Title:  Ley Lines

Author:  Joolz

Fandom:  Harry Potter/ Book

Category:  AU, Holiday, Drama, Angst, mostly pre-slash

Pairing:  Harry/Severus

Rating:  R for nudity.  No sex, sorry!

Summary:  A Solstice ritual could mean life or death for Harry and Severus.

Advertisement: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar -2005 at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2005/SAC-2005.htm

Notes:  The Isle of Iona is, in my experience, as described.  You can go there and try the ritual, but I won’t guarantee the same results. <g>  Many thanks to Lady Ra for the beta and great suggestions.

Feedback:  [email protected]

Disclaimer:  Not my lovely characters, just playing with them.

 

 

 

Ley Lines

 

The bus ride, with all its dips and curves, was making Harry travel sick.   The scenery was stunning, but he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing in hopes of keeping the fish and chips he’d eaten on the ferry in his stomach.  His head felt cold as though there was no blood circulating in it, while beads of sweat were starting to appear on his forehead.

 

“Look out the front.”

 

The voice startled Harry into opening his eyes.  He swallowed carefully and turned to look at his travelling companion.

 

Snape said, “Look out the front window and focus on the centre of the road.  It will help.”

 

Harry didn’t answer, didn’t want to risk opening his mouth, but did as his former professor suggested and leaned into the aisle to look past the driver’s shoulder.  The road was one track, without a centre stripe, but he watched as far ahead as the bends allowed.  It took a while, but the queasy, rolling nausea began to settle enough for his body to relax its rigid posture.

 

He risked a question.  “How did you know that would work?”

 

The answer held dry amusement.  “I’m an old man, Potter.  You’d be surprised at all the things I know.  Of course a potion would be easier, but I’ve made a point of finding non-magical alternatives whenever possible, just in case circumstances should warrant.”

 

That was Snape for you; always ready with Plan B.  At barely forty the other wizard was hardly old, and at just past twenty Harry had hardly led a sheltered life, but he still learned new things from Snape every day.  He didn’t think he could ever plumb all the man’s depths, even if he were allowed.

 

Harry said, “Well, thanks.”

 

“Purely self interest.  Were you to become ill, who would suffer from it the most?  This trip is uncomfortable enough without having to smell your vomit with it.  I’m much relieved to see the unbecoming green tinge gone from your face.”

 

His stomach feeling better, Harry looked at Snape again, studying the angular profile.  Travel sickness aside, having to take muggle transportation had its benefits.  It was allowing him to spend time with Snape out of their usual environment, something he never tired of.

 

With a grin he turned his eyes forward.  The long trip was almost over.  Leaving Glasgow early in the morning, the train had deposited them in the quaint town of Oban on the west coast of the Scottish mainland.  From there, they’d boarded the large car ferry for the crossing to Craignure on the Isle of Mull.  This bus had taken them past Loch Scridan and was rapidly approaching Fionnphort at the far tip of the Ross of Mull, a long peninsula on the southern end of the large island.  It was just past three in the afternoon and the pale winter light was already starting to dim.  Days were short at this time of the year.

 

Harry groaned with relief as they got down from the bus onto solid ground.  He didn’t have long to enjoy it, though, as they were immediately herded onto yet another ferry, a small one this time, for the short crossing to the Isle of Iona.  The boat’s crew were anxious to make the last trip there and back before night descended completely.

 

Crammed into the enclosed seating area, Harry watched the other passengers watch Snape.  Dressed in his down coat and jeans, Harry himself didn’t look at all out of place, but even in muggle clothing Snape looked exotic.  The man wore black jeans, a bulky grey wool sweater and a brown suede pea coat, with his hair tied back neatly, but his intense aura made it impossible for him to blend in.  Nearly everyone had looked him over carefully; some with eyes narrowed in distrust, others with barely concealed fascination.  Harry felt almost interesting just by association.

 

While travelling in this fashion had subjected them to muggle scrutiny, it had rendered them practically invisible to the magical world.  They couldn’t apparate to their destination, Harry knew, because they were conserving and cleansing their magic for the coming ritual.  But also, both he and Snape had distinctive magical signatures that could be sensed by any witch or wizard in the area.  They didn’t want anyone to realize their destination or intent, or risk being attacked in the open.  The battle against Voldemort and his Death Eaters had extended itself throughout the British Isles, and remoteness was no guarantee of safety.

