Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Marriage of Convenience	By : NinaSweets Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 158860 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 44
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and places all belong to JK Rowling this is a not for profit story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Chapter Thirteen
Harry gasped, startled awake.
Something was wrong.
He wasn’t being dragged to shore by Cedric Diggory like he had thought he’d be when he awoke. In fact he wasn’t even in the lake though he was dripping wet.
He sat up slowly glancing around.
It was dark, still night time. There were no stars in the sky and the moon was new, just a sliver acting as light.
Harry carefully stood up glancing around wildly as he did so. He was in a graveyard. It seemed eerily familiar but that was impossible. He’d never been to a graveyard in his whole life. He was quite sure he hadn’t even gone to his parent’s funeral. His Aunt Petunia wouldn’t have bothered to take him regardless of the fact it was her own sisters funeral.
He spun around looking for clues as to where he might be. It was hard to see much, the tombstones were more like shadows then stones. There was one that stood out in the darkness. It was an angel; her white marble figure seemed to glow. She was beautiful, her hands and wings outstretched toward the heavens. Harry was drawn to her, walking forward before he even knew what he was doing.
He tripped over, very suddenly. His fall down had put him right before the names of those buried beneath the angel.

Fredrick Riddle

1864 - 1943

Alice Riddle

1870 - 1943

Thomas Riddle

1887 -1943
Voldemort’s name was Tom Riddle; did he murder his own parents? No the dates didn’t fit, his father was a Muggle and nothing made Voldemort angrier then coming from such filthy blood. This would be his father and his grandparents.
So this place had something to with Voldemort. Who had brought him here? Where was here?
Harry sighed slouching against the tombstone behind him.
What was going on? Was it part of the task? Harry couldn’t understand how it would be and he didn’t see Hermione or the little Delacour girl.
He paused and stood up very suddenly.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
He was being watched.
Harry needed to get out of here. Fast!
His scar burned.
The pain came so suddenly and sharply he was momentarily blinded by it.
He turned, wand raised, but he was too slow. The angel behind grabbed him, holding him in a choke hold and ropes bound his legs to the tombstone.
He struggled pointlessly; the angel tightened her grip cutting off his air supply. He gasped struggling even more but his vision was getting blurry, slipping to blackness so he gave up.
His scar was now bleeding and he slumped forward in the angel’s harsh grip.
Voldemort.
A bright blinding light had Harry wincing sharply. There was a fire. It was lit under a cauldron Harry hadn’t seen in the darkness. By the new light he could see around him much more clearly. There was a short figure standing by the cauldron, his hood drawn up over his face. In his arms was a clothed bundle that was squirming like a fussy baby.
He came around to stand before Harry and he caught sight of the face.
Wormtail...
The bundle in his arms was placed before Harry’s feet and Wormtail straightened up. He looked nervous and frightened but when he caught Harry’s eyes with his own he smirked. Harry opened his mouth and spat out the dirtiest word he knew. A word he knew would have

Snape grabbing him by the ear and literally washing his mouth out with soap.
Wormtail’s black little eyes narrowed and he shoved a wad of cloth into Harry’s mouth to shut him up.
Harry growled in frustration and renewed his struggles for freedom. It was useless but it made him feel better.
The cauldron began to bubble with the fire lit underneath it, sparking sharply as it grew to a boil.
Wormtail leant down to pick up the bundle of cloth in front of him and Harry gasped catching sight of the creature within. There was no other way to describe the skeletal being; it was hairless and scaly with blood red eyes and a snake’s face.
Voldemort.
Wormtail dropped the creature in the bubbling mixture which hissed and spat sharp sparks in every direction.
There was a loud clang as the thing hit the bottom of the cauldron.
Wormtail was raising his wand, he was chanting and Harry gasped as the grave he stood on cracked open slightly, dust flew up and sprinkled down into the cauldron.
Wormtail dropped his wand and lifted a dagger. He held his hand over the cauldron, his right hand drawn tightly into a fist and his left hand trembling as he raised it high above his head.
