Ron's trip to France came and went quickly, with many Polaroid pictures coming back with him in the wake of Victoire's baptism. There were many shots of him proudly holding her at the church and at the gatherings throughout the weekend, and a few of him with Gabrielle who seemed to be enjoying the event immensely. Upon Ron's return, he presented Hermione with a first-edition copy of Les Misérables by Victor Hugo, and, for Harry, a copy of Studies on Fermentation: The Diseases of Beer, Their Causes, and the Means of Preventing Them by Louis Pasteur. Both Harry and Hermione were touched by this unexpected gesture, as they had merely expected an account of the trip and seeing the snapshots.

It was late-April now, so the sun was making more of an appearance within local weather reports, and the school was calming down significantly after midterm examinations had passed without a hitch. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were also looking forward for the yearly weekend trip down to the Water of Leith, which included days in specially built cabins close to the water's edge, all for the school, and swimming, lots of swimming. This year, Harry had plenty of new clothes to choose from for the trip; it was only for Year Ten students and up, and not every professor would be going; it would only be Professors Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick making the journey, as Headmaster Dumbledore was needed to look after the younger-years, who would be staying behind at Wartsmoth.

Harry and Ron packed their belongings the night before the trip together, letting the other know which bathing trunks would be better, and had finally finished by eleven that night. The departure time for the trip the following day was eight in the morning, where they would get into vans provided by the government, which would drive them to the site of the field trip. Breakfast was served from six to seven that morning, and you were expected to gather your things and put them outside and await for the vans no later than seven-forty-five. The drive itself was a bit less than twenty minutes, and you were expected to unpack and set up your beds upon arrival; you were to bring sheets, blankets, and a minimum of one pillow, to be put onto your bed of choice for the weekend.

Harry and Ron ate breakfast with Hermione, Anthony, Neville, Draco, Ginny, Dean, Luna, and Rolf that morning, and, as soon as the porridge was scraped off the bottom of their bowls and the last fragments of eggs were consumed, they went to fetch their bags. They were assigned a specific van, like always, and were soon driven through the forest, past the water itself, until the arrived at the site. Hopping out of the van, they made their way to their assigned cabin; that year, Harry and Ron would be bunking with Neville and Dean; another cabin would house Anthony, Neville, Draco, and Rolf; while one of the girls' cabins was due to hold Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Pansy.

Harry took out his crimson-colored sheets and immediately began making up his bed; he adorned it with the matching crimson duvet, and the two pillows with identical shams he'd brought. He looked over his shoulder, seeing that Ron had Manchester United-themed bedding, while Neville had moss-green bedding, and Dean had gold. Once they'd finished and stowed their duffels underneath their beds, they were instructed to change out of their school uniforms and into something appropriate for the mid-morning hike. The purpose of the hike was to get the students of Wartsmoth Academy reacquainted with the area itself, so as to ensure that they wouldn't get lost over the next couple of days.

Harry watched with a smirk as Neville and Draco proceeded to run towards one another, giving the other a tight embrace. They'd been separated because of their relationship, Harry saw that, and even though he understood it from a professors' point of view, he strongly hoped that there wouldn't be further dividers put between the young men. He looked around, seeing the Ginny and Dean had found one another, as had Hermione and Anthony, and Pansy and Blaise. Luna and Rolf had wandered ahead towards the edge of the woods together, and he wasn't surprised to see that Lavender and Seamus were having a rather intimate conversation.

"About time," Ron muttered. "Glad to be shot of her."

Harry nodded at Ron as the trooped over to the edge of the woods. He stood where he and the rest of the students had been directed as Professor Sprout went over the rules and regulations of the hike. You were encouraged not to dawdle, naturally; there was to be no untoward shoving or physical contact, but those in relationships were perfectly allowed to walk together or hold hands throughout; and the hike would last a couple of hours. Harry remembered the previous year about how, after the hike came lunch, and then some downtime before the late-afternoon swimming took over until dinnertime.

