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Voldemort's curse backfired upon the noseless bastard and ended the war, as Harry had expected. What Harry hadn't expected was the giant light storm and a sudden jerk behind his navel. Waking up in that strange version of King's Cross the next moment had come as a shock, too.

What in Merlin's name had gone wrong? That killing curse hadn't hit him… had it?

Harry searched the train station for a guide, a clue—Dumbledore, perhaps—but he found no hint of life beyond the smoke rising from the Hogwarts Express' stack. The driver might have answers. Maybe.

"Hey, I think I'm lost. Can you tell me…." Harry stared into the empty cab, and his stomach dropped. Alone. Merlin help him, what was he supposed to do now?

He stepped down again and crossed his arms over his chest. There had to be someone else around, somewhere. Why else would he have come here? If he had honestly died, well, he would have just… gone on, wouldn't he?

"Hello? Can someone help me?"

The silence reverberated in Harry's ears.

He swallowed a bolt of terror and cried, "Hey! Is anyone here?" His voice cracked. "A-anyone?"

Only the echoes answered him.

No. There had to be another answer. Why would he have died when nothing had hit him?

Unless….

When Voldemort failed to kill Harry twice, had part of Harry's soul latched on to his, too?

No. No! Harry had never killed anyone. Not intentionally, anyway.

"Sirius, no!"

"Cedric!"

"There is no good and evil, Potter. There is only power and those too weak to take it."

"Look… at… me…."

"No!" Harry sucked in a shaky breath—not a sob, it couldn't be a sob—and raced down the path. This road had led him back to Hogwarts before. It had to work again, right? He ran through a cloud of mist, hope bright and tingling in his veins. He would be all right now. Just a few more steps, and….

The mist cleared, and Harry crashed through a veil of darkness. A familiar scent teased his nostrils, and some small part of him knew it shouldn't be there, that something had gone wrong, but he fell into oblivion before he could work out what.

Severus hadn't expected death would feel like this. He might have classified this as any other day if not for the pain in his neck and the walls pinning him in—walls with no exit. Shelves of books filled his prison, but they held only blank parchment, no true words.

So this was his fate. To go slowly mad in a cage he had never wanted anyway.

He had never asked to be headmaster, after all.

"Damn."

Albus snorted in his frame and shook himself awake. "Oh, Severus? You aren't supposed to be here, I think."

Severus sent him his most potent death glare. "Am I not? And who was it, again, who sentenced me to death by his own demise?"

Albus frowned. "You were never meant to die."

"Yes, well, the best laid plans of mice and men—and meddling old bastards—so often go awry, as they say."

Albus stroked his beard and stared into the distance. "This is most unusual. Most unusual indeed."

Severus might have lambasted him in the fires of his fury if he hadn't heard a heavy step on the stair first. The door creaked and swung forwards, and Severus held his breath. No matter who came through that door, they would loathe him, perhaps not unjustly.

A feminine boot stepped into the room, followed by singed tartan robes, and Severus' heart sputtered. Minerva. Merlin help him. He had regarded her as a friend, almost a mother figure once, but all that had died a grim death when Albus went sailing off the astronomy tower. Severus closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath—did portraits breathe? His lungs expanded and the air cooled his lips as it rushed past, but perhaps it was only simulated.

More realism to hurry his descent into madness, how wonderful.

Minerva's breath stuttered, too, and Severus froze. No. In twenty years, he had never seen—but it was true. As Minerva staggered into the office, shoulders hunched and trembling, the light glinted on her cheeks. Tears.

Gods.

"Minerva," Albus said, voice soft, "dear girl, what has happened to hurt you so?"

Minerva's head snapped up, and the fire and strength Severus had always admired in her cracked in her eyes. "What has happened? Only a bloody war, Albus. Only the deaths of twenty of our students, most of whom hail from my own house. Only the deaths of thirty members of the staff and Order, all of which occurred before my very eyes, nothing too significant."

Fifty deaths. Severus closed his eyes and lamented the lives he hadn't been free to protect.

"Oh." Albus' voice wavered a little. "Fifty… so many. And so many young lives cut short. Minerva, I am so very sorry."

'So am I.' Severus wished he might say so aloud, but to do so now would only twist the knife in her chest.

"If—if it is not too cruel to ask, the war…?" Albus struggled to find words, for once. "I do not mean to be callous, Minerva, but should we expect more lives lost, or…?"

Minerva gave a strangled whimper. "It is over. We have won, but the cost…."

Albus nodded, and tears streaked his face as well. Severus wished he still had the ability to mourn.

"Harry came through for us then. I always knew that boy would go far."

Minerva's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. "Far? No, you meddling fool, he will go nowhere at all now, as he was the last to die for our freedom!"

Albus gasped. "Die? But that is impossible! The magic of Harry's sacrifice should have protected him! Tom should not have been able to touch him at all."

"I saw it happen, Albus. We all thought him dead, but it was only a ruse. Harry appeared out of nowhere and faced him down like the hero he was. He challenged him, turned his words back on him, and, for a moment, I thought it would be well. I have never seen that monster show fear until that moment, when Harry urged him to try for some remorse."

Severus clenched his fists at his side to keep silent. 'Oh, you brave, foolish, beautiful boy. How I wish I might have saved you.'

Fresh tears rolled over wrinkled cheeks. "For a moment, I believed—we all believed—but then it all went wrong! You-Know-Who sent the killing curse at Harry, and Harry attempted to curse him as well—I could not tell which spell he used—and then, both spells turned back onto You-Know-Who. He was felled by his own curse, but then there was a great flash of light, and when it cleared…." Her voice broke. "They were both dead. I—we—no one understands how, but…." She covered her face and shuddered. "H-he is gone."

Severus lowered his head, chest cold and heart heavy. 'Harry….'

"That… simply cannot be," Albus said, expression grim. "No, I think—"

"I don't care what you think, Albus!" Minerva turned away. "The boy is dead, as cold and lifeless as any of the corpses littering the halls. Your denial does nothing to change the facts and everything to—to damage me further."

"Minerva, forgive me. It is only that—the blood magic around Harry's sacrifice, around my own and Severus'—it should have shielded them both. So I think there must be something else afoot, something that we cannot yet see, perhaps, but with time and consideration—"

"Severus?" Minerva rounded on him, eyes hard. "Severus' sacrifice? Have you forgotten who it was who murdered you, Albus?"

"Not at all. Tom Riddle has quite a few deaths on his hands, as it happens. Mine was not much different."

"Tom—have you gone mad? Severus killed you! That man, whom you swear sacrificed to save Harry, was a coward and a traitor!"

Severus blinked hard. 'I fled to spare you pain.'

"No, Minerva. Severus obeyed my orders to the last. He has never betrayed me."

Severus couldn't stifle his anguish enough to silence a quiet gasp, and Minerva whipped around at the sound. His heart throbbed and his stomach lurched, but he stood tall and unyielding. If she destroyed him, it was no more than he deserved.

"You!" Minerva's hand trembled around her wand, but he had no doubt her curse would strike true regardless. "You have no right to hang here, you traitorous wretch!" A slash across the canvas struck Severus in the chest and left a deep, bleeding gash from shoulder to hip. He couldn't prevent a flinch or a gasp, but he gave no protest, no other sign of pain.

He would not die on his knees.

"Minerva!" Albus' cry gave her pause, if only for an instant. "Stop! I am neither mad nor forgetful, and Severus does not deserve your wrath!"

"Not deserve? Bollocks! The man killed you, and even if he had not, the students have suffered terribly under his rule. He is—"

"Dumbledore's right-hand man, as he has been for eighteen years," said Phineas Nigellus with a hard scowl. "Merlin spare me the plague of Gryffindors! All emotion and bravado and no caution or reason."

"Phineas," Albus said in a tone of mild reproach. "I, for one, am more interested in your view of Severus than I am in your opinion on the finer attributes of Gryffindors—at least at this time, when Severus' life is in danger."

Phineas glanced to Severus and flinched slightly. "Perhaps you are right, Albus—this time. Very well. The point, madam, is that Severus truly has done all he can to protect the students and serve the light, as any of us could tell you had you ever thought to ask."

"Hear, hear," said Armando Dippet. "Coward—bah! A braver man you will never meet."

"Yes, exactly," said a healer headmistress whom Severus had never had occasion to speak with. "He's no traitor, madam. You're attacking the wrong man."

Minerva blanched. "What? I don't—ah. I see." She glared at Severus. "Confunded them, have you? A valiant effort, I must say, but I am not so foolish as all that."

"That's debatable," Phineas muttered.

Severus stared at the wall opposite and waited for the next curse to fall.

"What, nothing to say, Severus? You disgust me!"

Severus remembered those words from Albus' lips and bowed his head. He had tried so hard, given so much, but in the end, it was never enough. Nothing could erase his sins. Not even death, it seemed.

"Minerva, stop!" Albus' voice broke. "If you must, use the counterspell on us before you curse him again. Please."

Minerva cried, "Albus, I cannot believe you! How can you insist—"

"Because I know Severus. I also know there is more here at play than appears. I fear, if you carry out your threats, Minerva, you will become a murderer."

"I? Poppycock! He is only a portrait, and I—"

Something warm and heavy crashed into Severus and toppled him to his knees. A curse? But Minerva hadn't cast, and whatever it was had come from behind him anyway.

Severus turned, grimacing at the pull on his injuries, and stilled at the sight before him. Tousled black hair, tanned skin on a scrawny hide, marked all over with ash and blood, tattered denims and an overlarge tee with holes throughout, both from curses and wear.

And those infamous glasses he would recognise anywhere.

"Harry?" Severus ignored Minerva's gasp and lifted the boy's chin. Harry's scar had faded, and the dirt and bruises marring his face covered too much of his features, but Severus knew anyway. The press of his magic, the scent of his aura was too familiar, too ingrained into Severus' own being to mistake.

"Harry…."

Severus scooped the boy into his arms, ignoring the sharp lance of pain across his chest and the tug at his sore neck. He stood and cradled the boy close—with the Dark Lord dead, he had no further reason to pretend. It didn't matter now anyway. They were both trapped in this world between worlds, and Severus' true loyalties could damage neither man more than fate already had.

"I would not have stopped your retribution for my own sake, Minerva," Severus said, his voice soft and low. "I deserve whatever fate you would give me, and whether I served the light under deep cover or not means little when I still committed the crimes for which you condemn me." He lifted his gaze to find her staring, eyes wide and hand pressed to her mouth. "But for his sake, I beg you to stay your wand. Whatever fate my sins have earned, he is innocent."

Minerva made a strangled sound of grief and stepped closer. "H-Harry? Oh, child. How?"

Severus gazed down at the boy's injured, dirty face and thought him lovely anyway. "I do not know. Perhaps the sacrifice of a tainted soul means little against the horrors of war."

He sat on the floor with the boy and wiped tears and dirt from his face with a corner of his sleeve. "Would that I might have spared you this fate."

Minerva gave a broken whimper, and Severus gasped at a sudden rush of wetness and heat on his cheeks. Tears. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to cry.

Perhaps some small fraction of pure soul yet remained within him after all, at least enough to mourn the loss of an innocent boy who had never deserved the pain and hardship the world had shoved onto his small shoulders.

Harry woke to the sensation of someone brushing gentle fingers through his hair. Oh, thank Merlin. He must have found the way back after all.

Slowly, his other senses came back online, and he realised the scent from before had followed him. Bergamot and herbs, and a faint musk. A pleasant enough fragrance, but not one he could place—and yet, he should know it. Where had he smelled this before?

Soft breaths, stilted and unsteady, brushed the tips of his hair and whispered across his ears. Someone in mourning and trying to hide it. Harry understood too well.

"I am so sorry."

The whisper against his hair soothed him, as did the sudden warmth of a slim body holding him against a firm chest. Ginny? No. This person was too big, though as slender as Harry himself, and he couldn't help noticing the acute lack of feminine attributes. A man then, but who? Ron was bigger than this man, and the scent and angles were all wrong anyway.

The scent must have belonged to the person caring for him, then. Who did he know who smelled like this? He sniffed the air to get a better bearing on the owner of that enticing fragrance, but a metallic tang cut through Harry's peaceful curiosity instead and jolted him into full consciousness.

Blood. The man holding him was injured, badly. Merlin, Harry needed to pull himself together. He neither knew much of healing nor had Hermione's dittany on him, but, if he could muster the strength, maybe could help the man to the infirmary.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head. "It's okay. I'm…."

His eyes met a sorrowful, dark gaze, and everything stopped. The thunderous beat of his heart echoed in the silence, his ears rang with the whisper of their breathing.

And slow, silent tears slid down the face of a man Harry had thought he would never see alive again.

"P-Professor?"

Snape nodded, an economical motion, and eased back from Harry. Harry's eyes tracked to the man's throat, but the wound he had expected to find had closed and left behind only a silvery scar. Where had the blood come from then? He let his eyes travel lower and gasped. Snape's chest bore a deep gash all across the front and down to his hip. Bloody hell.

"I—I don't understand. Your neck—and how?" Harry lifted his hand towards the wound and pulled it back. "I thought you were dead."

Snape closed his eyes and motioned to the window. Harry looked around him with a frown. Books everywhere and no way out, no way in but that strange window ahead. Had he come through it before? Or perhaps magic had led him here without the need for physical travel. Apparition?

He swallowed a bolt of nervous tension and staggered to the window, but rather than a view of the outside world, he found himself staring into the headmaster's office. McGonagall, standing a few yards away, sobbed at the sight of him and covered her mouth. "Oh, Harry."

McGonagall, crying? Dear god. The very idea left him with a queer sense of unreality.

"Ma'am? How did I…?"

Harry glanced to the office, then to Snape, watching him with an expression of deep grief, and back to McGonagall. A terrible suspicion crept into his mind and set his pulse pounding again.

No. No, it had to be a hidden room somewhere. But Snape had died, and McGonagall was crying, and….

"W-where am I?"

"My portrait," Snape said, voice soft and unsteady as Harry had never heard it in life. Cracked with emotion the man had never been free to show. Snape's grief brought it home to Harry—if they had lived, the spy would never have revealed this side of him. It wouldn't have been safe to reveal it.

Harry sank to his knees beside Snape. "I-I'm dead?"

Snape flinched a little and let his head fall. "I am so sorry."

The repetition crashed through Harry like a bolt of lightning, like a curse to the heart.
'Avada Kedavra!' He cried out and pounded the glass, but it wouldn't give. He tried to draw the hawthorn wand next, but it had vanished.

"No." He dashed to the back wall and searched behind the books for an exit. Text after text went flying to the ground, but he found nothing behind them save dark wood and more books—books without words.

"N-no!"

He staggered to another bookshelf, prepared to tear it to pieces if it let them out, but strong, slender arms wrapped around him and stilled him against a warm, firm body.

"Harry…." Snape's voice warmed Harry's ear. He said nothing further—what could he say? Snape had never been one for false comfort, and he had no real hope to offer.

No hope. No life. No more time.

Harry's breath stuttered in a sob, and he slumped against Snape with a whimper.

Harry had never sugarcoated the truth either, and everywhere he looked confirmed the dreadful realisation chilling his soul. They were dead, even if he didn't understand how.

Severus felt the fight leave the boy and mourned the loss of his bravery, his life. The finality of it settled on him, heavy and cold as the deepest, darkest abyss, and he sank to his knees under its weight. Harry knelt with him, shoulders trembling and breath staggered and too rapid.

Gods. Severus had expected to die. He had known twenty years ago this war would end him one day. Hell, he had stared his own death in the face every day for three years and several more before the Dark Lord's first demise, but Harry? How did it feel to survive a walk to his own death only to die in earnest just as he finished his mission? To have his life snatched away just as he had begun to hope everything would work out for the best?

The idea left Severus in agony for him.

No, he had no words to comfort the boy, but perhaps his presence and touch could help, if only a little. He ignored the pain of his wounds and held Harry tighter.

"I am here."

It was all he could say, the only honest comfort he had left.

Harry turned with a whimper and threw his arms around Severus' neck. The boy's weight crashed against his injuries, and Severus couldn't help a little gasp at the shock of pain.

Harry winced and moved back. "Merlin. I'm sorry. You're hurt." He grimaced at the deep wound and the mess. "Oh god, you're covered in blood."

It hardly mattered—they couldn't be any bloodier or messier—but nevertheless, Severus didn't look forward to enduring such a foul mess as long as his portrait lasted. Shame portraits couldn't do spells, or he would simply—

"Tergeo!"

Severus opened his mouth to tell the boy that portraits had no magic, but the blood had moved. Not much, understandably so given Harry had no practice with wandless spells, but it had responded to his power.

"Clear your mind of all thoughts save your purpose. Focus only on the spell and your intent, and try again."

Harry sniffled. "N-not sure if I can."

Severus stared at the boy's trembling hands. "Yes. I understand."

Harry rubbed his wrist across his eyes. "Thanks. If I have to be—" His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard. "Well, I'm glad you don't hate me anymore."

"I never have. It was an act to keep you—" Severus swallowed his words. He had failed the boy in that, too.

Harry understood anyway. "Yeah. I see that now, sir."

"Harry, I…." Severus' apology stuck in his throat. It was just as well. No words reached far enough to cover his sins against this boy, and surely not the whole of them. He touched Harry's hand, a tentative, gentle gesture, and let slip a shaky breath as warm fingers closed around his own.

"Thanks. I'm sorry, you know. For all the rubbish I put you through and that I couldn't…." Harry winced and let his head fall. "I-I really did try to save you."

Severus smoothed his palm against the boy's cheek. "Hush. I accepted the inevitability of my death decades ago. You do not bear the burden of guilt for me, nor for anyone."

Harry's eyes shone too bright. "I think I must. Why else would I have died when…?"

Severus closed his eyes and pulled the boy's head onto his shoulder. "I don't know, Harry, but it is true."

Harry shuddered and pressed his face into Severus' neck. Severus wondered at the warmth of Harry's breath, the rough brush of stubble, and the depth of the boy's forgiveness. With a quiet sigh, he cupped Harry's head closer and thanked Merlin that he could feel this, the touch of his companion, Harry's tears rolling down his neck and Severus' own on his face, the way Harry's hand clutched Severus' fingers.

Perhaps extra realism wasn't so bad after all.

Minerva stood before the painting and watched Severus comfort Harry with a shattered heart. Was this the true man buried under his masks and pride? It hurt that she had never known. She had never questioned that hard persona, the sharp words, cutting tongue, and cold affect. Never doubted Severus had meant that curse on the tower with all of him.

She should have remembered Severus had loved a Muggleborn girl enough to risk his life for her—and for the boy in his arms.

"Severus, I…." What could she say? No words encompassed such abandonment, even if she, perhaps, had had just cause to doubt his loyalties.

Severus looked up, too much understanding in his eyes. "No. You owe me nothing, Minerva. You did nothing but what I needed you to do."

"But, I—"

"No. No apologies from you."

Minerva sighed and wiped her eyes. "I hardly have the words anyway."

Severus turned back to Harry. "Yes. I believe I can imagine."

She pressed her hand to her mouth. "Harry, I, if I could—"

"I know, ma'am." Harry looked up, eyes haunted. "If it's not too much to ask, could you—could you not tell my friends I'm here? At least, not yet. I can't face—I need some time."

"Yes, I suppose you would do at that." She stepped back and steeled her spine. "Well then, I will leave you in peace, but do know you may call upon me at any time you have need. Severus, I—" She took a shaky breath. "You may as well."

Severus gave her a sad hint of a smile. "Thank you, Minerva. I believe we are… well enough, considering."

Minerva tried a healing charm on Severus' wounds, but the magic glanced off the painting. "Ach. Forgive me."

He waved her off. "I have endured worse."

That did not comfort her.

She grimaced. "Perhaps Argus will know what to do…." With that thought in mind, she gave the men one last look and left them to their grief.

As she turned the handle, Albus murmured, "Curious. How very curious."

Ach. The portrait had even less mental stability than the man.

Harry watched the door close behind McGonagall and let his breath out in a rush. Grief was all well and good, but her failed spell and comment about Filch had reminded Harry of Snape's injuries and the blood all over them both.

Hm. Blood? He sniffed his stained shirt and frowned.

"It smells real."

Snape grimaced. "Indeed."

Harry rubbed a little between his fingers. "Are portraits supposed to bleed? I mean, when Sirius attacked the Fat Lady, she didn't have any cuts, did she?"

Snape opened his mouth and closed it again. "She did not. That said, Emelda was able to evade Black and escape to a neighbouring portrait. We do not have that option."

"Curious and curiouser," Dumbledore muttered.

Snape scowled in the old man's general direction.

"Just ignore him, sir. He was barmy in life. I doubt being painted has improved the situation any."

Snape snorted and gave Harry a wry smile. "Perhaps this will not be quite as torturous an existence as I had feared."

Harry winced. "Still pretty miserable."

Snape nodded and motioned him close, but Harry shook his head.

"We're both a mess, sir. You said to clear my mind? I think we both know that's hard for me. Can you spell this off?"

"I…." Snape frowned. "That is a good question. I had thought portraits had no magic, but—"

"We don't," said Phineas Nigellus. "We're just paint and spells. We don't have cores."

"Be that as it may, this mess responded to Harry's magic earlier."

"It did?" A healer headmistress peered into Harry and Snape's painting. "Now that is strange. Do try it, Severus."

Snape hesitated. "I…."

Harry squeezed his hand. "If you can heal yourself, I'd feel a lot better."

"I think this will not respond to healing. Minerva could not heal it."

"Maybe, but…." Harry had to try something. "Well, just try to clean the blood first and we'll go from there."

"Blood?" Phineas Nigellus narrowed his eyes. "Hm."

"What?"

"Nothing. Try the spell, Severus. It shan't harm you if it fails."

"True, I suppose." But Snape's hand trembled.

Harry tried to comfort him with gentle pressure against his shoulder. "It's all right. Whatever happens, we'll figure it out."

Snape nodded tersely and lifted his hand. "Tergeo." The spell came out in an uncertain murmur, but it worked. Harry watched the blood siphon into Snape's hand and vanish with a wan smile.

"Well, at least you have your magic still, sir."

Snape stared at his hands. "Yes, though I don't understand how."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe this is just a weird portrait. I mean, we're both stuck in the same one, but we weren't… painted into this together, so that's odd to start with."

Snape nodded, expression pensive. "Hm." He stared at his chest and murmured, "Vulnera Sanentur." The wound sparkled and closed.

"That was rather easier than I had expected," Harry said.

"Yes." Snape frowned and poked his clean, healed chest. "I had expected more of a challenge myself, particularly wandless."

"Well, it's just simulated, right?" Though this didn't feel fake to Harry. "So it must be easier to fix than real flesh and blood."

"Hm. Perhaps." But Snape kept frowning and poking his chest.

"Hey, can you teach me, sir? Maybe I could fix our clothes."

Snape looked up. "Hm? Oh, yes. I will try at any rate."

Harry gave a sad snort. "No point in fighting any longer, sir."

Snape rubbed Harry's hair. "Indeed. Well then, clear your mind, Harry, and we will begin."

Harry nodded and settled into his lesson.

Hermione buried her face in Harry's still form and wept as she never had before. Nothing in her young life had ever cut this deeply. The war had bonded them together as family—Hermione and her boys—and now one of them was gone, and the other had just lost a brother.

No. Two brothers.

