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Sunday, October 24, 1998 ---- 8:13 p.m.
Harry lay back in bed, smiling. Even smirking a little, perhaps. He couldn't help it. This had been far and away the best weekend he'd ever had.
They'd spent all day Saturday as tourists in Cologne, seeing the sights. Well, after their morning in bed, that was. Harry had gone down on Severus again, and this time, he'd managed to deep-throat him without resorting to any magic. He'd nearly gagged more than once, but then he'd managed to get the knack of it again. Really, he thought he'd only had trouble before because he'd been a little nervous, wondering at first if he could get that large cock all the way in without a spell or anything to help him.
But he had, and what was even better was that when he'd got the hang of it and had begun bobbing his head up and down as Severus had relaxed on the bed, the man's cock going smoothly down his throat, over and over, Severus had almost started babbling.
Almost.
Not quite.
But Harry had thought for some time--hell, he'd started thinking it before the invocation, even--that he'd like to be able to make the man completely lose control. Sometimes Severus moaned during sex, but even then he sounded like he was restraining himself, holding back on how things really felt to him. Harry wanted Severus to shout at the moment of his climax instead of being so self-controlled. After all, Harry was often a mass of pleading, very vocal need before Severus would let him come. Harry wanted to return the favour. Actually, he wanted to make Severus feel like he was a potion about to start boiling, a potion that just needed one more stir to get there. Just one more . . . Harry wanted to be so good in bed that Severus couldn't possibly keep quiet.
And on Saturday morning, he'd got a few gasping pleas. Not enough, but it was a start.
After breakfast in bed, they'd gone out to see the town. First stop, the Cologne Cathedral. Harry had almost balked when Severus had wanted to climb the steps to the top. After all, he'd just listened to a tour guide explain that it was the second tallest Gothic structure in the world. But Severus had insisted that the view was worth the exertion, and had he ever been right. It was even more magnificent than the cathedral itself, which was really saying something, since Harry's eyes had widened as they'd toured the building. No help for it, though. He'd never been in a cathedral before, let alone one that had taken over six hundred years to complete.
Sort of sad, really, considering there were some back home that were probably just as old.
They ate lunch at a smallish pub which served knackwurst and the promised sauerkraut. Turned out it wasn't bad, though nothing to write home about, either. The Kölsch, though, was another story. Harry hadn't ever drunk much beer, apart from butterbeer, but this was really amazing stuff. Lighter than British lager, and less bitter tasting . . . Harry drank his pint down in record time, and almost asked for a second.
But considering how light-headed just the one mug was making him, he thought he'd better not. Good thing, too. After lunch, Severus took him on leisurely cruise down the Rhine, the two of them relaxing on benches in the open air and enjoying the brisk autumn air. Two beers and the swaying of the boat might have not set well with him. As it was, the motion was pleasant, blending into the muzzy feeling in his mind.
Harry leaned against Severus, twining their fingers together as the city drifted past, and sighed with happiness more than once as the boat took them down the Rhine and back.
Later that afternoon, they strolled through the market district, looking at knick-knacks and bric-a-brac, Severus making the obligatory snide comments about Harry's lamentable taste. And this time, Harry found he didn't mind in the least. Actually, spending time together like this was very relaxing, and it took Harry a while to understand why that was, actually. On all their previous trips abroad, he'd been a mass of nerves. He'd either been wary of Severus, like in Norway, or he'd been pushing himself to let the man kiss and touch him even though he wasn't ready for any of that, yet.
But now . . . things between himself and Severus seemed settled, in a way. They were lovers again, like they'd been before the invocation, only this time, Harry didn't feel like he was being shoved into everything against his will or better judgment. He felt like if he'd known Severus better sooner--ha, and known himself, too--then things might have worked out this way in any case.
