Love Potion HP

Chapter Eighteen: Moonlit Broomride

There was a good deal of screaming and angry declarations, none of which were directed at anybody in the room, then after about two hours, everyone calmed down considerably.

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Sirius, trembling. "If I had known-"

"You couldn't have," Severus replied. "Polyjuice isn't supposed to do this. It can't do this."

"How- how can I get it to go away?" Harry asked.

Severus shook his head. "You can't. In time, it will fade, but it will always be there."

Sirius turned to him. "How did this happen?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "Voldemort must have sensed the Mark leave me when I took the Polyjuice and then sensed it appear on Harry. He could have used an enchantment that would make it remain upon him after the Polyjuice wore off."

"But wouldn't I have felt it?" Harry asked. "In the dream, it hurt."

"It doesn't have to hurt. Voldemort designed the spell so that it would, but the pain wasn't necessary."

"But my scar didn't-"

"You did not have your scar then," Severus reminded. "I did. And I didn't feel anything from it."

"What we do now?" Sirius questioned.

"The only thing we can do. Confess everything to Dumbledore." He dropped his face into his hands. "My career is over."

Harry began, "We don't have-"

Severus's head popped straight up. "Don't try being noble!" he snapped. "This is my fault-"

"No, it's mine," Sirius interrupted.

"It doesn't matter!" he declared. "The only thing that really matters in this Potter. He defeated Voldemort once and he will be the one who finishes him in the end. I do believe that!"

Harry looked at him miserably. "But now that I have this..."

"As long as you can keep it out of sight, it's an advantage. You'll be able to tell when the Dark Lord summons Death Eaters and when he directs dark energy at you," Severus said, reaching into his robe. He took out a bandage and tied it around Harry's arm, then stood up. "I'm going to go make dinner and tell Dumbledore you're staying here tonight. Tomorrow... we'll wait until tomorrow to tell him about this." With a resigned sigh, he left and entered the kitchen.

"Will Dumbledore really fire him?" Harry asked Sirius.

"I don't know," he answered. "But that's not really the issue. Harry, I'm very afraid for the both of you."

* * *

Dinner was tense and silent. No one ate much; Severus twiddled with his fork, Harry was too queasy with nerves to contemplate food, and Sirius was too full with guilt to stomach anything else.

This is all my fault, he thought. Just because I wanted a day trip out of the house. I promised James I'd take care of him, and now look what's happened. I missed the first thirteen years of his life and now this...

And that was to say nothing of the possible repercussions for Severus...

After the plates were cleared, Sirius converted to sofa into a bed for Harry, then retired upstairs with Severus. Remaining robed and chaste for the evening in case his godson needed them, they merely lay in each other's arms.

Severus, as usual, drifted into slumber first, as close to peace as he ever came. Sirius felt the rise and fall of his chest against his own and clutched his body a little tighter. He could not shake a sense of foreboding, of a darkness surrounding them, waiting to close upon them. Severus was in his embrace and that was all he wanted now, as if his hold could keep his... his lover. Yes, that was what Severus was now, his lover, and he wanted to pretend, if only for a moment, that his arms could keep him safe.

Sirius knew nothing to be certain except for this, that whatever happened, he and Severus would face it together. That was simply how it was and how it would be for the rest of their lives, however short or long that time might be. Six months ago, he would have named Severus as the most loathsome man on the planet without hesitation, but now, it was because of him that Sirius had again found a home.

* * *

Snip. Snip.

Sirius awoke less than an hour later to a strange squeak, like scissors, sounding in his ear. He opened his eyes slowly, careful not to appear to have stirred. The shadow of a figure moved across the room and reached down towards Severus's hair.

Hair? Someone was cutting Severus's hair? What for, unless...

Polyjuice.

Sirius snatched his wand from the nightstand. "Lumos!"

The figure sprung away from the light and, startled, Severus awoke. Together they stared at it, a wretch of man cowering against the wall, and Sirius felt his heart change to stone.

"Gossmere!" Sirius whispered and Severus cast the same. His night robe changed into his normal attire and he left the bed. He approached the figure coldly, with his wand aimed at its heart.

"After everything, I'm surprised you had the spine to return."

"Si-sirius..." Peter Pettigrew stuttered.

"Don't even SPEAK!" he cried. "What were you doing cutting Severus's hair? Polyjuice?"

Severus gasped. "Was that what he was doing?"

"Ma...Master..." Pettigrew stuttered. "...wishes-"

"Tell Voldemort to go to Hell!" Sirius snapped.

