part of "The Aevum Series"
by Nenya Entwhistle
Beta'd by Ziasudra & Lesameschelle.
A Door Opens
The first thing Harry does after falling on his arse is groan like a respectable man in pain would. Of course that does little to deter the bouncing, enthusiastic boy on his lap giving him a hug that squeezes him more than he would like. But he would never push the child away even if he feels like this is the right thing to doâ”this is what he would want if he were Teddy.
âI take it you missed me?â Harry remarks with a cheerful smile.
Teddy frowns, looking older than he should. âYou didnât come back yesterday!â
âAh yes,â Harry murmurs, âI was detained for a while.â He had not even realized how much time he had spent at Severusâ office until Severus literally pushed him out the door and told him to go home and get some rest. By then it was so late that the streets were pretty much deserted. âIâm sorry, was Becky upset?â
Teddy shrugs, his arms still linked around Harryâs neck. âShe was surprised when you didnât come back.â The boy grins impishly. âI donât think she expected you to listen to her.â He leans in and whispers conspiratorially into Harryâs ear, âAfter an hour or so when you should have been back, she thought maybe you had gotten sidetracked by someone.â
Harry rears his head back and blinks a few times. âWhat?â
âSo,â Teddy murmurs, getting a sly look in his eyes that Harry definitely doesnât recognize as his own, âwho was it?â
Harry fights the blush because it is trueâ”he was sidetracked by someoneâ”and in the way the boy insinuates. Goddammit, why does Teddy have to be so mature and with it at his age? Harry bets anything, bets his trust fund that he was nothing like Teddy is at this age, and yet why does he feel such an affinity with him? Harry knows itâs the feeling he wants to ask about, itâs just the why behind it that troubles him.
Severus, he repeats, feeling warm and yet not. So much the man, his lover, has told him about the life they had led together after he had graduated from Hogwarts. Told him about why he fell into the darkness, explained how he became depressed and wanted nothing to do with living, and what really mattered was the fact he overcame that. He climbed out of his depression through the Dark Arts and managed through luck, protection spells, and sacrifice to defeat a powerful Dark Lord. What a life he had had.
âHarry?â Teddy calls, patting his face with both hands. âEarth to Harry!â
âHmmm?â
âPlay with me?â Teddy asks, pointing over to the miscellaneous games on the floor. âHow about chess?â
âAll right,â Harry agrees, thinking life had been much simpler when he hadnât known about his former life. âChess soundsâ”â Ron also likes chess, he remembers and pauses. They had played at Hogwarts, and Ron was very good. He frowns at the memory and then shakes his head when Teddy squeezes his hand.
âChess is okay, right?â
Harry smiles and nods, knowing that Teddy picked it because heâs good at it. âItâs fine.â
âAwesome!â Teddy exclaims and jumps off his lap to go and set up the board. âDo you want to be black or white?â
âErr⌠black is fine,â he answers.
Teddy grins and waves the white Queen in the air. âI get to go first then!â
Why had he ever thought that Teddy reminds him of him?
-
âSometimes,â Harry said and snapped his fingers, âI think Iâm so close to remembering. I can almost feel it, almost grab it but it slips from my fingers as if it doesnât want me to latch onto it yet.â
More than a year, Hermione smiled down at him and ran her fingers through his dark hairs. âIâm sure youâll remember one day. Didnât your doctors, Pomfrey and Snape, say itâll take time?â
âItâs been more than enough time,â he grumbled and pouted. âYouâd think Iâd get some of my memories back by now!â
She sighed and twirled his hair around. âHave you finished the book I gave you?â
âYou gave it to me last week,â he muttered, rolling his eyes. âYou really donât expect me to have finished that thick book, do you?â
She laughed. âI guess I canât.â She pinched his nose playfully. âBut promise me you will read it, all right?â
He grimaced. âOne day, I will.â
-
It is Wednesday and like the previous day, he spends it with Severus talking. Well, mostly he does the listening and Snape does the speaking. But it doesnât bother him, not when heâs finally learning details about his life that Draco would never know. He blushes lightly when he thinks about some of the sexual questions heâd asked and had been answered. Who would have thought he was that bold in bed?