Which was a daft thought, really. Harry knew that. It was only Cambiare Podentes that had pushed them together; Severus would never have given Harry a second glance if not for the prophecy insisting he'd better. And Harry would never have looked on Severus as a potential lover, either. Hell, Harry would probably have never even figured out that he liked men. Or at least, he wouldn't have figured it out so soon.
But this feeling he had now, that he and Severus could have ended up together anyway, if they'd ever had a chance to really get to know one another and work things out . . . it might be a bit daft, but there was some truth to it, too. A little, at least. And Harry found himself liking the thought. He was a slave, and there was nothing to be done about it, but if he could tell himself that he and Severus had more going for them than just the spell binding them, then the whole thing felt a lot less oppressive.
Not that Harry generally felt oppressed, in any case.
On Saturday evening they had a drink in Harry's Lounge at the hotel, then soaked together in the extra-large tub as they watched the sun set over the city. Harry didn't realise until then how much he'd missed being high up in a tower. Even Severus' upstairs rooms weren't very high compared to ones where Gryffindor students lodged.
They went out for dinner, Severus offering Harry a choice this time as to whether he'd like the finest food available in Cologne, or he'd prefer a menu he could read. Harry opted for the former. So what if Severus had to translate the menu for him, and help him choose? It was nothing like it had been in Norway, when he'd felt like Severus was criticising him every other sentence.
In short, they got on these days. They really did.
On Saturday night, Harry wanted to try again to make Severus babble with delight as Harry deep-throated him, but Severus took charge and they ended up using up the entire bottle of rosemary-scented oil that Severus had bought earlier that day. First they took turns giving each other neck-to-toe rubdowns. Then Severus lounged back on the bed and made Harry watch from a chair ten feet away while Severus poured oil all over his own balls and cock and stroked them. That was more frustrating than Harry could have imagined. It was just Severus wanking, after all. But somehow, not being allowed to join in was excruciating, the ache of it settling in his own cock and balls as Severus fondled himself.
Harry felt like he was going to die if he wasn't allowed to touch himself when Severus came.
But Severus stopped before he was that far gone, and demanded they switch places so that he could watch Harry wank. He said it was about time he enjoyed a show, since Merlin knew he'd fantasised enough about what Harry looked like in the shower.
Harry suggested a shower, then, figuring that once he and Severus were both under the spray, Severus wouldn't be able to look and not touch for long at all.
But Severus had shaken his head, refusing. No, Harry was to do as he'd been told, he said, his voice mock-stern but holding a meaning that Harry couldn't miss. Harry had asked for this, after all, had asked to be commanded so that his obedience could help them cross powers more completely.
So, bed it was, Harry propped up against a couple of pillows piled against the headboard, his legs splayed apart just as Severus directed, one hand ghosting over his left nipple even as the other took his cock in a firm grasp and stroked it up and down.
It was weird, watching Severus watch him wank, so Harry closed his eyes. Mistake, maybe. His mind started playing images like a movie for him, fantasies of himself and Severus lying in bed, facing each other, Severus kissing Harry's neck while they fondled each other's cocks. Something of what he was thinking must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew, Severus' deep voice was breaking into his fantasies.
"Tell me what you're thinking, Harry . . ."
Harry gulped a little and looked up to see Severus' dark eyes steadily regarding him.
In that moment, he came to some strange sort of awareness of himself. He hadn't been self-conscious the moment before. But as soon as Severus asked to hear what he was thinking, Harry realised how he must look, lying there splayed out naked, everything on display, shamelessly bringing himself off while Severus watched.
He felt like . . . well, actually, he didn't even know a word that fit. Slutty was a word he'd really only ever thought applied to girls. And as wanton as he might be, he didn't feel like he was acting like a girl. Just . . . brazen, maybe. Or naughty.
Harry liked being naughty, though this went far beyond what he'd thought of doing before.
He decided he liked this, too, and that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Actually, it was more like being determined than really deciding. But he was determined. Severus was his lover, and they were in this thing for life, weren't they? He was entitled to be as freewheeling as he felt like.
