AN: Hello to all, just a note to say that this fic parts company with cannon sometime around the 6th book, in that Dumbledore is still alive and the epilogue never happened. This is a two-part fic and I'll be uploading the second part soon.

To all my regular readers of A Brave New World, never fear, I'm still updating and I will finish it for all of you, I've just written the epilogue, so it's all in the pipeline. Watch this space. For now, hope you enjoy this new piece.

*Additional note 8th Feb - this has been reloaded with a few changes made to certain parts; proof checks and a couple of narrative points also.*


An Honourable Man

Severus Snape liked to think of himself as an honourable man. He was not a kind one, or a patient one, or even a particularly amusing one, but, he was sure that if anyone was asked, they would attest that he was at least honourable.

It was for that reason, and that reason alone, that he agreed to marry Harry Potter. The request had come from Dumbledore, as had all catastrophic requests in his life, and, as was usually the case with the old coot, he felt compelled to acquiesce to the desperate plea.

It would have had to have been desperate. No one in their right mind, especially Potter himself, thought that the marriage was a good idea; it was, however, a necessary one. The trouble had started eight months ago when a 19-year-old Potter had been captured by Death Eaters. He had been held hostage for nigh on a week before Draco Malfoy, of all people, had rescued him and returned him to Hogwarts.

Severus remembered the night the bloodied and battered boy had been placed in a bed in the Hospital Wing, drifting in and out of consciousness, as the Weasley boy and Granger girl had hovered nearby, wringing their hands frantically and waiting for news on their beloved Boy Wonder. Draco had looked ashen, his own lip split and bleeding and his normally pristine hair and robes dishevelled and dirty.

Once it had been determined that Potter wouldn't shuffle off the mortal coil any time soon, Severus had felt justified in leaving. The best thing he could do for the boy was to prepare the necessary potions he would need for his recovery and leave the coddling to those who did it best. He returned to the Hospital Wing only when he, or his concoctions were needed.

It had to be said that Potter's recovery was a slow one. The boy had suffered all manner of abuse at the hands of his tormentors, and while Severus didn't ask for any of the particulars, it was obvious that but for Draco, the boy would have died a slow and painful death.

On the few occasions he did venture up to the Hospital, he had to admit, he had been shocked by what he had seen. He had seen Potter bounce back from all manner of incidents, usually with irritatingly Gryffindor-esque alacrity, but this was different. The array of black and blue bruises that adorned his face did little to hide the pale, gauntness underneath, and he had never seen the boy's eyes so dull and devoid of life.

Stranger still, he would tolerate no one coming near him, save for Draco, whom Severus had seen him positively cling to one evening when he had silently entered the Hospital to deposit a fresh bottle of muscle relaxing potion. The blond former Slytherin had been sitting on Potter's bed, and had the boy gathered up in his arms, slowly rocking him from side to side as Potter's breathing came harsh and erratic.

"Ssh," Draco had soothed, "just breathe. I'm here, it's ok, I'm here."

"You won't leave?" had come the voice, which sounded absolutely terrified.

"I promised you I wouldn't. Try to get some sleep, I'll be right here."

Eventually, Potter had let Weasley and Granger into the Hospital, much to their relief, but he would still let no one else near him, and seemed to shy away from any attempt at physical contact that was made by anyone apart from his saviour.

Still, all in all, he had come through the whole thing alive, which was more than most could boast, Severus had thought at the time. It seemed he still had a spark of resilience about him too, for merely two months later, the boy finally killed Voldemort. It all happened rather anti-climatically in the end, which, when all was said and done, Severus wasn't going to complain about.

After the many years of planning and training, the plots that had formed and been summarily cast aside, all it took was a simple killing curse. Well, perhaps simple wasn't the right word. The force of the curse Potter had cast had been truly breath-taking; it hadn't just killed Voldemort, it had annihilated him, destroyed him from the inside out, turning his bones to dust and his organs to jelly. When it was finally over there wasn't enough of the Dark Lord left to put in an envelope.

Severus had wondered if Potter's experience with the Death Eaters had had something to do with it. He had never doubted that the boy had power, he had witnessed it on enough occasions, and even he had to grudgingly admit that when he put his mind to something, Potter could accomplish more than most magic folk. However, he had never believed that the boy possessed enough pure hatred in his heart to truly use the killing curse to its full effect, but the Potter that had emerged from his captivity had been changed, had come through the ordeal with enough hate in his heart to kill not only Voldemort, but ten or so of his most loyal Death Eaters.

Now though, almost six months after the fall of the biggest calamity to ever face the wizarding world, there was a problem. It seemed that during his tenure as a guest of the Death Eaters, Potter had been subjected to a blood magic ritual, which had apparently been part of some greater plan that had been interrupted with Draco's rescuing of the boy. The details of the exact ritual were hazy, but as far as Severus could tell, it had been intended to bind Potter to the Death Eaters, something that would have been made easier as Potter had been under 21 at the time.

Now, despite the fact that Voldemort was dead and most of the Death Eaters were either dead also or rounded up in Azkaban, there were a few still free, in exile, who had been attempting to exploit the bastardised link, to bind Potter to them. It was only by the grace of Merlin that Severus, as a former Death Eater, was not only still alive but was probably the only one who didn't wish to see Potter dead…on a good day.

The magic that had been involved in creating and maintaining the Dark Mark meant that all the Death Eaters were connected, and something as potent as blood magic lingered within that connection. As Dumbledore had explained to a rather horrified Severus, marrying Potter, through a legal and magical ceremony, would exploit the blood magic through Severus' own Dark Mark and render any other Death Eater's claim null and void.

So it was that in two days' time, Severus Snape, former Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, would marry Harry bloody Potter, everyone's darling saviour. It was the reason that he was walking through Knockturn Alley earlier than his usual appointed time, feeling royally pissed off about the task he had to complete.

He continued walking until he reached the end of the alleyway he was in, stopping in front of a blood-red door and knocking. It was answered by the usual angular-faced man who always answered it, who stepped aside to let Severus in, saying,

"Why, Professor Snape, we weren't expecting you today."

"No, I am not scheduled to be here, nevertheless, could I have a moment to speak with Julius?"

"You're in luck," the angular man said with a cat-like smile, "he's in between clients at the moment. Go straight up."

Severus inclined his head at the man and turned to his right to ascend the narrow, rickety stairs. He walked along the corridor, smirking slightly at the noises that came from behind the doors he passed, then stopped in front of door marked number 5. He knocked and was kept only a moment before the door creaked open and a tall, lithe man with dark blond hair stood looking at him with a smile.

"Severus, what a surprise. You're not due today are you?

"No Julius, I'm not. I needed to speak with you."

Fair eyebrows rose in slight surprise but Julius stepped aside nevertheless and let Severus into the familiar bedroom. From the rumpled sheets and faint lingering smell in the air, Severus guessed that he had only just missed Julius' last client.

"Drink?" Julius asked, throwing a dressing gown on and disobligingly covering up the view that Severus had been admiring.

"No thank you, I shan't keep you," Severus replied, taking a seat.

"Well," said Julius, throwing himself down on the chaise-longue with practiced effortlessness, "what's this all about?"

Severus crossed one leg over the other and brushed the imagined creases from his robes. "I'm afraid, Julius, I've come to tell you that our arrangement is over."

"You're joking," Julius replied, halting the hand that was about to place a cigarette between his lips.

"I'm afraid I'm not. I'm getting married."

Julius let out a heartfelt bark of laughter and let his hand continue its path to put the cigarette in his mouth. He lit it and took a long drag, letting a billow of smoke pass artfully from his lips before he looked at Severus with a teasing smile and said, "You are joking."

"No, I am not. In two days I shall be marrying Harry Potter."

Julius blinked at him for a moment, curls of smoke permeating around his head as he held his cigarette in stasis. "What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?"

"I can't say it any plainer."

"Well what on earth do you want to go and do a stupid thing like that for? I didn't even know you were seeing the boy."

It was Severus' turn to let out a bark of a laughter. "I'm not, nor ever have been. It's merely a formality, a request that has been made of me that I intend to fulfil."

"But why on earth should that stop you from coming to see me?" Julius asked, his lip forming a slight pout. "You do realise of course that over half of my clients are married, and somehow I can't see you being the faithful type."

Severus smirked. "No, indeed," he said, "but unfortunately this particular marriage contract comes with a fidelity clause. Neither of us can seek other sexual partners until the contract ends when the boy turns 21."

"And when exactly might that be?"

"A little under sixteen months," Severus said, rolling his eyes.

Julius scoffed and took another deep drag of his cigarette. "So what? You intend to take a vow of celibacy for the duration of your marriage?"

A slow smile crept over Severus' lips. "Oh no Julius, I wouldn't say that."

Fair eyebrows rose once again. "Oh? You intend to claim your conjugal rights on the boy then?"

"If he, or anyone else, thinks that I am going to go without sins of the flesh for sixteen months, they are sorely mistaken."

"And does the boy even swing that way?" asked Julius with an amused smile.

"Who knows? It hardly matters. Needs must and all that."

"Severus, you old dog. He is rather attractive I suppose, in a waifish sort of way. There's something of the Dickensian tragic orphan about him. He'd earn a hell of a living if he came to work here, you'd be amazed how many of our clients ask for just such a look."

"Well there's no accounting for taste."

"You don't find him attractive?"

"Not particularly. I can't say I've given it much thought."

Julius knocked the ask from his cigarette into a nearby ashtray and looked at Severus closely. "And do you think he'll keep you satisfied?" he asked, his voice low. "Do you think he'll know all the little tricks that can make you scream, do you think he'll let you use his body the way you use mine?"

Julius stubbed his cigarette out and rose from his chaise-longue, walking slowly over to Severus' chair. He stood for a moment before sinking to his knees and placing his hands on Severus' knees. "Do you think that mouth of his will make you beg, make you squirm the way mine does? Do you think the little Boy Wonder will have any idea how to please his new husband?"

Severus raised an eyebrow at the handsome man on his knees in front of him. "What do you say to giving me a wedding present?" he asked as Julius began to run his long, talented fingers up Severus' thighs.

"I think, Professor, that that could be arranged."


Severus arrived back home a little after midday, his mood worse than it had been when he had left that morning. Breaking his arrangement with Julius was perhaps the worst repercussion from his marriage to Potter. He had been visiting the man for several years now and to say that the man provided a scratch for an itch was something of an understatement. He was one of the most skilled sex workers Severus had ever had the pleasure of meeting. What Julius didn't know about pleasures of the flesh wasn't worth knowing.

And now, to make matters worse, after having to end the arrangement that had kept him satisfied for so long, he had to sit and wait for Potter to turn up to deposit his things and to put the final touches to the marriage contract. Of course Potter was going to live with him, they could hardly be married and maintain separate residences, and Severus himself had no intention whatsoever of setting up home in Grimmauld Place.

He had only been living in his present abode for a few months. It was the old Prince estate, if estate it could be so called. It had been left to a cousin who had passed away a year or so ago, and no one was more surprised than Severus to find that very cousin had bequeathed the estate to him. It was modest, as old family properties went, but Severus rather preferred it that way. There were six en-suite bedrooms, a large sitting room, study, dining room, library, a cellar that he used for his potions, and a very serviceable kitchen.

The house sat in roughly five acres of land. There was a landscaped garden immediately surrounding the property that made up a little over an acre, then beyond the land had been given up to pasture. In the garden were a couple of greenhouses that Severus was intending to put to use to grow several ingredients that he needed for his potions, and a rather sweet summerhouse that afforded a good view of the land beyond.

