Chapter Text
Harry stood in the drawing room opposite Snape, who had his wand aimed at him.
"Tut, tut," Harry said, wand in his hand, pointed almost carelessly at Snape. "I suggest you hear me out, Severus. I have a few things to offer you are interested in."
Snape arched an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't move.
"I can guarantee you life, freedom, even immortality if you seek it," Harry said, taking slow steps towards Snape. "Who else, I wonder, is left to give you all that? You are no martyr, Severus. I doubt you are looking forward to certain death."
Snape stared at Harry for a long time, his expression impassive. Then he gave the tiniest of nods. "Very well. Make me an offer."
Harry sat up with a gasp. Beside him Tom stirred under the blanket.
"Bad dream?"
Harry blinked. "No, not really," he said, lying back down. "Just a really weird one."
Burrowing closer against Harry, Tom chuckled. "You and your dreams."
Harry swallowed back a snort. If only he knew. He closed his eyes again, but the dream kept bugging him. Why had he dreamed that? True, after what Snape had told him Harry had spent some time thinking of ways to help Snape once the war ended. Or rather, if the war ended in their favor.
Snape was helping him, and it did bug Harry that with the loss of Dumbledore's portrait and memories Snape might be sentenced to death. Yes, he'd killed Dumbledore and Harry still had mixed feelings about it. But now he knew there was a whole lot more to that story, yet Snape no longer had a chance to prove that.
Perhaps it did make sense he'd dreamed about trying to help Snape. He did have a 'saving people thing', didn't he? Hermione had said that. Thoughts of Hermione obliterated any more chances of sleep, so Harry opened his eyes and looked around the attic room.
He frowned. There, on the desk, beside the diary and the locket, stood Hufflepuff's cup and Ravenclaw's inkwell.
"Brooding again?" Tom asked, stroking a hand up and down Harry's chest.
"The cup and the inkwell, have those always been there?" Harry asked, his heartbeat speeding up. Did Tom know about the Horcruxes he'd destroyed?
"Of course," Tom said, and brushed a kiss against the corner of Harry's mouth. "I have lived in this room for years. It's where I made my Horcruxes."
"Ah." A wave of relief washed over Harry. Tom didn't know. Good. "I just don't remember seeing them before."
"I'm not surprised," Tom said, and rolled on top of Harry. "We have been busy with other, far more pleasurable things in here than inspecting the decor."
"True." Harry returned the kiss Tom gave him and let his thighs fall open to accommodate Tom's body. As long as Tom didn't know Harry was destroying the Horcruxes he was supposed to be keeping safe, he didn't really care what he saw in Tom's room.
*0*0*0*0*
Harry left the letter on the table in the drawing room, and spent fifteen minutes lying face down on his bed crying so hard he ended up with a sore throat and a killer headache. He washed his face, put on his baseball cap and sunglasses, and went grocery shopping to distract himself.
He ended up with more chocolate and crisps than anything with nutrition, but quickly decided it didn't matter. He could be dead the next day. He might as well stuff himself for the hell of it.
He put his groceries away in the drawing room. He still didn't have the courage to go into the kitchen.
As it turned out, eating three bars of chocolate and one bag of salty crisps gave him a stomach ache, and he took a long bath in the hopes it would make him feel better.
It didn't.
By noon Harry opened the locket and spent the rest of the day with Tom on the grass near the sea. They talked a little, they spent stretches of time sitting side by side gazing out over the waves, they fucked until Harry thought he couldn't see straight any longer, and eventually Harry fell asleep in Tom's arms, safely beneath their blanket.
White, blinding pain shot through Harry's scar so fiercely he thought his brain might explode. He curled into a ball, clutching at his head in desperation, first screaming and then begging for it to stop.
"Harry? Harry!"
His scar had never hurt this much before, Harry was sure of it. The pain crippled him, stole away his breath, and it lasted for hours and hours, or so it felt.
Finally, it ebbed away, and Harry stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom in Grimmauld Place.
"Harry? What on earth happened?"
Panting, Harry glanced down. The locket lay opened on his chest and Tom was staring at him with wide eyes.
"A migraine, I think," Harry said in between sharp breaths. He had no idea how to explain to Tom that the living Voldemort had been more pissed off than Harry had ever felt him, and he was bearing the brunt of it.
Of course. The attack on Azkaban. The Order must have stopped Voldemort.
"Just a migraine? Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I feel better now," Harry said. And he did. God, he hoped the Order had killed every last Death Eater.
*0*0*0*0*
An ice-cold hand clasped over his mouth, waking him in an instant. A dark figure loomed over him, and it took Harry a few seconds to recognize Snape. Shaking his head, Snape brought his free hand up to his face and pressed his index finger to his lips, telling Harry to be quiet. Harry nodded, and lay still as Snape grabbed the chain around Harry's neck and pulled the closed locket off him. He placed it on the bedside table, and turned the lamp on.
Snape looked paler than usual, and when he tried to stand up, he grimaced.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, sitting up.
"It's nothing," Snape said, lowering himself to the bed to sit beside Harry. "The Dark Lord needed someone to take his displeasure out on."
"The Cruciatus?" Harry guessed. Snape nodded, and Harry sprang into action at once.
"You need to get warm," he said, pushing his sheets back. He hauled Snape further onto the bed, and undid the laces of his shoes.