And he couldn't deny that being told to wank while Severus watched had been . . . well, erotic.
Harry helped himself to some more oil, then closed his eyes and tried to do what Severus had asked of him. It took a moment; he'd been thrown completely clear of his fantasy, after all. But then he felt the pressure in his balls building back up, the sensation tantalising, urging him on.
"We're in your bed in the dungeons," he said, a little bit shocked at how breathy his voice sounded, even to him. Gasping, almost. "We're naked, lying there chest to chest, cock to cock, and we're kissing. I'm opening my mouth wide . . ."
Harry licked his lips just imagining it, and wished that Severus would come over to the bed and kiss him for real. He'd love that, to wank like this while they kissed.
"Nipple, Harry," said Severus, his voice coming from much closer now. Harry could feel Severus' warm breath brushing his cheek. "I told you to play with your mark. You're neglecting it."
Oh, right. Severus really did have a thing about the mark, but Harry didn't mind. Sometimes, in his saner moments, he wondered if it was such a good idea for Severus to practically get off on that nipple ring. It was like he was celebrating Harry's slavery, or something. But since it seemed to be only a bedroom thing, no, Harry didn't really mind. Severus never had hid the fact that what he wanted to get out of Cambiare Podentes was someone eager and willing to warm his bed. And Severus had been so good about the whole slavery thing that Harry really couldn't begrudge him that enjoyment of the nipple ring, even if the whole thing was . . . well, kinky, in his opinion.
He moved his left hand to his nipple and tweaked it, pulling in a sharp breath when a few drops of oil fell onto it.
"Keep your eyes closed," whispered Severus, his breath brushing against Harry's lips, that time. "And keep talking."
"Kiss--"
"Not yet."
Harry had almost groaned in frustration. Instead, he tightened the hand he had wrapped around his cock, and thrust his hips up a bit, and began wanking more in earnest. "We're kissing," he gasped, no longer sure if he was fantasising or making a point. "Your tongue's all over mine. You can't get enough. You love kissing me, and your cock is hard and filled to bursting and you're thrusting and I'm thrusting and it's hot, it's so hot I'm on fire, but it's a good heat and I can't get enough and--"
Harry abruptly felt his wrist grabbed.
"Stop wanking."
With that, Severus firmly but gently guided Harry's hand away from his throbbing erection.
Harry ground his hips, his cock bobbing upward in the empty air, seeking something to press up against. "I'm so close, I'm nearly there--!"
"Mmm, I know," said Severus. "Eyes closed, I said."
He tormented Harry then, kissing him, yes, but not on the mouth. Harry's left nipple, and then his right as well were thoroughly nibbled and licked and suckled, while Harry practically thrashed with need.
And then Severus stretched out alongside Harry and poured the rest of the oil onto Harry and himself, slathering most of it on their cocks. Harry thought for sure they were about to act out his fantasy, cock sliding against cock while the two of them kissed.
Instead, they kissed while their hands sought out one another. It was hot and slick and somehow more intensely personal than frottage. That, Harry could let just sweep him away on a great tide, but this meant he had to keep mind of what he was doing. It wasn't Severus doing things to him . . . it was both of them, doing things together.
Afterwards, Harry had chuckled at the state of the bed. Definitely, a cleaning charm was in order. Several, in fact. Oil was a bit stubborn to properly get out.
Even after the sheets seemed crisp and new, they still smelled faintly of rosemary.
Harry smiled to himself as he lay in Severus' arms. Strange how he could feel like he was home, when he wasn't even in his own country at the moment, but perhaps that was just a measure of how comfortable he felt with Severus, these days. So comfortable, in fact, that Harry started wondering again about something that had bothered him. Something he'd pushed from his mind a week ago, but now it was back, and demanding to be voiced.
