Confluence
Part One
Harry watched the happy couple dancing in the Weasleys' garden, amid friends and family. He watched from the sidelines, tucked away under a tree near the fence that surrounded the property, while nursing a tall glass of pumpkin juice.
Ron was staring at Hermione, Harry saw; she wasn't paying any attention to him. Instead, he saw that her attention was focused on Ron's older brother, Charlie---who was having a serious conversation with a girl Harry didn't recognise.
He sighed and looked away. His green eyes turned their focus onto the horizon; the summer sun was setting and the sky was turning from a brilliant orange to the blue of twilight.
It was beautiful. Being a teenaged boy, he could easily admit that he never took much time to appreciate the simple things in life, like sunsets. But, as he stared off into space, he decided that if he survived the next year he would take plenty of time to appreciate everything he had previously taken for granted.
When he heard the distant sounds of Hermione's shriek and Fred's and George's laughter, he smiled sadly and thought about what his friends had offered.
They couldn't go with him. He didn't want them to meet the same fate that was waiting for him. They wanted to help, to fight, but he didn't want them to die for him. He lost Sirius and Dumbledore---and Harry felt that Cedric would still be alive if he hadn't shared the trophy cup.
There was too much loss. If he lost Ron and Hermione... it would be too crushing, too suffocating. It would be too much to bear.
"Harry?"
He startled at the sound of Ginny's voice. He felt his stomach flop; her voice, since their stolen moments and delicious kisses, had that effect on him.
"Hi, Ginny," he said softly.
She smiled and took off her wide-brimmed straw hat. As she toyed with the blue ribbon that was wrapped around the hat, she said, "You slipped out awfully early."
Harry sighed. "I... I wanted to get out and think on some things."
"Like?"
"Ginny..."
She tossed her hat at him and then sat next to him, leaning against the trunk of the tree as she stretched her legs out. Harry felt her sweet scent wrap around him; he tried not to look at her perfectly painted toenails as he struggled with ignoring the effect she had on him.
"I can listen, you know," she murmured.
"I know," he replied quietly. "Thanks. I just... I don't know what to say yet."
"Let's just sit," she suggested, putting a hand on his arm. "Alright?"
"Alright," he agreed, glad that he wouldn't have to answer questions or offer up his secret thoughts. "Let's just sit."
After the sun disappeared behind the hills, Ginny sighed and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. He smiled sadly, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and closed his eyes.
Part Two
St. Louis was a hard city to get used to, Harry thought to himself as he walked down the street in the middle of the night.
He was sure that part of it was that it was an American city, and he wasn't used to being in another country; but, another part of it was definitely the vampires and wereanimals that walked among humans. Laws defending vampire and wereanimal rights! Laws recognising vampires' and wereanimals' very existence! It boggled his mind.
But, he was glad he was there. He was glad to get away, to be himself among a city of strangers; after recently sneaking into the orphanage of Tom Riddle's childhood and stealing two of Voldemort's horcruxes, he decided to give himself some distance from the Death Eaters, and from the danger he would be in when Voldemort discovered what he had done.
At first, he had disappeared into New York City. It seemed like the proper place to go, for an American experience. But, after he stumbled into a university library and started flipping through some pretty interesting journals, he discovered that St. Louis was where he wanted to be.
His job wouldn't be done until all of the horcruxes and Voldemort were dead; he couldn't escape it. Stumbling upon articles about necromancy, spiritual power, and a woman named Anita Blake, while in a university library with his very American cup of Starbucks coffee, was too much of a coincidence to ignore.
Fate kept bringing him back to the reality he left behind.
It had been two weeks since he moved to St. Louis. It took him some time to find an apartment and settle into a routine---and, he was afraid to speak to this woman. He knew where she worked, but he also knew she would refuse the case he would present to her. No one was allowed to raise a murdered corpse because of the threats it imposed upon society at large (and the murderer). But that was in the United States; Harry wondered if he could lure this necromancer to a country in which there was no recognition of this power, to a subculture that was hidden from the Muggle world, and convince her to perform her job there.
But, he was afraid to hear her say no. If she said that, his hopes would be dashed and he didn't know what he'd do then.
It was a logical plan. Destroy the last horcrux, and unearth some of Voldemort's victims, in hopes that they would go after the dark wizard. If zombies really destroyed everything in their paths, Harry guessed they would do their worst on the Death Eaters that stood in their way, and then settle the playing field a bit.
They were not Inferi---so, Harry wondered if they had the same aversion to fire. That would be a problem... but he felt he could find a way to work around that.
It felt right---to be in St. Louis, to be wandering around the sidewalks at night, to be experiencing life without the stigma his scar usually brought upon him---even if he didn't have the answers and information he needed.
The sidewalks were surprisingly busy at night, he noted silently. He found it odd that people would willingly walk around at night with vampires on the loose; he even noted on the night of the full moon, that people were walking around without fear of being attacked. He wondered if Remus would be happy there.
He had been thinking about Remus for a few minutes, when he realised he had turned onto a street that he had never explored before. He knew he was close to the river, but other than that, he had no idea where he was.
There was a bar called "Dead Dave's" on the corner. He guessed it was owned by a vampire. It made sense to him, anyway.
The next building front was for a club called "Danse Macabre." He noted the long line of hopeful entrants outside, behind a velvet rope, and guessed that it was a popular club. Yet, he didn't feel like going inside. He didn't want to dance. He only wanted to travel around and get a feel for the city.
Harry didn't know what lured him towards "Guilty Pleasures," but he knew his feet were traveling towards the door before his brain had registered the change in direction.
He got closer and saw posters posted on the windows that said Brandon would be performing that night. A wereleopard, Harry noted after reading a bit more. An attractive wereleopard, Harry thought to himself after studying the picture of the long-haired, lavender eyed dancer.
A discrete wave of his wand and a few mumbled words on his identification card changed his age to the appropriate age for admittance into the club, and he passed the bouncer some money. The bouncer was reluctant to let him in; he stammered an excuse for why he wanted to see the male dancers, which seemed to be acceptable to the tall, bulky male, because he let Harry pass.
He walked through the door, feeling his cheeks heat up as his insides twisted in embarrassment. He had never fully considered his sexuality; Ginny had captured his heart, so he assumed he was completely heterosexual. As he passed the posters of attractive dancers on his way to the main room, he wondered if that was the truth.
The instant he walked inside the main room, he felt warm and very pleasant. He smiled, rubbed his stomach lazily with his hand, and surveyed the scene in front of him.
There were plenty of women in the audience. Harry almost laughed at the way they were behaving---and then, he saw the dancer on the stage.
It was Brandon. He was moving on the stage in a way that Harry had never thought possible. It was as if Brandon's body was liquid; he flowed into elegant movements, to the rhythm of the music, in a way that Harry couldn't fathom.
His hair caught his attention, but it was Brandon's eyes that held onto it. Harry wondered if he acknowledged that startling shade of violet because he, too, had an unusual eyecolour.
No matter the reason, Harry decided silently as he made his way to the bar to order a drink, Brandon's eyes were gorgeous.
"You're a fan of Brandon, are you?" the bartender asked with a leer on his face.
Harry blushed a little and nodded, before ordering a pint of whatever draught was on tap. He threw a couple American bills down onto the counter and took his glass of beer as he made his way to one of the very few vacant tables in the bar.
When the tall, dark haired figure took the stage, Harry wondered if he would be dancing as well. But, then, he cleared his throat and began to speak in a beautiful french accent.
Half of the words Harry couldn't make out, because he spoke to them in French, but he caught the gist of it. The man, named Jean-Claude, was inviting a woman from the audience onto the stage for a more personal performance.
There was a scuffle at the door; Harry turned to see what was going on, and saw nothing but a few men at the door, flanking a small woman, all looking very serious.
Jean-Claude stepped off of the stage once the dance had started, and his presence was replaced by another man. This man was blond, but Harry couldn't get a good look at him because he clung to the shadows.
The dark-haired man walked past Harry on the way to the entrance where the guests were waiting. Harry felt a wave of wave energy rush over him; in that moment, he knew Jean-Claude wasn't human. As he studied the man, he realised that he was a vampire. He started cataloguing Jean-Claude's traits and then noticed how many other vampires were working in the club.
Harry sighed and shifted in his seat. He wasn't enjoying the show anymore. It wasn't the vampires' fault, nor was it the woman's fault as she made girlishly romantic eyes at Brandon. He just felt that it was time to go.
He finished his drink and stood to go. As he made his way towards the exit, he saw a large man, with short dark hair and wide, brooding shoulders, grab another man. There was a flash of long, red hair and a british voice to accompany the movement to the wall.
"Who are you?" The dark man growled. "Why are you here?!"
Harry's eyes widened when he heard Bill Weasley's voice. "I'm here looking for a friend! I'm not... I'm not here to cause problems!"
"Wolf, don't test me---"
"Richard," the woman said in a much calmer voice. "Don't cause a scene."
"Anita, don't tell me how to treat werewolves who walk into my territory. I'm Ulfric, not you."
"I'm not a werewolf!" Bill yelped.
Harry sucked in a deep breath, gripped the wand that was tucked into his jeans pocket, walked towards the group, and said in a loud voice, "He's not a werewolf."
Five pairs of eyes turned to look at him. Harry swallowed hard and walked up to them. "He's not," Harry reasserted. He shot a tiny smile to Bill. "H'lo, Bill."
"Harry... god, we've been worried about you," Bill said back, quietly and quickly.
"I'm fine, but we have to talk about Vold---"
Jean-Claude turned his body towards Harry, very slowly. "Who are you, petit agneau?"
Harry cleared his throat. "I... can we have this conversation someplace more private?"
The vampire nodded. His long dark hair tumbled over his shoulder. "Mais, oui. Follow me. We shall go into my office." He turned and smiled at the woman, Anita. Harry wondered if she was the Anita he was hoping to meet. "I believe you know the way, ma petite."
Richard growled. Jean-Claude ignored the sound and took Anita's hand. The dark haired woman gave him a sideways look, but walked with him. Richard glared at Bill, but released him. Bill fell into step with Harry; Richard walked with the young man beside him.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked Bill, looking up at him with wide, green eyes. "How'd you find me? What---"
Bill smiled back at him, and Harry stopped talking. The scars didn't detract from his appearance; if anything, they added to the cool-rebel image Bill had been cultivating for as long as Harry knew him. Of course, Bill tried to hide them by wearing his long hair down, but anyone who got close enough could see them and have a glimpse of the danger this man had known. At least, Harry thought that the scars made him more cool.
"I'm fine," Bill assured Harry. "A little bruised, but fine."
"How'd you---"
Bill chuckled. "You gave Mum quite a scare, you know that. Taking off in the middle of the night. Merlin, Harry, you've been gone for months. We haven't the slightest idea what you've been up to... and Hedwig's been a real cow since you took off. Ron said she's been better since going back to Hogwarts, but barely."
"How'd you---"
"I'm getting to that," Bill interrupted again. "When you crossed the ocean," he explained as they walked towards a door at the end of a long hall. "You took a large sum of money out of your account."
Harry sighed and nodded. "To pay for the plane ticket."
"Exactly. Anyway... after that, Ron and Hermione guessed you'd go someplace away from the Voldemort mess, someplace to think and figure out your next move. I guessed America. After that, it just took some of Dad's Muggle connections, some quick thinking, and here I am."
"Why you?" The second the question left Harry's mouth, he blushed and started to ramble. "I mean, not that I'm not glad to see you, but---"
"Remus is healing, after the last full moon. Tonks is with him... even if he doesn't want her around," Bill explained. "Mum and Dad can't go because of the Order, Ministry, and Ron and Ginny. The twins are busy with their joke shop. Hermione and Ron are back at school, and they don't think clearly when it comes to you. Charlie is back in Romania, and Fleur is pregnant."
"Whoa. Congrats, Bill."
Bill smiled. "Thanks. Twelve weeks. Our fingers are crossed... everything looks good so far."
"Brilliant."
The red-haired male nodded and put his hand on Harry's shoulder as they walked into the private room. The others fanned out around Harry and Bill; Harry felt his nerves tingling in anticipation. The werewolf known as Richard was very tense; Harry could see his muscles flexing under his shirt. Anita hopped up onto the desk, shooting a smirk in Jean-Claude's direction; the vampire smiled back at her and joined her on the desk's surface.
"Jason," Richard said as calmly as he could manage, to the other man in the room. "Could you go outside and watch the door?"
Harry caught the trace of a pout, before Jason caught it himself and nodded.
Jean-Claude nodded at Jason and offered him a tiny smile. Richard added: "We'll be finished here in plenty of time."
"Fine with me," Jason said, before strutting across the room towards the door.
