Fic: No Hiding Place book Five: High in the Sky (4/28)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Five: High In The Sky (4/28)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - May 2007
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Five: - It's time to try to save the world. Fools and idiots may be the wizards' only hope. Revenge does indeed taste strange. Kinda furry.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, total stupidity, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes and angst.

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

Part 4

Ron walked into the living room as soon as he'd kicked off his shoes, already relaxed when he'd seen Harry's shoes and robes, but needing to see him anyway. "Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm here." Looking up from where he was sitting by the fire, Harry managed a slight smile. "Sorry I didn't tell you when I was leaving, you were in the middle of something and I didn't want to interrupt."

It was a very polite way of saying he didn't want to explain his sudden departure to anyone.

Most of the people probably thought he had something important to do at the house and the rest could speculate all they wanted. Snape had been right. He'd needed to get away from it all on his own and take that long shower without anyone fussing around.

"That's okay. I think we're all tired of the crowd by now." Ron had noticed how some of the Ministry people had left early as well.

He didn't know why. Maybe they had something to do, or maybe they were overwhelmed by the insane amount of people milling around the Headquarters. He'd seen Hermione rub her temples more than once, and Malfoy had slipped away over an hour ago, probably sitting in his room already.

"Yeah."

Yawning, Ron pulled his robe off, tossing it towards the couch, missing. "Well at least you didn't have to spend the whole evening listening to people argue about fighting gear." He couldn't believe how the others had been so annoyed about the whole thing. "Oh. And you should have heard Trelawney."

"Why?" Only half listening to his friend, Harry cocked his head. "Predicting death and destruction again?" It wasn't exactly a morale boost, but sometimes her somber predictions actually lightened up the mood.

It was good to find something they could still laugh at.

"Not exactly. She was doing that thing with her cards," Ron made a shuffling motion with his hands. "Muttering stuff. Then she suddenly sat up and started dealing. You should have heard her. It was weird. Kept talking about the fool going towards his doom and his followers banishing the shadow that claimed his soul or something like that. It was creepy as hell."

Harry was used to creepiness. Sometimes it seemed that there was nothing else left in the whole world.

He hoped that his old Divinations professor hadn't scared anyone with her nonsense. "Sounds really weird. Maybe I should talk to her tomorrow." The reality was bad enough, they didn't need this as well.

It still made him feel strange to say something like that, to actually acknowledge himself as the great leader everyone saw.

Ron nodded. "Sure. Whatever." He stretched and then said, "I'd better go to bed. I'm exhausted."

There was a small silence laden with all the half nasty quips Harry could make about the fact that Ron would have to decide whose bed he'd climb into. He hadn't missed the looks or the sounds, but was unwilling to say a word about it.

Mainly because it was really none of his business.

He picked Ron's shirt off the floor, briefly wondering if Sirius' mother hen attitude was contagious, before following Ron upstairs.

Trying not to laugh too hard at the sounds coming from Ron's room, he went through his evening routines and then headed to bed, tired enough to fall asleep in mere minutes.

The house quieted down soon after that.

Harry woke up with a jolt, his head hurting in a most peculiar way. He'd never felt like this before. Remembering how Aunt Petunia had always talked about her pressure migraines before thunderstorms and the weird relief that had come over her when the storm finally broke, he sat up, touching his forehead gingerly. No. His scar wasn't burning.

It was still dark outside. Harry wondered if he should go back to sleep, but already knew he'd just toss and turn if he tried. Maybe he should go downstairs to see if there was something to eat; not just the hot chocolate that never lulled him to sleep as it probably should, but something that would help him think. The day that hadn't even dawned yet would be a long one.

They were facing battles on so many fronts it was almost ridiculous. Voldemort's followers had potential strongholds all over Britain and from what Remus had told him, they were still bringing the dark creatures in. He didn't even want to mention the Dementors, shivering at the thought of engaging the hooded creatures again in a fight.

Staring into the darkness, he waited for the familiar feeling of terror to land over him at the mere thought. When it never came, he frowned.

Was he already so cold inside he couldn't even feel fear of the soul eaters?

Harry pushed his covers off. "Lumos." The floor felt unpleasantly chilly under the soles of his bare feet, and he tiptoed to get socks. Smiling a little, he chose the ones with red and yellow stripes. They were still his favorites, despite the look Snape always seemed to cast at them. Or maybe because of it.