"Um . . . I know we said we wouldn't talk about it, but I really would like to know something," he murmured, tensing just a little. Perhaps it was stupid to bring it up. It didn't really matter much, not now, not after the week they'd just shared. The best week of Harry's life. Really. He hadn't realised what great fun sex could be, before. He hadn't realised he could want so much of it.
Severus' voice was sleepy when he replied. "About?"
Harry wondered how to phrase it. "Um, the brothel?"
He felt Severus stiffen in the dark, his voice growing a little caustic. "That's behind us. Or do you still suspect I'm going to--"
"No, I don't," said Harry, though secretly, perhaps part of him still wondered. That wasn't what this was about, though. He felt annoyed with himself for not listening to his better judgement. He'd known it was too touchy a subject to mention. "Never mind, then."
Harry rolled on his side, facing the wall, and plumped his pillow with more force than was really needed.
Silence reigned for a few moments, and then Harry heard Severus sigh. "What did you want to know? How much I paid?"
Harry felt a little sick, hearing that. He actually hadn't ever wondered what the prices were, and found he didn't want to dwell on the fact that Severus had wanted to pay--hell, had paid--someone for sex. Not just someone, either. Renard.
Harry kind of hated the name.
"No," he said shortly, not turning around. "I just can't help but wonder why you went there without so much as a Disillusionment charm, or anything. I mean, you're lucky I was the only one who saw you--" He decided not to mention Hagrid. " It was a Hogsmeade Saturday, for God's sake! What if a student had seen you go in there?"
"A student who knew what that building was? There's hardly a sign on the door."
Harry huffed. "Just didn't seem like you. Here we are in Cologne, where nobody even knows us, and we don't go outside the room without being disguised. But right there in practically your own backyard you stroll into a whorehouse where any student could have seen you?"
Severus paused, the silence seeming to hang between them. "Perhaps you should consider that as far as the wizarding world is concerned, there's no reason why a man shouldn't frequent a brothel if he so desires." He held up a hand. "I grant that I should have paid mind to your feelings on the matter."
Harry wasn't going to let them get sucked down that road. They'd settled all that, but that didn't mean he'd failed to notice Severus' hesitation. There was something else going on here. Harry could just feel it.
Pasting a pleasant smile on his face, he sat up to look down at his lover. "I think we'd do better here if you told me the truth. You're hiding something. I can tell. It's right there in your tone of voice. So? Spill."
Severus sat up too, crossing his arms and pressing his lips together as he leaned against the headboard.
"You're a private person," said Harry, trying for a persuasive tone that time, since rebuking Severus hadn't seemed to work so well. "So what's going on? I don't understand. All you had to do was wave a Disillusionment charm around yourself. Why didn't you?" And then, when Severus maintained his stubborn silence, "Please? Just tell me. I can tell there's something you're not telling me."
Severus gave a heavy sigh. "We're truly better off leaving it aside, Harry."
"I don't want secrets coming between us."
He got a sardonic look for that. "In this case, the truth is more likely to divide us."
"Oh, come on! You can't throw out a comment like that and expect me not to want to know more." Harry ground his teeth in frustration. "Severus? What if I promise not to be angry?"
"That's a promise you can't keep."
"Who says I can't?" asked Harry, sitting up straighter. Wanting to see Severus' expression, he snatched up his wand and cast a weak Lumos. "Didn't I promise I wouldn't hold that other thing against you, you know, the--"
"I know what you mean."
"And haven't I kept my word? Damn it, if I haven't earned your trust by now then I don't know what we've been doing all these months!"
Severus rolled his eyes.
"Don't--" Harry took a deep breath and tried again. "Come on, Severus. It's obviously something important. Well?"
"Fine," snapped the other man. "Do try not to become angry. I couldn't cast any concealing spells over myself, not that time. It would have ruined the Polyjuice."
Harry gaped. "The . . . you're having me on, right?"
Severus curled his lips into a sneer. "Would I jest about something like that? Since you seem to want a complete compendium of my activities, here it is. I'd availed myself of the brothel's offerings just once before, and on that occasion I had indeed cast a Disillusionment charm--"
"Just once?"