"Potter, I am a grown man," Snape objected, but Harry shushed him. He pulled Snape's shoes off, and helped Snape bury his legs beneath the covers. Pulling the sheets up to their chins, Harry pressed himself against Snape's side.
"Better?"
Snape said nothing, which Harry took for agreement. Below the covers he reached for Snape's freezing hands and wrapped his own around them, rubbing softly. Part of him couldn't believe he was doing that with Snape, but a far larger part hated to see anyone, even Snape, hurt and gladly offered the comfort.
"You will be pleased to hear that both Wormtail and Bellatrix Lestrange perished this evening," Snape said, turning his head to look at Harry.
That made Harry smile. "So the Order showed up?"
"The Order, the entire Auror department, and even a few Hit Wizards who had volunteered to lend a hand. The Wizengamot had accepted a special decree, licensing the use of the Killing Curse for this occasion. The Dark Lord's troops were greatly outnumbered. They ran right into a trap."
"Good," Harry said. He was grinning by now. "Did they get any more Death Eaters?"
"They did. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Amycus Carrow, Dolohov, Goyle. They were all killed. They captured Travers, Rookwood, Mulciber, Nott and Malfoy."
"Malfoy? You mean Draco?"
Snape nodded. "He'll be spending some time in a cell beside his father's."
"Wow," Harry said. "Does Vol -- he even have any followers left?"
"Not many," Snape said, and Harry saw his lips quirk. It was almost a smile. "Hence his displeasure."
"Does he suspect you of giving us the information?"
"I don't believe so. I convinced him Draco had turned on him at the last minute. I doubt I'd still be alive if he truly suspected me."
Harry repressed a shudder. "Did anyone on our side get hurt?"
"Some Aurors were killed, but I don't think you knew them. Moody was injured badly. I saw Diggle, Jones and Doge take a few curses, but I am not sure of their condition."
Harry tightened his hands around Snape's. "Maybe I should have offered to come along. I didn't even -- "
"Potter, stop it," Snape said, black eyes narrowing. He nodded at the bedside table. "You have your own task and that is all you should be concentrating on."
"I suppose." Harry glanced at the locket as well. It was still closed. "God, I hope this all ends soon."
"You have only one more Horcrux to collect. You've already surpassed the Headmaster's expectations."
"I'll get the last Horcrux next week," Harry said. "It's just...I keep thinking I have all these puzzle pieces, but I haven't a clue how to put them together. And I have to spend a lot of time with the locket and -- "
"He's getting to you?" Snape asked, squeezing Harry's hands. "The Dark Lord?"
"I guess so." Harry stared at Snape with wide eyes. "I mean, did you know he's queer?"
Snape released a burst of laughter. "Yes, Potter, I knew that. However, you don't seem exactly straight, either, so selling your body for his soul shouldn't be such hard work."
"It's not my body, exactly, and that makes it very confusing." Harry looked down. "And I'm not queer."
"You could have fooled me, Potter, when you molested me on your couch."
Harry released Snape's hands at once. "I didn't - did I molest you?"
Snape shook his head. "I was there. I could have stopped you had I wanted to."
"But you didn't." Harry gave Snape a suspicious look. "Why didn't you?"
"I needed the relief as much as you did," Snape said, shrugging.
"Oh. So you aren't queer, either?"
"I'm whatever it suits me to be, Potter," Snape said, moving his face closer to Harry's. "And I am guessing you are the same, giving your willingness to spread your legs for the Dark Lord."
Swallowing, Harry shifted away, shame weighing heavily on his chest. "It's not like that."
"No? Then how is it?" Snape followed the small distance Harry moved.
"It just happened, and I went along with it."
"But do you enjoy it?" Snape whispered.
"Yes," Harry said, glaring. "I enjoy it. There. He's quite good at...sex, you know?"
"I know." Snape's lips curled up, and Harry gaped at him. Snape knew? Snape knew? "You seem surprised. Let me assure you, Potter, you are not the first person to use sexual favors to their advantage, nor will you be the last."
Snape knew. Snape understood. Such need swelled in Harry's chest, such desire to share this secret that tore at his conscience every time he let Voldemort have him. He crushed his lips to Snape's, pouring all that need and desire in the kiss.
It hurt, Snape's lips pressed so hard against his own, and Harry opened his mouth and at once Snape's tongue teased his own.
Snape pulled back. "Molesting me again?" he asked, though he did pull Harry's pajama shirt off over Harry's head.
"Shut up," Harry said, tugging on the buttons of Snape's robes. "I want this. Do you want this?"
"Having sex with my seventeen-year-old former student? Happy birthday, by the way, Potter. Well, let's say I am not hexing you to tiny bits, now am I?" Snape helped Harry divest his robes.
"It's my birthday?"
"Yes. Now shut up." Snape, only dressed in black trousers and socks, yanked Harry's pajama bottoms off, and rolled on top of him. The sheets had disappeared somehow, and Harry sighed under Snape's weight.
"Take them off," he said, tugging on the waistband of Snape's trousers. Snape leaned back onto his knees and pushed his trousers down. He had a great cock. Harry hadn't really seen it the first time, but now he got a perfect eyeful. It was thick and flushed and hard.
"Do you have something to ease the way?" Snape asked, as Harry spread his legs and pulled his knees up to signal exactly what he wanted.