 

After stepping onto the jetty in the deepening twilight, Harry and Snape carried their bags through the village of Iona and along the road heading north.  It wouldn’t take long for them to walk to their Bed and Breakfast, and Harry was glad for the exercise and fresh air.

 

After a few minutes, though, he began to feel odd.  It wasn’t an audible hum or a physical vibration, really, but rather a niggling awareness of a thrum in the back of his mind.  The hair on his arms stood on end.  He stopped and looked around in puzzlement.  “Sir,” he asked, “is there something…?”

 

His companion observed him with dark eyes.  “You are no doubt sensing the inherent power of the place.  Have you never felt this before?”

 

Harry thought about it.  “It’s kind of like at Hogwarts, deep in the dungeons, where the wards are centred.  Is the whole island warded?”

 

As they continued walking, Snape explained, “No, not in the same sense.  The wards at Hogwarts tap into something similar, but they were created and are maintained by wizards.  This,” he waved his hand indicating the treeless, hilly landscape around them, “is natural.”

 

Harry didn’t have a chance to ask anything else, as they had arrived at the cottage that would be their home for the next couple of days.  Mrs. MacNye led them up a narrow flight of stairs to a small room under the eaves of the attic with two single beds, a table and two chairs.  She then insisted on providing them with a full meal that Harry, suddenly famished, devoured gratefully.  While they ate, their hostess told them of how her husband and son had been lost when their fishing boat capsized in a storm several years previously, a story that could have been repeated in exactly the same words by thousands of women over the years.  When she offered them a dram of Islay single malt Harry was sorely temped, but followed Snape’s lead and declined in favour of tea.

 

Snape had said practically nothing during supper and seemed to withdraw further into himself upon returning to their room.  After changing into night clothes in the loo and placing one of the hot water bottles Mrs. MacNye had given them at the foot of the bed, the older wizard dug a book out of his bag, climbed under the covers and began to read.  It was as though he had forgotten that Harry was in the room at all, or preferred to pretend he wasn’t. 

 

There was something about the place that made Harry feel the external quiet within himself, too, and he left the professor in peace, crawling into his own bed.  He lay awake for a long time, even after Snape had turned out the light and fallen asleep.  Up until now he had given no more than intellectual thought to what they were about to attempt.  It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that they were here it was becoming all too real.  He was aware of how much depended on their actions the following night; their own lives, surely, but perhaps also the outcome of the battle against the dark forces.  While he had no doubt that Snape could do anything he put his mind to, Harry’s own shoulders felt too narrow, his back too weak, to carry such a weight.

 

Eventually the thrum of the island lulled him to sleep.

 

~~**~~

 

After breakfast the next morning they carried a pot of tea and two cups back up to their room and sat down at the small table.  Outside the window Harry could see the edge of the old Iona Abbey, the rippling waves beyond it and the cliffs of Mull beyond that.

 

Snape began formally, “Mr. Potter.  Do you have any last questions about the ritual or your part in it?”

 

He understood what they were supposed to do.  Albus had developed a spell that, when enacted under specific conditions, would kill all the Death Eaters with the Dark Mark linking them to Voldemort.  It was drastic and brutal, but perhaps less so than engaging in a war that could drag out for years.  The problem was that there was no way to shield Professor Snape from its effects.  Harry himself might also be killed since he was linked to Voldemort through his scar, and The Order was still counting on him to deliver the final blow to their nemesis.  

 

The ritual the two of them were to attempt that night would break their links with Voldemort, leaving them both free in a way Snape hadn’t been for years, and Harry hadn’t been since he was an infant.  If it worked, Albus could go ahead and perform his spell without endangering them.  If it didn’t work, a choice would have to be made between the spell to end all Death Eaters and their lives.

 

Did he have questions?  “Um, a few,” he admitted, feeling like a perpetual student.  “Why does it have to be exactly here and now?”  They’d talked about this before but he wanted to hear Snape go over it again.

 

Snape took a deep breath and answered with more patience than Harry was used to experiencing from the stern teacher.