Harry watched the way he moved---and noted how similar his movements were to Brandon's and Richard's. They were too fluid. He guessed Jason was a wereanimal, too; he decided if he was a wereanimal, he would be a wolf, because of Richard's assertion over him. He didn't understand what place Jean-Claude had in their relationships, but he guessed it was a fairly important place.
Once Jason left the room, Jean-Claude returned his attention to Harry. "Your name, petit agneau?"
"What are you calling me?" Harry asked.
"Little lamb," Anita said with a roll of her eyes. "Jean-Claude---"
"Ma petite... let the man talk."
"I have to get home by three to feed the ardeur, so---"
"You can feed it here," the vampire said simply. "There are plenty of bodies here to feed from... your cat can feed you tomorrow."
Harry shot a worried glance at Bill, who returned the expression with one of his own.
When the vampire looked at Harry again, the young man summoned his courage and spoke. "My name is Harry Potter."
"And what kept you from telling us that outside?" Anita asked.
"There are people who want me dead," Harry said. "Who want Bill dead. Who want a lot of decent people dead. And I'm trying to stop them... so I really can't be dead, if you catch my---"
"Who wants you dead, petit agneau?"
"People in England," Bill said quietly, for Harry, who felt himself shaking slightly. Harry was grateful that his friend had taken over. "We're wizards. We're from the wizarding world in England. There's a dark wizard, trying to kill Harry and everyone else that is against him, and Harry came here to---"
"To give myself some breathing room and to regain my bearings," Harry finished. "I destroyed two more horcruxes, and I was scared that Voldemort would find out---"
"What the fuck?" Richard expelled.
Harry inhaled slowly, and then began telling the whole story. He left very few details out, and by the time he was finished telling the strangers everything but why he needed to speak with Anita Blake, there was a knock on the door.
Jean-Claude walked over and opened it. Jason said softly, "Nathaniel wants to come in. He's cold. And we've got a bouncer for the door."
"Go on," the vampire murmured. "Shall I see you before dawn?"
"I hope so," Jason said with a smile. He cast a look towards Harry and Bill, smiled again, and then stepped away to let Brandon into the room.
Harry blinked, and then realised that Brandon was an alias for Nathaniel.
Anita opened her arms and Nathaniel approached her. "You okay?" she asked quietly.
He nodded and mumbled something about being cold and needing contact. She nodded, and wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back as her legs hooked around him.
Richard snorted in disgust. Harry gathered that he was very uncomfortable with the personal lives of his colleagues. He wondered what their story was.
"How does your friend smell like wolf, but claim not to be one?"
"I was attacked by a werewolf," Bill said quietly. "But, I don't think it was bad enough to make me change."
Nathaniel turned his head away from Anita's shoulder. He studied Bill's skin. "Your scars would have healed," he said softly.
"Yeah," Bill muttered, looking down at his dragon skin boots. "I gathered that much."
"So, why are you here?" Richard asked.
"I'm looking for Harry," Bill said, gesturing towards his friend. "Things are becoming rough back home."
Harry's eyes widened. "What---"
"The Death Eaters are gaining in numbers. McGonagall is having a hard time keeping the school secure and maintaining the Order. Snape is still missing... not that he's an asset to us at the moment, but---"
Harry sighed. "I'm sorry I left."
"Nah, don't worry about it, mate," Bill told him. "We figured you left for a reason. We just want to help, so you can come back and help the Order." A grin graced his face. "Oh, and McGonagall is furious with you for dropping out of school." He chuckled and added: "If you ever go back, I think she's going to load you up with detentions for spite."
Harry grinned. "That sounds like her."
"So..." Anita said softly, carefully. "Why did you come here, Harry?"
"I was in New York, blending in and getting perspective... when I found some articles on necromancy in an academic paper."
Anita's eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you interested in necromancy?"
"Lord Voldemort uses inferi, I mean, zombies, to protect some of his prized possessions... and... well, I also have a theory or two about using zombies against him."
"Ma petite can help you work through your theories," Jean-Claude said smoothly, confirming Harry's suspicion that this woman was the expert he had hoped to run into. When Anita frowned at the vampire, he smiled at her and added, "Their problems might affect our existence here. Europe has vampires and lycanthropes and all sorts of magic, perhaps even more than here."
"I know, but---"
"And if this Voldemort is as powerful as the young man explained, then we will either have to deal with him now or later."
Anita closed her mouth and nodded. "True. Okay. Fine. But... can we get out of here? And Richard, would you stop giving Bill the Ulfric eye?! You're driving us all crazy."
"This is my territory."
"I'm not a wolf," Bill repeated. "I swear it. I don't want to take over any of your territory, nor do I want to be a part of your pack. I just came to help Harry out. We'll be out of your hair soon."
Richard sighed and tried to relax. "I'll grant you safe passage," he growled. "Until I find in any way that you've tried to outmaneuver me---"
Bill extended his hand for a shake. "I won't try anything like that," he promised.
Richard gave in and grudgingly shook his hand. "Fair enough." He looked at Anita. "I'm going back outside."
"Thanks for taking Micah's shift," Anita said quietly. "He's been taking everyone else's and the Furry Coalition won't be any good if he works himself into the ground."
"I don't mind doing my part," Richard admitted. "See you guys later." He turned and walked to the door; when he put his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to the group of people and said, "I want to be kept informed."
Jean-Claude nodded. "Of course," he agreed. "We will meet on this again, I am certain." When Richard had gone, the vampire smiled. "Shall we retire to the Circus?"
"Jason..." Nathaniel said softly, from Anita's shoulder.
"Asher will see that he comes home safely," Jean-Claude assured the young wereleopard. He turned to the wizards. "Monsieur Weaz-lee et petit agneau, please be our guests. We can talk more comfortably in my domain."
Harry looked at Bill, who shrugged. Harry shrugged, too. "Sure. Why not?"
Part Three
Anita was flanked by Nathaniel and another wereleopard named Micah. Harry couldn't stop admiring his catlike eyes. They were intense. Greener than Harry's eyes, and uniquely shaped.
Micah met his gaze. Harry looked away quickly, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment for yet another time that evening.
The wereleopard laughed. "Don't worry, Harry," he said warmly. "I'm used to the attention."
Harry smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry... they're just so cool."
He smiled. "I'm glad you appreciate them."
"He's not the only one," Anita murmured, before patting his stomach. Micah kissed her temple in reply. Then, the woman turned to look at Harry and Bill. "So, what is it that I can help you with?"
Harry coughed nervously. "Okay. So... there are no necromancy laws in England."
Anita frowned. "I don't like the sound of this."
"Please hear me out," Harry insisted.
Jean-Claude nodded. "Continue, petit agneau. Do not be intimidated by ma petite. She is fierce, but---"
"Quiet, you," Anita scolded.
Jean-Claude merely smiled at her before waving Harry on, to continue his plan.
Harry sucked in a deep breath. When he felt Bill's hand on his shoulder, he relaxed and resumed speaking.
"I've researched the laws in the United States," Harry said carefully. "And I know and understand why you don't raise victims of murders. It's dangerous. They just go from point A to point B, with no regard for anything in their path. And I wouldn't will that on anyone."
"But..." Anita said in a similarly careful tone.
"But," Harry echoed, before continuing. "Voldemort and his followers are strong. Sometimes I wonder if they're too strong for the Order. If I can promise to place them in the same area as the burial site for some of his victims... would you raise them? Even if they took out some of the Death Eaters, that would be a help." He saw Anita open her mouth, but he spoke up: "It would not be against the law, because we do not have laws like yours. And, the Ministry of Magic will not cry foul over a few dead Death Eaters. You'd be safe from persecution."
"I have a job... and a life," Anita pointed out. "Here... I can't just disappear for months at a time to help wage a war that isn't even mine---"
"Ma petite..."
She glared at Jean-Claude. "Well, it's true."
Bill nudged Harry. "Who are you thinking about using---" he stopped short. "Your parents? Harry, you can't be seri---"
Harry nodded. "I know they would want to help... if they could," he reasoned quietly. "I mean, they've helped me already..."
"This has nothing to do with you wanting to see your parents again?" Anita asked, eyebrow arched.
He shook his head. "N-no. Not really. I mean, I never got to meet them, so I am curious... but I know they'd just be zombies. Besides, their spirits have visited me and I know what they're like. I need an edge over Voldemort. And they've always looked out for me. I know they wouldn't mind having their bodies used this way."
Anita nodded slowly. "You'll have to give me some time to think about this," she said firmly. "Not years or months. Just some time."
Harry nodded quickly. "Sure. Yeah. No problem. Even if you could just teach me how to fight zombies better---"
"Can you stay in town for a few weeks?" she asked.
He nodded again. "Yeah."
Bill smiled. "You mind me crashing at your flat, Harry?"
Harry smiled back at Bill. "Not one bit."
"Brilliant. I'll have to send word to Mum... is there a Floo network here?"
Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Don't think we want to go through official channels, though," he reasoned. "Especially if Voldemort still has spies in the Ministry."
"True. Good point. Well, the clock should let her know I'm safe here."
Harry nodded. Jean-Claude checked his watch and then said, "Asher and Jason are here early." He looked at Bill and Harry. "Do you require one bedroom or two?"
Harry coughed. Bill actually blushed. "Harry and I aren't... together," he said, fighting a chuckle. "I'm married, and he's... he's my younger brother's friend."
"Is that all?" Jean-Claude asked, a teasing smile on his lips. "He is still a fine specimen of a man."
Harry took his turn to blush, again. "Um... thanks."
"Asher would enjoy you."
When his cheeks burned even more, Harry guessed his face was a colour that would match Gryffindor crimson.
"Why don't you just ask him before his head explodes, Jean-Claude," Micah said with a smirk.
"Does Asher want to bite me?" Harry blurted out.
Jean-Claude smiled. "I'm sure he'd like to sample your blood, if you wouldn't mind offering your neck."
Bill stiffened. "I don't know about..."
Harry put his hand out to stop Bill. He felt much calmer than he knew he should be. "It'll be fine. I mean, we're staying here today, to sleep... so, I don't mind taking one for the team." He looked at Jean-Claude. "Now?"
"Non," Jean-Claude replied. "He's fed for the night. But, when he wakes, he shall require a snack. Jason is my pomme de sang," he explained. "He usually feeds us both. But, I believe that Asher would enjoy sampling you tomorrow night."
Harry nodded and inhaled a ragged breath. "So far... it's alright with me."
"Jason can explain to you what happens when you are bitten by Asher," Jean-Claude said. "If you have any concerns." He paused, waited for Harry to nod, and then said, "So, two beds for our guests?"
Bill and Harry both nodded, and soon found themselves being escorted down a hall. Nathaniel was with them and he pointed out two rooms that were side by side. He told them that Jason was next to Harry, and he and Anita and Micah would be next to Bill, should they need anything.
Harry smiled at the young man. "Thanks, Nathaniel."
"No problem," the auburn-haired wereleopard said with a smile and a casual toss of his long hair. "Sleep well. There should be food in the sitting room when you wake up."
Part Four
Harry screamed at the sight of Cedric's body, at the sight of Voldemort and his band of Death Eaters. He didn't understand why he was back in that graveyard---but there he was, back in that awful place.
He struggled, but he felt as though he were stuck in the mud. Every movement was sluggish and brought pain shooting through his body. Lucius Malfoy was closing in on him, as was Voldemort. His situation did not look good.
"AVADA---"
"Harry? Harry... c'mon, wake up."
Harry blinked blearily as he reached for his glasses; he put them on and saw Bill and Jason hovering over him. The young man touched his wrist, and pointed out that his body temperature was below normal. When Bill looked down at him, Harry dissolved and started mumbling about Cedric, Voldemort and the thick, cold mud that held him down.
"Shhh," Bill whispered. "It's alright. You're not there anymore."
Harry nodded again and then rolled onto his stomach to bury his face in his pillow. "Can I be alone?" he mumbled. "It's just---"
Jason sighed. "Look, Bill, can you go into my fridge and get some food? He's got to eat something."
"What will you be doing?"
"Lycanthropes have a high body temperature," Jason explained. "He's still shivering. I can keep him warm."
"I don't---"
"Body contact isn't always about sex," Jason interupted sharply. "In most cases, with our kind, it's about warmth, healing, and comfort. Go get the food."
Bill backed down and left the room quickly. Jason chuckled quietly. "He's not an alpha wolf, is he?"
"Technically, he's not even a wolf," Harry mumbled.
Jason snorted and got under the covers next to Harry. "I'm going to pull you closer, okay? We've got to warm you up."
"I'm fine."
"Hardly. Those kinds of bad dreams suck your energy dry... you need to recharge," Jason said firmly. "You're not pack, but this is still a good way to recharge your batteries."
"I'm not a little kid, you know---"
"I know. I'm not coddling you. I'm just saying..."