His cousin, it seemed, hadn't been too fastidious in matters of housekeeping or building maintenance, and although the place was sound, it needed attention, and since the end of the war Severus had made it his mission to restore it to its former glory. Time was on his hands after all. He had resigned his position at Hogwarts and had set himself up as a potion maker upon demand. His inheritance from the Prince estate, though greatly diminished from what it had been, gave him a greater monthly allowance than his teaching salary had, and, coupled with the income he made from his orders, he found himself rather comfortable.

He removed his outer robe and hung it in the porch, moving through to the sitting room. A quick glance at his watch told him that he had only a few minutes before Potter would be arriving. He moved over to his drinks cabinet and poured himself a finger of brandy. Brandy was acceptable at this time of the day, he told himself.

He took a deep breath and sipped at his drink, reminding himself to thank McGonagall for the tip on choosing that particular bottle, and went to stand at the French windows that looked out onto the gardens. It was early March and the trees were beginning to put out their blossom. Although the outside areas undoubtedly needed attention, they were still beautiful in their current state.

The doorbell sounded, and Severus sighed, chucking back the rest of his brandy in resignation. He straightened his robes and moved back out into the porch, steeling himself before he opened the door. He was surprised to find not only Potter, but Draco too, who stood a little behind Potter, smiling politely.

"Come in," Severus said gruffly, stepping aside to let them do so.

He closed the door behind them then gestured for them to go through to the sitting room, following after them. They sat side by side on the sofa, and Severus took a seat in the armchair opposite them, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at Potter. He was still pale and seemed to carry himself stiffly, sitting closely to Draco as though he thought the boy would offer him protection.

"I wanted to say," Potter said, surprising him. His voice was soft and quiet, as though he were afraid of speaking too loudly. "I am so very grateful to you for agreeing to this. I know that it's the last thing in the world you would want, but I really do appreciate what you're doing for me."

Severus laid one arm on the armrest of his chair and resisted the urge to tap his fingers. "There is no need to thank me, Mr Potter. It must be done, that is all there is to say on the subject."

Potter nodded, his jaw clenched, and returned his attention to the floor. He was thinner than Severus could remember him being, although the boy had never really gained the requisite amount of meat on his bones, and it seemed to Severus as though the boy was doing his best to make himself as small as possible.

"Harry has his things with him," Draco said, his voice efficient and practical. "Perhaps after the contract has been signed you could show him to his room and get him acquainted with the house?"

"Of course," Severus said. "Has anything been added to the contract since last week?"

Draco fished a shrunken folder from his robes and re-sized it with his wand, opening it up and withdrawing the marriage contract. "No, no it's all there as agreed. You and Harry will continue to have separate accounts at Gringotts, but, upon Harry's insistence," Draco said, glancing at the boy next to him, "your name has been added to Harry's and he has granted you access to the funds therein. I trust you won't abuse them."

Severus gave Draco a withering look, but it seemed to have no effect. The blond continued, "The contract will end upon Harry's 21st birthday in sixteen months' time, and until that time the two of you will be bound by a fidelity charm; should either of you engage in sexual relations with another party, the contract will be declared null and void and cannot be renewed."

Severus noted that a blush was creeping up Potter's neck. Wonderful, he thought with an internal sneer, he was being saddled with a virgin.

"Harry will live here for the entirety of the marriage and has arranged that a sum of money be transferred to your account monthly for his…keep," Draco said, obviously finding the matter distasteful, a fact that he hadn't kept hidden a week ago when they had first drawn up the contract and Potter had insisted, quietly but firmly, that he would pay his way. Severus had already decided exactly what that money would be used for; he wouldn't spend a penny of it, he would save it all up and when the ridiculous contract was dissolved, he would take it all and spend it on the most debauched, pleasurable fortnight his brain could devise with Julius.

"Whatever money is made by either party will be retained by the individual and isn't to be considered property of the marriage. Both parties are allowed to seek whatever form of employment they chose, providing it exists within the parameters of the law," he added, and Potter managed a small smile. "Harry will also be bringing Kreacher, the house elf currently occupying Grimmauld Place, with him in order to serve you both here. Upon dissolvement of the marriage, Harry will move back to his own property, and will have no claim upon the Prince estate, as you Severus will have no claim on the Potter or Black estates."

Draco looked up and Severus rather thought that the boy needed a small pair of spectacles he could pull down his nose to complete the look of an efficient legal clerk. "That's really all there is to it, the legal side of things is somewhat secondary to the magical bonding that will take place in order to override the blood magic the Death Eaters used."

"And when, Draco," Severus said smoothly, "did you become so adept at the law?"

Draco stuck his chin out defiantly, and Severus was reminded of the child he had once known. "This has been drawn up by a perfectly reputable legal firm. I'm only here to support Harry and to bear witness to the signing of the contract. However," the boy said, a fair amount of steel entering his voice, "Hermione and I both have intentions of attending law school in September. We'd like to be able to make some difference to this world that we fought so hard for."

"Miss Granger?" Severus asked. "I didn't realise the two of you were…"

This induced a snort from Potter and green eyes met his as the boy said with a faint smile, "Oh they're not sir. It's true though that Draco has formed something of an attachment to one third of the Golden Trio, but it's to neither me nor Hermione."

Severus turned his attention back to Draco, unable to hide his surprise. "Weasley?" he asked, receiving a smirk in response.

"I thought you knew we were living together."

"I had heard…something of that kind, but I hadn't realised…"

"Well there you go, you learn something new every day. Now, if I could get you to sign where I've marked, Harry's already signed his part."

Draco handed him the contract and a muggle pen over to him and he gave the document a cursory glance before signing his name at the bottom of the first and second page.

"Good, now that that's done, perhaps you can give Harry a bit of tour and get his things settled?" Draco said, shrinking the documentation and putting it back in his pocket.

Severus couldn't say that he was particularly thrilled at the imperious tone Draco had adopted, nor could he say he fully understood the obviously protective stance the boy was using with regards to Potter, but he had had a trying enough day and was in no mood to argue.

"Very well," he said, rising from his seat. "Mr Potter, if you would be so good as to follow me."

Severus swept out of the living room and up the stairs, aware that Potter was behind him, and carried on along the landing until he came the last room on the left. He opened the door and indicated for Potter to step inside.

"This will be your room. There is a bathroom attached through that door there. I trust this will serve your purpose."

It was a nice room, Severus supposed. The furniture, thankfully, had been in fairly good nick throughout the house and he had only had to replace a few items so far. There were others that he was itching to throw out, merely because they offended his taste, but this room, to his mind at least, was rather pleasant.

He watched as Potter moved around the room and examined the pieces of furniture – a sturdy four-poster bed, an armoire, a writing desk and chair, a chest of drawers and a little fireplace with two armchairs placed in front of it.

The boy turned around to face him, a gentle smile on his lips. "This is lovely, really," he said softly. He moved over to window and looked out at the grounds, the smile still playing around his mouth. "How beautiful," he said quietly. He turned back around to face Severus and said, "You haven't been here long I understand?"

"A few months," Severus replied. "There are parts of the estate that need some attention."

Potter nodded. "Do you like it though? I mean, do you like living here?" he asked.

Severus shrugged. "It serves well enough."

There was a pause for a moment before Potter cleared his throat and said with obvious embarrassment, "This isn't your bedroom then I take it?"

Severus looked him as though expecting the punchline. "Of course not," he replied. "We won't be sharing sleeping quarters for Heaven's sake. Just because we'll be married doesn't mean that we need share a bed."

"Of course." Potter turned back to the window and took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking slightly as he did so. Severus wondered when the last time was the boy ate a full meal. He was sure he had never been so thin when he was at Hogwarts, and there was a frailty about him that had never existed before.

He seemed to shake himself and pulled himself away from the window, walking towards Severus and fishing for something in his robes as he did so. He extracted a small box and held it out to Severus, saying, "Just a…a thank you for what you're doing for me. If you don't like them then don't worry, but…well…here you go anyway."

Severus took the offered box and opened it to find a pair of silver and emerald cufflinks, both in the shape of small serpents. As he watched, the serpents twisted slightly, altering their coils and settling back in the box.

"If you don't like them you can just stick them in a drawer and let them gather dust but I wanted to…I wanted you have something as a token…"

They were not what Severus would have chosen for himself, but he could see that they wouldn't have come cheap. "Thank you, Mr Potter. I'm afraid I have no such gift for you."

Potter waved his hand dismissively and said, "I didn't expect it. After all, you're the one doing me the favour. If hadn't have been so stupid as to let myself be captured in the first place, if they hadn't managed…" he trailed off and a deep frown settled between the ridge of his brows. The green eyes became unfocused and a tremble went through the thin body. "But it's too late for that now," he whispered. "It did happen, and I'm only grateful that you're here to save me…again."

He appeared to shake himself and after a deep breath he said in a firmer voice, "Would you show me the grounds? I'd like to get a better look at them."


There it was, his signature drying slowly on the bottom of the marriage certificate. It was official, he was now married to Harry Potter, and would be for the next sixteen months. Sometimes, he wondered if it was possible for his life to be more farcical.

Potter himself was standing with standing with Weasley, Granger and Draco, doing his best to appear stoic and calm, although Severus had noted the shake of his hand when he had signed the certificate. Potter said something to Granger and she smiled, moving with him to the drinks table and swiping them both a glass of champagne, joining Dumbledore.

They were all at the Prince estate, as it was deemed as suitable a place as any to hold the ceremony, and the legal matters had all been dealt with, there was just the matter of magical binding that would be done in private when everyone had left and they could cement the bond with their wedding night.

Wedding night, Severus sneered to himself, what a joke. He couldn't say that he was in any way attracted to the skinny whelp, but he supposed Julius had been right when he said there was a waif-like quality to him, which, he supposed, could be a tad appealing in the right light. Still, he was hardly holding out much hope for an earth-shattering night of passion with his new husband, indeed, he was determined it would be as clinical as possible.

He watched as Draco wound an arm around Weasley's waist and nuzzled his nose into the boy's neck. Well, it hadn't been a joke after all; there they were, large as life and engaging in sickening displays of affection. Weasley smiled and pulled Draco closer, his height enabling him to drop a kiss to the top of the blond head beneath his chin. Severus' eyes flickered back to the drinks table and he saw Potter standing there, watching the two boys with something of a wistful expression.

Interesting, thought Severus. He wondered which of the boys the longing look was aimed at and thought that the boy was rather wasting his time; even to his cynical, bitter perspective it was obvious that Draco and Weasley were besotted with one another.

Draco pressed a kiss to Weasley's lips and whispered something, then disentangled himself from the redhead's gangly arms and walked across the room to join him.

"Draco," Severus acknowledged him.

"Severus," the blond replied. "We'll be going soon, leave you and Harry to it. I just wanted…" Draco trailed off with a frown, turning his head to glance back at Harry. "You will…you will take care of him, won't you?" he asked, facing Severus again with a look so serious that Severus nearly laughed.

"He's a grown man, he can take care of himself."

"I didn't mean that," Draco said tersely. "He's not…he's not like he used to be, and you're hardly the nicest man on the planet. Just…just promise me that you'll treat him kindly."

Severus raised one dark eyebrow and said, "Since when did you become his fiercest protector?"

Draco's expression darkened and he straightened his shoulders. "Since I dragged him back to Hogwarts half dead," he ground out. "I don't expect you to understand, but I care about Harry and I can't leave him here without knowing that he'll be ok. I'm not asking you to be someone you're not and turn into Molly Weasley all of a sudden, but please, go gently with him."

"I have no intention of treating the boy any other way than I've always done."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Draco returned sharply. "Please Severus, he isn't that boy that sat in your Potions lessons and spoke back to you with barbed comments and sarcastic one-liners. He needs some kindness, he can't live in this house with you for the next sixteen months with you being a bastard to him."