Harry’s eyes slammed shut as he realised what Wormtail was about to do. A cry pierced the night as Wormtail stabbed at his own hand. The limb was not detaching easily and the sounds were just sickening. Harry leant forward to throw up, the cloth being pushed from his mouth along with last night’s dinner. He listened to the sound of the splatter preferring it to the awful wail Wormtail was making.
Harry and Wormtail were both gasping, both feeling two very different kinds of pains but both were caused by the same horrible thing.
Wormtail gave one last whimpered cry and there was a loud crack as something snapped off, Harry heard splattering then a dull thud.
Wormtail was crying softly and there was a splash as something heavy was dropped in the potion.
Then those cries were right in front of his face. Harry’s eyes snapped open and he’d wished for all he was worth he’d kept them closed.
Wormtail was standing before him both arms outstretched toward him. One holding the bloody dagger and the other... the other...
Harry screamed and tried to kick out with his legs but it was no use. The angel tightened her grip around his neck and torso while Wormtail raised the dagger. He made a quick slice across Harry’s cheek and dropped the dagger quickly. He fumbled in his cloak, awkwardly with only one hand the other spewing blood all over Harry and the tombstone. The smell of iron was strong in Harry’s nose; both his own blood and Wormtail’s now splattered all over his face due to the other mans fumbling.
Wormtail found the little glass vial he’d been searching for and held it to Harry’s cheek. Once he’d collected enough of Harry’s blood he headed back over to the potion and poured it in. His job now done he sat and wrapped his robes around the bloodied stump where his hand used to be, trying to staunch the bleeding.
The cauldron bubbled, sparks flying the colour going from a bright red to a blinding white. Smoke came billowing out of the cauldron and in its shadow Harry could see something.
No
No
No
No!
A tall skeletal figure stood slowly. The smoke was clearing. The man was tall and thin, long legs easily stepping over the cauldrons edge. He stalked toward Harry his pale white skin was sickly translucent and his face was sharp, his slit nostrils breathed in deeply. The eyes snapped open and bright red was staring into endless green.
Lord Voldemort was back.
Harry’s breath was stuck in his throat and he didn’t dare move an inch while under that intense gaze.
Voldemort turned away from him sharply. His eyes turned instead to study his new body. He held out his hands in front of himself wriggling his long fingers carefully. The hands then turned to touch his face and head studying his own features with a passing brush. They moved down to his arms and across his pale thin chest tracing the ribs protruding on his thin form.
Harry really didn’t need to see Voldemort exploring the rest of himself especially not the lower parts. Nope!
It was time to go!
Now!
Harry startled to struggle once again, working instead on trying to pull his legs free so he could at least kick out.
He couldn’t think right, he was shaking, his hands were slippery. He was scared. Very scared and it was horrifying which was making it worse. He wanted to cry but that wouldn’t help anyone especially himself.
Voldemort was speaking and Harry’s heart froze at the sound. It gave a shuddering stop and skipped leaving Harry’s chest burning and he gasped.
“Your arm Wormtail,” Voldemort ordered.
His voice was so cold it felt like ice in Harry’s heart. He could almost hear his mother’s voice again, screaming in his ears begging and pleading for his life. She wasn’t here now though and Harry knew it would take some kind of miracle to get out of this alive.
Snape always joked about how lucky he was, but he wasn’t feeling very lucky right now.
“I wonder who will show up,” Voldemort said conversationally. He was pulling on the robes Wormtail had left by the cauldron as he spoke.
Harry wasn’t quite sure who he was talking to but it also seemed like he didn’t particularly care. Wormtail was too busy whimpering over his hand and Harry was trying to think of an escape plan. Obviously unsuccessful on that so far...
“Who do you think will run?” Voldemort asked, he glanced down at Wormtail and realised the man was preoccupied so he turned to Harry instead.
“You’re standing on my father’s grave. The filthy Muggle didn’t quite know what hit him. He died with fear in his eyes. I killed him last just for that. I wanted that expression in my head for the rest of my life. My grandfather was laughing; he went down quicker than your father did. Grandmother spilt her tea all over her pretty dress,” Voldemort said. Harry just stared, he didn’t think saying what he was thinking would help he very much.
