schemingreader

Ahoy! Apparently this story arc isn't going to be complete without at least five installments. Here is part four. I did succeed in moving the plot forward a bit, but it's mainly a lot of smoochy, schmoopy, sexy shtuff. If you are a Snupin person and perhaps a bit of a romantic, you will enjoy this.

I really exploited the beta-reading process on this one. I had a Brit picking help and some editing from liseuse and nefyr did a special beta on the sex scenes. (He advertised his expertise as a gay man, but it turned out I needed his more basic help as a person who actually has a sense of spatial relations!) I also had two beta readers, busaikko and rexluscus. I learned a lot about plotting a story and about point-of-view. (Also busaikko gave me basic help with spatial relations. It turns out I also don't know how long arms are supposed to be. Eep.) I did not follow all of the advice they gave me! They are not to blame.

I also appreciate all the people on my flist who persuaded me that the use of the word "uvula" really was too distracting for a sex scene.


Author: schemingreader
Title: Swords and Wands
Pairings/characters: SS/RL, HP/DM, Stephen Maturin, Nymphadora Tonks, the Weasley family, Hermione Granger, Narcissa Malfoy
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 9,963 (Oy vey!)
Warnings: graphic descriptions two males having sex, some violence
Author's Note: Sequel to "Draco's Destiny". A crossover with the Patrick O'Brian Aubrey-Maturin series.



Swords and Wands

by

Schemingreader


Molly Weasley was making tea. Ron was right; it was what she always did when there was a crisis. Tea does help, especially if the person brewing it is a witch.

After the Death Eater attack on Bill and Fleur's wedding reception, the Weasleys assessed the damage. There was a captured Death Eater and a captured werewolf. Tonks needed medical attention. There was a corpse in the kitchen that they had to clean up. Molly knew a spell that would take the blood out of her floor and save it in a vial.

"This was very handy in the first war," she said to the others in the room. "The Aurors often needed the blood, and at the very least it prevented Death Eaters from coming back to perform necromantic rituals." She nattered on soothingly as she collected the blood.

"Really, we were quite lucky that only one person died, and that on the other side. Not that death is ever a good thing." She darted a look at Draco.

Three of the company seemed to be in shock. Remus, Harry and Draco were all in the kitchen. Remus had frozen when he saw Greyback coming at him. He'd had a strong reaction to seeing Ginny set ablaze the man who had infected him with lycanthropy. He was very quiet, his face cold and shut off, sitting at the kitchen table. Molly set a steaming teacup in front of him; he ignored it.

"Go get Diana," Hermione whispered to George.

"Diana?"

"The little witch who came here with Professor Lupin. Go find her and tell her to come in here."

Harry was also not speaking. The realization that he had killed someone was hitting him and he couldn't swallow. He wasn't as pale as Remus, but he looked grim.

Ron sat down next to him, and put his arm around him, and then hugged him hard for a bit. Ron didn't say anything. He knew when to shut up. He released Harry at just the right moment, so that Harry didn't feel awkward or needy. When they were younger, Ron had always brought him out of himself with Quidditch and other physical things that didn't require much talking. He knew what Harry was like.

Draco was standing against the wall. Tears and snot ran down his face as he gulped like a little boy. Why didn't Harry get up and embrace him? He felt so alone. He knew that Harry was too embarrassed to touch him. It was Molly who finally approached Draco, tentatively.

"Draco?" she said.

"Is my mum dead, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked, finally. "Does the Order of the Phoenix know that my mum is already dead?"

"No, Draco. Draco, dear, no, we haven't heard anything like that. I haven't." Molly raised his chin and looked him in the eyes, just like with one of her own boys.

"She's not dead?" Draco said.

"I haven't heard anything about your mother being in danger or... or dead." She finished the sentence carefully.

"So she could be alive, or dead," he said slowly, "she could be all right, or..."

