The voice under all silences. Chapter 40

[pekeleke]

THE VOICE UNDER ALL SILENCES. Chapter 40

The constant giggling in the corridors had been getting on his nerves all morning long. He'd woken up already out of sorts, due to another sleepless night riddled with his constant worrying about whether he should really accept Harry's invitation to go on vacation together or delay the inevitable for a little while longer. He was driving himself mad over the matter and the fact that he hadn't managed to gather enough courage to speak about his lack of experience with the auror bothered him no end.

Add to that the stressful experience of having to plan and then put into motion all sorts of preparations to accommodate his idea of having a Valentine-day celebration based on the traditional Magical-Jousting-Games of folkloric pureblood tradition and the last few days had become an absolute nightmare.

He'd been up before sunrise, helping Fillius with the charms that would sustain the formal jousting arena that they had decided to erect in the middle of the Quidditch pitch for the day. There was going to be Magical Dueling and Threstal jousting. Matches of Magical Levitation and Transfiguration challenges. There was going to be an enchanted maze, riddled with all sorts of traps and Magical distractions. They were planing to install an old fashioned potions-peddling stand where the children were being encouraged to brew small batches of relatively simple physical enhancers and mild make-up potions in order to sell them for a small profit. There'd be also a formal parade and a knight's ball just before sunset... The plan had been incredibly well received, for some reason. He couldn't really understand how it was possible that, by telling the student body that they'd be allowed to wear a token from their chosen and even dedicate their victories to them, in conformity with the ancient rules of formal courting challenges, he'd managed to achieve the seemingly impossible feat of having filled the library with hard-working students for days on end. Everyone had been busy cramming on charms and shielding spells, on potions and transfiguration, on defensive wand motions and hexes, in order to do their best during the games. It was just... incredible. He'd started to have a very good feeling about N.E.W.T results this year and had spent the last two days in a constant estate of exhilarated anxiety. Now if he could turn this event into a success he could bring it back each year as a Valentine's day tradition and that'll give the brats an extra reason to review properly for their tests a mere month before their finals...

He'd been helping Longbottom enhance a hedge of Light-Tangling-Knotgrass for the Magical Maze when Luc's owl had arrived, bearing the worst possible news.

Now he paced his office like a trapped tiger while his stomach churned with unbearable dread. He hated this. He hated it!. He couldn't believe that Edwardson had finally bowed to Greysone Rogers' demands and accepted to pressure him into taking a minimum of two apprentices for the benefit of both, the school and the Potioneers Guild.

The members of the board had been called to an urgent meeting that was going to take place just after noon. Luc had warned him that the meeting could become a political nightmare, as most board members were determined to maintain Hogwarts' independence from all other educational bodies and that included the British Mastery Guild of Potioneers and Alchemists that Rogers' headed. None of them could dismiss the sheer amount of revenue that having him accept just a couple of the crazy offers he'd received could bring into the school's coffers, though, and there was more than a fair amount of dissension among the board's members over the issue. There was a good chance that he'd end up being corralled into surrendering to the majority's desire for greater economical freedom.

His heart pounded with the horrible certainty that he was going to end up being pushed into doing something that he'd very vocally refused to return to.

These old men weren't going to stop demanding more and more from him at every step. They had already fallen into the trap of abusing their power to commit a veritable injustice against him. They'd seemed to have forgotten how they'd dared to ratify his illegally obtained position as Headmaster. One that he'd never wanted nor had bothered to apply for, in the first place. One that he'd been forced to accept on the Dark Lord's command. He'd never agreed to stay on after the war was over. He hadn't even imagined he'd survive. He'd been bloody unconscious for four years and none of that had mattered to anyone... They'd instated him in absentia and then kept him at the helm, when he wasn't even healthy enough to cope with the responsibility of assuming the demands of a working school, any working school, let alone one the size of Hogwarts!.

No matter what Albus' manipulating deals had been geared to achieve, the truth of the matter was that he'd never agreed to shackle himself to this wonderful institution, although he loved his new role with all his heart. Now they were preparing to push him even further. Having gone already way above all limits of what could be reasonably demanded of him, they were readying themselves to start blackmailing him back into teaching. They were trying to... manhandle... him into accepting the sort of chore that he felt truly unprepared to go back to. He'd been an unsuccessful, highly unpopular professor for twenty years. He despised the activity with a passion that had remained unmatched throughout his life. He wasn't willing to repeat that miserable experience. Not now that he didn't have to, but... if he didn't agree to do it, they might ran him out of Hogwarts and then... what?. He'd grown to love the job. He genuinely enjoyed it. He believed that he could make a difference here and he wasn't ready to be pushed away. Not yet...