Severus coughs and Harry jerks his face toward him. âWhat?â
âYou werenât paying attention,â Severus snaps, much like he usually does as his doctor. But this snapping tone has a familiarity to it, and dare he thinkâ”an affection? From what has been told of their relationship, Harry has to conclude, it was as dysfunctional as Severus claimsâ”but it wasnât without some real feeling to it, even if it was not the wholesome variety. âDaydreaming of Draco maybe?â
Harry is starting to believe that Draco had lied about the fact that Severus liked him. Everything his former lover has said has been negative. A part of him wants to attribute it to jealousy, but that seems a little weird considering Draco and him used to be rivalsâ”enemies. But he wants to trust in Draco, even more than Severus, because Draco offered the key and gave it.
âWhy would I?â Harry inquires, staring resolutely into the dark eyes. âAnd why do you sound like you hate him?â
âWhy shouldnât I?â Severus counters, his eyes piercing Harryâs.
He feels paralyzed, trapped, and confused. âI thought you liked him.â
âIs that a memory?â Severus demands, his voice low and lethal. âOr is that what Draco Malfoy told you?â
âDraco,â Harry answers. âThatâs what Draco says.â He hesitates and nibbles at his lip, noticing how Severusâ gaze diverts to the simple motion. âBut werenât you his Head of House, shouldnât you like him?â
Severus rolls his eyes slowly, exaggeratedly. âJust because he was in my House does not mean that I have to like that arrogant, spoiled little horror.â
âButâŚâ
âI know what he said,â Severus retorts, âbut considering that you now know I used to be a spy, donât you think I could disguise my real feelings from him?â
Harry nods reluctantly. âI guess.â
âBut you want to know more,â Severus states simply.
âI do.â
He lets out a growl of frustration. âYou and your incessant questions,â Severus mutters. âYouâve heard me mention that Dracoâs father, Lucius, was a Death Eater. Lucius not only wanted you dead, but I was also his instrument for practicing the Dark Arts. Unlikeâ”â
âWasnât Iâ”â
âYou were mine,â Severus snaps, his eyes flashing fiercely. âBut I was never as cruel or as vindictive as Lucius Malfoy was. I did it to help you get what you wanted. Lucius did it because it helped him and fed his sadism. I didnât do it out of that sick love of torture, but becauseâŚâ
âYou wanted me,â Harry finishes softly. âDidnât you?â
âYes,â Severus hisses.
Harry rubs his tired eyes. âYouâve told me about our relationship and the events that led up to it, and youâve even mentioned my years as your student. Youâve given me more information than Draco did. But neither of you ever mention my childhood.â He pauses and blinks once. âWhat of my parents? What of my childhood? What was my life like before Hogwarts?â
Severus presses his lips into a thin, unforgiving line. âYou would not like what you would hear.â
âBut Iâm asking.â
âIn thisâŚâ
âAnswer,â Harry demands. âAnswer my question.â
Severus swallows with difficulty. âYou are right, it is a lie. You never knew your parents, they died protecting you from Voldemortâ”dying the same day when you freed the Wizarding World from his first reign of terror. You were a savior for everyone but your own parents, though I suppose they are proud of youâ”wherever they are.â
âAnd?â
âAnd you went to live with your motherâs sister, Petunia and her husband, Vernon, and their son, Dudley DursleyâŚâ
-
âYou like Hermione, donât you?â
Ron blushed sheepishly and nodded, ducking his head beneath a pillow.
Harry chuckled and chunked his pillow at his best friend. âIf you like her, you ought to ask her out!â
âI⌠Iâ”uh, I donât know what to do!â Ron exclaimed.