"Oh, Harry. I d-don't understand! The spell didn't hit you. Oh god, I just don't understand." She rocked his body against her and cried into his shoulder. "Harry…."

Ron knelt beside her and pressed his head into her hair. "Can't believe this. I t-thought we had won!"

"We did," came Ginny's broken voice. "But this doesn't feel much like victory." She lifted Harry's hand to her chest and covered tears. "I-I should have helped him. I should have defended him. Maybe if I had, he—"

"Don't," Ron choked out. "Don't go there, Ginny. The what ifs will drive you mad."

Ginny nodded and sobbed. "I thought we would be a family. All of us—this isn't right!"

"No," Hermione said. "It's awful and wrong and—god, I just want them back. Fred, Harry, Professor Lupin and Tonks—they didn't deserve to…." She broke down, and the others grieved with her, too miserable, too empty for words. No words could reach far enough to cover the void Harry's loss left behind.

A soft sound, like the trill of a flute, brushed across the distant edges of her senses, then a burst of magic and light blinded her. She cried out and clutched Harry's body tighter, but her arms closed around air.

"W-what? Harry?"

Hermione blinked red and black spots away and stared at Harry's empty bed. Mute and shaking, she gaped, unable to comprehend the emptiness where Harry should be.

"Harry!" Ginny's stricken cry snapped Hermione out of her shock.

"Oh god, where—Harry!"

Heart pounding in her throat, she cast a shaky Homenum Revelio. It was the cloak—had to be. Someone had thought he deserved privacy and his father's legacy. The words jangled in her brain as the spell showed one, two, three auras.

The fourth never appeared.

"No…."

Harry was gone.

With the castle in shambles, Minerva supposed it was to be expected that Argus would be difficult to track down, but it miffed her anyway. Of all the times to hide away with his ruddy cat.

She paused at the entrance to the great hall corridor and turned her face away. No. She didn't blame him for seeking solitude, not tonight. They had all lost something dear.

Harry had bought them their freedom, yes, but at far too high a price.

She sighed and started back towards the tower. Perhaps a stronger healing charm would take, or, if nothing else, Reparo might do something.

As her foot hit the stair, a low voice, broken and punctuated with sniffles, called to her.

"Professor?" Hagrid stepped closer and blew his nose into a spotted handkerchief with a great honk. "Sorry 'bout that. Just wanted ter tell you that I went down to the shack after the headmaster's body, but it ain't there. Shack's all covered in blood, but I can't find Headmaster Severus for the life o' me."

"Gone?" Minerva shuddered. "Oh, Severus." Considering both sides of the war had reason to wish Severus harm, she hated to think what might have happened to him. Merlin, he deserved better.

Hagrid gave her a searching look. "Professor? I can't help noticin' you don't seem half as angry at the headmaster as you've been till now."

Minerva bowed her head. "Yes. I have since discovered that Severus remained a spy for the light until the end. Albus—Severus killed him to spare that meddling fool pain and on his orders. He never betrayed us."

Hagrid nodded firmly. "It's like Headmaster Dumbledore always said, innit? He said ter trust Severus, and so I did. The Headmaster sent those kids ter me as much as he could, you know. Wouldn't be surprised if he Confunded the Carrows ter get away with it. Brilliant man, he is—was." Hagrid wiped fat tears away and blew his nose again. "It's a bloody shame."

Minerva's cheeks burned. She had imagined herself Hagrid's intellectual superior all this time. She had supposed the half-giant couldn't see past his blind loyalty to the facts, but Hagrid had had the right of it all along.

Merlin, she had been such a blind fool.

Hagrid sniffled. "I'm off to look for more survivors. If I find the Headmaster, I'll bring him home, ma'am."

Minerva laid her hand on his wrist. "Thank you, Hagrid. I—"

A piercing cry brought her whipping around.

"Professor! Professor McGonagall!" Hermione Granger came running, hair whirling about her tear-streaked face. Ginny and Ron Weasley ran after her, their eyes wide and rimmed in red.

"Miss Granger? What in Merlin's na—"

"It's Harry, ma'am!"

Minerva's heart sputtered. "Harry? What has happened?" Could he have revived somehow? He had survived the killing curse once, and no one knew how long he might have been unconscious afterwards, after all. Mad as it was, she couldn't help but hope.

"He's g-gone!" Tears choked Hermione's words. "There was a sound like music, then—"

Ron interjected, breathless, "A giant flash of light and a surge of magic, just like in the battle, and then—"

"Harry just vanished," Ginny said. "He was—and we were crying, and then—"

"He just disappeared," Hermione said, "and I can't even trace his magic. I-I don't know what to do. Who could have—and why? They already—" Her voice broke up. "What more could they do to hurt him now?"

"Vanished?" Minerva stared, gobsmacked. "But how?"

"That's what we're asking you, ma'am," Ron said with a sniffle. "He's gone, and we d-don't know why, and—" His words choked off, and he covered a sob in his hands. "Please."

Minerva let her breath out in a rush. "I…." Merlin. Harry and Severus, both vanished without a trace and stuck in the same portrait? And Albus….

She turned her eyes towards the headmaster's tower, and a tiny spark of hope glowed in her heart. Could Albus be right? Maybe there was something strange about all this.

Was it possible that they weren't dead?

In case her hopes had no basis in reality—and she had little enough to justify them, to be sure—she said nothing. It would damage them irrevocably to believe and find their prayers nothing but a vain fancy. Instead, she vowed to question Albus in private as soon as circumstances allowed.

"I am afraid I do not know what might have happened to cause this, children, but rest assured I will find out. In the meantime, go and be with your family, and remember that Harry was more than his body."

Merlin, he was. He had always been larger than life—and yet, so small against the unforgiving burden of fate.

"But—"

Hermione silenced Ron's protest with a hand against his chest. "T-thank you, ma'am. If—if you find him…?"

"I will most assuredly let you know."

Hermione thanked her again and led her friends away, all three with slumped shoulders and broken hearts. Minerva watched them go and clutched her chest. Oh, Circe, she prayed she had reason to believe.

"Strange, that." Hagrid sniffled and wiped his eyes. "Both Harry and the headmaster missin'. Can't see as to how anyone with a grudge could get to Harry in the Infirmary's private ward, and Severus—didn't no one know what happened to 'im until you told me, ma'am. How could they both go missin' like that?"

How indeed.

Minerva steeled her shoulders and turned towards the tower. "I don't know as of yet, Rubeus, but I intend to find out."

Hagrid nodded. "I'll keep an eye out for Harry, too." He gave another great sob and walked away.

She blinked hard and started towards the headmaster's office—her office now, at least until she was sure of Severus' status.

'Oh, boys, I do hope you might still have a chance to live, somehow.'

The answers had to exist somewhere. She wouldn't rest until she found them. It was the least she could do for two men who had sacrificed their lives to save them all.

Harry woke from nightmares of the battle to the muffled sound of low whimpers. "Ron?" He rubbed tears and a cold sweat from his face and dragged himself out of his sleeping bag. Only it was a proper bed, not a sleeping bag, and he wasn't in a tent in the forest. He staggered across the cramped bedroom and struggled to piece together his jumbled memories through the fog of a restless night.

"Hey, mate, it's all right." He rubbed Ron's hair—ten months on the run had taught all three friends the value of platonic affection—but instead of Ron's shock of thick, ruddy waves, his fingers traced silky, gossamer strands, much too long for Ron and much too fine and straight for Hermione.

"Who…?"

Realisation struck him like a hammer to the chest. Damn. He was dead, forever torn from his friends, and trapped in Snape's portrait. So this was the headmaster's bed. He had just run his fingers through Snape's hair.

"O-oh." Harry hesitated. If they were going to be stuck together, he'd better get used to taking care of Snape, too, as there would never be anyone else.

"Shh. I'm here. You're—you're not in pain anymore."

He tentatively stroked the man's hair—god, it whispered like silk under his fingers. His own coarse mop didn't compare.

Snape gasped and grabbed Harry wrist. In an instant, the man had his hand in Harry's face, and Harry knew damn well how dangerous he could be, wand or no wand.

"Who the hell are you?"

"E-easy, sir. It's just me."

"Potter? What in Merlin's name? Oh." Snape rubbed his face and released Harry's hand. "Forgive me, Harry. In the future, it is best to wake me and identify yourself before you touch me."

Harry nodded and rubbed his wrist. "Sorry, sir. You were having nightmares. I only meant to help you calm down."

Snape shuddered. "I had imagined the nightmares would end with my death. It appears, even in this, I am not to be so fortunate."

Harry gave a bitter snort. "Yeah. Me neither."

Snape sighed and motioned him closer. "Come and sit. Talk to me, if you feel safe enough. What did you dream of?"

Harry's eyes burned. "The battle," he whispered. "Walking to my own death. Remus and Tonks lying dead. Fred dying right in front of me—and in front of his brothers. Crabbe dying in the Room. And—and y-you."

Snape tugged him to rest against his side. "Vincent is dead?"

"Y-yeah. He tried to curse us with fiendfyre. It—it ate him instead."

"Merlin. Foolish boy. There is a reason few people are mad enough to dare utter that curse." Snape sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I failed so many of my house."

Harry leaned into his touch. "You saved as many as you could. If it means anything, I think Malfoy learned a bit of sense tonight. A small bit."

Snape snorted. "You truly have worked miracles if you managed to teach that spoiled prince to see beyond the end of his nose."

"Well, it points forwards, you see, so he's just got to follow the tip of it."

Snape gave a soft chuckle. "So he does."

Harry stared at Snape's face, just visible in the moonlight.

"What?"

"I-I've never heard you laugh. It's…."

Snape turned his face away, as if preparing for a blow.

"It's nice."

"Nice?" Snape turned back, lips curved up slightly. "Your capacity for forgiveness truly knows no bounds."

"Not really. I still bloody well hate Malfoy."

Snape laughed again. "Then I shall count myself fortunate after all."

Harry dropped his gaze and stared at the blankets. "You weren't. Your whole life—Merlin. It's been nothing but pain."

Snape rubbed Harry's hair. "Not every moment."

Harry gave him an incredulous look. "I made you miserable."

"No. You defied your detractors and rose above impossible odds. Even if fate turned against us both in the end, I was happy to watch you become a man." His voice wavered. "And, though I wish with everything in me that you, at least, had survived, if we must die, I am glad you are with me.

Harry buried a sniffle in Snape's shoulder. "Sir, could I—if it's not too weird—can I stay here tonight? I don't want to be alone."

Snape stroked Harry's hair. "Sleep here if you are comfortable. The roles of our past no longer apply."

"T-thanks, sir."

Snape was quiet for a moment. "Severus."

"Hm?" Harry lifted his head.

"Call me Severus. I am neither your professor nor your headmaster any longer, and our current situation precludes such formality."

Harry gave him a wan smile. "Severus? Yeah, I can do that."

Severus rubbed Harry's back. "Go to sleep, if you are able."

Harry frowned. "You're not going to…?"

"I will help you sleep first."

"Oh." Harry swallowed back a rush of powerful emotion and gave Severus a wan smile. "I-I'd like that, I think."

Severus melded their beds into one and patted Harry's pillow. "Lie down."

Harry curled up on his side, facing Severus. He snuggled closer to the man's leg and closed his eyes at the gentle touch of skilled fingers across his scalp.

"Rest, and let my voice soothe your dreams. Listen and be at peace."

Within five minutes, Harry fell into the deepest sleep he had known since Voldemort's resurrection.

Severus watched the boy dream and padded on feet silent as a cat's to the edge of his prison. "Albus?" He kept his voice low so as not to wake the boy. "Albus."

The old man woke with a snort. "Hm? Who? Oh, Severus. Are you quite all right?"

Severus glanced to his sleeping companion. "Albus, do portraits dream?"

Albus blinked. "Dream? Can't say that I recall any. At least, nothing more than silly fancies. Why do you ask?"

Severus watched Harry sigh and mutter something indistinguishable. "Morbid curiosity."

Albus pierced him with those too-intelligent blue eyes. "Curious indeed."

With a slight scowl, Severus turned away and back towards his companion. "Goodnight, Albus." He returned to his bed and lay beside the boy, leaving a respectful distance. "Goodnight, Harry. Sleep well." Severus added mentally, 'This time.'

For several days, Harry had little desire to stick his head out of the safety and comfort Severus' undying home offered. The books held no words, and the other portraits tended to sleep unless someone needed them, but he didn't mind such a quiet existence as long as grief crushed him. When the pressure began to lift, however, and he could think past the desperate void in his chest, he longed for the peace nature had always brought his soul.

"Merlin, I wish we could go for a walk."

Severus nodded at his companion, but the trepidation in his face made Harry wonder what he had said wrong.

"Severus?"

"It isn't safe for me, Harry," Severus murmured, "but perhaps I can make an exit for you."

His eyes had gone flat and his expression blank. Harry hadn't seen him Occlude that hard since before the battle.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Harry laid a gentle hand at Severus' wrist. "You're blocking me out. Why?"

Severus looked away. "It is of little consequence." He lifted his hand and cast at the back wall, but nothing happened. A frown crossed his features. A second cast again made no difference. A third, this time with clear power behind it and a spoken incantation, again, had no result.

"Damn." Severus sank against the wall, panting. "I—I do not think I can alter these walls."

Harry's heart sank and his gut dropped. "Y-you mean we're trapped here? In this empty prison—forever?"

Severus covered his face. "Perhaps I am in need of rest. Or perhaps a custom spell…."

Harry watched him walk to his desk and scribble in one of the many empty books. His quill trembled.

Harry sighed and rubbed Severus' tense, shaking shoulders. "Can you talk to me? You're scared, I can tell. And I know it's not just that we're trapped here, because you were before your spells failed."

Severus' hand clenched around his quill, and the nib broke and blotted the parchment. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and Harry ached to soothe him. He thought of all the long hours Severus had spent holding him while he released his grief and wanted to offer him the same comfort now.

Softly, Harry brushed his fingertips through Severus' hair. The man breathed in sharply, and Harry paused.

"Er, no good?"

Severus gave him a searching look. "No one has ever touched me in that manner. It only surprised me."

"What? Never? Not even Mum?"

"I did not invite touch at that age, Harry. I was a broken child, scarred by abuse and poverty and far too prideful. Your mother did not often touch me beyond brushes of hands or the rare hug."

"Oh." Harry hesitated, then tucked Severus' hair behind his ear. The man flushed a little and closed his eyes.

"Thank you."

Harry frowned. "For what?"

"This time with you. For giving me a chance to redeem myself, at least in your eyes, before…."

Harry's throat tightened. "Before what?"

"Before… you move on."

Harry's breath hitched. "You—you think I'm leaving you, or I will if we ever get out of this place. That's why you're scared."

Severus looked away and said nothing, but he didn't need to. Harry shook his head and brought him into a tight embrace.

"No. I never meant to leave you alone. I wanted you to come with me."

"I cannot, Harry. There is no safe place—"

"I know of a few. I don't know if they're still standing or if we can access them from here, but I wanted to try. I never wanted to go without you, though." He sighed and stood straight again. "I wish we could go flying together. No one would be able to see us from the air. I don't have a broom now though, and I don't know of any paintings that would work for flying."

Severus looked up, a pensive expression on his face. "Flying…. I may know of a place to go, but it will do no good until we work out how to leave."

"Well, let's work on it then. If I'm going to be here with you forever, we could put all these empty books to use, yeah? You could teach me spellcraft, and maybe we could find the way out together."

Severus gave him a hint of a smile. "I suppose we can try."

Harry squeezed Severus' shoulder. "There you go." He settled in beside Severus. "It'll give us both something new to think about, yeah?"

Severus took Harry's hand briefly. "Thank you."

Since the expression in the man's eyes revealed relief and hope, this time, Harry accepted his thanks and summoned one of the books, the only wandless spell he had down so far other than a Lumos. He scrawled Spellcraft Journal on the front and wrote his name underneath. "Right. Now that's done, where do we start?"

"By teaching you magical theory."

Harry grimaced. "Good luck. You're going to need it."

Severus chuckled. "You may find it more interesting than you suspect. Now, mark the date and the lesson number, and we shall begin."

Though theory had distracted the boy well enough from his cabin fever, and having a highly motivating goal to work towards had increased the boy's attention span and focus, Severus knew it was only a stopgap. Before long, this windowless room with no entertainment other than that found within their own minds would soon drive them both as barmy as Albus.

Speaking of….

Severus glanced to the boy's sleeping form and silenced the area around the bed—only one now, as neither slept well alone.

"Albus?"

After a moment, the old man jolted awake with a snort. "What? Oh, Severus. You never seem to sleep."

"I did not take much repose in life either. It is hardly surprising that I should continue the habit now."

"Ah, actually, it is, rather. You've noticed we all tend to snooze away unless there is a living witch or wizard present?"

"Wixen, old man. How many times must I tell you that not every magical person aligns to one of the common genders."

"Oh, probably forever. If I didn't remember in life, it's very doubtful I'll retain the information now." He fixed Severus with a seeking look. "You, my friend, are quite the enigma even in portrait form, as is your young ward."

"Hm. As you said before, if I retained the habit in life, why should it change now? And it is for my ward's sake that I woke you. Harry is becoming quite restless here and would like a walk elsewhere. After hours, I assume, as I do not think he is quite ready to face the others yet."

"A walk? Well, nothing is stopping him. Tell him to visit for a game of chess if he likes."

Severus glared. "Do you truly suppose I would bother to ask permission if it were so easy? We are sealed into this prison, and neither of us is able to create a pathway to the outside world. Or, at least, what portion of the world is accessible to portraits."

"Sealed in?" Albus frowned and peered into his portrait. "I see nothing but books."

"Because that is all there is. Walls of bookshelves on all sides but this one." Severus glanced behind Albus. "You have a door."

"Yes, we all do. All but you. How curious."

Severus glared. "You seem to find a great deal of our situation curious. I imagine you will find our swiftly impending insanity quite intriguing with such a laissez-faire approach to our predicament."

Albus stroked his beard. "Not at all, Severus. To lose a mind as brilliant as yours would be quite the blow, and Harry—no, I should most assuredly find nothing of his descent into madness entertaining."

"Then what do you propose we do? I am, by nature, far more retiring than Harry, and am not as troubled by my prison, especially with magic at my disposal, but even with Harry's long experience of imprisonment and my natural tendency towards reserve, we shall both lose our minds before long with nothing to break the monotony of our existence but each other."

"Indeed." Albus frowned and rubbed his beard. As Severus had long-since learned to associate the action with deep thought, he kept his peace. "Your portrait, my boy, is quite odd. That Harry should find his way into your current quarters at all is a mystery, given there was never a portrait of him on the Hogwarts grounds. Then there are the plans I set in motion to protect your life to consider, and the rites Harry performed over himself and all of the remaining Light allies the night of the battle. No, I think nothing about this situation is straightforward, and, perhaps, the answer to both the first and last point comes down to the bond and the ritual ties built between you upon the final night. Harry attempted to save your life, yes?"

Severus gazed upon his sleeping charge. "And failed, but there was little he could have done. Not even Poppy could have saved me. I only regret that my death has scarred him in a way I fear nothing will heal."

"Your presence seems to have gone a long way towards that end." Albus tugged his beard and paced. "The bonds between Harry and yourself run deep. It is for that reason I think Harry found his way to you when he emerged in the portrait world. Your bonds, I think, created the environment around you for two, not one, and so, I believe you will only be able to alter it in any significant manner working in tandem."

"In tandem?" Severus stared at the boy and swallowed hard. "Albus, there is a world of difference between the bond of a protector and ward and the level of bond you are implying."

Albus gave him a smile with too much knowledge. "Did Lily ever have occasion to send you a patronus message before her death? I only received one or two, mostly to do with her family's safety after the prophecy forced them into hiding, but I was quite proud of how lovely hers was. James', too. Well, his was quite surprising, given his animagus form. Of course, I was unaware of his alternate identity then, but—"

"Albus. Do get to the point."

"Ah, yes. What I meant to say, my boy, is that their patronuses made for quite the lovely pair of foxes. Lily's vixen was particularly striking."

Severus stilled, his heart in his throat. "A-Albus, are you honestly implying…?"

"Well, they say certain bonds exist beyond death. Of course, it might only be coincidence." The old man yawned. "Oh, pardon me. It is getting rather late."

"Albus! Don't you da—" The portrait was already snoring. "You conniving bastard."

Severus sighed and moved back to the bed. He couldn't bring himself to lie beside Harry again, not with these strange thoughts pinging about his skull. Bonds and souls and ties beyond death—could it be true? Severus caressed Harry's short hair and watched the flickers of dark dreams fade into peaceful repose once more. It might indeed be coincidence, and yet, even the cynical Severus had to admit it seemed more and more unlikely by the day.

He withdrew his hand and took a shuddering breath. No. He couldn't make this decision, nor would he push Harry into it. If the boy came to him, it would be on his own will and in his own time. Severus would not turn him away—to do so in such a situation would only harm them both, possibly on a level too deep to ever repair—but neither would he lead the boy in either direction until Harry indicated he desired a deeper bond with his protector.

That was, if he ever chose such an ill-fated path.

Either way, Severus would not abandon him.

He brushed his palm against Harry's cheek. "Whatever fate has in store for us, whatever path you choose, I will guard you always."

Harry turned into his touch and whispered Severus' name, and Severus moved away so as not to wake him. Instead, he summoned an empty book, scribed Severus Snape, Personal Journal on the cover, and set a conjured candle to provide just enough light to write by.

It is now the sixth day of my life after death, and Albus has just suggested something so surreal, so incredible and unbelievable to me, I cannot help but write of it now, as I have no other confidant but the one person who must not learn of the situation until he is ready….

Minerva covered a gasp and pressed herself further into the silence of her new quarters. By gods. She had only meant to relieve herself and check on her lost boys. That she had overheard much of Albus' theorising along the way to the loo came as an honest accident, but of the happy variety, and it was about bloody time, too. She had never thought to rejoice in the strange foibles of her aging body until now.

The idea that Harry's image had come to reside with Severus despite all known laws of wizarding portraiture lent her hopes to restore them more credibility. As Phineas Nigellus had pointed out, portraits were, in all cases but Harry and Severus', nothing more than paint and spells. They did not have cores. They did not grow, age, or develop. They exemplified the image and personality of the subject at the time of their portrayal and inherited the memories of their host upon activation. They could even learn and retain new memories, but they did not have the capacity to cast spells. They did not retain the bonds of their subjects, and they certainly didn't have the capacity to develop new bonds.

If Albus' theories played out, the mere fact that Harry had come to Severus due to existing bonds between them implied there was more to their portrait than simple paint and spells. And if they were more than paint, spells, and magic, then maybe she had fair reason to believe.

'Oh, boys. I hope with all I am that he is right, and not only because you both deserve happiness.' She pressed her hand to her heart and took a shaky breath. 'I promise you, I will not stop until I find the answer. Hold on, boys. Hold on to hope and, if Albus has the right of things, to each other. If it is at all possible, I swear I will bring you home.'

She carried on to the loo, resolve bright and warm in her heart.

Harry woke and stretched, surprised not to feel Severus curled up beside him. For all that the man gave off an aura of hard strength during the day, at night, he always ended up cuddled on Harry's chest. The warmth of his body and the silky caress of his hair draping all over Harry's shoulder soothed him, and he missed the closeness their fate had brought about. He rubbed his chest where Severus usually slept and dragged himself into a seated position.