"Draco I really don't care for your tone, nor for this unsolicited lecture. This marriage," he said, his lip curling on the word, "is intended to keep Potter out of harm's way until he reaches 21. All we need to do is exist relatively peacefully until that happens. As long as he keeps out of my way and I keep out of his, all will be fine."

"As you're married to him, would it kill you to call him Harry?" Draco shook his head and looked at Severus sadly, saying, "You know what? I tried. I really don't know why I bothered. I trust you have no objections to me visiting Harry while he's living here?"

"No," Severus said stiffly. "You will be welcome."

"And Ron and Hermione? He needs his friends, please don't shut them out."

Severus felt the muscle in his jaw twitch and he was awfully close to hexing the blond menace who felt he could talk him in such a way. "This will be the boy's home, of course they can come."

Draco nodded. "Good. Don't worry, I'm sure they'll make sure that you're out before they come. I'll be seeing you then. Just…think about what I said."

Draco turned on his heel and walked back to Weasley, then they both joined Potter and Granger at the drinks table. Weasley and Granger took turns in hugging the boy, all a bit dramatic for Severus' liking, then moved over the floo. Draco also hugged Potter then stood with hands on the boy's shoulders, saying something quiet and no doubt encouraging. Potter smiled and nodded then Draco leant forward to place a kiss to his forehead.

Severus cast a look to Weasley, who was still waiting at the fireplace, but he seemed not the slightest bit perturbed at the kiss. Indeed he was looking at Draco with no small measure of pride and affection and as Draco joined him, the smile in his eyes intensified. All three of them disappeared through the floo, leaving him alone with Potter and Dumbledore, the notary who had overseen the legal matters having left as soon as the certificate had been signed.

"You're wearing the cufflinks," Potter said, as he came to stand beside him. He seemed pleased by the fact.

"Yes, they went rather well with the robes."

"You look very smart, those robes are lovely."

Good God, the boy was trying to compliment him. "Thank you," he said, hoping the boy wasn't expecting a similar sentiment; he looked as though he had borrowed his robes from a man several sizes bigger than him, and his face was pale and rather haggard.

"Well my boys, if you're ready we can begin the magical binding," said Dumbledore, coming to join them.

If it was possible, Potter paled further, but he stood firm and nodded, as did Severus.

"Very well then, take each other's left hand," Dumbledore instructed, and Severus did so, feeling Potter's hand shake in his own. Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped their wrists, where the largest vein was visible and murmured softly, "Ligaveris Sanguinem Amet."

A thread of purple sprouted from the end of Dumbledore's wand and wrapped itself around their joined hands and Severus felt the pulse in his wrist throb uncomfortably. A tingling sensation travelled up his arm, followed by a feeling of intense heat then harsh coldness.

"Tempus Nexum," Dumbledore said firmly, followed by, "Sanguinem Nuptias," and the purple jet vanished with a flash. When he looked down at his hand there was a gold wedding band on his ring finger, its twin sitting on Potter's.

The boy looked at it in wonder, then, for some unknown reason, smiled. He looked up at Severus and said quietly, "I didn't think we'd be having wedding rings. It's…sort of nice."

Severus raised an eyebrow but said nothing, thinking privately that the boy was an idiot.

"Well," said Dumbledore, smiling benignly at them both, "I should leave you both in peace."

Oh yes, thought Severus, do leave us to enjoy our much-anticipated wedding night unhindered.

"Thank you for everything you've done, sir," Potter said quietly, extending his hand, which Severus noticed was shaking once again, to Dumbledore.

"No need for thanks, Harry, you know that," Dumbledore replied, taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake. "Severus my boy," the man said, turning his attention to him, "I hope to see you soon. I would love it if you would accept my offer to come for tea at Hogwarts one of these days."

"I shall Albus, when I next find myself free." Which you can bet won't be any time soon, he mentally added.

The old coot twinkled at him and, not for the first time, Severus found himself glad that he was no longer indebted to the infuriating man. He headed over to the floo and grabbed a pinch of powder before smiling back at them both then disappearing into the flames.

Well, that was it, he was finally alone with Potter. The room seemed to echo all of sudden in a way that he hadn't noticed before. Potter moved across to the French windows and stood holding his glass of untouched champagne, looking out onto the gardens. There was something passive about his features, something that was foreign to Severus. He was used to the boy looking impudent or defiant, even amused sometimes he supposed, but this rather blank facial expression that betrayed nothing of what might lie below was unknown to Severus.

"Such a beautiful spot," Potter said quietly, and Severus didn't know if he was being addressed or not. "It's so peaceful here, as though the rest of the world doesn't exist. You must love it here," he said, turning back around to face Severus.

"It serves a purpose," Severus said, surprised when the boy's face fell slightly.

"You don't like it here?" he asked.

"As I said, it serves a purpose."

"I can help with doing it up," Potter said, his face brightening slightly. "I'm surprisingly good at DIY, and I love working in gardens."

"Perhaps," Severus said noncommittally, not entirely sure he wanted Potter involved in the restoration of his home. "Anyway Mr Potter, we should see to it that the bond is finalised."

Potter's already pale face lost the rest of its colour and Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Dear Merlin, he was hardly looking forward to it himself, but sex was sex at the end of the day, there was no need to be quite so prissy about it.

"I shall come to your room in an hour and we can get on it with it."

Potter said nothing, merely nodded and lowered his eyes to the floor. Merlin save me from blushing ingenues, Severus thought as he swept out of the room, intending to immerse himself in a hot bath with a glass of 20-year-old whisky before he had to succumb to his fate.

He did just that, indulging in the wonderfully large bathtub that his own bathroom boasted, and one glass of excellent whisky ended up being three. By the time he made it out of the tub and across the hall to Potter's room, he was comfortably fuzzy-brained and feeling more amused about the task at hand than he would have imagined his previous annoyance would have allowed.

He knocked swiftly, then entered the room to find Potter sitting at the window seat, the room only illuminated by the soft glow of a couple of candles. Severus held back a snort at that, hardly believing that the boy was hoping for this to be a romantic endeavour. Potter stood, his hands twisting in front of him, then moved a little closer to him.

"Potter, before we…I must ask – are you a virgin?"

Something strange flitted across Potter's face and he blinked rapidly before looking down and giving a quick shake of his head. "I…no…I'm not a virgin," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This…this won't be my first time."

Well that was something of a surprise. From the blushes and lowered eyes, Severus would have put good money on Potter being an untouched little innocent.

"Good," he said brusquely. "That makes things easier."

Potter nodded then moved the rest of the way across the room to stand in front of him. For someone who had done this before, the boy was a bag of nerves. Severus could see that he was shaking slightly but there was a resolved set to his jaw and he could see a little of the old Potter resilience poking through.

"Shall we…shall we kiss?" Potter asked quietly.

Severus raised an eyebrow and said, "I hardly think that necessary. Get into bed and get your clothes off."

Potter flinched slightly but nodded and moved to the bed, tugging his robes off over his head and moving to undo his buttons, halting after the first couple and turning to Severus, who was removing his cufflinks and placing them on the writing desk.

"I…I'm a little…I mean…could we do this in the dark? It's not you," he added quickly, "I'm just a little…aware of myself."

Good God, Severus groaned internally, how wet could the boy be? "Fine," he said tersely. "Undress and get into bed, I promise I won't look," he added, not quite able to disguise his sneer.

He turned to continue his own undressing, hearing the boy scuffle around behind him, eventually hearing the slight creak of the bedsprings as Potter climbed in. Severus made it down to his underwear then blew out the candles, grateful that it was a bright enough night to enable him to move over to the bed with a little guiding light to aid him. He snaked out of his pants and kicked them slightly to the side before climbing into the bed next to the trembling form beside him.

"Turn on your side," he instructed, not caring to do this face to face with the boy. He reached for his wand, damned if he was going to prepare Potter manually; he barely condescended to do so with Julius, a man who guaranteed him untold pleasure, he wasn't going to bother himself over the shaking boy who was so inexperienced that Severus suddenly felt very sorry for himself and the next sixteen months of such encounters.

"I'm going to use a spell to prepare you," he said dispassionately, immediately after murmuring the spell and hearing Potter's breath hitch as he did so. He pointed his wand at his own palm and muttered the spell again, his hand suddenly coated in slippery lubricant. He slicked it over himself, bringing himself to hardness, as Merlin knew the situation itself hadn't.

When he was sufficiently prepared, and his own erection was coated liberally, he scooted over in the bed until his chest was pressed against Potter's back. He reached down and lifted the boy's leg up and out of the way, reaching his hand until he found its destination. He guided his erection towards the boy's entrance and without a warning, began to thrust inside. He immediately felt Potter's body tense and he said with a growl, "Merlin's teeth Potter, if you do that then I'll never get inside you and we'll be here all bloody night."

"Sorry," Potter said, his voice breathy and shaky. "I…I am trying…I promise."

Severus rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Potter's shoulder to brace himself then tried to push forward again. There was less resistance this time but Potter's body was as taut as a piano string and Severus wondered if perhaps the boy had been lying when he said he wasn't a virgin in a case of misplaced bravado. Severus found he didn't really care. He'd make sure he was careful, he was no monster, but if the boy wanted to lie to him then that was his problem.

He thrust forward a little more and slowly sheathed himself inside the boy's body. There was something to be said for nerves, Severus thought as found himself fully embedded; the body around his now fully-hard erection was deliciously tight, and as he began to move in and out in slow, precise thrusts he thought that perhaps he might be able to put up with it, for a little while at least.

He moved a little faster, pulling out further each time and fully pushing in all the way to the hilt, feeling his pleasure grow each time. Potter's breathing was still ragged and the shoulder beneath his hand trembled with each thrust. He continued thrusting, feeling himself creep closer toward the edge as he did so, knowing he was probably being a little too forceful but wanting only to find his release. He came hard and with a shudder through his body, digging his fingers into Potter's shoulder.

He allowed his breathing to even out as he came back to himself and slowly slipped from the boy's body, muttering a quick Scourgify as he do so. He thought he had better see to his new husband and so snaked a hand over the boy's hip only to find that the boy wasn't even hard.

"It's fine," came the muffled voice, followed by a noise that sounded suspiciously like the boy trying to subdue a sob.

"Did I hurt you?" Severus asked.

"No, no it's fine. I just…it's nothing…honestly."

"Very well," Severus said, rolling away and out of the bed, retrieving his pants and sliding back into them. He moved over to the writing desk and picked up the rest of his clothing, moving to the door and turning back to face the bed as he stood with his hand on the door handle. He could see Potter still lying on his side, illuminated slightly by the sliver of moonlight coming in through the window, his knees brought up to his chest.

"As this ridiculous arrangement means I shall be able to seek no other gratification for the next sixteen months, I trust you have no objection to my repeating that encounter when I might feel the need?"

There was silence for a moment, followed by a harsh intake of breath, then a quiet voice, saying, "Of course. It's the least I can do, given the circumstances."

"Good. I'll bid you goodnight then," Severus said, then turned and let himself out. Sixteen months of the most basic sex of his life with the most uninspiring bed partner, how was he going to cope?


Potter was already up when he made it down for breakfast. He was sitting at the table in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea, staring down into the delicate china cup, dark circles under his eyes and an unhealthy pallor to his skin. Nevertheless, he looked up when Severus entered and offered him a smile, saying,

"Good morning. I didn't know whether or not to ask Kreacher to make you any breakfast, I thought you'd prefer to do so."

"You're not eating?" Severus asked as he took a seat opposite Potter.

Potter shrugged. "I don't really eat breakfast," he said, resuming his earlier action of staring at his tea.

You don't eat much of anything by the look of you, Severus thought. He turned to the wizened old house elf who was awaiting instruction from him and said, "Two eggs, poached, on brown bread."

