Possessions III

Ron came back from the bar with two whiskys. Harry looked at him. “Am I going to need this?” Ron had owled him earlier and asked Harry to meet him at the Dragon’s Breath, a less fashionable pub in Diagon Alley. Harry had an idea. “Is Hermione— you know— going to have a baby?”

Ron spat out his mouthful of whisky. “No! Not unless you know something I don’t. Did she say anything?”

“No,” Harry reassured him. “I was just wondering why we’re here. I thought you might have something to tell me that you didn’t want anyone to hear.”

“Mm.” Ron picked up his coaster and started picking at it. “Yeah.”

“Well, what?” Harry sipped his drink. “You two aren’t having problems, are you?”

Ron shook his head. “Um... It’s not about us. Herm and me.”

Another pause.

“Ron? Is it about the trial?” The trial of Malfoy, Pettigrew and Bagman had finally been scheduled; it would start in a week. “I don’t think we’re supposed to talk about our testimony beforehand.”

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had had to search for Muggle solicitors with magical connections to help them establish the guidelines for the trial. In the past no guidelines— or trials— had been necessary as the Aurors simply administered Veritaserum or extorted confessions through other means. Or, as in Sirius’ case, a summary judgment had been executed, sometimes literally, on the basis of circumstantial evidence alone. In short, a kind of martial law had held sway.

Now, however, the MLE was attempting to cover its fat arse, and was using this particular trial to demonstrate that not even Harry Potter’s mere word could sentence three men to the Kiss. They had finally located one solicitor married to a wizard; another whose sister was a witch; and a barrister whose son was currently attending Hogwarts. All potential witnesses had been summoned by the legal advisors and ordered not to discuss the case with one another. Harry had refrained from asking how, exactly, he was supposed to not talk about it with his lover, his godfather, and his godfather’s lover, who were the other major witnesses in the case.

“No, I know.” Ron was staring at the table. “I talked to my contact in the MLE today.”

The unnamed contact had been helpfully feeding Ron information about the trial all along. Harry suspected that it was Millicent Bulstrode, who had fought staunchly against Voldemort in the final battle and been rewarded with a clerkship at the Ministry.

“My contact says that they’re going to ask you to take Veritaserum.”

“Fuck!”

A few heads swiveled.

“Shh!” Ron warned.

“Well Ron, you know that’s going to be a sodding disaster. What if they ask how I knew where Sev was being held? Or if they ask how much Sirius and Remus knew? God, they could be brought up on conspiracy charges. And I said—” Harry whispered— “I said I was going to kill Malfoy and Pettigrew. I could be charged with attempted homicide. Assault, at the very least.” He’d broken Malfoy’s wrist and bashed his head against a stone floor, and almost strangled Bagman.

Ron nodded tensely. “They won’t bring you up on charges, Harry, you’re a hero.”

“Yeah. A hero. Everyone loves me.” He thought of what Parvati had said at the party. “Especially everyone who lost someone because of me. Oh, hell. I need to learn a lot more about the legal process. Can they just ask anything they want to? Can I refuse to take the Veritaserum? No, it’ll look like I have something to hide.” He knocked back his drink. “I need another one of these.”

“Harry, calm down. I’m sure you can get some questions excluded.”

“But Ron, it’s Veritaserum. You know how that stuff works. If they ask the question, I’m going to answer it, whether the judge overrules it or not. Then everyone will know!” He stood up and went to the bar. “Give me a double.”

The bartender complied silently. Harry returned to the table, half his drink already gone. “Oh buggering, sodding, cocksucking hell.”

Ron had a very strange expression on his face.

“What?” Harry snapped.

“Nothing, it’s just— did you get that out of a special book? Curses for Poofs?”

Harry was angry for a split second before the humor struck him and he exploded in nervous laughter. “Right, there’s a series. Interior Decorating for Poofs. Gourmet Cooking for Poofs.”

“Hairdressing for Poofs—”

“Oh yeah. Um, Show Tunes for Poofs.” He drank again. “Okay, thanks. I needed that.”

“Harry, I’m sorry. But I thought you should know.” Ron reached out and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Yes. Thanks. This is much better than having it sprung on me in court.” Something else occurred to him. “What about Severus? Are they going to ask him to take it?”

“No, because of the chance that he took the Counter-Solution at some point. They have no idea how long that stuff lasts in a person’s system.” The Counter-Solution resulted in the user’s death if Veritaserum was administered.

“I doubt it lasts twenty years,” Harry said. Light dawned. “Those bastards. They think he was making it for Malfoy and Pettigrew, don’t they? And that he took it.”

Ron nodded. He looked miserable. “They might want Sirius to take it, but not Lupin. They don’t know how it will interact with werewolf metabolism.”

“Bugger. This just gets worse and worse.” He wanted to put his head down on the table and never look up again.

“Okay, we need to stop talking about this now,” Ron said firmly.

“You’re right.” Harry drank some more. He realized that his tongue was turning numb. “Shit, how many of these have I had?” He looked at his watch; he hadn’t eaten anything in six hours. He pushed his glass away, although he feared it was too late. “Can you cast a Detoxification Charm on me?”

