The Curse of Charon

Chapter Eight

'And remember when I moved in you,

The Holy dark was moving too,

And every breath we drew was hallelujah.' - Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah.

Harry managed to catch up with Draco two days before the train left, having heard through Hermione that he intended to return to the Malfoys' estate for Christmas. Harry found him in his room, neatly folding various articles of clothing and stowing them safely in his trunk.

"I heard you were going," he said softly, leaning against the frame of Draco's door, which was slightly ajar. "Hermione told me." Draco looked up.

"Yeah. I met Granger in the library a few nights ago. It was...sort of nice, actually. Very refreshing to talk to someone who seems to think like I do." Harry nodded.

"I knew you'd like her. Hermione's like that. She reminds me of you in a way. I sometimes feel that she's wasted on Ron and I, most of what she says goes right over our heads, and I dread to think about what goes on in her mind."

"I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I'd be willing to talk to her again. It's a funny old world, Harry. A funny old world."

"Why the hell are we talking like a pair of old men?" Harry asked with a laugh, and put his hands around Draco's waist. "Can't you forget about packing for tonight?" Draco slipped Harry's hands off himself.

"Not tonight. I have to stay focused on the task in hand. But I was thinking that maybe we could get together tomorrow night, you know, before I leave for Wiltshire. It might be nice."

"That sounds lovely," Harry replied with a smile. "I was so afraid I wouldn't find you in time. I'll meet you at seven, outside the front doors. Will you bring something tomorrow that I can remember you by over the holidays?"

"I'll give you something that you won't forget about in a hurry," Draco replied, with a look that suggested a secret surprise. "Wrap up warm, though."

"Will do!" Harry called from the corridor, and then hurried back to his own dormitory, anxious not to be seen by any of the Slytherins.

*

Draco was not alone in packing that evening, although few other students were as dedicated to the boring task. Ginny had given up on her trunk a long time ago, and was now curled up on her bed, her diary open on her pillow, lightly sucking the end of her quill. It wasn't particularly late, and her roommates were at dinner, so she was in no hurry to finish cramming her possessions into a battered, too-small trunk that had been passed down from Weasley to Weasley.

It's not that I don't want to see my family again. And it's not that I don't want to stay for Christmas with Ron, Hermione and Harry. I was just so excited about the possibility of seeing him again, maybe when there were less people around, maybe when there was more chance of us being alone, that the whole holiday has become a sort of anticlimax. He's going to see his family; I'm going to see mine. He probably won't even think of me, I'll think of him only. He probably can't even remember my name; I've scratched his into my skirting board. He doesn't even like me, I fantasise about marrying him and having his children. We have nothing in common.

He'll spend the winter attending glamorous parties, rubbing shoulders with the wizarding elite. I'll be chatting with Dad about muggle appliances and will probably end up de-gnoming the garden. His holiday will be full of excitement, the most exciting thing to happen to me will be meeting Bill's new girlfriend. Yippee.

He put her quill down and read through the last page-and-a-half. Then she added something at the end.

Thank God this is a secret diary. All I do is moan.

The she wiped the pages, locked it shut, his it under her mattress and decided to go down to dinner. After all, there might be something involving chicken.

*

"And now if you could all deliver a flagon of your potion to my desk, I would be very much obliged. No, not you Longbottom. I have yet to regain the feeling lost in my toes thanks to your last disaster. Well that concludes our final Potions lesson of this term. Class dismissed."

"Wow," said Harry, once they were safely out of the dungeons. "Snape didn't seem on top form today." Everything the Potions master had said had been in the same flat, empty tone, lacking even in his usually prided sarcasm and coldness. He had been far less vigilant and observant than usual. In fact, a paper aeroplane fight had broken out at the back of the classroom between a couple of the rowdier Slytherins.

"I know," Hermione replied. "He was even less mean than usual to Neville. In fact, he was only a few steps away from being kind when he spilt his arrowroot essence."

"Thank God that's over for another term," Ron said when they reached the common room, flopping down in a comfortable chair. "I know what you mean about Snape, though. He didn't even set us any homework!" Looks were exchanged between the trio.

"Maybe I should go down later and see if he's all right," said Hermione, her voice rising a little in panic.

"Oh just leave it," said Ron, with a little contempt in his voice. "He's probably just tired. Or lonely."

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Or maybe he's finally realised why no woman would so much as look at him twice." Ron laughed at this too.

"Good one, mate!" Hermione made a huffing noise.

"I think you're being awfully unkind!" she said, in a voice whinier than she had intended it to be.

"This is Snape we're talking about here, Hermione." Ron said, sitting on the arm of her chair and placing a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder. "If anything we weren't unkind enough." Hermione lifted his hand off, got up and pushed him off the arm of the chair so that he fell into the seat. She stomped out of the portrait hole.

"What was her problem?" Ron asked, eyeing Harry in disbelief.

"I think you took it a bit too far, Ron," he said. Ron was speechless.

"No way! She completely overreacted. It's not my fault. I mean, come on! You don't think it's my fault, do you?" Harry said nothing.

"Oh great. So you think it's my fault too? Well that's just wonderful, isn't it?" Harry looked at him.