"Yeah." Harry reached out to his bedside table, fumbling for the drawer. Instead of wood his fingers found metal.
A soft click echoed through the room with the force of a small explosion. Harry froze and slowly glanced at the locket in his hands.
"Oh, don't stop on my account," Tom said.
Eyes wide, Harry looked up at Snape, who seemed equally frozen, one hand on Harry's shin, the other one on his erection.
"My, my, this looks like quite the performance." Tom smiled, eyes glinting with desire. "You do look absolutely delectable, spread out like that, Harry. I can certainly see why Severus seems so eager to sample you."
"My Lord, forgive me," Snape said, but Tom shook his head.
"I don't blame you, Severus. In fact, I am quite interested to see you pleasure my sweet boy."
Harry's cheeks flushed.
"If that is your wish, my Lord." Snape inclined his head and turned his attention back to Harry. "In the drawer?"
"Er...yeah." Harry looked at Tom again. "It just kinda happened."
"It's all right, Harry. You are young and virile, and I don't mind watching just this once. Place me on your bedside table."
Harry did, and he balanced the locket so Tom had a perfect view of the entire bed. Snape had found the lotion, and two slick fingers probed Harry's entrance. Harry inhaled a hissed breath as one slipped inside. Tom never touched him there with his fingers. Then again, whatever he did with Tom was all in their minds. No need for preparation if it was just a mind fuck.
"Grab the back of your knees, Harry," Tom said, his voice deepening. "Hold yourself open for Severus. Show him how much you want to feel that thick erection inside you."
Tom's words sent bolts of arousal through Harry, and combined with Snape's fingers easing in and out of him Harry had to bite his lip to keep from groaning. He did as Tom told him, and held himself open as best he could. His arms were trembling.
Snape stared down at Harry, black eyes glinting, lips pursed as if in concentration. He took his time, adding a third finger, thrusting them inside Harry and stroking across his prostate with teasing touches.
"Please," Harry whispered when he couldn't stand it anymore. His cock was hard and throbbing, silently begging for release. "Please, just fuck me."
"I'd best listen to him if I were you, Severus," Tom said, but Snape needed no encouragement. He replaced his fingers with his cock, and with one quick thrust he was inside Harry.
"Stay on your knees and fuck him slow and deep. You'll have him begging for release in no time. And if you're really good, he'll for scream for it."
Snape bared his teeth and grasped Harry's thighs. He pulled his hips back ever so slowly, and thrust back in at an even slower pace.
"Oh God," Harry groaned. Snape was just as big a tease as Tom was, and Harry had no idea if he could survive this combination of Snape fucking him with Tom watching and offering directions.
"Don't let him touch himself," Tom said, when Harry inched one hand towards his throbbing prick. "If our boy wants to come, he'll have to do it from the touch of your cock alone, Severus."
Biting his lip, Snape threw his head back, and Harry realized Tom's words were affecting him as much as they did Harry. Snape sped up his thrusts a tiny bit, and every time his cock brushed across Harry's prostate, Harry moaned.
"Harder." Harry bucked his hips, driving them against Snape. "Fuck. Me. Harder."
"Not just yet," Tom whispered. "Wait for it."
Snape tightened his hold on Harry's thighs, and at the same time he slowed his pace, his cock barely moving inside Harry's arse.
"Dammit, Snape!" Harry yelled, jerking his body in desperation. "I'll fucking die if - You. Don't. Do. Something. Right. Now!"
"You are good. You've got him screaming already," Tom said, and chuckled. "Now let him have it."
At once Snape pounded his cock inside Harry, shifting them both a foot higher up the bed. Harry released his legs and grabbed hold of Snape's arms, and he saw white and red and black as Snape fucked him with all his strength.
This was so much different than Tom fucking him, which was always warm and brilliant, but this - this sheer force, the sounds of Snape's body slapping against his own, the scent of Snape's sweat - this was all so much more real.
"Oh hell yes," Harry moaned and his balls tightened while Snape wasn't even touching his cock, just fucking his arse so hard and so good.
"Look at him, Severus. He's so close. Make him come."
Harry sent a silent thank you Tom's way and stared up at Snape with what he knew had to be a pleading look. The muscles in his legs tightened, his back arched, his cock twitched, yet he hovered on the edge of climax, unable to find his release.
Snape leaned down, face hovering above Harry's, never letting the pace of his cock pounding inside falter. "Come, Potter," he said, sounding out of breath.
It was enough. Harry's eyes rolled back and his cock pulsed, and white hot pleasure washed through him. He was blind, paralyzed, riding a high he never wanted to come down from.
When his climax ebbed away, Harry became aware of Snape's body lying on top of him, Snape panting in his ear and Snape's cock spurting his semen inside him. Snape went slack, and Harry lowered his legs, stretching his strained muscles.
"Oh my," Tom said, awed. "Oh my, oh my."
Harry shared the sentiment. Who knew Snape would be the best fuck in the world? And he hadn't just thought that. Harry blinked and glanced at Snape, who raised his head to look at Harry. Snape's cheeks were flushed and his forehead shone with perspiration.
"Wow," Harry said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. Snape remained silent, but he did look a little dazed, as though he wasn't sure how he'd ended up on top of Harry with his spent cock stuck in Harry's arse.
