When Sirius and Remus returned to Grimmauld Place, Tonks immediately arrived behind them and conjured some extended Wizard Space upstairs to accommodate Remus. Even though they were now residing at the residence of Ted and Andromeda Tonks full time, Tonks didn't want her parents to have to deal with Remus's affliction with the full moon. As such, Sirius agreed to accommodate the couple at Grimmauld, with strict instructions, directed at Harry and Draco to not disturb Remus during the change.

Lunchtime the day before Harry's sixteenth birthday found Harry and Draco sitting outside in the balmy sunshine. Kreacher and Dobby had brought them a pitcher of lemonade and a platter of sandwiches, while they lounged in the shade of the massive and impressive oak trees. Draco was sipping at his glass of lemonade, while Harry was casually nibbling at a bacon sandwich. There was no need for the pair of them to speak, however, it was plain to see that the two teenagers clearly enjoyed each other's company.

There was a spark of magic from inside the Islington home about a quarter of an hour later and, much to Harry and Draco's surprise, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George all bounded out of the ancestral Black family home and into the yard. Draco immediately sprung to his feet, placing the lemonade onto the bistro table nearby, and caught up Ginny in his arms, snogging her in an effective manner, while Fred and George chuckled, Hermione smiled, and Ron visibly grimaced at the display.

Harry got to his feet shortly thereafter, and was passed around back and forth, with each member of the Weasley family, plus Hermione, moving forward to hug him. "Couldn't wait until my birthday tomorrow, eh?" he joked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and immediately moved to brush the lingering crumbs off from Harry's blue button-down. "Honestly, Harry. You're as bad as Ron sometimes," she said, and proceeded to wrinkle her nose.

Ron draped an arm around Harry's shoulder and ruffled his hair, which was sticking up in all directions as per usual. "Let the man live, 'Mione," he playfully scolded his girlfriend, who let out a scoff, and leaned into Ginny's side, who was holding onto Draco's hand. "And of course we couldn't wait until your birthday, mate."

Fred grinned at Harry. "And Mum may have Fire-Called Sirius, requesting..."

"Demanding," George put in.

"...that Sirius allow the four of us to come here for the day," Fred finished.

"Were you getting in the way?" Harry asked.

Ginny grinned. "Hermione and I weren't," she told him.

"But Mrs. Weasley thought we'd want to see you, after she banished those two," Hermione said, waggling a finger at Fred and George, "and this one," she went on, jabbing a finger in Ron's direction, "took one too many tastes of the food for tomorrow."

Ron sputtered at the accusation, while Fred and George immediately held up their hands in mock-surrender. "She didn't specify—!" Ron began.

"You were repeatedly tasting the batter, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione said, throwing her hands up into the air. "What was your mum supposed to think?!"

"Well, erm..." Ron began.

"She called you an 'impatient child', don't deny it," Hermione put in.

Ginny dragged her trainer along the cobblestone ground of the garden. "I think the world 'greedy' was also put in there," she remarked, and Draco casually snaked a hand around her waist, pressing repeated kisses to her temple in an attempt to stave off his laughter, and Ginny flushed becomingly at the attention.

"Who's helping your mum now?" Harry asked, knowing that moving forward in the conversation would, perhaps, prevent a fight between Ron and Hermione.

"Bill and Fleur," Ginny put in, rolling her eyes a little at the mention of her eldest brother's serious girlfriend. "All they really wanted was to get on her good side, and Fleur thought she could do that by providing Mum with some of her Veela grandmother's special French pastry recipes for your party tomorrow, which are rumored to be top-secret..."

Harry blinked. "Why would they want to get on her good side? They work in Diagon Alley, and they've got that little flat near where Fred and George live..."

"They want something out of Mum, mate," Fred said, rolling his eyes.

"What do they want?" Harry queried.

"Our aunt, Mum's aunt, really, Tessie, owned property in Tinworth," George explained, all proper-like, and Harry got the distinct impression that Tessie—whom Ron claimed his dress robes for the Yule Ball smelled like in fourth-year—was quite a proper woman.

"Shell Cottage," Ron said from beside Harry.

"They want your great-aunt's house?" Harry asked.

"She died twenty years back, and our uncles, Mum's brothers, hid out there during the First Wizarding War, before Death Eaters caught them, tortured them for information, and killed them," Ron remarked softly, and Ginny cuddled closer to Draco at that, who loathed hearing about Death Eater activity, and it was plain to see that he still blamed himself for all of his family's misdeeds throughout the centuries.

"So, they want the house, then?" Harry pressed.

"Something like that," Fred said quietly.

George rolled his eyes. "Mum probably wants them to be married before they even think about getting a proper house..."

"But it's not like Bill would ever stoop so low to marry someone like phlegm," Ginny said, and Hermione laughed at Ginny's nickname for Fleur.

"They probably also want Great-Aunt Lucretia's ring," Ron said, and rolled his eyes.

"Lucretia?" Harry asked, recognizing the name from the Black family tree. "She married into the Prewett family, didn't she?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Now since Sirius is raising you proper-like, it makes all of us family," he said proudly.