 

“You sensed the power of the island yourself last night.  This is one of the major power points of the Earth, an anchor that binds and directs the channels of energy that flow around the planet, known as ley lines.  There is another such point in England at Glastonbury, but it is too densely populated to serve our purpose.   The explanation of the timing is quite esoteric and far beyond anything you were taught in school.”

 

Harry nodded encouragingly.  He’d accepted all this in the way he accepted any explanation of magic.  Why or how?  Just because.  He’d always suspected there was more to it, and now that he was here he wanted to know.

 

Snape went on, “I shall try to explain it to you in a way that you can comprehend.  The anchor points and ley lines are linked deeply into the fundamental Earth energy.  Part of the Earth energy is what we call Earth Magic.  It dates back to the formation of the planetary consciousness and by far precedes the emergence of Wizarding Magic.  This is what we will be calling on in the ritual, and the Isle of Iona has considerable history facilitating that interface.   It is an extremely powerful type of magic, and though humans have long been drawn to it, it has been some time since direct interaction has been a common occurrence.” 

 

Harry nodded again.  He knew that Iona was one of the main spiritual and political centres for the Druids, the ancestors of British wizardry.  That was until the Christian missionaries finally succeeded in driving them out in the sixth century.  Not coincidentally, Iona then became a centre of Christian spirituality and pilgrimage. 

 

The professor continued his lecture.  “When the Earth Magic is called on or invoked, a small bit of it comes forth to interact with the humans.  Or perhaps it is better said that it reveals itself, as it is never completely absent.  In modern times these magical entities, for want of a better term, have been called angels.  They have been called by other names as well, and are generally considered to be beneficent, though sometimes this quality is not readily apparent by human standards.

 

“So that is why here.  Why now takes us even farther back than the Earth energy.  Not only will we be calling on Earth Magic, but also on Cosmic Magic, magic that has existed in the universe since before the creation of our planet.  Tonight, on Winter Solstice, there will be an alignment of planets and astral bodies that will augment the effectiveness of our own magic and facilitate communication through the veil to the Earth element.”  Snape almost smiled.  “Or did you think you were forced to learn astronomy simply because of a perverse desire to make you miss out on your beauty sleep?”

 

Harry grinned back.  “I’m sure they told us something about this, but it always seemed so distant.  Less immediately useful than being able to transfigure someone into a ferret.  But it seems pretty immediate now.”

 

Snape smirked.  “Indeed.  You will be participating in something tonight that few living wizards have ever or will ever experience, beyond a small sect of geomancers.   I expect you to take it very seriously and follow my directions to the letter.”

 

“Yes, sir, I will.”  Harry grimaced slightly.  “Exactly how dangerous is this?”

 

“The danger is in coming into contact with power so far beyond our own.  That is also the opportunity.  Nothing short of it will suffice to sever the dark magical bond with Voldemort.  At this level, Mr. Potter, nothing is ever,” he paused a moment, “guaranteed.  It is not unlike what Catholic priests undertake during exorcism, though they would use different terms to describe the event.  Exorcism has shown itself to be quite uncertain, at best.”

 

“I understand.”  So, fine.  Nothing to be nervous about at all, Harry thought with an inner wince.  “Professor Snape, do you think that since we’ll be going through this together, and it’s kind of a big thing, do you think you could call me Harry?”

 

Snape’s spine stiffened and his eyes narrowed.  “No, I could not.”

 

Harry pressed, “But,” only to be interrupted.

 

“We have been forced together by necessity, nothing more.  We are not friends.”

 

“But we could be.”

 

“Mr. Potter.” The tone dried up any other argument Harry might have been considering.  Snape stood, forcing his chair back noisily.  “It is out of the question.  I am going for a walk.  I suggest you take the rest of the day to prepare and compose yourself.  We will set out just before dusk.”

 

With that the tall man swept from the room, dramatic even without his robes.  Harry’s brain was ambushed by the way Snape’s dark jeans clung to his thighs.  As the door slammed, he groaned and lay his head down on the table.  The two of them had been forced together by necessity quite a bit over the last few years and were getting to know each other well, Harry thought.  So why then, when Harry wanted more, was Snape, Severus, he corrected himself, so resistant to even admitting friendship?