"I see I have made the right choice," Tom said. Harry glanced at him, not sure what Tom meant by that, but he was feeling too sated to really care.
He was also feeling a little suffocated, and he tapped Snape's shoulder. "You're getting heavy."
"Potter, I am unable to move," Snape said against Harry's collarbone. "This is apparently not the thing to do in my condition."
Harry frowned, and realized what Snape meant. He'd been under the Cruciatus not long before, and then he'd pounded Harry into the mattress. "Oh," Harry said, and gently shifted on his side so Snape landed face first on the mattress. "Better?"
"I can't stay," Snape said, and groaned when he tried to push himself up.
"Don't be such a stubborn bastard," Harry said, getting up from the bed. "You need rest. Get some sleep."
Snape managed to arch an eyebrow even with his face half-buried in the pillow.
"I'll keep watch and make sure no one sees you, all right? I'll just take a shower. Don't move." Harry glared at Snape for good measure, and when Snape didn't respond he walked into the bathroom and got the water running.
He washed his hair and ran a bar of soap over his body. God, but his arse was sore. He'd had sex with Snape. Real sex. He could never tell anyone, he realized, because they'd lock him up in St Mungo's psychiatric ward at once.
He didn't really understand it, either. He hated Snape. Didn't he? But he'd needed this so much. He hadn't known a person could need something so badly.
Snape had given him pleasure and peace of mind, if only for a while. And with everything going on around them, Harry needed that more than anything.
At one point he thought he heard voices, but when he stuck his head out of the spray he didn't hear anything. Shrugging, he allowed himself a few more minutes under the hot water, and then got out and dried off.
When he returned to his bedroom, Snape was gone.
"Severus offers you his apologies," Tom said. "He had other matters to attend to."
Harry stared at Tom in disbelief. "Snape apologized?"
"Well, no," Tom said, grinning. "Actually, he just got up and left, but I'm sure that was what he really meant to say."
Snickering, Harry sat down on his bed. "That's more like him. He's such a bastard."
"You seemed to enjoy his attentions, though."
"Yeah," Harry said, looking at Tom. There was no denying that. "But he's still a bastard."
Tom laughed, and for a brief moment, Harry joined him.
*0*0*0*0*
"I'm glad to see you're still in one piece," Harry said, and meant it.
Kingsley grinned, seating himself beside Harry on the couch. "We got a lot them. Seven dead and five captured. That was very good information you gave me, Harry."
Harry shrugged. "I was just the messenger. Anyone hurt on our side?"
Kingsley's expression darkened. "Moody didn't make it. But he went down fighting, and he took the brothers Lestrange with him."
Swallowing, Harry looked down. "I'm sorry."
"Me, too," Kingsley said, briefly touching Harry's shoulder. "It's what he'd have wanted, though, to go like that."
"Yeah, I guess."
"We lost three Aurors. Good men. Other than that there have been some injuries, curses mostly, but nothing people can't recover from."
Harry threw his bag of crisps on the table, his appetite gone.
"Harry, we're having an Order meeting at the Burrow tonight and we'd like you to come."
Harry looked up at Kingsley in alarm. "Why?"
"Well, like I said before, your information was good, and we think it's for the best if we combine our forces from now on."
"Er..." Harry bit his lip as Kingsley gave him an expectant look. "I can't. Last night, my scar hurt. That means Voldemort might overhear things. It's not safe."
Kingsley frowned. "Did something happen?"
"No, I don't think so." Harry rubbed his face, frustrated with the sense of dread in his belly. He had no idea what it meant, just that something was up. "Look, the thing I'm doing? It's going well. Obviously, the things the Order is doing is going all right, too. Let's just keep it with that for now. If I get more information, I'll let you know."
Kingsley stared at him for a while, concern tugging on his brow. Then he nodded. "All right. If you need anything, you know where to find me." He got up from the couch.
"Kingsley?" Harry scuffed his shoe across the floor, barely looking at Kingsley. "I never thanked you for what you did."
"What I did?" Kingsley asked, crossing his arms.
"Not throwing my arse into Azkaban and, you know, being there when I was having a rough time of it." Harry studied the seam of his t-shirt. "Anyway, thanks."
Kingsley smiled. "You're welcome. Take care, Harry."
"You, too."
After Kingsley left, Harry sipped his Pepsi and tried to identify the anxiety plaguing his stomach. Was Voldemort listening in again? Had Voldemort been listening in when he'd been with Snape early that morning? Did Voldemort know Snape and Harry had fucked?
Harry shivered. If Voldemort knew, Snape was a dead man. Perhaps it was best if he didn't see Snape again until the next week when Tom took him to get the last Horcrux. Perhaps he shouldn't see anyone until that moment, just to be safe.
Hedwig flew down from the stairs and into the drawing room. She must have entered through his opened bedroom window. She dropped an envelope in his lap, and Harry gave her a brief scratch on the head before he opened it.
There was a card inside with a picture of a black puppy surrounded by balloons on the front.
Harry,
I know the circumstances aren't as you'd want them to be, but I still want to wish you a happy seventeenth birthday. Tonks sends her love as well. Be strong and be brave, and if there is anything you need, do contact me.
Your friend,
Remus Lupin
Harry inhaled a deep, ragged breath, smiled at the photo of the black puppy, and got up. Time for some groceries.