His heart froze within his chest and his stomach churned with the bitterness of knowing himself trapped once again. He'd gone back to being the puppet of merciless old men. Back to being pushed and pulled for the purpose of achieving someone else's purposes. He was back to being... utterly powerless.

His eyes filled with dark shadows and he stopped beside the window, looking down towards the cheerful champion's banners that the children had began to hang all around the jousting arena. He felt cold down to his bones. He felt shattered with sorrow. He adored the challenge of coming up with new ideas to force the students into further learning, even if they assumed that they were only celebrating lover's day. There was so much still left for him to do here...

“Severus?”

He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard the floo and now turned around, startled. His shocked eyes settled on the enormous bouquet of red roses that Harry was carrying in his right hand and his throat closed with emotion.

“Malfoy sent me an owl and I... I had to come, see how you were doing. Here. I brought these for you. Happy Valentine's day, my love...”

He felt strange right at that second. He couldn't think of a single thing to say in reaction to the fact that Harry... Harry was right here when he needed him the most. He'd come all the way to Hogwarts to check on him. He was here in the middle of a working morning. In this day, of all days, carrying the most romantic of flowers for his benefit...

“Oh, Harry!...”

He'd walked straight into the boy's startled arms without bothering to think such action through and he found himself being immediately welcomed against that strong chest without a single hesitation. His forehead found shelter on the auror's shoulder and he felt something very close to comfort for the first time since he'd received Luc's blasted owl.

He could smell the heady aroma of the roses as the gryffindor swung his arms around his narrow frame and held him tightly. A warm palm traced a soothing path up and down the knobby line of his spinal chord and he allowed himself the simple pleasure of just... being. He knew that he needed the comfort. There was no point in trying to portray himself as a strong and distant man, one who'd be perfectly able to cope with the awful prospect of going back to teaching. He wasn't that man anyway, and trying to fake that he was would end up with him losing this moment forever. He wasn't going to deny the fact that he felt overwhelmed and under attack. He wasn't going to even attempt trying to convince Harry that he didn't need help. That would lead them both nowhere and would result in him losing all the comfort that the boy had come to deliver and he actually wanted to receive.

The thought brought with it a flash of sudden clarity and he understood for the first time that he'd been doing just that every time he doubted the wisdom of accompanying the brat in his short Holiday. He was trying to... resist having to explain how very vulnerable he felt about the prospect of becoming even more intimate. He was trying to save himself the embarrassment of confessing his virginity to Harry and portraying himself as someone who simply... lacked the courage to forge ahead and commit to their relationship completely. He could not continue doing that any longer, it'd leave them both stranded in a never-ending limbo. They could not become snared in this stressful vacuum forever. One or the other would feel the need to move on eventually and then what?... Was he really willing to lose the chance of becoming even closer to his partner? Was he so intent on saving face that he actually found value in the idea of continuing with this incessant dithering? How many more precious moments of this kind of togetherness was he willing to give up because of fear?... How much longer was he going to remain a slave to self-shame? How much longer would he live his life in this loop of denial? How many more weeks, or months, of his future was he willing to waste on uncertainty?.

“I'm going to Wales with you, Harry” He spoke quietly into the auror's shoulder and witnessed the boy's surprised response almost at once. The muscle under his head shifted, bringing Harry's collarbone into a half a twitch of startled reaction. The hand that had been so busy, tracing soothing patterns on his back a mere second ago, was raised towards the nape of his neck in a gesture that silently demanded for him to lift his head. Obeying that unspoken request didn't feel forced at all. It felt more like a concession that he'd granted out of simple generosity and, when their eyes finally met, he could have drowned in the blinding beauty of the sheer emerald fire that was trying to read his very soul.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured into coming. I need you to be certain, Severus. We can stay right here for the holiday if you really want to play things safe”

His smile was rather wobbly but he tried to offer it genuinely. He stepped away and watched Harry's arms drop off him with flattering reluctance. The beautiful bouquet of crimson colored roses that the auror still held caught his attention once more and he nodded towards it.

“I believe you have no trouble with introducing your own idea of romance into these walls, Mr Potter. I don't think staying back will keep me safer”

Harry laughed, offering him the flowers with a flourish.