Kreacher nodded and set about his task and Potter looked back up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I was going to order that for you. I can remember you having it all the time for breakfast back at school. I didn't want to assume though, we don't always keep old habits do we?"

The question hadn't really seemed aimed at him, so Severus decided not to answer it. He turned his attention instead to the stack of newspapers next to his elbow and picked up the first from the pile, his eyes rolling of their own accord when he saw that the front-page news was his marriage to Potter. He looked across to the boy, who shrugged and said,

"I told them. Seemed best to pre-empt any nonsense stories that might abound. Seamus (you remember Seamus?) works for the Prophet now, so I took him for a pint a couple of days ago and gave him the scoop. I…made out like we'd been together for a while and just wanted to make it official, just a quiet, private affair. I'm sure the real story wouldn't be so palatable…nor so prudent as to publish in that rag."

Well, that was an unexpected bit of finesse from the boy. It was a sensible course of action and of course would send a message once and for all to any existing Death Eaters who might have been tempted to try and exploit the blood magic bond.

"Sound logic," Severus said, casting the paper aside and exchanging it in favour of the local muggle one that was delivered every morning.

Potter nodded and sipped at his tea, pulling a face when he realised it had gone cold. He put it to one side and settled instead for staring down at the table, his hands in his lap, still apart from a slight tremor that kept rippling through him.

Severus' eggs were placed in front of him, and after pouring himself a cup of coffee from the freshly-brewed cafetiere in front of him, he set about eating his breakfast, which he had to admit, was very well done. He glanced up every now and again between mouthfuls to see Potter flexing the fingers of his left hand, frowning down at it as it shook when he straightened his fingers out.

"What's the matter with your hand?" Severus asked, and Potter looked up quickly, as though surprised at being spoken to.

"Oh…nothing," he said softly. "It's just…there's some residual nerve damage from…before."

"Are you having treatment for it?"

Potter shook his head. "I have no desire to spend any more time in the hospital than is strictly necessary. Besides, they've told me there's little they can do." He looked down at the shaking hand that was resting on the table. "It hardly matters," he said softly, "it's just a tremor."

Severus was about to comment that he thought the boy foolish for not seeking proper treatment, and that he should damn well get over whatever stupid fear of hospitals he might harbour, when Potter got to his feet and said,

"I thought I might get to know my way around a bit better today, spend some time in the garden and the surrounding area, I hope that's ok with you?"

"Of course. I shall be spending the day brewing," said Severus, gratified to know that Potter would not require him to provide an endless source of entertainment for him.

"Anything interesting?" Potter asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Not to you I'm sure," Severus replied, and the boy's cheeks coloured slightly.

"No, no I'm sure you're right. No talent for Potions, as you're well aware. Well, I hope you have a good day anyway, I'll see you later," said Potter, stopping by his chair and leaning down to brush a kiss against Severus' cheek.

Severus resisted the urge to curse the damned boy and instead settled for turning to face him with his most withering look, saying, "Just because we're married doesn't mean that we have to lower ourselves to such ridiculous displays of sentimentality."

Potter's eyes went back to the floor and he nodded, saying quietly, "Of course, I'm sorry."

He left the room without looking back and Severus shook his head. Really, he was married to the most insipid creature.


Severus had expected that Potter would be a noisy, inconsiderate, oafish housemate. As it was, the boy was so quiet and cautious, he sometimes had to check that he was still in the house. He moved about the place like a wraith, and there had been several times that Severus had nearly jumped out of his skin when he'd turned around to find that Potter had silently entered the room he was in.

He seemed to spend a great deal of his time outdoors, either in the garden or walking the many footpaths that were dotted around the Somerset countryside the estate nestled in. He left the house every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, though Severus didn't really trouble himself to find out where his husband was going; he didn't really care so long as he wasn't bothered about it.

They spent mealtimes together, though often by accident rather than design. Kreacher cooked for them both, and both seemed to naturally gravitate towards the kitchen at the same time, although why Potter bothered, Severus had no idea. He picked at his food and had never yet finished an entire meal, despite the fact that Kreacher was in fact a surprisingly adept cook.

Severus had finished just such a meal, alone this time as his brewing had taken longer than usual, when he decided to spend the rest of the evening in the library, ensconced in whatever book took his fancy. He liked the library. It was a decent-sized room, well stocked with all manner of reading material, cosy and warm. There was a fire at one end of the room, in front of which was placed a somewhat narrow, but nevertheless very comfortable, sofa.

It was in this sofa that Severus found Potter curled up when he entered the room. He felt a tinge of annoyance; he had wanted the room to himself, not to share it with his irritating former student. The boy looked up as the door opened and offered him a gentle smile, saying,

"Do you mind me sitting here? It's just such a cosy place to curl up and read and the weather's so horrible out there tonight."

"No, I don't mind," Severus said, rather magnanimously he thought. He moved over to the furthest line of shelving and perused the spines of the books, deciding upon a familiar theoretical text on the combustive properties in certain potions.

He moved to sit on the sofa next to Potter and crossed his legs at the ankles, propping the book open in his lap. It was a cosy room, there was no denying that, and the heavy patter of rain against the windows made for a pleasant backdrop. Again, he was surprised at how quiet his companion was; there was no sound from him save for the turning of the pages of his book and the occasional rustle of clothing as he shifted his position.

Eventually, Severus decided to sneak a glance across at the boy, just to see if he could see the tell-tale twitches the boy used to exhibit in his class when he was doing his best to behave like a rational human being. He was surprised to find that instead of looking as though he might explode from the effort of controlling his irritating behaviour, Potter was simply gazing into the fire, his head tilted downwards slightly, his dull eyes unfocused.

The hand in his lap was twitching and there was a slight tremor running through his whole body as he sat there, although whether the boy was aware of it or not, Severus couldn't tell. He seemed to be in another world, his mind somewhere else far beyond the pleasant room and the cheerful fire that he seemed to be fixated on.

It was strange to see this version of Potter, so different from the person who had sat in Severus' classroom only a couple of years ago. That boy had laughed and shouted, sulked, argued, teased and badgered; this boy was a pale imitation. This boy had pale skin and dark circles under his eyes, this boy said everything so softly that sometimes it was just above whisper. He moved like a ghost and smiled when he thought he should, smiling even at Severus, which he was sure the other version of Potter would never have done.

The fire crackled loudly and Potter jumped, coming suddenly back to himself. He blinked a couple of times and glanced back at the forgotten book in his lap, shaking his head and frowning. He closed it and stared at the cover for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking up, just in time for Severus to dip his head and evade being caught staring.

"I don't want to interrupt you," Potter began, and Severus prayed to Merlin that the boy didn't want to have a heart to heart about whatever had preoccupied him, "but I just wondered if perhaps you could spare some of the books from here?"

"What are you talking about?" Severus asked, bemused by the odd question.

"I was looking through them earlier and a lot of them are children's books. I was wondering if perhaps you might be persuaded to part with them?"

"And what, pray tell, would you want with children's books? I had thought your reading was slightly more advanced."

Potter smiled slightly and said, "They're for the centre." At Severus' obvious look of puzzlement he continued, "The centre that Draco and I have founded, I thought you knew about it?"

Severus thought that perhaps Draco had mentioned something a few months ago, but if he remembered rightly, it had been when he was on his way to meet Julius and hadn't really been paying much attention.

"We set it up back in January, for the war orphans," Potter continued, looking down at the wedding band on his finger and twisting it slightly. Severus himself hadn't worn his since the wedding day, having stuffed it away in a drawer in his bedside table. "Draco inherited the Malfoy estate after…well after Lucius…"

Potter trailed off. No one really spoke of the fact that Lucius had died at his own son's hands, a fact that had been instrumental in Draco managing to save Potter and get him safely back to Hogwarts.

"Anyway, he decided to use the majority of the money to set up the centre, it's left him virtually penniless," Potter said softly. "He kept a little to put towards the little place he and Ron have in Hogsmeade, but what they have now is theirs. I put the rest of the money up and we opened a couple of months ago, it's where I go every week," he said raising his eyes to meet Severus'.

"I see," said Severus, surprised to learn that this was where Potter disappeared to. Of all the things he had imagined the boy to be doing, taking care of orphaned children wasn't one of them. "And where is this centre?"

"Kent, a little outside of Canterbury. It's going well so far, we have trained social workers who live on site and Draco's solicitor has put us in touch with someone who specialises in charity fundraising, so hopefully we'll have some decent funds coming in soon too. God knows the kids need all the help they can get, some of them are so…so broken.

"There's one girl, she's eight…her mother's in a magically-induced coma at St Mungo's. Lydia she's called, and she's just the most intelligent, intense little girl you've ever met. She's got this barrier up around her, like she thinks that if she lets anyone in then it'll be admitting that there's no hope for her mother…which from what I've heard, there isn't. It's so sad. I keep trying to get through to her but she just…doesn't want to be reached."

Potter shifted his gaze back to the fire, his face soft despite the frown upon it. "I can understand it, it's not easy to open up when the world feels as though it's fallen apart all around you. You want to be able to reach out, to ask someone to make it all better for you but the thought of doing that and them looking at you like…like you're pathetic to ask…like you should be able to cope with it yourself…that thought just stops you dead."

Potter closed his eyes for a moment and he seemed to appear far older than his 19 years. He looked more worn and fatigued than anyone not yet out of their teens had any right to and Severus wondered, not for the first time, if the boy got any sleep at all. The eyes opened again and Potter shook his head slightly, looking suddenly annoyed.

"Rambling again," he said, his voice taking on an edge. "I should leave you in peace, you've been brewing all day, the last thing you want is to listen to me going on."

Potter stood from the sofa, surprising Severus with the sudden change of pace. "Take whatever books you want," he said, "I'm sure they'd be of better use in the centre than gathering dust here."

"Thank you," said Potter, smiling the first genuine smile that Severus had seen. The boy leant down and brushed his lips against Severus' cheek and Severus pulled back, saying,

"I thought we'd established that that sort of nonsense wasn't going to be happening."

Potter straightened himself up and wrapped his arms around torso, nodding as he said, "Sorry, just being stupid. Force of habit. Well, goodnight then."


Severus stepped out of the French doors, coffee in hand, and took a deep breath of fresh air. He had spent all morning brewing several deeply involving potions and he was grateful to take a break. He moved to the little iron table and took a seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him and surveying the gardens.

It was a beautiful day, spring almost ready to cede to summer as May drew to an end. The gardens were beginning to take shape now, thanks in no small part to Potter's insistence on spending nearly every free moment in them. It seemed that he actually knew what he was doing when it came to horticulture and from what Severus had seen, it was the only time when he didn't wear that constant look of preoccupation on his face.

Severus sipped at his coffee and let the scents of the newly flowering magnolia tree waft over him. His eyes were tired from the dullness of the cellar and his mind was a little fuzzy from the heady fumes he had been bent over all morning. He really should have taken a few more breaks along the way but every step had been important and Severus hated to break his stride once he was in it.

A movement to his left caught his attention and he turned to see Potter making his way towards the table. He was dressed in jeans in an old t-shirt, both of which were dirty, and his forehead was sweaty, his black hair sticking to it in clumps. He rubbed at it with his forearm, possibly the only part of him that was clean, making it stick up in awkward angles.

"Hi," he said, coming to stop at the table, chucking down the basket of dead-heads and weeds he had been carrying.

"Hello," Severus replied. "Busy?"

Potter nodded and wiped his hands on the front of his jeans, brushing the rest of the mud from them and taking a seat opposite Severus. "I was working on the bit round the west side of the house, the rosebeds needed weeding and I took a little of the bulk from the Virginia Creeper. It'll look beautiful in the autumn when the colours turn."

"Where did you learn all this?" Severus asked, genuinely interested.