*0*0*0*0*
There was a cup of tea on the table in front of Voldemort, and as Harry looked around he noticed a cup of tea in his own hands. Beside him on the couch sat Snape, face impassive, as though he had tea with Harry and Voldemort in the same room every evening. Harry didn't recognize the room, no matter how he racked his brain.
"I am concerned about the boy," Voldemort said.
"We can handle the boy," Harry said. "Everything is ready."
Voldemort nodded. "They all die. Tonight."
"Yes, that would be for the best," Harry said. "You have the vials?"
Voldemort leaned across the table and dropped three vials into Harry's outstretched hand. "Mix it with their tea. A fire should take care of the rest."
"I will take care of it myself," Harry said, getting up from the couch. He glanced at Snape. "Severus, you stay here with him - me. Ah, this is confusing, isn't it?"
And Harry smiled at Voldemort, who smiled back, and panic rose in Harry's chest, nearly cutting off his breath.
He needed to wake up! Voldemort was going to kill people, and Harry needed to wake up!
"Sshh," Tom said, pressing closer to Harry on the grass near the sea. He pulled up the blanket higher and higher until Harry almost suffocated. "Sleep, Harry. It's almost over."
The Burrow burned. Flames licked the ink-black sky and the Dark Mark glowed green. Harry stood in the garden and watched fire consuming the walls, windows cracking, smoke billowing up.
Harry sat up with a gasp, and almost fell to the floor in his hurry to get out of bed. He didn't look to see if Tom was awake. He rushed through the door, and sat up in his bed at Grimmauld Place.
He needed to get to the Burrow. Voldemort had attacked the Burrow. Jumping up from his bed, Harry looked around frantically. He needed his wand. He needed his shoes.
What the hell was his invisibility cloak doing there lying on the bed? It had been in his bag.
Blood drained from his face, and his knees buckled.
No. No way.
He just needed to get to the Burrow, and he needed his fucking wand. Under the pillow. Harry reached over and felt the locket bounce against his chest. He yanked it off so hard the chain snapped. He'd worry about that later. He needed to get to the Burrow right now, because the whole Order was there, and they couldn't all be dead.
His bedroom door slammed open and Snape stepped inside, carrying a snake. A huge, dead snake.
"Snape?" Harry asked, so shocked about his sudden appearance he forgot all about the Burrow for a minute.
"Your final Horcrux, Potter," Snape said, dumping the carcass on Harry's bed.
"Nagini?"
Snape nodded. "It's time you destroyed that locket."
Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. His dream rushed back and he grabbed Snape's arm. "The Burrow. I need to get to the Burrow!"
"It's too late, Potter," Snape said, easing Harry's fingers off his arm. "The Burrow was attacked a few hours ago. The Dark Lord wanted retaliation for the loss of his Death Eaters."
His legs giving way, Harry dropped down on the bed, narrowly missing the dead snake. "The Order?"
"Dead," Snape said. "Everyone who was there died, unfortunately."
Harry's eyes squeezed shut under the force of all the names that swarmed through his mind. The Weasleys, Ginny, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley, Hagrid, McGonagall. So many names, so many faces.
"Potter, snap out of it. Destroy the locket and everything will be over."
"Huh?" Harry looked up at Snape, barely understanding a word he said.
"Listen to me," Snape said, leaning closer, dark gaze fixed on Harry. "You will destroy that locket, and after you do so I will return to the Dark Lord and cast a Killing Curse on his arse, and then everything will be over, understood?"
Mouth opened, Harry nodded. It was going to be over. Everyone was dead, but it was going to be over.
God, he wanted it to be over.
Harry grabbed his wand and aimed it at the locket. He glanced up at Snape again, just for a second, and narrowed his eyes. "Avada Kedavra!"
The green flash was followed by the sensation of a freight train running over him. Harry fell backwards, right into Snape's arms. The pressure inside his head made his eyeballs ache and his ears pop, and darkness overtook him.
*0*0*0*0*
"It is done?" Voldemort asked, and Harry nodded. "Very well." Voldemort handed his wand to Harry. "Who will do the honors?"
Harry chuckled. "You can hardly expect me to kill myself. Severus?"
"It would be my pleasure, my Lord," Snape said smoothly.
"Of that I'm sure," Voldemort said, narrowing his red eyes at Snape. "Get on with it."
Snape aimed his wand at Voldemort. "Avada Kedavra"
Harry fell and landed on his back in the grass. Waves crashed against rocks in the distance and the sun warmed his face.
Tom was there, sitting down beside Harry. "Hello, my sweet boy."
"What's going on?" Harry asked, leaning up on his elbows and glaring at Tom.
"Everything's fine. You won't get hurt, I promise you that." Tom draped a thick blanket around Harry's shoulders. "Sleep for a while, Harry. I'll wake you when we're ready."
Harry had a million questions and even more accusations, but his eyelids grew heavy and Tom wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him close.
It was warm and safe, and when sleep came, Harry welcomed it.
*0*0*0*0*
Waking up felt like bursting through the surface of Hogwarts' lake in his fourth year. Harry gasped for breath, and at once a warm hand touched his cheek.
"Sshh. Take a few slow, deep breaths. You're fine, I promise."
Harry did, and the colors around him took shape. He didn't recognize the room, but he did know the person sitting on the bed, stroking his cheek.