"Severus?"

"I am right here, Harry."

Harry turned to find Severus in a chair beside the bed, dark circles under his eyes and pallor marking his already fair complexion. "Oh. Couldn't you sleep?"

Severus shook his head. "I had much to consider and found my mind too occupied to rest."

Harry nodded and scooted closer. "Yeah. I understand that." He yawned and rested his head against Severus' shoulder. "I'm surprised I slept as well as I did then. I don't usually rest at all unless you're with me."

Severus' cheeks flushed. He stared at his hands and swallowed a few times before he spoke. "Nor do I. It is surprising to me that you have accepted me so easily."

"The real you is easy to accept." Harry snuggled a little closer. "I guess it is a little weird though. I lived with Ro—" He choked on the name and shuddered. "I-I mean, I wasn't used to touch before this year. When we were in hiding, there was no one else, so I had to learn or go mad, but…." His voice wavered. "God, I miss them."

Severus brought him into his arms. "I am sure they miss you as well. Perhaps it would ease the pain a little to speak to them."

Harry grimaced. "I think it's just going to hurt more."

"At first, yes, but in time, I think you will grow more accustomed to the situation and find your ability to speak to them a relief."

"I-I don't want to hurt them."

Severus simply held him. Harry appreciated his silent comfort. The man knew full well Harry's friends were already hurt, but he wouldn't pile more pain and guilt onto Harry by mentioning it. Harry pressed his head under Severus' chin, the way Severus ended up every morning, and Severus rested his cheek atop Harry's hair.

"Whatever you decide, Harry, I will be here to support you."

Harry held the man's slender waist and buried a few miserable tears in his throat. "What—what do you think I should do?"

"It is your choice. If you are not prepared to face them, I will continue caring for you until you are. If you think you are ready, I will stand by you in whatever manner you wish." Severus hesitated. "But, if you would like my advice, I think it unwise to wait much longer. The more you delay, the more difficult you will find facing any fear."

"Y-yeah. Yeah, you're right. I know you are. I'm just—it's going to really hurt. No matter how I do this, it's going to tear me to bits."

Severus smoothed Harry's hair. "Yes, but I will not leave you to endure alone."

Harry hugged him tight. "Thanks. I'd probably have gone barmy the first night without you."

Severus didn't reply in words, but the way his arms tightened around Harry communicated how much the younger man's presence had meant to him anyway.

"A-all right. I'm bloody well terrified, but you're right that this is only going to get worse the longer I put it off. I—I'll meet them today, if they can come."

Severus dropped a light kiss atop Harry's hair. "Well done."

Harry prayed the man was right and braced himself for pain.

Minerva gathered Harry's three nearest and dearest in the corridor outside the headmaster's tower and struggled to find words. She could give them no hope—it would destroy them if she had the wrong idea about her boys, and even if she was right, it mightn't go over well, not now—but she found that a damn near insurmountable challenge with three teary, heartbroken teenagers staring at her, pleading for the very hope she could not allow herself to reveal. Still, for Severus and Harry's sake, for the grieving youths she bled for, she would do it anyway. Merlin knew Harry and Severus had faced impossible tasks and never shirked their duty.

"I have news of Harry, but I must warn you before I take you to him."

Granger sobbed and covered her mouth. "Oh no. No. The Death Eaters, they—they… hurt him? His b-body?"

Minerva squeezed her shoulder. "No, no, Miss Granger. Do forgive me. I have seen neither hide nor hair of his body." And she didn't expect to either, not if her boys were truly trapped in that portrait. "It is his… persona of which I speak. Harry has, somehow, manifested into one of the headmasters' portraits, but—"

"Harry!"

Minerva cast a lightning-fast barrier to stop her desperate students before they could wreak havoc unawares.

"Be still! As I said before, I must warn you first. He is neither where nor what you will expect to find, and if you act rashly, you will damage him. If you cannot comport yourselves with patience and understanding, I cannot allow you to see him, both for Harry's sake and that of the other portraits."

"W-we wouldn't hurt Headmaster Dumbledore," Ron said, voice raw and broken.

"That is the problem, Mister Weasley. He is not in Albus' portrait. He is with Headmaster Snape."

The youths gave such a violent outcry, Minerva had no choice but to silence them to be heard.

"Now, be still and listen, or I will block access to my office to everyone but approved members of the staff until I am convinced you three can control yourselves enough to be trusted with either Harry or Severus' safety."

Ginny scowled and shouted something.

"I will remove the charm if you speak to me in a respectful tone of voice."

Ginny huffed and gave her a terse nod.

"Very well." Minerva lifted the charm, and all three teenagers spoke at once.

Hermione said, "Is Harry safe?"

"You can't leave him with that monster," Ron cried. "He'll hurt him!"

"And why should we care if Snape is safe?" Ginny's voice might have frozen stone. "He didn't exactly concern himself too much with any of us!"

Minerva sighed. "I thought much the same when I first discovered Severus' portrait, but I was wrong, as are all of you. Severus has been so gentle and caring with Harry I hardly recognise him, and that, children, is his true nature—the truth he could never reveal as a spy working right under You-Know-Who's nose."

"What? You've gone barmy!"

Ginny backed her brother's outcry with, "Snape was a traitor!"

Hermione, however, had always been one of the few lions blessed with a Ravenclaw sense of rationality.

"Oh god. The battle—right before Riddle attacked, Harry said—he said…."

Ginny turned to her, her confusion obvious. "Said what?"

Ron gasped. "Snape—Harry said he was Dumbledore's man all along."

Minerva nodded. "And so he was."

"Merlin's bollocks," Ron said, voice weak and shaky.

"Mister Weasley! Language."

"Er, s-sorry, ma'am."

"But…." Ginny looked between them and hugged her waist. "I-I don't understand."

"That is what I brought you here to speak about," said Minerva. "Will you listen now?"

The teenagers shared a few uncertain looks and nodded.

"Thank Merlin."

Harry clung to Severus' hand and stared at his friends from his eternal prison. They were so close. If he could only cross over to them, he could hug them, could wipe their tears, reassure his former lover that they still had a future, but a wall of glass separated them, and Harry had no ability to break through. All he could do was watch and listen, and the distance left a void bigger than the whole of Britain in his chest.

"Oh, Harry!"

Hermione pressed her face and hands to the window and wept, and Harry wished he could hold her. He laid his hands over hers and pressed their foreheads together, but he felt only the glass. Ron nudged in beside her, his hands above his girlfriend's, and Ginny squeezed in under them all, pressing her entire body to the portrait, but still, Harry felt nothing. The warmth of Ginny's embrace and the smell of her flowery perfume, the touch of Hermione's fluffy cloud of curls and the softness of her hands, the strength in Ron's hugs and the way his bigger, taller form swallowed Harry's in brotherly affection—he had lost it all.

Tears ran unchecked down his face. Oh, god. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. He should be there, with them. He shouldn't have died. He shouldn't have—

Gentle, strong hands stroked Harry's hair and rubbed his shoulders. A soft whisper brushed his mind. [I am here. You are not alone.]

Alone. If Harry had lived, Severus would have no one to hold him together. If Harry hadn't died, Severus' soul, image, mind—whatever he was—he would have had to spend an eternity in this room full of empty books and loneliness with no one but McGonagall and narcoleptic former heads of Hogwarts to keep him company.

No. Harry wouldn't wish that fate on his worst enemy.

The knowledge of his purpose here didn't comfort Harry, precisely, but it did make his cruel fate a little easier to accept. No, it wasn't fair, but if being here kept Severus sane, he could live with it. Figuratively, at least.

He reached back and guided Severus' arms around his waist. The man's breath hitched and his entire form trembled, but the whisper of silky hair spilling over Harry's neck and shoulder reassured him that Severus was willing, if nervous. The warm line of Severus' lithe body all along his back eased something tight and broken within him, and Harry let his companion's embrace soothe the worst of his pain.

God. What would he do without Severus to keep him from flying apart? Harry didn't want to think of it.

Severus watched Harry talk to his friends and offered what comfort he could without intruding. Eventually, Ronald and Hermione said all they had to say—at least for the moment—and left Ginevra alone with Harry. Severus turned away, unwilling to watch Harry bid his lover goodbye. Awkward situations aside, it hurt, far more than it should, to think of Harry with anyone else.

Merlin help him, Severus had put too much stock into Albus' mad fancies already.

He had to pull himself together. They had no proof it wasn't mere coincidence, and, either way, Severus had promised himself he would not guide Harry into his arms. If Harry chose him, he would do so of his free will. Even if Severus began to fear that resolution might prove a difficult one to keep.

"Um, Professor?" Ginevra gave him a look somewhere between pity and disgust. "Would you mind giving Harry and I a moment?"

Severus suppressed a flinch. "If I could, I would do, but this portrait has no exit. I cannot leave."

"So Harry is your cellmate." Her tone left no doubt she thought it a fate worse than an eternity in the Dark Lord's torture chambers.

"Ginny." Harry gave her a sharp look. "Severus doesn't deserve this any more than I do."

She scowled at Severus, but, perhaps in effort to appease her lover, she returned her attention to Harry instead. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Sorry for him, rather. Severus closed his eyes and wished he could tune her words out as well. Strong Occlumency would, at least, help keep his emotions under control.

"I-I am too, Gin. I know you wanted—but I can't now. I didn't mean to—I don't understand what happened. I thought…."

Ginevra sniffled. "We don't know either. The spell didn't even hit you—then you were dead, and now…."

"Now, what? Did something else happen?"

Ginevra looked away. "No, nothing you need to worry about at any rate."

Severus eyed her from behind a screen of his hair. Hm. Her posture and expression revealed unnecessary tension. So something else had gone wrong then. Merlin.

Ginevra gave Harry a wobbly smile. "We'll handle things this side now." Her voice broke. "You—you've done too much."

"Y-yeah." Harry lowered his head. "I reckon we both did. Or all of us, rather."

Ginevra's expression tightened, but she did not comment on her clear disagreement. "I don't know how I'm supposed to live without you, Harry. I don't—I never wanted anyone else, and now…."

Harry laid his hand against the glass. "If I could…."

"I know." Tears thickened her tone. "I don't know what to do."

"Live, Gin. Live. Go play for the Harpies like you always wanted. Find something that makes you happy. Find someone who does, too. Maybe have some kids, a house in the country, and a big wedding—though not necessarily in that order. Molly might hunt me down if she thinks I put the idea in your head."

Ginevra gave a tearful snort. "That she would. It's like she thinks none of us have ever heard of contraception. For Merlin's sake, I had six brothers. Trust me, I know the value of a damn good birth control charm."

Even Severus had to admit he appreciated her blunt sense of humour. She frowned a little at his expression, and he supposed he hadn't Occluded as well as he had thought.

Harry gave a sad laugh. "Definitely."

Ginny put her hand over Harry's. "There will never be anyone else for me, Harry. You—you were everything I ever wanted."

"There will be, Gin. Maybe not today, maybe not this year. It'll take you time to heal, I reckon, but one day, some bloke will come into your life and knock your socks off. Or, hell, who knows, maybe one of your teammates will get you playing for the other team one day. You never know."

"Please don't tell me you've imagined that."

Harry chuckled. "That's definitely more up Ron's alley than mine. I never had time to think of much beyond surviving the next day, and now…." He looked down, and his voice broke. "Those few months with you were—were the only time I was ever really happy, and I'll never forget them. You were the only experience of love I ever knew besides Ron and Hermione, until the very end." He reached back with his free hand, and Severus squeezed his fingers briefly.

Ginevra shot Severus a suspicious look. He would have liked to explain, but now wasn't the time. Still, he held her gaze with unflinching courage. She turned away, perhaps unwilling to waste the last few moments with her lover locked in a battle with Severus.

He wouldn't have fought her. No. He was bloody well tired of conflict. He had spent his entire thirty-eight years embroiled in war and intrigue, and now, he wanted nothing more than peace. As much as this strange almost-limbo offered, at any rate.

Harry moved his hand as if to brush her tears away. "Ginny, don't blame Severus. He had a role to play, and I know he hurt you all, but he gave everything of himself, down to his life, to keep you safe and to protect me."

Ginevra shot back in a broken tone, "Then why are you here? Why are you dead?" She sobbed and covered her face. "Why?"

"I don't know, Gin, but neither does Severus, and it isn't his fault anyway. Riddle killed us both." He pressed his hand against her cheek, or as close as he could reach. "Don't blame him. It would only hurt you both, and no one ever loved me more than the two of you."

"H-how can you say that? He—"

"He died for me, Ginny. He lived and died for me. Every moment, every thought, every breath—he had to guard it all to keep me safe as long as he could, and he did. This isn't his fault, and I don't want you to take it out on him. I understand you have trauma of your own to overcome, and I'll let you work that out in your own time, but don't blame him for me. No one ever gave more for me than he did."

Severus dropped his head into his hands to hide a rush of tears. Dear gods. He had grown so accustomed to being hated, this kind of love left him raw and shaken down to his soul. His heart cracked and healed at once, and he could barely breathe at the beautiful, painful relief of it. A quiet gasp shuddered past his lips, and Harry's words trailed off.

"Severus…." Gentle fingers stroked Severus' hair, and a warm hand lifted his chin. "Shh. Don't cry. I meant every word."

Severus clutched Harry's hand and met the boy's verdant gaze. Tears blurred and softened the face of this dear man, rendering him beautiful beyond all others. Jaded and broken as Severus' tired heart was, at that moment, he might have lit the room with the glow of pure, effervescent emotion inside him.

If he hadn't already suspected his devotion to Harry may have run deeper than he had ever believed possible—at least until a certain interfering old bastard had put ideas in his head—he would have known then.

He swallowed against a fluttery, giddy sensation and gave him a tentative nod. "I know. It is why…." He dropped his gaze. "I do not wish to intrude upon your time with your lover, Harry. Forgive me my loss of control. I will be well." He flinched. "As well as a dead man can be, at any rate."

Harry squeezed his shoulder. "You sure you're okay?"

"I have caused you enough trouble. Go and speak to her while you are able."

Harry tucked Severus' hair behind his ear and rubbed his tears away, and Severus barely resisted the urge to kiss his palm. With a deep breath to steady his wild emotions, he Occluded hard and waved Harry on.

"All right, Severus. Thanks." Harry patted his shoulder once more and returned to his former girlfriend. "See what I mean, Ginny? He's not what you think. Not at all."

Ginevra said nothing for a long moment. "I guess I do see, but I don't want to—we have so little time."

Harry nodded and pressed his hands to hers. "Yeah. I'm here now, all right. A-as close as I can be."

Ginevra's tears started anew, and Severus mourned for her pain. He had only just begun on this new path with Harry, and already he feared to lose the man would break him beyond all hope of repair. How much more must it hurt her, when she had loved him her entire life? In her place, Severus knew he wouldn't have handled the situation with half as much grace.

To give them what privacy he could, Severus delved through his memories of Harry and the boy's mother. With his focus directed inward, their quiet conversation did not register. His exhaustion aided his efforts, and soon, all noise beyond his own breathing faded to a hum in the back of his mind.

With a kiss pressed to the glass, Harry bid his only true lover goodbye. As the door shut behind her, his resolve shattered, and he sank to his knees in grief. He had expected Severus to scoop him into his arms as he had done for Harry every time his pain overcame him, but no one came, and the man's absence left a void.

His gut clenched. Had Severus found a way to leave? Oh god. Was Harry meant to endure this hell alone? Merlin help him, he would be mad before the end of the week.

He turned, chest cold and heavy and pulse frantic, but his fears melted at the sight of his companion. Severus sat in the armchair by the desk, head lolling on his shoulder and hair half covering his face. The silky black strands fluttered with his breath.

Harry's chest warmed, and soft affection chased away his grief. Merlin, the poor man was exhausted. With a soft sigh, Harry wiped his face and gathered his wits. Severus had done so much to help him, but this time, Severus needed Harry.

The boy forced his mind onto one purpose: creating a bed for them. "Come on. I can do this."

Though it took several tries, eventually, Harry managed to conjure a usable mattress—nothing like Severus' work, of course, but it would do well enough.

"Thank Merlin." Perhaps his wandless magic only needed the proper motivation to work. At least he could offer Severus something now for the constant love and patience the man had given Harry since death had burned their masks away.

"About damn time."

With a sigh, Harry eased his hands under Severus' knees and shoulders. Severus grumbled and batted feebly at his chest.

"Shh. I'm just putting you to bed."

Harry lifted the man, unsure whether to be shocked at how little he weighed or by the fact that a painting had substance at all. With a shrug, he carried the man to the mattress and laid him down. Severus jolted and gasped.

"Harry?"

"I'm here. Go back to sleep, Sev'rus."

Severus rubbed his face. "Ginevra?"

"She's gone home."

Harry closed his eyes at a surge of pain that he couldn't go with her. The Burrow, too, was lost to him now. Everything he had ever known was gone or forever altered, even Harry himself.

He squeezed back another round of tears and crawled into bed beside Severus. The man curled into him the moment Harry was settled, and Harry took comfort from the solid weight of Severus' head against his chest.

"I'm glad you're here," Harry whispered.

It was better than being dead alone.

After the Weasleys and Hermione left, Minerva wanted to rush straight to the portrait and take care of them both, but she thought better of it. Harry took more comfort from Severus than anyone else, and Minerva could no longer offer the understanding and compassion her one-time friend could. Still, she worried for them, too, and so she decided checking in on them couldn't hurt. Even if they needed more time, simply showing concern might offer some little surcease, small comfort as it was.

When she stepped into her office, however, Harry and Severus weren't in sight. Merlin. They hadn't left their painting once since the battle. Well, perhaps Harry had simply needed fresh air… in a manner of speaking, anyway.

That suited her purposes well enough. Her other purposes, at any rate. She had waited for days to catch Severus and Harry sleeping so she might speak to Albus alone, but, unlike the other portraits, they rarely showed any sign of fatigue.

Another indication, perhaps, that more than simple paint and spells powered their existence. Merlin, it made her hope.

"Albus?"

The old man snorted and dragged himself awake. "What? Oh, Minerva. You look as though you've come with a purpose, my friend."

"Indeed, I have." Minerva glanced to the empty canvas across the wall. "Albus, what do you know of Harry and Severus' situation?"

Albus hesitated. "Is it wise to speak of this here?"

"They are out and about, Albus."

Albus stroked his beard. "I had not thought Severus had spoken to Harry yet about the unusual requirements to leave their portrait."

"Unusual requirements?"

Albus looked to the painting. "I think, my friend, it is far more likely, given the events of last night and this morning, that you will find our boys are simply asleep rather than out and about."

"But…." She stared at the empty canvas, flummoxed.

"Severus has always valued his privacy. Harry, too, is a bit too guarded for his own good."

Minerva didn't understand, but given the old man's infuriating tendency to be right, even in the most absurd situations, she decided a silencing ward couldn't hurt.

"Very well. Now, what do you know, Albus? And your usual tendency towards privacy will aid no one at this late hour, so do not hold back."

Albus leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "Minerva, have you ever heard the legends of paired patronus forms and eternal bonds?"

Minerva swallowed hard. "I… have not."

"The legends are quite obscure. No one without good reason to research ancient rites and magics would know of them, I think. At any rate, long ago, when magic was still so unusual as to be almost unheard of, on the rare occasion that two compatible, magical souls met, fell in love, and decided to bond, well, let us say they desired a rite with far more staying and protective power than modern bondings. They wished to preserve the continuation of our heritage, you understand, so rather than the lifelong bonds modern wizards choose, they leaned towards rites that lasted beyond death and even…." His eyes flickered to Severus' portrait. "Reincarnation."

Minerva breathed in sharply. "Oh dear gods. You believe Severus and Harry…?"

"Well, at this point, it is only one possibility. Magic is not nearly so rare as it once was, and so, the simple presence of a pair of patronus forms no longer carries the certain implication of eternally-bonded souls." He gazed at the empty frame and smiled. "But, I must admit, the other signs surrounding our boys are… encouraging."

Minerva pulled the headmaster's chair around and settled in. "Tell me everything you know."

Albus nodded and began his tale.

Minerva sank into her favourite armchair, grateful for the support its plush cushions offered her trembling limbs. Severus and Harry, bonded soulmates? Two weeks prior, the idea would have horrified her. To think that the lifeforce of one mate could be tied into the other's, when both stood at opposite sides of the war? Merlin forbid.

Now it gave her hope, as well as the vast web of other bonds and protections fate—and Albus-Bloody-Dumbledore—had woven around them both. The ties between the two ran so deep, a lack of a soulmate bond would surprise her more than the alternative.

And so, in the privacy of her personal suite, she summoned every book on ancient bonding rites, portrait arts, and soul magic the headmaster's library had on offer. Perhaps she had no definite answers to give her boys yet, but so help her, she would find them. She owed it to them both.

Severus woke ensconced in a warm embrace and with a steady thump in his ear. Harry's heartbeat. How strange that a painting should have one, but then, much of this world was strange. The sound might have come as a comfort if he hadn't known it to be false. As it was, the rhythmic pulse only reminded him of his failures.

He sat and rubbed his face. How long had he slept? As with the other portraits, had someone in need of his assistance woken him this time? As Harry slept on, Severus found the idea unlikely.

He dragged himself to the window just in case, but though Minerva had come since Ginevra left, she paid him no heed. He watched her scribble at the headmaster's desk for a moment, but nothing indicated what she might be working on, and he couldn't read it from his position. He considered casting a spying charm, a holdover from a life lived on the edge of a sword, but no. Minerva had the right to her privacy, and the concerns of the living no longer had any bearing on him.

Albus gave him a wink as Severus turned away, and Severus rolled his eyes. Barmy old fool. Even in death, the old man lived to annoy him. The absence of Albus' usual laughter in reply confused him, and Severus looked back to see, but not hear, the evidence of said reaction.

A silencing charm? Odd.

"Severus?"

Harry's worried call brought Severus out of his thoughts. "I am here." He returned to the mattress and nudged the makeshift bed with his foot. "Your wandless magic is coming along."

Harry gave him a wan smile. "Y-yeah. Reckon I'll pass my NEWTs?"

Severus flinched.

"Sorry, Severus. Guess I'm just feeling a bit bitter."

Severus sat beside him and ran gentle fingers through Harry's hair. "You are troubled from the meeting with your former lover and friends. Forgive me that I was unable to help you afterwards."

Harry rested his head on Severus' shoulder. "No. I think maybe I've been leaning on you too hard. You must be in pain, too."

Severus said nothing for a long moment. "I learned early on to expect nothing less. I am, ironically, much happier in death than I ever was in life, save those regrets I can do nothing to alter." He traced his thumb over Harry's scar. "Lean on me as much as you need to. Your trust is a comfort, though I, too, wish the need for it did not exist."

Harry sighed. "I don't want to mourn anymore, at least not all the time. I need to do… something active. Anything other than write and study and cry on you."

Severus glanced to the bed. "If you have managed to make your wandless magic work this far, perhaps it is possible to make a way out."

Harry grimaced. "Severus, you're five times the wizard I am, if not more. If you can't get us out of here, how in Merlin's name do you imagine I can?"

Severus shook his head. "Alone, I do not, but Albus suggested we may have better luck if we attempt it in tandem."

Harry's eyes widened. "Of course! Since we're in the portrait together, it makes sense that it would take both of us to alter it."