Harry and Ron kept up a conversation as they wandered through the woods, discussing France and the upcoming summer vacation, due to happen in two months. Harry was well-aware at how serious Remus and Dora were, and wasn't sure what the summer would hold. He thanked Ron in advance for Molly's invitation to come and stay in Devon, and although he didn't have a formal answer at this point, leaving it open-ended, knew that he wouldn't mind staying at the Weasley home yet again.

"Bet Neville's telling Draco all about the flora and fauna," Ron said quietly.

Harry grinned. "Well, Draco knew what he liked before they got together."

"Suffice it to say, he's been warned," Ron said with a laugh.

They did a large circle within the hike, and soon they were heading back to the cabins. Professor Sprout said that they had time to shower before lunch, and Harry and Ron thought that that was an excellent idea. They returned to the cabin, finding it empty since Neville and Draco, as well as Ginny and Dean, had likely wandered off to snog somewhere. Harry then darted for the loo, but Ron won, laughing heartily as he snapped Harry with his towel. Harry cursed at his best mate in a noncommittal manner before flopping down onto his bed to wait.

Harry and Ron didn't take long in either of their showers, and were pleased at the stacks of various sandwiches that awaited them in the nearby canteen afterwards. Harry wore a green polo shirt which brought out his eyes, and a pair of jeans that Remus had bought him but hadn't worn yet, along with a new pair of trainers. He chewed his sandwich while sitting beside Ron, and felt a pair of eyes on him as he did so. Turning his head, he spotted Severus, sitting at the small round table for the staff at the back of the room, gazing at him openly, and Harry felt his face flush before he returned to tucking into his lunch.

Harry waited the customary hour after eating lunch before swimming, and returned to his cabin to read the book that Ron had gotten him in France to wait. His watch went off when the hour was up, and he hastily changed into the green swimming trunks, and put his matching green towel on over his shoulder, and stepped into his swim shoes. He left the cabin carefully and walked towards the footpath, which led directly to the water. Through the high grass around it, he could spot his fellow students, already in the water, and smirked to himself as he made his way down there. He lay his towel down in the grass, beside Ron's, and kicked off his shoes with ease, before making a run for the water's edge and dove right in.

He found himself at ease for the first time in a long time; it was different than drinking at Ron's birthday party. This was actually fun that Harry was legally allowed to have, given that he was old enough to be in the water without wings or another hindrance of some kind. His black hair was sticking to his forehead, and he laughed, dodging a splash that Ron had aimed at him, and aimed right back at his best mate. Soon, everyone around them was indulging in a splash fight, and the various shrieks and screams attracted the attention of the professors but, once they all realized it was all in good fun, they decided to leave the teenagers to their own devices.

Harry soon grew tired of the splashing and moved away, paddling around in the middle portion of the water, where it wasn't too shallow or too deep. It was nice to flex his muscles in this way, for there was no pool at Wartsmoth Academy. Of course, he lifted weights whenever he could, which was usually thirty minutes before he went to bed. He was proud of his body, and even though he wasn't playing football anymore, he had kept up in his physique, and he thought he wasn't half bad to look at.

Harry lay out on his back, the water lapping at his limbs, cooling them, and stared up at the blue sky, streaked slightly with wisps of pure white clouds. He breathed steadily then, relaxing upon the surface, gently kicking his legs to keep himself afloat. He nibbled at his lower lip, remembering Ron's absence has been acute during that weekend, and how he had reached out to Severus again but, once again, the professor had rebuffed him. It sent sharp slivers of pain right to his heart, never knowing what the man wanted, and wanting to do everything to ensure that he didn't wreck things. However, he was drawn like a moth to Severus's flame, and he couldn't imagine what life would be like upon graduation, when he wouldn't see him all the time, and the ever-present ache returned.

He lowered himself back down into the water, looking towards the trees, and felt himself flush at the sight before him. His lips parted at the notion that Severus was standing among the trees, just watching him, and he didn't know fully what to make of it. He turned and looked at the rest of the students, who were still busy splashing one another, before he looked back over at Severus, who extended a white index finger, and beckoned to him. Without thinking twice, Harry paddled over to the waters' edge, and Severus promptly hauled him out of the water. He flushed then, as his trunks were molded entirely to his body, leaving very little to the imagination.