“This old twigs? I just got them from a stand on my way in. Couldn't let my own beloved feel forgotten on this day, could I?”

He shook his head in wonder, a soft smile curved his lips as he lifted potion-tainted fingertips to touch the silky-soft petals with a sort of bashful longing.

“I didn't think of getting you flowers. I was planing to dance with you in the firelight of my office. Dull, huh?. I'm afraid that I'm not very good with the kind of bold and generous gestures that you so effortlessly excel at. I'm rather useless at romance.”

“Don't be so whiny, Severus. A quiet session of gentle dancing around your office sounds like a perfect way to unwind after the madness that awaits all of us with this afternoon's tournament”

“Whiny? I thought I'm one of the bravest men you know, Potter. Have you changed your mind about that already?”

Harry's hand rose to graze against his chin, tracing the sharp lines of his closely shaved jaw with careful tenderness and it was clear to him that his auror had, once again, read him like a book.

“No. I haven't changed my mind and I'm not planning to do so in this lifetime, either. I've been told that my stubbornness could drive a stone statue to drink and I'm willing to put that theory to the test with regards to this matter. You'll tire of me before I do, Severus. You'll cast me away before I leave you. I'll stay right here until you force me to go and, even then, I'll still belong to you until my lungs take their very last breath. Do you understand me?”

His eyes burned with the effort of not blinking. He'd been rendered speechless by the boy's beautiful words. His heart ached with a fierce longing to find something equally exquisite to gift him in return but his brain had switched off and he... he couldn't find a single sentence that could even begin to describe the tangled web of emotions and desires that were running through his head, setting his heart on fire.

“I don't think I'm capable of casting you away, Harry” He stammered, in flustered response, and promptly managed to blush to the tips of his ears like a bloody schoolgirl.

Harry smiled at him brightly, following the heated path of his blush across his cheekbones with a rough-tipped thumb.

“That's perfect, my love. Just perfect!. There's no need for all this shyness between us. Look at me, Severus!. We'll have dinner here and dance, just like you planned. We'll stop the declarations now, if they make you this uncomfortable, and enjoy each other's company with the understanding that this day belongs to us, too. I'm in love and you are right here: perfectly healthy and conscious for the first time in four years. I wanted to bring you flowers, OK?. You don't have to say you love me back. You don't have to try so hard to fit in with the spirit of this day. You will tell me exactly how you feel when you are ready to do so, and that'll make that wonderful moment even more special. I need you to tell me how you feel because you want to, not because you think I wish to hear it. Or because you think that I deserve it. Definitely not because is Valentine's day...

But I want to have the evening that you'd planned. I want to dance with you by the firelight in your office and listen to soft music in your arms. I wonder what words would convince you to sing softly against my ear... I'd love to feel the magic of having you croon a ballad while you hold me, as tightly as possible, against your heart”

He blushed even more furiously and took an instinctive step backwards.

“What?. No!. I suck at singing, Harry.”

Uproarious laughter exploded in the next second from the smiling lips of the blasted brat and he floundered with the horrified sense of sheer embarrassment that flooded him from head to toes.

“You don't have to sing, you know?. I just meant that I'd love to hear you, that's all. Having that voice of yours singing rough-toned verses against my ear is the one thing that could have me melting in a puddle of soppy goo within a minute, Severus. You've got to lighten up, you know? Romance doesn't have to be perfect, it just needs to be heartfelt”

He didn't know what to answer to that, either, so he took the coward's way out and focused on the roses.

“They are beautiful. I should find a vase for them before they get spoiled.”

With a quick flick of his wand he conjured a tall crystal container and filled it with water. An instant later his flowers lay within it and he set the whole thing atop his desk with a deep sigh. He stood and stared at them, feeling inexplicably saddened and his shoulders sagged with dejection as he brought a trembling hand to rub his own forehead soothingly.

“Severus?”

Harry's hand came to rest on his tense shoulder and he managed to relax ever so slightly under the contact. His eyes closed. His pulse was thundering anxiously against the fragile skin of his wrists and he felt, literally, overwhelmed by the crazed roller-coaster of emotions that he'd been forced to confront in such a short span of time. The moment stretched into pained silence and he remained nailed to the spot, like a brainless, dazed, lump. He couldn't find the strength to move away, but now he was too nervous about the prospect of their evening dancing together to lean back and find refuge, once again, within the protective cocoon of the auror's arms.