Pettigrew winced but continued. "- to ma-make you an offer, Se-severus."

Severus began, "I'll make no bargains with-"

"If you do no-not ap-pparate to him by to-tomorrow night," pleaded Pettigrew, "both you and Sirius will die."

"You first, Pettigrew!" Sirius declared. "Avada-"

In that instant, Pettigrew changed to a rat. Sirius immediately stuffed his wand in his pocket and became Padfoot. The vermin scurried from the room, the dog bolting after it.

* * *

"Sirius!" Severus shouted, chasing after the two Animagi. He followed them, racing down the stairs, out the front door- why wasn't he surprised the door was wide open?- and across the Hogwarts grounds.

The light of the moon was just enough that he could distinguish the silhouette of Sirius's canine form from the vegetation of the landscape. His heart pounded wildly; he willed his feet to move as fast, but they did not obey. He was not gaining on the rat or the dog; he was merely delaying the moment at which they would slip away beyond his sight, beyond his grasp, and if he lost Sirius now, it could be forever, for where Pettigrew was, Voldemort's other minions could not be far behind...

"Professor!" a voice shouted, first behind, then beside him. Hovering close to the ground was Potter on his Firebolt. "Professor Snape, jump on!"

Potter slowed down and somehow Severus managed to scramble over the broom handle.

"Hang on, Professor," Potter warned.

They shot off into the night like a comet. Severus nearly screamed in terror at the sheer speed. He clung for dear life to the only thing available- which happened to be Potter, but at the moment, he hardly cared. Panic left him too irrational to consider that Potter might have trouble guiding his broom with his Potion Master's arms wrapped around his waist like a vise.

He could only assume Potter knew where he was going; his eyes were tightly shut and he was too terrified to open them. They flew through the forest, he conjectured in the opposite direction of Hogsmeade. Potter did not dither trying to avoid the branches; tree limbs tore at Severus's robes and lacerated his skin, but he did not care, did not care what happened so long as he reached Sirius-

He felt a rush of unbridled wind and found in himself the courage to open his eyes. They had emerged from the woods into a vast open field. The Animagi were already halfway to the horizon, Pettigrew propelled by fear and Sirius by a hatred that went beyond any sense of the word. Dread slid like slime down Severus's throat and into his stomach. Even the Firebolt had been no more than a delay to the inevitable; he could feel Sirius's presence as if it were a tangible substance beside him slipping away...

I'm going to lose him. I have to do something! I'm going to lose him!

There was only one thing to do. "Harry," he croaked awkwardly. "Harry, don't be alarmed, but what I'm about to do- this could get me sent to Azkaban."

"Professor-" Potter asked half in protest, but Severus ignored him.

He cleared his mind of everything, of the whipping air about him, of the speed of his flight, of anything but Sirius and slowly released his grip on Potter. He placed a hand firmly upon the boy's shoulder to brace himself and then, summoning a courage he did not waste time wondering if he truly had, he stood up on the Firebolt. The ferocity of the wind threatening to knock him off the handle was nothing to the determination in his heart. He drew his wand from his sleeve, held it high above his head, then opened his mouth to speak in a language he had not uttered for fifteen years.

As the first syllables of the Dark Tongue grated upon Potter's ears, he gave a start and lost control. The Firebolt careened towards the earth, but it had already been close to the ground; Severus, acting purely on instinct, leapt off and rolled across the grass, then sprung to his feet. Poisonous green and black sparks sputtered from the end of his wand. A scream of pain tore into the night and Pettigrew writhed on the ground, forced by Severus's spell to revert to a human.

Severus did not stop; he continued to chant, waving his wand again and again as he threw all manner of curses at Pettigrew, occasionally spitting out a Cruciatus for good measure. Pettigrew screamed in agony, but Severus did not relent, completely unaware that Potter and an again human Sirius were gasping at him in horror. Finally, when Pettigrew had been reduced to little more than a blubbering mass of humanity, he lowered his wand.

"Shall I kill him, Sirius?" he asked.

"No," answered Sirius, with a dangerously satisfied glint in his eyes. "Allow me."

As he reached in his robe for his wand, Pettigrew screamed, "MASTER!"

Fire flared in Severus's arm. Potter gasped in pain, clutching his forehead. Streaks of light appeared and swirled around them. Pettigrew disappeared, and the world became a blur, became a centrifuge, spinning faster and faster until it exploded.