"Since the invocation, yes."
"Oh."
"May I continue?"
Harry almost rolled his own eyes then, but decided he'd better not. He waved a hand.
"I found the previous visit to be . . . unsatisfying. So when I went back, I brought along some Polyjuice, hoping that would make Renard more what I wanted."
"Did it?"
Severus sighed. "Not really. The experience still wasn't what I'd had in mind."
Harry clenched his teeth for a moment, but since he'd said he wouldn't be angry, he tried his best to dismiss the feeling coursing through him. This was all in the past, after all. Severus wouldn't be going back there.
Not if he knew what was good for him.
"I didn't know wizards used Polyjuice like that," he finally said, his tones strained. "Sounds . . . I don't know. Weird."
"I hadn't done it, before," said Severus, his own tones equally strained. "And won't again, obviously."
Harry gave a stiff nod and asked the question that had leapt through his mind the moment Severus had mentioned Polyjuice. "Um, so . . . who did you pretend you were with, that day?"
Severus looked at him like Harry had grown an extra nose. "Who do you think?"
It took Harry a minute to catch on. A full minute, and Severus spent the whole time just staring at him like it was bloody obvious and he couldn't believe Harry was having this much trouble working it out.
"Oh. Er . . . you mean me?"
When Severus nodded, Harry felt absolutely floored. Whatever he'd expected, it hadn't been that.
"I don't know why you look so shocked," said Severus stiffly, shifting away on the bed. "I was in torment wanting you. You, not some random willing man. You were the one driving me to distraction every day with your constant showers."
Harry covered his mouth, trying to hold in his laughter, or maybe hide it, but things were too amusing for that to work for long. Somehow, Severus going to a prostitute didn't seem nearly as bad, now. He'd wanted Harry, and he'd felt so unsatisfied with this Rene or whoever that he'd made him take Polyjuice, and even after that he'd still wanted the real thing.
Harry.
Actually, Harry felt just the tiniest bit smug about all of that. That is, until something else occurred to him. "Er . . . didn't you think this prostitute would say, notice that he'd turned into Harry Potter?"
"No mirrors."
Harry nodded, barely suppressing a smirk.
Severus drew his eyebrows together slightly. "You aren't angry."
"No. It's kind of flattering, in a way." Harry held up a hand when it looked like Severus might reply. "You made it pretty clear that you liked the way I looked, but I didn't know you liked it that much. I mean, enough to make him take Polyjuice? You must really find me attractive!"
"You have no idea."
Harry started laughing again.
Severus caught his hand in one of his own and stroked his fingers across Harry's palm. "I'd have told you this last week if I'd known it would put you in such a good mood."
"Well, it might not have then." Harry shrugged. Who knew? It might have taken some of the sting out of the whole rentboy business. He honestly wasn't sure. "I was wondering, anyway, why it took you so long to get to the brothel. I went to the dungeons looking for you that morning, and it seemed like you'd left before I did."
"You're bound to find this even more amusing," said Severus, almost growling. He meant it playfully, though. Harry could tell. "I was so excited at the prospect of having you at long last, that I took along the Polyjuice and forgot to bring a strand of your hair. I had to go back to the castle to fetch the one I'd collected in advance."
"Oh, you were excited, then," said Harry, smirking. "Not like you to forget anything. But I suppose I am quite the distraction."
"Quite," said Severus, the word very dry.
" So I guess this substitute me was no good?"
Severus levelled him a glance. "He was good, but that didn't matter. He wasn't you."
Harry felt a little let-down about the first part of that, but the last part more than made up for it. Especially since they'd put all this behind them, anyway. "I wish we didn't have to go back tomorrow. Can't we owl in sick, or something, and stay here another day?"
"You know we can't."
Harry snuggled down in Severus' arms. "Well, at least we still have tomorrow."
I'll make you babble yet, he'd thought.