Harry sighed and followed Jason's guidance. He found himself on his side, his back pressed against the other man's chest. He relaxed a bit when his teeth stopped chattering. Jason was right; he was warming up.
"Better?" Jason asked.
"Um... a little."
"Want to talk about the dream?"
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. He heard the door open and close, and guessed Bill had returned. Hearing Bill say that he found some fruit and bottled water confirmed his suspicion.
"Want to try to eat something?"
"You're not going to let up until I do," Harry pointed out, craning his neck to look at Jason. "So, I might as well get it over with."
"Good."
Harry heard the smile in Jason's voice. He wanted to punch him; then, he curbed that impulse and eased himself into a sitting position. Bill was unpeeling a banana; when he saw that Harry was ready, he passed half of the banana over.
"We'll stay until you fall asleep," Bill said quietly. He frowned. "Ron never mentioned anything about---" he stopped short. "He doesn't know, does he?"
Harry swallowed a bite of the fruit and then shook his head. He mumbled, "No, I cast silencing charms every night before bed."
"Harry... you shouldn't have had to carry this around with you."
Harry sighed. "It only started getting worse after Dumbledore was killed," he admitted. "I... I didn't want to burden anyone... and I was so tired that I forgot to cast a charm this morning---"
"Alright," Bill murmured. "Maybe you should bunk with me, that way I can wake you up if you start thrashing about."
Harry frowned and shook his head. Bill was about to protest, but a warm, sweet energy seeped over the room. Jason groaned and closed his eyes; Harry startled and looked to Bill for guidance, finding none.
"The ardeur," Jason whispered. "It's out of control today... she's fasted for too long. Again."
Bill leaned back against the footboard. "What is it?"
"Anita inherited one of Jean-Claude's more enjoyable powers," Jason explained. "The ardeur is one of the ways he feeds---off of sexual energy, instead of blood. When he and Anita married the marks between them... she inherited the power. She uses that strength to enhance her zombie powers."
"So, she has a lot of sex?" Bill asked, sounding skeptical.
"Nah... sometimes she just needs to touch someone's skin... when she forgets to take care of it, it can be a little overwhelming."
Harry looked at Jason. "Is she alright?"
"Oh, yeah. She's probably enjoying herself," Jason said on a chuckle. He looked back at Harry. "You feeling better?"
Harry frowned. "A little."
"Want us to stay until you fall asleep?" Bill asked.
"I sound like a first year," Harry muttered.
"Nah... it's alright," Bill assured him. "Lie back. Go to sleep."
Jason smiled. "Tonight, you're going to be a snack," he reminded Harry. "You need your rest."
"Was it stupid to offer?"
"God, no. And if Asher rolls your mind, you won't regret it one little bit," Jason said with a wide grin. Harry blushed; Jason laughed. "It's like sex... without sex... which makes it even better."
Harry blushed. He never had sex before; he knew that Ginny had because they talked about it a few times. She said it felt okay; however, the way Jason talked about sex made it seem much better than Ginny's experiences has told her it was.
"So... I'll be Asher's snack?"
Jason nodded. "Probably. Don't worry... you'll enjoy it." He smiled. "Go to sleep, Harry. Sunset will come sooner than you expect."
"If he still has questions---"
Harry smiled at Bill. "No, it's alright. Really," he said, before stiffling a big yawn. "I can ask more questions later. But, right now, I think I'd be better off if I tried to sleep."
Bill smiled and nodded. "Alright. If you're sure."
"You'll stay? Just in case?"
He nodded again. "You bet. Go to sleep, Harry."
Harry set his glasses down on the bedside table and flopped down onto his stomach. He heard and felt Jason stretch out beside him; the heat radiating from his body was relaxing and comforting.
In the distance, he could feel the energy coming from down the hall, but he didn't pay much attention to it. Jason and Bill were talking softly, about werewolf laws, about the differences between England and the United States, about the world that Bill and Harry left behind.
Their quiet mumbling lulled him into drowsiness. Before he knew it, he was dreaming of being on his Firebolt and chasing after the snitch on a beautiful sunny day.
Part Five
Bill had spent twenty minutes trying to convince Harry that he should not be donating his blood; however, Harry had decided that it was a good idea and nothing Bill could say would convince him otherwise.
Jean-Claude, Harry noted, seemed to work within a political structure. It was fairly logical---he realised after talking with Anita and Jason---and he respected the order they all adhered to.
He was in their territory and he was asking for their help. He wanted to offer them something in exchange. Jason assured him he would not be hurt after offering his neck to Jean-Claude and Asher, so his blood seemed like the best token to willingly give to them.
Staring at himself in the mirror, dressed in the silk robe and pants that Jean-Claude had given him, he wondered on how many levels this would change his life.
He sucked in a deep breath and watched the pants inch lower on his waist. He blushed a little as his hipbones were exposed. He looked like a well-dressed snack. He hoped the vampires liked it; he was embarrased because he had never been put on display before, nor had he ever been feasted upon.
"Only I could get myself into these situations," he muttered under his breath, before a nervous chuckle escaped his lips.
A knock at the door broke him from his thoughts.
"Come in," he called out softly.
Jason poked his head in. "How're you holding up?"
"I'm fine," Harry said, before smiling at the werewolf.
"You sure?" Jason asked. "You smell scared."
"I smell scared?" Harry echoed.
Jason nodded as he came into the room and closed the door behind him. He was wearing shorts and a very tight t-shirt. His muscles rippled underneath the fabric; Harry gained an idea of how strong he was, even if Jason didn't make a point of projecting his strength. "Yeah... so, are you?"
"Nervous, more than scared," Harry admitted. "I've never been someone's snack before."
"It'll be okay," Jason assured him. "I'm their snack every day. And I look alright, don't I? No signs of abuse or neglect... I'm healthy, happy..."
Harry smiled and nodded. "Yeah..."
"C'mon. They're both awake and they're asking for us."
"Us?" Harry asked.
Jason nodded again. "Yep. You're not going to feed them both... I'll be there with you the whole time."
Harry smiled. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders; knowing he wasn't going to be alone was a huge relief.
Jason smiled back at him and guided him through the door and down the hall to the vampires' chambers. Harry felt his heart pound against his ribcage with each step he took down the hall; when they reached the door, Jason put a hand on Harry's shoulder. The dark-haired wizard nodded and smiled. Jason smiled again and knocked on the door.
"Entrez," Jean-Claude called out.
Jason opened the door and let Harry walk in first. The sight of the two male vampires lounging together in bed made Harry's heart pound harder, faster.
The other vampire---Harry guessed he was Asher---was the vampire from the club. He was the one who had been watching Nathaniel in the shadows, on the stage. His blonde hair flowed over the right side of his body. The only skin exposed to Harry's eyes was the left side of his face. His blue eyes pierced Harry's, looking deep into his soul.
Jean-Claude had been murmuring quietly in Asher's ear, but when the two men walked into the room, he turned and looked at them. Another set of blue eyes was evaluating Harry.
He swallowed hard and smiled nervously. "H-hi," he managed to say quietly. "I..." he took a deep breath, relaxed himself, and then smiled more warmly as he looked at Asher. "Hi. I'm Harry Potter."
"Asher," the vampire said in a french accent that resembled Jean-Claude's accent. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
"I don't know about that..."
Asher smiled slightly. "It is a pleasure when I receive willing victims," he explained. "A pleasure you will share with me, petit agneau."
Harry smiled at the sound of Jean-Claude's nickname on Asher's lips. "Yeah, yeah... I'm a lost little lamb."
"Lost, mais non," Jean-Claude replied. "You have been searching for answers, for strength. You have found it, as long as ma petite decides to assist you. And you are offering yourself in return, still?"
Harry nodded. "Yes. Of course. I don't break promises---I want to do it."
Jean-Claude smiled. "Bien. Très bien." He sat up and beckoned to Jason, who came to the vampire without a thought; Harry wavered, unsure of his position in that room. "Come here," the dark-haired vampire demanded gently. "It is time to begin."
Harry swallowed, licked his lips, and made his feet move. Asher sat up carefully; his curtain of blond hair not swinging back to expose his face. Harry marvelled at how he moved: so careful and precise, and yet so smoothly and elegantly.
"Il est fort," Asher commented quietly to Jean-Claude.
"Oui," Jean-Claude replied.
Harry looked at both of the vampires. "Um... should I take the dressing gown off or---"
"Sit and relax first," Asher advised.
Jean-Claude smiled. "Oui," he agreed. "There is no point in rushing straight through to the main course."
Harry's face heated up. "Oh. Well... alright, then," he said, before sitting down on the bed, next to Asher. Harry glanced at the blonde vampire. "So... you're a vampire."
Jason snorted and then started to laugh. Jean-Claude smiled. Even Asher looked amused. Harry looked away, focusing on the rug in the middle of the room.
"Oui," Asher agreed quietly. "You have not seen many?"
Harry shook his head. "One... before. At a Christmas party. One of my professors invited him and his... companion. He wasn't as impressive as either of you." He looked at Asher and smiled a bit. "Vampires aren't really common, as far as I know, in Wizarding England."
"What do you mean?" Jason asked. "I mean... being a wizard. What does that mean?"
Harry smiled and produced his wand from the pocket of the robe. "Lumos," he murmured, and the tip of his wand lit up. "This is just a parlor trick... but..." he trailed off and then said, "Nox." The wand extinguished itself, and then Harry looked around the room. He saw a book on the bedside table near Jean-Claude, on the opposite side of the large mattress, and he pointed his wand at it. "Wingardium Leviosa."
"Whoa," Jason mumbled as he watched the book float across the room. "I've seen people do some crazy things... but... that's cool. I mean... it's floating."
"There are tons of spells... I just don't know what to perform under pressure," Harry said with a sheepish grin. "But, being a wizard or witch means you can do stuff with a wand."
"It's always with a wand?" Jason asked.
"There's wandless magic," Harry admitted. "But, I'm not focused enough for it. My mind's always all over the place. One of my former professors just thinks I'm stupid. But, I just think a lot, about a lot of different things."
Asher brushed a finger over the back of Harry's neck; he shivered in reaction, but didn't flinch or frown.
"You'll learn how to centralise your focus," Asher said quietly. "It is a skill that comes with age."
Harry sighed. "I need that skill now. There's too much riding on my shoulders---"
"Not right now," Asher interupted. "Now, you are here. You are not fighting dark magic tonight."
He nodded. Asher was right. In that moment, he was a meal or a political peace offering, however he chose to look at it.
"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "You're right."
"Do you mind if we begin?" Jean-Claude asked. "Now that you are more comfortable?"
Harry stopped and thought about the question before he answered it. Jean-Claude hadn't promised anything but the meal; yet, he had postponed it. Harry realised that it had been done that way in order to put him at ease. He smiled and nodded; he felt ready for what would happen that evening.
Part Six
Harry groaned loudly as Asher's power rolled over him, as his teeth sunk into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He felt hot and cold, tense and relaxed---all at the same time. Nothing he had ever done with Ginny remotely came close to the pleasure he was experiencing in that moment.
He felt Jason in front of him, stroking his arms; that gesture was meant for comfort, but all it did was stoke the fire Asher had ignited. Something tightened inside his stomach, like a knot, and Harry felt it connected to the bite, being pulled upwards, tightening with each breath he took.
"Oh god," he croaked, trying to open his eyes.
His eyelids fluttered briefly, allowing him to meet Jason's gaze. His hands had stopped travelling over Harry's arms; before Harry had to close his eyes again, he saw Jean-Claude sinking his fangs into Jason's neck and the reaction that pulled from the werewolf.
Asher must have started sucking harder, because as his arm tightened around Harry's body the tension increased in his stomach.
After that, he wasn't aware of himself and the situation he was in, until what he guessed was minutes later. He was panting heavily and his body felt as though it had melted into Asher. He was cradled close; Asher was licking the wound he had made.
"How are you, petit agneau?"
"F-fine," Harry whispered shakily.
He moved his body a little and felt something cold, wet, and damp against his thigh. He groaned and tucked his face into his arms.
"Nothing to be ashamed of," Asher said from behind him.
Jason, who was recovering from Jean-Claude's bite, smiled lazily and said, "Definitely not. You enjoyed it."
Harry closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. He had no idea why he reacted the way he did; but, it had felt good.
"So... just enjoy the afterglow," Jason murmured.
Jean-Claude ruffled Jason's short hair. "You two may relax here," he said softly. "And then, I think you should let your friend know you are alright," he said while looking at Harry. "He was very concerned about you."
Harry sighed. "He doesn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some things aren't such a big deal anymore," he explained. "I've had too much to deal with. I don't think I've ever been just me... this was a decision I could make for myself. I wanted to do this." Harry sighed. "He's always been able to choose his own path. He doesn't understand... no one does."
"Perhaps those in your life are too close to the issue at hand," Asher said in response. He combed his fingers through Harry's unruly, long hair.