Severus said nothing of Albus' theories. For all he knew, the boy might be right. 

"Perhaps. Either way, it will harm nothing to try. If we fail, we are no worse off than before."

"Except we lose another hope of escape."

Severus hesitated. "If the link between our cores takes hold and the spell does not work, then it is likely that we are only in need of practice."

"Link?"

"Yes. In order to do tandem magic, two casters must link their cores and minds at the deepest level and work with a single purpose."

Harry gulped. "Like Legilimency?"

"No. This is much deeper."

Harry cringed and crossed his arms over his chest. "We, uh, didn't have much luck with that in life."

Severus nodded. "And it may be that we are unable to achieve such a link now. I do not know. It is a slim hope, I grant you, but I know of no other way."

Harry steeled his posture. "Well, like you said, what can it hurt? If we try and it fails, then we haven't lost anything, right?"

On the contrary, Severus would lose much more than the hope of a walk beyond their shared prison. 

"Are you willing then?"

Harry nodded. "Just, you won't hurt me this time, right?"

"I did not wish to hurt you before."

Harry took Severus' hand. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Sorry. Legilimency makes me leery, I think, and not only because of our lessons."

"As I said, this is not Legilimency. This is closer to soul magic than mind magic."

Harry winced. "I-if it goes wrong?"

"It will do no harm to our souls. We are simply attempting to establish a link, not delving into the dark arts or using aggressive Legilimency against one another. If we are unable to link, the most that will occur is we will feel a jolt. It is unpleasant, but neither painful nor damaging." If one or both of them had soul bonds to someone else, the bond would shock them as a warning. "More likely, we will feel nothing at all." If they had neither an existing bond nor compatible souls.

"If it works?"

"I have never experienced it personally, but…." Severus' cheeks burned. "If it works, then you will feel me in every part of your being as long as the link is active. You may always feel a tie to me from this moment on, whether we are consciously linked or not, if the communion goes deep enough, though not to the level we will feel when it is active."

Harry gave him a sad smile. "That wouldn't be so bad. At least I would never be alone."

Severus swallowed hard. "Yes. I feel much the same."

"Maybe it'll work then. We both want it to, so that has to say something, right?"

Severus slipped his other hand into Harry's. "I hope so." Merlin, he did. "Now. I want you to clear your mind as we have practiced. Focus only on me, the sound of my breathing, my voice, my life. Seek out the core of my being through our linked hands." 

Harry closed his eyes, and his face tensed with the effort he put forth. "I feel something. It's… warm."

Severus' heart pattered. "That—that is a good sign. I will try to reach you as well now. Open yourself to me, and do not fight my presence."

Harry nodded and squeezed his hands. Severus clung to the comforting warmth of his touch and fought back the well of hope and dread inside him. He had spoken the truth when he said life had taught him well to expect pain at every turn. The possibility that something so beautiful, so wholly pure could exist for him left him shaking. Every Slytherin understood the way of the world from a young age, and Severus earlier than most. For every moment of joy, fate expected equal or greater suffering in return. Quid pro quo.

"Severus? Are you… scared?"

Severus nodded, unable to put words to his fears.

"Hey, whatever happens, good or bad, we'll face it together, okay? You won't be in this alone."

Severus took a shuddering breath. "That is what I am afraid of. I have no desire to heap further pain upon your head."

Harry rubbed his thumbs across Severus' knuckles. "You don't. You won't. It'll be okay."

"Look around you, Harry. The world expects a price for every joy." Severus dropped his voice to a whisper. "I don't know if I am able to pay the toll the joy of having a true link to your soul would bring, and neither do I wish to see you suffer further."

"If that's your view, don't you think life owes us a little happiness?"

Severus frowned and swallowed hard. "What—what do you mean?"

"You said it yourself. Life expects a price paid for joy. But you haven't had much joy, have you?"

Severus shook his head, mute in the wake of the hope Harry's words offered.

"Yeah. Me neither. Every small happiness I ever found cost me three times that in suffering, at least, and now I don't even have the hope of a future to balance out the pain. So yeah, if the way of the world is equal suffering for equal joy, then, bloody hell, is life ever in debt to us."

Severus clung to Harry's hands. "That is a point I have never considered."

Harry smiled a little. "Yeah. I'm not a total Gryffindor dunderhead."

Severus closed his eyes and held Harry's hands against his heart. "You were never a dunderhead."

"Bollocks. I've done plenty of stupid things. Sticking my head in your Pensieve without permission comes to mind, for example, or doubting you all these years when I knew from first year you would risk your life for mine. This, though—this isn't stupid. Not at all. So, will you give it a try?"

Severus breathed in Harry's scent and steeled his courage. "Yes." He would do almost anything for Harry. Merlin knew he owed it to the boy.

And that, perhaps, was more important than what debts fate might or might not owe him.

Severus squeezed Harry's hands and focused upon the essence of the man before him. Bravery, loyalty, honour, rashness, sass, sorrow, and a love deep enough to change the world. Potter's bravado and Lily's gentle heart, and a unique way of approaching the world all his own. Severus' caution and hard-won forethought would temper him, and Harry's fire and passion would give Severus back that spark he had lost decades before, but only if Severus tried. Only if he reached beyond his fears and took a chance. For all it terrified him, the reward was worth any risk.

"Reach for me now, Harry."

Harry squeezed his hands. "Yeah. Can you feel me, too?"

Trembling and raw, Severus sent his magic forwards through his hands in search of Harry's soul.

And light and warmth burst inside him, so bright and warm, it left him breathless. Harry gasped, too, and swayed forwards into Severus.

"Oh. Oh, I…."

"Yes." Words failed to describe the sensation. Two halves, split apart for aeons and now, they were whole again.

Harry's thoughts echoed in Severus' mind. [What does this mean?]

Severus whispered back, [Our souls are….]

[Linked?]

[As far as it is possible to be.]

They were absolutely soulmates.

"Bloody hell, this is brilliant, Severus!" Harry beamed and helped Severus to his feet. "Come on. Let's try the wall now. Maybe we can make a door."

Severus nodded and laced his fingers with Harry's. It was a natural touch, one they had shared a thousand times before. He had only forgotten in the trappings of this life. Harry reacted with little more than a gentle squeeze of his mate's hand and a sweep of his thumb across Severus' fingers.

"Right. So how do we do this?"

"Think of a door to the lake. There is a painting of the area in the dungeons, and I think it would do us some good."

"Perfect."

Severus focused on the same goal and waited for Harry's younger magic and untrained mind to catch up. Perhaps because of the echo between them, Severus did not wait long before Harry's readiness communicated itself to him through a flicker of heat in his palms, a thread of light in his chest.

"Now, let us…." Severus guided their joined hands to the shelf just ahead. "The spell is Aperportus."

Harry nodded. "On three?"

Severus allowed him to count and performed the incantation at the same moment Harry did.

And a window to the lake appeared.

"A window? Did it fail?"

Severus shook his head and created a table and chairs for them. "That we altered the environment at all is promising. We only need more practice."

Harry grinned and sat at the table. "Then let's see if we can at least open that and let some fresh air in while we work."

"Yes." Severus used a spell to open the window. It only budged a few inches, but the scent of a spring day the breeze brought in was enough to refresh their spirits a bit.

"Oh, lovely," Harry said with a sigh. "Merlin, I miss being out in the sun."

Severus frowned at the window. "It is pleasant…."

Harry gave him a curious look. "But?"

"I could have sworn the lake painting was of an autumn landscape."

Harry peered out the window, over grass painted pink and white with fallen tree blossoms and the last daffodils of the season. "This looks more like late spring."

"Yes." Severus shook his head. "No matter. Come. Let us sit here and practise our tandem casting. Perhaps by the end of the evening, we might manage a proper door."

Harry grinned and returned to his seat. "Right. Ready?"

Severus nodded and began the lesson.

They hadn't managed a door that night, but the window had shifted into a balcony. That was good enough for Harry, at least for now. As soon as they had the door open, he grabbed Severus' hand and led him outside, grinning as he hadn't been able to in months.

"Oh, Merlin, this is brilliant. If only I could fly, it would be perfect."

Severus hesitated. "There is, perhaps, a way."

Harry gave him a curious look. "Not sure I'd trust a conjured broom."

"No. Neither would I do, but—" Severus' cheeks tinged pink. "If you trust me…?" He offered Harry his hands, and Harry gasped.

"Oh!" Of course. Severus didn't need a broom to fly.

Harry gave the landscape a wary look. "Not sure we should test this so far just yet. The land mightn't stretch as far as it seems to."

Severus let his hands fall to his side. "True." He conjured a two-seater swing and a blanket instead. "At least we might enjoy the moonrise then."

Harry smiled a bit and curled up on the swing next to him. He wasn't sure when Severus had wrapped his arm around Harry or when Harry had rested his head on Severus' shoulder, but it felt natural, like he belonged there.

Merlin, what an odd thought. Severus would turn him inside out if he—

Severus sighed and tugged Harry closer, and Harry's worries vanished. If Severus didn't want this, he would let Harry know. Forcefully. No sense in making an issue of it if Severus was content.

Harry snuggled into his friend's side, draped the blanket over Severus' chest, and watched the stars shine.

By the time the students returned for the next year, Severus and Harry had made a doorway to the lake and another to the forest. They hadn't been able to join the other paintings, but the only one they had any interest in was Albus, and they only needed to return to their 'study' to see him.

Severus had watched the daffodils give way to roses and asters, and Hagrid's giant sunflowers had just grown high enough to turn the eastern lakeside horizon golden. They spent much of their days swimming in the lake to escape the heat or cataloguing ingredients in the forest. Severus would have liked to collect them, but with nowhere to store them, they would only go to waste. Who knew if painted ingredients had any substance anyway.

Still, collecting them and experimenting with the flora would give Severus something to do other than write in his journal or continue Harry's education. Perhaps they might try to expand their study into a proper house next. They had no need for food or bathing as paintings, but a bedroom and lab would not go amiss. Harry might like a place to sit by the fire, too. Come to think of it, a living room would give them both a more inviting place to continue their journals and studies.

"Harry?"

The boy looked up from where he lounged beside the lake, his golden skin turned tawny from a summer spent mostly outdoors. Even Severus had picked up a bit of colour, though his fair skin tended to burn more than tan. Thank Merlin for sunblock charms.

"Yeah, Sev? You okay?"

Severus waded out of the water and wrung out his hair, grown past his shoulders now. He couldn't explain how their hair grew here when every other portrait was static, but he wouldn't complain. Harry liked Severus' hair, and the extra weight and length had begun to tame Harry's mop. Severus had thought him lovely even with his wild curls, but this longer style lent him an air of maturity. That, and it looked nothing like James Potter's infernal bird's nest—always a plus in Severus' book.

"Yes. I simply wanted to ask your help. I would like to attempt to build a lab area onto our study, and—" Severus closed his mouth at a sudden chill through Harry's side of their soul link. "Harry? What about that frightens you?"

Harry winced. "I guess it's just…." He tugged his knees to his chest and lowered his head. "Well, we've been getting on so well. If you start brewing again—I'm rubbish in potions, and I don't know if you want me to help or…." He let his breath out in a shuddering sigh. "I just don't want to disappoint you. I don't want you to be angry with me because I'm pants at brewing."

Severus cast a drying charm over himself and settled beside Harry. "Do you know I had no choice but to grade the Gryffindors a full letter below the marks they earned? Even Granger. Had I treated you fairly, I would have come under harsh scrutiny—too harsh to keep my true loyalties secret. I had to be even harder on you. I never marked your work above a letter grade and a half below what you deserved."

Harry tensed. "But I passed potions. And if you had marked my work that low, then—"

"Yes. Your potions, while not perfect, showed a great deal of promise, when Draco didn't ruin them and you attended the labs. You have done exceedingly well in your theory lessons since I began tutoring you here as well. I had only intended to use the lab to store ingredients and test their properties, assuming the flora here is more than paint and magic, but if you would like to assist me, I would be glad of your help."

Harry's lips curved upwards a little. "Really?"

"Yes. I trust you to assist me if you choose to do so, and, either way, I am proud of how far you've come."

Harry grabbed Severus into a tight hug, and Severus gasped at the warmth of lithe muscle and sun-warmed skin against his own. His palms skimmed Harry's back and trembled at his waist. Gods, how Severus wanted to pull the man into his lap and kiss him breathless, to explore that youthful body and taste every inch of him—but no. Merlin, he had to control himself. He had sworn not to lead Harry into his arms, and the boy wasn't ready anyway. He hadn't entirely healed from Ginevra's loss.

No. Severus wouldn't touch him beyond this. Not until Harry asked him to.

Despite his resolve, he couldn't stop himself from pressing a light kiss to the boy's soft curls. Harry returned it with a peck to Severus' cheek.

It took everything Severus had not to turn his head and meet him with a kiss of his own.

Harry pulled back and smiled, a true smile such as Severus hadn't seen since before the end of the boy's sixth year. The sight stole the breath right out of Severus' lungs.

'Beautiful.'

"Thanks, Sev." Harry stood and pulled Severus to his feet. "Conjured phials and such won't last. Should we try to make them?"

Severus gave him a curious look. "Make phials without magic? How?"

"We can make glass. We can blow it into the shapes we need." Harry ruffled his hair and smiled wryly. "Well, it'll probably take a while to learn the process and get the shapes right, but I reckon we have plenty of time to learn."

Severus cocked his head. "Conjured phials will last for approximately six months. Do you suppose we could make suitable phials by that time?"

"They might be a bit wonky still, but I reckon we can make them good enough to hold a cork and keep ingredients fresh, if we can find all the things we need to blow glass and make a room to fire and cool it."

"Will beach sand do?"

"I'm not an expert, Sev. I've only seen it done once, but I reckon beach sand will work as well as any other kind as long as it's clean."

"Then I believe I know of a painting that will suit our purposes." Severus held out his hand. "Ready?"

Harry took his hand and readied his mind and magic. A few moments later, they had a portal of sorts to a private beach in Spain. The waves sparkled in the sunlight, and the sand shone almost white against the brilliant blue Atlantic.

"Oh, Merlin. I've never seen the sea."

Severus stroked Harry's knuckles. "Perhaps we will simply enjoy the day here then and bring the sand back when we leave."

Harry's smile outshone the sun. "Yeah. That sounds lovely, Sev." With a grin, he ran towards the sea. "Last one to the water is a dunderhead!"

Severus laughed and raced after him. He could have flown to the water, of course, but watching Harry sprint for the waves and laugh like a child was victory enough.

'Beautiful indeed.'

Severus waded in after him and swam beside his companion. Perhaps they had found their way into some sort of heaven after all.

Minerva pored over her latest text on soul magic when a knock sounded at the gargoyle. "Who is it, Essie?"

A wrinkled woman with kind green eyes and a veil under her witch's hat flitted out of her portrait and reappeared a moment later. "It's the Weasley girl and young Harry's friends, Headmistress."

Minerva flinched. Merlin help her. She should have anticipated this meeting sooner, but between the funerals, castle repairs, preparing for Severus' hearing to clear his name, readying the castle for the new year, and researching soul magic, she hadn't a thought to spare.

Damn. Nothing for it. She unlocked the passage and opened the door.

"Enter."

Hermione and Ron came in holding hands, both wan and pale. Ginny walked behind them, her face the picture of quiet suffering. Gods. How Minerva wished she might give them hope, but no. Besides the fact that she had no proof as of yet that her boys still lived, she knew full well by now where Severus' heart lay. She couldn't bring herself to break the only joy he had ever experienced, nor could she break Ginny with false hope. Even if Harry could be revived somehow, his soul had long since bonded to another.

No. She could reveal nothing to these three, much as their obvious pain hurt her.

"Welcome, Mister and Miss Weasley, Miss Granger. I assume you have come to speak to Harry?"

Hermione's eyes flicked to the book on Minerva's desk and back up to the headmistress's face. "Ah, if it's not too much of an interruption, ma'am."

Minerva shook her head. "I would not hinder you, but I'm afraid you'll need to return in…." She glanced to the clock. "Perhaps an hour or so. Harry and Severus are out, and will be until after nightfall, most likely. They tend to stay out and about during the daylight hours."

"Out?" Ginny frowned at the empty frame. "Snape told us their portrait didn't have an exit."

"Headmaster or Professor Snape, Miss Weasley. And their portrait did not have an exit at first, but one has… come into existence since then."

Hermione stared at the portrait with a bemused expression. "Come into existence? How? I didn't think portraits—"

A peal of boyish laughter interrupted her and spared Minerva an awkward explanation or two. 'They're home early tonight.'

"I can't wait to try this." Harry walked into view, dressed in only a pair of sandy swim shorts and carrying a rustic bucket against his chest. A heavy bucket, judging by the way he leaned back to balance its weight. "Where do you want this, Sev?"

Severus stepped into view with a bucket of his own. He wore a pale blue pair of swim shorts and a white tee, both streaked with sand. He had tied his long hair in a low ponytail and donned a pair of sunglasses. Merlin. Minerva had never seen him in such an informal state of dress. And in colours other than black.

Harry had done wonders for him already.

"Hm. By the desks, I think." Severus set his bucket down and relieved Harry of his, too. "Yes, that will do."

"Looks good to me," said Harry. "Let's move our journals into the desk though, just in case." He picked up a pair of books from the shelf near the buckets and stashed one in each drawer. "Okay, that's done. Now, all that's left is to—"

"H-Harry?"

Ginny's shocked call brought the boy up short.

"Gin? Oh. 'Mione and Ron, too." His smile faded into a grimace of grief. "Merlin, I've missed you."

"So have we, mate," said Ron with a frown. "You're looking better than I thought you'd be, though, given you're trapped with…." He glanced to Severus. "Well. You know."

Severus crossed his arms over his stomach and turned away. A faint tremor shook his shoulders.

"Sev…." Harry wrapped his arm around Severus' waist and rubbed the man's shoulder. "Hey. It's okay. I'm here, all right?"

Severus gave a terse nod, and Harry turned back to his friends, still rubbing gentle circles over Severus' shoulder. "I'm not trapped anywhere, Ron. Sev has been taking damn good care of me."

Ron's jaw dropped. "But—you said you were trapped in there a few weeks ago, and—"

"I said we were trapped. Severus and I. I'm glad he's with me, though I wish we were neither one in the condition we are."

"But…."

Severus' shoulders slumped. "Harry, I will return to the beach and gather more sand."

"You're sure? You don't have to leave."

"I…." Severus glanced over his shoulder and shot a pleading look at Harry.

"You're uncomfortable." Harry kissed Severus' cheek. "Okay. Whatever you need. I'll come to you when we're done here."

Severus nodded and moved to the door, but it vanished the instant he touched it. "Oh. What? Why?"

Harry moved to his side and frowned. "We had to be together to—do you suppose we can't…?"

Severus glanced to the empty wall and his companion. "We have never attempted to separate since the door—perhaps you are right."

Ginny took a step back and stifled a little gasp. Hermione gave her a heartsick look.

"H-Harry?" Ginny's soft call went unheard.

"There has to be a reason, Sev." Harry shook his head. "Maybe if you put your hand here with mine, like we did the first time?"

Severus placed his palm upon the door. Harry laid his hand over his companion's and laced their fingers together.

Another soft gasp from the girl filled Minerva with sympathy. So she knew. Everyone soon would do besides Harry himself, Minerva supposed.

A flash of golden light shimmered in the portrait. Everyone in the room froze, but Harry's voice through the afterimages relieved the trauma of everyone who had witnessed him die.

"That's done it. So we can't separate then."

"Apparently not," Severus said with a shudder. "I…."

"It's not your fault. Just… maybe work on your journal if you can?"

Severus nodded and went to his desk. Harry stepped between the man and his friends to give him some semblance of privacy.

"Right. Now he's okay, let's get one thing straight here. I wouldn't be sane without Severus. He's been my rock throughout this whole affair, and I won't have you lot hurting him. Are we clear?"

Hermione wrapped her arm around Ginny's trembling shoulders. "Crystal." Ginny opened her mouth, expression twisted with hurt and anger, but Hermione spoke before the younger girl could retort. "He's the one you have to lean on now. We can't be with you anymore, much as we might wish to. So Headmaster Snape is your—your family now."

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah. I reckon so."

Ginny slumped and pressed her hand to her face.

"Harry," Hermione said with a sad smile, "I think we'll just come back some other time. We're making Headmaster Snape uncomfortable, and, well, it looks as though you two were busy."

Harry flushed. "Oh, yeah, we're trying to make glass. So Sev can have phials and such, you know? I don't know how well it'll work, but it ought to be fun anyway."

"Glass?" Hermione blinked. "Can portraits do that?"

Harry gave a wry chuckle. "I guess we're going to find out."

"Be careful, with the fire and all."

"Yeah, we will."

Hermione bid them all goodnight and led a shell-shocked Ron and dismal Ginny out of the office. Minerva watched them go with a sorrowful expression. Even if her suspicions about Harry and Severus proved to be nothing more than the hopeful fancy of two old fools, to encourage the girl's suit would only end in disaster. Nevertheless, she didn't enjoy watching her heart break.

'Move on, Ginny. There is nothing here for you.'

Minerva made a mental note to encourage the girl in that endeavour later and turned to her boys. Harry had untied Severus' hair and had his fingers buried in his raven tresses. Severus leaned into his touch, eyes closed and cheeks faintly pink. She couldn't hear the soft words Harry whispered to his companion, but by the way the tension leaked out of Severus' shoulders, she gathered it must have comforted the man.

Minerva gave them a minute before she spoke, unwilling to interrupt until Harry's care had restored the shy smile Severus sported most days.

"Did I hear you say you're making glass?"

Harry stopped sorting through Severus' hair long enough to give her a curious look. "Yes, ma'am. Only this seems to be such an odd portrait, so we were wondering if we could make phials and keep the ingredients we find for Sev."

"For you as well." Severus' voice came out slightly slurred from Harry's attentions. "I did promise to train you."

Harry smiled and tied Severus' hair for him again. "I reckon we'll have time to train all sorts of things, if you want."

"Mm. Yes, that does sound lovely." Severus stood and kissed Harry's forehead. "Thank you. I am well now."

Harry smiled up at him. "Good." He squeezed Severus' hand and turned back to Minerva, the older man's palm cradled in his own. "Why did you ask about the glass, ma'am? Do you know how? All I know is it takes sand and fire."

"I do know, actually. My father made glass ornaments and such for a living, and I learned much from him, as well as many of my Muggle relatives, over the years. I'll be glad to pass on what I know, and not only because I am curious to see if it works as well."

Harry beamed. "Brilliant. Thank you, ma'am. So, what's the first step then?"

"Well, to begin with, you'll need a good deal more than sand and fire…."

Hermione sat with her two dearest friends and struggled to find words. Ginny stared at the wall, silent tears streaming down her face, and Ron—Ron had gone blank. Quiet. Hermione hadn't seen him like this since Fred's funeral.

"He's really gone." Ron's voice came out flat. "He's not just—that's not our friend in there, Hermione. He's not—I don't know. It's all gone."

Hermione opened her mouth and shut it again. What wisdom could she offer now?

"I've really lost him," Ginny said, voice raw. "I thought we could carry on, after a fashion, but he's already moved on."