Something was nagging at the edge of his consciousness. A memory or a thought, maybe something he'd heard over the past few days. He was feeling a bit fuzzy, but it was probably because of the weird non-headache.

He padded downstairs quietly so that he wouldn't wake anyone up. Even though he knew the hot chocolate wouldn't help him sleep, he put the kettle on stove anyway; this didn't feel like his usual insomnia, and the familiar hot drink might soothe his nerves.

The house elves were still asleep, so after drinking his hot chocolate, Harry put the cup and kettle into the sink and ran water over them. It still came as an instinct, feeling like making others clean after him was somehow wrong. Sometimes he had to wonder if he'd ever learn to relax about things like this or if he was indeed doomed.

Smiling, he grabbed the brush. The early hours always made him think foolish thoughts.

He stilled as a memory of familiar words hit him, and realized that there was indeed something bothering him.

It wasn't anxiety or a nightmare, nor was it the weird sense of being too tired to sleep. He wasn't feeling the almost overwhelming loneliness and even though he now kind of missed Snape all the time he wasn't with him, it wasn't like the need to be with him was making him stay up either.

He snorted. Yeah, some great leader he was, standing in his kitchen in the early hours of the day, analyzing something that was quite probably just a normal headache. He really was a fool.

The thought froze him, and for once he didn't feel the warm fuzzies about being called an idiot.

A fool. Doomed.

With a very unpleasant shiver running down his spine, Harry turned around and rushed back upstairs, taking the stairs two at the time. He didn't pause to knock on Ron's door, simply pushed the door open so hard it banged against the wall.

"What the hell?" The sleepy voice was joined by a terse, "Lumos!" that came from the other doorway as Draco reacted to the sudden sounds with quick reflexes and rushed into the hallway.

Harry ignored Draco's curious stare, glad that someone had enough sense to actually turn on the lights. He also chose not to acknowledge the fact that the Slytherin was so clearly naked under the sheet he'd wrapped around himself as he'd scrambled out of his bed to see what was going on.

"Is there something wrong?" Not moving his wand one inch, Draco looked around, trying to see if there was indeed something wrong and pinpoint if there were noises coming from outside. Even though there had been less reports about raids these past few days, he was not about to relax and stop worrying about the Death Eaters somehow breaking through the wards.

Pushing his way inside Ron's room, Harry didn't waste time trying to be discrete or wait until Ron had stopped struggling with his blankets. "What did Trelawney say yesterday?"

"Huh?" Finally able to sit up, Ron blinked owlishly. It was so damn bright in here! He glanced at the clock and groaned, "It's in the middle of the night for Merlin's sake! Can't this wait till morning?"

Harry stepped closer to the bed, hearing Draco follow him into Ron's room. "This is important. What did she do? What did she say?"

"I don't know... She was playing with her tarots. You know I bet she was playing solitaire or something with them." Ron scratched his head and yawned, his voice blurring. "Anyway, then she said something about the fool. Like... The fool trying to become the magician. Dealing with the devil. But that he should stay away from the tower because its shadow will only claim his soul."

Repeating the words in his mind, Harry groaned. "Bloody hell... What else?" He was sure Ron had said something more, something that had made him have a bad feeling about the whole thing.

Now Ron was looking worried as well. "I'm not sure. I think she said that the fool's followers will..." He frowned. He couldn't remember the exact words.

" 'The fool's disciples shall banish the shadow, elevating his memory amongst the heroes.' " Draco said, sounding awfully casual for someone who'd just been rudely awakened. At Harry's quirked eyebrow, he muttered, "Can't really help it if I have perfect memory."

"Good. Okay. Shit." Running his hand through his hair, Harry collected his thoughts. "Okay. I think we're in trouble."

Ron frowned. "You think?" He saw the glare, unpleasantly reminded of Snape. "All right." He could deal with this. After all, Ginny had always loved it when he read the cards for her. He knew his tarot. "The fool is someone trying to be more than he is. So that someone is doing something that's probably really dangerous. The devil is temptation. The tower represents betrayal."

"Thank you." Never really getting into anything that had to do with Divinations, Harry nodded. He was starting to feel really bad about this.

For only a moment, he wondered if he was overreacting. Sometimes dreams were dreams and Trelawney sure had a flair for making utter rubbish sound plausible. He couldn't help thinking about the only time when -- looking back after it had all happened -- her prediction had indeed come true. When Wormtail had gone to Voldemort.