Severus said nothing, but slowly let go of Harry's hand, breathing deeply as he extended his fingers outwards to trace Harry's collar bone. He felt Harry shuddering beneath his touch, and he smirked slightly at the sight of the teen's erection from within his trunks. The pad of his thumb moved upwards to gently caress Harry's cheek, followed by the palm of his hand.

Harry's teeth nipped at his lower lip as he watched the movements of his chemistry professor, and then he turned his head, lazily sticking out his tongue, and tasted the palm of the older man's hand. He felt his heartbeat accelerating then; the trees were plenty thick enough around them on all sides, providing them some semblance of privacy, but the fact that they could still hear all the shouts of the students all around them was a bit daunting. Harry sucked in some air to his lungs then and, without moving too much, looked up at Severus, before he tilted his head up and stuck out his tongue again, tracing the outline of his lips.

A shuddering breath escaped his throat then, as Severus's other hand lowered and caressed one of his nipples, which promptly stood at attention. He swallowed, lowering his eyes slightly to watch as Severus brushed it with the back of his knuckles, before he took his thumb and index finger and gently pulled on it. Harry trembled, and was about to cry out, were it not for his quick thinking, and threw his arms around Severus's neck, kissing him, tasting him, anchoring his mouth to his as if it was a salvation, a prayer, a hope for survival.

"Don't..."

"What?" Severus whispered, his hot breath tickling his lips.

"Don't keep pushing me away," Harry begged him, well-aware of how pathetic he sounded, but no longer caring. "I can't take it anymore..."

Severus sighed, putting his forehead against Harry's; his hand, which had previously been grabbing his nipples, had migrated to his shoulder, while the other was skirting on whether or not to cup the teen's arse. "You have awakened things in me, Harry, which I initially believed to be dormant forever."

"Then, let's keep going," Harry breathed, his voice trembling slightly. "I want to..."

"Perhaps if you had paid this much attention to your reading, I wouldn't have to constantly avoid you, Harry."

Harry gasped then, feeling his lower lip quivering. "Why do you always have to do this?" he whispered to him. "Ruining a perfectly good moment..."

"Because, Harry, I'm your professor, and no matter how we spin this, setting your sights on me is, perhaps, the biggest mistake you could make."

"I've made too many mistakes in my life to count, Severus," Harry whispered back, and his professor tightened his grip upon his shoulder at that. "I know by now what a mistake is. This, this right here," he said, his voice shaking then as he took his professor's hand, not the one that gripped his shoulder, and lowered it to his sensitive erection, prompting a soft gasp from the older man, "is not a mistake. It couldn't ever be one."

"Harry, you don't..."

"Please," Harry whispered, angling his hips slightly so as he created friction against Severus's hand, which promptly seemed to close around the delicate organ, "please, I want this. I want this with you..."

"Harry..."

"I don't want anyone else," Harry went on, knowing that something he said might get the results he wanted from him. "I'll never want anyone else. I just want you. Please...please. I want this, right here, right now, with you..."

Severus sighed, his already-weakened resolve weakening further as he slammed Harry up against the tree, capturing his lips with his, and tasting the delicious forbidden fruit of what lay inside Harry's lips. He gently stroked at his erection, and felt the blood surge into his own when he felt Harry moaning into his mouth. It was like he was in a dream, touching Harry like this, and having him move up against him like that. Their hearts were pressed together, beating rather furiously as they sought what they wanted, and Severus found he had never been happier in that moment than he was, right here, right now.

Harry felt the tears pricking at his eyes the moment Severus had kissed him back. He felt himself shaking all over; it wasn't from the fears that his past brought him, but something else entirely. It was the notion of everything that had happened in his past, and his heart broke at the notion of Severus finding out about it, and then rejecting him for his freakish ways. He couldn't, he just couldn't, put someone he cared about through that. He pulled back from Severus then, and, once the black eyes met his, he sighed.

"I can't do this to you," he whispered then, his tone broken, as he tore himself from Severus's arms, ran through the trees and back onto the grass, before he made a grab for his towel and his shoes, before he took off. Running and running as fast as he could, he went to the phone that the students were permitted to use, and dialed a number quickly.