And he had. They'd slept in on Sunday, then had gone to see the Picasso collection in the Museum Ludwig. Severus explained a bit about the cubist movement--he obviously found it fascinating--but Harry didn't really understand the appeal. The people in Picasso's paintings looked monstrous to him, almost like people who had been twisted beyond recognition by some kind of magical force.
Harry didn't like looking at them. They looked too much like the visions he'd had of people under Cruciatus.
The minute they left the museum, he put those awful images firmly from his mind. It helped that Severus took him on a walk through the city, visiting Romanesque churches. Harry found them calming. Peaceful.
Maybe because some of the stonework reminded him a bit of Hogwarts.
They had another fancy dinner out, this time eating in a restaurant that overlooked the Rhine, before returning to the hotel. There in the sitting room, a view of the city spread out below them, Severus conjured some instruments and held him close as they swayed to the soft sound of a jazz quartet.
Harry decided he liked dancing. A lot.
Yet one more thing he wouldn't have known about himself, if not for Severus.
A funny feeling seemed to well up inside him, then. He didn't know what to call it; he didn't even know what it was. He just knew that he couldn't think of anyone he'd rather spend the weekend with.
Harry pulled Severus closer, leaning against him, and relaxed completely.
By the time the music had ebbed to a halt, Harry knew how he wanted to end the evening. His eyes gleaming with intent, he urged Severus over to a chair and knelt before him, lovingly caressing his placket before opening it to free the man's hardening cock.
Time to blow Severus' mind. Time to show him what Harry could do.
And he could do it. Harry didn't even have any difficulty, this time. He knew the trick now, knew just how to ease that long cock down his throat. All the way down his throat. Mmm, delicious. Harry couldn't get enough of it, and now that he knew how to take it all, he could hardly believe he'd ever thought it so impossible.
His cock pulsed as he worked his way up and down Severus' long length. The feeling was so good that he moaned around the cock in his mouth, and that was when he first heard the other man's soft, keening cries.
"Yes, like that," Severus was saying, his fingers clenched on the chair's armrests, his hips jerking rhythmically as Harry bobbed his face up and down.
Yes, like that? Harry thought he could do better than that, thought that he could make Severus beg and plead and gibber out nonsense. All Harry had to do was set his mind to it. .
He took Severus to the brink of orgasm, then pulled back and sucked and licked at his cockhead while his hand played with the man's balls, teasing the taut skin just behind them. Then moving forward again, all the way forward until his forehead was pressed up against Severus' belly.
Severus gasped. "Harry--"
Harry wrapped his arms all the way around Severus and held him tight as he began to swallow around his cock, his throat muscles caressing Severus' length.
That was when the babbling began in earnest, music to Harry's ears.
He liked knowing he could drive Severus to the brink that way. Liked knowing that he was good in bed, good enough to make Severus moan and gasp and writhe and before it was all over, beg for release.
Harry let him come then, Severus' cock lodged all the way down his throat. Harry would have preferred to taste him, as he'd said, but this, tonight, it was to please Severus, who liked to be thrust completely in as his balls contracted and his pleasure came spurting out the end of his cock.
Afterwards, Harry climbed onto the bed and watched as Severus recovered. Took a while, really. Harry felt proud of that, too.
Finally, Severus rearranged his clothing, tucking his wilting cock back into his trousers.
"Kind of naughty that we never even undressed properly," said Harry. "Gives me ideas, actually. I could go down to your office when you don't have a class, and--"
"Not a good idea."
Harry laughed. "Why not? Nobody's going to ask what I'm doing in there, and even if they did, I'd just say I had wanted to discuss some Slytherin or other with his head of house." The more he thought about the idea, the more he liked it. The only real thing wrong with the past week had been the way he'd had to go without sex from morning until night. His own fault, with that stupid Quidditch schedule.
Harry could understand now, just why Severus had resented it.