Harry threw back his head and nearly shouted with laughter. He was shaking so hard that it took a good few minutes before he was able to control himself and actually say something to the beet-faced Ron. âI think saying youâre crazy about her would work. Or,â Harry remarked with a sly look, âyou could say you love her truly, madly, deeply and canât live without her!â
âHarry Potter!â Ron screeched, throwing both pillows at him. âI will not!â
Harry caught them both with his excellent reflexes and tucked one underneath his head. âWhy not? Itâd work,â he responded casually. âAnd itâs better than doing nothing, which is what youâre doing. If youâre going to wait for her to come to you, then youâre going to wait for a very long time.â Harry uncrossed and then re-crossed his ankles. âSheâs a bit oblivious about matters of the heart, though sheâs got a tremendous grasp on book-learning.â
Ron sighed raggedly and his body slumped forward. âDonât I know it.â
Harry chuckled and threw Ronâs pillows back at him. âSheâll find out eventually, but if you told herâ”itâd be a lot better⌠for both of you. Itâll only get worse if you keep stalling. Sheâs not going to figure it out by herself and when someone else tells herâ”like your Ginnyâ”sheâs going to be pretty upset that you werenât the one to tell her first. I mean, I think everyone knows, especially if I know!â
âUgh,â Ron muttered, burying his face in his hands, âwhy does life have to be so bloody complicated?â
-
âOh god,â Harry says, burying his face in his hands. âI donât believe this. I canât believe this. All thisâ”â His shoulders slump forward and he takes a trembling step forward. âMy entire childhood has been a lie.â
âHarryâŚâ Severus reaches out to him, but when Harry feels his hand touch himâ”he jerks his body away. âThey did what they thought was best,â he says, though Harry could tell there is disapproval in Severusâ voice, âeven if what they did was unwise.â
How is it that Harry can still read this enigmatic manâs tone even when his memories elude him? The funny thing is, he knows he isnât guessing, he just knows. It is like how he knew how to walk, though he still doesnât understand why he could know that and not remember his memories. And isnât this some innate memory then? Or is this all instinctive? But how?
âYouâve told me who I became, my life as student, and even of my childhood,â Harry murmurs, lifting his face up and staring at Severus, âbut you have yet to tell me why they decided to keep this from me.â
Severus takes in a sharp breath and then lets it out raggedly. âYou lost your magic at first and becoming a squibâ”â
âA squib?â
âSomeone non-magical born to a magical personage,â he explains. âAs I was saying, becoming a squib when you were born with magic has a high probability of making a person go crazy. The more powerful the wizard or witch, the more likely and the worse it gets. They were trying to save you from that insanity.â
There was a justifiable reason for what they did, Harry thinks with a rush of relief and yet as his mind playback what Severus had said he picks up a funny phrase. The type of phrase that makes everything infinitely more complicated. But then a simple answer would not sate his grim curiosity nor would it be enough in a situation like this. The only true answer would have to be complex, difficult, and life-shattering.