"Not so close family, thank you very much," Ginny snapped, snuggling in closer to Draco and glaring at Ron, almost as if she was daring him to attempt at separating them.

"The ring is very similar to that of... What was it again, 'Mione?" Ron asked, and Harry came to the conclusion that Hermione knew the information.

"The Hope Diamond, Ronald," Hermione said, much more patiently than before. "The Muggles of France, the royal family, rather, had ownership of it, before the French Revolution, and, while they were imprisoned at the Temple, there was a five-day looting spree, and the diamond itself was not recovered, although most pieces were in the future," she went on, in her most proper lecture voice. "Fleur likely thinks she's a worthy candidate for ownership of the ring, since she's French, when, if it's all the same to you, it should really go to Ginny, or to Draco, when he proposes to Ginny," Hermione said, flashing Ginny a smile.

Ginny smiled at Hermione and shook her head. "Although it's lovely, Hermione, I think the dark gray color would clash with my hair. It would look far more suitable to your coloring, and I think Mum should give it to Ron to give to you."

"Okay," Ron said, looking uncomfortable as he broke away from Harry and threw up his hands in annoyance. "Let's move on, then, shall we?"

"I think not," Draco replied, and pulled Ginny closer to him. "Ginny and I have discussed marriage, of course, given that there's a war on."

"Now, we're not engaged," Ginny said, as Ron, Fred, and George immediately took a step towards Draco in confrontation, "but we intend to be at some point in the future."

"Just as long as you're not too close," Ron said through gritted teeth.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "For Merlin's sake, Ron! It's none of your business!"

"Does Draco know that your first snog was Neville?!" Ron bellowed, and Fred, George, Harry, and Hermione all put their heads into their hands.

"Yes," Ginny replied, her tone clipped, "and he doesn't mind. Just like I don't mind that his first snog was Pansy Parkinson. Neville is happy and with Luna, and Pansy is whatever she is and with Blaise. Draco and I trust one another, and we're very happy."

"Still..." Ron muttered, crossing his arms.

"How about you and Hermione, then?" Ginny demanded, fixing Ron with an annoyed expression as she clearly knew something Ron did not. "Have you two been honest with one another about first snogs and such?!"

Hermione turned white as milk then, and Harry swallowed, knowing that, clearly, the pair of them hadn't been honest with one another. "Ginny," came her whisper, almost as if she was subtly wishing she still had her Time-Turner, in an effort to stop this conversation before it had even begun.

Ginny flushed then, almost as if she had realized her mistake, before she turned back to Ron with an impressive glare. "Stay the hell out of my relationship!" she shouted and ran off, down the complex-looking garden path, with Draco immediately behind her.

"Um..." Fred said, his tone awkward.

"Gred, why don't we go and see what Kreacher's got in the kitchen for afternoon tea?" George said, equally uncomfortable.

"Sounds lovely, Forge," Fred answered, and the twins immediately scuttled off into Grimmauld Place without looking back.

"Harry," Ron said softly, although his gaze was fully trained upon Hermione, "please tell me that Ginny was full of it, and I've nothing to worry about."

Harry immediately stepped backwards at that, a lump rising in his throat at the two pairs of brown eyes locked on one another. "Um, I don't think I should—"

"You're exactly right, there, Harry," Hermione assured him, although she never took her gaze off from Ron's face. "Don't say a word."

"Don't listen to her, Harry," Ron continued, his gaze locked upon his girlfriend. "Tell me right now, as my best mate. Tell me right now that Hermione didn't kiss that...that..."

"Harry, don't you dare!" Hermione said; she was visibly trembling now, tears frozen upon her lashes, and she spoke through gritted teeth. "Say nothing, Harry. Nothing."

"Then you say it, Hermione," Ron replied, his voice deathly calm, which was almost as worse as him shouting at her. "Tell me, Hermione. Right now."

"Fine!" Hermione shouted, almost as if she was on her last nerve. "I snogged Viktor at the Yule Ball, Ron!"

Ron's gaze turned thunderous. "You did?" he asked, his tone clipped.