"I did all the garden work at my aunt and uncle's…well I did all the work full stop to be honest, but I actually always enjoyed being in the garden, there's something sort of…therapeutic about it."

"What do you mean you did all the work?" Severus asked, frowning.

Potter shrugged and leant back in his chair, saying, "My aunt and uncle weren't exactly keen on having me around but they made sure to put me to good use. It's understandable; they were saddled with me, I guess they had to have some compensation for it."

What an odd thing to say, Severus thought. He had known that Potter hadn't had the rosiest of times with his so-called family, but to think that they had put him to work like a common house-elf was a strange thought indeed.

"Busy morning?" Potter asked, changing the subject abruptly.

"Rather," Severus replied, used by now to Potter swiftly altering the topic of conversation when it was bothering him. "The orders are increasing in frequency and complexity. I'm considering hiring an assistant."

"The business is really taking off, you must be proud."

Severus inclined his head slightly. "It's successful enough."

Potter chuckled slightly and said, "Never one to overstate the case are you?"

Severus raised an eyebrow but said nothing and Potter turned his face up to the sun, closing his eyes and taking a couple of long, deep breaths.

"Another couple of weeks and you'll be able to smell the honeysuckle," he said softly. "It's such a beautiful place," he said, opening his eyes. "The world just melts away as soon as you step into the boundary. It's the most…it's the most at peace I've felt in a long time," he said, looking across at Severus hesitantly, as though he expected the man to mock him for his declaration.

Severus said nothing, merely nodded slightly. He knew what Potter meant; it was a tranquil spot and the house itself had something about it that seemed to soothe the fractious and restless spirits that so often haunted him.

Potter took a deep breath and flexed his left hand a couple of times, the shaking still apparent, then said, "On Saturday night we're holding our first fundraiser for the centre, that friend of Draco's solicitor is turning out to be a real godsend. I…I was wondering if you'd come with me, I'd like you to be there."

Severus placed his coffee on the table and leant forward slightly. "I must decline, I have several potions to attend to that evening that require intensive brewing." He had no such plans but he was damned if he was going to be dragged along to some godawful charity function to be paraded around as Harry Potter's doting husband, supporting his spouse in his philanthropic endeavours.

"Oh…of course," Potter said, looking genuinely disappointed. "Your time is too valuable to fritter it away on parties I suppose," he said, looking back to the gardens. "Shame…I'd have liked you to have met Lydia. She still won't say much but she spends a lot of time playing at potions. She makes little mixtures…harmless stuff of course but I think one day she may have a talent for it. I thought perhaps you could have spoken to her."

Potter shook his head and looked down at his trembling hand. "It was a daft thought, never mind. I…think I'll go and have a go at the Rhododendron bush, it's looking a little worse for wear."

Potter stood, picking up his basket again, and disappearing off around the other side of the house. Severus shook his head. Spend his evening conversing with morons and surly children? He rather thought not.

When Saturday evening rolled around, Potter stood in the large hallway, adjusting his tie in the mirror and trying, to no avail, to brush his hair into submission. Severus watched him as he leant on the kitchen doorway, a glass of wine in hand.

"I shouldn't bother if I were you," he said, making Potter jump. "I've never seen it look anything but a bird's nest."

Potter turned to him and instead of throwing a rude one-liner back at him, or pulling a face as Severus had been expecting, the boy merely turned back to face himself in the mirror and nodded at his own reflection. "You're right. Ugly," came the barely-discernible whisper as the boy's head dipped down.

"I only meant – " Severus began, perturbed that Potter, it seemed, couldn't take a joke, but the boy shook his head and said softly,

"I know what you meant. I'm well aware of how I look. No wonder you didn't want to come tonight, I wouldn't blame anyone not wanting to be seen on my arm. Who in their right mind would?"

"Potter – " Severus growled and the boy looked up sharply, his eyes horribly red-rimmed.

"Don't," he said dully. "Plenty of people besides you have gone to great pains to make sure I know how…undesirable I am. Believe me when I say that I don't need you to reiterate it."

He moved to the porch and grabbed his cloak, keeping his back to Severus as he wrapped it around his shoulders. "I hope your brewing goes well tonight," he said quietly before he apparated from sight.

Severus stared at the spot where Potter had stood, frowning into the emptiness. Who was this boy that had taken Harry Potter's form? Where was the sarcasm, the impudence, the boldness? Who was this person who spoke in whispers and shied away from the slightest confrontation? It made no sense to Severus and he was getting a little frustrated by this strange incarnation of the person he had thought he had known.

Taking a very large gulp of wine, he resolved to spend no more time thinking about the infuriating person that was his husband. He had better things to do with his time.


The next morning as he sat alone at breakfast, he pulled the Prophet from the stack of papers on the table and saw Potter's picture on the front page. The boy was sitting alone at a large dining table, empty glasses and plates strewn around him, his tie slightly loosened and his elbows forward, resting on his knees.

The headline read 'Potter attends first function without new husband' and Severus rolled his eyes as the piece went on to describe how Potter had thrown the party in an attempt to generate funds for his new socially-minded endeavour, and was having to do so without the aid of his new husband.

Severus scanned the article and found a quote from Potter that read, "My husband would have dearly loved to have been here with me tonight, but you must understand that his time is very valuable, and he is currently in the process of brewing potions that take immeasurable talent and skill. If he could have spared the time to be with me, he would have done."

The rest of the article very heavily implied that the so-called reporter didn't believe a word of it, and made out as though Harry was the most neglected spouse in the history of the world. Severus sneered, but his attention was drawn back to the photograph and he couldn't help but feel a slight pang of guilt as he took in the small, lonely figure sitting staring down at the floor.

He hadn't been in the best frame of mind when he had left of course; Severus' offhand comment had sent him into some black mood that, despite his best intentions, Severus hadn't been able to forget all night. He looked at the image of his husband, and imagined that that left hand would be trembling in his lap as he sat there, watching other people milling around, making merry and hopefully spending money.

Perhaps, and it was only a perhaps, he might be persuaded to attend the next function that Potter and Draco threw for their little crusade, if only to stop such another forlorn and tragic photo from being published.

He didn't see the boy for the whole day, but he assumed he was rambling around in the garden or off out on one of his many long walks in the surrounding countryside. Severus wasn't sure exactly how good those walks were for him; he was too thin as it was and although it was good for him to be out in the fresh air, getting some colour into those pale cheeks, he didn't exactly need the 6 mile walks he seemed to constantly embark upon.

It was only much later when he sat down at the kitchen table at around 8 o'clock to help himself to a cup of coffee that he finally saw his young husband. He wandered into the kitchen with a quiet 'hello' and moved to the range, setting the kettle atop it and lighting it with his wand. He fished out a mug from the cupboard and rifled through the tea caddies until he found the blend he wanted and placed a teabag in the mug, filling it with boiling water from the whistling kettle.

"How did it go last night?" Severus asked as Potter stood leaning with his back against the sink.

"It was good," Potter replied. "A lot of people came and although I haven't had a chance to chat with our accountant, I think we probably managed to raise a fair amount. It was a good evening, I had fun."

Your picture said otherwise, Severus thought, but he settled for saying, "Well that's something then."

"And your potions?" Potter asked, and something in the arch of his brow told Severus that the boy was well aware that there had been no potions.

"All went well," Severus said smoothly.

Potter nodded, a resigned, sad sort of nod, then pushed himself up from the sink and headed towards the door.

"Potter," Severus said before the boy could leave, "I…shall be…coming to your room later. I trust that will be ok?"

The boy's lips went white as his mouth tightened, and he seemed to draw in on himself, curling one arm protectively around his stomach. "Of course. I'll…see you later then," he said, turning sharply and walking out of the room, Severus hearing the release of a shuddering breath as he went.

It was gone 11 by the time he let himself into Potter's room. The room was in darkness but he could see Potter curled on his side in the bed, ready and waiting for him. He said nothing as he divested himself of his clothing as he crossed the room to stand next to the bed. He slipped out of his trousers and kicked them to the side, pausing for a moment before he shifted out of his pants. This was hardly the relief he would have chosen for himself; he wanted to be back in Julius' room, letting the man work his wonders on his flesh, his clever hands and wicked mouth teasing him to completion, but beggars couldn't be choosers and he needed a release.

He slid into the bed and prepared Potter will the spell again, hearing the familiar hitch of the boy's breath in the darkness. He lubricated himself and brought himself to hardness, which wasn't difficult as he had been half-hard when he had entered the room. He moved Potter's leg and positioned himself at the boy's entrance, feeling the same resistance as last time when he tried to push into him.

"Sorry," Potter said, his voice harsh and broken. "I'm not very good at this."

You're telling me, Severus thought with a sigh. "Just relax," he said tersely, and Potter nodded as Severus tried to push into him again. This time was more successful and Severus slid slowly inside until he was fully sheathed. He gave the boy time to adjust then started moving, in and out in long, slow thrusts, bringing an arm around to hold Potter tightly against his body. Potter was tense and every muscle was pulled taut, his head turned into the pillow underneath it, his breathing uneven and juddering.

For Merlin's sake, it isn't that bloody bad, Severus thought with irritation, increasing the pace of his thrusts. Potter wouldn't be so bad if he had a little meat on his bones he supposed as he moved hard inside the boy. He was quite wiry and there was some strength to him but he needed to take better care of himself, as it was he was in danger of wasting away. Severus thrust again and again into the tight body, finally coming as he bit down on his lip to stop any noise from escaping him. He was not one for ridiculous noises in the bedroom, unless of course Julius was mercilessly tearing them from him.

He withdrew carefully from Potter and cast a quick cleaning charm, rolling away and over to the edge of the bed. He found his pants and pulled them on, standing to retrieve his trousers and slip into them. He hadn't bothered reaching around to see to Potter's erection, he was well aware that there wasn't one there in the first place.

"Are you ok?" he said gruffly as he grabbed his shirt.

"Yes," came the soft reply. "I…goodnight."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, he headed for the door, rolling his eyes and saying, "Goodnight Potter, thank you for the breath-taking encounter."

He retreated to his room and went straight to the en-suite, heading for the shower, letting the hot spray pound his skin as he stood there for a good ten minutes. He didn't understand the ridiculous boy. Things could surely be better than that, couldn't they? The boy had told him that he wasn't a virgin, so surely he had experience beyond lying on his side and just taking it?

Severus yanked off the water and grabbed his towel, drying himself quickly and casting a drying spell on his hair. He moved into his room and pulled a clean pair of pants from the dresser and collapsed into bed. He lay there for a good long while, staring up at the canopy of the luxurious four-poster, wondering if he could truly cope until the boy turned 21. There was a little under a year left to go now, and of course, Severus had no choice but to cope with it, but sometimes he couldn't believe his own rotten luck.

He fell asleep eventually, and ended up in as deep a sleep as he could remember, which was why it was such a shock to be wrenched from it so suddenly. At first he didn't know why he was awake and he lay there, frowning into the darkness until he heard the scream. It was raw and harsh, it sounded like an animal in pain and Severus listened until he realised that the next one came from the room across the hall, from Potter.

He jumped out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown from the hook on the door, throwing it around himself as he pulled open the door and crossed the landing over to Potter's door. He knocked and called the boy's name but the screaming came again, so he let himself in only to find Potter thrashing around in the bed, simultaneously screaming and crying.

"Potter!" he shouted, but the thrashing didn't abate. He strode over to the bed and placed his hands on Potter's shoulders, giving the boy a firm shake.

"No!" Potter cried. "Please, please no more! I can't…please don't make me, I can't take any more!" he screamed, lurching upwards and into Severus' arms.