"I..." Shaking his head as if he was trying to collect his thoughts, Draco mused out loud, "This can mean so many things."

Harry had to agree. "Yeah, and none of them good." There was a crawling feeling moving up his spine, and he could see from the way Draco was fidgeting that he wasn't the only one having the premonition of doom.

Yawning, Ron muttered, "You're barmy, both of you." Too bad he didn't sound like he believed it himself.

"We need to talk to Dumbledore. Both of you, get dressed and meet me downstairs." For the hundredth time, Harry cursed the lack of a floopoint in the house. They would have to hurry through the nightly streets of Hogsmeade and that would probably wake a lot of people up.

It couldn't be helped now.

By the time they were all dressed -- Harry and Ron changed from their pajamas and Draco actually wearing something -- Sirius and Remus were up too, both looking worried. The argument following Harry's decision to go to the Headquarters as quickly as possible in the middle of the night woke Hermione up too, and by the time Sirius finished yelling at Harry, they were all ready to go.

The streets of Hogsmeade were dark, but there was no need for an illumination spell. Harry hurried onwards towards the Headquarters, seeing the light shining from dozens of windows.

"Oh man..." Ron muttered. He'd hoped this was a false alarm, but honestly, he hadn't been able to shake off the memory of running down these same streets behind Harry and Malfoy and hoping that Malfoy's weird deductions had been just Slytherin suspicion and not some weird intuition.

He grabbed a better hold of his wand, knowing they were all prepared for an attack.

There was a crowd gathering outside the Headquarters, and it was clear to see that there were even more people just inside the large doors, milling around like a flock of sheep.

It made the knot in Harry's stomach tighten even more.

He ignored the greetings and the way his name was almost sobbed as soon as everyone noticed him in the middle of his friends. "Stay here." The wave of disapproval coming from Sirius hit him almost like a real blow, but he ignored that as well.

"Fine." Ron was the only one managing actual words. "Look, my dad's over there."

Grateful for small mercies, Harry cast a glance at Arthur Weasley who was standing by the wall looking more angry than pained. It had to mean that whatever had happened, the Weasleys were safe, but it was clear that something big had indeed happened.

There was a group of Aurors and other Ministry people near Arthur Weasley; people huddled together, some standing, others slumped on the floor. The devastation on their faces was terrible, most either crying openly or looking completely lost.

Harry looked frantically around, relaxing only slightly as he saw the familiar trio on the other side of the room. At least nothing had happened to Snape, Dumbledore or McGonagall. Not that he'd really thought they'd been in danger; there were many words he could use to describe them all, but 'fool' wasn't one of them.

He walked to them, moving to stand next to Snape and leaning towards him ever so slightly before asking, "What happened here?"

Dumbledore replied with equally hushed tones, "I believe the Aurors have lost some of their force tonight. Something happened that has never happened before. I felt the door open and then close again." He shrugged, as if banishing fog from his mind. Meeting Harry's completely puzzled expression, he said, "The portal between planes. I believe it was opened and then closed after the shadow passed through. The Dementors are gone."

It made Harry's eyes widen. Suddenly he didn't need any more explanations. "Fudge. Fudge did that." He'd always talked about negotiating, but could anyone be foolish enough to try to make a deal with the Dementors?

"Yes. Long ago, the Ministry summoned the Dementors from the shadows. I assume Cornelius thought he could use that as leverage. Banishing the Dementors was maybe foolhardy, but a brave deed also. One that cost him his life."

Harry had already understood that, but hearing it out loud made it real somehow. Fudge was dead. The Dementors were gone.

He wanted to curse and scream, at the same time wondering if Fudge had known this would be the most significant thing he could ever do for their world. The thought brought a wave of guilt he tried to suffocate as he looked around at the chaos in the room. "We have no Minister for Magic?"

There were so many thoughts running through his head, but this was the one thing he had to concentrate on, even though the mere words made him feel cold inside.

McGonagall let out a choked sound, but it was Dumbledore who answered, "We have no Minister for Magic."

Harry didn't dare to look at McGonagall, not wanting to see disappointment in her eyes. "We need to do something about that." Right now. It didn't matter that it was the middle of the night; most people in Hogsmeade had already heard the news from the looks of the growing crowd, and by morning their whole world would be in turmoil.

Voldemort would undoubtedly try something.

"Yes, we do." Dumbledore nodded, gesturing towards the doorway to his left. "Let's go in there and have some privacy for this."