"Hello?"

"Remus, i-it's Harry," he said, his voice shaking.

"Harry? Are you all right?"

"I... I want to go back to school," he said softly, trying not to try.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Please, Remus..."

"All right. I'll come and get you," Remus declared.

Harry hung up the phone and bolted into his cabin, quickly drying himself off and shoving his wet clothes into the swim bag he'd brought. He then changed into something casual, and packed up his things, stripping the bed in one go, and it was then that he heard a knock on the cabin door. He flew to it, opening it, and threw himself into Remus's arms, sobbing, and felt so secure in the man's arms.

"Harry, what's going—?"

"Please, not here," Harry begged him.

Remus nodded. "No problem," he replied, taking ahold of Harry's duffel while Harry kept a grip on his swim bag, and brought the boy towards his car. "I've told Minerva, and she'll make excuses on your behalf. We'll go to the house for the weekend," he said softly.

Harry nodded as he sat in the front of the car. He waited until Remus had shoved his duffel into the boot, and climbed into the drivers' seat and pulled out of there, before he even trusted himself to say a word. "I... I've been kind of..."

"Yes, Harry?"

"I don't know what you'd call it," he said at last. "I mean... You know I'm gay?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, Harry, I know."

"There's a guy," Harry said softly as they got to the main stretch of road.

"Tell me about him."

"He's older," he admitted.

"Older? How old? As old as Rolf?"

Harry shook his head. "Older."

"As old as Fred and George?"

"No. He's older than that."

"Charlie or Bill?"

"Older," Harry whispered.

Remus sighed, but nevertheless kept driving. "As old as me?"

Harry nodded. "He's... Actually just a bit older than you," he said softly.

"Does he know how old you are?"

"He does."

"Have you two...?"

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "I want to, and I think he wants to. I've... I've given him pleasure, you know, orally," he went on, his face flushing, "and we've done it with our clothes on, and he's touched me, through clothes... He... It happened, today..."

Remus pulled off the side of the road then; they were in the final stretch of road before Dean Village, and he knew that yelling at Harry wouldn't solve anything. "Do I know him?"

Harry sighed. "Yes," he admitted.

"And... How do you feel about this man, Harry?"

"I... I think I love him," Harry replied, shocked at how naturally the words had come, and amazed that he felt this way for Severus.

Remus turned and regarded Harry then, almost as if he was attempting to make heads or tails of the situation. "It's Snape, isn't it, Harry?"

Harry nodded, shutting his eyes as the tears continued streaming down his face. "Yes," he whimpered then, fearing what would happen.

"Harry..."

"Please, please don't report him!" Harry shouted then, his eyes snapping open as he turned and looked at Remus. "I know you have to, but just think about it for a minute! We haven't had sex with each other, and I can't... I want to, but I can't..."

Remus reached out then and touched Harry's shoulder. "Because of your trauma?"

"Kind of," Harry whispered. "I just... I can't put someone else through all that, Remus. I... God, I love him so much, and I don't want him to have to..." Harry's voice broke then as he threw himself into Remus's arms, sobbing into his shoulder, feeling comforted at the sense that Remus was truly being a father to him in that moment.

"Do you see a future with him?"

Harry nodded. "Yes," he blubbered. "But I doubt he sees one with me. He... We keep getting closer, and then he pushes me away. Why would he ever want someone like...?"

"He probably thinks you're too young, or too good, or too pure for him," Remus told Harry in a gentle tone. "He must care about you on some level, Harry." He sighed. "And I wouldn't be a very good parent to take that away from you."

Harry pulled back. "What... What are you saying?"

Remus sighed. "Against my better judgement, if you can managed to control yourselves until you're graduated, then I don't see why this has to be a problem."

Harry blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. I'll go to bat for you this time, Harry. We'll say you weren't feeling well. But if this happens again, I'm telling the truth to Albus, and nothing you say or do will stop me. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry sighed, knowing that this was his only chance. "Crystal," he replied.