It was Tom.
"There you are," Tom said, and glanced over his shoulder. "Severus, he's awake."
Snape was there? Snape was in Tom's locket? No, Snape couldn't be inside the locket. Besides, Harry had destroyed the locket.
With considerable effort Harry raised his head and saw Snape standing near a large window, arms crossed as he stared outside. Instead of his usual black robes he was wearing a navy shirt and black jeans. Tom was dressed in a similar fashion, though his shirt was white.
"Hmm?" Snape said, and looked in their direction. "Ah, Mr Potter," he said, and walked towards the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Confused," Harry said, frowning first at Snape and then at Tom. "How?"
"How?" Snape snorted. "Magic, of course. What else did you expect?"
Tom chuckled, shaking his head. "I know you have a lot of questions, Harry, and I will answer them."
Harry closed his eyes, trying to call up his most recent memories. Things had happened, lots of things had happened. But what things?
"Voldemort," he said to Snape. "You killed Voldemort."
"Hardly," Snape said.
"You're Voldemort," Harry said, turning towards Tom.
"Lord Voldemort is dead," Tom said. "They found his body. Sadly, they also found your wand, Harry, and the other bodies in the room were too charred to identify. The Ministry did receive a heartfelt letter from you in which you announced your mission to defeat me, and in the case of your demise, what should happen to the contents of your vault."
"Huh?"
"You left all your belongings to a wizard named Theodore Goldprince from Sydney."
"Sydney?" Harry sat up and accepted the glass of water Tom handed him.
Snape rolled his eyes. "We're in Sydney, Potter. Australia."
"I know where Sydney is," Harry grumbled, and sipped his water.
"Now you two," Tom said, smiling. "Be nice."
Harry shook his head, trying to lose the numb feeling inside of it. "But I saw Snape cast the Killing Curse on you. Voldemort."
"Voldemort could only die if all his Horcruxes were destroyed," Tom said.
"Nagini?" Harry guessed. "She wasn't the sixth Horcrux?"
"No, she wasn't. It pained me to kill her, but she'd have only got in the way of my plans."
"But then -- " Harry shook his head again. It was like there was something missing inside him, and there was a hole in its place.
"Perhaps you should just tell him," Snape said, exasperated. "Otherwise we'll be playing his guessing game all week."
Harry glared at Snape, who gazed impassively back.
"Very well." Tom cleared his throat. "Actually, your little mudblood friend was on the right track."
The expected flare of anger at the insult didn't come. Voldemort had just called Hermione a mudblood, and Harry was numb inside.
"She theorized the soul will return to the body once the Horcrux is destroyed, and if there is only one Horcrux that is the case. However, when I made my Horcruxes, I took a few precautions."
Tom placed a hand on Harry's arm. "When you found my locket, you found not one, but three pieces of my soul."
Harry's eyes widened. "The diary and the ring!"
"Indeed. I designed the locket to collect pieces of my soul from my other Horcruxes in the case they were destroyed. Hence why I surrounded the locket with such elaborate security."
Harry remembered the Inferi in the cave and shuddered.
"Your friend was wrong, though, that the magic of a Horcrux is lost when the vessel is destroyed. It isn't. The magic from my diary transferred to the locket, giving it a few perks, if you will."
"That's why the picture could talk," Harry mused.
"Yes. Now, when you destroyed the cup and the inkwell, those pieces of soul joined the locket as well."
Worrying his lip, Harry glanced up at Tom. "You knew about that?"
Tom nodded, and Harry wondered why Tom hadn't killed him yet.
"Yes, Harry, I wanted you to find and destroy my Horcruxes."
Harry gaped at Tom. "Why on earth would you do that?"
Chuckling, Tom patted Harry's arm. "Because Dumbledore knew about them. His precious Order knew about them. You knew about them. They were no longer safe, and thus they were of no use."
"Ah." That made sense if Harry thought about it. "So you're mortal now?"
"Certainly not," Tom said, sounding vaguely offended.
"You're missing the point, Potter," Snape said. He sat down on the bed. "What you should be asking him is what his sixth Horcrux is."
"What is your sixth Horcrux?" Harry whispered, a sense of dread filling his stomach.
Tom leaned closer and touched his finger to Harry's scar. "You, Harry. The keeper of my soul."
"Huh?" Harry said, because there was no way his mind could comprehend that piece of information.
"It was an accident, and for some time I wasn't sure what to do with you. Until you found my locket, and then everything fell right into place."
"You knew who I was when I found the locket, didn't you?"
"Of course. Though you played your role of my secret supporter admirably, Harry."
Shoulders hunching, Harry plucked at the blanket covering him. "But how did you set all this up? With Snape and with Voldemort? The living one, I mean."
"Every time you visited me inside my locket you opened your mind wide open to me. Like an engraved invitation." Tom smiled when Harry looked up at him in shock. "I told you we had a special connection. The piece of my soul inside you made sure of that."
Memories rushed him and Harry fell back against the headboard. The Dursleys, Dumbledore's office, the Burrow. "Oh God," he gasped, but the flare of pain he expected didn't come. Instead his mind was telling him those events were terrible, yet there were no emotions to follow it up. "You possessed me, didn't you?"
"Finally," Snape said, throwing a hand up.