"I was devastated that night, Ron! I even told you that you'd spoiled everything, or didn't you remember that little detail on what was supposed to be a very special evening?" she went on, in as many tears as she'd been in on the night in question. "Viktor and I, after you and Harry went upstairs—after proclaiming that I was getting scarier as I got older—went outside for a walk. He considerately transfigured my gown and heels into more appropriate clothing... It was just a top, jeans, and a sweater, along with some snow boots, in case you were wondering. He even managed to get me a hat, scarf, and gloves, he was so talented and thoughtful..." She sighed then, wrapping her arms around herself as she shook her head. "We walked outside, and the snow was so beautiful that night—like frozen crystals upon every surface, and even more expertly-cut ones falling down from the sky and through the air. He took my hand in his and told me that he had never met a girl like me before, and that he was so happy I'd agreed to come with him that night, and I told him what you'd been saying all night. He said I should never let someone treat me that way, and he was right, Ron, he was right," Hermione went on, her voice cracking. "We got onto the grounds and just stared at the frozen lake, talking, talking, talking... And then he just leaned down and kissed me, and I kissed him back, because, in that moment, there was nothing and no one other than me and Viktor—Viktor and his soft, quiet, kind, and considerate nature. He summoned two mugs of hot chocolate from the Hogwarts kitchens, and we sipped it, while sitting on a bench, which he'd placed a Warming Charm upon. And then, when curfew arrived, he walked me back to the Fat Lady's portrait, and kissed me in the cheek goodnight. It was a lovely evening to a night you'd successfully managed to ruin for me, all due to your petty jealousy, and your unwillingness to realize that someone would have asked me, and your pigheadedness to assume that you could have asked me as a last resort." She brushed the tears from her eyes then, and straightened up. "I think I'm going to use the Floo to get back to my parents' house," she said, and turned to look at Harry. "Harry, I shall see you tomorrow afternoon at the Burrow for your birthday, assuming that I am still welcome to attend the festivities that are already being planned."

Harry nodded at her. "Of course you are, 'Mione," he said gently.

Hermione gave him a short nod, looking as if she wanted to approach Harry to hug him but, seeing as Ron was standing so close, decided against it. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said softly, and spun on her heel, her bushy hair pluming out and around her as she headed into the house; the screen door attached to the back door was open, and so Harry and Ron could hear her as she trekked down the hallway and into the living room, and as the flames of the Floo swallowed her up shortly thereafter.

"Have I been a prat?" Ron asked after a few moments of silence.

Harry turned and regarded Ron then and sighed. "My opinion is that, yes, Ron. You've been a total and complete prat. However, you've got to decide for yourself what kind of man you're going to be. A man with Hermione Granger upon his arm, or a man without Hermione Granger upon his arm," he said softly, before he moved out of the backyard to join Fred and George in the kitchen with Kreacher and Dobby.

~*~

Harry was feeling slightly apprehensive the following morning on several accounts; one, Remus, according to Sirius, was still weak from the transformation the night before, and didn't have the strength to attend Harry's birthday celebrations at the Burrow; two, Ron hadn't mentioned Hermione since their argument the afternoon before, and Harry was growing concerned that they would be at each other's throats the moment they saw one another again; and three, because of the letter he had gotten from Severus that morning, via a Hogwarts owl, wishing him a happy birthday, and letting him know that he would come and see him later that evening.

Harry and Severus had discussed his upcoming birthday celebrations at the Burrow and, naturally, Harry wanted Severus there. However, Severus informed Harry that, due to only Bill and Draco knowing about the two of them, they had to create the illusion that they still very much hated one another, and so his attendance at the party would be suspect. Severus promised to make it up to him in the letter, however, and Harry could think of several things the potions master could do to make it up to him completely.

After Harry was put into the new outfit that Draco and Sirius had gotten for him, Harry joined the two of them downstairs that afternoon, just before they were due to depart for the Burrow. It had been quiet in Grimmauld, after Hermione had stormed out the day before, with Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George returning to the Burrow shortly thereafter. He had heard Sirius speaking to Molly that morning, informing him that, despite tensions running high, the birthday celebrations were still on. Harry had made up a list for Molly, in the wake of Sirius gaining custody of him just before term ended, of people he wanted at the party—this included, other than the Weasleys, Hermione, Draco, Sirius, and Tonks, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Susan Bones, Lavender Brown, Oliver Wood, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson, who had all consented to attending the celebrations. Even Viktor Krum had been sent an invitation, and Harry was slightly apprehensive that the Bulgarian Quidditch player had accepted, given the information that Hermione had bestowed upon both him and Ron the day before, and Harry mentally crossed his fingers that more arguments could be avoided. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were invited as well, and they were, apparently, very much looking forward to visiting the Burrow for the first time.

Harry Floo'd over to the Burrow with Sirius and Draco just behind him, and stumbled into the living room of the Weasley home. Sirius immediately casted Cleaning Charms upon both teenagers as Harry was then yanked into Molly's embrace, and kissed on the cheek. She told him that she was just putting the finishing touches on the luncheon, and to go outside where the other guests had gathered for conversation and the like. Harry smiled at Molly and nodded, watching as she greeted both Sirius and Draco, before he headed outside into the bright Devon sunshine, and had to shield his eyes for a moment.

"Harry!"

Looking up, Harry's eyes widened considerably as many of the guests ran towards him, with Hermione at the front. Harry immediately opened his arms for her to fly into, watching as Ginny and Draco pretty much launched themselves at one another as well. Harry looked around, and saw that Ron was hanging back, and so he whispered, "How are things going?" to Hermione, and found that he was nervous about her answer.

"They're going," she whispered back. "He's apologized for being a prat, and we're still together, but it's going to take some time..."

"Of course," Harry told her. "I'm always here, you know."