Harry followed him without a word, glad to see that there were only a few of the Order gathering in the small meeting room instead of a huge crowd full of strangers. He already knew the rest of the night would be a waking nightmare, one of those where he found himself forced to take charge of everything and everyone, but right now he wasn't ready to pretend he was in control of anything.

He sighed as the door closed after Ron and his dad, shutting the grieving crowd outside.

"What the hell happened, Albus?" Hooch asked, her eyes glazed over as if she was in shock. "Is Fudge really dead?"

Dumbledore sat down, waiting for everyone to find a place before answering, "Yes. He is gone."

Everyone seemed to erupt into heated comments at once, the room filled with shocked exclamations. The question 'why' seemed to be repeated over and over again.

Sitting back, Harry let Dumbledore launch into a detailed explanation, listening to the words with a slight disbelief driving away the numbness inside.

He still couldn't believe Fudge had tried to do something like this. The Dementors were -- had been -- the strongest and the most unpredictable creatures one could imagine, and Fudge had tried to control them? Why?

The answer was so obvious he almost laughed. Biting the inside of his lip, he tried to concentrate on what went on in the room, on the comments people made.

He didn't say anything, but nodded at the plans. Yes, they had to move quickly, yes, they needed a new Minister by the end of the day --or preferably by the end of the night. And no, he didn't want the Order to get involved in that; it was the Ministry's job to deal with the politics.

As long as they remembered they really were at war here. It was no time for internal fights or hubris.

Arthur Weasley nodded firmly at that, even though there was a hint of doubt in his eyes.

When it became clear that they wouldn't be making any important decisions, Madam Pomfrey left the room, driven by the need to look after the well being of all the suffering Aurors. Others fidgeted in their seats, unable to leave just yet.

It was Minerva McGonagall who voiced the question that was on everyone's mind. "Harry? Are you all right?"

"I don't think any one of us is all right right now, professor," Harry muttered, taking a deep breath. He looked around, seeing the agreeing nods. "I..." There were so many platitudes, so many encouraging things he could say as their leader, and he couldn't find any words because no matter how he lied, things were not going to be better any time soon.

Sprout blew her nose in between sniffles, nodding so hard her hat fell off.

It was clear that her silent sentiments were shared by most in the room. They were the oldest Order members and the professors, all knowing what this was about. With only Harry's friends representing the youngsters here, they could show their horror and sadness openly.

Harry had to look down, unable to face such raw emotion. "I can't help but feel guilty. He had to do this because he thought I wanted his place." It was something he was getting really tired of; the endless guilt over everything.

No one said anything.

Moving silently to his godson, Sirius kept his gaze on Harry. He didn't know what to say either, but he did know what to do; he put his hand on Harry's shoulder as a soft gesture, immensely happy when some of the tension seemed to ooze away from him.

He sat there in silence, feeling that it was enough to touch. Sooner or later Dumbledore would think of something good and comforting to say, and everything would be better.

Snape stared at Harry, his gaze completely unreadable. "Fudge chose to attempt this on his own. Not because he wanted what's good for everyone, but for the more common reason. He wanted to help himself."

No one could really argue, but it wasn't really nice to talk about the dead like that. Shocked to hear Snape actually make a comment like that, people just stared at him.

"He was the Minister for Magic. Supposedly the wisest man in our world. But of course when he makes a stupid and selfish decision that gets him killed, it's all your fault. Yes, that makes sense." There was absolutely nothing but malice in Snape's voice. "Do you wish us to leave you alone so you can wallow properly, or shall we try to deal with the situation and prepare for a retaliation?"

The change in the mood was instant, even though no one still said a word. Ron was staring with his eyes wide. He'd never heard anyone say anything as cruel; figured it would be Snape saying this. Sirius' lip was slowly curling up, revealing his teeth as if he'd forgotten that he was in his human form.

Harry looked up slowly. There was a mixture of pain and anger in his gaze, but oddly, there was also determination. "You are a bastard." He had known that all along, but never as clearly as now. They might joke about Snape not being a nice guy, but it was the absolute truth.

"Crass, Potter. I would have thought better of you." Snape said it calmly; he had heard worse.

He didn't care about the silence in the room, knowing most people would like to hex him right now. They didn't really matter. Months ago, he'd held Harry tight as he'd cried his pain and guilt over deaths that were none of his fault, but that Harry Potter had had the luxury of grief, being only a teenager.