Remus sighed, squeezing Harry's shoulders for a moment. "Come on," he said, lowering him into the chair beside him. "Let's go home."

. . .

The rest of April and all of May passed with a combination of sessions with Amelia and studying for Harry's final exams. He was relieved when Remus didn't bring up what had happened at the Water of Leith again, and so he was free to focus on his final essays for Russian literature, English, history, and chemistry, as well as his French presentation, and the exams themselves in all of those classes. For art class, he would have to paint something meaningful to him in the final exam two-hour period; for trigonometry, there would be a math exam in packet form which he was not looking forward to; for horticulture, he would be presenting on the plant that he had opted to grow from the start of the year, which was a Red Weeping Tree Rose; and, for physical education, Remus had instructed the students to run around the school grounds.

When the exams had the consideration to finally end themselves, all that remained of the year was collecting his grades. School was due to end soon, and the customary final classes were sort of a wrap-up session on what they had learned throughout the year. Once they got their final grades, they would have some idea of what their classes would be the following year, which would be handed over via post no later than August first.

Harry received his envelope containing his grades in his school personal mailbox on the fifteenth of June, the final Sunday of the school year. He leaned up against the wall, painstakingly opening the envelope which would decide his academic future, his final year, at Wartsmoth Academy, and found his jaw dropping. He'd done well in all of his classes, but was most surprised by the Excellent grade he'd gotten in chemistry. This meant that he would be guaranteed a spot the following term in physics class with Hermione, for he knew that she, at the very least, had passed the course as well. He would also be going on to calculus after passing his trigonometry class, and, as far as he knew, advanced drawing and painting, due to his passing grade in the standard class, and advanced French, for the same reason. History, English, and a potential career-boosting class would likely follow the following year, but, for the moment, he was pleased to know that, academically, at least, things were secure.

Harry bolted from the student mailboxes and broke into a run down the basement stairs, letting himself into the chemistry classroom which, in three months' time, would officially be the physics classroom. He stood by the door, watching as Severus gathered his things to clean up for summer, and hesitated for a moment, before permitting himself to speak. "Professor?"

"What is it, Potter?"

Harry's heart thudded in his chest; he shouldn't be surprised, considering that the man likely thought he'd been rejected at the Waters of Leith. "I... I just wanted to thank you... For my grade," he finished lamely.

"Why thank me?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with him as he continued tidying up the classroom around them. "You put in the work."

Harry shrugged, pulling out his chemistry textbook and thumbing the spine. "Oh, I don't know about that, sir," he said softly. "I... This book really helped, above all things."

"If you're referring to your textbook, then I would hope so, considering that I assigned weekly readings in it," Severus said shortly.

"It wasn't just because of that," Harry protested. "It was the words in this book. I won't go into extreme detail—the writer seemed to think that nobody would read it."

"What are you blathering on about, Potter?" Severus demanded.

"The final pages of the book are filled with diary-like entries," Harry admitted then, opening one of the passages and reading. "'I wish that life was easier, but it cannot be. With a professional life that I can have, based on my academic achievement, a personal life I cannot, based on what society deems to be acceptable.' Signed, The Lonely One," Harry whispered, dragging his fingers across the text.

Severus dropped what he had been holding and whipped around, and Harry's eyes met his then as the professor advanced upon him, horror in his face as he caught sight, for the first time, of the book that Harry held. "Where did you get that?" he demanded, jabbing his finger at the book, a horrified look in his eyes.

"In the supply closet across the hall," Harry replied. "What with Remus getting custody of me, I didn't gave time to go book shopping and, when I did, these weren't available," he went on, and gasped slightly when Severus snatched the book from his hand. "Hey! What are you—?!"

"These... These entries, did you read all of them?!" he wanted to know, his voice quivering as he tore through the book.

"It was in my possession for nine months... What's this about?!" Harry demanded, shocked at the demeanor of his professor.

"Who else knows about them?!"

"Just Ron... He took the book and read one before I could get it back," Harry replied, shaking his head in confusion. "It's not like either of us figured out who The Lonely One was..."

"Don't be daft, Potter."