"I know, Harry," Hermione assured him, squeezing him one last time before letting him go. "But today is all about you," she said with a grin. "Come on. So many people want to say hello, and they shouldn't be kept waiting."

Harry was then hugged by Ron, Luna, Lavender, Susan Bones, Hagrid, Tonks, Fleur, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. He was clapped on the back by Fred and George, Neville, Dean and Seamus, Bill, and Draco. And then, his hand was shaken by Arthur, Oliver Wood, Viktor Krum, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody (whom he hadn't invited directly, but was nevertheless glad to see two additional members of the Advance Guard who had taken him away from Privet Drive for the last time), Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore, who was he equally surprised but glad to see, although it just made him miss Severus all the more. Nevertheless, he kept a smile firmly glued to his face as he was systematically passed around from one guest to the other, until he was ushered to the table beneath a lovely tent set up on the grounds, where he was ultimately placed in the spot for the guest of honor, with Ron and Hermione seated on either side of him and thus, opposite one another.

Harry looked up as Molly came out of the kitchen, various luncheon dishes levitated around her, and holding onto a massive platter which housed a rather large cake with delicious-looking chocolate frosting. Harry smiled at the display, and couldn't help but gasp when several intricately-wrapped gifts came floating out the door behind her. He watched as Arthur conjured a cherry wood table in the back corner of the tent, about a yard away from Harry, where Molly banished the gifts. She then scattered the food dishes around the table—they included platters of various sandwiches, a roast chicken, a roast turkey, a large-sized brisket, spaghetti and meatballs, boiled and mashed and roasted potatoes, roasted asparagus, roasted carrots, a delectable-looking green salad with a variety of dressings to choose from, stuffed mushrooms, an incredible-looking cheese soufflé, scotch eggs, Yorkshire pudding, fresh bread, French onion soup, a vegetable stew, and condiments of all kinds.

Harry was promptly given a plate and many of the dishes were handed over to him, and he managed to take some of everything, coming to the conclusion that Molly had charmed the plates with an Extension Charm. It amused Harry greatly as he tucked into his lunch, and found that he enjoyed everything he ate, save for the raspberry vinaigrette he sampled for his salad, as he found it far too vinegary for his taste. He complimented Molly on the dishes, however, and saw that his surrogate mother was beaming at the things he said. He was also quick to notice the French pastries that Fleur had made—rose des sables, éclairs, macaroons, and Madeleine cakes—all of which he devoured with gusto, complimenting Fleur as he went, to which Fleur visibly pinked at the praise.

Harry hadn't remembered a more pleasant day he'd had, and it was certainly one of the better birthdays he'd had as well. The gifts were just as exciting—books from Hermione, Quidditch supplies from Ron, joke products from Fred and George, a special comb for Hedwig from Hagrid, Transfiguration textbooks from Professor McGonagall for the following term, a good supply of lemon drops from Dumbledore, and many others that he couldn't bother to rightly remember, although he thanked each guest in turn. Molly then magically sliced up the cake and gave Harry a large slice; he blew out the candle and made a wish—a wish for Severus—and dug into the cake in the next moment. He was feeling quite tired from the ordeal, and Sirius and Draco decided it was high time for them to be getting back to Grimmauld.

After several more rounds of hugs and farewells, Harry went over to the Floo and carefully called out for Grimmauld Place. Once he, Draco, and Sirius were back in the living room, he was given a Cleaning Spell and told he could go up to bed. Harry painstakingly took all of his gifts upstairs, setting them upon his dresser, knowing he would look them over more the following day, and sighed, popping the muscles in his back. He went over to the en suite bathroom and took a shower, allowing the water droplets to cascade over his muscled form, which took the tension out of his muscles.

As soon as Harry had finished, he wrapped a towel around his middle and returned to his bedroom, stopping immediately upon the threshold of the bathroom, mouth agape as he saw Severus standing there, waiting for him. Harry let out a small shout then and charged forward towards the man, who opened his arms for him as the teenager launched into them without a moments' hesitation. Harry's lips found Severus's as he wrapped his legs around the man's middle and rutted into him, their tongues tasting one another's from within their lips.

"I take it that I have been missed," Severus observed, lifting his neck ever so slightly so as Harry could continually pepper kisses along his jaw.

"You've no idea," Harry whispered between kisses, before nuzzling into Severus's neck. "I only wanted you to be there at the party, and..." He deliberately lowered his voice. "...I found that it was growing quite difficult to just sit there and not think of you constantly, given that Molly and Arthur placed the tent and table so very close to the orchard." He raised his eyes then, and stared at Severus from beneath his lashes. "I found myself more than once growing hard at the memory of you stroking me to orgasm for the first time."

Severus's eyes darkened with desire then, and promptly took Harry by the arms and slammed him up against the wall closest to them. "What are you doing to me, Harry?"

Harry blinked. "What?" he whispered.

"You have awakened things in me which I initially believed were long since passed," came the hoarse reply. "I am amazed that I even have such predilections anymore..."

Harry gave the man a small smile. "Well, perhaps I was unaware that I even had such urges in the first place, let alone the ability to evoke such things from others..."

