced and straightened up.

Harry took full advantage and encouraged Severus to recline. He scurried to the foot of the bed and tugged off Severus' black boots, socks, and trousers, leaving only his dishevelled shirt and pants. Harry's face displayed a succession of emotions—lust, trepidation, uncertainty, and finally, decision.

Swallowing, Harry hooked his fingers under the band of Severus' boxers, then, with the help of Severus, guided them down his long legs. Now faced with the thick erection, Harry could only stare in astonishment. He reached out, wanting to touch, but stopped.

"Go ahead," Severus encouraged.

Severus' eyes fluttered shut as Harry's warm hand enveloped him. Harry shyly touched, following the veins on Severus' cock, playing with its foreskin, and spreading pre-come around its sensitive tip.

"Severus?"

"Yes," Severus gasped as Harry moved his explorations to his bollocks.

"Would you drop your Occlumency?"

Severus groaned. He knew he would eventually have to remove his shields for the bond, but he hadn't had sex in years. Harry's caresses were already straining his control. Nevertheless, it seemed only fair.

"Very well," he rasped.

Severus closed his eyes. At least he was more prepared than in the past; lowering his mind protections had become easier from having to do so while repairing the Keystones.

As his emotions burst free, he felt Harry's hot mouth surround him.

"Fuck!" Severus exclaimed, grasping at the duvet beneath him as he writhed. There was no finesse to Harry's technique, but the thought of being inside Harry, sharing his intimate self with his conpar… He scrambled to squeeze the base of his cock.

"Harry, I believe we should proceed with binding our stellae," he said, attempting to sound calm but failing.

Giving Severus a knowing look, Harry parted from Severus' length. "Alright."

Harry sat up on his knees; Severus did the same.

Severus removed his shirt, giving Harry his first complete view of his stella.

"Do you feel that?" Harry asked dreamily. He touched Severus' chest, and Severus gasped.

"Yes," Severus answered.

Their stellae seemed to possess their own gravity, drawing each other ever closer.

Harry bowed his head. Severus knew the supplicant position was only possible because of Harry's true forgiveness and trust.

They moaned in unison as their stellae aligned, forming a perfect eclipse.

And then their stellae touched.

An awareness immediately filled Severus: Harry's joy. His magic. The softness of Harry's skin. The heat that radiated off his body. And desire. A desire to be wanted and to give.

"Harry…" Severus placed his hands on either side of Harry's head, encouraging him to look up.

"Severus?"

"It's time."

Severus lay down and spread his thighs. He couldn't locate his wand, but being able to sense his magic so clearly, he managed to prepare himself wandlessly.

Harry positioned his length between Severus' thighs. The tip of Harry's cock teased Severus' opening, circling and getting a feel. With an expression of lustful concentration, Harry slowly rocked into him, sliding in until Severus felt the weight of Harry's balls on his arse.

Severus gasped, needing to close his eyes for a moment.

"Are you okay?" asked Harry.

"Feels too good."

"Oh." Harry grinned. "My dick's still a little numb, but I can feel how hot and tight you are."

Severus moaned, Harry's words going straight to his cock and causing it to pulse. "Just…take it slow."

Harry nodded. "Okay."

With measured strokes, Harry learnt Severus' body. He leisurely pumped his hips as they shared wet kisses. Harry fondled Severus' bollocks, rolling them in his fingers and gently tugging the skin. He showed Severus the same tortuous kindness and teased Severus' nipples with his lips, teeth, and tongue, all the while steadily sliding in and out of him.

All of it nearly drove Severus mad. His cock resembled the melting was on a burning candle with the amount of pre-come running down its sides.

Suddenly, Harry moaned, stilling. "Fuck," he gasped.

Severus grinned, knowing the potion's effect had ended.

Harry breathed deeply, then narrowed his eyes in determination. At Harry's urging, Severus moved his legs onto Harry's shoulders.

Harry's next thrust was deep and directly struck Severus' prostate.

Inhaling sharply, Severus bowed his back. He then clutched Harry more tightly as he continued his relentless claiming.

"Where should I come?" asked Harry desperately.

"In me," Severus moaned. "I want you to come in me."

Severus was so close. "Harry…"

Harry cried out first, soon followed by Severus.

As come spurted into and out of him in a balance of pleasure, Severus felt his stella flair. A peace unlike anything he'd ever experienced guided him to Harry's lips. All restraint having been forgotten, tears dribbled down the sides of their faces while they passionately, then tenderly, kissed.

Once the tidal wave of magic and muscle spasms had dissipated, Harry placed a sweet peck on Severus' stella, then lay his cheek on Severus' chest.

Harry sighed in contentment, the sibilant sound reminding Severus of when they were in the Chamber.

"Would you mind saying something to me in Parseltongue?" asked Severus.

Frowning, Harry looked at him. "Doesn't my speaking it make you think of Voldemort?"

"Sometimes," Severus answered, "but in a factual way. I also know others who speak different languages. I have several potioneer colleagues from France and occasionally am reminded of them when I hear someone else conversing in French.

"Your speaking Parseltongue is a part of who you are, and I love who you are. I won't allow a trait you happen to share with the Dark Lord taint that. I enjoy it when you speak Parseltongue because it's you speaking it. For me, it's unbearably erotic when you do."

"Oh." Harry grinned. "Right then. Let me think."

A moment later, a series of tantalising hisses left Harry's mouth.

"What did you say?" asked Severus.