Unlike this man who had the responsibility over hundreds of lives.

He didn't know how much Harry could handle, but it was clear that his calculatingly cruel words might well be the end of the foolish attraction that had formed between them. He barely acknowledged how painful the mere thought was, concentrating on the necessity of why he was destroying everything.

Right now, coddling and hugs wouldn't help. Harry needed to snap out of the useless guilt and remorse and deal with the way things were or else they would lose everything. The only way Snape knew to make that happen was to be blunt about this and say out words that would cut deep.

Harry kept staring into Snape's eyes, trying to breathe evenly. There was still anger evident on his face, but the resignation was gone.

"There are people waiting for you. Do you want us to tell them you're indisposed?" It would spread the chaos, but not more than a weeping, guilt ridden leader would. "Sir?"

If there was something Snape mastered, it was getting the desired reaction from people. He could see his words hit Harry as if he'd slapped him, and for the smallest of moments Snape regretted that he had to be the only one in their world who was able to do this.

"No." Taking a deep breath, Harry stood up. "We have work to do." His voice was quiet but steady. With a slight gesture, he motioned at the door.

Looking relieved, people started moving out of the small room. Remus was there by Sirius' side before he could do or say anything he would probably not regret later. Ron and Hermione padded closer to Harry, wondering if he would appreciate their show of support now.

The five Gryffindors were the last people standing by the table. Even Snape was slowly moving towards the door, his shoulders hunched as if he carried a heavy burden.

"Snape," Harry said, freezing everyone still in the room. Those just passing the doorway stopped to look behind as well.

Keeping his expression neutral, Snape looked at him. "Yes?" He could feel murderous glares still aimed at him, glad that simple looks couldn't kill.

Even if death might be more merciful than whatever would come next.

Harry walked from behind the table and stepped next to Snape. He was feeling raw all over, the guilt and the pain still just below the surface, but they weren't paralyzing him anymore. Yes, Fudge had been a fool, but he was going to make sure he hadn't died in vain. "Don't ever call me sir again." His hand touched Snape's arm in a familiar gesture.

He could see the shock in Snape's gaze as he let his touch linger for a moment before walking out of the door.

Wishing he could hug Harry tight, Sirius hurried to walk by his side and muttered quietly, "Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault." He hated the fact that his words were basically the same as Snape's had been, but at least he knew how to say them gently, so that they didn't hurt.

Harry sighed, but chose not to say anything. He did know that, had known even before Snape had told him, but knowing and believing were sometimes two different things.

"Yeah." He didn't want to do this now, didn't need Sirius' kind words that were only making the guilt and sorrow bubble closer to the surface. If he allowed himself to let go of his slight irritation, he would drown under the enormous responsibility this had brought upon him.

Straightening his back, he cast a glance at Remus and then left him to deal with Sirius and his worry. He had work to do.

The rest of the night and the following day were full of urgent meetings. Aurors and other Ministry personnel kept coming to the meeting halls, needing to have the horrible rumor confirmed. People milled around in shock, no one really comprehending that something like this could happen.

Harry moved from one meeting to another, his mind completely blank. Facing the grieving people got no easier as the hours went by, but he found that he could keep his own sorrow in check. The guilt still lingered somewhere at the back of his mind, but he didn't let it gnaw on him.

Not now.

They needed to hold up the structures and find out a way to keep the Ministry running without spending days or weeks organizing an election. Fudge had ruled with an iron fist hidden in his expensive and smooth leather glove, and there was no one who was ready to step into his place.

There were those who wanted Harry to take over all Fudge's responsibilities. Harry listened to them and tried not to let out the hysterical laughter. Snape's words had indeed been prophetic in their ridiculous prediction.

He politely declined. Then had to decline again as people went from asking to begging.

Agreeing that they needed a new Minister as soon as possible, he still thought it should be someone who actually knew how to deal with their government. He wanted nothing to do with such a responsibility and said it quite clearly.

It took him a few tries to make everyone understand he was serious.

In the end, the important Ministry people -- including all the department heads, old witches and wizards and a few Aurors -- held a meeting in one off the larger meeting halls, emerging half an hour later to declare that they had chosen Arthur Weasley as the Acting Minister for Magic, effective immediately.

Harry chose not to laugh at the absurdity of that, refusing to react to the fawning looks that were seeking for his approval. It didn't matter that Mr. Weasley had probably been chosen for his close relationship with him. Harry was simply glad they had someone to lead the rest of their world while he concentrated on Voldemort.