 

The more Harry got to know the older wizard, the more attractive he was.  The striking appearance, the depth of knowledge, the bravery, the maturity and experience, the biting humour, and not least the magical power.  Scintillating, exciting, sensual power.

 

Harry was very aware of the allure of magical power.  It explained in part Voldemort’s success in seducing otherwise rational people to his service, including Snape.  And why Dumbledore also attracted so many followers, including Snape.  Harry had been told that his own magical power had the potential to equal or surpass that of Voldemort some day, which explained why there was no lack of people vying to get into Harry’s bed. 

 

So why was it that the more they got to know each other, the more formal and distant Snape became with Harry, except for the occasional moment of humour or camaraderie?   He knew that Snape liked him.  He knew it.   Unless that was it:  Snape was afraid of being influenced by another powerful wizard.  Harry wished the man he admired would trust him not to use the power against him.

 

Harry spent most of the day walking the shoreline, thinking philosophical thoughts about the fragility of human life, how very much he wanted to live and who he wanted to live with.

 

~~**~~

 

Light was beginning to fade as the pair left the B&B, each carrying a small bag.  They headed south along the road, through a metal gate and onto a dirt track that narrowed as they headed up into the hills.  Harry was glad for his Wellie boots as they slogged through the damp bog, being bleated at occasionally by sheep.  Soon they were out of sight of any habitation.  Iona was a small island, about four miles long and less than two at its widest, but the habitations were grouped on the northern end.  The rest was as wild as a landscape that has been sheep-grazed for a thousand years can be.

 

Just as it was becoming difficult to see in the dark, they topped a ridge and stopped. 

 

Snape declared, “We’re here.”

 

Harry looked around, wondering how he could tell.  The only landmark was a small stone structure, no more than a metre high, that on closer inspection turned out to be a fire cairn.  Snape laid kindling and sticks inside and started a fire.  When it was roaring, he brought a bottle out of his bag and poured the contents on the flames.  It was a potion that would assure the fire burned all night without having to add more wood.

 

Then Snape sat on a low rock and said, “Well, you might as well settle in, Potter.  We won’t start until near midnight.”

 

“Midnight?  It’s barely half four now!  That’s a long time to sit on a Scottish hillside in late December.”

 

The answer was droll.  “Yes, it is.  But it would have been a bit difficult to find this exact spot with torches, wouldn’t it?  Sit down and stop whinging.”

 

Harry frowned and looked around.  It appeared that Snape had found the only dry seating available.  He made sure his coat covered his arse and sat down on a hummock that only squished slightly, near the other man.  He grumbled to himself about his wet bum, growling stomach and the ‘we’ll fast before the ritual’ part of the plan, while being grateful that at least the weather was mild.  They would have been up there in a gale, needs be, but that would have been even less fun.

 

Then Harry started to notice something.  Outside the crescent of light cast by the fire cairn, the night was pitch black, except for flickering points of light in the distance that definitely weren’t houses.  One to the north on Iona, three in the direction of Mull.  He knew Snape didn’t want to talk to him, but the night was going to be even longer if he couldn’t say anything.

 

“What are those lights?  Do you know?”

 

“It’s Winter Solstice.”  Snape answered.  “Christianity may have conquered, but the old ways haven’t died out entirely.  We won’t be the only ones observing the longest night tonight.”  He pointed to the blaze farther up the island.  “That is Dun Auchabhaich, the hill above the Abby.  It’s more commonly used because it’s easier to get to.  We’re on Cnoc Druidean, Druids’ Hill.

 

Harry wondered, “Are they muggles or wizards?”

 

“Muggles, probably.  There was a time when our two worlds weren’t divided.  Some muggles remember that.”

 

Interesting.  “Do you think…”

 

“Potter!”

 

“Right, sorry, shutting up now.”

 

Harry sat still for a while and was rewarded by the clouds clearing, revealing a sky awash in twinkling stars.  The majesty was humbling, and he found it hard not to credit the concept of Cosmic Magic, distant though it may be.

