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Ashes of Armageddon	By : emilywaters Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 96542 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 65
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Persistence of Memory

When Severus woke up in the morning, sunlight was pouring through the window of the guest room, invading his sight even through the tightly shut eyelids. He got up and got dressed, smiling slightly, aware of the noises and movements in the house. In the kitchen, someone, presumably Harry, was cooking something. Upstairs, children's voices were heard, and Hermione was saying something very quietly, but Severus could not make out the words.

Severus walked out into the living room, and Ron stood up to greet him.

�Good morning,� Ron said, and tossed an issue of Daily Prophet to him. �Check this out.�

Severus glanced at the front page headline, that stated prominently,

Security Council Under Arrest, Conspiracy Exposed.

Severus chuckled amicably and shook his head, not even bothering to read the article.

�Breakfast is ready,� Harry announced, just as the smell of burning toast spread throughout the house. �Oh-oh.�

�I'll eat that,� Ron said quickly.

�Honestly, Ron, is there anything you won't eat?� Harry teased.

�Honestly, Harry, is there anything you can't burn?� Ron shot back, striding into the kitchen, and shoving Harry aside.

�What can I say, I'm not very domestic,� Harry said unapologetically. �I'm trying though, doesn't that count for something?�

Severus smiled contentedly as he watched the two old friends quibble and bicker lightheartedly. A few minutes later, Hermione came downstairs, accompanied by Hugo and Al.

�Good morning, everyone,� she said brightly.

�Good morning,� Severus echoed peacefully. On the bottom of the stairs, Al froze in his footsteps, as his eyes fixed on Severus' face.

�It's all right, sweetie,� Hermione said gently, squeezing Al's shoulder. �Don't be afraid. It's just friends and family here.�

Al shook his head mutely, and freed himself from her touch, his eyes never leaving Severus' face. Severus stood up and attempted to make a gracious exit into the guest room, but Al saw him move and issued a small cry and ran, bumping into Hugo and burying his face in Hugo's shoulder.

Hugo wrapped his arm around Al, cast a single apologetic glance at Severus and led Al back upstairs.

�Sorry,� Harry said gruffly, pushing past Ron and heading upstairs as well. �I'll talk to him. You go on, start without us.�

�Right,� Hermione said with a brave smile and nodded to Severus. �Come on, then. You must be famished.�

Severus nodded absently as he made his way to the kitchen, and sat down. Hugo joined them a minute later, and snatched a slice of toast from Severus' plate unapologetically.

�Mind your manners, Hugo,� Hermione scolded automatically.

�He likes it when I bother him,� Hugo dismissed quickly. �It gives him an excuse to scowl!�

Hermione shook her head resignedly, while Ron covered his mouth, shaking with laughter. Severus himself barely managed to smile. All he could think of was the look of primal terror on Al's face.

Harry entered the kitchen a few minutes later, gave Severus a tiny smile, and took a plate of food.

�I'll go feed Al,� Harry said simply. �Sorry about that. It will take some time, I suppose.�

Severus managed to rally himself and give Harry a quick nod.

Harry leaned forward and kissed Severus on the cheek. �Don't worry,� Harry said. �We'll work it out.�

�How?� Severus mused. It wasn't quite a question.

�Haven't got a clue,� Harry admitted. �But we'll think of something.�

For the next two days, Harry did some utterly Slytherin maneuvering between Severus and Al in such a way that the two of them did not need to cross paths at all. It seemed tedious and complicated, but Harry managed the task admirably, without losing any of his usual optimism.

Severus did his part by spending most of the time in the guest room, and when he wasn't with Harry, playing chess with Hugo.

�Why doesn't Al like you?� Hugo asked. �Is he like Harry used to be?�

�I don't think so,� Severus said honestly, �but I think a part of him remembers some things that happened before his time.�

�Oh,� Hugo muttered. �Why can't he just get over it?�

�Things like that take time,� Severus said softly. �Memory can be very persistent.�

Hugo nodded in agreement. �I still remember things,� Hugo whispered, looking at the chess board. �I remember my mum coming after me with your port-key to rescue me from the Jordans,� Hugo said matter-of-factly. �Mum and dad explained that it wasn't Lee's fault, but I still don't like him.�

Severus nodded absently to acknowledge Hugo's words and focused on the game.

All in all, daytime was manageable. At nights, Harry crawled into bed next to him, and only his frantic embraces betrayed his anxiety. Now and then, a sharp child's cry would echo throughout the house, and Harry would get up, and whisper, �be right back,� before walking off to wake and comfort Al.

On the third night, half-asleep, Severus heard Harry shuffle into the living room and drop to the couch with a tired sigh. Another set of footsteps was heard later, and then, Hermione's voice said gently,

�You all right, Harry?�

�Just fine,� Harry said numbly. �It'll get better.�

�Not right away though,� Hermione murmured. �Want some tea?�

�No, Hermione, I don't want any goddamn tea!� Harry snapped, and apologized instantly, �sorry, I am sorry. I suppose I am more edgy than usual.�

�It's understandable,� Hermione said. �Have you spoken to Severus yet?�

�No,� Harry muttered.

�You should talk to him,� Hermione said reasonably. �I am betting he's anxious about all of this as well.�

�I guess I am procrastinating,� Harry admitted sheepishly.

�You shouldn't,� Hermione continued persistently. �I mean, it's blindingly obvious that Severus and Al cannot live in the same household at this point, and...�

�I know!� Harry interrupted her. �I know.�

�Can I make a suggestion?� Hermione asked quietly.

�Obviously,� Harry said dryly.

�Take Severus out for lunch, and get away for a few hours, just the two of you. And talk. You'll both feel better in the end.�

�I guess,� Harry whispered.