He was trembling, harsh, ragged sobs racking his whole body as he grabbed hold Severus' dressing gown. Severus was stunned for a moment, but eventually he shifted so he could better wrap his arms around the boy, holding him firmly in place as Potter shook with pure, unrestrained fear, the sobs continuing to come.

"Ssh," Severus said as he held the boy close to his chest. "It was a dream, you need to calm down."

"It wasn't a dream, it was real…it was real," came the tiny voice, harsh with emotion.

"You're safe now, you're home, you're in your own bed, nothing's happening to you."

The body in his arms stiffened and the hand gripping his dressing gown slowly let go. "Oh my God," came the horrified whisper and Severus felt Potter struggle to get out of his arms. "Oh my God I'm so sorry."

Potter finally disentangled himself from Severus and practically flew across the bed, whispering lumos as he did so. The candles in the room sprang to life and Potter stood against the wall near the window, his eyes wild and his breathing coming in sharp, frantic bursts.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, looking at Severus in horror.

"Potter what on earth – "

"I didn't mean to…God I…what must you think of me? I must have forgotten to put the silencing charms up. I…I'm such an idiot…I – "

Severus stood up and moved towards Potter, disturbed by the tears streaking the boy's face and the sheer terror he could see etched into every line. He raised his hand to place it on Potter's shoulder and was appalled to see that the boy flinched at the movement, as though he was expecting to be struck.

"Potter, I would never – "

"I know," Potter whispered as the tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. "I know you wouldn't…" he trailed off, wrapping his arms around himself as a look of such sorrow settled in his features that something deeply unpleasant twisted in the pit of Severus' stomach. "I'm sorry I woke you," the boy murmured, "it won't happen again, I promise."

"It doesn't matter," Severus said with a frown.

"Please, please go back to bed. I'll make sure the silencing charms are up this time."

"Potter I can't leave you like this."

"I'm fine," the boy said, hastily wiping his tears away, a sudden look of resolve in his eyes. "It was just…I'm fine…really. You won't be troubled again."

"Again? Potter how often does this happen?"

Potter shook his head and lowered his gaze to the floor. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does, why didn't you – "

"Severus please," Potter whispered, and Severus was struck by the use of his name, the first time Potter had ever used it. "Please just go, I won't bother you any more."

"You're not…" Severus began, but trailed off at the desperate look in the boy's eyes. "Fine, fine I'll go," he said with a resigned nod. He headed for the door and paused with his hand on the handle, turning his body around slightly to cast his eyes back at the wretched figure still huddled against the wall.

He was unfamiliar with the feeling clawing at his chest and part of him felt that to do anything but stay and offer some kind of comfort to the miserable creature that resembled nothing of the boy he had once known would have been nothing short of abject cruelty. It was not in his nature, though, to offer solace to anyone, least of all to someone with whom there was already so much distance, and although it felt wrong, he left, trying his best to ignore the heart-wrenching sob he heard as he closed the door behind him.


He found Potter out in the summerhouse the next morning, an untouched cup of tea on the table beside him, staring out into the distance with tired, unfocused eyes. The boy wouldn't look at him but instead continued to stare ahead, his hand trembling in his lap, the rest of him shivering despite the warmth of the late May morning.

Severus took a seat across from him at the table and crossed one long leg over the other, unable to look away from the figure that he knew was undeniably hurting. "That was not the first time this has happened," he said. It wasn't a question and he got no response. He sighed and said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

The harsh laugh that followed was a surprise to Severus and Potter finally turned to face him, his eyes full of tears that he wouldn't let fall as he said, "And what would have been the point in that?"

Severus opened his mouth to respond but found that he didn't have an answer.

"There's nothing you can do," Potter continued, his voice raw, "there's nothing anyone can do."

"It may have escaped your notice, but I am a Potions Master. At the very least I could have made you a high-quality batch of Dreamless Sleep."

Potter shook his head and looked away, sniffing slightly and swiping at his eyes in irritation. "You have better things to do than to make me potions. I know how busy you are."

"But – "

"Besides," said Potter, getting to his feet and grabbing his untouched cup of tea, "I thought if I asked you that you'd say no."

He was gone before Severus had a chance to protest. Was that really what the boy thought of him? Was he such a monster in Potter's eyes that he really thought that Severus would deny him a simple potion if he had asked for it?

Well, he intended to prove the ridiculous little whelp wrong. He spent the rest of the day holed up in the cellar working on a variation of Dreamless Sleep that would not only guarantee that Potter would not be plagued by whatever nightmares that troubled him, but that would also enable the boy to fall asleep in the first place. It was a more involving process that the standard Dreamless Sleep, and he decided to make a few batches of it so that he could present the boy with enough to last for a good few months.

He wasn't entirely sure of his motives if he was honest. Was he doing it to prove the boy wrong, to prove that he wasn't as difficult as Potter had made him out to be? Or was it something else? He couldn't forget how Potter had clung to him last night, how wild and frightened his eyes had been when he had run from the bed and pressed himself against the wall. More than anything though, he couldn't forget the heart-rending sob that he had heard as he had left the boy's room. It had been ringing in his ears ever since and he wished, with all his might, that he had never heard it in the first place.

He looked for Potter when he finally finished later that evening and found him in the library, curled up and fast asleep. Severus sighed, reluctant to wake him up now that he had obviously managed to find a moment's respite. He retrieved a book from the nearest shelf, not really paying attention to what it was, and took a seat on the sofa next to the sleeping boy.

He hadn't been reading what turned out to be a book on Tudor wizarding customs for very long when Potter shifted in his sleep, and suddenly Severus felt the boy's weight come to rest against his shoulder. His first instinct was to shake him off, to send him back to his side of the sofa and out of his personal space, but Potter was so tired, so worn, that to wake him when he had finally found some rest seemed like the height of cruelty.

Severus settled instead for shifting slightly so that he could sit more comfortably with Potter's head resting on his shoulder. He became so immersed in the book, which turned into a much more interesting read than he was expecting, that he didn't really notice as the next hour slipped by, with Potter cuddled into his side, occasionally emitting a soft little sigh as he nestled in deeper.

It was only the chiming of the clock on the mantlepiece that finally roused his sleeping companion, and he felt the weight shift from his shoulder, followed by a softly murmured, "Oh…oh God I'm sorry."

Potter got up from the sofa so quickly that Severus wasn't sure how he hadn't fallen over in his haste. "Potter it's ok," Severus said, looking up at the boy, who was standing there as though he was expecting some form of reprimand.

"No, no it's not," Potter said, shaking his head. "I know you don't want me doing things like that," the boy said, wrapping his arms around himself. "Just because we're married doesn't mean…" he waved his hand dismissively, his wedding band glinting as he did so. "It won't happen again, I promise."

He headed for the door but Severus wasn't to be dismissed so easily this time. He stood and followed, saying, "Potter would you stand still for just one minute?"

The boy did as he was told and stood hunched by the door, as though waiting to bolt at any minute. Severus reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the vials of Dreamless Sleep he had made, handing it over to Potter.

"Take it half an hour before you go to bed. It will help you to fall asleep and…should give you a peaceful night."

Potter took the vial, frowning at it as he held it in his hand. "You made this?" he asked quietly.

"I've made enough to last you for the foreseeable. It should help."

"I…thank you…" Potter said, continuing to frown down at the bottle.

There was silence for a moment and Severus felt the odd clawing in his chest again. He needed to do something more, something to chase away that noise of the boy sobbing alone in his room. "I…" the noise came out in an undignified croak and he cleared his throat. "I could take a look at the tremor in your hand," he said, surprising himself.

Potter look up, his face guarded, as though he were waiting for Severus to finish the joke. "What do you mean?" he asked eventually.

"There are…there are some potions that have been formulated specifically for nerve damage. I wouldn't trust the healers at St Mungo's to know their arnica from their echinacea when it comes to the latest in experimental healing potions, it's little wonder they wouldn't have tried anything."

"You…you would do that?" Potter asked softly.

"Of course I would."

Potter looked at him for a moment, then slowly reached out his hand as though to touch him, but apparently thought better of it, retracting it again and holding it against his chest, the familiar tremble ever-present. "Thank you," he said, his voice slightly shaky, before he turned and finally fled, leaving Severus alone in the room, wondering what the hell was wrong with them both.


"Tea? Aren't you feeling very well?" asked Potter as he took a seat opposite Severus at the kitchen table.

"Mm? What do you mean?" asked Severus, looking up at him.

The boy nodded towards the teacup in front of him and said, "You only drink tea when you're under the weather."

Severus frowned and looked up at his husband, saying, "Do I?"

Potter smiled and cradled his own cup to his chest. "You never normally defect from your coffee unless you're feeling rough. What's the matter?"

"Nothing, a slight headache. I've been spending the morning bent over some rather noxious fumes."

"Oh, is there anything I can get you? Is that tea chamomile? I often find that helps."

"No, no I'm fine, but thank you."

"Ok, well I'm off to the centre. I'll be back around 5. I hope you feel better, try not to spend the whole afternoon bent over a cauldron eh?"

Potter rose from the table and placed his own teacup in the sink, knowing that Kreacher would see to it after he was gone. He made his way to the door, stopping next to Severus, and was about to bend down and offer a kiss to the man's cheek but pulled himself back before he could do so.

"Sorry, must stop doing that," he said softly. "I'll…I'll see you later."

And with that, the boy left, taking his smiling and gentle presence with him. Severus couldn't help but think as he sat there looking down into his tea, that perhaps, just perhaps, a kiss wouldn't have that objectionable.

Despite making a conscious decision to stay away from the potions lab for the rest of the afternoon, Severus' headache got progressively worse until he found himself sitting on the bottom step of the large staircase, his head in his hands, willing himself to make the suddenly insurmountable journey up to his room.

It was where Potter found him when he returned home from the centre, cutting himself off mid-sentence as he was saying,

"I'm home. Ugh I had the most ridiculous day. You know sometimes when you…Severus? What's wrong?"

He felt Potter kneel beside him and a hand came to rest on his back, rubbing back and forth in soothing circles.

"I think my head's going to explode," Severus groaned, digging his fingers into his skull.

"Oh it sounds like a migraine. Come on, let's get you to bed, you shouldn't be sitting here like this. Can you stand?"

"Not easily," Severus murmured, then felt himself hauled up into a surprisingly strong pair of arms. Perhaps all that work in the garden was paying off. His arm was slung around Potter's shoulders and Potter braced a hand on Severus' chest, saying softly,

"Just one stair at a time, we'll do this slowly. I would levitate you but there's something a little undignified about it don't you think? Sort of impersonal too I suppose. There we go, that's it, one foot in front of the other."

"I didn't know there was another way to walk," Severus groused, the pain in his head stopping him from putting his usual rancour into the sentence.

Potter chuckled softly and said, "Fair point. You can rest more of your weight on me, I promise I won't send us both tumbling down the stairs."

Severus was sceptical but did as he was instructed nevertheless, he didn't have the strength to walk unaided and he was grateful for Potter's support. They made it to Severus' room and Potter settled Severus down on the bed before moving over to the window and drawing the curtains, shutting out the evening's summer sunshine.

"Be back in a sec," Potter murmured, and Severus squeezed his eyes shut, willing the unbearable pain in his head to go away. It felt as though someone had drilled a hole in the side of his skull and was systematically pouring acid into it. He was willing to offer up his soul in service to the next Dark Lord if they could promise to take this insufferable pain away from him.

He felt the bed dip as Potter sat next to him, and a cold flannel was placed over his forehead whilst a hand came to rest at the nape of his neck. He was about to ask what Potter was doing when the boy said,

"Ssh, it's ok. I'm just going to try and ease the muscles slightly."

Potter moved his fingers, gently pressing into the horrible tense knots there and murmuring, "Relevabor."