Hermione sighed. "Ginny, think about it from his point of view. You and I have had family near us, and we were all grieving together. While we were missing our brothers and lover with all those who loved him, too, Harry has had no one to lean on but Headmaster Snape. No one to talk to, no one to be with. Headmaster Snape has probably held him through his grief and taken care of him after nightmares." She paused. "Well, if portraits have nightmares. Anyway, what I'm saying is that while we've been mourning the past, Headmaster Snape and Harry have had no other choice but to learn to accept their situation. They've been all each other has in the world."

She took a shaky breath. "And if we expect to keep him near at all, we have to learn to accept the situation, too. Ginny, you can't have a relationship with him now, and it isn't fair to either of you to expect it. Ron, you need to accept that, like it or not, Snape is Harry's family now. He's closer to him than either of us, and they've lived through things we can't relate to. If you keep treating Snape like a curse, Harry will distance himself to protect his family, just as you would do if Harry treated me like rubbish."

Ron sniffled. "It's not the same. You're my girlfriend. Snape…."

Ginny winced and looked away.

"Ron." Hermione kept her tone gentle. "Ron. Harry is closer to Snape now than he ever was to us. I don't think they realise it yet, but…." She gave him a sad smile. "It's exactly the same."

Ron gaped. "What? What do you—oh." His eyes darted to Ginny, and a red flush coloured his cheeks. His fists clenched and his nostrils flared.

"That—"

"Stop." Hermione held Ron's wrist. "Stop before you do something stupid and lose him forever. Harry can't have a future with anyone but Snape now. You heard them—they can't separate. Do you really want your sister pining after a dead man who is trapped in a portrait with someone else?"

Ron flinched. "I—no."

"Then sit down. You can't attack Harry for this. If they can love each other, well, it might make their situation more bearable. And Ginny—no. You deserve better than the lonely life you had planned out."

Ginny covered her face. "But… if I can't be with him, then where does that leave me? I've loved him my entire life. I-I don't know who I am without him."

Hermione took her hand. "You won't be alone while you work it out."

Ginny clung to her fingers. "T-thanks. Maybe, let's just go for a walk before curfew. I need some fresh air."

"All right." Hermione stood and led her friend and lover away. Much as it hurt, she hoped this would be the first step to a new future for all of them.

Making glass, as it turned out, involved much more than sand and heat. Severus spent weeks helping Harry build a proper kiln and refining their materials, and then several months perfecting the process of getting their glass smooth and clear. From there, it took more time to learn to blow and shape the glass into proper receptacles. By the time they finished a shelf of usable phials, jars, and vases, the winter had come and gone and Hagrid's pumpkin vines had just dropped their first blooms.

Severus stood in front of the finished shelf, watching the phials glint in the light of the setting sun with a true smile. Merlin, he hadn't imagined work as an artisan could fill him with such pride, but knowing that all the glassware before him had come from his own hands made him glow as much as any success with a cauldron.

"We did it." Harry beamed up at him, all pride and happiness and accomplishment, and Severus' breath stilled. The light of the setting sun haloed Harry's features in pink and vermilion and turned his eyes golden. With his hair tied back and his cheeks flushed from the heat of the kiln, with the strength a year of physical labour had lent his slim frame, dear gods, he was beautiful.

Harry's smile melted. "Sev?"

Severus couldn't resist caressing Harry's sun-kissed cheek, couldn't stop himself coming closer. "I am proud of you."

Harry beamed and hugged him tighter. "I'm proud of you, too. I'm proud of us both. Look what we did!" He waved at their handiwork. "No other portrait has ever done this. And I don't know many living people who can do it either."

Severus surveyed their work with a smile. "Indeed. They are lovely."

"Let's bring some back to show Minerva and Dumbledore. Maybe we can fill them up along the way."

Severus nodded and conjured a harvesting basket for Harry and himself. "We shall make use of those daisies we found, yes?"

"In healing potions? Sounds like a good place to start."

By the time they returned, the moon had risen and the frogs at the lake had begun their nightly chorus.

Harry ran into their study, basket in one hand and Severus' fingers clasped in the other. "Minerva, look! We—" He froze and choked off his words, and Severus realised the woman standing in front of the headmistress' desk wasn't Minerva. With her hair in a bun and a long robe on, Hermione Granger looked startlingly like a younger version of the Headmistress.

"'Mione?" Harry gave her a cautious smile. "Don't you look all grown up." A flicker of grief crossed his face. Severus rubbed his thumb along Harry's palm, offering what comfort he could.

"I suppose I should do, don't you think?" Hermione smiled back, and the honest joy and love in her expression eased the tension from Harry's frame. "Professor McGon—ah, Minerva just asked me to take over for Professor Slughorn." She gave Severus an apologetic look. "I know I'm not—well, there are few with talent like yours, sir, but I hope I'll do well enough."

Severus smiled a little. "Ward the classroom, and I do mean every inch. Thoroughly. And always be prepared to rescue some hapless dunderhead from themselves. As for the rest, it is simple enough to study the recipe and adverse reactions prior to class. You are welcome to use my lesson plans, if you wish. I believe Minerva kept them safe, along with my research journals. You may study those as well. It will help you if you wish to pursue a mastery."

Hermione gasped. "You would—oh, sir. I—Merlin. Thank you. I didn't expect—"

"They do me no good any longer, though, if you will, please ask if Minerva will attempt to transfer the text into some of these books for us. I intend to train Harry, now that we have working phials and ingredients."

Hermione blinked several times. "Of course I'll ask, but wouldn't you prefer to keep your notes separate from your books?"

"These books are all blank, save the ones Harry and I keep in our lab and personal study. So transferring text into them will give us something new to read rather than overwrite our existing library."

"Blank?" Albus peered over and rubbed his beard. "How—"

"Curious," Severus said, deadpan. "Yes. We know."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, sure do." He gave his friend a bright grin. "Well done, 'Mione. I bet there's not an E to be seen on your NEWTs at all, is there?"

Hermione flushed. "Ah, no."

"That's our Hermione. Send Malfoy running for his money, did you?"

Hermione grimaced. "Malfoy… doesn't have nearly the same opportunities now that he did before the war. We kept him out of Azkaban, but…."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Reckon there's only so much you could do given he took that mark willingly and never sacrificed to help us like Sev did."

"True." Hermione smiled again. "But for Severus, I have better news." She pulled a box from her pocket. "It took a while given we had to go through all the… um—the active trials first, but we finally…." She blushed and held the box up so the men could see. "It's, well, a little late, but you deserve this, sir." She flipped the box open, revealing a golden medal on black velvet.

Severus' breath hitched. His trembling fingers pressed against the glass, as if he might feel the engraving under his skin if he could only reach far enough.

"First class…." Severus looked up, heart full and broken by turns. An Order of Merlin. After all this time, someone thought him worthy. He only wished he had lived long enough to see it on the other side.

"Thank you." His voice came out rough.

"Sev…." Harry's arms embraced Severus from behind, and his head came down to rest on Severus' shoulder. "You're a hero."

Severus swallowed hard. "I failed you."

"No." Soft lips brushed Severus' cheek. "You're my hero."

Severus couldn't help turning towards that soft touch, couldn't resist covering Harry's hands with his own. "I could not save you."

"You gave everything for me." Harry whispered against his ear, "It's enough. You're enough."

Severus' belly swooped and his skin tingled. "Harry…." His voice came out low and breathless, and a hot flush spread up his face.

"Yeah." Harry hugged Severus closer and rested against his shoulder. "'S all right now."

Severus held Harry's hands close to his heart and leaned into his embrace. "Yes." 'As long as you are with me.'

Hermione gave them a soft smile. "I'm glad to see you two getting on so well. We all worried for a bit, but it looks as though you're quite happy now." An expression of sorrow crossed her face, but it faded the next instant. "Ah, what were you so excited about when you came in?"

Harry looked up and grinned. "Oh, we wanted to show Minerva our glass. We finally made it just right." He held up a phial of fresh daisy roots for Hermione. "Looks just like the store-bought ones, yeah? It holds spells really well now, too. And the ones we've been practicing with all year are still holding, so we think it will last at least that long."

"That's incredible!" She stepped close and peered at their handmade phials from every angle. "Merlin, that's beautiful work, Harry, Headmaster. However did you learn?"

"Minerva taught us, actually," said Severus. "She is half-blood, and her Muggle side of the family had many glassmakers."

"Oh, brilliant. Was the process different at all in a portrait?"

Harry glanced at Severus and shrugged. "Not really. Once we made doorways to all the places we needed to go for ingredients and built our kiln, it was exactly the same. Well, at least we think so."

"Fascinating." Hermione frowned at the phials. "I wouldn't have thought—but I'm ever so glad it worked." Her smile warmed the room. "Well done, both of you."

Harry beamed. "Thanks! If you see the old tabby, send her our way, yeah? Oh, and if we're not in and you need us, just knock on the frame. We've worked out charms so we can hear it wherever we are."

"Oh. Of course."

Severus caught a flicker of something… odd in her expression, but then Harry kissed his cheek in a gesture of shared affection and joy, and everything but the softness of his touch fled Severus' mind.

"Well, I'll just go and find Minerva now," said Hermione with a half smile. "I'll ask her about transferring your research and texts, too, Headmaster."

Severus inclined his head. "Please call me Severus. I am no one's headmaster any longer."

"Thank you, Severus. Do call me Hermione then." She bid them farewell and left Harry alone with Severus.

Harry gave Severus a bright grin. "Well, do you want to start putting these roots to use?"

Severus nodded and followed Harry to the lab.

Hermione tracked Minerva down and found her organising her former classroom for the new instructor. "Minerva?"

The woman looked up from her former desk and settled her pince-nez on her nose. "Ah, Hermione. Are you settling into your new quarters well?"

"They're quite lovely, thank you." Hermione shut the door and went to the desk. "But I need a word, if you have time."

Minerva waved a chair into existence, and Hermione folded into it with a murmur of thanks.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

Hermione took an unsteady breath and struggled to gain control of her wildly beating heart. "It's—well, I just came from your office, and Harry and Severus came in while I was waiting." She clutched the arms of her chair. "Minerva, what on earth is going on? First Harry disappears, then he ends up with Severus, and now they're making glass and pathways to any painting they wish?"

Minerva straightened her papers and laid them aside. "Not any painting. They cannot link to any portraits with sentient beings."

"More to the point. None of this should be possible, and yet, here we are."

Minerva sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I should have known you would put the pieces together eventually."

"So there is something going on."

"Yes." Minerva straightened and gave Hermione a stern look. "Before I tell you anything, I want your word that you will keep this between us, and that does include your paramour and future family, as well as Harry and Severus themselves. To tell them before we are certain could be devastating to all involved."

Hermione swallowed hard. "You have my word."

"Very well. Then, tell me, Hermione, what do you know of soulmate bonds?"

Hermione walked along the lake shore in a daze. Harry and Severus might still be alive somehow, but trapped in portrait form. So many factors had come together in support of Minerva's theory—the unexplained disappearance of both Harry and Severus' bodies, the strange traits of their portrait and its subjects, the clear bond between Harry and Severus—and yet, as of that moment, it was only a theory. They had no hard facts and too many unexplained variables, and moving too soon might just break both men.

Merlin. What did all of this mean? Could there be a way to restore her friend and his mate to life somehow? Did she dare to hope?

Hermione gathered her courage and turned towards the castle. She hadn't any answers yet, no, but she had a good idea where to find them.

'Hold on, Harry. If there's a way to help you, I swear I'll find it. For your bondmate's sake, too.'

She headed for the professors' library and summoned a stack of books on every related subject she could think of. Soon, she would find the way to set them free.

Severus had always enjoyed the artistic side of cataloguing potions experiments and plants, and Harry had encouraged him to pursue it. While Harry continued with his glassmaking and education and they both worked on a new cottage on the beachfront, Severus had spent the school year developing his skill with a paintbrush and watercolours. He liked to paint Harry the best, though Harry had never caught him at it. Severus kept those paintings tucked away in his personal journals where Harry wouldn't see for fear the boy would understand too much.

Instead, Severus decorated their home with landscapes—peaceful, beautiful scenes they could hang upon their walls and take comfort from whenever they wished. Harry loved them and encouraged Severus to further his skills often. Having such a supportive companion had done wonders for Severus' psyche. He hoped he had helped Harry heal, too. The boy smiled and laughed more, at least, so Severus must have done some good for him.

Their 'quarters' here, isolated as they were, had become home, and Severus found he loved this life-after-death. For all he regretted failing to save Harry, he couldn't regret spending his afterlife in this private utopia with the man he loved. If only Harry loved him, too, his joy would be complete. Still, he was content here, and that was enough, for now.

At the end of the school year, Hermione came to Minerva's office and flopped into her chair with a sigh. "Merlin. How on earth did you manage it, Severus? They're absolute terrors."

Severus laughed as he had never been able to in life. "I do not miss it."

"I don't blame you. Whichever idiot thought it a brilliant idea to put Gryffindors and Slytherins together in one of the most dangerous, exacting courses in the school deserves to be hung from the astronomy tower by their bollocks."

Harry snickered. "Might have been a woman, you know."

Hermione's wry look made both men laugh.

"I believe I know exactly which idiot you have to thank for that brilliant idea." Severus gave Albus a dark look, and Hermione snorted.

"Might have guessed it was one of Albus' half-cocked schemes."

Harry grinned. "Indeed."

Severus chuckled and rubbed Harry's shoulder. Harry took his hand and smiled at him in that way that made Severus' belly swoop and his heart flutter.

Yes, he was happy here. About damn time.

Hermione's expression softened. "I'm glad you two are doing well. You deserve some joy."

Harry kissed Severus' cheek, and Severus leaned into his touch—couldn't help it.

"Yeah. It's a good life here, even if I miss everyone." Harry hesitated. "How—how is Ginny? Ron's come by a few times, but I haven't heard…."

Hermione gave him a sad smile. "She was lost for a long time, and coming here hurt, but I think she'll be okay soon. She's been working at the new London Muggle-Wizarding Liaison Office in the Harpies' off season, and she—well, it's been good for her. They've got her working with children, you know. Muggleborns and Muggle-raised wixen in bad homes. I think it's been healing for her."

Harry nodded. "Merlin, I wish that had existed when I was young."

"I think that was why, you know. When it came out that Albus had sent you to an abusive home and that Severus had grown up in—well, you know—and that nothing was done to help either of you, Kingsley enacted new laws to protect Muggleborns and half-bloods in rhabdophobic homes. Ginny wanted to do something to—well, to find closure, I guess, and I think she's found it."

Harry smiled, though a touch of regret coloured his expression. "I'm glad to hear it."

Hermione smiled the same way. "Actually, she's met someone recently. You might meet him yourself soon, I think, as Minerva's hired him to teach potions next year. I'm moving to Transfiguration now that Minerva's taking over headmistress duties exclusively. Much more suited to my skillset, you know."

Severus rubbed his chin. "Hm. Who is it?"

"Ah, I don't know exactly. Ginny didn't tell me, though I do have my suspicions. She's a bit embarrassed, I think, but regardless, I do think it's a good sign for her healing. At least she's trying."

Harry winced. "Yeah."

Severus wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, and Harry leaned into Severus' side. A light kiss to Harry's temple eased the pain from his eyes.

"Thanks, Sev."

"Not at all." Severus left his arm around Harry and turned back to the woman. "Good luck with the Transfiguration post, Hermione. You are well-suited to teach it."

"Thank you, Severus. I do hope you're right."

"I generally am."

A tentative knock resounded through the glassworking room, and Harry shut down the kiln. A careful stasis spell on the figurine he had half-finished kept it from shifting as it cooled, and a barrier spell kept the hot glass from catching the room on fire. He washed his face and tied back his hair, then went to see who needed him. Severus met him in the garden—as long as neither man had the intent of separating from the other, they could inhabit different places of their dwelling without tripping the traps on their environment, whatever they were. 

Severus tucked a loose strand of hair behind Harry's ear and kissed his cheek. "How is your figurine coming along?"

"Good." Harry slipped his hand into Severus' and led him out of the room. "The arm is still a bit wonky, but I think I'm working out the kinks."

Severus squeezed his hand. "Shall I have a look at it later?"

"Hm, if you like. Might be that I've been staring at it too long."

"Perhaps." Severus guided Harry to the study, a soft smile on his face. Merlin, Harry adored seeing him like this, so happy and relaxed.

"You really do have a nice smile, Sev."

Severus' cheeks tinted a little. "How you can say that and mean it is beyond me."

"It's the truth."

Severus kissed Harry's temple. "Thank you. I…." They stepped into the study, and Severus froze.

"Sev? What is it?" Harry edged around him, and his stomach dropped into his feet. "Oh."

Ginny gave him a smile tinged with both pain and acceptance. He still thought her beautiful, but perhaps time had eased the pain of her loss. His stomach no longer jolted at the sight of her, nor did his chest ache so acutely. He had moved on, he supposed. The thought carried a bittersweet sting, nostalgia and regret for what could never be, and yet, relief warmed him, too. In time, they would be all right.

Ginny held up her hand in an uncertain greeting. "Hello, Harry. Hello, sir."

Severus gave her a cautious nod. Harry squeezed Severus' hand and stepped away with a brush against Severus' cheek.

"It's all right."

Severus leaned into Harry's touch. "Shall I have a look at your figurine then?"

"Ah, actually, sir," Ginny said, "I didn't come alone, and my…." She took a shuddering breath and squared her shoulders. "My boyfriend would like to say hello, if you don't mind to wait a moment."

A slight twinge stung Harry's heart, nothing like the wave of jealousy he had experienced in sixth year, nor the pain he had felt upon letting her go for the final time. He rubbed his chest with a frown. Huh. Maybe he really had moved on then.

"Harry?" Ginny lifted her hand halfway to her chest and shifted from foot to foot. "I—was it wrong of me to—"

"No. It's all right." He smiled, and no pain twisted it. "I'm glad you're doing better. I didn't want you to pine away. You deserve better than that."

Ginny's expression eased. "Yeah?" Her shoulders slumped and a sigh escaped her. "Thank Merlin. I've been so afraid to tell you. I didn't want to break your heart when you've already lost so much."

"No. It's… okay. Really. As long as you're happy."

Ginny's smile held honest joy this time. "I am, though it's—well, I imagine you'll be shocked. Still, he's all right, and I hope you'll accept this one day."

Harry frowned. "'S not my business anymore, Ginny. You've your life to live, and I—well, Sev and I are happy enough here. It's a good life, in a manner of speaking, now we've worked out how to come and go and found things that make us happy. Sev did all these paintings, did you know? And I made all the glassworks. So we're doing all right where we are, even if it might not seem that way out there."

Ginny gasped. "Merlin, Harry. You made these? And Headmaster Snape—these are beautiful! Did you really do this ballerina here, Harry? Seems so different from the you I remember."

"Well, I suppose we've both changed a bit, but that one…." Harry snorted. "See for yourself." He pressed the dancer's foot, and she began to twirl and dance, but about halfway through the first stanza of 'Love Story….'

"Is—is that… one of Barnabas' dancing trolls?"

Harry laughed. "Got it in one."

Ginny giggled and grinned at him. "Now that's more like the Harry I know."

Harry chuckled and shut the troll off. It gave a clumsy bow, scratched its bum, and shifted back into a ballerina.

Ginny gave a bright laugh. "Brilliant work. George would love something like that for the shop."

"I can give him the spell, but he'll have to make the figurines on his own—both forms of them. I don't think Sev will mind." At Ginny's bemused look, Harry went on with, "He helped me craft the charms, so they're his, too."

"As with my research, it does us no good to keep it to ourselves," Severus said. "George may have it and welcome. If it brings some little joy back to his life and to others', then I am glad to share it."

Ginny nodded and gave him a grief-tinged smile. "Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to take it to him then."

"Not at all," said Harry, "but I'm curious. Who are you dating now? 'Mione said they're taking over Potions this term."

Ginny blushed. "Er, you probably won't believe this, but—well, just promise me you won't be angry?"

Harry frowned. "Angry? I already said it's not my business anymore, didn't I? All I care about is that he treats you right."

Ginny let her breath out in a rush. "Just, remember that, all right?"

Severus looked between them and gave a soft sigh. "Miss Weasley, I believe Harry understands now that not every Slytherin is untrustworthy."

Harry slipped his hand into Severus'. "Yeah. Sure do." He waved Ginny on. "Like I said, long as he treats you well, I don't care who it is. So…?"

Ginny gave him a wan smile. "Thanks, Harry. Well, um, after I realised that you and I wouldn't work out, I was in a bad place. I spent a lot of time hiding on the pitch or in the forest, and, well, it turns out I wasn't the only one who had lost something precious in the war. I lost you, and his father…." She shook her head. "Well, we had a lot of shared griefs. Anyway, I met him out on those walks often and, well, we got closer, and…." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Now I'm dating Draco."

Harry nearly swallowed his tongue. "You—come again? Draco, as in Draco Malfoy?"

"In the flesh, Potter." Malfoy stepped out of the shadows, and Harry had to admit the man had changed. The cocksure attitude and condescending sneer had gone, as had the lacquered head and snooty robes. Malfoy wore his hair longer these days, tied back much like Harry's own, and he wore a simple green instructor's robe, with few of the frou-frou frills he had taken such pride in before. He gave Harry a frank, assessing look, and a bemused frown crossed his face.

"I didn't think portraits changed."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And I didn't think Malfoys could clean up into something decent enough to catch Ginny's eye, but here we are."

Malfoy's cheeks flushed. "Potter, when we were in school…." He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Most of the rivalry, the superior attitude—I was trying to impress my father. And sixth year—the Dark Lord held Mother's life hostage. It was either do what he said, or…."

Harry grimaced. "Merlin. I wish you'd have told me. I'd have helped you if you had only asked. Sev, too."

Malfoy shook his head. "Why would I have trusted either of you? We were enemies, Potter, though I know it was mostly my fault, and Severus was a damn good spy—too good. I thought if he ever had an inkling I didn't intend to follow through…."

"Oh." Harry nodded and crossed his arms over his waist. "Yeah. I reckon I can see that."

"Thanks." Malfoy rubbed his foot against the floor and cleared his throat. "I—well, I owe you both an apology. More than, really. You could have left me to die in my own stupidity, but you didn't. You faced fiendfyre for me, Potter, and Severus…." Malfoy gave him a look full of remorse and regret. "What you did for me, sir—gods. Nothing can repay it."

"This is a damn good start," said Harry.

Malfoy's posture eased a little. "Yes? Oh. That's good to know."

"Yeah." Harry fixed him with a sharp look. "That said, you had better take care of her, or I'll work out how to curse your arse from beyond the grave."

Malfoy glanced at the glass dancer. "I believe it, but I have no intention of hurting her. I'm quite in love with her."

Ginny kissed Draco's cheek and slipped her hand into his. "It's a mutual thing."

Harry smiled. "Good. Then good luck, both of you."

"Thank you, Potter."

"Harry."

"Harry then. And you may call me Draco."

Harry pressed his hand against the glass. "Glad you've finally worked out what the right sort is, Draco."

Draco snorted and pressed his palm against Harry's. "Better late than never."

Severus rubbed Harry's shoulder. "Indeed."

Hermione dismissed her final class of the day, but when she moved to close the door behind the last of her third year Hufflepuffs, a booted foot propped it open.

"Did you forget something, Mister—oh." The man standing in her doorway was certainly no student. "Malfoy. What is it?" For all that Malfoy had grown up, she hadn't forgotten his former values and ideals.