Ron chuckled and obeyed. Harry’s head felt clearer immediately; Ron was good at that. Well, given the many nights Harry had been out drinking with the Weasleys, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“I should go home now,” Harry said. “Thanks. For everything.”

“No problem,” said Ron. He tried to smile. “Hey, um. Be careful.”

“Yeah. You too.” He Apparated to his house.

So at least Harry was somewhat prepared when he was called to testify the following week. He’d spent the previous four days waiting, alone but for a silent Magical Law Enforcement clerk, in a magically-sealed room. According to the court, the witnesses had to be physically present in the building from the beginning of the trial until their testimony was given. Harry had had to re-schedule the special orientation his company was running for Muggle-born wizard children heading to Hogwarts for the first time. He suspected that Malfoy’s barrister had suggested that the witnesses be sequestered precisely to inconvenience them. Harry was called to testify last.

He hadn’t seen the courtroom before. It wasn’t set up like a Muggle courtroom; instead, it was a large meeting room. The defendants were seated in a corner behind heavy wards. The barristers, the judge, and the jury sat at the front of the room at a long table. Witnesses who had already testified were allowed to stay and listen if they liked, so Sev, Sirius and Remus were all there, as was Ron. The other witnesses had apparently chosen not to stay. Or, he thought, someone had had a word with them.

Harry sat down facing the long table at the front. His back was to the witnesses, but he could see the defendants in the corner. It was easier to think of them that way, as a category. Not as people.

“Mr Potter, some of the witnesses have agreed to take Veritaserum. Would you be willing to do so also?”

Harry didn’t have a choice. As he’d found in his frantic research, aided by a diligent Hermione, there was no legal precedent in wizard or Muggle law for this situation. “Yes.”

One of the MLE enforcers came forward and handed him a glass of water. The Veritaserum hung suspended in it, three crystal drops. He drank quickly. There was a pause as they waited for the potion to take effect. A shudder ran through Harry’s body and his head started to ache slightly.

The prosecution barrister, actually an advanced Auror who had received special coaching from one of the Muggle solicitors, took Harry through the events of his Quidditch ‘fall’ and of the day when Malfoy, Pettigrew, and Bagman kidnapped Sev. The barrister carefully asked only what Harry did and saw, and Harry managed to limit himself to answering just those questions, despite the powerful temptation to unburden himself of everything. By the time he was done recounting the story, his head was pounding.

Then the defense barrister rose to her feet. Chrysanthemum Roland, one of Narcissa Malfoy’s distant cousins. “Mr Potter. Can you tell us about your ... relationship... with Mr Snape?”

Oh hell. It was exactly the open-ended kind of question he’d feared. He heard himself saying, “I’ve known him since I was eleven, and I’ve—” Then he managed to bite back the impulse to answer, although his stomach churned. “Um, I don’t see how our relationship is relevant to the case.”

The judge leaned forward. “That’s a valid point. Madam Roland?”

“Your Honor,” she said smoothly, “I will argue that Mr Potter is deluded in his interpretation of what he saw in Mr Snape’s lab at Whiztel and at Malfoy Manor because of his relationship with Mr Snape. Thus, I need to elicit information from him about the nature of that relationship.”

Oh no. No, no, no. Harry managed to keep his back still so that Sev couldn’t see his reaction.

The judge considered this. “Is this essential to your defense?”

“Oh yes, Your Honor.”

Harry really, really wished that the Ministry had spent a little more time setting parameters for this trial.

“Very well, Madam Roland. You may proceed.”

“Mr Potter? Could you answer the question?”

He thought frantically. “Well, could you make it a bit more specific? I mean—” he cast a glance at the jury— “we could be here for days if you want to hear everything.” One of the jurors smiled a little. Harry was encouraged by this.

“Certainly. Mr Potter, please describe the nature of your relationship with Mr Snape while you were his student.” She stared at him coolly.

Harry breathed a little sigh of relief. “Well, as you just said, I was his student. He was my teacher. Um, sometimes we worked together on Order business. Our relationship there was professional.”

She seemed somewhat taken aback. “Did Mr Snape influence you in any way?”

Harry laughed, much to her surprise. “He made me realize that I am not a good potions-maker. It’s awfully painstaking. I mean, I like that, but I’d rather apply it to spell-casting. Now that’s fun because—”

“Mr Potter,” said the judge. “Stick to the question, please.”

He must have had a lot of practice reining in Sirius, Harry thought suddenly.

“Madam Roland? Would you care to rephrase? I don’t wish to hear Mr Potter’s opinions of every class he took at Hogwarts.”

Roland nodded. “At any time did Mr Snape say or do things that made you think that he might desire a nonprofessional relationship with you?”

Shit! Harry swallowed hard. But it would look worse to resist answering. “Well, I—” He could shade his answer, he realized. “I was hopeful, you know, so I might have seen more than there actually was, but I thought maybe sometimes in my last year I saw him look at me.”

A few of the jurors seemed confused. Good.

“Mr Snape looked at you,” Roland repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that he looked at me. You know, he didn’t glare.”

There was a flicker of a smile on the judge’s face. Sev must have glared a lot while he was testifying.

“Did Mr Snape ever touch you while you were his student?”