âYou said at firstâŚâ
âYou eventually got your magic back, and I believe when the connection that was broken mended itself, it pulled your memories back too.â Severus pinches the bridge of his nose. âYou have always been amazingly resilient and lucky, so I suspect that your innate magic doesnât like it when youâre not completely yourself. Whatever it was, your memories returned nearly at the same time as your magic. That isâ”â
âThatâs why they cast that spell on me,â Harry mutters, his eyes growing darker and filling with some anger. âYou said that this isnât the first time that Iâve remembered, that you didnât know about it until it was too late. Itâs because my memories came back with my magic, and they were afraid of how I would react, so like the fucking cowards they areâ”they restarted me so everything would go as they wanted it to. They never even considered what I might have wanted. â
âNo,â Severus agrees, reaching out with his hand to pull Harry to him into a tight embrace, âthey didnât.â
âI want to hate them,â Harry whispers fiercely. âI need to hate them.â
Severusâ hand trails down his back, stroking him softly and comfortinglyâ”unlike the man he used to know, and yet sending tingles of feelings of what his love life had been in the past. âI have hated them,â Severus declares in a chilling voice. âI have hated them for a very long time.â He presses his lips against the top of Harryâs head. âYou should hate them for what they have done to you. Because how can you forgive them?â A cold finger traces his cheek. âYou were angry last time, I heard, filled with wrath. Donât tell me,â he whispers, âyou want to forgive them.â
Harry shakes his head, pulling away. âBut I canât.â
âYou can,â Severus says fiercely. âIf you believe you can.â
âNo, no, no!â Harry crouches down, rocking back and forth. âNoâŚâ
âWhy not?â Severus goads. âAfter all they have done to you?â
âWhat about you?â Harry cries suddenly. âYou have been drugging me! Shouldnât I hate you too? After what youâve done! What do you have to say? And is it permanent?â He digs his fingers into his hair and pulls at the ends in frustration, anger, and helplessness. This, at least, he can control unlike his life. âThe pills! What do they do?â
Any semblance of color on Severusâ face drains away. âThey reinforce the Abdo Animus spell and restrict your magic.â
Harry lets out a ragged breath and hugs his legs tighter. âWhat am I suppose to do?â He rests his forehead against his knees. âWho am I?â
He doesnât know when Severus knelt down next to him until his hand strokes his back. âYou are Harry.â
-
Neville had asked him out. Harry slumped against the door and sunk to the floor. Neville Longbottom had asked to go to dinner with him whenever he was free next week. He had never even considered the nice young man in that way, as anything more than a friend, even if he was gay and thought that Neville leant in the same way. Now to even consider it made him feel weird. It felt almost wrong, but why?
Harry shook his head and sighed, staring at nothing really and yet everything at once. There was nothing wrong with Neville, he was a pleasant young man but certainly not someone he envisioned himself with. Of course, there was the problem of rejection. He knew rejection would hurt Neville, and he hated hurting anyone. Maybe he could say he needed more time, that he still wasnât ready to date anyone. It was hardly more than a year since his accident, and he was still getting settled into his new lifeâ”into his new routine at the childrenâs shelter. And he simply couldnât possibly⌠go out with him.
âIâm sorry, Neville,â he practiced. âIâm still not ready.â He fidgeted with his hands. âIâm still adjusting. Iâm honored you asked though, but I canât go with you for dinner.â
Harry buried his face in his hands. Goddammit, he cursed, why am I saying no to someone perfectly nice like Neville? Because of his stupid, past lover whose identity was shrouded in mystery and Harry just knew whoever he wasâ”was nothing like Neville Longbottom. Harry snorted and knocked his head against the wall. Somehow he just had the feeling that his lover was the antithesis of everything Neville represented, and yet why was he attracted to such a man?
He sighed. He guessed love was an irrational thing. Crazy love.
-
Today it is not his alarm clock that wakes him, but loud knocking on the door. Harry rubs his tired eyes and blinks warily at the darkness pervading his room. Whoever the bloody hell it is, he thinks, better have a damn good reason for making such an ungodly noise this early in the morning. He stumbles out of bed and shakes his groggy head to try and wake himself up a bit more. The only thing he really registers until he gets to the door and opens it is that no one ever visits him this early.
Well, he now knows one person that does⌠âDraco,â he says. âWhat are you doing here?â
Draco smirks and breezes by him. âGood morning, Harry. Not a morning person are you?â he inquires, giving him a thorough lookdown from head to toe.
Harry realizes that his hair must be messier than usual and his eyes are probably tiny slits, not that he really cares. He bets itâs only 6:00 at the latest, and who wakes up at that time? He stifles a groan and tries to smile, but he fails. âYou didnât answer my question,â he grumbles. âWhat are you doing here?â
âCanât friends visit each other?â Draco inquires, lifting an elegant eyebrow.