Severus sneered. "There was your encounter with Charles Weasley..."

"An encounter which I hardly asked for, let alone wanted," Harry responded quickly. "I had a brief attraction to him, I admit that, and a genuine one for Cedric, although the latter was so hopelessly heterosexual that I would have never had an opportunity to let him know my feelings without royally embarrassing myself."

Severus gave a shallow nod. "Yes, I see."

Harry arched himself up against Severus then, and wound his arms carefully around the man's neck. "Why can you not see it that it is you that I want?" he whispered.

Severus lowered his eyes. "I am old, Harry, and I am ugly, not to mention that I must appear on paper as a servant to the Dark Lord, and how the world perceives our relationship, given the way I've been treating you in a public setting since you arrived at Hogwarts..."

"First of all, you are not old—you are the same age as Remus and Sirius, as well as the age my parents would be, so no, not old at all," Harry replied firmly. "And you are not ugly, I find you to be incredibly sexy, if I am being honest with you," he continued. "As for your relationship with Riddle, I know that you are a spy for the Light, and are just as much Dumbledore's man as I am, if not more."

"And the way I must treat you in public?" Severus asked.

"You are merely playing a part," Harry said softly. "Even though I'm not looking forward to the points you're obligated to take—or what you've got to say to me to convince your Slytherins, save for Draco, how committed you are to the Dark—I know now that you don't mean it, any of it, not in truth. You care about me, as I care about you, and I won't permit anyone to potentially drive a wedge between the two of us."

Severus blinked. "Harry?"

"I don't know if it's love," Harry said softly, hating himself for being honest. "But it's the closest I've ever come to it." He sighed, shoulders slacking slightly. "I've had my entire life mapped out for me, ever since Riddle killed my parents, and marked me that night, when I was fifteen-months-old. I'm tired of falling in line and just obeying them, all because they say it's what I should do, or how I should feel, or how I should act. No. I want to do something for myself, for once in my life, and I want to spend as long a time with you as we've got."

Severus stroked Harry's back. "I don't know if it's love either," he admitted. "However, you have truly awakened something within me, my Harry. I don't know what tomorrow, or next week, next month, or even next year will bring. However, I do know that war is just on the horizon, and we must take great care in whatever this is between the two of us. It must be kept a great secret, and I know you understand the reasons why. However, I believe that we are in accord with staying together, which is something I deeply wish to do as well."

"I meant what I said, you know," Harry said softly, "about us going to France. You've never been, and neither have I. Once this is over, we should go... Sirius took me to Gringotts during our shopping spree at Diagon, and it appears that I've got some houses. Other than the cottage at Godric's Hollow, which I can't imagine ever living in, due to what happened there, I also have a blackhouse in Scotland, a château in France, a villa in Italy, a farm in Germany, and a property in Bulgaria with a castle," he said, and rolled his eyes at the extravagance of the Potter family in centuries past. "I propose, once I am of age and this damned war is over, you accompany me to Gringotts, and we decide where to live together."

Severus's eyes widened at that. "Harry, you cannot allow me to..."

"I can, Severus, and I will," Harry said firmly. "I plan on remaining with you for as long as you shall have me, and we'll have to live somewhere during our lives together."

Severus leaned down then, bracing his forehead against Harry's. "I was under the impression that I would be the one proposing."

Harry felt himself heating all over at the notion that Severus was interested in marrying him, but knew he had to be diplomatic about this. "You still can," he whispered, wondering how he was able to speak at all. "Whenever you want, Severus. There's no rush."

Severus pulled back then, which allowed him to stare down into Harry's intoxicating green eyes as he smiled slowly down at him. "I adore you," he proclaimed.

Harry flushed once again. "As do I, my Severus. As do I."

Severus made sweet, sweet love to Harry up against the very wall they stood against, and Harry found that he liked the position very much, given that Severus seemed to know just the right angle in which to snap his hips, ensuring that he collided with Harry's prostate over and over again. As the potions master blanketed Harry's insides with his release, he stared at the spent teenager, and knew in that very moment that he could never let Harry go. As Harry turned his face upwards to kiss Severus again, he too knew that he couldn't give Severus up.

Severus let Harry down as the interlude ended, casting a Cleaning Charm upon the two of them, and waited for Harry to pull on a pair of boxers and a shirt to sleep in. Harry then took him by the hand and led his out of his bedroom, intent upon seeing his lover to the Floo. However, in the hallway outside of the living room, things came to a momentary standstill, as Sirius was just coming out of the kitchen.

"Snape?" Sirius asked, cocking his head to one side. "What are you...?" He took the opportunity to look them both up and down, and saw Harry standing there, holding the man's hand, wearing nothing but boxers and a shirt. His lips were bruised, and his face was flushed, and Sirius almost immediately came to the conclusion—the correct one, mind you—of what had happened. "How could you, Snivellus?!" Sirius shouted, knocking Severus backwards so that he collided with the wall behind them, his hand ripped from Harry's.