“They did serve a far greater purpose in their deaths then they ever did in life. Much like your mother,” Voldemort mused and Harry glared at him.
Voldemort smirked in reply to Harry’s glare and turned to face away. He pointed with a long thin finger to a house sitting on a hill, just visible beyond the walls of the graveyard. It was where the Riddles had lived; Voldemort’s mother had lived here in town as well the man told Harry. She had fallen in love with the young Riddle but he left her when he heard about her magic. She died in childbirth but not before cursing Voldemort with his filthy Muggle father’s name.
His face was angry as he finished his little tale but it changed quickly when he heard a loud crack.
A figure appeared out of thin air, moving forward from the shadows. Another similar sound followed and another person began to walk forward. The air was filled with loud cracks and the swishing of robes as more and more people appeared.
They were all wearing thick dark cloaks and white skeletal masks obscuring the top half of their faces.
Deatheaters, there had only been a few at the Quidditch World Cup earlier in the year. Now there was over a dozen.
They formed a circle around Harry, Wormtail and Voldemort. Harry could hear their shuddering breaths, they were scared, nervous, and none of them were quite sure what to do or say.
Voldemort looked around the circle noting the gaps in between his followers. They seemed to be waiting for more people but Voldemort wasn’t expecting more.
There was silence as he looked around the circle, spending at least half a minute staring at the people in turn. He began to call them out, asking and accusing them of deserting him when they’d promised their lives to his cause.
By the end of Voldemort’s twenty minute long interrogation most of the Deatheaters had been hit at least twice with the violent torture curse, the Cruciatus.
Harry was concerned that Voldemort was only being so open in front of him because he knew Harry wouldn’t be around long enough to tell anyone.
“Did all of you really think,” Voldemort said slowly and turned to Harry, “that I would be defeated by this... child?”
“That is what you’re telling me, that you thought I was gone for good because of our guest of honour,” Voldemort said, he didn’t take his eyes off Harry as he spoke. “You’re supposed to be so protected Harry, so.... untouchable... but no longer,”
One long spindly finger was reaching forward, Harry tried to move away on instinct but Voldemort simply smirked.
The touch was excruciating, it felt like fire tracing where Voldemort did and Harry cried out sharply. Even when the man pulled away the burning pain remained hot and stinging harshly.
“So Harry,” Voldemort said softly tracing his fingers down Harry’s face again. Harry pulled away with a cry and wound up smacking his head right into the angels face. He slumped forward with a whimper and all Voldemort did was continue to touch.
“Harry,” Voldemort repeated ignoring Harry’s stupid actions. He reached down to Harry’s left hand and bent down to examine the ring on his finger. Harry tried to hide it away but that was as useless as pulling away had been.
“So it’s true,” Voldemort said and stood up straighter to stare at Harry. His head was tilted a little to side as his eyes studied Harry’s face like he was some kind of interesting creature in the zoo and not a boy he’d tried to kill numerous times.
“Has he fucked you yet?” Voldemort asked and the Death Eaters all sniggered.
“No, he’s too big actually,” Harry snapped with a pointed look at Voldemort’s crotch.
The Death Eaters had been stunned into silence by his bold statement but Harry knew Voldemort understood exactly what his glance had implied.
The red eyes narrowed and Harry gave a small smirk. Voldemort had understood and wasn’t pleased but Harry wasn’t going to go down without a fight, his petty comment had been completely worth it.
“Shame, I know he was so looking forward to,” Voldemort continued on, not bothering to punish Harry for the comment.
The angel suddenly released Harry and he fell forward, his legs freed from their roped prison as well.
“He’ll never get the chance now,” Voldemort said and turned. He walked a short way away and then turned back to face Harry.
“Let’s duel Harry, you do know how yes?” Voldemort asked, “Pick up your wand,”
Harry grabbed his wand from where he’d dropped it after the angel grabbed him. He stood slowly and stared at Voldemort.