 

Getting fidgety, Harry stood up and walked around – inspecting the fire, venturing into the darkness, always circling around Snape as though he were magnetized.  Eventually he pulled a thermos out of his bag and sat down near Snape, closer this time.  They shared hot peppermint tea, both drinking out of the thermos lid.  Snape grunted his thanks for the refreshment.

 

Harry was huddled in his coat, just starting to nod off, when Snape announced, “It’s time.”

 

Instantly awake and with butterflies jumping in his stomach, Harry got to his feet.  His mouth fell open as Snape calmly started to remove his clothes.  He’d known this was going to happen, but it was still a shock.  He’d never seen Snape in anything less than bulky, concealing clothing.  Well, except for the time his professor had been shirtless after a battle, but Harry had been afraid the man was bleeding to death, so it didn’t count.  Now that chest was bare and long fingers were unbuttoning form-fitting denim.  Harry’s eyes were drawn to the dusting of hair marred by scattered scars.

 

“Potter.  Hurry up.  I don’t want to have to stand around waiting while you catch up.”

 

“Right.” 

 

Harry pulled off his coat and laid it on the ground.  Then he carefully stacked each piece of clothing on top of it until he was starkers, toes freezing in the damp peat.

 

Snape barely looked at him, which was just as well considering how much his manhood had retracted due to the cold.  The older wizard proceeded to set out the few accoutrements they would be using in the ritual.  A large chunk of quartz, a stick of incense, a jar of wine, and the fire itself completed the arrangement.

 

“Are you ready, Potter?”

 

Harry forced himself to stop rubbing his arms and stand up straighter, facing Snape across the circle.  “Yes, sir.  Just like we practiced.”

 

“Very well.”  Snape paused and looked at Harry now.  Really looked at him.  “This will work,” he said.  “When this is over, you will be free to fulfil your destiny.  Your destiny, Potter, not Voldemort’s.  Whatever happens, know that your friends are very proud of you.”

 

Harry stared in shock.  Snape had never said anything like that to him before, but just the same, he thought it was the taciturn man’s only way of saying that he, himself, was proud of Harry.

 

He stuttered in response, “Uh, you too,” then cursed himself for his lack of eloquence.  Snape nodded at him anyway, seeming to understand.

 

Then the older wizard closed his eyes and started to chant.  The tone started out low, deeper than Harry could ever have hoped to go.  Snape’s rich voice seemed to drop straight down into the rock beneath their feet.  As the sound lightened and rose, Harry began to add the counterpart as he had been instructed. 

 

The language was older even than the Gallic spoken in the region.  Harry had been taught a rough translation so that the words would be infused with meaning as he spoke them, not just sound, but it was all deeply foreign to anything he’d known before.  The magic they were conjuring this night involved no wand waving, no spell or potion.  It went beyond that.  It was a magic that came from within; within himself and within the Earth. 

 

He began to feel it almost immediately.  While he and Snape had heard each other’s parts practiced, they had carefully not done it together to avoid invoking the mystery too soon.  Nevertheless, their voices now blended perfectly and it seemed that the world around them responded.  The ground, the air, the stars, even the sea below them were resonating, almost speaking along with them in a whispered echo.

 

Harry saw the other man open his arms outward, exposing his vulnerable body and calling the power to him.  It came.  Or as Snape had said, it revealed its presence.  A glow began to form between them, growing until it was roughly their size, and Snape signalled that the chant would end at the next stanza. 

 

When quiet fell, the glow remained.  Snape spoke the ritual words in English. 

 

“Thanks be to the Earth for hearing us.  Thanks be to the Sky for hearing us.  With humility we ask for your help.  With respect we ask for your help.  Brother Sky, Sister Earth, be one with us.”

 

Snape’s voice was like silk, like chocolate, like sex.  Harry couldn’t have refused him anything in that moment.  In fact he felt a stir of arousal, which he valiantly tried to ignore.

 

Then Harry heard a woman’s voice.  He didn’t know if it was a real sound, or just in his head, but it was clear.

 

“Children of the Earth and Sky, we hear you.  We hear your intention.  You wish to release the darkness that binds you.”

 

Snape, who apparently also heard the voice, answered, “Yes.”