“Yes,” said Harry confidently. “He shook me once when I’d done something really stupid.” He glanced at the judge. “Do I have to say what I did?” The judge shook his head. “Okay, good, because he was right. It was really, really stupid.” One of the jurors giggled, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Um, in Potions sometimes his sleeve touched mine when he was showing me how to chop things. There’s a trick to skinning shrivelfigs, you know.”

“Mr Potter.” Roland was becoming exasperated. Well, if she’d stop asking idiotic questions... “Did Mr Snape touch you in a sexual fashion while you were his student?”

“No,” said Harry instantly. He caught a look between her and Malfoy. Malfoy shrugged.

“And your current relationship. Would you describe it as ... normal?” Roland’s voice dropped on the last word.

“Yes. Well, we’re both men, and some people would say that that’s not normal. Is that what you mean?” His nausea was increasing.

“The emotional dynamics, Mr Potter. Who’s in control? Isn’t it true that he supports you financially? That you owe him?”

Christ, either she or Malfoy had been listening to the same disgusting gossip as Ron. “No,” Harry said firmly. “We share financial responsibilities.” And he was happier than ever that he’d persuaded Sev to let him do that. “We can produce our household accounts if necessary, although frankly I don’t see the point of these questions.”

The judge leaned forward. “I agree. Madam Roland, if you are attempting to prove that Mr Potter has been unduly influenced by Mr Snape, it seems to me that there is no evidence to support such an assertion, and your questions are wasting the court’s time.”

Roland’s lips tightened. “Yes, Your Honor. Moving along. The day that Mr Snape was allegedly kidnapped. Mr Potter, you said that you discovered that he was missing when you were allegedly attacked by Julian Whistleton and Floris Thrimblemere. I find it interesting that they both died violently shortly after you spoke with them, so that no other witnesses heard them tell you about the involvement of my clients.”

She hadn’t asked a question, so Harry wasn’t allowed to say anything. He seethed.

“How did you feel when you saw that Mr Snape was not in his office?”

“I was very worried and angry. I knew I had to find him.”

“So you went to see Mr Black and Mr Lupin. Why didn’t you contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?”

“I wanted to find Severus while he was still alive,” Harry heard himself say. “If I’d contacted the MLE, they would have come to Whiztel and taken my statement. Then they would have started their investigation. It would have been hours, at least. Probably days. Well, they’re bureaucrats, you know. They have to file a report at every step.” Another juror laughed. “I didn’t want to fill out sodding forms, I wanted to find my— find Severus.”

“Interesting. Did this decision not to involve the authorities have anything to do with your plans for my clients once you found them?”

“No,” Harry was able to say. At that point he hadn’t been planning very far ahead. He forced himself not to expand on his answer. His head was about to split open from the pain.

“And, Mr Potter, please tell us what you did plan for Mr Malfoy, Mr Pettigrew, and Mr Bagman.”

Why the hell wasn’t the barrister for the prosecution saying anything?

“I was going to kill them.” And he certainly wouldn’t be receiving any birthday presents from his adoring public next year, judging by the horrified expressions on the jurors’ faces. Harry went on in a rush. “Peter Pettigrew is responsible for the deaths of my parents. Because of him my godfather spent twelve years in Azkaban and three more years in hiding. I made the mistake of letting him live once before. I didn’t want to do that again.”

Damn, his head hurt. “And then I got to Malfoy Manor and saw Sev and Malfoy was torturing him and I—” His stomach lurched again. “I think I’m going to be ill. Who the hell made this Veritaserum? You should have had Sev do it. His is always pure.” He tried to stand; one of the MLE guards put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into his chair. “Really, I need—” Harry leaned over and threw up on the floor, spattering the guard’s shoes. Served her right.

Then people were talking very loudly around him. “Put his head on his knees—” “Get him out of here—” “He still has to testify—”

Harry dragged his sleeve across his mouth. Someone put a glass of water in his hand; he looked at it carefully.

“It’s really just water, Harry.” Remus sounded amused.

“Okay,” he said hoarsely, and drank.

The guard cast a cleaning charm on her shoes and the floor. “Mr Lupin, do not talk to the witness until he finishes his testimony.”

Remus didn’t say anything. Harry looked up to see him giving the guard an aloof stare; she glanced away. Sirius and Sev were arguing with the judge. Sev seemed to be saying that Harry’s last piece of testimony should be stricken from the record as the efficacy of the Veritaserum was in doubt.

“Um... everybody? Hello?” Harry coughed politely. Right, that definitely wasn’t working. Time to bring out the voice of authority. “Quiet!” The room stilled. He did enjoy doing that. “I feel much better now and I’m willing to continue testifying, if the counsel for the defense would like to ask me some relevant questions instead of all this claptrap about what I might have done if circumstances had been completely different!”

Wow, that was a diatribe worthy of Sev himself. The man in question turned away from the judge and looked at Harry intently. There, now the jury could see for itself what Harry had meant when he tried to describe Sev’s looks. Sev gave a little nod and returned to his seat, barely brushing Harry’s arm with his sleeve. Sirius sighed in exasperation and sat down again as well.

“Mr Potter?” That was the judge. “How do you know that Mr Snape did not prepare the Veritaserum you took today?”