He did however feel slightly sorry for Mr. Weasley. His position was definitely one to be envied.

Considering the reasons why Fudge had made his foolish decision to make a deal with the Dementors, it was ironic that Acting Minister Weasley's first order was to officially transfer all control over the Aurors to Harry Potter.

There were no protests. After the death of the elected leader of their world, the witches and wizards were content on handing the power to someone who worked on ending the conflict.

It was dark again when people started to leave the Headquarters, everyone looking more exhausted than in days.

Harry felt relieved, even though the strange headache that had woken him up so many hours ago had never really left him. Their world was still standing, the Ministry people already back where they belonged with their new leader and the Aurors now almost shivering with the desire to destroy the Dark Lord and his minions.

He had to admit that Fudge's rash actions had probably done more good for their fight than he'd ever thought possible.

"Harry? Are you ready to go home?" Ron asked, looking at his friend hesitantly.

Blinking, Harry glanced around, seeing that the meeting hall was almost empty now. He hadn't noticed people leaving, a true testament of how tired he was. "Yeah..." His gaze caught a familiar figure standing next to a window on the other side of the room. "No, wait. I need to..."

Ron's carefully blank expression already told him he was well aware what Harry needed to do.

Moving quietly across the room, Harry walked towards Snape's quiet form.

"Snape?"

Turning around, Snape looked at Harry, his face expressionless. "Yes?" He had been waiting for this, and even though he would have preferred to have this conversation in private, he couldn't really tell Harry to follow him to one of the empty rooms.

He cursed at his blindness and the strange need to stay here and witness his own doom.

"About earlier..."

Snape couldn't read Harry's tone, waiting for him to continue almost breathlessly. No matter how Harry's strange emotionalism sometimes puzzled him, this was truly a moment he didn't know what to expect.

He had never wanted to be the object of Harry's affections, but now that necessity had driven him to push Harry away with his words, Snape found out that he rather regretted being forced to sever the unexplained bond that had been forming between them.

Harry let a wry smile appear on his lips. It made him look as tired as he felt. "I'd like to thank you for reminding me of... You know." He didn't really even know how to put it into words, but he knew they both knew why he was thanking Snape.

The complete shock made Snape blink. He'd been preparing himself to face anger and scorn and most definitely rejection.

It was always a bit amusing to see Snape so clearly speechless, but this time Harry was too tired to really feel the amusement. He just wanted to go home and sleep for hours and wanted to do it without facing the kindness of his housemates or the compassion radiating from Sirius and Remus.

The cruel honesty in Snape was in a way easier to bear, even now.

Harry could see the shock in Snape's eyes, and realized that he was genuinely baffled by his actions, as if he'd expected a completely different reaction.

The man's incredible dedication to the Order -- his dedication to defeating Voldemort -- would come before his own needs or desires. He would not spare himself or anyone else if it was necessary. It was clear that he thought his words might have ruined everything between them.

"For Merlin's sake, don't thank me, Potter!" Snape choked out.

Harry nodded, recognizing the danger there was in their discussion, the overwhelming need to hold Snape and tell him things he'd never dared to say out loud as devastating as the guilt still lurking at the edge of his thoughts.

They stood there in silence for a moment, both feeling the curious glances on them as the few people remaining in the room kept staring at them. Harry's skin tingled with the tension, with all the unsaid things, and he wondered if there would ever be a time for him to have a private conversation with Snape again.

The war was indeed coming between them, separating them even better than any words ever could. There was no time for quiet evenings together, no place they could share now.

Harry forced himself to nod at Snape again, a curt farewell before walking out of the room.

---

Comments

[xikum.livejournal.com]

Sigh. I guess I am more than a bit dense. I truly don't see why Harry doesn't just go down to the dungeons with Snape - Regardless of if it is only to sleep, you still gotta sleep, right? They could hold each other and have at least that time. from the standpoint of having gone through awful things, even when we were too wiped out to do anything sexually, the comfort of simply sleeping together, is so restorative and strengthening - I feel like whupping Harry&Snape upside the head for their blindness in this!!

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

I don't think you're dense. :D The whole situation between Harry and Snape seems sad in the way that though no one says things, they both face everyone's expectations. Even when no one knows about their relationship.

But yeah, they're making their own lives almost impossible. Thank goodness they get over it.