"What are you looking at?" he continued, his face growing red as he became more and more flustered. "You can just get stuffed!" Ron followed his girlfriend's lead and left the common room, muttering angrily to himself. His shoulders hunched and tense. Harry said nothing, and only sat there, an expression of disbelief on his face.

*

The night was cold, crisp and clear, with none of the storm clouds that traditionally grace December skies. Bane could see the vapour of his own breath condense and cool against the woodland backdrop as he surveyed the skies. His fears of weeks before had still not been placated; the moon was as bright as ever and the stars had joined their celestial sister in her glowing.

Ronan had been wrong in what he had said before. Nothing obvious had come of the moon they had seen. And now that the stars had joined in with the burning, it seemed to mark more of a bond. An unlikely conjunction of two previously separate bodies that were soon to become one. He would stay up all night and watch for developments if he had too. Maybe he would stay up anyway.

*

Harry had done as Draco had instructed and put on several extra layers, believing that the blonde Slytherin's cryptic request had meant they would be spending some time out of doors. Still, it was rather chilly.

He spotted Draco immediately, hovering between a pair of statues on the gravel path that led away from the school. Characteristically of winter, it was already fairly dark, the only light sources being a few torches bracketed to the bare exterior walls and the soft glow of light reflected from the windows. Far off in the distance, these same windows gave the lake a small glimmer, which detracted from its vast blackness. Overhead the moon and stars were unusually clear, and only a few clouds hovered low in the sky.

"Draco!" he called softly, and almost fell down the few granite steps in his haste to meet with him. "I'm glad you came!"

"Not as glad as I am," Draco replied, the same secretive, suggesting smile faintly gracing his pale lips.

"Do you have something for me to remember you by?" Harry asked, as the other boy held him closely.

"I have something to show you, yes," he said, and began to walk across the lawns in the direction of the forest. Harry muttered "Lumos," and followed him.

They finally reached the edge of the forest, and Draco made to enter it when Harry stopped him.

"Do you know where you're going?" he asked, his hand pulling on the material of the other boy's shirt.

"Of course I do. Don't worry, it's not far from here."

It wasn't; after only a few minutes of clambering over weeds and old gnarled roots they reached their destination. It was a glade, a clearing in the woods where the heavens could easily be seen through the fairly large gap in the trees, although it was flanked on all sides by huge, awe-inspiring conifers. The floor was densely covered in moss and woodland grasses, although a few semi-rotten logs lay where they had fallen. Harry was speechless. The sheer beauty of the place, combined with the company and the moonlight had made him light-headed. Draco smiled indulgently at the look on his lover's face.

"You like it?"

"I love it," Harry said softly, breathing in the damp smell of trees, mingled with the delicious coldness of the air. "How did you find this place?"

"Oh, I just came across it on one of my wanderings," he said, examining his watch offhandedly, whilst inside he was secretly delighted that Harry liked the place.

"It's so calm, so peaceful, so beautiful. I won't forget this. Thank you so much."

"This isn't it," Draco replied, his smile more secret and suggestive than ever. He leaned over to Harry and whispered. "This is only the beginning." With a complicated flick of his wand the cold began to vanish and a lovely warmth spread over Harry's body. He began to take off his jumpers until, like Draco he wore only trousers and a shirt.

"This is what I want to show you," Draco whispered gently, undid the first few buttons and gently stroked Harry's neck and collarbone. "The only thing here more beautiful than the scenery is you." He took his own shirt off, and Harry gasped as Draco stood shirtless, the moonlight playing on his silvery hair and translucent skin.

"You're so beautiful too," Harry said softly. "Why am I not surprised? Why do I want your body so much right now?"

"I've waited so long to show you this, Harry. I want everything to be perfect."

*

Lying on the forest floor,

The smell of pine-trees in your hair,

We are the only people here,

We are the only ones who care.

Softly floating on the breeze,

The smell of night, the stars above,

We are the only people here,

The only ones who share this love.

A feather touch, a steely hand,

Gently stroking my soft skin,

We are the only people here,

We lie, and breathe each other in.

Quickened movements, pounding, thrusting,

The forest alights to our murmurs and stumbling,

We are the only people here,

And the whole world moves to our perfect fumbling.

Lying on the forest floor,

Panting, in the cold night air,

We are the only people here,

We are the only ones who care.

*

Whilst Harry and Draco shared a love so strong that they each believed it would kill them, in another part of the forest the centaurs witnessed a magical sight. The sky lit up, and the moon and stars blazed more than ever before. Then some of the heavenly orbs seemed to explode, scattering their particles into clouds of nebulae.

"It has come to pass," Bane said. "The two bodies have fused together and become one."

*

Remus was not looking forward to the holidays. He would of course remain at school, since although he had a home to go to it was to big, and too empty, and every room echoed with memories that hurt him more than any blow or cut could.

Then again, the alternative was hardly better. Putting on a brave face for Harry when he really wanted to lock himself away and cry. Laughing half-heartedly at Albus' awful jokes at Christmas lunch. Being told by Minerva that he really ought to eat more. Having to listen to Severus telling him to cheer up and find a nice girl, without the luxury of being able to sob into the gravy boat. Smiling and laughing and dancing and jokes and games and noise and colour and aromas and flavours that he didn't want to smell or taste or play or do. Christmas was going to be very tough, one way or another.