 

The glow in front of them began to shift, coalescing into a solid form.  Harry saw a woman appear.  She was naked and gloriously beautiful, with a mane of auburn hair falling around her shoulders.  She turned to look at Harry and her eyes were cloudy grey, the colour of the sea under stormy skies.  Harry saw her standing there, but at the same time he knew that there was no woman in front of him.  It was just a way for his mind to interpret and deal with what it was experiencing.  He decided it didn’t matter.  Whatever she was, he loved her instantly.

 

Her head turned to gaze at Snape.  She said, “It is much that you ask.  It is a strong force that binds you.  What would you say if we could help only one, and not the other?”

 

Snape spoke without hesitation.  “Then help the boy.  He is the champion of the Light.  He will be the one to protect the world of man from the darkness that threatens.  He is needed.”

 

Harry opened his mouth to protest that no, it was Snape who was needed more.  That his knowledge and skills were what would defeat the darkness.  But her eyes met his once more and he was frozen in place.

 

She said, “As you wish,” and raised her hand.

 

It seemed to Harry that he was surrounded by a dense fog, like moisture suspended in air was brushing his skin, seeping into his lungs, making it hard to breathe.  He was completely under the control of something outside himself, something he didn’t understand.  Fear flashed through him at the awful sensation. 

 

Then it was as though he heard a pop in his head and the constriction began to ease.  As control started to return his panic subsided, but was replaced by profound lassitude.  He didn’t have the energy even to keep himself on his feet and he crumpled to the ground bonelessly.

 

Forcing his eyes open, Harry saw Snape take a step forward, then stop as the woman said, “Fear not.  Harry is fine.”  She turned to gaze at him where he lay on the ground.  When she smiled, Harry suddenly felt much better.  Much, much, better.  He felt light, like he could fly without a broom.  He got to his knees, but found that his body wasn’t responding with a coordination that matched his mood.  It wobbled awkwardly, and he sat down abruptly, a grin stretched across his face.

 

Snape watched him with his customary intensity, then sighed and nodded.  He said softly, “Thanks be to the Earth and Sky for releasing him.  The world of man thanks you for your gift.”

 

The woman turned back to Snape.

 

“And what of you, Severus?”

 

The other wizard looked confused.  “Me?  The boy was the important one.  He is the one who will right what is wrong.”

 

The stranger nodded.  “Yes.  Harry is mostly Light and is a counter and balance to this Tom Riddle, who is mostly Dark.  He will play an important role in determining the path of the humans who live on this part of the world.  This is pleasing.  But what of you?  Do you wish to be released from the Darkness as well?”

 

Snape bowed his head, but the woman reached out and lifted his chin with her finger tips.  When their eyes met, he said, “Yes, I would be freed if it were possible.”

 

She stroked his cheek gently.  “Severus, you don’t understand, do you?  Yes, this young man is bright and strong and helps to balance Light and Dark in the world.  But one such as you is even more blessed of Earth and Sky.  Do you know why?”

 

Snape stared at her with wide eyes, looking impossibly young all of the sudden.  He shook his head.  “No.”

 

“You, child, do not balance Light and Dark in the external world.  You have the infinitely more difficult and rewarding fate of balancing the Light and Dark within yourself.  Both are strong, so strong in you.  For you it is a choice which shall reign, and not an easy one.  What you choose touches us, Earth and Sky, so much more deeply.  Do you choose the Light, Severus?”

 

As Harry watched, the older man gasped and let it out, gathering himself to speak.

 

“Yes.  I choose the Light.  Will you help me?”

 

“All will help you, but it is something that you must do mostly for yourself.”  She motioned to Harry.  “This man was bound to the Darkness through no conscious decision of his own.  It was not difficult to break the tie to Riddle.  But you, Severus, chose to accept the Dark authority with full knowledge of its consequences.  It is deeply woven into your soul.  There are steps you must take to release yourself.”

 

Harry climbed to his feet, feeling more steady now if not exactly strong, and followed the conversation with fascination. 

 

Snape was totally focused on the woman.  “What must I do?  I will do anything to be free of this horror.”

 

Her expression was softly affectionate.  “It is so simple and yet so difficult.  You must accept yourself.  You must care for yourself enough to open to others and let them see you.  Only by ceasing to hide, will that which you conceal be banished.  Can you trust that you are good enough, that you are lovable enough to let others into your soul, to see yourself as a gift to others and the world?”