“I’ve had his. It doesn’t have any nasty side-effects. He is a potions master, you know.”

“Are you saying that he administered Veritaserum to you?” Roland perked up. “When and why?”

“Oh, it was during my sixth year at Hogwarts. The fighting was increasing, and I was going to take a more active role. So I—” It sounded so juvenile now. “I didn’t want to do anything to someone else if I hadn’t experienced it myself.”

The judge again. “Could you be more specific?”

“If I was going to have to inflict pain on another person, I wanted to know exactly what it would be like. Well, I’d already had the Cruciatus Curse thrown at me, and Imperius, so I knew about the Unforgiveables.”

The jurors seemed a little shocked.

“But basically I tried out all the pain curses and hexes and all the potions I might have to use. And that was also really helpful because when I did start fighting, nothing surprised me. I mean, when I suddenly couldn’t breathe and my lungs hurt, I knew that someone was throwing an Asphyxiation Curse at me, so I didn’t freak out.”

One of the older women on the jury looked as if she were about to cry.

“Um... is this part of my official testimony?”

“Er. No.” The judge waved his hand, and Harry saw the scroll magically recording his testimony erase the last few sentences. “Madam Roland? Anything else for Mr Potter? And I believe that I would like to echo his request that you only ask him relevant questions.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Mr Potter, do you believe that you are above the law?”

Harry blinked. “Above the law? No.”

“Then why do you consistently act in a fashion that implies otherwise? You are rapidly acquiring a reputation for meting out vigilante justice. Isn’t it true that at a party at your house you found two guests going upstairs, took them prisoner, interrogated them, and Apparated them off the premises against their will? And we have already heard that you planned to execute my clients in cold blood. Do you think that your fame entitles you to act however you please?” Roland seemed to be delivering this speech to the jury.

“I believe that I have the right to defend myself and my—” Shit, how was he going to describe Sev? Well, he’d better just come right out with it. “My lover. And to be honest— well, you know, I can only be honest right now—” One of the jurors snickered. “My problem isn’t with the law but with those who are supposed to enforce it.”

The Veritaserum was making him babble, he noticed. “Let’s face it, the Ministry’s history doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. I mean, Cornelius Fudge was Voldemort’s toady for years before anyone noticed and bothered to do anything about it. And even now the Ministry doesn’t treat everyone as equal under the law. I’m sure you know this, Madam Roland, but perhaps the jury doesn’t.”

Harry stared at the jurors. Roland wasn’t the only one who could make speeches straight at them. “The only reason they’re holding this trial is because I wouldn’t let them drop the charges. So many people in MLE wanted to bury it all, because of who the victim was. Because of something he did twenty years ago. They don’t care that he did more to defeat Voldemort than any of them. Or maybe that’s why. Maybe they’re ashamed that they were sitting in their posh offices doing nothing while Sev risked his life repeatedly to save them. At any rate the Ministry would have let Malfoy and Bagman off scot-free, so that they could have another go at killing us.”

Harry was really, really rambling. “When the Ministry gets its collective head out of its arse, I’ll pay attention to their laws. Until then, sod them. If we did everything according to their rules, Sev would be dead, I’d be dead, Sirius would still be in Azkaban, and Remus would be in a werewolf halfway house. And all of you would be kissing the Dark Lord’s arse. Sod the Ministry,” he said again. “If it weren’t for the Weasleys, that place would be a total fucking disaster.” One last thing occurred to him. “Wow, I guess the Ministry is going to stop funding my business now. Hermione will be really angry with me.”

There was a stunned silence in the courtroom. At last the judge stirred. “Well, Mr Potter, after that vote of confidence in our system, I’d like to ... thank you for your testimony. That will be all.”

Harry stood shakily and left the room without looking back. In the corridor he leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. His head was still killing him. He heard footsteps. “You’d think they could at least put a chair out here,” he muttered.

A hand reached down and hauled him up. “Let’s go home.” Sev wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I’ll Apparate you.”

“I can Apparate myself.”

“I’ve no doubt that you can, but I’d rather not spend the next hour collecting various bits of you and piecing you back together.” Before Harry could protest again, they Apparated into their living room. Harry stumbled off to the bathroom; he desperately wanted to brush his teeth. When he came back, feeling somewhat refreshed, he collapsed onto the sofa. Sev took one look at him and called for Zippy, who appeared instantly, ears quivering slightly.

“Bring us some tea and dry toast, please.” There was a rattling in the floo and Sirius fell out. Sev looked at him and added, “And some sandwiches. Thank you.”

Zippy vanished.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” Sirius asked.

“Like shit. And I’m really angry that she made me say all those things. How long do you think it will be before the Aurors come to arrest me?”

The tea table, loaded with food, materialized with a little pop. Sev poured a cup of tea and gave it to Harry.

“I don’t think you’ll be arrested, Harry,” Sirius said.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Harry drank. “Hey, did you come here to help me escape?” He couldn’t work out why else Sirius would be there. “I hear New Zealand is nice.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’m here to offer support, but not to help you escape. I left Remus at the Ministry to talk with the judge and the barristers. Some of the Weasleys showed up too. It was decided—” He grabbed a chicken sandwich off the table and bit into it. Around his mouthful, he said, “that my presence there would be more provocative than helpful.”