Harry sighed under Asher's hand and shrugged. "Dunno," he mumbled. "I think I'm too close to the issue at hand."
Jean-Claude smiled. "Things will become clear soon enough. For now, petit agneau, you should relax and enjoy the after effects of Asher's bite."
Harry smiled a little. "Alright."
"We shall be around later," he said, to both Jason and Harry. "Anita should be back in the morning."
Jason nodded. "Okay. Sounds good. See you guys later," he murmured, in a happily sleepy voice.
"Sleep well, mon pomme de sang," Jean-Claude called out as he eased himself off of the bed.
Asher kissed Harry's bare shoulder and then followed Jean-Claude off of the bed and across the room.
"Veux-tu prendre un bain?"
Harry didn't understand Jean-Claude's question, nor did he follow Asher's response. He was too sleepy to try to make sense of it. He heard them walk into the bathroom, and then darkness enveloped him.
Part Seven
"I already got two of the last horcruxes," Harry explained to Bill, in one of the sitting rooms of the Circus of the Damned, hours after he had offered his blood to Asher.
He and Jason had slept for a few hours, drowning in the luxurious afterglow; then, they cleaned up, ate, and resumed their evening's schedule. Jason went to see what his pack was up to; Harry went after Bill, to explain some of the things he had yet to touch upon since they met up.
"Which ones? Where were they?"
Harry smiled a little. "They were in the orphanage were Tom Riddle grew up. Tucked away, under a couple of floorboards... in different rooms." The smile disappeared as he added, "I have no clue if the locket's gone. Someone will need to check Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. And, I still need to find the last one. I think... if Dumbledore was correct, it's a Gryffindor artifact."
"Where would it have been hidden?" Bill inquired. "At the orphanage?"
Harry shrugged. "Dunno... I mean... I have a hunch it's somewhere inside Hogwarts. But I don't know why I think that."
"Well, let's go over what you know. Dumbledore gave you a crash course of sorts in Voldemort's train of thought, yeah? So, let's talk it out."
Harry smiled and nodded, before launching into the stories of his time with Dumbledore. He went over the tales of Tom Riddle's childhood, the special places he had valued, and the attraction he had to objects from the four founders of Hogwarts.
By the time Jean-Claude had returned to the Circus, flanked by Jason, Bill had processed most of the information and was making some observations.
"Look, if it's in the castle, you've got to figure out two important things: what is it, and how did he put it in there?" Bill said, after casting a smile towards the vampire and werewolf. "There aren't too many surviving items of Gryffindor around, so I don't know what he would have taken."
"The sword was always in Dumbledore's possession," Harry said quietly, avoiding Jason's eyes but meeting Jean-Claude's. "I don't know what else of his exists... I suppose I could try doing some research on him, to see what else might have survived."
"We should owl Ron and Hermione," Bill said next. "Get them to look around---"
"No," Harry said firmly. "There are too many risks involved. And Ron isn't exactly the most stealthy person in that school."
"What are you going to do, then?" Bill inquired, looking amused. "Sneak in at night under your invisibility cloak?"
"Maybe," Harry admitted. "If I could get my hands on a few books... there's got to be a wizarding community around someplace... then, I could start thinking on what it could be. He hides his objects in well protected places---"
"Under floorboards?"
"They were magically nailed in place, and there were some tricky obstacles in the crawl space," Harry corrected him. "Took me a good three hours to figure out how to get the artifacts out of there."
Jason cleared his throat. "What kind of obstacles?"
"Poisonous potions, some cursed mummy hands with very firm grips," Harry replied, casting the werewolf a quick glance before looking back at his wand as he twirled it between his fingers. "There were a few other things... it was a mess."
"That's how you got the scar on your stomach?" Jason asked.
Harry blushed. "Um... yeah. One of the hands was a little too fast for me," he mumbled.
Jean-Claude arched an eyebrow. "This wizard is very dangerous... with no regard for others."
"Exactly," Harry agreed. "He's killed people just so he could divide his soul into seven parts, so he could be harder to kill permanently. And now, he just wants to take over the whole sodding world." He paused and then added, "Oh, and he wants to kill me while he's at it."
"There's a university nearby," Jason piped up. "With a pretty diverse art history department... maybe they'd have some information on your artifacts."
Jean-Claude shrugged. "He has a point, petit agneau. St. Louis has always been a magnet for the unusual."
Bill shrugged. "Sure... that sounds good."
Jason smiled. "Cool. Oh, and Bill, Richard said he'd talk with you... he's going to come here when he's finished with pack business."
Harry blinked and turned to look at Bill. He smiled at Harry. "I just wanted to ask him about the way packs here function. And... I also wanted to see why I smell like a wolf, if I'm not one."
"Do you want me to stay?" Harry asked quietly, eyes widening as he thought of the huge man that had pinned Bill to the wall. "I can, if you want---"
"It will be fine," Jean-Claude assured Harry. "I will be here. My animal to call is the wolf."
Harry nodded jerkily, not really understanding. "Alright. If everyone's certain."
"Quite."
Harry smiled a little in Bill's direction. "Fleur'd murder me if I brought you back to England, shredded to bits."
Bill laughed. "Very true."
Jason smiled. "So, will we go, Harry?"
Harry blinked and then brought his eyes across the room to look at the werewolf. "Uh... sure. Yeah. Can we stop by my flat first? I just want to tuck my mail inside."
The other man smiled and nodded. "Sure. Let's go."
Harry nodded, too, and followed Jason out of the sitting room. He was worried about Bill's meeting with Richard, but he was more worried about being alone with Jason, at that particular moment.
They had fallen asleep with at least three feet of free mattress between them; however, they woke up with Harry on top of Jason. He had buried his face in Jason's neck, and Jason's arm was wrapped around Harry's body. Found in uncharted waters, Harry had panicked. He had all but vaulted off of Jason's body, before dressing in a panic and heading to his own bathroom to shower.
He hadn't seen Jason since that moment. He didn't know what he should say. Was there an appropriate thing to say during moments like that? Harry hadn't had a clue. He had a hard enough time dealing with the opposite sex; dealing with uncomfortable situations with men was completely unfamiliar.
An hour later, after going to Harry's bachelor apartment and tucking his mail inside the front door, they were sitting in the stacks of the library, thumbing through a stack of books on British art and artifacts. Harry guessed they had exchanged thirty words, tops, during their entire time spent together.
Jason must have picked up on it, too, because he nudged Harry and said, "Are we ever going to talk about what happened?"
"About what?" Harry asked, not looking up from the book he was flipping through.
Jason put his hand out, pinning Harry's and preventing him from turning another page. "About tonight."
"What's there to talk about?" Harry asked.
"Um... I dunno... how about the way you bolted out of bed?" Jason asked quietly, although Harry could pick up on the seriousness in his tone of voice. "You were really uncomfortable."
Harry shrugged. "I... I don't usually sleep with other people," he said. "That's all. I mean, I don't fancy men and you don't, as far as I can tell, so I apologise if I made you uncomfortable, but it was really just---"
"Slow down, Harry," Jason advised. "It didn't bother me."
"You fancy---"
Jason smiled and shrugged. "Lycans like being close. It's comforting... it's not always about sex, remember?"
Harry flushed and nodded. "Right. Yeah."
"As for whether or not I 'fancy' men---" he stopped short and laughed softly. "That's actually fun to say. I don't think I've ever used the word fancy like that before." He shook his head, laughed again, and then continued talking. "I don't know. I always considered myself completely... I don't know. I think it just depends on the person I'm with... I guess I'm more of a romantic than I seem to be."
"Oh."
Jason was almost too honest for Harry's liking. He didn't know what to do with that information.
"So look, I just... since you're probably going to be here for a while, I just wanted to clear the air," Jason continued. "Waking up like that didn't bother me."
Harry nodded. "Right. Well, if you're sure..."
"I am," Jason said as he released Harry's wrist and picked another book up off of the pile.
Part Eight
"Harry? C'mon... gotta get up."
"Nguh."
"Now, Harry," Jason said more firmly.
Harry opened his blurry eyes as he fumbled for his glasses. When he could see in the dimly-lit room, he saw Jason smiling down at him from his side of the bed.
"We just got back from the library," Harry groaned in protest. "What on earth---"
"Anita needs a few guards for her raising tonight," Jason explained, handing Harry a shirt from the floor. Harry didn't look at it---their clothes had been mingling on the floor for a couple of weeks, and they shared almost everything---and shrugged it on. "You, me, and Micah."
"Where's Bill?"
"Lessons with Richard," Jason answered.
Harry groaned and pushed himself into a better sitting position. "Pants. Need pants."
"And a toothbrush," Jason teased, picking Harry up out of the bed they had started to share, only to toss him towards the bathroom. Harry laughed sleepily and stumbled into the bathroom wearing his t-shirt and boxers.
As Harry washed up, he heard Jason moving around the room. He smiled at those familiar sounds; he had to admit that since he accepted Jean-Claude's invitation to move into the Circus, he had been happier than he had in a long while.
Since Anita was helping Harry understand necromancy, since Harry was offering his blood to Asher, and since he and Jason were searching the art history stacks of the local libraries, he was spending a lot of time at the Circus of the Damned.
When Jean-Claude told Harry he could stay there as often as he liked---since it was more convenient for both Harry and the vampires. Harry accepted; Bill, who did not feel as comfortable there, took Harry's apartment, subletting the apartment from the Boy Who Lived until the redhead wanted to go back to England.
After a few bad nightmares in his own room, Jason moved Harry into his room; Harry had protested at first, afraid of what it would mean, but it became entirely too comfortable to share a bed with another warm body. Jason didn't judge him when he woke up screaming or crying---he just helped him calm down and then helped him fall back to sleep.
This was the first time that Harry had ever been considered to help the close-knit group of vampires and lycans that supported Anita. He felt like he was becoming a part of this group, as though he had a place in which he really belonged.
He felt relieved. He didn't think they wanted him around because he destroyed a famous wizard when he was a baby. He felt that he had made an impression somehow with them and that they had grown to trust him.
Harry finished brushing his teeth and then he wiped his mouth on his towel; after he came out into the main room, he saw Jason running a hand through his bed-ridden hair.
He smiled. "You're gonna need something a little stronger than a hand to tame that hair."
Jason laughed. "Like you should talk," he shot back.
Harry grinned and found a pair of ripped jeans on the floor. He saw the studded belt threaded through the hoops, which told him the pants belonged to Jason.
"Mind if I wear these?"
Jason shot him a 'why are you asking?' look and then found a mesh top in the closet that he wanted to wear.
"Ready?" Jason asked as Harry got the belt fastened.
The dark-haired wizard nodded and reached for his wand and then attached it to his arm with a device of leather straps he had fashioned a couple of weeks ago. Then, he grabbed his jacket and put it on, effectively hiding the wand.
"Now I'm set," Harry told him, smiling a little. "Where are we going?"
"I don't know," Jason replied. "Micah's picking us up."
"Oh, alright," Harry said as he followed Jason to the door.
They only had to wait five minutes for Micah to pull into the parking lot. Harry got in the backseat, and Jason took the front; Micah greeted them both and then turned his attention back on driving.
Harry leaned back in the seat and listened as Micah talked about the raising. He said Anita had been worried about it from the start; but the client hadn't raised any of Animators, Inc.'s warning flags, so she decided she was just always on edge and asked for some protection while she was raising the zombie.
"Who's the client?" Jason asked as Micah stopped at an intersection.
"Anita said he's some stuffy, upper-crust business man. Sampsun Vanier... maybe Vanière... I don't know," the wereleopard said as he waited for the lights to change in his favour. "He just said he had some questions for the zombie he wanted raised. Pretty vague... but he passed the required tests."
Harry sighed and closed his eyes as he and Jason continued to discuss the client. He wished he was back in bed; it was warm and nightmare-free that night. However, he had yet to see a zombie raising, and he wanted to help Anita in any way he could. He hoped that she might return the favour someday.
They stopped at the graveyard, and Harry reluctantly opened his eyes. He saw Anita waiting by her jeep; in the distance, he saw a dark figure waiting impatiently. He tilted his head and studied the man. He saw the man's posture, the way his hair fell over his shoulders as he walked, and even the stride he took---and found it all very troubling. Suddenly, he was transported back to Hogwarts, back to Potions Class---and he knew who Anita's client was.
"Uh... Micah... I don't know who Sampsun Vanière is... but... that's definitely not him."
Micah turned his green eyes upon Harry. "What do you mean?"
"That's... oh, god," Harry trailed off and groaned. He inched lower in the backseat. "Can you guys just pretend---"
"Tell me what's going on," Micah demanded, his voice dropping into a low growl. "Now."