 

He looked unsure.  “I…”

 

The woman gestured toward Harry, extending a hand gracefully.  “Can you show yourself to him?”

 

As Severus met his eyes, Harry felt his heart expand in his chest.  He silently willed his friend, his teacher, maybe more, to say yes.  To say yes to Harry.  To trust him, to let Harry know him.  He wanted it so badly, for both of them.

 

Severus hesitated, fear battling with longing on his face.

 

Harry thought, please.  Please.

 

Severus opened his mouth, and the words sounded choked.  “I can’t.”

 

Harry wanted to cry out in denial.

 

The mysterious woman touched Severus’ arm.  “Why?”

 

“Because..,” the man struggled, his desolate eyes drinking Harry in, “because I am tainted.  He is so beautiful and pure.  To show myself to him would be to sully him.  I would rather die.”

 

Her voice was sad and gentle.  “That is one possible outcome tonight.  But what you say is only true in your beliefs.  Harry doesn’t find you tainted.  Nor do we.  If you can release that belief, you can be free.  Severus.  Hear us.”  Snape tore his attention away from Harry and turned to her.  “If you can release that belief, you can be free.  The decision is yours.  There is still much to do and little time left to us on this plane.  Look to the one you love.  See the love and decide.  Do you accept yourself?  Do you accept him?  You must decide now.”

 

Severus looked again to Harry, and the anguish on his face brought tears to Harry’s eyes.  How could Severus not see the beauty in himself?  How could he not see what a gift he would be to Harry?

 

After several tense moments, during which Harry once again found it impossible to breathe, the other man’s shoulders sagged and his face softened.  At first Harry feared that it was in resignation, but it wasn’t.  It was in acceptance.

 

Severus said quietly, “Yes, I will trust him.  I will trust him to see me and not be damaged.  I will let it go.”

 

Before Harry could whoop for joy, a bright light shot away from the woman and surrounded Severus.  Unlike Harry’s experience, what was happening to Severus was obviously painful.  He screamed and dropped to his knees, his head thrown back, face contorted in agony.

 

Harry stared, confused and afraid.  The woman looked toward him and said evenly, “It is a very difficult thing Severus is trying to do.  Few have succeeded.  None have succeeded without help.  Will you help him?  Will you be his champion as he fights with the Darkness in himself?”

 

Harry spoke for the first time since the being had appeared.  His voice was rough and sounded strange in his own ears.  “Yes.  Anything.  What can I do?”

 

“Just stay with him and hold him.  Your soul knows how.”

 

Looking toward Severus, desperate to ease his torment, Harry opened himself without moving physically.  He felt a part of himself rush across the space that separated them and surround the other man.  He gave himself to Severus.  At first there was resistance, but slowly he felt them melting together, merging, knowing each other.  Harry couldn’t measure the passage of time.  The experience was nothing his rational mind could describe or even understand.  It was a relaxing.  A feeling of ‘yes’.

 

Eventually the tension eased.  The pain faded.  The light around Severus’ kneeling form disappeared, and so did the woman.  They were once again on a Scottish hilltop, in the middle of the night, in late December, naked.

 

Harry stumbled forward and caught Severus’ body as it toppled over.  He wrapped his arms around the other man, holding Severus’ warmth to his chest.  He was starting to shiver, and Severus seemed to be unconscious, but for the moment Harry was happy.  So happy.  Everything was going to be all right.

 

Severus was several inches taller than Harry, and for all his thinness not light, but Harry pulled him closer to the still blazing fire cairn.  Having no other choice, he laid his precious burden down on the ground for as long as it took to gather up their clothes and grab their bags.  He wrestled Severus’ clothes onto his unresponsive body, his socks, his boots and then, his strength waning as the night’s activities caught up with him, Harry pulled his own clothing on.  He was fading fast, but there was no way he was going to let them die of exposure after all they’d just been through.  And considering all they had to look forward to.

 

Dropping to the ground as close to the fire as he could safely get, Harry pulled Severus on top of him and passed out.

 

~~**~~

 

Stars were still visible but the sky had lightened to a dark blue when Harry opened his eyes, so he knew it must be morning.  Probably eight o’clock at least.  The longest night of the year had passed.