Malfoy leaned against the doorframe and inspected his fingernails. "I'm not here to insult you or cause you trouble, Granger. You're my girlfriend's sister-in-law. It would be exceptionally foolish of me to treat you with anything less than respect."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. Draco's cheeks turned pink, and the cocky smirk melted off of his face.

"And I've learned better anyway," he said in a softer tone. "Potter—he was no pureblood, and he proved himself the better of us all. And—and you." He met her eyes, steeled his posture, and bowed. "I owe you all more than apologies. I owe you my life and my freedom, and I haven't forgotten."

Hermione's lingering anger faded. He had truly changed, and perhaps it was time to move beyond the past. He had, at least, admitted his debt to her and her friends and owned up to his guilt. The Draco Malfoy of the war would have sooner eaten dirt than admitted responsibility for anything.

Still….

"What changed you? Was it only Lucius' death, or…?"

Malfoy flinched at the mention of his father and came out of his bow. "That was—" His breath rushed out in a shaky sigh. "I-I'm aware the final year of the war was horrid for you. What you might not realise—he was in my house, Granger. All the torture, the death, the misery—it happened under my roof, and I had to h-hear—to see…." He looked away and covered his mouth with a trembling hand. "I saw his evil firsthand, I lived it. Then, the remaining Death Eaters blamed the Dark Lord's death on Father, and…." He shook his head. "No, Granger, it wasn't only Father. I already regretted ever playing a part in that monster's schemes long before the end of sixth year."

Hermione nodded, her chest aching with the memories of that year and the idea of living in the kind of hell Bellatrix had put her through. Merlin, no wonder Draco had changed.

She offered her hand. "If you've no desire to dredge up past grudges, then there's no sense in holding them."

Malfoy shook her hand. "Thank you, Granger."

"Hermione."

"Draco then."

Hermione nodded and straightened her skirts, if only to have something to do with her hands. "Well then, did you only come by to apologise, or did you need something?"

Draco shook his head and frowned. "Not only to apologise, though it was overdue." He crossed his arms over his chest and let his breath out in a huff of consternation. "It's Harry and Severus. I've been visiting with Severus since coming to take the potions position and—well, is it just me, or does Harry look older?"

Hermione blinked several times. "I hadn't noticed, but then I see him most days. A change that gradual might go unnoticed."

Draco nodded. "Not so for me. He's filled out, his hair is longer, and his face is more mature. He should look exactly the same age he did at death, and yet, he's aged. Even apart from the aging, portraits don't change at all, given they're paint, yet they have changed, and they're crafting glass and painting pictures of their own." He gave her an assessing look. "And I think you know why."

Hermione stilled. "What makes you think that I know anything more about this than you do?"

Draco snorted. "Please. I may not have been your friend, Hermione, but we still shared classes and lives for seven years. You couldn't let a mystery like that rest if your life depended on it."

Hermione searched his gaze. "I may know something, but whether I will share it or not depends on two things."

"Yes?"

"A vow of silence—no need for anything as dire as an unbreakable vow, but I do need some reassurance that you won't go blabbing to anyone other than Minerva or Albus, as they know, too. That includes Ginny and Harry and Severus themselves."

Draco rubbed his chin. "You think it would hurt them to know."

"Until we're sure of the facts, absolutely."

Draco inclined his head. "I'm willing to take a vow, then. Your other condition?"

She stared, seeking out the truth. "Why do you want to know, and what do you intend to do with the knowledge?"

"The answer to both questions is the same: I owe them more than my life, Hermione. Severus took the fall for me and sacrificed everything so I didn't have to. Harry fought through fiendfyre to save me, even though he thought me an enemy still. If there is anything I can do to repay them, somehow, I want to try."

Hermione watched him a moment longer, but she sensed no sign of dishonesty. Severus was a better judge of character anyway, and if he sensed a threat in Draco, he would have told her before now.

She sighed and waved him into the room. "Truth be told, I could use your help. I've already checked a good portion of both branches of the Hogwarts library, the public Ministry library, and the London Wizarding Library, and I've found nothing. I could use another pair of eyes."

Draco took the seat she offered him. "I'll be glad to help. My family library has resources Hogwarts and the Ministry don't, and while not all are… savoury, we may yet find answers in places where censorship for the 'good of the public' doesn't apply."

Hermione had to admit he had a point, much as she hoped to avoid resorting to dark magic. Even so, for her brother and his mate, she would risk it.

"All right. Then take your vow, and I'll tell you what I know."

Draco nodded and obeyed.

Two months later, Draco came to visit Hermione in the quarters she shared with her new husband, a book under one arm and a look of determination on his face. "Draco?" Hermione looked over her shoulder and waved him inside. "Ron is out at the pitch with—"

"Ginny. I know. I checked before I came. She's just started her routine, so we have some little time."

Hermione nodded and motioned to her living room. "Sit. What have you found?"

Draco perched on the armchair and passed her the book—Bonds and Arcana. "Here. Careful with that—it's nearly as old as Hogwarts itself."

By the peeling cover and ancient binding style, Hermione had already surmised as much. "Yes, of course. So…?"

"Yes, I—I might have found… something. It's not everything we were hoping for, but it might, at least, give us a place to start from. It's on page fifty-six."

Hermione waved him on. "Give me the gist. I'll study it in depth when I have more time."

"Yes. Well, it's like this. The information on soul bonds in that book suggests that, in the event of a life-threatening emergency, bonded souls can pull each other back from death, as long as the person was healthy enough to support life prior to their death."

Hermione frowned. "Harry and Severus aren't fully bonded in this life, though, and they weren't even linked at the time of Severus' death."

"No, and maybe that's why they ended up in a portrait instead of fully on this side again." Draco shook his head. "It's not definite, but either way, encouraging those two to stop dawdling can only help."

"I don't think Harry even knows how he feels yet, Draco, and telling him might only push him further away. It should be his choice anyway."

"True, but we can throw him a few hints, can't we?"

Hermione snorted. "Good luck with that."

Draco gave her a wry grin. "Yes, I do think we'll need it."

"Indeed."

Four quiet years passed in peace for Harry and Severus. Together, they had finished the cottage and a greenhouse. Harry had earned his NEWTs, at least by Severus' standards, and Severus had taught him much of herbology, biology, and potions. Both kept up their journals, and Severus had started a book. Well, it wasn't likely to ever see publication, not when they couldn't affect the world outside their portrait, but it gave Severus joy to write and illustrate it anyway.

Harry had found his stride in his magical glasswork, and he had branched out into all sorts of intricate projects. They had both come to enjoy woodworking and crafting of all sorts, too. Creating useful and beautiful things with his own hands satisfied Harry in a way nothing else had ever done.

All told, this strange world had become home, and Harry loved it.

He set down a nearly completed chandelier, a project he intended to give to Severus as a gift, and made his way to the rose garden, where Severus had gone to paint.

Harry discovered his companion glancing between a reference image and his easel, face smudged with green paint and fixed in an expression of intense concentration. Severus usually heard him approach, but this time, he had lost himself in his work, and Harry found himself intrigued. What subject could have arrested Severus' attention so completely?

Harry stood by an apple tree a few yards away and watched over Severus' shoulder, a soft smile on his face. Then, Severus moved to clean his brush, and Harry's breath stilled. He had expected to see a painting of the roses in bloom, or perhaps a seascape.

Instead, he found himself staring into a perfect copy of his own eyes.

Oh god. Harry had never imagined himself a beautiful man, but this gave him reason to revise his opinion. His hair hung loose around his face, soft waves flowing over his bare shoulders and glowing pink and orange in the light of dawn. The sun turned his eyes golden, and the light silhouetting his form gave him a soft, pensive sort of look. He held a glass ornament up, inspecting it for imperfections, and the refractions set him aglow in rainbows and sparkles.

So this was how Severus thought of him. Skilled. Passionate. Beautiful. And, mad as it was, Harry read love in every stroke, every tiny detail rendered in such a way as to highlight his every strength and soften every flaw.

Oh sweet Merlin, Severus was in love with him!

Harry slumped against his tree, all the strength gone out of him. He had known of Severus' devotion—the man's sacrifices in life and his affection in the portrait world had made that abundantly clear—but he hadn't realised Severus wanted him on a deeper level, too.

No. No, it was only a painting. Surely he had read too much into this. Severus appreciated Harry's looks, yes, but that didn't mean he was in love with him.

It was mad and silly and irrational, and yet….

Harry peeked at the painting again and blinked back tears. No. This was more than a beautiful work of art—it was Severus' soul on the canvas.

Besides, even if the painting honestly meant nothing, the myriad other signs had crept up on Harry slowly, and he could no longer ignore the meaning behind them. He hadn't understood sooner—first grief and then familiarity had blinded him—but he had sensed something more in Severus since the day their souls had linked. And the way Severus looked at him sometimes—Merlin.

How the bloody hell had Harry gone five years without a clue? Hermione had known, probably before Severus did. Ron had caught on a bit later, but Harry couldn't help but notice that he had stopped treating Severus like a threat a long time ago. Ginny had seen it, too. The day she had come with Ron and Hermione after that first summer, something had changed in her. Harry hadn't understood then, but looking back—god, he really was a dunderhead. Hell, even Draco had known all of two meetings in, judging by the subtle hints he had thrown Harry over the past four years to 'move his arse along already.'

Harry's skull thumped against the tree trunk, and rough bark scraped his scalp. Severus was in love with him, and what did that mean for them? Did Harry love him, too?

He slipped away, mind frantic and heart in tatters. If he couldn't love Severus, too, what would happen to them? He adored the man even if he had never considered romance as a factor, and they were bound to each other. If their relationship didn't work, it wasn't as though Harry could hop portraits and hang out with some other headmaster.

Could he ignore it and let things go on as they were? Severus had never pressured him, and he was happy.

Harry would know, though. Every time Severus held him a little too tightly, every time his eyes lingered too long, Harry would know. And the idea of leaving Severus in pain, even if he never showed it—Merlin, no. Severus had endured enough.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to compose his fragmented thoughts. He didn't know if he wanted a deeper relationship or not, but one thing he could be damn sure of—rushing in like a Gryffindor idiot would only hurt them both.

He needed to take his time, to think about this and work out the truth of his own heart. Only when he knew how he felt would he talk to Severus about it. Until then, he had a half-finished racing broom in the toolshed calling his name.

As one of her NEWT students had just acquired a rare magical animagus form—a fwooper—Hermione had research to do. Fwoopers were dangerous to humans, and that meant she had to teach her student how to control her animagus's vocalisations, and fast. To that end, she had gathered all the resources she could find on magical avian species and Animagi and studied them long into the night.

Ron had long since kissed her cheek and gone on to bed when she came across an excerpt that sent her heart crashing into her throat.

Many magical avian species, such as phoenixes, Sahara sunbirds, and nighthawks, can alter or freeze a person's state of being, indicated by a great flash of light around the target. As these powers take a massive toll on the avian involved, they are only used in extreme circumstances.

"Oh Merlin, this might be the answer for Harry and Severus!" She scanned the book for any further information, pulse racing and stomach flipping with every slight hint, but the book gave no further useful information, neither for her friends nor her student.

"Damn. Nothing." She set the book aside and picked up the next. Surely one of her books had to have something, but just in case she came up empty….

"Pig?" Ron's tiny owl hooted cheerfully and zoomed around Hermione's head. She jotted a note for her fellow researchers—Found a clue. Flash of light indicates magical avian interference—and attached two copies to Pig's leg. "Take those to Minerva and Draco. Don't let anyone
else see you. You know the drill."

Pig hooted a happy confirmation and zipped away.

"Well, we might have some real answers soon." With a sigh, she opened her book and skimmed it for clues. "One can hope, anyway."

Ron had come for a visit while Severus was busy in the lab, and though Harry enjoyed his time with his friends on the other side, today, he had other things on his mind. He still had no idea what to do about Severus and if he could love him the way Severus needed him to. It consumed him, these worries spinning circles in his brain, and—

"Harry? Mate, what's going on?"

Harry jerked out of his thoughts to find Ron watching him through the portrait window with worried eyes.

"Er, what? I didn't catch that."

Ron huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I've noticed. You've barely heard two words I've said today. You want to tell me what's wrong?"

Harry fidgeted and paced, unsure what to say. "I…."

"Mate, is it Severus? You two have a fight?"

Harry let his breath out in a rush and fell into the chair by his desk. "No. Sev's been brilliant, but…."

"But…?"

"He—he's in love with me, Ron."

Ron stared, eyes wide and mouth gaping. "He…."

Harry winced and looked away. "Don't look at me like that. I can't help it."

"No, no. You've got it all wrong, mate. I'm not shocked he's in love with you or that you're gay—I'm shocked you didn't know. You mean to tell me you've been kissing and cuddling him like a partner all this time and you're not together?"

Harry's gut dropped. Oh god. Had he been leading Severus on all this time?

"I—w-what do you mean?"

Ron gave a wry laugh. "And 'Mione calls me an emotional dunce. For Merlin's sake, mate, every time I see you together, you're either hugging his side or holding his hand. You're more affectionate than me and 'Mione. How can you not have known?"

Harry flushed and fidgeted with a glass phoenix paperweight Severus had made for him in their second summer here. "I-I don't…."

Ron gave him a searching look. "That's what all this is. You've wound yourself up worrying over whether you can be what he needs or not because you've got some odd idea of what love is supposed to be like, yeah?" He shook head and sat on the edge of the desk, all mirth gone. "Merlin, Harry. You really don't know, do you?"

Harry winced and set the paperweight down. "Know what?"

Ron held his eyes and said in a tone that left little room to question him, "That you're in love with him, too."

Harry gasped and jumped to his feet. "W-what? I'm—but I—how can you know that?"

"Because I know you, Harry. You don't hold random people. You never even hugged me like you do Severus."

Harry gripped the chair arms to keep from reeling. "But when I was with Ginny, it felt different. It wasn't as… calm, I guess."

"I hate to say it, mate, because she's my baby sister, but I don't know that you ever really loved Ginny. Not like you love him. It was like, you wanted to love her, but I don't think the feeling was the same."

Harry dropped his head and blinked hard. "I would've married her if I could have."

"That doesn't mean you would have been happy. Not in the long run. Besides, even if I'm wrong and you did really love her, don't you know love changes after a while? Well, I mean, the romance will still be there if you don't let it go, but the feeling—I guess it gets softer. More like it becomes a part of you rather than that giddy nervous stuff right at the beginning."

"How would I know that, Ron? How long did I have with Ginny?"

Ron grimaced. "Fair point. I'm sorry, mate. All I meant to say is that I think you're waiting to fall in love when you already did it five years ago."

Harry flopped back in his chair, all the breath gone out of him. "You think I—Merlin."

"Just think about it like this, mate. Can you picture yourself staying with him forever and being happy—I mean, just living together and being friends as much as lovers?"

Harry shrugged. "We already are. And yeah, I'm happier dead than I ever was alive, barring that I miss everyone."

"So you've got compatibility going. You two do potions and glass together, too, and I know you've both been working on expanding your cottage—the cottage you built with him—so you've plenty of things in common. Lots of shared history, too, and damn good communication for the most part. I swear I think you two share thoughts sometimes."

Harry swallowed hard. "So what does that mean?"

Ron leaned on his thighs and gave Harry a frank look. "I reckon it comes down to one thing, really. Can you see yourself shagging him? Can you imagine touching his body? Him touching yours? What's that do for you?"

Harry couldn't reply. Images of Severus laid out and writhing beneath him had utterly consumed his senses. That lithe body, that gorgeous hair, dark eyes, elegant fingers—oh, sweet Merlin, yes. A surge of heat in his groin sent him reeling, and he grabbed the nearest bookshelf for ballast.

"Bloody hell," Harry gasped out.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say," Ron said with a grin.

Harry gave him a dazed nod. Merlin help him, he really was a bloody dunderhead.

Harry held his finished broom in trembling hands. He had checked and triple checked the charms and set every twig in order. It was safe to fly, but….

He set the broom down and gazed out of the window. A crescent moon hung low in a starry sky, and the heat of summer had given way to the chill of autumn. Too chilly for a broom ride without a coat, gloves, and ample warming charms, but he knew of another way to fly that might offer more comfort.

He leaned against the cottage wall and sighed. What should he do? By now, he knew his feelings ran as deep as Severus', but they were happy as friends. If he took a chance, if Harry opened the door to a deeper bond between them, would they lose it all?

He stood tall and steeled his posture. To hell with that. If they had problems, they would talk them out. He wouldn't give up on Sev, and he wouldn't let Severus give up on him.

That was all he needed to know.

Harry found Severus cleaning his studio and watched him put away the last of his paints. "It's a good night for a fly."

Severus turned, a soft smile on his face. "You finished your broom?"

Harry motioned him to follow. "Come with?"

"Very well." Severus grabbed their coats on the way out and helped Harry into his. "Where is your broom?"

Harry's cheeks burned, but he gathered his courage and offered Severus his hands. "I—I don't need it."

"You don't?"

Harry slipped his arms around Severus' neck instead. "I just—just need you."

Severus stilled, and his fathomless eyes fixed upon Harry's. "Me?" His voice came out in a low murmur.

"Yeah." Harry leaned closer. "Take me away."

Severus closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. "Any time you ask it of me."

A sensation of lightness passed through Harry's middle, then a gentle breeze lifted them into the sky. He held onto Severus and watched the world drift away below their feet, trusting in his companion to keep him safe. Severus carried them over the waves, into a star-bright sky, and hovered over the water. 

"It is beautiful here." He hadn't taken his eyes off Harry.

Harry held his gaze and whispered, "Yeah. It really is."

Severus pulled him closer, so their bodies aligned and their breath mingled. "Harry, am I a fool to hope…?"

"No. You were never a fool." Harry kissed Severus' forehead, down his nose, and the corner of his lips. Severus tilted his head back and clutched Harry closer, eyes closed and breath rushing in short pants of freezing steam.

Heart thundering, Harry whispered against Severus' cheek, "Can I kiss you, Sev?"

"Gods, yes."

Harry tipped Severus' chin down and brought their lips together. Severus gasped and surged into him at the first touch. Oh. Oh, this was brilliant. A soft moan vibrated Harry's mouth, and Severus melted in his arms.

'Merlin, yes.'

Harry buried his hand in Severus' hair and explored the sweet taste of the mint tea Severus liked in the evenings, the slick curl of his tongue around Harry's own. Severus whimpered into his mouth and dragged him so close, Harry swore their souls meshed, and he knew what it meant to be truly whole.

He pulled back and nuzzled Severus' nose. "Better pay attention to our altitude, love. We're going a bit too high."

Severus guided them to the shore and laid Harry upon the sand. "Harry, do you know…?"

"Yeah. Took me long enough to cotton on, but I know how you feel, Sev." Harry guided Severus to lie beside him. "I feel the same."

Severus' eyes glimmered. "Stay in my arms then, beloved."

He pressed Harry's hands into the sand and hovered over him. Raven hair cascaded around Harry's shoulders and face and cocooned him in waves of ebony silk. Oh, yes. This was heaven.

Severus murmured against Harry's lips, "I love you, Harry. I always have."

"I love you, too, Sev. With all of me."

Severus lay atop him and kissed him until their breath ran short, and Harry lost himself in the sweet, heady pleasure of his touch.

"Harry…." Severus pressed his forehead against Harry's. Rapid puffs of breath brushed Harry's lips, unsteady and broken. "Is this real?"

"Yeah. It is." Harry smoothed Severus' hair. "Shh. Don't cry, love. It's all right. I'm right here."

Severus pressed his face into Harry's shoulder. "Stay with me."

"Always."

Severus' heartbeat pounded in his ears and his hands trembled in Harry's. His lover, his soulmate, his dearest friend. Harry loved him too, and without coercion, without the push of unwanted destiny. Harry had chosen this of his own will, and Severus could barely breathe with the thrill of it.

Wanted. Finally, someone he loved wanted him. Gods, what a beautiful feeling. For the first time since that fateful night, he didn't regret dying. He and Harry were happy together, and having Harry under him, feeling the heat of his lover's body moving with his—nothing he had felt in the living world compared to this.

Harry leaned up and whispered against Severus' ear, "I want you."

Severus gasped and shivered, his body on fire at the mere thought. "Ah. Have me then."

Harry's eyes burned. He turned Severus onto his back and dragged his hand down his lover's chest. Wandless magic opened Severus' buttons, and Harry slid Severus' shirt off of his shoulders.

Severus thought to warn him about the properties of beach sand and the discomfort of getting it in one's private places, but Harry's hot mouth found his nipple then, and all coherent thought left Severus' mind. He could do nothing but cling to Harry's neck and arch under him, soft whimpers low in his throat. Severus' shirt vanished, leaving him bare from the waist up, and he relaxed upon feeling soft fabric beneath him rather than sand. Reassured, Severus let himself fall, knowing Harry would catch him.

Soft murmurs of love and passion filled his ears, hot kisses marked every part of his body, tender and passionate by turns. Harry undressed and explored him from Severus' head to his feet, and Severus was crying out and pleading by the time Harry moved up from his ankles and knees.

The first lick against his tip made him gasp, and the wave of wet heat following set Severus sobbing. He twisted and thrashed, unable to breathe, unable to think. He hadn't spent his near forty years of life as an ascetic, but no touch had ever felt like this, no kiss had ever branded him down to his soul. With every brush of Harry's tongue, lightning and water danced within Severus, building to a powerful crescendo.

The first touch between his thighs—slick and probing, but gentle—jerked him out of ecstasy and left him cold. The few times he had ever allowed a man to top him, he had suffered.

"Love? You okay?" Harry looked up and rubbed Severus' flank. "You're shaking. Do you need me to stop?"

Severus let an unsteady breath out. "Be gentle. Slow. I have… trauma to overcome."

Harry blanched. "Oh god. Sev, have you been…?"

"No. Shh. Not that kind of trauma. Only careless partners who hurt me."

Harry climbed up Severus' body and cradled his face. "We can switch if you want."

"I… no. I would like you to make love to me, but do you know how, pet?"

Harry blushed. "Might have had Ron send Charlie to me so I could ask for pointers."

Severus gave a soft laugh. "That must have been an awkward conversation."

"More so in the fact that everyone knew I was in love with you before I did."

"I did not know," Severus whispered. "I wanted, but never dared entertain the hope…."

"You know now." Harry kissed his lover until Severus was aching, gasping for more.

"Sev, tell me if it hurts, and I swear I'll stop. I don't want to hurt you."

Severus nodded and, with a deep breath to steady his nerves, let his thighs fall open. "I trust you."

Harry kissed down Severus' body, a leisurely exploration of his torso and thighs, and, soon, Severus' lingering fear shifted to desperation.

"Damn it, Harry, get on with it."

Harry chuckled. "Took me five years to work out I wanted this. Apparently, I like to take my time."

"I am not as young as I used to be."

"We're portraits, love. You're exactly as young as you used to be."

Cool pressure stroked Severus between his legs, and a gasp and a whimper escaped his control.

"You okay, love?"

"Ah. F-fine. Just—yes. Like that."

Harry's luminous eyes held Severus' own as the pressure increased and eased inside. The strange sensation gave way to the heat of Harry's mouth on him, the glint of his beautiful eyes locked on Severus' face. Even with the lack of pain and added pleasure, Severus couldn't help a shard of fear.