�When you talk, you should ask Severus...�

�Forget it!� Harry hissed. �I am not going to ask him to do it. I don't have the right. It's too much to ask.�

�I don't think he'll be as upset by your request as you imagine,� Hermione's soft soothing voice echoed sadly. �He loves his home at Spinner's End. It carries good memories for him. Maybe he'll be more relieved than anything else...�

�Relieved?� Harry queried bitterly. �You know, Hermione, you act like you know everything, but sometimes you just don't get it.�

�Get some sleep, Harry,� Hermione said gently. �And please, for the love of god, do ask him. I assure you, he won't be upset. Severus is my family, too, and I know him better than you think.�

A minute later, Hermione went upstairs, and Harry entered the guest room, and climbed into bed next to Severus.

�You asleep?� Harry asked.

Severus didn't answer him, simply wrapped his arm around Harry, and held him close.

�I love you,� Harry whispered in his ear.

�I know,� Severus replied, hugging him tighter. �I know.�

Harry fell asleep almost instantly, while Severus remained wide awake. Oddly enough, he felt alone again.

He never imagined that he could ever feel so utterly alone in the house of his best friends, with the man who loved him in his arms. Still, the facts spoke louder than words, louder than reckless heroic actions, and this time, louder than love.

He knew that Harry loved him, but the fact remained, Severus and Al could not live in the same household. Harry, apparently, did not want to ask Severus to separate, and go back to Spinner's End � because Harry didn't feel he had the right to ask, whatever that meant. Severus did not intend to make him ask, either. Harry's lot was more difficult than anyone else's, and Severus had no intention of making Harry feel guilty for doing only what he had to do. Choosing between a lover and a son? That was no choice. Children's wellbeing came first.

The least he could do was make this transition easier for his lover. He did not want to wait, either. He got up quietly and pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, his lips brushing against Harry's jagged scar. Even in his sleep, Harry smiled slightly at the contact.

�I love you too,� Severus said quietly into the dark silence of the night.

He departed in absolute silence, taking the Floo to go to Harry's island.

Once Severus reached the cabin, it took him less than half an hour to pack all of his belongings, and shrink them down to a manageable size to transport them back to Spinner's End. Once that was done, he took a walk down to the meadow near the grove that was the Cockatrice habitat.

The sun was blazing high in the sky, and the soft rustling of the trees alerted him to the Cockatrice presence. He sat down in the meadow, and waited for the animals to come out. A few minutes later, one of the creatures emerged from the woods, and Severus recognized the leader of the clutch instantly. For a while, they stared at each other in guarded silence, and then, the creature came up to him, its tail twitching slightly, betraying the animal's nervousness.

The were now face to face, staring at each other intently, and then the animal hissed something out in Parseltongue.

�I don't know what you are asking,� Severus said quietly, �but if you are worried about being relocated again, please don't be. This is your home. I will never put you through the misery of being uprooted again.�

The Cockatrice must have understood him, because it came closer to him, and rested its head in Severus' lap. Severus stroked the creature's back gently and cautiously, and the creature issued a soft, cooing sound that almost sounded like purring.

�I don't know if I'll come back,� Severus continued speaking, wondering if the Cockatrice could understand him. �If I still cared about being a part of commercial production of Remusin, I would have relocated you someplace else,� Severus explained. �But to tell you the truth, I no longer give a damn. Haven't for a while, in fact. As far as I am concerned, someone else can harvest the venom, and have the glory of producing the cure for the werewolves. All I want is to make sure you have a home.�

Startled, the creature stared up at him, its almond-shaped eyes bright and focused. An indignant exclamation emerged from the creature's mouth, and the Cockatrice ran away, its wings making waves in the tall canopy of the grass.

Severus nodded a silent goodbye to the animal, and made his way to the cabin, departing back to Spinner's End without delaying further.

His old home, long-neglected and desolate, greeted him with a familiar comfort of solitude. Severus took some time to unpack, and place his books on his shelves, sorting them meticulously and diligently. Done, he wandered around aimlessly, surveying his dwelling.

Hermione was right, he thought. This was the place that he was used to, the place where he belonged, without belonging to anyone.

Nothing bad ever happened to him here.

Life happened to him here, and life was going on, against all odds.

Still, it hurt terribly, more so than he ever imagined it might. Throughout the last year, he had had fears that at some point, Harry would grow weary of the intensity of their relationship, become tired of him, and might want a separation... still, never, not in a million years, had Severus envisioned that something like this might happen because he had saved Harry's son...

Unfair, he thought with almost childish petulance, even as he scolded himself for still clinging to the ancient delusion that life somehow was supposed to be fair.

His vacant gaze fixed on the chess set, sitting on the dining room table. How many games had he played with Hugo over the last five years? How many conversations had he had with Hermione and Ron, right here, in his own home? He came to believe, that the young people who had entered his life this way, had somehow become his family.

He had been wrong.

He had no family. He had friends, people who cared for him, but at the end of the day, obligations and ties of flesh and blood always prevailed against the misguided notions of life-debts, and against the attachments born out of shared experiences of struggle and survival.

The familiar ache of self-imposed isolation rushed towards him and gripped him, and he embraced it willingly, as if it were an old friend who had been faithfully waiting for him to come home.

He dimmed the lights, and went to bed. For a long time, he remained awake, lying in the dark, with nothing present around him but his memories. Memories of pain, memories of friendships, memories of loss, memories of love, memories of loneliness � all of those coursed through him, making themselves manifest and known.

To Be Continued...

Author's Note: Two more chapters + epilogue left. We are almost there. So don't give up on the story just yet. (And for those of you who are wondering, there will be no more character deaths....)

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Ashes of Armageddon