 

The fire was out and the damp had soaked all the way through Harry’s clothes along his back and legs, which wasn’t comfortable, but his teeth were only chattering a little. 

 

Severus had fared better, laying mostly on top of Harry.  He responded to a light shaking by opening his eyes and jerking his head up.  His face hovering over Harry’s, Severus furrowed his brow and cocked his head curiously.  He asked, “Where’s my wand?”

 

Harry flung his arm out and fumbled around until he could grab Severus’ bag and pull it closer.  Severus dug his wand out, tapped it against Harry’s shoulder and said, “Calefacto”.  Instantly, a feeling of warmth and comfort enveloped him and Harry sighed.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

Now Severus shifted himself off of Harry, grimacing as his knees sank into the wet peat.  Harry sat up and looked expectantly at Severus, who blinked back at him vacantly.  Okay, so maybe Severus wasn’t quite himself yet.  Harry climbed to his feet, took the other man’s hands and pulled him up as well.

 

Harry reached up and cupped Severus’ cheek in the palm of his hand.  The slightly stunned expression didn’t change. 

 

Harry stretched up on his toes to kiss Severus lightly on the lips.  The older man still seemed somewhat bewildered.

 

Harry stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Severus, leaning his head against the strong shoulder.  After several moments, arms tentatively closed around Harry’s back, and then tightened more confidently.  They stood together quietly for several minutes, Harry soaking in the feeling of connection, finally.  They hadn’t gotten to thank the woman for what she’d done, but he reckoned that this was the best thanks they could give.

 

After a while, Harry stepped back, collected their ritual artefacts and Severus’ wand, stowed them in the bags, took Severus’ hand, and led him back toward the village, both of them stumbling a bit as they navigated the rough terrain on sluggish limbs.  When they reached the B&B, Harry drew Severus inside and toward the stairs.  Mrs. MacNye stared at them wide-eyed, but didn’t say anything.

 

In their room Harry helped Severus out of his clothes and under the blankets, then stripped and joined him.  They shifted and adjusted until Severus’ head was resting comfortably on Harry’s shoulder.

 

Harry asked, “Do you remember what happened?”

 

He could feel Severus frown against his skin. 

 

“I think so.  Most of it.”

 

“And we can talk about it later?”

 

“Yes.  I’ll try.”

 

Harry had to ask, “And you’ll let me love you?”

 

“I’ll try.  Don’t expect miracles.”

 

Harry chuckled.  “Why the bloody hell not?  I’ve just been through one, why not another?”

 

Severus raised his forearm and looked at the unblemished skin where the Dark Mark had been.  Then he brushed his fingers over Harry’s forehead, where there was no scar.

 

“You have a point, Harry.”

 

After a quiet moment, Harry said, “She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

 

Severus lifted his head to look at Harry.

 

“She?”

 

“Yeah.  The angel, Earth Magic being, whatever.”

 

Severus raised a sceptical eyebrow.  “It was a man.  A handsome, strong man.  He was beautiful.”

 

Harry smiled.

 

~~**~~

 

It was a growling stomach, his own, that woke him next.  The sky was darkening already; they’d slept the short day away.  Severus stirred, woke and leaned up to kiss Harry.  It seemed like the most natural thing in the world.  Then they showered and dressed and went to see if Mrs. MacNye had any food for them.

 

The next morning they walked down to the jetty to wait for the ferry.  They were going back to Hogwarts the slow way, since they didn’t yet know exactly how the whole thing had affected their magic.  Harry certainly felt different.  He still had the feeling that he could fly without his broom.  He’d have to try that out later.

 

People were looking at him and Severus, but it was mostly because they were holding hands, so he didn’t mind.  The ferry crew were wearing floppy Santa hats in honour of the holiday in two days time.  And now he knew how to avoid nausea on the bus, and was looking forward to having a pint of Newcastle on the big ferry, and maybe a nap on Sev’s shoulder on the train.  Life was good.

 

Before getting on the boat, Harry turned, looked back over the village and up toward the Druids’ Hills.  When it was all over, when balance was restored to their world, maybe they would come back.  It sort of felt like they had family here.

 

 

End

 

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