Ron interrupted. "I can't figure out why they would have. Killed your mum, I mean. What would that have accomplished?"

"Ron!" Hermione looked at him and shook her head.

"They told Draco that they would hurt his parents if he didn't kill Dumbledore," Harry said.

Molly sidled up to Draco and put her arm through his. She put her small hand with its short nails on his arm. She was quite small compared to him; he had grown over the summer. Her head came up to his shoulder, and he could see her pale scalp in the part of her red hair.

"But she isn't a Death Eater, is she?" Ron asked. "Lucius is, but she isn't."

"No," Draco said very softly. His mother was tall. Her fingers were long, like his, and each nail had a perfect half moon. His mother was loyal to him, not to a cause, to him. His mother, who smelled faintly of delicious powdery perfume, who kissed his forehead when he was little and she tucked him in, his mother who could not, could not be dead.

"So it's not like she knows anything or could have betrayed them," Ron said. "As long as she is alive, they have something over you, and over your father."

"What are you saying, Weas... Ron?" Draco asked.

"I'm saying, don't jump to conclusions based on what Bellatrix said. I'm saying," his expression softened slightly, "don't lose hope."

Hermione teared up. "Oh Ron," she said softly. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron behind her back.

"I think you're right," Draco said. He stood up straight, towering over Molly. "I think... you're right. Thank... thank you. But I want to know for sure. I want to know that she's all right."

"Thank you for protecting my mother," Ron said. He stood up and offered Draco his hand. Draco thought, "Oh, didn't you realize I was capable of acting like a decent human being? Weasley, you prat." But he took the other boy's hand and shook it, schooling his face to a polite smile.

---

Stephen Maturin watched his wife's small figure as she strode across the Weasley's lawn, making for the house. It was impossible to forget that this was actually Severus Snape, who had borrowed some of Diana's hair that Stephen kept in a locket and made a potion with it. He wore her small body completely differently than she did. In repose he tended to slouch.

When this false Diana reached the house, Remus met her at the kitchen door. They embraced wordlessly. This otherworldly Diana pushed the hair out of Remus' eyes. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his face. The real Diana didn't know much about offering comfort. Neither did Severus, but using Diana's small hands, he wiped the tears from Remus' cheeks with his thumbs. Perhaps the real Diana would also have risen to the occasion for Stephen. Stephen could see that Severus loved Remus in the way that Diana loved him. He idealized him in the same way.

From the slight distance, Stephen could hear Remus' voice, carrying as it had that other night aboard the ship. He was saying quietly, "Numb...couldn't move...If it had been just me..." Diana's voice was not loud, either, but it carried to Remus, "It's perfectly understandable" and "shh, shh..."

---

A week after the wedding, Harry was preparing to leave the Dursleys' house for the last time. For the last time! He would never have to come back. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been pretending, all summer, that they didn't care whether he stayed or went. Petunia had been studiously ignoring him; Vernon looked daggers at him periodically but never said a word. He was fairly sure that they knew what he got up to with Draco in his room, but they hadn't mentioned that, either.

There was always so much pretending in this house. They had pretended that he didn't exist, and he had pretended that he didn't care. Now there was something real: he was really going to get away from here. He was too excited about it, almost trembling. He and Draco were packing their things, and Harry was jangling with nerves.

"Harry, what the bloody hell is the matter with you?" Draco said.

"I'm getting away from them for good!" Harry blurted out.

"But when you do, you'll have to fight the Dark Lord."

"I've already been doing that for years," Harry said dismissively.

"Are you really more afraid of your Muggle aunt and uncle than of--of him? Even you can't be that foolish."

"It's not the same thing though. He's a monster and a murderer and he wants to kill me, kill everyone. But I've never had to live with him. He didn't call me names every day and throw things at me and make me sleep in a--in a cupboard. I'm not bloody related to him, no one expects him to like me." He sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed. He was quite worked up. Draco began to stroke Harry's back, but it was not soothing. Instead of making Harry relax and melt, it made him straighten, full of strange energy.