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what you—"

"I'm The Lonely One, Potter," Severus growled, thumbing to the final page, where the last entry was dated as June of 1978. "'And now that I shall be free of W.A., I can finally achieve academically what I always set out to do. The personal life shall have to wait, for everyone seems to think that people with my proclivities are damaged somehow. But, I shall strive to fear now, and, hopefully, one day, I will be able to be myself.' Signed, The Lonely One," Severus whispered then, his voice haunting as he read the entry.

"You...?" Harry breathed.

"That's right," Severus intoned softly. "I'm The Lonely One."

"You... No, you're lying," Harry whispered.

"Harry..."

"No!" Harry shouted. "Despite everything," he said, gesturing between the two of them, "we could never make it work, because Riddle told me—he told me—that you were in love with my mother! You're nothing but a liar and a coward!" Harry shouted then, and, when Severus made an attempt to grab him, Harry shoved him away and stormed from the room, without permitting himself to look back.

. . .

Harry was surprised at the notion that Remus had proposed to Dora, but was, nevertheless, pleased for the two of them. They all went to the graduation ceremony together, in celebration of Rolf's achievement of finishing Wartsmoth Academy. Harry deliberately ignored Severus, who tried more than once to catch his eye, and, instead, focused on the ceremony itself. It did come as a surprise, however, when Anthony pulled Hermione aside and asked her to go traveling with him over the summer. When Hermione politely declined, partially because she wasn't prepared for a trip and because she had made plans with Harry and Ron, Anthony suddenly proclaimed that he didn't feel comfortable with her friendship with Ron. Hermione, in response, promptly broke it off with Anthony, and stormed off to sit with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Remus, and Dora, on the other side of the seating area.

Ron and Hermione were permitted to come back to the villa after the ceremony, and agreed to pitch in and help Dora move in. There was a lot of laughter and silliness throughout the night, and they ordered Italian takeaway for dinner, with Ron bunking with Harry for the night after bedtime came, and Hermione taking a guest room. The following day, Harry took Remus's car to the station, dropping Ron and Hermione off and promising to come up to Devon or Hampstead for a visit very soon, and both of his best friends held him to that.

It was a complete shock to Harry when Remus and Dora informed him that they didn't intend to make their engagement a long one. In mid-July, the pair said their "I Do's" close to Wartsmoth Academy campus, and Harry was front and center as Remus's best man, and was also there to wave them off for their honeymoon. Harry then boarded a train with Ron and Hermione, who had come down for the occasion, and returned to Devon, where he would be staying at the Weasley home for the summer, until Remus and Dora returned home.

"What do you want to do for your birthday, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "No idea yet, but I'll let you know."

It wasn't completely true; in fact, it was a downright lie. Harry had decided to take a train from Devon to Scotland to confront Severus, once and for all. It would be without the fear of someone barging in on their conversation, for he knew the man took his summers on campus, and not many staff members did. Still, he kept his plan to himself, and, when the day came, left a note that he would be gone for the day, and got himself to the station.

When the train finally arrived at the station in Edinburgh, he found he had no idea what he was going to say to the professor. He could hardly proclaim his undying love to Severus Snape of all people, and actually expect to survive the encounter. Nevertheless, as his taxi brought him to the gates of the school, Harry let himself out and wandered onto the grounds, found an unlocked door, and headed downstairs.

"Severus?" he asked, pushing open the door.

Severus immediately got to his feet, a physics book in his hand, which he set down on his desk and slowly came forward. "Harry."

Harry sighed, feeling his fingers knotting together as anxiety threatened to take him over completely. "Look," he said, his voice shaking, "I want to attempt to have a civil, adult conversation. Can we agree to that?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, of course."

"I get frightened, because of what my aunt and uncle did to me," Harry said softly, and noticed that Severus's lips went into a thin line. "It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. However, you should know that, that day at Leith, that was all me, and not you. I wasn't having a panic attack," he told him.

Severus sighed. "Harry, it's perfectly natural that you..."

"Please, I'm not finished," he interrupted, and Severus allowed him to speak. "I was scared that, because of what happened to me, that you wouldn't want me."