It didn't rid him of the hideous migraine, but it did relieve some of the pain slightly, and it although it felt alien to have someone be so innocently attentive to him, he couldn't say that it wasn't nice.

"Here, it's some of the Dreamless Sleep you made," said Potter, pressing a vial to his lips and holding the back of his head gently to tilt it so he could drink. Severus sipped carefully, tasting his own work and Potter said, "Sleep will be the best thing for you now. It just needs to work its way out of your system."

Gentle fingers were combing through his hair and Severus couldn't remember a time when anyone had taken such care of him, even when he had been a child. Suddenly, Severus felt strangely grateful for this quiet and temperate presence in his life.

"I'll leave you to sleep," Potter whispered, and Severus felt the bed bounce back as the boy stood. He cracked his eyes open as much as he could bear and tentatively reached for Potter's hand. Even through his haze of pain he could see the surprise as it registered on the boy's face.

"Thank you Harry," he murmured, and he was gifted with a sweet, gentle smile, one that seemed to undo that horrible clawing feeling he had had in chest for weeks.


"That will teach me to start brewing migraine relief potions," Severus said over his cup of coffee the next morning. Thankfully he had woken with a wonderfully clear head and there seemed to be no trace of the migraine that his torn his brain apart the previous day.

"And you've never had one before?" Harry asked, pouring himself a cup of tea from the teapot and shaking his head as Kreacher tried to offer him a plate of toast.

"I've experienced many variations of pain throughout my life, but never that. I hope to Merlin that I never do again."

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but very often when you have one that's often the start of a cluster of them."

Severus paused his coffee on its way to his lips and looked at Harry with one of his patented expressions, saying, "Thank you for that."

Harry chuckled softly and said, "Sorry, I'm all out of pep talks for today."

They sat in oddly companionable silence for a few moments, Severus starting on the poached eggs that had been placed in front of him while Harry continued to sip at his tea. Severus had woken feeling unusually kindly disposed towards his husband, and he couldn't deny that the care and attention Harry had shown him yesterday had been surprisingly welcome.

As it was, Harry wasn't wrong in his prediction that Severus was about to enter a cluster of migraines, and he had one every week for the next month and a half. Potions didn't touch them, nor did the muggle painkillers that Harry had purchased for him in a pharmacy in an attempt to help with the next attack. There was no recourse but to take to his bed and shut out any hint of light, taking the sleeping aid he had brewed until he drifted into unconsciousness and praying that when he next woke, his head would be clear.

Each time he suffered an attack, Harry was there, helping him stumble back to his bedroom, laying a cold flannel over his forehead and easing the horrible pain in his neck either with his deft fingers or with the whispered spell that relaxed his muscles. He would murmur soft words that Severus never really heard properly but it didn't matter, all he wanted to listen to were the soft tones that ghosted over the edge of his brain, soothing him and his fractious energy.

Severus couldn't remember anyone ever treating him that way. Not once in his entire childhood, not even when he had had pneumonia when he was eight, could he cast his mind back and remember gentle hands and sweet words of kindness or reassurance. It was wholly unfamiliar to him, but as the weeks went on, Severus began to think that but for Harry's ministrations, he would have gone crazy after the second migraine attack.

"Maybe we could just put you in a magical coma for the next couple of months," Harry said as he tugged at a particularly stubborn weed. The garden was looking rather spectacular in the late summer sunshine, thanks entirely to Harry's endeavours.

"Oh very droll," Severus said, rolling his eyes and reaching for a sandwich from the tray that Kreacher had brought out. Technically, Severus was meant to be helping, but he found that sitting at the little table and chairs and offering helpful advice every now and again was much more beneficial.

"Well, anything would be better than these weekly attacks. Your poor brain, it must be like Dresden in there."

Severus stifled a laugh at the rather witty response. He would not laugh at something the whelp had said, no matter how amusing it might have been. His resolve had been tested several times over the last few weeks; despite the fact that the boy still kept very much to himself and often seemed to be in another world, he could be surprisingly funny when he wanted to be.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Severus asked, reaching for another sandwich from the platter.

"Not hungry," Harry replied, finally winning against the weed and tearing it from the earth, chucking it down into the awaiting basket triumphantly.

You never are, Severus thought irritably. The boy was still too thin, despite the wiry muscles he was building from all his time spent in the garden. He rarely ate a full meal, and instead would just pick at bits of food throughout the day.

"Perhaps you should leave that for now, it's nearly 9 o'clock and you've been out here since four."

"There are things to do," Harry replied with a shrug. "Oh I fixed the kitchen sink by the way."

"You?" Severus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes me," Harry said with a laugh. "I told you I could do DIY, and plumbing happens to be one of my areas of expertise. Bet you never realised you'd married such a catch."

"Indeed," Severus said with an inelegant snort. "Come on, that will do for tonight, let's call it a day and go back inside."

Harry sighed and wiped his hands on his jeans and nodded in defeat. "Alright, fair shout. I am pretty tired. A cup of tea and a couple of chapters of my book sound pretty good."

Careful Harry, don't want to walk too far on the wild side, Severus thought with an internal eye roll. The boy rose to his feet and dusted himself off, stretching his arms above his head and easing his head from side to side. Severus couldn't help but watch the somewhat graceful movements and thought to himself that perhaps tonight was time for another conjugal visit with his husband.

He followed Harry into the house, suddenly very interested in the moving form in front of him. It had been a couple of weeks since his last encounter with the boy and he was feeling a little twitchy. The last time had been as uninspiring as all the others but he had taken a little more time with Harry, having felt a little more generous than usual after the kindness Harry had shown him in taking care of him.

He leant on the kitchen doorway, arms folded, as he watched Harry get a drink of water and glug it down thirstily. The boy ran a hand through his messy hair and suddenly Severus thought that perhaps waiting until bedtime was unnecessary.

Harry turned to face him and tilted his head questioningly. "Something wrong?" he asked, realising that Severus' eyes had been on him.

Severus moved into the room and came to stand in front of Harry at the sink. "No, nothing wrong," he said smoothly, taking in the features of the boy's face. He would never be as striking as Julius, nor would he ever exude anything like the raw sexual magnetism that his former paramour had done, but Severus supposed, in the right light, there was something mildly appealing about his young husband.

"I wondered how you might feel about an early night," he said, moving closer still.

"An early night? I…oh…" Potter said softly, realisation dawning on his face.

"Perhaps," said Severus, reaching out and trailing one long finger down Harry's chest until it reached the waistband of the boy's trousers, "we could do something a little different tonight."

He reached his hand down to cup Harry through his trousers and the boy backed himself up against the sink as far as he could go. Severus saw the immediate look of horror in the boy's face and he growled in frustration. Dear Merlin, what was wrong with him?

"But then, perhaps not," Severus said, stepping back with a sneer. "How could I be so foolish as to think that the most reticent, sexually repressed man in the world would want to do anything other than to just lie there and take it?"

Harry flinched as though he had been struck but Severus wasn't finished. "I mean really Potter, it was bad enough that I had to be shackled to you for over a year, but to be sentenced to the most dull, pathetic sex of my life really was the icing on the cake. All I can say is that your first time must have really been some number to have caused you to be the most bland, uninspiring partner that I have ever had the misfortune of sharing a bed with."

He regretted the words the instant he said them but nothing could prepare him for the feeling of utter wretchedness that grabbed him as he saw the abject devastation in his husband's face. Green eyes swam with unshed tears, and the cheeks that had had such a healthy colour to them only moments ago were now ashen. His breathing was ragged, as though he were having trouble catching his breath and Severus could see that the boy's hand was shaking more than ever.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, the effort of holding back his tears making his voice harsh and uneven. His eyes went to the floor and he shrank in on himself, curling his arms around his torso in an effort to protect himself. "I should be…I should be better…more…instead of this…this…I'm sorry," he said, his whole body shaking now and Severus wished he could just stuff the words back into this mouth, make it so he had never said them.

"Harry…" he began but the boy shook his head furiously, refusing to look up.

"Everything you say about me is right," he said in the most forlorn voice that Severus had ever heard, and it went right to his chest, stabbing him like a knife. "I'm sorry I can't be more for you."

He pushed past Severus and all but ran out of the room, leaving Severus to stand in the dimly lit kitchen, cursing his own hateful nature.


There was to be no sleep for him that night. He lay alone in his silent room looking up at the canopy of his bed and wishing that he had never opened his mouth. He knew what he had said had been cruel, and he was left with a deep and unpleasant sense of regret.

He was a bitter, twisted man, he knew that. After all the kindness that Harry had shown him, the many, many times the boy had brushed the hair from his forehead and whispered words of comfort when he had been suffering, this was how he repaid him?

Eventually he had grown sick of the sound of his own thoughts and had shut himself up in his potions lab from 3 o'clock in the morning onwards, not intending to leave it unless strictly necessary. He managed eight straight hours before he had to surface, seeking a much-needed cup of coffee to kickstart his brain after the hideous night he had had.

He made it to the top of the cellar stairs, stopping in his tracks when he heard voices coming from the sitting room. The first he recognised as Harry's and as he listened, he realised that it was Weasley to whom his husband was speaking.

Oh wonderful, Severus thought, he'll be in there, moaning about how bloody awful his life is here, and what a terrible, awful husband I am.

His own curiosity getting the better of him, Severus cast a silencing and disillusionment charm over himself and inched nearer to the door. The voices became clearer, and he was surprised to hear not the whining complaints he had been expecting, but Harry's voice saying in its usual gentle tones,

"Well why didn't you go for the blue plates if you liked them?"

Weasley snorted and replied, "What, and have Drake spend the next month in a hissy fit with me? Who knew plates would be so important?"

"Can't you compromise and go for something in between?"

"Oh yes," Weasley scoffed, "we'll end up with plates the colour of snot. How charming."

Harry laughed softly and Severus could hear the clinking of china as tea was poured. "Oh these little domestic quarrels, they'll be the death of you."

"No, Draco will be the death of me, that I promise you." There was a pause, followed by Weasley asking, "How are you anyway, you look tired."

"Oh…I didn't get much sleep last night," came the soft response and something sharp twisted in Severus' chest.

"Are you still having pain?" Weasley asked, the concern evident in his voice.

"Yes," Harry replied, his voice tired. "Some days are better than others, but I know that some things just won't heal, no matter how much I wish they would."

"Harry," Weasley said quietly and Severus inclined his head slightly so he could see the two men sitting side by side on the sofa, Harry looking horribly pale and more unwell than Severus had seen him look in months. "Tell me what's wrong," Weasley implored gently.

"It's nothing Ron, really. I'm just tired."

"I can see that, you look exhausted."

Harry laughed mirthlessly and said, "You know, you'd think people would get sick of saying that."

"Are things not going well here? The last time I saw you you seemed a little brighter about things, a little more positive."

"Things are fine," Harry said, and Severus knew that it wouldn't take the boy's best friend to see past that thin lie. "I mean, as fine as they can be given the circumstances."

"Ok say that one more time and try not to turn green this time. What's happened, Harry?"

Severus watched as Harry twisted his hands in his lap and looked down at them miserably, chewing on his bottom lip and frowning. "I'm making him miserable," Harry said softly and Severus could barely believe his own ears. "I'm not enough for him, how could I be?"

"Harry, what are you talking about?" Weasley asked, obviously confused.

Harry paused and took a couple of deep breaths, then looked up at his friend, his eyes pained and hollow. "He wants to…he wants me to be able to be a proper husband…in every way," Harry whispered. "And I just can't," he said, breathing out the last word in earnest.

"Oh Harry," Weasley said, closing his hand over Harry's. "Of course you can't. After what happened to you…I'm surprised you managed to get through your wedding night in one piece. Are you…saying that you've slept with him since?" Weasley asked, and Severus felt mildly offended by the horrified tone of the boy's voice.