"Relax, love." Harry nuzzled Severus' hip and kissed his thigh. "It's all right. You're safe with me."

Severus took a shaky breath and let his defenses drop. Harry was nothing like the inconsiderate arses who had hurt him, and love had never been a factor then.

"Yes. Ah." Severus gasped at a deeper stroke, a slow twist inside him. "Merlin."

"You okay?"

"Yes. Don't stop."

Harry kissed Severus' tip and obeyed. Severus let his head fall back and lost himself in pleasure. Oh, Merlin help him, he had never known this could feel so good. He arched and rocked into Harry, gone to everything but his touch, and Harry moved with him, whispers of encouragement and love soft on his lips.

"Ah, Harry, that—that's enough, love. I'm ready."

Harry looked up. "You're sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"Yes, Merlin, yes. Come. I—please."

"All right, but tell me if it hurts, okay?"

"Yes."

Harry moved up Severus' body, murmured a spell, and carefully eased inside. Severus kept expecting pain, but Harry was so gentle, he felt nothing but heat and pleasure. Then, Harry began to move, his eyes fixed upon Severus' face and his motions slow and easy, and Severus was lost.

"H-Harry, oh gods." Severus brought his lover into a deep kiss, and everything faded around him but the heat of Harry's body rocking with his, the soft sounds and murmurs of love he couldn't help, the warmth of his kiss. Severus clung to him like a man adrift, his only ballast in this dizzying sea of pleasure, and followed him to the crest. Passion washed over him and submerged him in pure bliss, and Severus cried out his lover's name.

"Harry!"

Harry mewled something indistinguishable and drowned Severus' cries in deep, hot kisses. Quicksilver and light, pleasure coursed through Severus' body and left him shaking and gasping. Harry followed him over the edge with a cry, and Severus sank into the sweet oblivion of Harry's arms.

"Harry…."

Harry kissed Severus softly and flopped onto the sand, breathless and trembling. "Merlin. I had no idea it would feel like that. Are you okay, love? I didn't hurt you?"

Severus grabbed him into his arms and held him close to his heart. "I have never felt such pleasure."

"And no pain?"

"No, love. It was wonderful."

Harry let out a sigh. "Brilliant." He snuggled into Severus' chest and kissed his shoulder. "Sev? Will you stay with me always?"

Tears prickled Severus' eyes, but he blinked them back and smiled. "Yes. I want nothing more."

Harry climbed up high enough to kiss Severus and conjured a blanket. A cushioning charm made the sand comfortable, and Harry's warm body cuddled against Severus' own chased away the chill of evening. In moments, Harry had fallen asleep, snuggled against Severus' shoulder.

Severus stroked his lover's hair with featherlight fingertips. "Always is no hardship with you, my love." He whispered the words against Harry's temple, closed his eyes, and let the lullaby of the waves carry him into dreams.

Harry woke spooned in Severus' arms. The light of dawn painted the beach pink and orange, and the crash of the waves made for a soothing lullaby. He could do without the sand in his hair, though. An early morning shower sounded like just the ticket.

Severus' arm tightened around Harry's waist, and his breath caught against Harry's ear. "It wasn't a dream."

Harry chuckled and turned in his lover's arms. "No, love. Still here." He kissed Severus softly and brushed the man's hair out of his face. "How are you feeling?"

"I… hardly have words." Severus caught Harry close against him and buried his face in Harry's hair. "S-so long, I…."

"How long, love?" Harry kissed his lover's chest and leaned on his elbow. "How long did you wait for me?"

Severus' face burned. "Since… the day we joined souls."

"All this time? Merlin. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Severus closed his eyes. "That, I think, is a discussion I may need Albus' help with."

"Albus? Huh. Well, okay. How about we go take a shower, then you can tell me in the study?"

Severus' eyes glinted with mischief. "It would save time to shower together."

Harry snorted. "I'm not too sure about that."

"I do not mind if you don't."

"You're on."

Severus laughed and apparated them home.

Harry panted against the shower wall, shaking with the intensity of feeling Severus had just wrought from him. Now he understood why Severus had looked so lost the night before, how it felt to be loved within and without. 

Severus gasped into Harry's shoulder. "Merlin. You will be the death of me, love."

"We already did that, can't do it again, so I reckon you're just going to have to put up with me for a long, long time."

Severus chuckled breathlessly and nuzzled Harry's neck. He took a moment to catch his breath and murmured, "It is nothing like I imagined death would be. Nothing like even being a portrait. It is almost as if we never died at all."

Harry frowned and leaned into Severus. "You… have a point. We're so different from the others. And before I came here, I was trapped in the in-between world, for lack of a better term. Where I went when Voldemort killed my horcrux, I mean. And that spell—it didn't hit me, Sev, and my horcrux was already dead. So why am I here? Not that I mind—it's been beautiful with you, and I have no desire to ever leave your side—but it doesn't make sense."

Severus stiffened and clutched Harry tight. "Before you woke, Albus said he thought something had gone awry, that you and I should not have died due to the web of protections all around us. And—and, there are other factors we must consider, but first… I think I must tell you the reason I kept quiet for so long."

Harry nodded. "Let's get dressed and talk then."

Severus kissed Harry's cheek. "You—you will not be angry? I only wanted this to happen by your choice alone, without fate or destiny or my own heart muddying your decision."

Harry looked over his shoulder. "Fate?"

"Yes."

"Maybe it was fated. I swear I think I fell for you around the same time. I was just too thick to notice."

Severus kissed him lightly. "You were grieving, not thick." He rested his forehead against Harry's. "Will you try to forgive me?"

"For letting me make up my own mind? By Merlin, Sev. Don't you understand I've never had a choice about much of anything my entire life? Giving me the freedom to find my own way to you was the best thing you could have done, though now I'm even more curious as to why you think I might have felt pressured."

Severus slumped against him with a sigh. "Thank Merlin." He kissed Harry's forehead and moved back to let the shower rinse them off. "There. Now that we are clean again, come and I will tell you what Albus revealed to me the night before our souls linked."

Harry nodded and followed Severus out of the shower.

Severus' hands trembled on the tabletop. He struggled to find words, to find a way to tell Harry of his hopes and their past without hurting him. Well, Harry had said Severus had done well by keeping it quiet, but he couldn't help but worry anyway. Those old fears of having too much joy, too much freedom came back to haunt him. Would this be the cost? To know Harry for a moment or two, then lose him forever?

Harry took Severus' hands and kissed each one. "Severus. I love you. If there's a problem between us, we'll talk it out, okay? You're not going to lose me, so just tell me. It's all right."

Severus took an unsteady breath and squeezed Harry's hands. "Yes, you are right. Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive, love. So what's going on?"

"I—well, do you know how wizarding marriage bonds work?"

"Er, not really. I assumed it's like the magical version of Muggle marriage." Harry's expression softened. "Are we married, love?"

Severus' heart jumped. Did Harry want to marry him? He fought back a surge of powerful emotion and struggled to keep his voice steady. "N-no. That requires vows and a ceremony, but…." He swallowed hard. "I…."

"It's okay, Sev. I already asked you to stay with me forever. As far as I'm concerned, we might as well be bonded, as close as we are to each other, so it's nothing to worry about."

Severus' stomach flipped. "You—you would honestly bond with me?"

"Right here, if you want. The place it all began, yeah? And the people we love could be with us then."

Severus' eyes welled and his soul soared. "Oh, my Harry." He leaned forwards and kissed his partner, trembling with the intensity of his joy. Oh god. Bonded. Harry had honestly asked him. He pulled back with tears on his face and clung to Harry's hands. His voice came out in a shaky whisper.

"Yes, my love. That sounds lovely."

Harry grinned. "We're engaged then?"

Severus couldn't help smiling back. "Yes. I can't believe…."

"Believe it, Sev. I love you, and I want to bond to you as soon as we're ready."

Severus blinked hard and kissed Harry's hand. "I love you too, pet."

Harry rubbed his thumb over Severus' knuckles. "Wish I had a ring. Maybe I'll make them for us. An unbreakable spell would work, right?"

"Add a sizing charm and yes."

"Done."

Severus smiled softly and rubbed his ring finger, aglow with the thought of having proof of their bond beyond their souls. Proof others could see.

Oh. The soul bond. Right.

He Occluded to calm himself and squeezed Harry's hands. "I am thrilled to bond my life to yours, Harry, but you should know that our souls…." He steeled himself and held Harry's gaze. "Our souls are already bonded and have been for aeons."

Harry blinked a few times. "Aeons?"

"Y-yes. Modern wizarding marriage bonds work much the way you assumed. There is a ceremony and vows, and when the bond is consummated—by a joining of magics, not sexual congress; that is very much a Muggle notion—the couple is bonded, either for the duration of their lives or until the bond is dissolved."

"Divorce?"

"Yes, the wizard's equivalent of it at least."

"Okay, so how are our souls already married then?"

Severus laced his fingers with Harry's. "I am relieved you are taking this so well."

Harry squeezed Severus' hands. "I already knew I wanted forever with you."

Severus nodded, expression serious again. "And that is what we shall have. Harry, our bond is eternal. It will last beyond death and into any future lives we experience."

"Future—oh, sweet Merlin! Are you saying we've been reincarnated and our lives were bonded before?"

"Yes. Any number of times—who can say?"

Harry flopped back into his chair. "Bloody hell. I didn't know that was a thing—past lives. I figured we only get the one."

"Honestly, so did I until I discovered our souls had a standing bond."

"Yeah. So how did that happen?"

Severus gazed at the glass sculpture of a doe and stag Harry had given him for his birthday the year before. "In the beginning, magic was exceedingly rare, and so when a compatible magical couple fell in love, they bonded eternally to ensure the continuation of our lineage. Our souls are linked forever and can never bond to another." He summoned the sculpture and set it between them. "Our patronus forms are proof of it, as they are mates, though not every pair of patronuses signifies a soul bond in the current age. Nevertheless, ours most certainly do."

"Merlin." Harry stroked the doe's back. "So we've been married before, loads of times."

"Yes." Severus watched Harry caress the image of his patronus with a tender smile on his face. "That is I think, part of the reason we get on so well now. We have had several lifetimes to work on it."

"Apparently so." Harry gave him a curious look. "So if this hadn't happened, if we'd stayed in the living world and gone on with our lives, what would've happened to us?"

"Who can say? You might have been drawn to me eventually. I do not know. As for your former paramour, had you continued with Ginny, eventually you would have learned of the bond. You would not have been able to marry as wizards, though the Muggle route would have still been open to you."

"Bloody hell. Maybe it's a good thing I died then, especially since Gin and Draco are happy together." Harry frowned. "Well, if we're really dead."

"And this is where I need Albus' assistance." Severus guided Harry to his feet and led him to the window into the headmistress's office. "Albus? Wake up, old man."

Harry leaned against Severus' side and murmured, "We don't sleep like they do either, do we?"

"No."

Albus snorted and jerked awake. "What? Oh, Harry, Severus. You look determined. Did you have a question for me, boys?"

"Yeah." Harry met the old man's eyes and stood tall—taller than he had been in life. "All right, old man. Sev and I know something is up, so give it to us straight and don't dance around the answer, yeah? So, are we really dead?"

Albus gave him a wry smile. "I'm afraid Phineas and I are, as the phrase goes, dead as a doorknob."

"Doornail, Albus," Severus snapped. "Dead as a doornail, and you know perfectly well Harry meant us—Harry and myself. You said the first night we woke here that this should not have happened, so explain."

Albus stroked his beard. "Well, I would, my friend, but I'm afraid this time I am not the person you need to ask. I will, of course, point you in the right direction, but before I do, let me ask you this, boys. If it happens that you are well and truly dead, how will you cope?"

Harry gazed at Severus and gave him a soft smile. "I reckon we'll be okay."

Severus kissed him with a light, loving touch and caressed his cheek. "Dead or alive, as long as you are with me, Harry, I am content."

"Yeah." Harry tucked his head into the crook of Severus' neck. "Yeah, I'm happy with you no matter what."

"Excellent," said Albus with a genuine smile. "Congratulations, boys, and I wish you the best of luck in this life, however long or short it may be, and in your future lives."

"Thank you, Albus." Severus fixed the old man with a hard look. "Now, do get to the point. Who do we ask if not you?"

Albus chuckled. "Well, I have had some small part in solving the puzzle, but given as I am a portrait now, Minerva and two of our professors have headed the investigation these past five years. Perhaps, if you might send Minerva a patronus, Severus, she will bring them by for a much-overdue discussion."

Severus frowned and stared at his hand. "I—a patronus? But…."

"Yes." Albus gave him a knowing look. "This, I believe, will stand as the final answer to our questions. After all, if your magic no longer exists on the plane of the living, you cannot affect it. However, if you still live, in some fashion or another…."

Severus swallowed a flutter of butterflies. "I—yes." He met Harry's eyes. "If we are, one day, able to escape this portrait, will you still—"

Harry dragged Severus into a fiery, soul-searing kiss, and Severus melted into him with a soft moan. He clutched Harry's hair and let the younger man tilt him backwards with the force of his passion. Only a quiet titter brought him back from the brink and reminded him of their audience.

He moved back, breathless, well-kissed, and more than a little turned on.

"Always, Sev," Harry said before Severus could speak. "No matter who we are or where we spend our lives, I want to spend all of our futures with you."

Severus closed his eyes against a wave of emotion and rested his head against Harry's. "Always it is."

He formed the message he needed to send in his mind and focused his thoughts on this moment and the joy coursing through him, down to the core of his soul. No need to dredge up shades of lost memories when he was happier than he had ever been.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silvery doe formed next to Severus. His heart sank at the sight—she was on the wrong side of the window. Damn. They really were dead then.

"It's okay, Sev." Harry kissed him lightly. "I'm happy here either way."

Severus smiled and tugged him closer. "Yes. I…." His doe interrupted with a nuzzle of his cheek. Hm. He had expected her to fade. "Yes?"

The doe nuzzled Harry's cheek.

"Oh, I think she's congratulating us." Harry rubbed her head. "Thanks, girl. I do love your master."

She licked his hand, an acknowledgment of Severus' new mate, bowed to Severus, and bounded away.

Through the glass.

To the living world.

Severus sank against the wall with a gasp. "Oh, Harry! Do you think…?"

Harry met Severus' gaze and, with a deep breath, lifted his hand in preparation to cast. "One way to find out, yeah?" He closed his eyes and murmured, "Expecto Patronum!" His stag burst forth and nuzzled Severus' face, much like his doe had done with Harry.

"Thank you," Severus whispered.

The stag licked his hand and gave Harry a curious look.

"Prongs, go find Ron, Ginny, Draco, and 'Mione."

The stag bowed and bounded away after Severus' doe.

"Y-yeah," Harry said, voice shaky, "I'd say there's a fair chance, love."

Severus caught Harry into his arms and held him tight, praying their answers, whatever form they took, did not cost him everything—again.

Minerva had taken the scant opportunity her busy Saturdays allowed to discuss Severus' and Harry's situation with her compatriots. She sat beside Hermione in the living room of Draco's Hogwarts quarters and pored over the latest find from Malfoy Manor, but like Draco and Hermione, she could find no answer that covered all their questions.

"If we just knew what kind of bird had interfered with them," Draco said, "we could narrow down the possible effects—and maybe find the solution from there."

"Well, yes, but that's the trouble, isn't it?" Hermione shook her head. "We can't find any particular bird or spell that could trap people in portrait form."

"I still believe it is likely Fawkes." Minerva tapped a passage in their book. "This suggests a phoenix can bring someone back from the verge of death, or even from beyond it, if the soul has not been gone too long."

"Yes, but it says nothing of stasis or portraits." Draco sighed. "I begin to think we need to tell Harry and Severus. Harry has experience of Fawkes' intervention, and Severus has much more knowledge of obscure magic than I do, and different types than Albus. They might be able to tell us themselves."

"But if we get their hopes up for nothing," Hermione began.

"I think they'll be fine, Hermione. They've made their world a home, and they're happy with each other. Harry's finally cottoned on to his feelings, too, so I don't think they'd be too upset."

Minerva pursed her lips, then let out a sigh. "Perhaps you have a point. Severus is the most brilliant man I've ever known. If anyone can see the links we don't, he can."

Hermione hesitated. "I—you're sure about this?"

Minerva nodded. "I am."

"Then we should tell Ron and Ginny too. They both know we're keeping secrets, and we've kept it too long, I think. It's not fair to hide it from them any longer, and anyway, Ron has a good head for strategy and such. He might see holes in our research, too."

"Fair point. Then let me just send them a patronus and we'll call them in."

Ron's voice, shaky and high with tension, spoke from the doorway. "No need, Draco. S-someone already did."

"What?" Minerva turned to find a whitefaced Ron and tearful Ginny standing in the doorway, silhouetted by an argent form. A patronus—a stag patronus, and a silvery doe walked at her side.

Harry and Severus!

Minerva stood, eyes wide, and gasped as the graceful beings pranced to a dumbstruck Hermione. The stag nuzzled her cheek, and the doe watched from Minerva's side.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione hugged the stag, a sob caught in her throat. It vanished, but before anyone could speak, the doe nudged Minerva's hand and murmured her name in a familiar low bass.

"Severus?" Minerva touched the doe's forehead with a trembling hand. "Y-yes?"

The doe spoke in Severus' voice, softer as of late and much warmer. "Minerva, Harry and I have reason to suspect we are not as dead as we had previously believed. If this message reaches you, then, I think, we may assume we are correct. Please bring your compatriots and help us understand."

The patronus faded, leaving Minerva shaken to her core. "Oh, Severus." Tears blurred her vision. "How I hope you are right."

Ginny's shaky voice whispered, "Alive? They—they're alive?"

Draco stood and watched her with fear in his eyes. "We—we weren't sure. We didn't want to get your hopes up only to—" He hugged his waist and stared at the floor, and Minerva had never seen him look so small. "Do—do you still want to marry me next month, Ginny?"

Ginny glared at him. "Of course I do, you dolt. Harry's mad for Severus anyway. I just—I wish you had told me."

"Yeah," Ron said. "We might have been able to help."

Hermione wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. We just didn't want to break your hearts all over again if it turned out to be wishful thinking."

Ron frowned at his wife. "This is what you two have been hiding all this time?"

Hermione nodded, cheeks red and eyes downcast. "I-I'm sorry."

"Thank Merlin," Ron said with a great sigh. "I thought you'd gotten tired of me, and—well, he's more academic and all, and—"

"Dear gods, Ron," Draco cried, horrified. "You honestly thought we were having an affair?"

Ron flushed. "Er, no. Not quite. I know 'Mione's too honest for that, and you're stuck on Ginny, but, well, we thought you might have more in common with each other."

"We thought you were commiserating over us to each other," said Ginny with a blush. "So this is a relief."

Hermione glared and pressed her hands into her hips. "Since when do I ever hesitate to tell you when you're being a ponce, Ronald? Such as right this minute."

Minerva snorted. "Never, as any portrait in the castle—and probably several across Europe—could tell you."

Ron laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "All right, reckon it was a bit thick of us. Can you forgive me, 'Mione?"

Hermione motioned him over. "It was our fault, really. We should have told you sooner. We were just worried about hurting Harry and Severus."

"Yeah. I get that." Ron gathered his wife into his arms. "So, Harry and Severus can send their patronuses out into the real world? That's wicked, though it damn near gave us both a heart attack. Never thought I'd see old Prongs again, and here he comes prancing across the pitch, and me and Ginny left gaping like a pair of berks."

"Damn near scared us off our brooms," Ginny said with a shudder.

Draco winced. "Are you okay?"

"Obviously, love." She kissed him lightly. "We're fine, and maybe this means Harry and Severus are, too. At least there's a good chance for them, right?"

"I think so," Minerva said with a sniffle. "I hope so. Merlin, I hope."

Ginny took Draco's hand and kissed him lightly. "Don't look so nervous, love. It's okay. You only meant to protect us, and I've loved you longer than I loved Harry now anyway. Nothing has changed between us."

Draco kissed her hair. "Thank Merlin." He murmured something in his fiancée's ear that made her smile, and she gave him a shy nod.

"Brilliant." Draco stood tall, confidence restored. "Then let's go to Minerva's office, and we'll catch you all up at the same time."

"Sounds good, mate," said Ron.

Harry fell back against his bench—one he had made with Severus two summers ago—and let his breath out in a rush. His friends and family had gathered in Minerva's office, each ensconced in a cushy tartan armchair, while the three professors took it in turn to explain five years' worth of intensive research and theorising. Harry's mind whirled with all the information they had presented, from books, observation, deduction, and any other source they could find. He didn't understand all of it, particularly not Draco's attempts to break down the complexities of consciousness transference or whatever he called it, but one fact was plain enough.

"Merlin. So you lot think all these differences and such are signs that we're alive, too?"

"It's a fair assumption, mate," said Ron. "Fits what we know."

Harry stood and paced, shaking all over. "Maybe so, but what does that mean? Even if you're right, then what? How do we leave the portrait? I don't think I want to try making a portal to the in-between again. I doubt it would work, and it might hurt us both."

Severus shuddered and went to his mate. "No. Merlin, no." He gathered Harry into his arms. "Do we truly need to leave? We are happy here."

"That's up to you," said Hermione. "We miss you, but, ultimately, it's your decision."

"It's moot at the moment as we don't know how to leave even if we wanted to." Harry leaned against Severus' chest. "And I'm not sure I want to either. I love you all, of course, but the fawning fans, the disgruntled stalkers, and the Ministry arse-kissers? Not so much."

"We do understand, boys," said Minerva with a sad smile. "Either way, we will help you as much as we can."

"Thank you." Severus rubbed Harry's shoulders absently and stared across the room. "There is still something I do not understand, however. Albus, you said you laid protections over our lives, but you never explained what those protections were. Perhaps that might shed further light on the situation."

Albus nodded and stroked his beard. "Ah, yes. Remind me of what happened on the tower, Severus. After Draco backed down and you—"

Severus flinched, and Albus gave him a sad smile.

"No, Severus. I was the one in the wrong to have forced such a terrible task upon you, not you. Let your guilt go. You acted as an agent of mercy and protection that night, not a criminal. Forgive me one day, if you can, and forgive yourself. You were never at fault."

Severus slumped against the wall, and Harry scooped him into his arms.

"It's all right, love. You're a hero. My hero, yeah?"

Severus gave him a wan smile. "Always."

"Yeah." Harry rubbed Severus' back and waved Albus on. "Just skip over that part, okay? We know, and it hurts Sev. So what's significant about the tower then?"

Albus rubbed his beard. "It is quite simple, my boy. Harry, you had the protection of the rite of blood given by our sacrifices—Severus' freedom and my life—and you, Severus, had the ownership of Tom's wand. It should not have worked against you in the end."

Severus reeled back a step. "I had—how in Merlin's name do you suppose that to be the case, Albus?"

"Well, as it is not necessary to kill the owner of a wand to claim ownership—simply disarming them with intent to kill or harm them will give one the upper hand—and Tom claimed my wand from my tomb shortly after my death, you should have been protected. The Elder Wand does not relinquish her owner lightly, either. When I relinquished my wand to you that night on the tower, you became the master of the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in the world and the wand Tom stole. I don't understand why it worked against you."