“The same could be said of your presence here, Black.” Sev handed Harry a plate of dry toast and sat next to him. “Especially considering your appalling lack of table manners.”

Harry looked at his toast. “Do I have to eat this? Can’t I have one of those sandwiches? Oh, bacon butties... Sev? Please?”

“Do you want to vomit again?”

“Well, no.” He crunched into his toast obediently. “God, that was disgusting. Literally and metaphorically spilling my guts all over the courtroom. I’m just glad she didn’t ask more questions about us.”

“So am I,” said Sirius, getting back at Sev for the table-manners comment. “I learned more than enough, thank you very much.”

“Oh, Sirius, it wasn’t anything you didn’t already know. I wish you’d just get over it.” Harry paused. “Um, I think the Veritaserum is still working through my system. Sorry.” Something else occurred to him. “Shit, Roland could have asked if I’d ever touched Sev while I was his student, not just if he’d touched me.”

Sirius gave him a shocked look. “What?”

“Well, I hauled him off the field after the final battle. And I held his hand all the way to the infirmary.” Harry glanced at Sev. “You were unconscious. I thought it might help.”

“Your logic never ceases to astound me,” Sev said dryly.

The floo rattled again and Remus dropped into the fireplace neatly. He stepped out and was followed by Ron and Hermione.

“Had I known I would be hosting a Gryffindor reunion,” Sev remarked, “I would have brought out the cheap scotch.”

“I’m sorry, Professor Snape,” said Hermione. “Mr Lupin suggested that we drop in, but we’ll leave.”

“No, Hermione, stay,” Harry ordered. “Sev’s just trying to maintain appearances. He doesn’t mind.”

Sev arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware that there was a mind-reading component in the Veritaserum you took, Potter.”

“We’re only here to report on what happened after your dramatic testimony.” Remus picked up a sandwich and perched on the arm of Sirius’ chair.

“Oh yeah, I was trying to decide where to flee to. Remus, you’ve traveled all over the place. Where do you think I should go?”

“You’re wallowing, Harry.” Remus bit into his sandwich, chewed, and swallowed neatly. “You won’t be detained. They’re granting you retroactive immunity from prosecution for your testimony.”

Harry had a peculiar sense of anti-climax for a second. Then relief flooded through him. “Brilliant! How on earth did you manage that?”

“Oh, I didn’t do it.” Remus smiled. “It’s a good thing you excluded the Weasleys from your unflattering comments about the Ministry, however.”

“Ron?” Harry looked at his friend.

“No, my dad. And Mr Lupin helped. Oh, are those bacon butties? Can I have one?” Ron helped himself at Harry’s nod. At least Harry could have the sandwich vicariously.

“So? What happened?” Sirius asked impatiently.

“Well,” Ron said, “I found my dad and told him what had gone on. Since we all agree with you, it was easy to persuade him to talk to the judge. Er... did you know the judge is from the Department of Mysteries? The Mysteries people have always hated the MLE. So that helped you too. And then Mr Lupin pointed out that the court had let Roland ask anything she wanted and that they shouldn’t be surprised by your answers. And he mentioned that you might file a protest over being forced to take improperly-prepared Veritaserum.”

“Every little bit helps,” contributed Remus. He reached over and snagged another sandwich. “Oh good, roast beef.” He handed one to Sirius as well.

“Then my dad reminded the judge that they didn’t arrest you at the time of the assault, and in fact the entire Ministry basically followed your orders and put Malfoy, Pettigrew and Bagman into custody on your say-so. Dad said that if the Ministry turned around and said that you were wrong, the whole MLE would also be implicated.” Ron took a deep breath. “So that was it.”

“Wow,” said Harry. “Wow. Thank you. And thank your dad for me. No, I’ll owl him.” This with a glance at Hermione, self-appointed mistress of etiquette. “I’ll write him a nice thank-you note.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Plus, you know, the jury was on your side.” Ron grinned at him. “Must be those boyish good looks.”

“Really? I was positive that they’d turn on me after I said that about planning to kill Malfoy.”

“No, that business about putting all the pain spells on yourself really won them over.”

“Oh. Then it’s good that they didn’t ask me who cast the hexes on me.” He ate another piece of toast.

Ron stared at him. “Well? Don’t leave us in suspense. Who was it?”

“Sev, of course.” And Roland would have had a field day with that. “He knew all the ones that the Death Eaters would be likely to use. I couldn’t cast them on myself because I wouldn’t have been able to remove them. It’s really hard to undo a spell when you’re convulsing.”

Sirius stood up and paced around the room once, twice. He hadn’t been happy the first time Harry had told him that, either.

Harry drank some of his tea. He was becoming warm; he stood up and pulled his robe off. “That’s better.” He touched the snake on his arm. “Mobilitato.” He’d frozen it for his testimony in case it decided to move at an inopportune moment. Now it coiled down his arm and back up, as if reminding him of its powers.

“Merlin, Harry, do you live in those trousers?” Hermione asked.