“Now we bow,” Voldemort said and did a very low graceful bow. Like a gentleman inviting a lady for a dance, not like a crazed murderer about to kill him.
“Bow Harry,” Voldemort said, Harry lowered his head slightly like he did with Buckbeak, never taking his eyes away from the red ones that watched him.
Voldemort fired first and Harry did a very spectacular dive out of the way. He heard the angel explode behind him.
He scrambled up watching as Voldemort stalked toward him. He stepped back as Voldemort approached and headed right as Voldemort did so there was always the same distance in between them. It was an odd dance, with one of them firing off a spell only rarely. Harry couldn’t block so he would have to dive out of the way but Voldemort easily deflected his spells.
He was graceful he was fluid, confident and intelligent. He struck with precision not bothering to play about, this was going to end. Tonight.
“Avada Kedavra!”
The spell seemed to move in slow motion and Harry gasped. It wouldn’t end like this, it couldn’t.
“Expelliarmus!” Harry panicked and hoped against all hope this spell would save him.
The spells collided in mid-air, the green of Voldemort’s spell and the red of Harry’s changing to a bright blinding gold. The spells locked together connecting Harry’s wand to Voldemort’s.
Harry’s hand tightened around his wand, it was vibrating painfully but he knew he couldn’t let go. Voldemort’s wand was vibrating as well; his red eyes were focused on Harry. His face set into a cruel mask of determination.
The Death Eaters were all very confused; they didn’t know what to do. Voldemort ordered them all back.
“He’s mine! Do nothing unless I say!” Voldemort barked.
Harry was watching the gold thread, adding his left hand to hold it over his right to try and steady the wand. He knew he shouldn’t break the connection. Something was happening. It was important not to break the connection.
Little beads began to form on the gold thread as if the connection was also tired. The beads were sliding closer to Harry, his wand vibrated harder the closer they got. He couldn’t let them touch his wand, he didn’t know what would happen but it would be bad.
The beads began to move away from him, toward Voldemort. The man pushed against them like Harry had but Harry had gotten used to the feeling now and had been holding steady for longer.
The first bead hit Voldemort’s wand and he hissed sharply. The wand shot out a few sparks.
Suddenly something grey was squeezing out of the wand. It was a head, a human head. Harry glanced at Voldemort and saw him to be just as startled as he was.
The head moved further out and was followed by shoulders then torso then the figure seemed to stumble out of the wand and onto the ground. He stood up and dusted himself off glancing around in amazement.
Harry gasped; it was the man from his dream. The one he’d had in the summer just before the World Cup.
This man had been murdered by Voldemort.
It was happening again; a woman emerged this time and shot Voldemort a very cold angry look. She then gave Harry an encouraging smile and waved the man into following her. The two of them moved to stand beside him and glared at Voldemort. They were like ghosts but Harry knew they weren’t. They were more like echoes. They were coloured but very washed out, transparent, like Dudley’s old clothes Harry wore. They’d been washed and dried in the sun so many times their original colours were faded.
There were more sparks shooting from Voldemort’s wand, colours flashing brightly though most often was that awful killing curse green.
It seemed like the spells were going in reverse from their most recent to the oldest. Harry gasped when he realised what would happen.
A red head began to emerge. Long hair trailing down to the ground as the figure was pushed out of the wand. Lily Potter stood and smiled at Harry hurrying over to him. She stopped short of touching him and put her hand on her chest.
“Oh Harry” she said softly.
“Mum,” Harry breathed and she grinned at him.
“You’re doing so well, I’m so proud, so, so proud!” she said still smiling.
“Mum, I...”
“It’s all right,” she reassured him.
Harry hadn’t known what he was going to say. Perhaps he was going to apologise for inadvertently getting her killed. Maybe he just wanted to say how much he loved her. It didn’t matter though. He smiled back at her and she reached out to touch him again. She petted his arm, it felt like a gentle breeze caressing him.
“You’re fathers coming, just hold on,” Lily said and stepped back a little but didn’t take her arm away from his, lending him strength to hold onto the connection.
A dark messy black head emerged, a man, he struggled out of the wand and dropped to the ground. He stood straight and tall facing Voldemort.