Harry nodded and said, "He…he has every right to. I'm stopping him from…from being able to do that with anyone else, he…he's perfectly justified to…"

"To what? Demand access to your body?" Weasley asked, his face flushing. "Harry," Weasley said, grabbing Harry gently by the shoulders, "they raped you."

Severus felt as though someone had pulled the world out from underneath him. Blood rushed and pulsed loudly in his ears and his palms prickled horribly as unnatural heat flooded his body. He barely heard the next words from Weasley's mouth but he forced himself to listen as the boy said,

"What happened to you was horrific…what those bastards did to you…it was…it was evil. You can't expect to just be able to bounce back from it and be able to view sex normally again. Harry love, they took your virginity, they brutalised you."

Severus couldn't take anymore; he turned and emptied the contents of his stomach into a nearby plant pot, grateful he had had the presence of mind to cast the silencing charm. Oh God, he was truly a monster. He sat slumped against the wall, his heart pounding as he heard his husband break down in soft, quiet sobs.

"I wasn't foolish enough to expect love from my marriage, Ron," came the broken voice. "I knew he could never feel that way about me, but…but I'd hoped he might be able to show me some…tenderness…some affection. There are days when I feel so starved for anything kind or gentle that I feel as though I might break. I hate feeling this way, I hate being this weak."

"Listen to me," came Weasley's voice, firm and unyielding, "you are the strongest person I have ever met in my life. Do you think many people could go through what you did and come out of it able to not only carry on, but to go on to defeat the most evil wizard the world has ever seen? Harry, you have more strength inside you than you will ever know."

Severus couldn't listen to anymore. He got up shakily from the floor and headed back down to his potions lab as silently as he could, his head pounding and his heart thumping. How could he not have known? Because you didn't bloody care enough to find out, came a damning voice in his head. Harry had gone through that awful, terrible experience, had been brutalised and hurt in the worst way possible and Severus had insisted that Harry give him access to his body…to use him…

If he had had anything left in his stomach, he would have been heaving it up at that point. He felt sick and dizzy and in that moment, he truly hated himself.

He needed answers though, and he wasn't about to go and ask Harry to relive the worst moments of his life. He tried to collect himself, but, still shaking and deeply tormented, he apparated from his cellar room and arrived on the edge of Hogsmeade. He made his way past the crowds of people, ignoring everyone in his path, until he was standing outside the little cottage that Draco and Weasley owned.

He banged on the door, not ceasing until it was finally flung open and Draco stood there looking at him exasperatedly, saying,

"What? Why the bloody hell are you trying to kick my door in?" Severus brushed past him into the hallway and Draco closed the door, turning to face him and saying, "Severus what the hell is the matter?"

Severus tried to collect his thoughts, tried to formulate a coherent sentence but he was so rattled that he could do nothing other than blurt out, "How could no one have told me what happened to Harry?"

Something unreadable shifted across Draco's face and a hard look came into the grey eyes. "It was no one's business but Harry's."

"I'm his husband!" Severus protested, eliciting a harsh bark of laughter from Draco.

"And what a husband you are! You don't care about him, you don't care what happened to him!"

"Of course I care! If I'd have known that that had happened to him I'd have never…" Severus trailed off and Draco eyed him suspiciously.

"You'd have never what?" the blond asked, his voice dangerously low.

"I didn't know Draco. I never would have…I never would have carried on sleeping with him if he'd have told me."

"You…made him sleep with you?" Draco asked, something akin to horror in his features. He stared at Severus in disgust for a moment before turning slowly around, his back to Severus, his shoulders stiff. It took Severus completely by surprise when his former student whirled around and landed a punch directly to his jaw.

He sprawled back against the wall, shock and pain blossoming through him, clutching the side of his face as Draco stood in front of him radiating pure anger.

"How could you?" he hissed. "I asked you, I begged you, to be kind to him, to be gentle with him but you couldn't manage that could you? I should have known that there wasn't enough humanity in you to be able to show another human being a little compassion, a little tenderness.

"Do you have any idea what he went through? When I found him he barely resembled a person, let alone Harry Potter. They had brutalised him in every way possible, he'd taken days of relentless, vicious abuse and he was so broken that I really thought he was going to die. Do you know their favourite thing do to? Do you? Well I'll tell you – they liked to cast the Cruciatus on him while they raped him.

"Can you imagine anything so cruel? So evil? To have survived what they did to him is nothing short of miraculous, and what's more, he came through it to be one of the kindest, gentlest people I have ever have the good fortune of meeting. He never thinks of himself, he works himself into the ground trying to make the centre a success, trying to give those children a good and happy life.

"And what does he come home to? A bitter, twisted, nasty little man who has never given anyone besides himself a second thought. A man who thinks of him as nothing more than a fucktoy and uses him for his own sick gratification."

Severus wanted to argue, to defend himself, but there was nothing he could say. Everything Draco said was true, there was no way to refute the charges levelled at him. He knew had could do nothing but stand there and take it.

"I'd hoped that maybe, after you'd been married a little while, that you would start to see what an amazing person he is, that you would come to care for him. I thought that maybe he could soften your edges a little, turn you into something that vaguely resembled a human being. But I should have known – there is no force on this earth that could stop you from being the most self-involved, disaffected bastard that ever lived."

Draco shook his head and Severus felt his jaw start to throb. Who knew a refined Pureblood could land such a right hook?

"Just get out Severus. Ron will be back in a bit and I doubt he'd want to see you here."

Severus paused for a moment, his mind still reeling, before he nodded resignedly and apparated from the spot. He went back to the estate but didn't go back inside the house, he wasn't ready to face Harry just yet.

He decided to go for a walk, taking one of the many footpaths that were dotted around nearby. He needed to try and clear his head, to try and figure out what the hell he was going to say to Harry. What could he say? There was nothing that wouldn't sound inadequate or trite, there was nothing that could undo the hurt he had caused, the harm he had done to a person who done nothing to deserve his coldness, his spite.

Draco was right; Harry was the kindest, gentlest person Severus had ever known, and all Severus had shown him was contempt. He had been rough and dismissive…and the way he had treated him in bed…it made his blood run cold to think about it. After what Harry had experienced at those monsters' hands…all for Severus to come along months later and force him to…God…he was just as bad as Harry's abusers.

He walked for a good couple of hours, but he could find no way to justify his behaviour, nor to ease the hideous tumult of feeling that refused to abate. He made his way back to the house, quietly letting himself in and standing in the hallway for a few moments, trying to see if he could hear any proof that Harry was home.

A noise came from the sitting room and Severus made his way slowly over, stopping in the doorway to surreptitiously watch Harry as he moved around the room, dusting and cleaning. His movements were slow and Severus could tell he was in pain, how had he never noticed before? How hadn't he bothered to find out how his husband's health was after his horrific experience?

Draco had been right about everything apart from one thing; he did care about Harry. He hadn't realised it before, hadn't given it much thought at all really, but he did. He wanted to stop the boy from hurting, wanted to make things better for him, but he had no idea how.

"Harry," he said softly, stepping into the room, making the boy jump and turn around to look at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh…no you didn't," Harry said, shaking his head. "I just didn't hear you come in."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, and Severus recognised the gesture now, realised that Harry was still feeling wretched and vulnerable from their horrible altercation the night before.

"Harry I owe you an apology," Severus said, wishing that Harry would stop staring at the floor and look at him so that he could see the sincerity in his face.

"No you don't," the boy said quietly. "Everything you said was true," he said, looking up with a sad smile. "No need to apologise for the truth."

Severus moved further into the room and walked slowly over to Harry. He didn't know how he was supposed to fix this, how he was supposed to put right all the wrongs that he had been responsible for.

"Harry, I – "

"Severus really, there's no need. I promise, next time you come to my room, I'll…try harder," Harry said with an air of stoic resolve.

Severus felt as though he couldn't breathe. His skin prickled and he felt sick again. After all Harry had been through, all he had suffered, here he was, promising Severus that he would offer himself willingly the next time Severus felt the urge.

"Harry, there won't be…I mean…things are going to change."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, frowning.

Severus paused. He didn't really know what he meant but he needed to make the boy see that life wasn't going to continue the way it had done.

"I just…I mean…"

"Severus do you think that maybe we could continue this conversation later? I'm due at the centre and I don't want to be late."

Severus sighed and nodded. This wasn't going the way he had hoped it would. Suddenly, inspiration struck. "Harry do you think…could I…could I take you to dinner tonight?"

The look of surprise on Harry's face was almost comical but Severus could find no humour in the situation.

"I…why would you want to?" Harry asked guardedly, and Severus found himself saddened that that was the first question to spring to Harry's mind.

"I want to spend some time with you," Severus said softly, praying to Merlin that Harry would take him at his word. "I'd like for us to…spend some time getting to know one another a little better. The pub in the village does surprisingly good food. We could take a stroll down there this evening, after you're done at the centre."

Harry looked at him for a moment, searching his face for any trace that he was being made fun of, that Severus was going to laugh at him if he accepted. All Severus could do was stand there and let himself be scrutinised, hoping that Harry could see his sincerity.

"Alright then," Harry said eventually, his expression still guarded, "that sounds good." He looked up at the clock on the mantlepiece and said, "I'd better go, but I'll see you later." He moved closer and Severus recognised the tell-tale sign that the boy was about to kiss his cheek and this time, he wasn't about to push him away. It turned out he didn't need to, Harry stopped himself before his lips could meet Severus' cheek and lowered his eyes to the floor. "Sorry," he whispered, "must stop doing that."

He brushed past Severus out into the entrance hall and it suddenly hit Severus. Every single time Harry had gone to kiss him or touch his shoulder, every casual brush of his fingers or the gentle way Harry would touch him when he was suffering a migraine, all these things were the very signs that Severus should have seen that showed just how starved Harry was for affection, how much he needed a little tenderness.

He didn't know if he could ever repair the damage he had done, but he knew how he could start to try. He followed Harry out into the hall and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, turning him back around to face him. He met Harry's eyes openly then gently placed his hand on Harry's cheek. He felt suddenly nervous, exposed, but he pushed it aside as he lowered his head and captured Harry's lips in a slow, sweet kiss.

He felt Harry tense slightly but he was determined to do this, to show his husband the tenderness he was so desperate for. He kept one hand on the boy's cheek while the other came to rest in the small of Harry's back, holding him gently. He kissed Harry softly, moving his lips in a light caress over Harry's. Never in his life had he had a kiss this sweet, never before had he felt the lips beneath his own move so tentatively, or felt the slightest quiver of muscle beneath his hand as he held the body in his arms close to him.

The thing he noticed most of all was that Harry was kissing him back. It might have been cautious and a little hesitant, and Severus thought that if he had experienced this kiss at the start of their marriage he would have reacted to it with little more than a sneer. Now though, he thought that he could lose himself in the heady feeling.

He broke away slowly, not wanting to overwhelm either himself or Harry. His hand still on Harry's cheek, he looked down into the shining eyes of his husband and something in him shifted. Harry was looking at him with a such an open and vulnerable expression, stunned at having been kissed and no doubt surprised at how caring Severus had been with him.

"You'll be late," Severus said, brushing his fingers over Harry's cheekbone.

"I will," Harry murmured. He shook himself slightly, trying to pull himself out of the strange daze that had settled over them both. "I'll see you later," he said and Severus reluctantly stepped back, allowing Harry some space to apparate.

The boy looked at him and then slowly allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. Severus felt its twin form on his own mouth and before he could embarrass himself with a full-blown smile, Harry disappeared from sight.


AN: Well, as I said, that's part 1 of 2, with the second part to follow soon. Please let know what you thought, looking forward to reading your comment. Cithara xx