"By Merlin. Of all the convoluted…." Severus groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "There are two massive problems with your theory, Albus, the first being that the Dark Lord had no need of his wand to end me when he had his venomous, lethal pet floating behind him like some macabre caricature of a party balloon, and the second being that I did not disarm you. By the time I reached the tower, Draco had already done so."

Albus winced. "Oh. My memory of that night is unclear. The—the potion, you know, and the curse—I'm afraid I wasn't at all at full capacity. Severus, I—"

"Wait." Harry took Severus' hand. "I disarmed Draco during the battle, so I reckon it might have passed ownership to me, but since Sev and I are soul bonded, could the wand have recognised some tie to him still? Maybe not enough to save him outright, but enough to stick him in a portrait?"

Severus shook his head. "I had no intent to harm you or keep your wand that night, Harry. It is possible it may have recognised the link in our souls, but given how antagonistic you were towards me at the time of my death, I think it more likely it would have seen me as a threat."

Harry winced. "Oh. I—god, Sev. I'm sorry."

"Shh. You have nothing to apologise for." Severus smoothed Harry's hair and sighed. "So it appears Harry was well-guarded, but I…."

Albus let his head droop. "Oh, my boy, I tried to spare you, but I never manage to protect you very well at all, do I?"

Severus closed his eyes. "It is of little consequence. You sheltered and defended me when I had nowhere and no one, and Harry and I are content. Do not torment yourself, Albus. We all did what we could."

"Protection or not, it isn't hopeless," said Minerva. "There is one possibility the others haven't mentioned yet. I admit it doesn't explain everything, but in our research, Hermione discovered that magical birds have… ultimate powers of sorts. Abilities that cost them dearly but have immense power. Each species has a unique gift, and for phoenixes—like Fawkes, who loved you both dearly—it is to bring souls on the verge of death, or even just beyond it, back into the realm of the living."

She sighed and rubbed her brow. "The problem is that we cannot explain how you ended up in a portrait, nor why Harry was transported here as well when, by all rights, he never died. Not at the time we believed him to have gone on at any rate."

Harry stared at Fawkes' perch, left in the office as a memorial and in hopes the bird might return one day. "Do you reckon I could call him? If my patronus got through, maybe he could hear me somehow."

"Not likely given he was Albus' familiar," said Draco. "They only respond to their masters."

Harry's heart thumped. "And phoenixes are immortal, right?"

"Well, after a fashion," said Albus, eyes twinkling. "Give it a try, my boy. Phoenixes have very long memories, you know."

"But…." Draco stared between them. "Albus, I don't—"

Ginny pressed her hand against her lover's chest. "Oh my god. The Chamber! Harry, you called him then."

Harry nodded. "And if my soul has lived long enough to bond to Sev at the dawn of magic, then maybe it's lived long enough to bond to Fawkes, too. And maybe, in those lifetimes Fawkes witnessed, he saw the evidence of my bond to Sev and knew our souls need each other."

"By Merlin," Minerva breathed. "Oh, I think that must be the answer, Harry! Well done."

Harry rubbed his chin. "Still doesn't explain how we ended up here and not alive on the other side."

"I believe I might have the answer to that," said Phineas Nigellus.

"You do?" Ron shrugged. "Well, we've got nothing. Let's hear it then."

Phineas Nigellus glared at him. "I was a revered headmaster of Hogwarts once, boy, and you would do well to—" A few of the other portraits snickered. "Oh, do be quiet."

"Phineas," Severus said, voice firm but not unkind. "What do you know that we do not?"

Phineas stood tall. "I was the deputy when my predecessor—" He shot the old man with an ear trumpet an annoyed look. "—Began to fear an attempt on his life. Old age and all."

The ear trumpet headmaster croaked, "Eh? What was that, Phineas?"

Phineas huffed and shouted, "Nothing, Edricus! Go back to sleep." The old man obeyed with a huff, and Phineas lowered his voice again. "Anyway, as a measure against conspirators, he and the professors gathered together to create an emergency ward designed to encapsulate the headmaster within Hogwarts should someone attempt to murder them. Albus' death did not trip the wards as it was more of an assisted suicide than murder, but the attack on Severus? I think the wards must have activated then."

"To encapsulate the headmaster against threats…?" Draco gave Hermione a grim look. "That might explain why their bodies vanished. They were in the portrait all along."

"Yeah, that makes sense," said Harry, "but why would it trap us in a portrait in the first place?" Harry frowned at his fiancé. "And why did it send me here, too?"

"It is possible," said Albus, "that the combination of unusual magics on the field that night combined to create a portrait as a safeguard. Or, perhaps, there may be even older wards on the castle we are not aware of that chose this route of protection. And, Harry, when Fawkes spirited you away to help Severus, of course you went to wherever his soul was at present."

"Why would I need to help Severus, though?" Harry kissed his fiancé lightly. "Well, I don't mind, of course, and I'm glad I'm with him, but I don't understand why Fawkes brought me here like this."

"Maybe he thought you needed to work out this bond thing to save Severus," said Ron. "If Severus didn't have the same protections you did that night, he might have needed you to keep his soul grounded here. Or maybe Fawkes didn't want him to be alone."

"I think there might be more to it." Hermione's eyes narrowed and her nose scrunched, a sign of deep concentration. "If Harry and Severus' souls are bonded, then they carry part of each other, always. Their souls are irrevocably linked. So when the wards activated—wards designed to protect the headmaster's soul and body from going on—when Severus was sent into the portrait, it summoned Harry, too, because Harry is a part of Severus, and vice versa."

"I believe you are correct, Hermione," said Severus. "It would explain why this environment was meant for two from the beginning, while the other theories do not."

"Yeah," said Harry. "I think she has the right of it, too, but we're still in the same boat. How do we get out, assuming we decide to leave?"

"We don't know exactly," said Draco, "but we think bonding will do it. And now I'm sure of it. If those wards only release the headmaster when he's entirely healed—"

"They do indeed," Phineas interjected.

"Then it stands to reason that they might read an incomplete soul bond as an injury of sorts." Draco smirked. "And if all else fails, just call the flaming chicken, Harry."

Harry snorted. "Somehow I doubt Fawkes would appreciate that nickname. And I mightn't be able to call him regardless."

Ginny ran her hand along the perch. "It's worth a try though, isn't it?"

Harry searched Severus' eyes. "I think we need a night or so to talk about it."

Severus nodded.

"Then we'll let you have some time, boys." Minerva led the group to her door. "Whatever you decide, we'll support you."

Severus inclined his head. "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you from me as well." Harry bid them all goodbye, and, in the lull, sank against his partner with a shaky sigh. "What do you think we should do?"

"I… don't know as of yet. Come, let us work in the glass room awhile. We need time to think."

Harry gave him an uncertain smile. "We could make our rings, yeah?"

Severus did still want to bond, didn't he?

"An inspired idea." Severus kissed Harry softly and smoothed his hair. "No matter what happens, Harry, I love you and always will."

Harry relaxed and slid his hand into Severus'. "Then let's go. I've a few ideas in mind for yours already."

Severus smiled and waved Harry on. "After you."

In the end, it was Albus that decided Severus on how to proceed. Severus had come into the study to grab a book and jumped at a call of his name.

"Albus?" He moved to the glass and frowned. "I thought portraits slept unless a living human has need of them."

"Well, not all the time," said the old man. "We do visit one another occasionally, and we help with patrols, as you well know. That said, we do sleep much more than a living human unless someone needs us, but this time, I rather needed to speak to you. Or, perhaps, you need me still, only you don't know it yet. I'm not sure how it all plays out in port—"

Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Albus. Get to the point."

"Right." Albus pushed his spectacles up and cleared his throat. "I didn't want to say this in front of the others, but there's something you should know. I've done extensive research into phoenix magic, given I had a phoenix myself. The spells stay active on you until you are healed and conscious in the living world, and—well, your situation is rather unique, my friend. I've never heard of an instance of phoenix rebirth staying active on a person for five years, but that is what we are facing, and it may have consequences you are unaware of—consequences the others won't find in a book."

Severus swallowed hard and motioned him on.

"It's just this, my boy. A phoenix's magic is pure life and renewal. While it's active on you, no death can touch you. You will not age as long as you remain under a phoenix's influence, but more than that, I suspect you may actually be younger than when you entered the portrait."

"I… am regressing in age?"

"You certainly look younger, my boy. If this is the case in truth, I think it is likely to stop at the point of maturity—perhaps twenty or so—but Harry…."

Severus' stomach dropped. "Harry is aging."

"Yes. So, I fear if you remain here permanently…."

"I will watch Harry grow old and die in earnest while I remain forever young."

"Yes. And what's more, without the bond completed, your soul might remain trapped in the portrait as long as Hogwarts exists. You could not reincarnate with him as long as you remain here."

"Damn." Severus shuddered and hugged his waist. "I—damn. I think he had half decided to stay. How do I tell him this? I…."

"No need." Harry came in from the doorway and took his trembling lover into his arms. "I sensed your distress across the house and came to see what was wrong. Now I'm glad I did." He kissed Severus lightly. "I guess we had better start transferring your manuscripts and see if we can work out how to send a few sentimental things to the other side before we bond."

Severus slumped against him. "Forgive me. I didn't want to pressure you."

"There's a difference between letting me make up my mind about loving you and not telling me that staying unbonded will ultimately end with me dead and you trapped in a portrait forever. Don't ever keep things like that from me. Please."

Severus rested his forehead against Harry's. "I would not have done. I only didn't know how to tell you."

Harry rubbed Severus' cheek. "I wanted to bond to you anyway. So it's okay with me, but I was thinking, can we fix this so we come back to this place when we're really gone?"

"I don't imagine it will be the same without magic."

"No, but we'll have the kiln and the woodworking shop, and even if we don't, we'll have each other."

Severus stroked Harry's cheek. "I'm sure that could be arranged. Particularly if you ever decide to serve as headmaster."

Harry cocked his head. "That's a thought." He shrugged. "We'll see what opportunities come. For now, let's just get started on sorting out which texts we're transferring over and get this place ready for a bonding."

"Yes. We will start with our journals, yes?"

"I definitely want to keep those. We made a lot of beautiful memories here." Harry glanced around the room and blinked hard. "I'm going to miss it."

Severus brought him into a gentle embrace. "We will build new memories, pet."

"Yeah. Yeah, we will." Harry looked up at him. "Sev, how young are you exactly?"

Severus checked his age and grimaced. "Twenty-eight."

"Merlin. You've lost over ten years in half that time."

"So it seems. We must bond soon, I think, before I end up in nappies."

Harry chuckled. "I'd wait for you, love, but yeah, let's try to avoid that. Bit messy. And weird."

Severus snorted and conjured a box. "Indeed, and to that end, place the books you want to keep in here."

"Yes, sir."

The night before their bonding day, the first snow of the season dusted the earth and turned the world white and crystalline. Severus stood by the balcony with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and watched the stars dim with the approaching dawn. His final moments as a single man left him pensive and trembling at what the future might hold outside of this idyllic world, and yet, he couldn't wait. To feel Harry's soul within his own, to feel his love and know every moment was real, to know Harry wasn't a pipe dream or a transient gift life would snatch away at any moment—Merlin, he ached for it.

He lifted his hand to the candlelight and watched the flames glint on woven vines of green and gold. The crafted glass refracted the flames into a soft glow against Severus' skin, and he couldn't help but smile. It would be all right. Harry had brought him out of the darkness and given him the light of joy again. All Severus had to do was hold on to him and fight for their love through whatever tribulations might lie ahead, and they would be fine.

Harry's tousled curls rested against Severus' shoulder, and a sleep-warmed arm nudged his elbow. "Budge over and let me in, will you?"

Severus chuckled and lifted his blanket so Harry could snuggle into his chest. He wrapped his arms around his fiancé and kissed his hair. "Good morning, love."

"Mm. Better now." Harry burrowed into Severus' arms like a rabbit, and Severus held him tighter.

"Are you ready for the ceremony, my Harry?"

Harry gave him a bright smile tinged with a hint of sorrow. "Yeah, can't wait."

"You look unhappy." Severus' heart sank at the thought. Had Harry changed his mind?

No, no. He was being silly. Harry loved him.

"No, not sad." Harry's eyes held a wistfulness Severus ached to kiss away. "Just wish we could bring this place with us. I'll miss it here."

Severus nodded and smoothed Harry's hair. "We will build a new home, my Harry."

"Hm. How will we pay for it?"

"I still have a fair hand with a cauldron. I may open an apothecary or a shop. Perhaps you might sell your glassworks. They're as beautiful as any I've seen from professional artisans."

"I could make personalised phials for your high-end potions, too. People would pay more for that, yeah?"

"Indeed. I will be glad of your support."

"Mm. You've got it." Harry lifted his head and covered a yawn. "Pardon me. What's the weather like?"

Severus motioned to the windows. "See for yourself."

Harry turned in Severus' arms and gasped. "Oh, lovely!" He leaned against Severus' chest and gazed over the twilit Scottish highlands. "It's beautiful. Do you reckon it'll hold through the bonding?"

Severus tucked the blanket around them and rested his chin on Harry's shoulder. "Hm. If we still intend to begin the ceremony at dawn. It is too early in the season for a dusting like this to last beyond noon."

"Let's take advantage of it then. We can banish the bookcases to the living room and fill this place with light. Merlin, it'll be gorgeous once I get the prism chandelier installed. Rainbows and light everywhere."

Severus closed his eyes and imagined it, Harry aglow with love and the light of dawn, and his heart tumbled. Gods. The mere thought left him breathless.

"A brilliant idea. If you will begin on the bookcases, I will gather the best of the camellias and ranunculus from the forest and bring in some of the red roses from greenhouses. They will look lovely together, particularly with some evergreen branches and ferns to complement them. A few duplication and stasis charms, and we will have all the flowers we could desire."

Harry grinned. "Perfect, but add these where they fit." He summoned a bouquet of colored and clear glass peonies and passed them to Severus.

"Oh, Harry. These are lovely." Severus gave him a soft smile. "We are keeping some of these."

"Of course." Harry kissed his cheek. "Okay, love. Go get our flowers and I'll get this room in order. Then we had best hurry and get dressed. There's not much time."

"Yes." Severus rubbed Harry's cheek and hurried off to the forest. In fifteen minutes, he had gathered all the best forest flowers he could find, supplemented with a spray of purple balloon flowers discovered on his way back. A quick trip to the greenhouses later, and his arms ached a bit under the weight of his bounty. The smell was heady.

He returned to a room with French windows across half the walls and twilight spilling onto the hardwood floors. Harry had moved the furniture to make room for a dais and the lattice arch he and Severus had crafted for their bonding day. He had woven a few of his glass flowers through the lattice and hung his prism chandelier before the eastern windows, and a red runner carpet trailed from the arch to doors on either side.

Severus' breath caught at the transformation. "Merlin. I cannot wait to see what this looks like in the sunlight."

Harry beamed and levitated some of Severus' roses to the arch. "Me neither. It's perfect, isn't it? Starting our new life together surrounded by light and love?"

Warmth suffused Severus' chest and spread throughout his body. "Yes. It truly is." He kissed Harry's forehead and set his flowers on the dais. "Shall I work on the arch while you finish the windows?"

"Sounds good."

They set to work, and soon, they stood before a backdrop of frosted firs and glistening hillsides. Flowers and glassworks decorated every corner of the room, and the pale pink light on the horizon had already begun to make the place glow. Molly and Minerva had come halfway through and were hard at work setting the office in order. All told, Severus couldn't believe the change a few moments had made. Thank Merlin for magic.

"This is gorgeous." Harry grinned. "Go on into that room and dress, love. Everyone will be here in about fifteen minutes."

"We'll just finish up in here while you're dressing, boys," Molly called. "Do try and tame your hair, Harry, dear."

He chuckled. "I think that's a lost cause, Mum Weasley." Harry kissed Severus lightly. "You okay?"

Severus' smile shone brighter than the dawn. "I am. Come, love. I am ready to welcome our future."

Harry gave him a soft smile and darted into his dressing room. Severus gazed after him an instant and let slip a quiet sigh.

"I'm happy." Simple as the words were, they spoke volumes for him. He checked the room one last time, adjusted one of Harry's glass flowers to a place of better prominence, and made his way to his dressing room.

For once, he looked forward to the joy ahead without fearing the cost. They had each other. Everything after that was easy.

Harry stood on the dais under an arch full of flowers and hand-in-hand with his lover. Albus performed the ceremony with twinkling eyes, and Hagrid sniffled into his spotted handkerchief. Ron grinned, Hermione beamed through tears, Draco watched with bright eyes, Minerva dabbed her eyes and held her hand to her chest, and Ginny smiled—no trace of jealousy or regret darkened her eyes, only joy for her friends.

And Severus looked at Harry as though his smile was his entire world. He couldn't help a few tears or keep his hands steady, but Harry loved him all the more for it. The man had never looked so beautiful as he did then, dressed in navy formal robes and with his long hair held back in a reinforced-glass and silver clasp he had made himself. Harry beamed up at him through tears of his own and gave his vows with a heart overflowing with love and joy.

Dawn broke just as Severus completed his vows. Harry took in the wonder of Severus glowing in the radiance of dawn, rainbows in his hair and eyes golden and bright, and his breath caught.

"Severus… Merlin."

Severus touched Harry's face, eyes wide with awe and brimming in emotion. "Gods help me, you are so beautiful."

"So—so are you." Harry slipped his hands into Severus' hair. "Are you ready to go home, love?"

Severus rested his head against Harry's. "As long as you are with me."

"Kiss me then and join your soul to mine."

"Harry…."

Severus tilted his lover's chin up and kissed Harry with trembling, soft lips. Harry opened to him, and, amidst the cheers of their friends and family, Severus' soul finally joined with Harry's. Harry surged into his kiss with a sigh. Finally complete, finally home. Merlin, it had been a long, arduous journey, but he would do it all again to have his dear Severus in his life.

He had done it before, after all. Time and time again, they had met, fallen in love, and bonded, and they would do it again a new way when their time in these lives ended. Harry no longer feared death knowing his Severus would be there for him in the future, in a new body and with a different name, but still the same beautiful soul he had loved a thousand times before.

Flashes of lives gone by flickered before him. Throughout a thousand different bodies, names, and experiences, their love had never wavered. Each time, each life only made the bond stronger. No matter what their future held, they would have each other, forever.

The past faded, leaving nothing but this moment, this perfect instant in the fabric of time, and Harry moved back with a tear-bright smile.

"I hope to do this another thousand times, my love."

Severus tucked him into his arms. "A thousand ways, a thousand lives, a thousand bonds, and in the end, it was only ever you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean." Harry let Severus' emotions shine through him. "When do you suppose the wards will—"

A surge of bright orange light blinded him, and Harry clung to Severus, body and soul.

It was time to go home.

A flute trilled—or was that Fawkes?—and a surge of warmth and Severus' undying love washed him away.

Severus opened his eyes in a strange, white version of King's Cross Station, naked and lying atop a warm body.

"Harry?"

"Right here, love. You okay?"

Severus rolled off his husband and sat up. "I think so, but where are we?"

Harry stood and smiled. "The in-between." He closed his eyes, and their robes appeared on their bodies. The box of those precious belongings they wished to carry with them into the real world appeared before him with a handful of Harry's glass flowers and the prism chandelier on top. Harry added them to the box, sealed it, and shrank it for travel. He tucked it into his pocket and warded it in.

"Well, that's that. Come on, love. Take my hand, and I'll guide you home."

Severus smiled and let Harry help him to his feet. "Lead the way."

"Every time."

Harry laced their fingers together and walked towards a shimmer of orange light and the soothing trill of phoenix song. Severus held his hand tightly and followed him into the light and the world they had left behind five years ago. Then, everything had seemed hopeless, but now, their futures lay before them, each with its own challenges, but nothing he couldn't overcome with Harry beside him.

Harry stopped before a bright glow and took a deep breath. "This is it, love. You ready?"

Severus brought Harry into his arms. "Take us home, beloved."

"Yeah. Hold on to me."

"Always."

Severus squeezed Harry's hand, still entwined with his, and reached for the light.

"Move back, give them some air!" Minerva's sternest tones woke Severus from a sound sleep.

"What? Oh. Harry?"

Severus' husband groaned and curled into his side. "It's too bloody early."

Ron, standing just ahead, gave a tear-thick laugh. "Well, whose fault is that again? You're the one who dragged us out here at the literal crack of dawn to witness your bonding, mate."

Severus sat up, guiding his husband with him.

"Oh. We are home?"

Hermione laughed and hugged him tight. "Obviously, Severus."

He chuckled and embraced her. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

"Hah! It really is a miracle," Draco said with a snort.

"Welcome back, boys," Minerva said, her voice unsteady with emotion but her eyes brighter than Severus had ever seen them.

Harry grinned. "Oh, Merlin. We really did it!"

"Of course we did," said Draco with a tear-thick chuckle. "Did you expect anything less?"

"Prat!"

Severus chuckled, and a hundred pairs of arms caught him up, a hundred hugs and kisses and joyful laughter to welcome them home. Merlin, he had never known so much love.

A soft lilt of a phoenix set Severus at ease. "Fawkes?"

The bird flitted onto his shoulder and chirped.

"Thank you."

Fawkes answered with a happy trill, and Severus let the joy of his greeting, their family and friends' devotion, and his husband's love sing to his soul. They were home, at last, and the future ahead of them was bright.

Severus guided his husband into his arms and welcomed the rest of his life with a smile. However it passed, he had a thousand more lifetimes with Harry to come, and he looked forward to the journey. With Harry at his side and in his soul, he would enjoy every moment.

Minerva entered the office the next morning with a habitual greeting for Harry and Severus. The silence gave her a pang, half joy, half pain. That the boys had started their lives together in Dover filled her heart with joy, but, Merlin, she would miss them. With a sigh, she moved to the frame where Harry and Severus had spent the past five years, expecting to see a blank stretch of wall or an empty frame—even with the spells she and the others had placed on the frame to secure it as a resting place for her boys, the canvas wouldn't appear until after their deaths—but it seemed Hogwarts still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

The canvas, double the size of the other portraits to make room for two, hung where it always had, and Harry and Severus' painted forms sat within, curled up together on their study bench and fast asleep. She pressed her hand to her mouth and blinked back happy tears. They couldn't talk to her, but at least she had a reminder of their presence and the reassurance that they would all grace these halls together one day.

A knock at her door made her jump. "Enter."

Hermione stepped into the office, her eyes sympathetic. "How are you holding up?"

Minerva waved her over. "I was rather sad, but now…."

Hermione came to stand beside her and gasped. "Oh! It's still here?"

"Apparently. I think they will sleep until their time in this life ends, but it is nice to know they are still here and they will get to keep their home."

Hermione gave the portrait a sad smile. "I don't like to think of them dying. It—it was so painful to lose him before, and now Severus is as much my brother as Harry. I don't want to lose them again."

Minerva gave a quiet laugh. "You might always take over as headmistress one day. You certainly have the ambition for it."

"True. I still don't like to think of their deaths, though."

Albus chuckled. "Don't you know by now, dear girl, that death is only our next great adventure?" His smile softened. "We will meet them again."

Hermione pressed her hand to her heart and nodded, eyes still too wet, but happier now. "Yes. You're right. Death isn't the end."

"No." Minerva touched Severus' painted hand where his bonding ring glinted in the morning light, a symbol of a bond that even death would never break. "It's only the beginning."