A callused palm followed the tense line of his right shoulder, all the way down that thin limb towards his wrist and then it retraced it's path, rubbing the whole arm soothingly twice more before curling decisively around his bony wrist in a clear attempt to get him to turn around.

“Is this about the tournament, the board meeting, or about us, Severus? Surely you realize that nothing is as dire as your attitude implies, don't you?. You are going to be fine, you know? The grounds are looking great and there's not much else that you can do past providing the kids with proper food, a reasonable level of safety and plenty of music. This was a great idea, I've heard nothing but praise towards you on my way in and it's been like that every day since you announced the games.”

Some of his tension left him then and he allowed himself to be turned around, forced himself to look straight into those worried emerald eyes that were studying him so intently.

“The children are happy. They've all worked so hard for this and I... I never imagined that I'd enjoy being Hogwarts Headmaster this much, Harry. I think I'm beginning to understand Albus at last. It's such a privilege to be allowed to come up with all these ideas. Everything excites them into doing better. Everything interests them and allows them to think laterally. I was always so focused on my own dogged determination to fill their heads with potions that I totally forgot the bigger picture. I just... everything would be simpler if only the board would step aside and let me do the bloody work!. Now they'll force me to teach some pompous idiots, who have decided that they need to have my name attached to their mastery title, in order to earn the privilege of continuing doing this. It's a nightmare. Just a nightmare. I wish Edwardson had the balls to send Rogers' packing, but I guess the lure of all those galleons was too much even for him.”

Harry looked at him pointedly, gaze dangerously narrowed into an expression of outraged displeasure.

“Did they really said you've got to earn the privilege of continuing doing this job? Are they crazy? You are the best thing that has happened to this school in years!. They can't be serious... They've got to be bluffing, Severus. They are trying to pressure you into doing what they want and you are falling for their lies. What in the bloody Hell did Malfoy tell you in his letter?”

He shrugged himself free of the boy's loose hold and walked around his desk before plopping atop his chair with despairing dejection.

“He said they've called for an urgent meeting to discuss the issue and that Rogers will be present. Then he attached a copy of Edwardson's note to him for my perusal and signed off with the warning to come properly prepared”

Harry sat across from him, looking pensive.

“Did Malfoy clarify if he's going to back you up?”

He could not understand the odd question and his eyebrows came together in a truly puzzled frown.

“Back me up? You make it sound as if I'm going to war.”

Green eyes looked straight at him in a blatantly open challenge.

“Aren't you? These old bastards are messing with you, Severus!. They do nothing all year round except coming to these meetings and sign checks. What do they really know about the curriculum that you teach or how fresh all potions ingredients have to be for them to be really effective in a class? What do they know about the new sport's program that you created or your Internet network? What do they know about motivating children to work better? They know nothing about it. Nothing!.

This isn't even about the school, this is just about money. Money that they don't need, by the way, because we all know that Hogwarts' funds are guaranteed by the Ministry and they'll never run out. So... If Edwardson has bowed to Rogers' pressure then there must be some other members of the board giving him a hard time about this. I know that wily old bastard and I'd bet my whole year's salary on the point that he is praying for you to just... refuse!. I'd go as far as to assume that's why he send this awful little letter to Lucius Malfoy, of all people. He must have been counting on your friend's loyalty to you. He wanted Malfoy to warn you. He gave the both of you plenty of time when he scheduled this meeting so late in the morning... Why can't you see this?. It's all so simple!. You three are being so slytherin about this that you are all failing to communicate effectively with one another. If someone else is pressuring Edwardson to bring this to a vote, then his hands are going to be tied, unless you object.”

He stared at the letter that Harry had picked up from his desk with widened dark eyes. He'd never thought about any of it in quite those terms, but... yes. That did make sense, only...

“How can I object? They'll laugh me out of the room!. They'll fire me on the spot and then I'll be forced to leave. I won't be allowed to stay and do whatever I can for the children anymore. I don't want to be cast away from Hogwarts. Not now. There's so much I still want to do here that I...”

Harry's chair screeched loudly when the boy pushed it aside to come and kneel beside him. Gentle hands curled around him and a pair of softened green eyes pinned him to the spot with a fierce sort of intensity.