Voldemort stared back, the shock was gone from his face but he couldn’t quite muster up the cool glare Harry usually received.
James Potter, however, had no such hesitations and gave the man a dark look as he backed up to stand beside his son.
“Dad,” Harry said
“I can’t believe you married Snape,” James muttered.
“James!”
“What? He’s gross Lily,”
“James! Harry, like his mother, can’t help the stupid git he fell for,” Lily said.
“Point taken,” James said and turned to Harry.
“How are you?” he asked
“I’ve been better,” Harry replied awkwardly.
“You’re doing great,” James said and Harry smiled at him. “Though, we do need to get you out of here, quickly. When you break the connection we will linger for a moment. It should be long enough to distract him; while we do that you’re going to run over to Wormtail. He owes the Potters a life debt, you shall invoke it”
“What’s a life debt?”
“Ask Severus when you get home,” Lily said brightly.
“You run up to Wormtail and tell him exactly this, ‘Pettigrew, I invoke the right of the life debt you owe the Potters, get me out of here safely,’” James said, “Can you do that?”
“Y-yes” Harry said nervously.
“You should have just enough time but you must be very, very fast” James said.
“Okay,” Harry said, “Dad, I-”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be back in Snapes’ greasy-”
“James!”
“You’ll be fine, okay?”
“Okay,”
“Good boy, I love you,”
“I love you,” Harry said and turned to Lily, “and you too, thank you both so much,”
The both gave him an odd sort of hug, Harry felt like he’d been caught in a windstorm from their touches. So fierce was their desire to wrap him up tightly.
“Get ready,” James said.
Harry nodded and braced himself, glaring down the gold thread at Voldemort who was watching them intently.
“NOW!” James shouted.
Harry pulled his wand sharply to the right and the thread broke. The spirits dived forward toward Voldemort who let out a cry of anger.
Harry sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him; he headed straight to the cauldron. Wormtail was still huddled beside it, clutching the bloody stump where his hand had been.
Harry grabbed him roughly and hauled him up so they were looking each other in the face.
“Pettigrew! I invoke the right of the life debt you owe the Potters, get me out of here safely!” Harry spoke so quickly and panicked that he was petrified he’d have to repeat himself.
Magic was on his side though as Wormtail’s beady black eyes widened and he reluctantly raised his wand with his left hand.
Then Harry was gone, Voldemort’s angry roar ringing in his ears.
Harry gasped and sat up. He was in a field. In the middle of nowhere.
Harry looked around wildly. He had no clue where he was and he had no money. He was stranded, dirty and cold and all he had with him was his wand and very limited knowledge of spells.
Stranded?
Oh!
The Knight Bus! Emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard!
Harry flung his wand arm out and a few seconds later there was a loud bang!
The triple-decker purple bus pulled to a stop in front of him.
Harry smiled at the sight of it, he had no money but at least with magical people there would be a lot less questions then with some kind hearted Muggles. They’d insist on taking him to the hospital who would call the police who’d take him to the Dursley’s.
The doors slid open and the conductor stepped out. Harry was glad to see it was not Stan Shunpike, whom he had encountered on his last trip on the Knight Bus. It was a woman this time; she was very short and had very thick glasses. The purple of her uniform was the exact shade of the bus behind her.
“Hello, welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Francis Langley; I’ll be your conductor for this evening,” she said.
“Uh... I need to get to Hogwarts,” Harry said. She frowned at him, Harry let her look. Her eyes got wider and wider and when they reached his lightning bolt scar she was practically gaping.
“You’re... you’re-”
“I don’t have any money but it’s an emergency, please. Can you take me to Hogwarts?” Harry asked.
“Oh, of course, of course! Sit, sit!” she insisted hauling him inside.
Harry climbed up into the bus and glanced around. Harry had never travelled on the bus by day but he assumed there were seats. At night time however there was a set of beds on each floor that would slide all over the place as the bus moved. The Knight Bus was driven by a very old man who had a lot of difficulty seeing over the big steering wheel named Ernie Prang. He was driving tonight, nodding along to the orders Francis was giving him.