"Of course I did," Tom said, and grinned. "I had a few things to take care of and you were the perfect way to do it. Though I am surprised you didn't figure it out sooner, seeing that your little girlfriend suffered the same fate at one point in your life." Tom shrugged. "Perhaps the death of your friends distracted you."
Harry glared at Tom at the mention of Ron and Hermione, but instead of the overwhelming grief he expected there was only a slight throb in his chest. "You killed Ron and Hermione."
"Actually, no. That truly was an accident, though their deaths suited my plan well enough."
"I should be upset by this. Why aren't I upset by this?" Harry muttered, shaking his head again. If only that hole inside him would go away.
"We're getting there," Tom said, sounding perfectly cheerful. "Now, why this elaborate plan, you ask?"
Harry nodded.
"I was low on supporters, Dumbledore's followers knew about my Horcruxes, and the Ministry for once proved competent in their fight against me. I may be a proud man, arrogant even, but I'm not stupid. I know when to cut my losses." Tom glanced at Snape. "Severus was willing to assist me in reuniting my soul inside of you, Harry, and brewing me a potion that gave me a new body. We needed the old one to convince the world Lord Voldemort was dead, after all."
Harry stared at Snape in disbelief. "I thought you were loyal to Dumbledore at the end."
Throwing his head back, Tom laughed. "Oh, I think Severus was only ever loyal to himself."
Studying his fingernails, Snape huffed.
"Dumbledore trusted people were willing to die for his cause. But my experience is that a man will go to great lengths when his life and freedom are at stake. Isn't that so, Severus?"
Snape stared at some point on the other side of the room, but Harry saw his lips quirk up. "Indeed."
Harry knew Snape had betrayed him, had betrayed Dumbledore, and yet there was no stab in his gut or clenching in his chest.
"That brings us to the final part of my story," Tom said. He opened a drawer in the bedside table and pulled out a wand. "Holly, phoenix feather. I had it specially made for you, Harry, but before I give it to you I want you to listen carefully."
"Sure," Harry said, itching to get his fingers on that wand.
"You cannot kill me, seeing as I have several new Horcruxes and one old one. That would be you. I know you're thinking of killing yourself, but that would still not kill me."
Harry frowned. That had crossed his mind for a second there.
"However, since you are my Horcrux, I have made sure you will live as long as I do," Tom said. "Your encounter with Greyback was most fortunate for that piece of my plan."
Harry's gaze shot up and he stared at Tom, stomach sinking.
"Yes, my sweet boy. I have made you a Horcrux of your very own. I won't tell you where I have hidden it, so don't ask me. Severus doesn't know, just as I don't know where he has hidden his Horcrux."
"You split my soul?" Harry asked, anger finally coloring his voice.
"Oh no," Tom said, and his smile was almost condescending. "You did that all on your own, Harry, when you murdered Greyback. I merely extracted a piece of it from your body and hid it away."
The anger that heated his chest drained away, and Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked at the ceiling, Tom's hands, Snape's knees and finally spotted the glass of water still in his own hands. He gulped it down.
"That's why I feel so numb," he whispered, daring a glance at Tom.
"You'll get used to it soon enough." Tom patted Harry's arm and took the empty glass from him. "I find it very liberating to no longer be enslaved by emotions."
He should be upset by this. He should be screaming bloody murder. He should be launching himself at Tom - Voldemort - and throttling him with his bare hands.
Yet Harry did nothing but sit there and comprehend everything Tom had told him.
"I have told you all there is to tell, Harry. The air has been cleared. From this point on we start anew." Tom pressed the wand in Harry's hand, and leaned back, striking a casual pose. Snape looked equally unconcerned as he looked at Harry.
It wasn't his own wand, Harry could feel that, yet the tingle of magic was familiar. Harry looked at it, stroking a finger over the smooth wood. Tom didn't have his wand out, and neither did Snape. He could kill them. He could kill them both right there and be done with it.
But while his brain was telling him that, the rest of him was numb.
"So what happens now?" Harry asked, curling both hands around his wand. The tingle of magic was soothing.
Tom rose from the bed, stretching his arms over his head. "Now we take a vacation. And one day, perhaps, a Dark Lord will rise again, but for now I say we should just enjoy ourselves."
Harry nodded. A vacation did sound nice. "Are you all right with all this?" Harry asked, looking at Snape.
"I wouldn't be here if I weren't, Potter." Snape got up as well, brushing invisible dirt off his jeans.
Tom pulled the blanket away from Harry. "How about a shower, Harry? And you must be starving. You've been living on nutritional potions for the past two weeks. Severus, some room service, if you will?"
Nodding, Snape reached for the phone beside the bed.
Two weeks? It had been two weeks? Room service? They were in a hotel, then. Harry let Tom ease him up from the bed and support him as he stood. Two weeks. "So Hermione's dead then?" he asked, leaning back against Tom's chest.
"She is. She died a few days after we left Britain."
Harry nodded. He'd been expecting that. "A shower does sound nice," he said, and smiled at Tom.
*0*0*0*0*
"I have been waiting for this since the day you opened my locket, Harry," Tom said, gripping Harry's hips tighter. Harry smiled around Snape's cock. "Finally feel you around me, your body at my command."
Groaning, Harry balanced on one arm and wrapped his hand around Snape's shaft, just below his lips. He sucked harder, and bucked back against Tom.