"That's... my former professor. The one... the former Death Eater. The trait---" Harry broke off when he felt his voice tremble. He didn't know if it trembled out of anger, fear, or grief. He sucked in a deep breath and continued on. "He killed Professor Dumbledore... he ran... he worked for the Order, but he... he... oh, god."
Jason opened his mouth, but Harry resumed speaking. "I don't know if Voldemort sent him, or if he's here on his own---"
Jason interupted him. "Do you want to stay in the car?"
Harry shook his head and pulled out his wand. "No... I want to see what he's up to. But... I have to..." he trailed off and tapped his wand to his head before muttering a disillusionment charm. "Micah, I'm going to---"
"Whoa," Jason breathed at the same time Harry tried to get Micah's attention. "How'd you---"
"Magic. I just wish I thought to bring my Invisibility Cloak with me to this meeting. Would be easier to stay unnoticed---"
"You want to slide over the seat and sneak out with me?" Micah asked.
Harry smiled, even though he was sure neither lycan could see it. "Yeah. Please. He'd notice if I opened and closed the back door."
"Right. You have to let us know if we're getting into trouble, though," Micah told him. When Harry assured the wereleopard that he would, Micah turned to Jason. "You get out and stand in front of the door, okay?"
The younger man nodded. "Sure thing." He looked in Harry's direction when he unbuckled his seatbelt. "You okay?"
"I... I don't know," Harry admitted. "I hadn't planned on seeing Snape until... well, not for a long while. This is a bit of a shock."
"You don't have to go out there."
"I do, Jason."
He sighed. "Okay. Look, just... don't overdo it, y'know? If you have a meltdown in the middle of the graveyard, I don't know if we'll be able to find you as easily now that you're kind of invisible."
"I'll try to hold any potential meltdown in until we get back to the Circus," Harry promised in a dry voice.
"Harry..."
"It'll be fine," Harry said as he turned and glared at Severus Snape, who was talking with Anita in the distance at that point. "Go on. Anita won't want to wait much longer."
"Yeah," Jason agreed, before getting out of the car. Harry awkwardly clamboured over the seat as Micah stepped out. He caught the look Micah gave Anita---a brief look of warning, followed by a warm smile that showed the world how he felt about her---and then he slithered onto the grass in time for the wereleopard to shut the door.
Part Nine
Harry had been kneeling behind the gravestone, struggling not to attack Snape in an act of revenge. That changed when he heard Severus ask the zombie about a horcrux.
Eyes wide, mind racing to figure out how on earth Severus knew to ask that zombie about a horcrux, he broke the concealment charm and rushed out. Wand drawn, green eyes blazing, mouth spouting obcenitites, he marched towards Severus Snape.
The surprise in Snape's eyes flared for a moment, before he was able to supress it.
"Potter... have you been wasting your time hunting for an old, washed out traitor?" he asked, although he couldn't keep the snarl out of his voice.
"Don't flatter yourself," Harry spat out, glaring at his former professor. "You're not getting that horcrux. I will not let you give it over to---"
"There's the Potter I remember," Snape sneered, as he slipped a hand into his coat. Harry guessed he was reaching for his wand. He didn't take his eyes off of Snape; the others in the cemetary didn't matter to him in that moment. He needed to keep his focus on the wizard in front of him. "Jumping to conclusions... never putting all of the evidence together..."
"Shut up!" Harry hollered. "Shut up! You are a traitor and a murderer and---"
"Honestly, Potter. Do you kiss your beloved Granger with that mouth?" Snape asked.
Harry trembled at the mention of Hermione. He had never been interested in her in that way; but the mere mention of her name brought numerous, well-hidden feelings to the surface. Feelings he hadn't dealt with since leaving England.
"Don't talk about her," Harry growled.
"Have I tread upon a nerve?" Snape inquired, smirking. "I would have thought you did not care much for her or her boy toy, since you left them without a second thought."
Harry opened his mouth to refute Snape's statement. But, before the words could leave his mouth, he had a second thought. "Don't talk about things you don't understand," he snapped back. "You wouldn't want to sound like me."
"Touché."
"Excuse me," Anita stepped in. "If you two are finished..."
"Put it back into the ground," Harry said firmly, not taking his eyes off of Snape.
"Potter, don't you want to find the horcrux?"
"Where's Draco?" Harry asked. "Waiting in the distance to take me out when you get the information you need?"
"Hardly," Snape scoffed. "I left him shortly after we fled Hogwarts." He sighed and shifted his weight impatiently. "Besides, I did not plan on finding you here. Would you allow me to finish questioning the zombie, Potter. Then, we can finish this lovely conversation."
"Give me your wand."
Snape's eyebrows jumped up; Harry guessed the emotion he saw on his former professor's face was surprise. Even he was a little surprised with the bold demand.
"Now, Snape. Give. Me. Your. Wand."
Snape's nod was jerky. He slipped his wand out of hiding and handed it to Harry, handle first. Harry took it and held it in his free hand. "Go on, finish the questioning. Then, I will go after the horcrux. If it can be found."
"Willing to go back to your home country?" Snape inquired as he stepped towards the zombie again.
Harry didn't bother replying. Instead, he waited for Snape to finish questioning the zombie. The final horcrux was taken to North America, stored in a museum the last time the deceased had seen it; it was masqueraded as a valuable piece of art. Any remaining possessions of the founding wizards of Hogwarts would be considered valuable to Muggles as well, since they were old and beautiful.
When Anita had put the zombie back into the grave, she turned to Harry. He smiled faintly. "That was wicked."
"Someday, I'll take you with me so you can see the whole thing," she promised. "We should start working on your theory soon, you know."
He nodded. "Y-yeah," he replied, avoiding the the look he knew Snape would be sending his way. "Sounds good." He swallowed hard and looked at her again. "Hey, can you guys give us a minute. Snape and I need to have a chat."
"Oh, joy," Snape deadpanned.
"Stuff it," Harry snapped back.
Jason stepped towards Harry. "I want to stay," he said, in a low, serious voice that Harry rarely heard the werewolf use.
After a moment, Harry realised that having a wereanimal with him would be useful. They could smell the truth---it would almost be like having Veritaserum with him.
"Sure," Harry agreed.
Micah took Anita's arm. "C'mon," he said quietly. "Let's go wait by the car."
Anita nodded, cast one last look at her client, Harry, and Jason, and then she followed Micah out of the graveyard.
Harry looked at Snape. "Why do you want the horcrux?" he asked flatly, without preamble.
"Direct and to the point," Snape remarked. "Very nice, Mr. Potter."
"Answer the question."
Snape lifted his chin higher. "To do my final bidding for the Order, before the war is to end," he said.
Harry turned and glanced at Jason. "I smell fear. No lies," the werewolf said.
When Harry looked at Snape again, the older wizard snorted. "I'm not afraid of you, Potter. That would be impossible."
"Are you still a loyal Death Eater?" he asked, choosing not to respond to Snape's last statement. He had to know the answer to that question, before any others. He had so many questions gnawing at his insides.
"I haven't been a true, loyal Death Eater since the death of your parents. If you ever heeded the headmaster's warnings, you would know this---"
Harry looked at Jason again. The werewolf nodded. Harry looked back at Snape and felt his eyebrows lifting in surprise---as well as in another emotion he could not identify.
"You want to destroy the horcrux?"
"Yes."
Harry saw Jason nod out of the corner of his eye. He sucked in a sharp breath and prepared to ask another question. As the words formed in his mind, he felt his lower lip tremble a little.
"W-why... why did you... k-kill him?" he asked, his voice weaker than before.
"I'll need a pensieve to tell you that answer," Snape said quietly, his chin dropping.
"Why?"
"Because you will not believe me otherwise," Snape said.
Harry shivered and then nodded. Snape was right; he would need to see the truth in order to believe it, in this case Jason took a step towards him. "Harry, do you want to do this inside the Circus? We'd all be more comfortable."
"I don't want him to be comfortable. We'll finish this out here."
Part Ten
The instant Asher swept down upon them, Harry knew. He felt the air around him change. Jason must have sensed the change, too, because he stepped back and turned his head. Harry followed his lead and looked in the same direction.
Asher strode towards them. "Jean-Claude requires your presence, Jason," he said in a low voice. "And I require yours, petit agneau."
Harry blushed a little and nodded. "Yeah. Alright. But... I can't leave---"
"Your acquaitance has been invited to the Circus," Asher continued. "Anita has returned to her leopards, and Micah has offered to drive us back."
"I want someone watching Snape while we're occupied."
The side of Asher's mouth that Harry could see tilted upwards. "Occupied, yes. Now... shall we proceed to the car?"
Harry stepped towards Asher inexplicably, but then he turned to Snape. He walked to the other wizard, took his arm and dragged him in the direction of the car.
"Werewolves, wereleopards, and vampires... oh my," Snape drawled. "You have been a busy boy, Potter."
"Oh, would you stop going on about things you know nothing about?"
Snape chuckled until Harry poked his wand into the thin, tall man's ribs. Harry was grateful for the silence.
"Are Richard and---"
"The wolves are still out."
Harry nodded at Asher's response, and followed them up to the car where Micah was waiting.
"Are we ready to go back?" Micah asked calmly. Harry had to appreciate the wereleopard's inner strength; he had never seen the man lose his cool over anything before. Small crises would pop up, and he just rolled with the punches, dealing with events as they occured. Nothing seemed to faze him. Harry was impressed.
Asher nodded. "Oui."
"Good."
Jason looked at Harry as he opened one of the doors to the backseat. "What is that thing you guys need?"
"A pensieve," Harry said, casting a look at Snape. "It's a big... dish, I guess. It holds memories." Jason slid into the far seat. Harry nudged Snape. "Get in."
Wordlessly, Snape slid into the middle seat. Harry sat next to him, after checking to make sure Snape's wand was secure in his arm band, under his jacket.
Asher and Micah followed suit, and soon they were driving towards the Circus. Upon arrival, Harry put Snape in one of the sitting rooms, and Micah offered to sit with him until Harry could come back---while other wereleopards guarded the room's door.
After thanking Micah, Harry followed Jason and Asher towards Jean-Claude's bedroom. He had seen Snape's questioning look, but he ignored it as best as he could; he was not the one that owed explanations.
"Ah, petit agneau," Jean-Claude said as Harry stepped into the bedroom. "You have had an interesting night, I understand."
Harry nodded. "You could say that," he said on a long exhalation.
Jean-Claude smiled a little. "Are you alright?"
"I... I will be, I guess."
"He is the one who killed your beloved professor, oui?"
Harry nodded again. Jean-Claude pressed his lips together and then reached out for Jason, who came to the bed willingly.
As Jason stretched out alongside the vampire, Asher helped Harry out of his jacket. Harry took his shirt and wand guard off, and then turned to face his blond vampire.
"You ready?" Harry asked, smiling a little.
"Perhaps we should discuss this matter further," he said, casting a look at Jean-Claude. "So you can enjoy this more."
Harry shook his head. "Don't wanna talk about it."
"Are you... positif?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah... I just want to forget about it all for a few minutes."
Asher smiled. "Only a few minutes?"
Harry blushed. "Well... yeah."
Asher turned him and pointed him towards the bed. Harry yelped when he felt the vampire smack his backside gently, playfully; Asher chuckled and followed him to the mattress.
Part Eleven
Drained and sated, Harry made his feet work as he ambled down the hall to the guarded sitting room, to Snape.
He had taken a brief nap, but he did not want Snape alone when Bill returned to the Circus. He did not want to cause more disruption. He wanted to be there so he could explain everything to Bill, to evade any physical or magical violence.
Micah was sitting across the room from Snape, on a sofa, while Snape chose an armchair. The wereleopard smiled when Harry came into the room. "You should have slept more."
Harry swallowed and shook his head. "Couldn't."
"Last time you slept for ten hours," Micah reminded him.
At that comment, Harry blushed. The feeding Micah was referring to lasted longer than the others---long enough for Asher to roll Harry twice. He had nearly passed out---not only from the bloodloss, but from the excrutiating pleasure of the experience. Afterwards, Asher had treated him to a bath and then tucked him into the big bed to sleep while Asher went to Guilty Pleasures to assist Jean-Claude.
"Last time... was a little different," Harry said quietly.
Snape looked up. He tilted his head, as if he were silently evaluating the conversation occurring in front of him. Harry was glad he didn't have enough blood in his body to blush; he didn't want to give anything else away.
"True," Micah agreed. He cleared his throat and then changed the subject. "Anita called... said she'd stop by tomorrow night, before she goes to work."
"To pick me up?" Harry asked, sounding hopeful.
Micah nodded. "She has an early client and thought you'd like to tag along."
"Brilliant."
"Are you thinking about turning to necromancy, Potter?" Snape asked, interupting their conversation.
Harry sighed. "You just think you know it all, don't you?"
"Hardly." He looked at Micah. "Do you have a large bowl around here that we could use?"