Harry sat down on one of the beds with a quiet sigh. Harry couldn’t see anyone else on the floor and Francis told him there wasn’t anyone else on the bus after giving him some water.
It took nearly two hours of jumping through the country side to reach Hogsmeade.
The bus finally screeched to a stop, with a loud sudden bang that threw Harry forward from the bed he was sitting on.
He dusted himself off, thanked both Ernie and Francis for the trip and promised he’d send money for the fair along with Hedwig.
The bus disappeared quickly and Harry was left in the darkened streets of Hogsmeade. He quickly set off toward Hogwarts, lighting his wand as he went.
The town was very different in the dead of night, the shop windows were darkened and the light of the street lamp cast eerie shadows across the street.
Harry heard a rattling sound and quickened his pace, the quicker he got to Hogwarts the better.
The sound happened again and Harry stopped to look around. It was coming from an alleyway nearby.
Harry felt he’d had enough excitement for the night and so while usually he foolishly would have gone and had a look tonight he did not and continued on his way.
“Harry?”
Harry turned sharply and let out a breath of relief. It was Sirius.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked.
“What are you doing?” Sirius shot back and Harry raised his eyebrows at him refusing to answer until Sirius did. Sirius sighed and waved an arm behind him to the alley as he replied, “I’m an escaped convict living on the run, I’m eating trash Harry, what do you think I’m doing?”
Harry now felt very awkward.
“Oh, I... um... I need to get into the castle. I think the gates are locked though”
“Well how did you get out of the castle?”
“I don’t know,” Harry replied.
Sirius frowned and walked over to him. He took in Harry’s appearance with wide eyes.
“Harry...” Sirius said. Harry just stared back at him.
He didn’t want to tell the story, Sirius should know but Harry didn’t want to tell him. Harry didn’t want to tell anyone right now. In fact what he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry.
He didn’t curl up in a ball but he did start to cry and what made it even worse was the look of heartbreak that crossed Sirius’ face when he saw it.
The thin man quickly hurried forward and pulled him into a hug.
“Do you have your wand?” Sirius asked, Harry nodded handing it over to the man.
Sirius frowned at it, having not held a wand in over thirteen years it was surely very odd to him but he obviously remembered enough because a second later a beautiful white dog sat in front of them.
Harry smiled at it, it was a Patronus charm, and they were used to repel Dementors. Harry was glad that Sirius still had enough happy memories to create one.
“Meet us at the Whomping Willow,” Sirius said to the creature. It nodded once and then quickly disappeared off in the direction of the castle.
“Its how we got messages to each other in the last war. I have a feeling we’ll need them again soon,” Sirius said quietly, more to himself then to Harry.
Sirius sighed and led Harry through Hogsmeade to the Shrieking Shack. Sirius used Harry’s wand to unlock the front door and then shut it and lock it tightly behind them. Harry let Sirius led the way through the decrepit shack. He hadn’t been here in nearly a year; it was where he’d met Sirius for the first time. He’d known the man for less than an hour and had been prepared to run away with him and away from the Dursley’s forever. Harry wondered what he’d say now if the man asked him to come and live with him.
They made their way through the shack to a trap door in the floor. Sirius pulled it open and climbed down the steps first into the hollowed out dirt tunnel down below. He shined the wand light onto the stairs so Harry could climb down safely.
They walked on in silence; it took about a half hour to get through the tunnel and up to the small hole that led to Hogwarts grounds.
“I can’t go with you,” Sirius said quietly, “But Dumbledore should be waiting right there,”
“Thank you,” Harry said and Sirius gave him one last hug.
The man handed Harry back his wand and turned reaching up through the hole to take a hold of a knot on the Whomping Willows roots. This made the tree freeze so Harry could safely climb out of the gap without getting hit by the angry trees flailing branches.
Harry hoisted himself up into the gap and climbed out onto the wet soggy grass. He turned to Sirius and smiled softly.
“Thank you,” he said again and Sirius nodded.