Alone again, he thought with a sigh. Naturally.

*

Severus had decided not to visit his brother as he had originally intended when loneliness had set in. He could deal with it. The holidays only lasted a few weeks, and there were bound to be people staying at the school. Albus and Minerva always made him feel very welcome, and there was usually entertainment in the form of the headmaster's brother Aberforth who generally turned up just before lunch and by the time the meal was done was so drunk he could hardly stand up, and better yet believed he had the gifts of song and dance. That was always amusing, although the poor man had never quite recovered after those goat-related allegations.

Then again, a few weeks were a very long time if he was on his own for most of them. Maybe he should carry out the advice he had often given Remus Lupin and go into Hogsmeade and find a nice girl. Hell, a weekend at a brothel would be better than being on his own. Actually a weekend at a brothel would be pretty good anyway.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knocking at the door.

"Come in," he said, with the air of the world-weary. The small, (and in his most private opinion rather pretty) from of Hermione Granger appeared from outside his door.

"Miss Granger," he said, with uncustomary good cheer, and rose from behind his desk to bow. "How can I help you?" He sat down again. Hermione looked unnerved. She was not used to Snape being anywhere near this good-tempered.

"Y-y-you seemed a little d-d-distant in our lesson t-t-today, Professor Snape" she stuttered, caught off guard by his good humour. He flashed his teeth at her in what appeared to be an attempt to smile.

"My mind was elsewhere. You see, I had considered paying a visit to my brother this Christmas, but decided not to. I suppose I must have been mulling over my decision during your lesson. My apologies, Miss Granger." Hermione looked even more stricken.

Holy shit, she thought. I think he's trying to be charming!

"You needn't apologise, Professor," she said, trying to regain her composure. "I was merely worried about your health?"

"My health?" he said with a hearty laugh. "I am in excellent health, Miss Granger. Thank you for your kind concern."

"I am glad to hear that, Professor," she said, and an idea implanted itself in her mind. If Snape was being charming, she might just have to let herself be charmed!

"It is hot in here," she exclaimed, and unfastened her robes. They fell to the floor, and beneath them she wore a blouse, her school tie and a short muggle-style skirt. The outfit was rather skimpier than usual; it had been intended for the benefit of Ron.

She crossed the room to where he sat at his desk and perched atop it, a fair amount of bare, slender thigh showing. Snape's eyes widened, but he made no other concession to her strange behaviour. Who said he had to be lonely all the time?

"Those certainly are fine legs you have there, Miss Granger," he said, and ran his long, flexible fingers down the one closest to him. "Make sure you take good care of them."

"I will," she replied, batting her eyelashes at him and fingering a few strands of his hair. It felt silky and looked less greasy. "Have you washed your hair?"

"I have," he said. His voice was deep and inviting.

"It suits you," she replied, her voice also lowered and husky. She leant over the desk and sniffed it delicately. "It smells nice." Snape was appalled. A little light flirting was fine, just for fun at Christmas, and he had always found her very attractive, but getting so close was entirely inappropriate. He tried to fight the primal urges that had taken him over, but failed. As she drew her face away from his, he reached out and pulled her closer, kissing her passionately on the lips when their mouths met. She made no attempt to resist.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Granger," he said, when she finally let go. The full horror of what he had done had struck him immediately. He had kissed a student. A student!

"I'm not sorry at all," she said naughtily, and jumped lightly off his desk, swaying her hips a little as she headed towards the door.

"Goodnight, Professor," she said as she left the room. When she was gone Snape buried his head in his hands.

"Oh my God," he said. "What have I done?"

Outside in the cold corridor, Hermione leant against the wall.

"Oh my God, she said. "What have I done?

*

"That was amazing," Harry breathed softly into Draco's neck as they lay, cuddled together on the floor. "It was so wonderful. I want to capture that moment forever and keep it in my heart." Draco smiled lazily, feeling the coolness of the air wash over him as his spell faded into the depths of the forest.

"We can't stay much longer," Harry said wistfully. "Even though all I want to do is lie here, in this perfect bliss, with you beside me for all time."

"We really should go. I don't want you to catch pneumonia."

"Don't worry about me," Harry said, looking at Draco's ribs. Then he caught sight of his own.

"I feel better than I have in a long time," Draco offered, noticing his lover's glances. Harry nodded and grinned.

"Me too. I feel like I'm alive again."

"Exactly," said Draco, pulling his clothes back on and heading towards the edge of the clearing. Harry was still standing in the centre, his shirt unbuttoned to the waist and his hand clasped to his heart. "Come on, we really must go."

"I have to savour this moment," he said, and a few tears rolled down his face, glinting in the light of the moon.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked, turning back to face Harry.

"I'm fine. I'm so happy it hurts.

"Lost a part of yourself?" he asked, with a look that suggested he knew exactly what Harry meant. Harry smiled almost sadly, and turned back to face the moon, his thin fingers still clutching at his chest.

"Definitely."