"As what?"
"A pensieve," Harry answered for Snape. He looked at the other wizard. "You have the memory on you?"
"You will see that I promised to carry it with me at all times," Snape replied as he pulled a small vial from his coat's inside pocket. "When you step inside."
Micah coughed. "Uh, what---"
"It'll be easier if you just see it happen," Harry said, smiling a little to reassure the other man. "Don't worry... it's nothing dangerous."
The wereleopard nodded, although he looked unconvinced. "Sure. Okay... I'll go find one."
"Thanks, Micah," Harry said, smiling again.
Once Micah had left the two wizards alone, a silence had fallen upon the room. Harry didn't know what Snape's excuse was, but he knew his own. He could not think of anything to say; he knew that until he saw Snape's memory, he would not be able to find anything to the say. He needed to know the truth before he could proceed.
If Snape had not betrayed the Order of the Phoenix, then Harry could relax somewhat in the older wizard's presence. Snape could be useful: perhaps he could help him find and destroy the last horcrux; perhaps, he could help him sort out his zombie plan; perhaps he could help launch the final (and hopefully successful) battle against Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
If Snape had betrayed the Order, Harry knew events would unfold quite differently. Snape would have to be locked up until Harry could get an Auror to take him back; but, Harry would know the truth and he would stop asking questions.
He realised that knowing the truth would help him, in the end, no matter what it turned out to be.
Part Twelve
Harry dropped down into the memory; he hollered through the fall, even though he knew he'd survive without harm.
He landed and evaluated his surroundings. He was on a cold, damp, stone floor. From the sights and smells, he guessed he was in the dungeons at Hogwarts. When he looked towards the other side of the room, he saw Severus Snape writing upon a piece of parchment at his desk, and deducted that he was in the professor's office.
There was a knock on the door, and then Albus Dumbledore opened it and stepped inside. Harry felt his heart clench at the sight of the old wizard.
"Severus?" he asked quietly.
"Albus," Snape replied as he put his quill down. "What can I do for you at this late hour?"
"I need a favour," Dumbledore said cryptically. "I'm afraid this cannot wait until morning, or else I would have---"
"What is it?" Snape inquired.
Harry moved closer as the dark haired wizard rose and approached the headmaster. He wasn't entirely sure yet why this conversation was so important.
"I... I fear my end is approaching sooner than previously expected."
Snape's face fell. Harry's jaw dropped at the emotion the Potions Master was displaying; he had never seen such a sorrowful expression on Snape's face.
"You must be joking," he said, very softly.
"I wish I was," Dumbledore replied. "This year will be difficult on all of us involved in the Order, Severus. More difficult than before. The chess pieces are moving more quickly, so to speak. I need you to promise me something."
"Anything."
Harry's heart clenched again, this time in anticipation.
"If... if it comes to my life or the preservation of your status as a spy," Dumbledore explained carefully, looking at Snape over his half-moon spectacles. "Or, my life or Harry's..." When he trailed off, Snape didn't snort or scoff. He nodded, instead. "I want you to sacrifice my life for the greater good."
Snape paled. "You cannot be serious---"
"I am very serious."
"But... but... what you are asking of me---"
"It will appear to others that you are breaking your ties with the Order; yes, I have considered that," the headmaster said. "I wish I did not have to ask this of you... I know it will put considerable strain on your role in this war."
"Anything you ask... you know I will---"
Dumbledore nodded. "I know." He paused, combed the fingers of one hand through his long beard. Then, he said, "Severus, would you do me the honour of placing an Unbreakable Vow upon this promise?"
Suddenly, Harry saw how everything fit into place. He wanted to get out of the memory so he could talk with Snape. He felt the urge to apologise to him; he didn't like the sensation, but he felt it all the same.
Snape hung his head and sighed. "Who shall witness it?"
"Minerva is waiting outside."
Harry frowned. He didn't understand why she hadn't informed everyone of the vow after the attack on the castle. It didn't make sense.
Snape agreed to have Professor McGonagall witness the Unbreakable Vow, and then Harry stepped back and watched the trio of professors perform it. When Dumbledore pulled his wand on Minerva, apologised, and then Obliviated her, Harry felt the pieces of the puzzle fit into place again.
The witch left the wizards alone again. Dumbledore turned to Snape and said, "I'd like you to preserve this memory in a vial, Severus. I fear it may be your only defense."
"Yes," Snape agreed on a sigh. "You are correct."
"You will show it to Harry, when the timing is correct," Dumbledore said. Snape nodded. The older wizard smiled. "Good. I have a few words for him... since you will preserve this, would you mind if I...?"
"Go ahead."
Harry watched in amazement as Dumbledore turned towards him---or the empty space next to the two wizards.
"Harry... this year, we will have lessons together that will help you think like the hero you are meant to grow into," the headmaster said sincerely. "I hope you do not forget those lessons. I know I will cherish the time we spend together. I hope you do, as well."
The young wizard swallowed hard. This speech was entirely too difficult to hear.
"I know that this memory will be difficult for you to understand... I know you do not understand why I put yours and Severus' lives ahead of my own, but this is how it must be, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "You and Severus are too important in this war. Trust him, Harry. I ask that of you---trust him as I do. He has always had your best interests at heart, even if you find that hard to believe."
Harry turned and looked at Snape, who was gazing into the fire. He looked uncharacteristically sad.
"When he brings this to you, trust him as you would trust me. I know, with every fibre in my being, Harry, that you two will succeed when you get over your petty differences and begin to work together."
He couldn't supress the urge to look at Snape again. He did not want to believe that he and Snape could work together. And yet, Dumbledore seemed so sure that they could.
"I love you as if you were my own grandson, Harry," Dumbledore said. Harry felt his throat close over, thick with emotion. "You will always been in my heart." He sighed and then smiled a little. "I hope you will look back upon our time together and feel the same way."
Harry started to cry. He couldn't help it.
When he was lifted out of the memory, he was still crying. He gripped Snape's arms, and buried his face into the wizard's chest as he sobbed.
"You... you... you let him do that!" Harry hollered, between ragged breaths.
"I had no choice," Snape said quietly, near Harry's ear. "I owed Albus my life. Anything he asked..."
Harry shuddered and continued to cry. He felt Snape move them backwards; then, Snape sat down, and pulled Harry into his lap.
"Shhh..."
"You... you..."
"Cry," Snape advised. "Let it all out."
"I thought... you were---"
"Shhh," Snape tried again.
Harry gave in and followed the older wizard's suggestion. He cried until he could barely breathe, until his throat and eyes felt raw from the exertion. As he quieted, he felt Snape's hand rubbing his back gently.
"Better?"
"Nguh."
"I know."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Harry asked.
Snape sighed. "Because I remember how I felt after making the Vow, and after he said a few words like those to me."
Harry tried to untangle himself from Snape's arms; he ended up falling onto the floor. Upon regaining his bearings, he saw Jason and Micah in the room, watching him with concerned eyes.
"I'm alright," Harry assured them.
"Maybe you should lie down, or---"
"I'm alright."
Jason backed down. "Okay, okay. I just... I've never seen you so upset before, Harry."
Snape looked at the werewolf and then back at Harry. Harry frowned but didn't say anything. Instead, he pushed himself up onto his feet and looked down at the punch bowl, with the memory swimming around in it.
"We should put that away," Harry said quietly. "When we go back, we'll need it to prove your innocence."
"They will probably lock me up in Azkaban, anyway."
"I won't let them," Harry said firmly, shocking himself as well as Snape with his sharp tone. Then, Harry pulled Snape's wand out of his wand sheath and handed it back to his former professor. "Here. Sorry about that."
Snape smirked as he accepted it. "You did quite well out there, in the graveyard. I see your lessons have not gone to waste."
"I... no. Guess not."
"We have a lot to discuss," Snape said unneccessarily.
Harry nodded. "Please, not tonight, Profess---"
"Severus."
Harry's eyes widened. "I... um. Alright. But, only if you stop calling me Potter. It reminds me too much of school."
"I should call you Harry, then?"
"Sure. Better than The Boy Who Lived."
Snape smirked again. "Fair point." His smirk faded as he took in Harry's appearance. "Pot---Harry, I believe that some rest is in order. You've donated quite a bit of blood tonight, and you've learned a lot that you now have to process."
"But---"
"Tomorrow, we will make our plans to find the horcrux."
"I... um... okay."
The kinder side of Snape's personality confused Harry. It was a side of him he had never seen before. But, he couldn't argue with Snape's logic. He did need to rest.
Jason stood up. "C'mon, Harry. Let's go to bed."
Harry nodded. "Uh..." he found himself unable to speak when he saw Snape's eyebrow lift up in question. He looked away and turned to Jason. "Sure. Yeah."
The werewolf turned and looked at Snape. "Someone will come in and show you to a guest room in a minute."
"Thank you, Mr. Schuyler," Snape said politely.
"No problem."
Harry looked at his former professor one more time, before Jason ushered him out of the sitting room. He let his friend get him out of the jeans, without complaint, and then he fell back onto the bed.
Before he fell asleep, emotionally and physically drained, he felt Jason join him on the bed and bring the covers up over them. The werewolf's warmth was the stimulus that pushed him over the edge, sending him tumbling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Part Thirteen
They had been working at Anita's house for hours, it seemed. Harry was exhausted; he noticed that Snape showed no signs of exhaustion.
The decision to move their research out of the Circus was not a permanent decision. Anita had promised Harry that he could attend a raising that night, so they had planned to leave after Anita got some sleep. When Snape heard of this, he had insisted on accompanying them, so he could see the raising---as well as use all of their available time to conduct research on the museum.
Harry would be Anita's assistant. Snape would watch in the shadows.
Nathaniel came into the kitchen. Harry turned and offered him a smile; the wereleopard returned the expression, before he started moving around the kitchen. Harry heard a tapping on the tabletop in front of him; he turned and saw Snape tapping his wand in front of Harry.
"Focus, Potter."
"You are so annoying," Harry grumbled as he resumed studying the floorplan of the museum.
"You wound me with your words," Snape retorted.
"Do you two ever get along?" Nathaniel asked as he took some dishes down out of the cupboard.
"Rarely, if ever," Harry replied, not looking up from his work.
"Isn't that exhausting?" the long-haired man asked. "I mean, you're working together."
"Potter has always been tiresome."
"Hello, pot... this is the kettle," Harry grumbled, only a little louder than if the words were under his breath. "I hate to point this out to you, but you're black as well."
Snape snorted. Harry smiled a little.
"Besides," Harry pointed out. "I thought we agreed to be on a first name basis."
"We did, but old habits are hard to break," Snape replied, thumbing through an art history book. "As I'm sure you are realising, as well."
Harry sighed and reluctantly nodded.
Nathaniel brought a tray of tea and biscuits to the large table. "Here," he said as he put the tray down. "I made those fresh today," he added, pointing to the biscuits.
"Thank you, Nathaniel," Harry replied, smiling at the wereleopard.
"Yes," Snape agreed. "Thank you."
Nathaniel smiled back at them and nodded, his high ponytail bouncing behind him. "Sure. You two need to recharge your batteries if you're going to keep working so hard."
Harry shrugged and then nodded. "Guess you're right."
"Before he left, Bill told me to watch out for you two," Nathaniel added. "He said you'd both work too hard for too long."
"How'd---"
"It appears that William knows you better than you thought."
Harry turned to Snape. "He knows you pretty well, too."
Snape tilted his head and shrugged. "I have never been afraid of some hard work. You, on the other hand---"
"Oh, stuff it," Harry grouched.
Nathaniel chuckled and walked away. Harry heard him cleaning up. He returned to his own work, making notes as he studied the papers in front of him.
Snape poured the tea into two cups, and passed one to Harry. The younger wizard looked up, startled by the gesture. Snape smirked a little, and then returned to his work.
Harry sniffed the tea first. Snape must have seen him do that, because he chuckled.
"Honestly," the older wizard commented, not looking up from his book. "If I were to harm you, I would not choose poisoning your tea as a tactic."
"Good to know," Harry quipped.
"Still," Snape added. "I am glad to see that you are being cautious."
"Constant vigilence," Harry rumbled, attempting to mimick Alastor Moody.
He didn't really expect Snape to get the joke, but he smiled when he saw a corner of Snape's mouth lift in what he guessed was amusement.
"Exactly," Snape said quietly, before returning to his work.
Part Fourteen
"That was enlightening," Snape said as he, Anita, and Harry walked back to her jeep.
"Cool, too," Harry added, smiling and blushing a little when he felt his former professor glare at him.
Anita chuckled. "Well, I'm glad I could help."
Snape turned to Harry. "Do you believe that this will help the Order?"
He shrugged. "Yeah... I think. I don't know."