After a hot shower and an excellent steak dinner, Tom had made his wishes known by pulling Harry close and devouring his mouth. And Harry had let him, the heat of arousal flaring inside of him a welcome filler for the hole his soul had left behind.
Snape rested his hand on Harry's head, guiding him down deeper and deeper, and Tom groaned and fucked him harder. Tom reached his hand around Harry and grasped his cock, and Harry's climax drew closer and closer.
Kill them, a voice inside his head kept telling him. But the rest of Harry disagreed. The only thing he wanted was for Tom and Snape to fill the void inside of him any way they could. Their heat, their cocks, their souls; it was all better than feeling nothing at all.
*0*0*0*0*
Harry watched Tom wade through the shallow waves, trouser legs rolled up and shoes in his hand. He looked handsome and human and utterly content. Snape sat beside Harry, knees drawn up, elbows resting on top. Harry had his legs stretched out and picked up handfuls of sand only to watch it slip away through his fingers.
"I did everything Dumbledore asked me to do," Harry said, more to himself than to Snape. "I destroyed the Horcruxes. That's what Dumbledore told me to do. That's all he told me."
Wind swept through Snape's black hair, and he brushed it off his face with a lazy gesture. "It seems Dumbledore underestimated the Dark Lord. At least certain parts of him."
Harry considered that and picked up more sand. He let it fall on his jeans until most of his thigh was covered. "He's got me boxed in. I keep trying to think of ways to fix everything, but there isn't one."
Snape snorted. "He might be a psychopath, but he isn't stupid, Potter."
Shrugging, Harry brushed the sand off his jeans, only to start dumping sand on it all over again.
"What would you do?" Snape asked, glancing at him. "Go back to Britain? There isn't anyone left to go back to."
"I know," Harry said. It was scary how little those words affected him. Everyone was dead, Harry knew this, and yet he sat on a beach watching Tom Riddle - Lord Voldemort - enjoy the feeling of waves around his bare feet.
"And do you think the Ministry would welcome you back with open arms?"
Harry shook his head.
"Well then." Snape tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "The Dark Lord is dead, at least for now. Honestly, I don't know what you've done with him, but that isn't the dark Lord."
"Huh?"
"Think, Potter," Snape said, staring at Harry with a challenge in his eyes. "He could have killed you. Ten times over. He could have possessed you, marched you straight to the living Dark Lord, have you hand over that blasted locket, and let the living Dark Lord cast a Killing Curse to be done with it."
Harry looked at Snape with his mouth opened.
"Instead, he insisted you live, and he's been fussing over you like a mother hen for the past two weeks." Snape wrinkled his nose. "If I didn't know him any better I'd say he's besotted with you."
Perplexed, Harry glanced at Tom in the distance, unable to process what Snape had just said. Tom met his gaze and smiled, and before Harry knew what he was doing, he smiled back, warmth filling his belly.
"He likes me?" he asked Snape, mind reeling.
Snape rolled his eyes. "He certainly doesn't hate you. You'd be dead if that were the case."
Dumping a handful of sand on his legs, Harry laughed. "Maybe Dumbledore was onto something after all."
"What?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Nothing. It's silly."
"Potter, out with it."
Harry inhaled a deep breath. "Dumbledore was always going on about how love was stronger than anything else."
"Oh for..." Snape threw a handful of sand at Harry.
"Hey!" Harry brushed it off as though it had burned him.
"You've been burying yourself for the past half hour, Potter. A little more won't hurt you."
"Yeah, but I had a system going," Harry said, a pout tugging on his lips. He was in a playful mood all of sudden, and it made little sense to him. Then again, nothing much made sense to him since he'd woken up after his two-week nap. He spread his legs a little and started pushing sand together to make a mountain. "Why did you accept his offer?" he asked, keeping his eyes on his new project.
Snape remained quiet for a while, his eyes distant as he stared out over the ocean. "I wanted to live," he finally said, voice subdued. "The Headmaster's methods to ensure I did so proved useless. So I chose a less savory option." He shrugged. "If that makes me a cold, heartless bastard, so be it."
"You're a bastard," Harry agreed, and bumped his shoulder against Snape's. "But I'm glad you're here."
"Keep your juvenile affections to yourself," Snape said, yet he still bumped his shoulder back against Harry's.
"It's a little cold still," Tom said, advancing on them with confident steps. "But come summer this is a lovely spot to go for a swim." He sat down beside Harry, shoes still in his hand. "What do you think?"
Harry looked into Tom's hazel eyes, his insides warming. "Sounds good."
Tom leaned closer and brushed his lips across Harry's. Smiling, Harry returned the kiss, and deepened it, teasing Tom's tongue with his own.
Pulling back, Tom wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. "You know, there's a nudist beach not far from here. I was thinking that as soon as the weather allows it we should check it out."
Harry snickered, sagging into Tom's embrace.
"What say you, Severus?" Tom asked, grinning at Snape over Harry's head.
"Absolutely not," Snape said, sneering.
Harry laughed, and the voice inside of him suggested it might be inappropriate to laugh. But that voice had been getting softer and softer, seeming almost like a memory that was not his own.
Tom held him close, and Harry knew as long as Tom warmed his insides like that and filled whatever void there was inside of him, perhaps the situation didn't need fixing at all.
~~fin~~