“You are so blind... None of them will have the balls to fire you. None of them will be allowed to, anyway. Edwardson is waiting for you to tie his hands down, Severus!. Someone wants him to put Rogers' interests before yours and they'll do exactly that, if you let them. But if you refuse to bow down, then it'll be a choice between keeping the Headmaster of Hogwarts happy enough for him not to walk out on the school and the greedy machinations of the head of the Potioneers Guild. That choice will be a no-brainer for Edwardson, I promise you. He'll happily support you and so will Malfoy. With nothing else to gain, and everything to lose, half the board will follow the example of those two anyway.”

“Rogers has a lot of political clout, Harry. He belongs to one of the more prominent pureblood lines there are. Two of his brothers are members of the Wizengamot and the amount of power that he can wield against me can crush me out of his path like a small bug”

There was a tinge of heartbroken pity in Harry's limpid gaze. The boy held tightly on to his hands and pressed on them in a silent, reassuring gesture that felt almost... fervent.

“You've got to believe in yourself, Severus. Don't you see that no one will treat you with respect, unless you force them to?. No one has the power of making you do anything, unless you let them!. The war is over, my love. There are no more life-or-death decisions to make anymore. There's no more need to decide that keeping you safe isn't worth the risk of losing the kind of information that you helped us collect. There's not a man alive today who deserves the great honor of having you bow before him. You've got to trust me on this!.

There's nothing more to this situation than a simple clash of wills. Rogers' knows you. He believes that he can make you back down, but he doesn't have more power than you do. Nor does he have more supporters. He doesn't have a single weapon in is possession that he could possibly use to force you into submission. Not against your will. His only advantage is your own lack of self-confidence. Your instinctive assumption that you'll be the one left out in the dust, if it comes to a confrontation. He isn't worthier than you. Not in any way!. Definitely not within these walls. This is only about money and if you go down to that meeting and force those bastards to make this about yourself, then there's not a single member of the board who'd dare to try pushing your back against the wall.”

He pondered that assessment for a long second. Dark eyes widened with the kind of shocked understanding that he would have never dared to contemplate, if the gryffindor hadn't come right out and pointed him in that direction.

“Will it really be so easy? What if you are wrong, Harry? What if I risk it and end up loosing my position here anyway? What if there's some other issue that we aren't seeing?...”

“Then you risk, and you lose, and you take it in your stride. You walk away on your on terms, unless they are willing to let you stay also on your terms. If you bow before them now, you'll be bowing for them constantly in the future. You would have lost the board's respect and their willingness to try keeping you happy. You'd have shown them that they have the upper hand here and no one will give you what you need. Not when you need it, anyway. They'll make you beg for everything just because they can. Powerful men are all the same underneath their exquisitely tailored robes. Instinctive ruthlessness is their unanimous response to perceived weakness. You don't have to become anyone's slave for the sake of the school. You don't have to beg anyone to do this job. You are Severus Snape, War Hero, famous spy, acclaimed potions master!. You don't need anyone's permission to live your life the way you want to live it, and anyone who even tries to force you into believing anything else should be told to go to Hell, Severus!”

His hands shook as he untangled them from the boy's. His pale digits rose towards his own head and he ran them through his black hair in the kind of nervous gesture that he rarely allowed himself to indulge in while in another's presence.

His eyes closed and he breathed in and out, trying to find some sort of calm to think this through. Trying to see clear to his own thoughts under the myriad of tangled ideas that the gryffindor had just bombarded his mind with. Did he really believe that he could confront Rogers openly about the mentorship applications and come out the winner? He couldn't really begin to imagine how nasty that particular battle could become. It'd be so much easier to just... give in, but...

He'd been pushed around all of his life. He'd been a follower and a victim of relentless bullying in one way or another. He'd learned to give up, whenever someone stronger put him under pressure, and he'd done it at every stage of his childhood and adolescence. He'd done it right until the very second when he found himself dying on the floor of that Merlin-forsaken shack...

He didn't want to be a victim any longer. Was he willing then to reach out for freedom, even if it cost him Hogwarts?. His eyelids trembled open and he looked up at the walls that surrounded him. The former Headmasters' portraits shone in dustless splendor under the delicate morning sunlight and he knew that, even if he left the school tonight, he had still been at the helm for long enough to walk away leaving something behind him. His Internet web was up and running. His sports program would be difficult to scrap and his new reward-system... they might even keep that, if the children protested hard enough.