Then, Harry launched into the plan he had been formulating since his discovery of necromancy. When he spoke of his parents, he saw Snape tense, but he continued on. He didn't stop until he had finished sharing every last thought with Anita and Snape.
Neither adult spoke immediately afterwards. Harry held his breath, waiting to be told he was a moron.
That never happened.
"You know, Potter," Snape drawled as they reached Anita's car. "This might be the first time I've been thoroughly impressed with a thought you've had."
"For real?"
"Yes," his former professor said.
Anita turned to look at them, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "When would you want this done?" she asked.
"Not until after we destroy the last horcrux," Harry said. "And, we'd have to plan extensively with the Order, to figure out a way to lure Voldemort and the Death Eaters to the graves."
"Okay. Good."
"You have a busy schedule to rearrange, Miss Blake?" Snape asked.
"Well, sort of," she replied, shifting the weight of her heavy gym bag as she opened the trunk. "I'll need to take protection with me, and most of that will be vampires, werewolves, and wereleopards," she explained. "There are politics involved. They'll need to clear entrance into the---"
"The wolves cannot clear entrance into England," Snape interupted. "Firstly, because there is no organisation anything like the one your wolves. Secondly, because the wolves are on Lord Voldemort's side."
"I don't want to run the risk of bringing them with me, only to have them tied up and punished later because they broke protocol."
Snape tilted his head and nodded. "True... that would be unfortunate."
Harry spoke up. "Bill said he was going to look out for leopards and vampires... see what he could find out."
"How will he let us know?" Snape asked.
"We have telephones, you know," Anita said dryly, setting her bag in the jeep and then closing the trunk's door. "He took my cellphone number before he left."
"Good. Hopefully he will be able to inform us of the climate for lycanthropes."
Anita nodded and unlocked the doors of the car. "Yeah... you know, you guys'll have a big bill on your hands after this is over."
Harry opened his mouth, but Snape beat him to responding. "The Order will be able to pay you. If not, I know I can handle it."
"I'll help," Harry added stubbornly. When Snape looked at him, Harry said, "Well, I wouldn't let you pay for it alone. It's not right."
"You and your foolish Gryff---"
"Stuff it."
"That is the... forty-second time you've said that to me since we've started working together."
Harry stuck his tongue out at the other man. Snape snorted. "Very mature, Potter."
"My. Name. Is. Harry," the young wizard said, pushing his finger into Snape's chest with each word. "Use. It."
Snape opened his mouth to challenge Harry's remarks, but the younger wizard turned back to Anita and said, "So, who would come over with you?"
"Micah and Jean-Claude have to stay," Anita said firmly. "Jean-Claude is the Master of the City. If he left, it would be a disaster here. Micah has to stay, to look out for the leopards. We share that throne... I won't abandon my cats."
"You are a lycan---"
"Not exactly."
"Alright."
She looked at Harry. "I'd need someone to feed the ardeur... probably two people. Nathaniel... and anyone else I trust that Jean-Claude would let me take."
"Jason?"
"Maybe... it would depend on Jean-Claude. Jason is his pomme de sang. I won't leave Jean-Claude without a food source."
Harry struggled to hide his disappointment. He had come to enjoy Jason's companionship, and had hoped that he could introduce Jason to his old friends and share some of his previous life with him.
"Other than that, I'd need warriors. I wish Richard would come with me, because when he's fighting... and really focused on it..." Anita trailed off and shrugged. "He's a force to be reckoned with."
"He's the Ulfric, though," Harry pointed out.
"Exactly," Anita agreed.
"Damien?" Harry asked.
"Maybe..."
"We can have willing donors," Snape said. "For any vampire who requires one."
Anita smiled. "That would be nice."
Harry's head swivelled quickly so he could stare at Snape. "Who?"
"I believe the remainder of the Golden Trio, perhaps Miss Weasley and her twin brothers... they would be useful as donors."
Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I doubt they---" he stopped and sucked in a breath. "Well, maybe."
"I suspect the twins would think it was... kinky. They'd enjoy it."
Harry stifled a little laugh. He didn't want to know how Snape had come to that conclusion. Hearing him say 'kinky' was more than enough to process.
"Anyway, Miss Blake, it can be arranged," Snape assured Anita.
"Thanks," she replied. "Let's get you two back to the Circus. It's been a long day, and we could all use some rest. I want to sleep in my own bed for a few hours."
When they were returned to the Circus, a vampire let them inside, and they headed into the main sitting room. Jason was waiting for them. Harry greeted him with a smile.
Jason smiled back. "How'd it go?"
"It was cool," Harry replied. "Anita's considering the trip... which is brilliant."
"Jean-Claude was talking about it, too," Jason said. "Richard came by to talk shop, and your plan came up."
"What'd Richard say?" Harry asked, flopping down on the sofa next to the werewolf. "Bad? Good?"
"He's shocked that your wolves aren't as well-organised as we are," Jason said. "He also thinks that your problems could become our problems... Jean-Claude and Asher agree."
"Very astute of them," Snape commented from one of the bookshelves. He was examining its contents; Harry assumed he was looking for some bedtime reading.
Jason nodded and turned back to Harry. "Yeah... so, we're all thinking about your big plan." He smiled and added, "Asher wants to go with you."
"He does?" Harry asked, blinking. "But what about Jean-Claude and---"
"He feels compelled by your sense of duty, your love and loyalty for your friends," Asher commented from the doorway, shocking the three males in the room. "And he wants to protect Anita."
Harry smiled and blushed. "Hi, Asher."
"Bonsoir, petit agneau," he replied, coming into the room but not stepping into the most well-lit centre of the room. He looked at Snape. "Severus."
"Asher," the Potions Master returned the greeting. "You and Jean-Claude have an exquisite collection of books."
"Merci," he said, bowing slightly at the waist. "La majorité sont de mon ami."
"They are very interesting," Snape replied.
"Choose any that you wish to read," Asher offered. "I have others in my quarters that I can share with you later."
"Thank you," Snape said, appearing to be moved by the gesture.
"Petit agneau?"
Harry turned and looked at Asher. "Yes?"
"Would you mind joining me?"
"Oh... no, of course not," he said brightly. "Do you mind if I clean up first?"
Asher smiled a little. "Mais, non. I believe Jean-Claude has left you a new robe on the back of your door. Join me whenever it is convenient."
"When is Jean-Claude getting back, Asher?" Jason asked.
"Probably in an hour, or so," Asher replied. "He wanted to stay until the end of Nathaniel's grand finale, so he could give l'ardeur enough energy to tide itself over."
"Gotcha," Jason said, nodding. "Cool."
Harry looked at Asher. "I'll see you in a few minutes."
"Very well," the vampire replied.
Asher smiled, and then turned to leave. Once he was gone, Snape turned to Harry. "For how long have you been the vampire's donor?"
"Practically since I've been staying here," Harry replied casually. "It seemed like the right thing to do, since I'm living here and asking for their help. It's only a little blood."
"Do you enjoy it?"
Harry blinked. "What'd'you mean?"
"Do you enjoy it?" he repeated. "What do you find difficult to understand in that question, Potter?"
"Nothing. I just want to know what yo're implying with that question."
"Nothing at all," Snape responded flatly.
"Oh." Harry wasn't sure he believed Snape. Still, he decided to answer the question. "I... I guess I like it well enough. It hurts a bit, but not really. I mean, Umbridge's sodding quill hurt more than this." He blushed and shifted his weight. "And Asher does this mind thing... which makes it feel... just..."
"Fucking incredible?" Jason supplied, grinning.
In response, Harry launched a throw pillow at Jason's head. Jason laughed and threw it back.
"You surprise me, Harry," Snape said quietly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked as his laughter subsided.
"Nothing," Snape replied. "You surprise me when I least expect you to."
"I'm not gay," Harry said quickly, blushing. "I just don't mind being Asher's donor while I'm here."
"I was not jumping to any conclusions," Snape said calmly. "You are simply a deeper person than I had assumed you were."
Harry stood up and stretched, lifting his arms over his head and tilting his head back. He yawned as his arms fell back down to rest at his sides. He smiled at his former professor as he walked to the door. "Well, Severus," he replied in a lazy drawl of a voice. "You know what they say when you assume something..."
"Brat," Snape shot back.
Harry chuckled, waved to Jason, and left the room.
Part Fifteen
Harry had been dozing in Asher's arms, enjoying the afterglow of the vampire's feeding, when Jean-Claude burst into the room. Harry opened his eyes the instant he heard the door hit the wall; Asher had tensed as well.
"Petit agneau," Jean-Claude said quickly. "Il faut que vous--- rather, you and your friend, Severus... vous deux... you must leave."
"Jean-Claude?" Asher asked. "What is it?"
"Anita... she was attacked. I do not know the details, but it appears that there is someone powerful in St. Louis, and if there are political exchanges involved, I fear that you two, as humans, could be in serious danger."
Harry sat up. "Yeah, but we know magic... we could help---"
"Non," Jean-Claude said firmly. "You will take a car from the parking lot, and drive to your museum and retrieve the artifact. Call the Circus every day, and we will inform you when it is safe to return."
"But---"
"Petit agneau, do not argue."
Harry frowned. "I want to help. Is it a vampire? A werewolf?"
"A wolf. Coming to challenge our Ulfric's right to his pack."
"Oh..."
"It is not safe for you here."
"Why not?" Harry challenged.
Jean-Claude stepped into the room and closed the door. "It appears that this werewolf is looking for followers to travel to your country."
The instant the words left his mouth, Harry understood. "Is his name... Greyback?"
"Oui. Je pense que c'est ça."
"Damn! Jean-Claude... you have to... you have to tell Richard that he's really, really off his rocker. He likes to attack children. No, wait, he loves it. And he doesn't follow anyone's laws---he won't follow pack law here---" Harry stopped and sucked in a breath, panic bubbling up inside of him. "He's the one that hurt Bill!" he exclaimed, green eyes suddenly wide.
Asher put his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Shhh... petit agneau."
Harry shook his head. "N-no, you don't understand. He's trying to get followers for Voldemort. He's mad. Completely mad."
Asher rested his cheek against the top of Harry's head. "Take a deep breath."
"Asher---"
"Maitenant."
Harry sighed and sucked in a deep breath. When he exhaled, he did feel a bit calmer. He looked at Jean-Claude. "You need to tell Richard these things," he said quietly. "Please."
"I will," Jean-Claude promised.
"This is why you want Snape and I out of here?"
"Exactement. Your problems have become ours," the vampire replied. "Please, petit agneau... we shall look after our own."
"Please..." Harry breathed. "Please... you all have to be back when we return. I... not just because of this effing war. I... I want you to be--- I mean, I---"
"We understand," Asher said quietly. He nudged Harry towards the edge of the bed. "Go and gather your professor."
Harry nodded, after swallowing a heavy lump from his throat. He cast one long, meaningful look at the vampires, before darting out of the room and down the hall.
He rushed to the bedroom that Snape would be sleeping in and threw the door open. Snape jerked awake, tugging the sheet around his torso as he pointed his wand towards the door.
"Who---"
"Severus!" Harry exclaimed. "We have to get out of here. Fenrir Greyback is here, challenging Richard and Jean-Claude said we have to go---"
Snape growled. "That blasted werewolf," he grumbled, getting out of bed.
Harry blushed when he saw that Snape was wearing nothing but a pair of small, black shorts. He quickly averted his eyes, even though there was nothing but chest, back, and legs for him to stare at. That seemed to be enough for him.
"Where are we going?" Snape asked once he was wearing some clothes.
"Jean-Claude said we should go and check out the museum. If the timing's right we can get the horcrux and destroy it while we're there, right?"
"Yes," Snape agreed. "I suppose that would be a good use of our time."
Harry nodded. Then, he said, "They'll tell us when it's safe to return."
"And how do you suppose we will be travelling?" Snape asked as he put together a bag of necessities.
"Can't you drive?"
"I can apparate, and I can fly on a broom," Snape replied. "But, driving a car was a skill I've never properly honed."
"Brilliant," Harry groaned.
"I take it that you cannot drive?"
"I drove Mr. Weasley's car once, in the Forbidden Forest."
Snape rolled his eyes. "Brilliant," he drawled. "I will have to trust my life in the hands of a wizard who crashes into trees."
"That was Ron."
"Oh, I feel so much better."
"Come on," Harry insisted. "We've got to go."
"Have you packed?"
Harry nodded. "I keep a bag packed by the door, just in case."
"Go fetch it. I will meet you by the exit."
Harry nodded again, and then took off for the room he shared with Jason. When he saw that the room was empty, except for their possessions, he felt a sad pang in his stomach; he didn't know what he had expected, but he assumed he hoped that he would be there for a parting of some kind.