Severus shook his head. "That's ridiculous, Harry! I told you I wanted you, and I told you that I had been hurt in a similar fashion. Our pasts cannot define us, Harry. You of all people should know that by now."

"I want you, too," Harry whispered, taking a tentative step closer, "which is why I think we should give a relationship a shot."

Severus blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Look, I know I'm seventeen and still your student for another year, but I don't care. As of this moment, I'm not your student."

Severus sighed. "You are my student until this June, when you will still be underage, as you very well know," he said firmly.

"And I already told you that I didn't care," Harry countered, and stepped closer still. "I want you, and you want me. What's stopping us?"

"The law, the Board of Governors," Severus said. "Many things, Harry."

Harry sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly then. "But... You want me. You said that you wanted me, Severus. Why can't we just...?"

"I just gave you two very important reasons, Harry, not to mention the fact that Albus would sack me on the spot if he found out," Severus told him gently. "I could never get another position in academia again, and, assuming I wasn't sent to prison, I would still be branded a pedophile, based on what we've already done, and my clear attraction to you."

"I hope it has nothing to do with my age..."

"Of course it doesn't," Severus snapped. "It has to do with you and who you are."

Harry swallowed. "So, you... You won't be with me?"

"I cannot be with you, Harry. At least, not now."

Harry looked away, his eyes filled with tears. "I thought..."

Severus sighed. "People thought I loved your mother," he said softly then, and Harry shut his eyes, tears streaming down his face. "It wasn't too difficult to come to that conclusion. We were always together, up until we were fifteen. She was...home for me, Harry. And when I heard the news that Riddle had done what he'd done, I immediately went to the police and offered up my testimony, knowing that I could stand to lose everything but it didn't matter, not then. I had just finished my science degree, and was looking for jobs, but my entire world came crashing down when the papers were splattered with headlines about the murders..."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to..."

"...which is why you shouldn't be here, Harry. You shouldn't be here because it's too dangerous for you to be here."

Harry turned to Severus and narrowed his eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"Harry, wait," Severus said, moving after him as he moved to leave. "You don't understand what I'm talking about right now. It's not safe—"

"I don't give a rat's arse what you're talking about!" Harry shouted at him, his voice shaking. "I can sense that you had plenty of opportunity to fight for us, and to fight back against all the obstacles in our way. I want you, but I guess my wanting outweighs yours, considering that I'm fully prepared to fight for what I want. Guess the same doesn't apply to you," he intoned at the older man, before walking away.

Harry dashed up the flight of stairs then, finding the closest exit he could and pushing his way out of there. Tears blinded his vision as he ran, the return ticket back to the Devon station feeling like a weight in his pocket. All he wanted to do was return to the villa and fall into bed, and perhaps sleep for an entire year; that way, he'd never had to face Severus again. At least, he figured, when he began uni, he wouldn't have to put up with his cowardly ways—

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" asked a giggly voice as he passed through the gates of the school, on the road to Dean Village.

Harry's breath caught in his throat then, his hairs standing up on end at the voice that crawled into his ear, and looked around. "Oh, my god..." He whispered, as he saw convicted murder Bellatrix Lestrange standing before him in all her gothic, horrific glory.

"Don't just stand there!" she shouted. "Grab him!"

Harry felt strong arms on all sides—left, right, and back—taking ahold of him then, smashing his muscles with their lean hands. "Let me go!" he yelled.

"No, I don't think we will," said Lucius Malfoy in his ear, from behind him.

"Now! Let go now!" Harry demanded.

"Quiet!" screamed Bellatrix.

"No, no, no!" Harry shouted back.

A laugh made its way into his ear from his left side. "I'd listen to my wife, if I were you," he said, his breath warm and disgusting on Harry's skin.

"And I'd listen to my brother, if I were you," said a voice to his right.

Bellatrix walked forward then, something in her hands—it looked like a dirty rag. "Hold the filthy little brat still," she ordered her husband and brothers-in-law, all pleasantries gone. She then lifted the rag and plastered it onto Harry's face, and although he struggled against it, his vision blurred quickly, and he felt himself take on the consistency of a ragdoll as the entire world went black.