Harry was wearing his leather trousers again, with a black T-shirt. “Sev likes them.” Damn. The Veritaserum. He cast a guilty look at Sev, who had on his stoic expression again. “Sorry.”

“That’s quite all right. I know that it’s not your fault that you can’t keep from spilling not only your secrets, but mine.” Sev stood up and went to the liquor cabinet. “Certainly there will be no repercussions. I would never do anything such as blatantly drink scotch in front of you while not permitting you to have any.”

“Oh, that’s unfair. No bacon, no scotch— what’s next, no—” Harry clapped his hand over his mouth and muffled his last word. Phew, just in time.

Ron looked as if he couldn’t decide whether he was horrified or amused. He decided on amused, and laughed. “We could have a lot of fun with this, you know.”

Damn. Harry wished he could lie and say he didn’t feel well and needed to be alone.

Sirius laughed too, and sat down again. “Yes, we could.” He made a show of thinking. “Let’s start out easy. Harry, what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve experienced so far?”

Harry blushed.

“This is already good,” said Sirius.

Sev wasn’t going to be any help at all. He had returned to the sofa after doling out scotch to Remus and Sirius and was sitting next to Harry with an expectant air.

“Okay, there are two things.” The first one would not make Sev very happy. “When Rita Skeeter wrote all those horrible articles in the Prophet and Sev read one aloud during Potions in front of the Slytherins.”

No one said anything. Harry rushed on. “And the other most embarrassing thing was—” He blushed again. “I was with Fiona and Miri came in and found us,” he said in a rush.

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “That’s what happened? Harry, that’s— that’s—”

“I know,” he said miserably. “It was a really awful thing to do.”

“Wait,” Sirius said. “I don’t think I have the full story here. Harry?”

“Well, um, I was dating one girl and shagging her best friend. I hate Veritaserum.” Harry grabbed Sev’s glass before the other man could protest and took a swallow. “And the first girl walked in on us. She screamed bloody murder. Thank Merlin I’d put up a silencing charm, otherwise every girl in Hufflepuff would have run in and seen my naked arse.”

There was a pause.

“That’s ... quite a mental image,” Hermione said blankly.

“Is that what put you off girls?” Ron leaned forward in his seat.

“What?” Harry didn’t quite follow where Ron’s question was coming from.

“Well, you know, after Fiona you didn’t— and then you—” Ron glanced at Sev, who was really being amazingly patient.

“Um...” His head ached. How to explain this? “It’s not that I’m off girls. I just— you know I was, um, that I always liked blokes too. Now I—” His head really hurt. He rubbed his temples. “I found the person I want to spend my life with.” He looked at Ron. “Please don’t make me get soppy here.”

“I second Mr Potter’s request,” Sev said firmly.

“Okay, okay,” Ron said hastily. “No soppiness. Um... Where’s the strangest place you ever shagged?”

Harry blushed again. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I do too,” said Sirius, clearly enjoying Harry’s discomfort.

“Ron...”

“Come on, Harry. Spill.” Ron was practically falling off the edge of his seat.

“Your bed.” He watched with malicious enjoyment as shock and horror spread over Ron’s face. “I told you you didn’t want to know.”

“My— my bed!” Ron turned even redder than Harry.

Even Sev seemed amused. Hermione was laughing.

“Who did you— who were you—?”

Harry smiled. “Theo Palmer.”

“Theo Palmer! I hated him!”

“I know.” Harry poured himself some more tea. “That’s why we did it there. Theo— um, it was his idea.” Harry managed not to say exactly how Theo had persuaded him. “It was one evening when you snuck out to meet Hermione in that empty classroom you two always used. Don’t worry, I used a cleaning charm after we were done.”

“You— that’s disgusting. My bed! That I slept in!” Ron opened and closed his mouth. “With Palmer!”

“What was so wrong with him?” Remus asked.

“Theo Palmer,” Ron announced, “was the biggest git I have ever met who wasn’t a Slyth—” He broke off as Harry and Sev both glared at him. “One of the biggest gits I have ever met. Pompous, full of himself, thought he was so clever—”

“Well, Ron, he did get the highest marks in Charms two years running,” Hermione said.

Ron went on. “I never understood what the big attraction was. He didn’t even seem that good looking.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Please. Theo is gorgeous! That olive skin and amazing hazel eyes— wow.”

Ron stared at her. “Is there something I should know about you and Palmer?”

“Ron, I’m only saying that just because you were jealous of him—”

“Jealous! What? You know I—”

“Fascinating though this little lover’s spat is,” Sev interrupted, “I feel that I am finding out much more than I ever wanted to know about Miss Granger’s tastes in men.” He poured himself another scotch and passed the bottle to Remus. “And very possibly about Mr. Weasley’s.”

Harry laughed. “I think Hermione just meant that Ron was pissed off because I was spending all my free time with Theo.”

“Well, I—” Ron paused. “He was just such a— such a git!”

Harry drank his tea. “Drop it, Ron. I liked Theo.” They’d had a couple of good months together before realizing that all they really had in common was lust. When that first rush of desire faded, the relationship had ended.

“All right, change of subject,” Hermione said briskly. “What do you really think of my new haircut?”

A month ago Hermione had shown up with her curly hair cropped into an abbreviated bob. Harry heaved a sigh of relief. “I like it.”