Part Sixteen
On the tenth day of their adventure in New York City, Harry had pushed the number of the Circus into the telephone and waited for someone to answer. Severus was behind him, pacing and generally getting on his nerves. In the four days they were alone, together, Harry realised that the wizard had stopped being 'Snape' in his mind and had transformed into 'Severus.' It was peculier to Harry, because he spent so much of his time thinking of his former professor as a professor, as an enemy---and one did not think of his professor or enemy in kinder, more personal terms, Harry felt.
"Circus of the Damned."
Harry didn't know who had answered the phone, but he was glad for the response. "Hullo," he replied quickly. "This is Harry. Is Asher or Jean-Claude around?"
"Hold on."
"Allo, petit agneau," Jean-Claude said into the phone, a few minutes later. "We have been expecting your call."
"Destroying the goblet was harder than we thought," Harry admitted to the vampire. "How'd... how did the thing go with Greyback?"
"On a fini."
"Huh?"
"My apologies. We have finished with the matter."
Harry bit his lip. "How... how did it go, though?" he asked after a moment.
"He lost a fight with Richard," Jean-Claude answered quietly.
"Huh." Harry didn't know what that meant. And, then, after a few seconds, he realised that Jean-Claude was telling him the werewolf was dead. "Ohhh. Whoa."
"Well said."
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Is everyone alright?"
"When are you returning home?" Jean-Claude had avoided answering Harry's question and provided one of his own.
As he looked at Severus, who was across the dingy motel room and busy organising his things, Harry said, "We're going to get a few hours sleep and come back after that."
"Bien," the vampire replied, sounding satsifed with that answer. "We shall expect you soon, then."
"Most likely."
"Bien. Sleep well, petit agneau."
"Jean-Claude, you didn't answer my---"
"We shall discuss those matters upon your return. Au revoir."
When the vampire ended the call, Harry felt a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. He replaced the phone in its cradle and stared down at it.
"The telephone will not bite, Harry."
"I know," he said quietly.
Severus walked up behind Harry and put a hand on his shoulder. He felt the heavy warmth spread through his shoulder, over his skin, and he marvelled at how things had changed between them both.
"What is the matter?"
"Jean-Claude wouldn't tell me if anyone was hurt," Harry mumbled.
"Of course he wouldn't," Severus replied. "He would not want you rushing across the perilous roads of America in a blind panic."
"I would not rush."
Severus clucked his tongue. "Oh. Right. My mistake," he said in a dry, amused tone of voice. He squeezed Harry's shoulder and said, "Why don't you go take a bath? It will help you relax."
"Honestly, I'd rather just go to bed," Harry told him. "If that's alright with you."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Severus asked. "I am not your keeper."
"Thank goodness for that," Harry shot back, smiling a little as he walked past the older wizard towards the bed.
Severus spoke up as Harry fished in his bag for clothes to sleep in. "If you don't mind, then, I would like to take a long bath."
"Go right ahead," Harry said, shrugging out of his shirt. He tugged the athletic jumper on and noticed that it was one of Jason's. He smiled a little and started to remove his pants as Severus left the bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom.
Harry heard the water running. He changed into his shorts and started to pull the covers back off of the bed.
The bathroom door re-opened. "You better not be hogging the bed when I get out of here, Potter."
"Then you better not take too long, because once I'm out, I can't be held accountable for my actions," Harry shot back as he crawled into his side of the bed.
He fell asleep shortly after Severus stopped running the water. He heard the older wizard slosh the water in the tub around as he submersed his body; but, then, the sounds of bathing faded away as exhaustion seeped through his system.
When he woke up, hours later, he was incredibly groggy. The first thing he thought was that he was lying in a bed of mint leaves. The second thought he had was that he had never been in a bed of mint leaves before. The third thought was that he had not put mint leaves in the bed before he fell asleep.
Before he could open one eye to figure out what was going on, Severus spoke quietly.
"Tell me, Harry, when you said you could not be accountable for your actions, were you referring to your subconscious preference to sleep on top of whoever is sharing your bed?"
Harry groaned, and buried his face in what he thought was the mattress; a second later, he realised he was digging his nose into Severus' chest.
"Are you quite comfortable?"
Harry groaned again and rolled off of the other wizard. "I'm sorry... I'm used to sleeping with Jason. He usually pins me down."
"Jason is your lover?"
"Ohhh... n-no. D-defin-initely n-not." He paused and struggled to calm himself; something about Severus' question had raised the hairs on the back of his neck and heightened his nerves. "Lycans like to share beds with others," he explained. "Skin on skin contact is comforting to them. When I started having nightmares, Jason kind of... well, he took me under his wing. We share a room just because we like to." He sighed and rubbed his blurry eyes. "I guess I wanted comfort. Sorry."
"Apology unnecessary, but accepted."
Harry sighed and nodded, before putting his arms over his head, covering his face and hiding the blush that he knew had developed over his cheeks.
"Are you embarrassed, Harry?"
"Yes. No. I don't know."
Severus chuckled. "Being confused is a state of mind for a teenager. You will grow of it."
"I'm not confused."
"You sound like you are."
"I'm not, okay?!"
"Alright."
Severus' patient tone was very frustrating. Harry sighed again and flopped over onto his stomach, his head turned away from Severus. "I'm gonna sleep a bit more," he grunted.
"Fine with me," Severus replied in that same tone of voice.
Part Seventeen
"It's locked," Harry said quietly. "It's never locked. Someone is always at the door, even in the day."
Severus smoothed his hand over the solid wooden surface. "Are you certain?"
"I've been living here for..." he tried to do a calculation in his head, but he found himself unable to while he was worrying about what was happening inside the building. "Months. Long enough. It's never been locked."
"Alohamora," Severus said with a wave of his wand.
Harry pulled his wand out of his sleeve and walked carefully through the door after Severus opened it.
The Circus of the Damned had never been so quiet. Harry found his breath coming and going in short, shallow trips; the grip on his wand was tighter than it had been in a long time.
Severus put his free hand on Harry's shoulder and tried to step past him. Harry shrugged his hand off and continued down the stairs; he didn't want Severus to go down first, he didn't want or need a guard.
The older wizard took the hint and fell into step behind Harry. They walked slowly down into the heart of the Circus---and straight into Jean-Claude.
"You've arrived," he said quietly.
"Yes! Where is everyone?"
"Ma petite is in my room, recovering," he explained quietly. "Jason is in your room. He is still quite weak. Richard is at his home, recovering as well. Everyone is under some strain---"
"Asher?"
"My room, as well."
"What's wrong?" Harry asked. "Did... did he do too much damage? Did someone else die?"
Jean-Claude shook his head. "No, petit agneau. I apologise... my energy is draining, and I have not been able to feed l'ardeur for a few days, since everyone has been injured---"
"How... can I be your food?"
Jean-Claude's lips curved into a small smile. His glance shifted to Severus. "He is eager. Looking without leaping."
Severus snorted. "That describes him well."
"Stuff it."
"Oh, not that again," Severus drawled.
"Yes, that again," Harry shot back. "They... they were hurt because of me. I want to help!" He looked at Jean-Claude. "What can I do?"
"Would you like to see your friends first?" Jean-Claude asked. "Severus and I may---"
They had shifted into the light of one of the lamps; Harry saw the faint remains of bruising on Jean-Claude's face and let a low moan escape his lips.
"Oh, god," he said quietly. "Jean-Claude, I'm---"
"Do not apologise."
"I brought him here---"
"In fact, petit agneau, you did not," the vampire explained. "He was only here to find more wolves to join him."
"How did he---"
"Richard put an end to his visit here," he said diplomatically. "Now, go see Jason and Asher... Micah and Nathaniel are somewhere through here as well."
"Sev---"
"We will go into the sitting room and discuss l'ardeur."
"Oh. Okay."
When Jean-Claude gave him a small smile, he smiled back and took off towards his bedroom. First, he wanted to see Jason. He was afraid; he wanted to see how bad the damage was.
The door opened soundlessly, but Jason still opened his eyes and smiled.
"Smelled you," he whispered drowsily. "Smell good."
Not knowing what that comment meant, Harry ignored it, and then blushed in the dimly lit room. "I just got in... Jean-Claude said---"
"That wolf was crazy," Jason said, easing himself into a sitting position. He winced and put a hand to his ribs. Harry closed the door and stepped up to the bed to survey the damage.
"Geez, Jason," Harry moaned. "You shouldn't sit up. You---"
"Don't worry about me," Jason interupted. "I'll be fine."
"But---"
"I changed into wolf form once already, it helped with the healing---"
"You can change when it's not a full moon?" Harry asked, confused.
Jason nodded. "Any lycan can. Micah was forced to spend too much time in cat-form... that's why his eyes are like that. They couldn't change back."
"I have a friend who's a werewolf. He only changes on the moon..."
Jason shrugged. "Dunno what to tell you.
Harry sighed. "Hm. Interesting," he commented after a moment. "I'll bet Lupin would like to hear that."
"Is he a nice, British wolf?"
Harry smiled, feeling sadness and regret seeping into him. He wished he could have been with Jason and the others. He couldn't help but think that their pain was his fault.
"He is," he said quietly.
"You have to go feed Asher," Jason said softly.
"I have to do more than that, apparently," Harry said, before launching into an abbreviated version of what Jean-Claude told him. When he had finished, he saw Jason's lips curve into a slow smile. "What?"
"You'll enjoy it," Jason said quietly, still smiling. "I promise."
"What... what is it?"
"I'm guessing... you'll be having sex with someone," Jason said simply. "While Jean-Claude feeds off of your blood and energy."
Harry knew his face was bright red; he could feel the burning heat seeping through his cheeks. "I have to... what?" he squeaked. "You're putting me on."
"I'm telling the truth," Jason explained, slowly easing himself down onto his back. "Anita feeds the ardeur through sex... through body contact. Jean-Claude does as well. Sometimes they feed off of the crowd's sexual energy at the club. But, it's always sexual."
"Oh," Harry croaked.
"You've had sex, right?"
Harry stared at Jason.
Jason's eyes widened. "Oh... well... your first time'll be special."
"What... who will I... Jean-Claude?!"
"No... that'd break the rules," Jason replied calmly. "How do you feel about Severus?"
Harry wanted the world to swallow him whole and never spit him back out. He sputtered for a few minutes, looked wildly around the room for some sort of answer or distraction. When he couldn't find one, he looked at Jason again.
"You must be joking."
"I'm not," Jason replied. "Asher and Jean-Claude will be there with you. And, Severus is kind of---"
"Don't say it."
Jason laughed quietly. He groaned and put a hand against his ribs. Harry reached out and touched Jason's hand. "I'm okay," Jason assured him. "Just tender."
"So, you're not on my list."
"Just not this time," Jason said as flirtaciously as Harry guessed he could muster. Harry looked away and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Jason reached out and touched Harry's arm. "Relax. It'll be okay."
"I... you think so?"
"Yeah. You trust Asher, right?"
Harry nodded. "Y-yeah."
"He'll be there with you. He'll help you get through it."
Harry bit his lip nervously. "I've never... I mean... having Asher roll me has been the most intense situation I've ever..." he trailed off and laughed nervously. "Merlin, I'm insane," he mumbled.
"Do you want me in the room with you?"
Harry swallowed hard. "Anymore people in there, and it'll feel like a spectacle," he muttered, closing his eyes. "The Boy Who Lived Loses His Virginity."
"Hey..." Jason said quietly. He inched up enough to tug Harry down onto the mattress. Harry fell easily, and Jason draped an arm around his small frame. "It's not like that. Not here. Not with us," he whispered. "It's about healing and feeling good."
Harry sighed. He could feel his eyes welling up with tears, but they never splashed onto his cheeks. Jason's warmth was spreading through him. The body-on-body contact worked wonders on his nervous system.
"Asher and Jean-Claude will make sure you're alright. Anita probably won't stick around. She doesn't like watching guys---"
"I'm not gay, though," Harry whispered, shaking a little.
"Could you be bi?"
Harry paused. He hadn't fully considered that as an option. Jason exhaled slowly; the breath blew across Harry's skin and made the wizard shiver.
"Look. Just talk with them about it," Jason advised, not passing any judgement. "For the next couple of days, we have a shortage of food around here."
"Yeah," Harry whispered.
"You stopped shaking," Jason commented.
Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "I like... well, I've gotten used to..." he trailed off and laughed. "I woke up on top of Severus a couple of times. I'm used to crashing here."
Jason chuckled. "He seems pretty uptight. How'd he handle it?"
"Fine. He didn't freak out. He just kind of... commented on it and then let it drop."
"He's okay, then."
Harry nodded. "Yeah. I guess so."
Jason hugged Harry closer. "Just relax," he murmured. "You're just Harry here. No one's putting you on display. Do whatever you want to do---do whatever feels right."
The werewolf's words were soothing to Harry's nerves. He nodded and let his friend's warmth sink through him.
"You're gonna be fine."
Harry believed him.
To be continued...