"Sirius!" Harry shouted, yanking his godfather backwards and moving to stand in between the two of them, as Severus cradled his head, and Sirius glared menacingly down at the two of them, yet Harry stood his ground. "Leave him alone!"

"Harry, I know that Severus must have told you that..."

"He hasn't said or done anything that I haven't wanted!" Harry yelled.

Sirius shook his head then, drawing his wand and shouting, "Finite Incantatem!" at Harry, a red light blasting forth from the tip of his wand, and Harry stood there, still glaring at the man. "You are not under a spell?" he whispered.

"No, of course I'm not!" Harry said, turning around then and helping Severus painstakingly to his feet. "Severus would never do that to me."

Sirius's eyes flashed at the closeness that Harry and Severus clearly exhibited. "I won't stand for this," he growled then, and stomped out of the room.

Harry attempted to guide Severus into the living room, so as the man could utilize the Floo Network and return to Hogwarts, but the orange flames suddenly roared and turned green, and out of the Floo came Dumbledore, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and "Mad-Eye" Moody. Harry immediately stood in front of Severus at the dark looks he received from the Hogwarts headmaster and three Aurors, and Sirius came into the room immediately thereafter, his dark blue eyes filled with rage.

"Thank you for responding to my emergency Patronus so quickly," he said, addressing those who had just exited the Floo. "This man," he went on, jabbing a shaking finger in Severus's direction, "has defiled my godson, and my godson is under the impression that such an act was a consensual one."

"It was, it was!" Harry shouted, not knowing what else to do or say. "Sirius is just saying all this because he doesn't like Severus! Please, don't listen to his prejudices, any of you!" he cried out, knowing that he was losing the battle, based on their expressions, but he wouldn't allow himself to give up on Severus. "Severus is the bravest man I've ever known, and I won't allow you to drag his name through the mud, I won't!"

"Sirius, perhaps this would be better if you took Harry upstairs to his bedroom," Dumbledore said, his eyes flat, and without emotion.

"Certainly," Sirius replied, and systematically yanked Harry backwards and away from Severus, and proceeded to drag him out of the room.

"No, no!" Harry shouted, struggling to get away.

"Since your misdeeds cannot go unpunished, Severus, I hereby strip you of your position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Dumbledore said, his tone grave. "Aurors, I believe he is your problem now," he went on, and slipped back into the flames without a backward glance at the man.

"Albus?" Severus whispered.

"Severus..." Harry sobbed, gripping onto the doorframe of the living room. He struggled in vain to get out of Sirius's hold, but there was nothing he could do.

"In accordance with Wizarding Law," Moody said gravely, standing up as straight as he possibly could, "the coming of age of any witch or wizard is seventeen. As Harry James Potter is only sixteen, and I can only imagine that this torrid affair began far before his birthday—given his rapid defense of you—you have thusly violated that law."

"As such," Kingsley continued, and Harry could plainly see that the man was not enjoying this matter at all, "as you have been stripped of your teaching position and other jobs at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, justice must be carried out."

"You will surrender your wand," Tonks said, obviously struggling to hold it together, "and be remanded into our custody, where we will transport you directly to Azkaban, where you will await your trial before the Wizengamot, for committing lewd acts upon a minor, statutory rape, and coercion," she finished.

"No, he didn't do any of that!" Harry shouted, as Moody snapped his fingers, and took Severus's wand away from him. "He didn't do what you claim he did!"

"Quiet your godson, Black," Moody said, glaring at Harry with his one good eye.

Kingsley snapped his fingers next, and all the potions that Severus regularly kept concealed in his robes flew out then, whereupon he shrank them and put them into his own pockets. "There, that is done, then."

Tonks snapped her fingers next, although it appeared to sicken her to do so, and a pair of magical handcuffs bound Severus's hands behind his back. "Now that we've got you subdued, we will Apparate directly to the wizarding prison," she said softly.

"No, no!" came the screams, which tore from Harry's throat. "You can't arrest him, you can't! I won't let you!"

"Harry, let the Aurors do their job," Sirius commanded from behind him. "I will not stand for this childish behavior any longer."

"Shut up, Sirius, shut up!" Harry yelled, turning around then smacking Sirius across the face, which stunned the man just enough for Harry to run forward, and clasp at Severus's hands, and stared deeply into his onyx eyes. "Don't forget," he whispered, trying to keep a handle on his feelings and failing miserably. "Promise me you won't forget..."

Severus gave a tight nod. "Never," he whispered back.

Harry was then grabbed roughly from behind by Sirius then, and he shouted in pain—both physical and emotional—as he watched Severus being dragged outside to Apparate, and as he himself was pulled up the staircase, where he was then locked in his bedroom. Harry let out scream after scream then, destroying his bedroom with accidental magic, his throat raw by the time it was all over, whereupon he collapsed in a heap upon the floor. He couldn't even bother to get up and lie in the bed as he trembled, tears blinding his vision, as blackness immediately proceeded to take over.