Harry stood up and quickly backed away to a safe distance, he could see Sirius’ pale hand holding the knot before it let go and the Whomping Willow sprang to life, thrashing its limbs about angrily trying to swipe at Harry who was too far away.
It was morning now; Harry could see the sun rising over the tops of the trees in the distance. The birds started to sing, greeting one another, the forest almost seemed to come to life as the creatures all woke up.
Harry turned and nearly smacked right into Dumbledore who was standing behind him.
Dumbledore’s blue eyes were sad as took in Harry’s appearance but he gave Harry a smile none the less.
“He’s back,” Harry said quietly.
“I thought this might happen,” Dumbledore replied and Harry’s shoulders slumped.
There was silence. The only noise was of the birds, singing good morning to one another, from the forest.
“To the hospital wing I think,” Dumbledore said.
“It’s not mine,” Harry said quietly,
Dumbledore simply held out an arm indicating Harry should lead the way. Harry sighed but led the way across the grounds and inside the castle.
Harry had hoped that because of the early hour he could slip inside unnoticed. That was no to be so as a group of fifth year Ravenclaw’s were making their way to the Great Hall for an early breakfast when Harry stepped into the entrance hall. He saw their wide eyed stares as they looked him up and down. One girl was opening her mouth to say something but the sight of Dumbledore climbing up the stone steps behind him had her shutting it tightly.
The group turned and hurried into the hall, no doubt waiting for more students to show up to spread their gossip with.
Harry couldn’t care less at the moment.
He walked into the hospital wing, Dumbledore following right behind him.
Madame Pomfrey hurried over and immediately began to drag Harry over to a bed.
He let Madame Pomfrey poke and prod at him while he told Dumbledore all he could remember. He didn’t know what had happened before he woke up in the graveyard and unfortunately never would. It was an odd feeling, having so many hours missing from your memory.
Dumbledore’s sleep spell had worked a little too well. Harry had no idea who had taken him or when exactly it had happened. It was over twelve hours of just nothing in his memory.
Dumbledore helped him fill in some of the blanks.
Professor Moody hadn’t really been Moody at all. He was an imposter, although who he had been was a mystery. The real Moody had been found in a trunk in the fake Moody’s rooms. He was currently sleeping in the bed several away from Harry.
The fake Moody had taken Harry from the lake at some point during the night and taken him to the graveyard.
There were so many unanswered questions and as Dumbledore had disappeared back to his office a few hours earlier Harry had been completely left alone with his thoughts.
He had been in panic mode in the graveyard, relying solely on instincts. Now that he had slowed down and could think about it everything was flooding through him. He was angry and frightened and aching and scared and hurt and confused. He just felt too many things all at once and they were jumbling all together. He was twitching from the overload, he couldn’t stop his hands shaking and he was worried he might start crying and he just couldn’t help but feel, irrational though it was that it would be a win for Voldemort against him. The man would enjoy Harry’s tears so he wouldn’t get them.
He rolled over in the bed trying to get some sleep; he was physically and emotionally exhausted and yet couldn’t sleep. His heart was still pumping too fast so he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He took a deep calming breath and then another to try and relax. It wasn’t working.
The door to the hospital wing slid open quietly but Harry sat bolt upright, his heart jumped and he was panting with the adrenaline that had just burst through him.
It was Snape.
Harry felt so much relief it seemed to just fall out of him and, embarrassingly, he started to cry.
“I’ve never had someone burst into tears at the mere sight of me,” Snape said, “actually that’s not true. Exam season usually gets the students quite upset,”
Harry didn’t say anything and so Snape walked over and sat down on the bed beside him.
“Are you all right?” Snape asked and Harry shrugged wiping his tears away furiously. They were in no mood to stop so he gave up and stared at Snape letting them flow freely.
“He does have that affect on people,” Snape said and Harry frowned.
“Were you...? Did you...?”
“I went later,” Snape said and Harry looked down at his knees.
Harry took a deep breath then another and another.
“So...” Harry started but stopped. What did this mean? What would happen?
Snape reached a hand forward and brushed it across Harry’s scar.