He might not have done everything he wanted but he'd done something. He wouldn't have been able to achieve any of that if the board had constantly defied him. If they'd shackled his every initiative to a long list of school rules, or historic references, or whatever else they had cared to drum up. No. He wouldn't be properly able to help the school, unless he held every rein within his hand. Hogwarts deserved all or nothing. It deserved a Headmaster who was willing to risk everything for it. It deserved to have a man of courage at its helm, and if he couldn't find enough bravery to defy a single, greedy man, then... what were the chances that he would be strong enough to defend the school's interest when it's enemy was something far more dangerous?. Albus... Albus wouldn't have allowed anyone to mess with him this badly...

He looked down once more and his grateful ebony gaze settled over Harry. A soft smile curved his lips and he whispered in a choked promise:

“Whatever happens this afternoon, brat, I'll sing you a bloody song for Valentine's. When we dance in the firelight tonight, I'll tell you exactly how you've taught me to be stronger. To dream boldly. To be... more than I've ever been before. I'm going down to the conference room now, but... I'm coming back to quick-start my games and, after that, we'll have our own lovers' day celebration. We'll dance until we are too tired to blink and then I'll sing for you, Harry.”

A bright smile broke across the young features of his gryffindor and those emerald eyes blinked with a sort of dazed fire.

“Really? I think I'll end up fainting, like one of your crazy fans, if you do that for real”

Laughter bubbled up in his throat and burst forth from his curving lips when he decided that he couldn't really be bothered to suppress it.

“You'll faint? Seriously? The Saviour himself is going to swoon at my feet for a mere song?”

Harry came to a standing position and threw his arms exuberantly around in a wide arch. He turned on the spot surveying the whole office through half-lidded green eyes.

“This will be our first Valentine's day together and we are going to spend it dancing by ourselves before we end it with a song that you are singing for me. Yes, I'm willing to swoon for that, Headmaster. I'll go buy you more roses so that we can spread their petals on the floor and dance barefooted over them. I want this place to smell like a dammed garden when you hold me in your arms and sing me a ballad...”

His eyes darted towards the Tempus panel that hung just beside his door and he realized that he didn't have much time, if he wanted to reach the conference room early enough to exchange a private word with Luc.

“Harry, I have to go...”

He rose from his own chair hastily and started to cross the office towards the entrance, mind already buzzing with a million and one variations of the sentence 'piss off' that he planed to hurl at Rogers' greedy face. A strong hand curled around his wrist as he passed the auror and he was forcibly detained for a second.

“I know how much you love this school, Severus. I know how willingly you'll sacrifice yourself for it. Rogers probably knows that too, but... there are times when letting something you love go, in order to get it later on your own terms, will make you happier than compromising. I could have decided not to take that dose of Felix-Felicis... I could have just gone to visit you and allowed Draco to bring you home, like he wanted. I could have mooned over you for years and you might have, eventually, decided to stop hating me. But we wouldn't be here, about to share valentine's day as a couple, if I had taken any of those roads. You have to fight for your own terms, my love. Sometimes that's the only way forwards...”

He brought his free hand up and curled it against the warm skin at the nape of Harry's neck, bringing that messy head closer to himself. His tall frame inclined down very slowly and the silky texture of the auror's hair tickled the very tip of his long nose when he closed his own eyes and pressed a single kiss against the boy's forehead.

“I believe that you are right, for once. How is that for a shock to the senses?”

A soft gasp fluttered against the puckered skin on his neck, directly where the scar left by Nagini's bite marred his pale flesh and he shivered in reaction. A second later Harry's head jerked slightly away and a pair of narrowed green eyes searched his own.

“Are you sure?... Then I think I'll let you go kick as much old butt as necessary. But you must come back straight to my rooms so that I may go down to the tournament accompanied by the handsomest Headmaster this school has ever seen. Then we'll dance and you'll sing and everything will be perfect”

He smiled despite the thick knot that was tightening his throat, attempting to force him into silence. His lips curved up slightly and his ebony black eyes warmed with undisguised affection. He pressed Harry's shoulder lightly before letting it go.

“Yes. I believe that everything will be perfect, Harry Potter. Even If I end up singing like old Binns on Hallows Eve you'll smile and look at me dreamily, won't you?. You'll have to, you foolish gryffindor. You should have kept mum about this and never, ever, implied that romance doesn't have to be perfect. Now you'll have to live with my attempts to take refuge behind the idea that it only really needs to be... heartfelt”

TBC... 

Ch39

Ch41