~*~

It had been a little over a week since the Aurors had come for Severus, and Harry had spent most of his time in his bedroom. After that first night, Sirius had unlocked his door and attempted to speak to him, but Harry had refused to even look at the man. Draco had tried next, and while Harry still wasn't in the mood to talk, he did listen to Draco's words, and would look at him, his expression a haunted one. Ron and Hermione came from the Burrow and the Granger residence respectively—and Harry noticed they had seemed to have made up—and although his two best friends tried to console him, nothing worked. Ginny tried next, along with the twins, but their calm demeanor, nor their joking attitude, seemed to help matters. When Sirius contacted Molly as a last resort, the only thing the Weasley matriarch seemed to remedy was the fact that Harry had not been eating, which she fixed quickly. Other than that, Harry was not receptive to anyone, and so, they finally decided to leave him alone.

It was when Dumbledore arrived that Harry finally showed a spark of emotion, and glared at the man who had stood before him, the man who had stripped away Severus's protection, the man who had decided to withhold complete happiness from Harry. Harry continued to glare at him for several moments, before he turned his back on the man. He immediately reached out and began to stroke at Hedwig, who had been his constant companion since Severus had been taken from him, and she was entirely patient with him after the ordeal. In fact, she would screech whenever someone came too close to her master, and Harry constantly had to hide his smiles from the protective nature of his familiar.

"Harry, my boy, acting in such a way is completely counterproductive," the headmaster informed him, and Harry felt his hackles rising, for the man seemed to harbor no remorse for what he had done to Severus. "Anyhow, I've come here to Grimmauld to take you somewhere."

"And what makes you think," Harry began, his voice slightly scratchy and rough from lack of use, "that I would consent to go anywhere with you?"

"I don't believe I gave you a choice in the matter," Dumbledore replied smartly, before he advanced upon Harry, and took him by the arm, effortlessly lifting him up from his seat at his desk, and Hedwig let out a call of warning. "Come, Harry. Let us not waste any more time, shall we?"

Harry grimaced, refusing to look at the man. "You've manipulated my entire life thus far," he said quietly. "What is one more matter?"

"Excellent," Dumbledore replied.

There was a crack then, and Harry came to the direct conclusion that Dumbledore had Side-Along Apparated him, but didn't question it further. He felt like he might be sick, but somehow managed not to be ill in... Well, wherever it was they were. Upon closer inspection, he noted that it was a classy-looking area, far nicer than that of Privet Drive, but allowed himself to look around the area, in an effort to avoid speaking to Dumbledore further. He turned his head as the man began walking towards one of the houses, so Harry came to the conclusion that he had a destination in mind, and followed him.

"Wands out, Harry," came Dumbledore's voice, more subdued than it had been, back in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place, as they stepped through the front gate and onto the path, which led to the front door.

Harry watched, wand out this time, as Dumbledore climbed the stars from the path and onto the porch, and pushed at the front door, which gave way almost immediately. He noted that there were specs of red upon the floor, and took it to mean that there had been an attack there recently, due to the obvious presence of blood. And then, the notion that a finely-upholstered chair in the parlor seemed to have a pair of house slippers growing out from beneath it was a dead giveaway, Harry assumed, and as Dumbledore stepped forward, he poked the piece of furniture—or whatever it was—and it sprang apart.

"Merlin's beard!" came the shout of the rather portly man from within, his silvery eyes taking in the scene before him as he straightened himself up. "Albus, really? Can a man not come up with more creative ways to sleep?" he asked, putting himself to rights, as he straightened out the pale purple silk of his dressing gown and pajamas.

"Ah, Horace, perhaps you had better explain yourself," Dumbledore said gently.

"A Muggle residence," the man replied, shrugging his shoulders. "They're vacationing in the Canary Islands, and I myself saw it as a divine opportunity to..."

"To hide out?" Dumbledore guessed, and Harry looked back and forth between them, wondering what this man could possibly need to hide from.

"All right, all right," came the snarky reply as he leaned back against the wall closest to the chair he'd successfully dismantled. "The Death Eaters have been trying to recruit me for almost a year," he admitted, and Harry stiffened at the man's words. "You can only say 'no' so many times before you come off as a rude individual..."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore replied with a nod. "Well, these Muggles likely wouldn't appreciate you demolishing their living room in such a way. Perhaps we can set it to rights for them," he went on, and waved his wand about, whereupon the blood vanished, a light popped on, and the various pieces of upended furniture righted themselves. "That was fun," the man observed before turning back towards Harry and the unknown man. "Harry, I would like to formally introduce you to an old college of mine—Horace Slughorn. Horace... Well," Dumbledore went on with a smile, "you know who this is."

The man called Slughorn looked Harry over fondly. "Harry Potter," he said, and nodded his head in approval, before his eyes snapped back to Dumbledore. "I take it you've come here to inquire again about the position, Albus, but my answer is still 'no'."

Dumbledore bowed his head. "Very well, Horace. I'll go and use the loo, shall I?" he asked, before slipping out of the parlor.