She looked triumphantly at Ron. “And Ron’s goatee?”

“Ugly as sin,” Harry said promptly. “Er. Sorry.”

Ron stroked the offending facial hair. “You don’t need to keep apologizing. We know you can’t help it.” But there was a mischievous glint in his eye. “What would you be doing right now if we weren’t here?”

“Dammit, Ron!” Harry’s head started to pound again as he resisted answering. Finally he said, very much against his will, “Sitting on Sev’s lap.”

Ron and Hermione had on identical expressions of surprise. Sirius was rolling his eyes, and Remus was looking distantly amused.

“You sit on Snape’s lap?” Ron blurted out.

“Yes. Frequently,” Harry said. “It’s very comforting.” And I could use a little comfort, he thought. He managed not to say it; perhaps the Veritaserum was finally wearing off.

“Give me back my scotch.” Sev snatched it out of Harry’s hand and drained it, setting the glass aside. “All right. I surrender. Clearly the whole damned lot of you are determined to wreak havoc on my carefully-crafted persona as a terrifying and emotionless monster.” He put his arm around Harry’s shoulders and drew him close. Harry resisted for a moment, then relaxed. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t just heard something much more embarrassing. And he had to give Sev credit for reining in his protective impulses for as long as he had.

“What about you, Sev? Don’t you have any questions for me?” He leaned his head on his lover’s shoulder.

“No. You always tell me the truth.” Sev began stroking his hair lightly.

Harry smiled. “Yes.” Since his seventh year, anyway.

“No more questions,” Sev ordered. “Resisting the compulsion to answer is what’s making him ill. I’m quite surprised that he lasted as long as he did in the courtroom. But I don’t want him to vomit all over my great-grandfather’s Persian carpet.”

“Right, then. Since the fun’s over, we’re going home now,” Remus announced, getting to his feet.

“Are we?” But Sirius stood up too.

“That’s our cue too, Ron.” Hermione walked over to the fireplace. “Thank you for the food, Professor Snape. Bye, Harry. Oh, and for the record, I won’t be angry when we lose our Ministry funding. But we’ll have to cut Amaryll’s so-called research budget. And you get to tell her.” She and Ron, who still seemed disconcerted by the revelation about his bed, vanished into the emerald flames.

Remus waited until the smoke cleared. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I think I saw Martin Carmichael today.”

“Ah, our unwanted guest. Perhaps he really is a reporter, then, covering the trial.” But Sev had tensed slightly.

“I don’t know. He was in the building, not outside with all the journalists.”

Shit. The tabloids were going to have a field day with Harry’s testimony. The testimony was supposed to be secret, but someone would talk, a guard or juror. Or Roland.

Remus went on. “It seemed to me that Roland knew more than she should have about the incident at the party.”

“You think he was investigating for her?” Harry asked. Fleetingly, he wondered how Carmichael had known that Harry would be at the club where Carmichael had tried to pick him up. He decided not to share this thought with the others.

“Perhaps. It might not be anything to worry about. The trial is almost over in any case.” Remus smiled. “And has ended with quite the bang, thanks to you.”

“And if you do need to run, Harry, I know some excellent islands. You’d like Mykonos, I think.” Sirius grinned and Disapparated. Show-off. Remus followed him.

“Alone at last,” said Sev. He petted Harry’s hair again.

“Yes. God, I thought they’d never leave. What a horrible day.” Harry sighed. “I think I’d like a shower and a bit of a lie-down.” He stood and stretched.

“Very well. Abandon me to my lonely fate.”

“Sev, I’m going upstairs, not to Outer Mongolia. You could come with me.”

“No, you need your beauty rest.” Sev smirked.

“Is that all you ever think about?” Harry said on his way out the door.

“You’re the one wearing the leather trousers.”

Hm. Sev had a point. Harry grinned and went upstairs for a much-needed shower. He climbed into bed naked and fell asleep quickly. He didn’t dream.

Harry awoke feeling revived. He rolled over and bumped into Sev, who was lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand. “Mm. Were you watching me sleep?”

“Perhaps.” A light touch to his scar. “Perhaps I was waiting for you to wake up.”

“Would the reason for that happen to be connected to the fact that you’re not wearing any clothes?” Harry shifted closer.

“Perhaps.” Sev put his hand on Harry’s back and began stroking it lightly, long slow caresses running from the nape of his neck to the small of his back and up to his neck again.

“You’re so sexy when you’re enigmatic.” Harry kissed Sev’s throat.

“Ah, I see that the Veritaserum has finally worn off.” The caresses dipped a little lower, running over Harry’s arse before trailing back up his spine.

“Here’s proof positive that I find you attractive.” He pressed his growing erection against Sev’s stomach.

“Are you tired?” A kiss fell on his cheek. “Still feeling ill from that incompetent’s misguided attempts at potion-making?”

“Not now.” Harry wrapped his arm around Sev’s waist and began sliding up and down slightly, rubbing his cock against the firm belly. He felt Sev harden against his thigh, and pushed more insistently.