How the man looks so bloody good at a time like this, Harry has not the faintest clue. But thatâs beside the point, considering Draco still has not answered his question. Really, Harry could learn the technique for evading questions from him. âI thought you said we were enemies during our school years and that we hated each other.â
âOh we were, I donât deny that,â Draco murmurs, stepping closer to Harryâ”much too close. They are but inches apart and Harry can feel Dracoâs warm breath when he talks. âWe definitely were enemies, but I like to think that happened more because of Weasley and different House affiliations than anything else.â
Harry backs up and trips over something on the floor. Draco grabs both his arms and yanks him close, their bodies pressing against each other. âWatch out,â Draco whispers into his ear, âyou donât want to fall, do you?â
Gulping nervously, Harry steadies himself and then moves away from Draco. He goes over and plops himself down on the couch, mentally cringing when Draco takes a seat right next to him. He stares down at his hands because he doesnât want to look at Draco looking at him. And he still hasnât made up his mind if he is going to tell him about Severus. He does trust Draco, but thenâ”he trusted his real friends and look where that led him.
âAnd we are friends, arenât we?â Draco asks, leaning toward him and reaching over with his hand to tilt Harryâs face up. âBecause when you have friends like yours, shouldnât your enemies become your best allies?â
Harry raises his eyes a fraction to meet Dracoâs. âFriends that hurt each other?â
Dracoâs finger touches his lips and he smiles unpleasantly. âI think Iâd say helping and hurting. And thereâs a reason you know, a reason for all this.â
He is afraid to ask, to know, to find out what reason Draco has. Whatever it is, it cannot be good, and he is tiredâ”weary of hearing things he cannot handle but must.
âDonât you want to know?â Draco inquires, his fingers tracing down Harryâs throat. âItâs nothing really bad, I suppose. But to me, I think itâs justification enough.â
Harryâs throat constricts, and he swallows harshly. âYouâre going to tell me anyway, arenât you?â
âOf course,â Draco remarks, his hand leaving Harryâs face. âYou have a right to know why I would even want to hurt you. At first, itâs because just knowing you would never feel the same about your friends again was enough. And knowing you, that would hurt youâ”pain you to know you couldnât trust those you loved. But then, I got intriguedâ”thinking about you as you areâ”not knowing anything and not having any of the prejudices that the Wizarding World currently has for me. And finally while I was away, I realized I could not stop thinking of you.â
Draco pauses and looks away, his gaze focusing on somethingâ”the wall. âItâs something strange to realize youâre obsessed and have been obsessed for many years,â he murmurs, tucking some stray hair behind his ear. âIt began when I was child, hearing so many stories of you and your impossible act, and it really started when you rejected me for Weasley.â Draco stops and his nostrils flare. âI mean, how could you? How could you choose that redhead over me? And yet, it only made me more interested in you and you were a challenge to meâ”besting me in everything except grades. But what do grades matter? Your friend Granger, the smartest witch Hogwarts has produced in a century is toiling behind a desk in the Ministry waiting to be promoted, which is unlikely to happen anytime soon.
âAnd you had to be better and braver than me in everything,â Draco declares, punctuating his words with a snap of his fingers. âDo you know how fucking irritating that is?â Draco jerks his head toward Harry and shoves his face forward, a lot like Severus had done earlier. âEspecially when my father married my mother to produce the best heir possible? Mingling the Malfoy blood with that of the Black family, ancient pureblood with ancient pureblood, and yet youâ”a half-blood proved superior, able to defeat the strongest wizard born since Grindelwald.â
Draco clenches his fingers until his knuckles turn white. âWhat is even worse than you being better than me is that now I realize how bloody obsessed I am with you. How I collected articles about you, how I wasnât happy unless you were around for me to torment, how unsatisfying my life has been since youâve disappeared as if you no longer existed! And here you are now, here you are, and you donât remember anything about meâ”and I canât help thinking what a fool I am for not compounding on that, for not using that!
âI should never have told you about your past,â he whispers. âI should have left you in the dark.â
-
âShouldnât you be at work?â he remarked after they had both taken their customary spots in his living room. âI mean, itâs the middle of the day and all.â
âShouldnât you be at the shelter?â she inquired, raising an eyebrow at him.