"You're quite at ease," said Severus as he moved to join Harry on the bed. "Not so very long ago you were terrified at the thought that someone might jump to conclusions if they so much as overheard me asking you to pass the kippers."
"Oh, I was never as bad as all that." When Harry thought about it, though, he realised that he had been. "All right, I was pretty awful. I guess I was just still pretty alarmed that somebody might find out I was with you. And not because of you, either. I mean, I just didn't want anyone to know that I liked men that way. But . . . I don't know. It all seems pretty normal to me now."
Severus pulled him closer. "Good."
"Wish I hadn't spent so long with such arsehole relatives." Harry sighed a little. "I am actually sorry about your father, but in a way it's good to know that you can understand. Some, at least."
Harry didn't want to dwell on something so depressing, so he reached for the remote on the night table. "How about some more Simpsons or something?"
"Or something," muttered Severus.
"Hey, at least you can understand what they're saying. Tell you what, you can do a running translation--"
"I don't think so."
Ignoring him, Harry clicked the television on.
"I thought I unplugged it."
That had Harry grinning. "Teach you to stay in an expensive hotel, Severus. The maid set it right." He started flipping channels, then, looking for cartoons. There weren't any on. Too bad. Harry had been looking forward to teasing Severus more about translating for him.
He settled on an English language channel which looked to be some kind of news feed from the BBC. Shrugging, Harry settled back to watch it.
". . . and rain in the north," a pretty, dark-haired weather forecaster was finishing as she gestured at a map of the United Kingdom. "Expect scattered showers through Wednesday morning."
The scene shifted to a sombre-faced man staring straight into the camera. "We've no video as of yet, but this bureau has received several reports from the West Midlands in the past few minutes. Residents of Wolverhampton are complaining of winds strong enough to uproot trees. Several cars have apparently been damaged by falling branches, and unconfirmed reports indicate that a single house in Goldthorn Park has been completely destroyed, though oddly enough, structures adjacent on either side escaped unscathed. The residents of the house were apparently at home and are presumed dead. And now, in entertainment news . . ."
Harry muted the sound and swallowed hard before he turned to Severus. "I don't think the problems he's talking about were really caused by wind." He couldn't help but glance at Severus' left sleeve. "Your mark, has it flared or twinged or anything like that?"
Severus looked grim. "Earlier today."
Harry blew a breath out through his teeth. "And you didn't insist on firecalling Albus immediately?"
"For what purpose? It doesn't usually herald doom, and we've no other spy to send into the viper's nest."
All right, maybe demanding that Severus panic over every twinge was unreasonable. In fact, maybe Harry was jumping to conclusions. "It could be wind, I suppose," he said slowly. "Freak storm, something like that. I've heard they can pick off one house and leave the ones next door standing--"
"That newscast sounded remarkably like a Ministry cover story."
"Oh, God." Severus was right; it really had. "What do we do?"
"More to the point is what we don't do," said Severus calmly. "We don't chase after the Dark Lord just because he might be becoming more active. We wait until you're ready."
A sudden feeling of dread washed clean over Harry. "I'll never be ready. I was useless in that graveyard. Even with the twinned wands, I still needed my mum and dad to tell me what to do! And I did even worse the next year, in the atrium at the Ministry--"
Severus took him by the shoulders, his grip fierce, but somehow also comforting. "This time will be different. This time, you have me."
"Your powers, you mean," said Harry dully. "Except, I don't! What do you think, he's going to challenge me to a broomstick race? All I can do is go faster. That's not going to help unless I want to run away!"
Severus pulled him close and rubbed his back. "You'll have what you need. We'll keep working on it."
"But--"
Severus abruptly stood up, pulling Harry with him. "I propose we make our way home so we can speak with Albus. He'll know if the Dark Mark was seen hanging over Wolverhampton."
It was a hell of a way to end their pleasant idyll in Cologne, Harry thought as Severus cast a packing spell. But there was no help for that.
What was, was. And he had to face it.