Sev moved away. “Slow down, you impatient boy.” His long fingers were still running up and down Harry’s back. Oh no, he was in one of those moods. He pushed Harry to lie on his front and pulled Harry’s legs apart, kneeling between them. The strong hands returned to caress Harry’s back, arms, arse, legs. When Harry started rubbing his erection against the sheets, Sev gripped his hip firmly, stilling him. Then Sev leaned over him and began kissing and licking the back of Harry’s neck and shoulders. Harry tried not to squirm. He should never have let Sev know that the nape of his neck was one of the most sensitive spots on his body. After not nearly long enough, the delicious mouth moved down, bestowing little sucking bites along Harry’s spine.

Harry sighed in pleasure. He felt simultaneously relaxed and tense with anticipation. The warm kisses reached his cleft and veered off, traveling over his right cheek. One finger trailed lightly between his cheeks, paused too briefly at his opening, and continued down, stroking over his balls, which tightened under the touch. A hot tongue licked the back of his thigh; Harry felt soft strands of hair brushing his skin, and shivered.

Behind him Sev shifted slightly. The tongue moved to Harry’s inner thigh, gave one tantalizing lick to his balls, and vanished. Harry’s hands fisted in the bedclothes. Abruptly his right leg was bent at the knee and the tongue reappeared to tease the sole of his foot, just firmly enough so that it didn’t tickle. Harry was humping the bed by now; he couldn’t stop himself, especially when his toes were sucked into the wet mouth. Every place that Sev touched him was responding by sending a jolt of pleasure straight to Harry’s cock.

His toes were abandoned. He whimpered. Sev flipped him over easily and stared down at him avidly. “You are a banquet of sex.” That crushed-diamond voice. “I can’t decide what I want to do next.”

Harry sat up and bit one of Sev’s nipples lightly, flicking his tongue over it. “May I make a suggestion?”

“You may.” A gasp as Harry wrapped his hand around Sev’s prick and squeezed.

“Fuck me!” He wanted to be overtaken by his lover’s power and control, to feel that contradictory combination of vulnerability and strength that he experienced both in himself and in Sev every time they made love. He bent down and drew Sev’s cock into his mouth; a drop of come fell onto his tongue as he sucked gently.

A hand under his chin urged him up; Sev pulled him into a deep kiss. They were both kneeling on the bed now, bodies pressed together. The feel of Sev’s warm, smooth skin against him was intoxicating. The kiss ended slowly and Sev turned him to face the headboard. Harry bent over and grabbed hold of it, spreading his legs. A quiet moan behind him. He heard Sev open a drawer in the bedside table. The sound alone, familiar by now, made Harry even more excited. He realized that he was panting, unable to catch his breath.

A slick finger touched his hole, entered him in one smooth movement. He moaned.

“Do you enjoy that?”

“Yes!” Harry wriggled as the finger began moving in and out of him.

“Why?” A kiss fell between his shoulder blades.

Oh great, Sev wanted to chat. “Oh... Because you’re— doing it.” He gasped as a second finger penetrated him. “To me. With me. Oh god!” The fingers had turned within him. “Oh Sev. I just ... love having your fingers up my arse.” Saying it aloud was surprisingly exciting.

Sev moaned again, and the fingers withdrew and shoved back in hard.

“Yes— like that.” Harry looked over his shoulder.

Sev was watching his fingers plunge in and out of Harry’s arse, apparently riveted by the sight. He added a third finger and pressed Harry’s prostate. Harry’s cock jumped and he clutched the headboard desperately.

“Oh... And you love doing it.” He pushed back on Sev’s hand.

“Yes.”

Just that one word in the low purring voice was enough to make Harry’s cock twitch again. Sev pulled his fingers out and grabbed Harry’s cheeks, spreading him, then slid his prick in halfway. And stopped. Harry whimpered, and heard a chuckle. The man had far too much self-control. Then Harry was struck by inspiration. “I love having your cock up my arse, too.” That was definitely a gasp from Sev. “Love it when you fuck me. That feeling of your cock sliding in and out of me— ah!”

Sev slammed in, pulled out almost completely, and shoved in again. Success! Harry began pushing back to meet the thrusts. He shifted slightly and felt the head of the invading cock strike his prostate again. He clenched involuntarily, and Sev groaned, thrusting harder. He took one hand off Harry’s arse and put it on Harry’s prick. Harry hadn’t thought he could feel any more pleasure; he had been wrong. He was gasping now, feeling his arse filled repeatedly, his cock stroked by the warm hand. Electric shocks concentrated in his balls and raced through his body. Sev bent over him and bit at the nape of his neck, and Harry’s entire body tensed as desire and pleasure flooded through him. He came explosively. Dimly he felt Sev shaking against him, spurting his own orgasm into him. Harry lowered both of them to the bed cautiously.

After a few minutes Sev stirred and kissed the side of his neck. “Am I too heavy?”

“No,” said Harry dreamily. “It feels good.” All that warm weight pressing down on him, grounding him. He turned his head; their lips met. “Mm. I love you.”

“And I love you,” Sev whispered. He hardly ever said it. Happiness surged through Harry. He didn’t care about what had happened in the courtroom, about the repercussions when news of what he’d said spread through the wizarding world. That could all wait until tomorrow. Harry smiled.

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