He rolled his eyes. âI have a feeling you wonât answer my question until I answer yours, so here goes⌠Iâm home because itâs a government holiday and the kids donât come on those days. Itâs like our âoff-daysâ during the week.â
âAh, I see,â she murmured. âIâm not at work because I finished the busy work they gave me and I thought I might as well drop by and see if you were home.â
âOh, is that so?â Harry stretched and placed his arms behind his neck. âHey Hermione, can I ask you a question?â
âI canât guarantee to answer,â she remarked, âbut go ahead.â
âIâve been wondering⌠why is it that Iâve never been to your flat?â he asked from his spot on the couch where his legs spread to the very end. âI mean, Iâve been to Ronâs and you guys regularly come to my place, but I havenât been to yours, Ginnyâs, or even Nevilleâs.â
Hermione frowned a bit and straightened up from lounging on one of his soft, comfy chairs. âWell, uhâŚ, my placeâs a bit of a mess,â she admitted, blushing. âI mean, there are books everywhereâ”but theyâre in neat stacks! And well, my catâs very antisocial, really doesnât like anyone much.â
His shoulders slumped forward in disappointment. âI see.â
She chewed on her lower lip and tucked her feet underneath her bottom. âDo you really want to go?â
He shrugged. âItâs okay.â It took a moment before he smiled brightly. âYou know, you having a lot of books around is so like you.â
She laughed. âIt is, isnât it?â
-
âWhat are you saying?â
âWHAT AM I SAYING?!â Draco explodes, his hands reaching out and grabbing Harry by his shirt. He drags Harry to him until their bodies touch intimately and that is when Harry notices something odd poking into his belly. He glances down, and his eyes snap up abruptly. âDonât you know?â Draco murmurs darkly, his arm snaking around Harryâs waist and using it as leverage to press his erection even more against him. âCanât you feel it? Or are you as dumb and witless as you were before?â
Harry struggles, pushes against Dracoâs chest, and tries to do anything to get the blond off of him but of course it does little good except to cause Draco to moan as Harry rubs against his erection. Harry closes his eyes and feels the moan go straight to his groin. Dammit, he thinks, this is not what he needs if he intends to get the fucking blond off of him! And why is he becoming aroused anyway? His lover is, was Severusâ”Severus!â”not Draco!
âWhy?â he rasps, leaning his head as far back as he can and panting. âYou hate me. You want to hurt me. I know aboutâ”I remember some things about the pastâ”you really hated me, and your father wanted me dead.â
Draco lifts an eyebrow and there is a gleam in his silver eyes that Harry doesnât like. He has a feeling that he has made a mistake, that he shouldnât have trusted Draco, that he is handling a dragon as a ranked amateur instead of a pro. âSo your memories are coming back to you, are they?â Draco whispers, his hands gripping Harryâs arse. âThatâs rather sudden, isnât it?â
âYou were the catalyst,â Harry says softly, breathing harder and feeling very uncomfortable. Considering the position he is in and the fact that Draco is a beautiful young manâ”his reaction is only normal, he tells himself. âYou made my memories come back.â
âAre you grateful?â
He feels horribly aroused and wishes that his erection would go away. He wishes that this had never happened, wishes that he had never bumped into Draco, wishes that
Draco had left him in the dark. Maybe this kind of help isnât what he needs. But then who should help him?
Severus has been trying to help and says he did the best he could under wizardâs oath, but did he really? There is also his friends to factor in, especially Hermioneâs odd behavior when the two of them were alone. Is she under the same oath? Is that why she gave him subtle hints she knew he probably wouldnât get? And then there is Dracoâ”he stares until the blond blursâ”who was his enemy and now his friend?
âHow much do you remember?â
Not⌠âEnough.â
-
A/N: The next update will probably be next Thursday after my physics test hinging on if I finish the chapter soon, though it might be delayed for a few days to get the editing and such done. So what do you make of Severus? Of Draco? And of Harry? Anymore questions arise?