"I said,"—softly smiling, Harry kissed Severus' mouth—"'I'm falling in love with you.'"

Because Severus hadn't bothered to reconstruct his shields, his eyes irritatingly prickled. He cleared his throat, then stared at the Keystone up above. "Do you believe you have sufficient energy to donate magic?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. I've got plenty." His eyes widened. "Oh shit! We forgot to bring my broom or your flying carpet. How are we going to reach it?"

"It's probably just as well we didn't bring them," Severus mused. "Gryffindor would have seen no sport in simply flying away. I suspect we wouldn't have gained access had we brought them. A ladder, though, might have been useful."

"But we should be fine. I can fly us up. It will require more of my magical reserves, but it's feasible."

Harry sat up and moved off him. "Then let's do this," he said, his Gryffindor spirit leading the way.

"Let's," Severus agreed.

He patted around for his wand, finally finding it behind his pillow.

"Ready?" he asked, encircling Harry with his left arm.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Ventum, Severus thought.

"Wow," Harry exclaimed, delighted as they ascended from the bed. "You must teach me how you do this."

Severus snorted. "I shall add it to your ever-expanding list of extracurricular activities."

To his amusement, Harry blushed.

Having swiftly performed the necessary charms to authenticate the Keystone, Severus let his wand fall to the burgundy rug below. Sustaining the flying spell would now prove more difficult, but he had no alternative; his hand was needed to make contact with the Keystone.

"Whenever you're ready, Harry."

A breath later, Harry's magic started to pour into Severus. The sensation differed significantly from before. The transfer remained pleasurable but was now no longer arousing, more akin to enjoying a fine meal—that was, until Harry started to snog him.

Grinning, Severus didn't restrain himself. As a steady stream of magic passed through him and into the gem, he feasted on Harry's mouth; he sucked and nibbled on Harry's neck and relished the whimpers and sighs he heard. Fully aroused, they gyrated their hips, sliding their erections up and down against each other.

Severus moaned, pain and pleasure mixing. Power swirled around them in the room, and Severus felt a crashing wave, then another, as more of his magic was sapped away.

"Severus!" Harry cried out, cresting.

What felt like a rush of lightning struck Severus, robbing him of breath and momentarily blinding him as he simultaneously climaxed and felt Hogwarts' protections renew.

Severus' mind felt sluggish, his body heavy. He withdrew his hand from the Keystone and brought it around Harry.

As come dripped down their torsos, Harry went limp, fainting away. With a final surge of magic, Severus floated them safely above the bed; then, utterly exhausted, he joined Harry in unconsciousness.

Severus drew a long breath through his nostrils, and upon opening his eyes, he found Harry staring at him besottedly.

"Hi," Harry said with a grin.

"Hello," Severus replied, feeling somewhat silly for doing so.

Stretching, Severus sat up. He paused. He felt unusually at peace, and it wasn't solely because of post-coital bliss. Then he realised: the magical dissonance he'd been sensing from Hogwarts had disappeared.

Severus relaxed against a pillow. "What have you been up to?" he asked. "My hair hasn't mysteriously changed colour, has it?"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Nope, just enjoying the view"—he caressed Severus' cheek—"and thinking."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah. About all that's happened." Harry smiled. "I was wondering about something, too."

"Oh?"

"Did you ever figure out what that machine from Slytherin's study does? The spyglass is pretty impressive, so I couldn't help but wonder."

"Indeed, I did," Severus replied, brushing a strand of hair from Harry's forehead. "Though it's nothing as noteworthy as the spyglass. It's a music player capable of producing a mermaid's voice without the need to be underwater.

"Would you care to hear it for yourself? We'd need to go to…my office," Severus said, finally accepting the Headmaster's office as his own. "It's there because I thought Dumbledore would find it amusing. And it'll help drown out the portraits' nattering when I'm trying to concentrate."

"Yes," Harry answered. "I'd like that."

After dressing, they began their search for an exit.

Behind the portrait of a dragon being slain—Severus rolled his eyes—they found a possible exit, a door leading into a dim hallway.

"Lead the way, conpar," said Harry enthusiastically.

Hearing the endearment, Severus closed his eyes for a moment, having long given up hope of being addressed in such.

"My conpar,"—Severus kissed Harry's hand before looping his arm through Harry's—"it would be my utmost honour and pleasure."

After exiting the door at the end of the hallway, they arrived in front of the familiar tapestry of ballet-obsessed Barnabas the Barmy. Currently, Barnabas was unsuccessfully attempting to teach the fifth position.

"Should we get our things off the landing?" Harry asked, glancing in the direction of the stairs.

Severus thought for a moment. "No. We can always get them later."

"Alright," Harry agreed.

They started down the long corridor that led to the Headmaster's tower. While they walked, Severus did his best to ignore all the gossiping portraits following their steps. A good telling-off was on the tip of his tongue, but he refrained.

Once inside his office, Severus walked over to Slytherin's contraption on a shelf below the Sorting Hat. He tapped the machine's water-filled glass sphere, and a hauntingly lovely voice began to sing.

As the ethereal music filled the room, Harry strolled to one of the tall arched windows and looked out.

With sunlight shining on Harry's face, Severus stared at him with warmth and wonder.

Harry was falling in love with him, and Severus found himself doing the same.

He joined Harry and gazed at the lake's mirror-like surface far below.

Holding Harry close, he allowed himself a smile.

Finally, Severus was living.