“You have a job to do, so do I,” Snape said simply and Harry nodded. He paused then shook his head pulling away.
“No,” Harry said and Snape leant back in his seat his face blank.
“No?”
“I don’t want to,” Harry said, “I... I’m so young,” he felt his tears double in force and he swiped at his face angrily. “I didn’t even understand half the spells he shot at me, who on earth decided it would be a good idea for him and I to be locked in this battle?”
“Well there wasn’t a meeting about it or anything,” Snape muttered and Harry stared at him. “I will help, Albus-”
“I don’t want help! I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS!” Harry yelled.
“We all have our duties,”
“Don’t! Don’t try to make this okay, you don’t understand!”
“No,” Snape admitted, “I don’t, but we all have tragic stories to tell Potter. Don’t think that just because yours has been in the public eye and shouted out the loudest makes it any more tragic and devastating then anybody else’s. No, I do not understand your story as I am selfishly caught up in my own and your Godfather is caught up in his and Albus is caught up in his.
Life. Is. Hard. For everyone. You are not special; you are not the only person in the world to have bad things happen to them. Wake up, this is the path you were given and you must walk it, would you truly wish this life upon anyone else?”
Harry shook his head no,
“I’m... scared,” Harry admitted.
“I’d call you a fool if you weren’t,”
“I keep thinking about... about... what if I didn’t... if I was slower or... if I... I...”
“Potter, Harry... don’t, you can’t live life with what if’s, they’ll destroy you,” Snape said and stood up.
“Wait!” Harry cried. He glanced over to where Moody was sleeping and saw the man was still fast asleep. He lowered his voice a little, “Please don’t leave.”
Snape sat down once more and carefully rearranged him so he could lie down on the tiny single bed beside him. Harry happily curled himself around the man when they were settled.
They lay in silence for a while. Harry couldn’t sleep still; he glanced up and saw Snape was still awake. Harry rolled over in the man’s arms so he was lying on his stomach with his head on resting on his chest. Snape raised an eyebrow at his wriggling companion and waited for Harry to speak. Harry didn’t and simply stared so Snape stared back.
Eventually though Harry seemed to work out what he wanted to say and finally spoke,
“When I die,” Harry said and Snape groaned loudly
“You will not die,”
“When I die,” Harry started again as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “split all my things between you, Hermione and the Weasley’s, but give Ron my Firebolt,”
“You will not die, I forbid it,” Snape said and Harry laughed.
“Oh do you?”
“Yes,”
“Well you know I never really listen to your rules very much,” Harry said cheekily and Snape simply sighed.
“Get some sleep Potter,” Snape said softly and Harry shuffled in closer, snuggling his head into the man’s chest.
“Professor?”
“Sleep Potter,” Snape ordered.
“Sorry, it’s just, I’m just... really glad to be here... with you,” Harry said and Snape gave a small smile and began to softly stroke Harry’s head. Harry lay his head down with a soft contented sigh and closed his eyes.
“Stay with me?” Harry said quietly.
“Always,” Snape replied and Harry smiled, leaning up to kiss the man’s jaw. He settled back down against the man and fell into a deep easy sleep.

I’ve been in bed all day sick and I managed to get the second half of this out so hurray! The first half I wrote immediately after twelve and then I did the rest today so if it doesn’t quite flow properly you know why.
Little bit of life stuff, I’ve dropped out of my course and gotten a second job so while my brain won’t be focused on assignments and such I’m still going to be absent a lot as the second job is eating up my writing time (and brain function). Most of you are used to my odd sporadic updates so I’m glad you’re all being really kind and understanding, there’s nothing worse than nagging reviews that complain about lack of updates, it’s been two weeks guys, calm your farm. None of you are like that though so I’m extremely grateful to all for your very kind words and helpful handy grammar spotting. I’m so sleep deprived it goes right over my head and sometimes takes me reading the chapter on the website to actually see the mistake.
You guys are all so nice and sweet it honestly makes my day reading all your reviews so thank you all so, so much. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and don’t worry it’s not quite the end just yet. I’ll see you next time, Nina
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A Marriage of Convenience