Slughorn looked Harry over once again. "You're quite like your father," he said, as Harry stood before him awkwardly. "Except for the eyes, of course. You have..."

"My mother's eyes, yeah," Harry said uncomfortably.

"Lily. Lovely Lily," Slughorn replied. "One of the brightest witches of her time, which is remarkable, considering that she was Muggleborn."

Harry shifted inelegantly on his feet, staring at the man in shock. "One of my best friends is Muggleborn," he replied, immediately coming to the defense of Hermione. "She's the best in our year. I would think anyone would be lucky to teach her..."

"Oh, please don't think I'm prejudiced, no, no, no," Slughorn interrupted him quickly, and shook his salt and pepper head. "Your mother was one of my absolute favorites. Look! There she is now," he said, and nodded in the direction of a buffet-like table, and Harry stepped forward, and took in the wizarding photographs there. "All mine," Slughorn went on, coming up behind him to explain, "ex-students, I mean." He then pointed out various photos—Harry's mother, Gwenog Jones who was Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, and there was even one of Regulus, and Harry was slightly taken aback when Slughorn informed him that he hadn't taught Sirius, but he decided not to dwell on it.

"Well, Horace," came Dumbledore's voice as he returned into the parlor, "as I cannot seem to persuade you otherwise, Harry and I must be getting along now. Harry?" the man said, and Harry promptly moved to leave with Dumbledore.

"Wait, wait," Slughorn said as they stepped outside. "All right. I'll return. But I will be requesting a raise, and I want Professor Merrythought's old office! The one you put me in the last time was as tiny as a water closet!" he said with a grumble, before slamming the front door behind him.

Harry and Dumbledore said nothing to one another, and Dumbledore sent him back to Grimmauld Place without a word. He returned into his bedroom and went into the attached bathroom to have a shower. As he stood beneath the head of the thing, he found he didn't know where the shower water began and his tears ended.

~*~

Harry—

Sirius tells me that you've refused to leave your bedroom, other than for that secret meeting that Headmaster Dumbledore took you upon. And before you ask, the answer is no. Neither Sirius nor I know what the headmaster needed you for, although he did ask Sirius's permission before bringing you along.

I hear that you've been quiet for the most part since Snape was taken away. I am sorry that I could not have been there for you. Although I agree that Snape clearly did something wrong by blatantly ignoring Wizarding Law, I think the way it was handled was too dark. There should have been a compromise, however, the Wizengamot has made it abundantly clear that werewolves have no place within our government.

With term beginning tomorrow, I am sure you're anxious for your sixth-year to begin. I heard that Sirius allowed you and Draco to meet Ron and Hermione in Diagon Alley a week ago to get your school supplies. Was it true that Flourish and Blotts only had three copies of Advanced Potion Making left? You should have complained to the management, Harry, and not allowed Ron, Hermione, and Draco to take the last copies. Something could have been done, but I am quite sure that it will be remedied ultimately.

I wanted you to be the first to know that Dumbledore has requested that I return to Hogwarts for the autumn term to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. You will, of course, be permitted to come by for tea with Ron and Hermione whenever you wish. Tonks will be coming along as well for various visits, and I would like the three of you to get to know her better. She is quite an impressive Auror in her own right, and I think this could be the real thing.

I shall see you at the welcoming feast tomorrow night, Harry. Try to enjoy your final hours of the summer holidays. I know that Sirius is very remorseful for the turn of events, and all he wants is to have you back. Please, don't take his judgement too harshly—he was merely looking out for your best interests, as was the headmaster.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

Harry folded up the letter and placed it back onto his desk. Hedwig had delivered to him two letters that afternoon, with the first being one from Hermione. Hermione had told him that Severus wasn't due to return to the castle for next term, and although Harry knew that Severus had been stripped of his position, the thought still mortified him. He hadn't heard of any recent developments in The Daily Profit either, which worried him to no end.

As he got to his feet to finalizing his packing for his return to Hogwarts the following day, he moved his Sneakoscope around in his trunk, before lifting it for a moment. when a revelation hit him suddenly then, the detector crashed to the ground, shattering everywhere. Harry recalled how, in third-year when Remus had taught Defense the first time, how it was in his contract that Severus would brew Wolfsbane for him.

Now that Severus was no longer on the staff at Hogwarts, how was Remus supposed to get the invaluable potion? He knew enough about the potion makers at St. Mungo's from Severus that they were, at best, adequate. Severus was the best brewer the country—or the Wizarding World—had ever seen, and Harry had gone and given in to his desires instead of forcing the man to wait, once he made a play for him.

Harry felt as if he had been to blame for all that had happened over the past month. If only he and Severus had waited, or, perhaps, had been more careful, none of these tragic events could have happened. They could have been content with merely discussing their feelings and planning out their future and, instead, they were separated forcibly, and Severus was no longer given the protection of Hogwarts or Dumbledore.

Harry knelt down and began to tidy up the pieces of the Sneakoscope, wondering if Hermione could repair it for him the following day, and knew then that the pieces of glass symbolized his life perfectly.