Draco could feel him tensing. He wasn't sure if Harry was getting aroused or angry; he looked ready either to kiss or to hit someone. Harry grabbed one of Draco's hands and awkwardly brought it to his mouth, kissing and licking the fingers.

It felt like bad dancing, Draco thought, like holding your partner close and having a hard-on and stumbling idiotically around the room.

"We probably won't see each other again, Harry. Not until the war is over. I mean, if we... if we live."

"I wish that I could take you with me," Harry said

"No you don't. We don't trust each other enough for that," Draco said. "Be realistic."

"I wish things had been different." Harry said.

"That's a safe one," Draco murmured into Harry's neck. He kissed Harry behind his ear, licking the earpiece of his eyeglasses.

Then they were tearing at each other's clothing. Harry was wearing an orange t-shirt, ripped at the neck, and Draco tried to pull it over his head, but Harry was pulling up Draco's shirt at the same time. They broke apart, and each began to remove his own clothing.

"I don't care if they hear," Harry said. "I want to make you scream." Draco began to laugh, but Harry had got his shorts down and had his mouth on Draco's cock, and his laughter ended in a gasp.

"Take off your glasses," Draco said. He reached down and slid them off Harry's face, folding the stems.

"Just put them on the floor," Harry said.

Draco lay down on the bed with his head at Harry's crotch and pulled down Harry's y-fronts. They writhed like snakes, head to foot with each other, lying on their sides. Draco took one of Harry's testicles into his mouth, and then the stimulation of Harry's rough tongue on his own glans was so intense that he moaned. The sound went through Harry's balls and he squirmed, kicking his legs and crying out.

He couldn't keep Draco's cock in his mouth but instead had to lick everywhere, touch everything. They were frantic with arousal. Draco had grabbed Harry's penis and had got his mouth around him. Harry parted the cheeks of Draco's arse and mouthed the other boy's balls and his perineum. He was licking Draco's anus and fucking in and out of his perfect mouth and groaning.

"Please, I want to fuck you, Draco, please, please."

It was awkward still, but Draco sat up and, as gracefully as he could, swung his knee over Harry's head without sitting down on his face. Harry was on his back. Draco grabbed the lube, still in the bedside table drawer, and began to slick Harry's cock.

"Give it to me," Harry ground out, reaching for the bottle. He squirted a little too much of the stuff into his hand. Draco straddled him and Harry stuck a lubed-up finger into his arse. Draco arched over Harry's cock, his own erection bouncing against his belly.

"It's enough now. Now! Come on!" Draco whispered urgently. Harry moved his hand. Draco lowered himself onto Harry's penis and began to ride him, up and down. Harry held Draco's hip with a hand that was all wet from the lube. Then he grabbed Draco's cock, hard, sliding it between his slick knuckles.

"Draco," Harry said, "do it, do it," and he opened up his mind again. They looked into each other's eyes, and Draco pushed in with his mind and down with his body. But the only thing that Draco saw was himself, riding Harry's cock, as Harry himself saw it, through a myopic haze.

They could each feel each other's arousal through the legilimency. Harry could feel his own cock up Draco's arse, so good. Then in Harry's mind flashed the moment in the girl's lav when he had held Draco's body after casting Sectumsempra, his bewilderment, his grief, the blood pouring out of Draco and an image of Bellatrix bleeding on top of that and he thought NO! I will not lose you NO! and Harry's anger and his self-disgust and the strange love he felt for Draco were all mixed in his head. Then Draco saw a dark place--the cupboard, it was the cupboard--and heard Harry saying to himself, "I won't be this thing they think I am, I won't be trapped, I won't." Then flight, images of flight, Draco on a broom just ahead of him, his hair flashing; it was something that had happened many times, but neither of them had realized that their free joy was connected to the other.

Draco leaned forward, and they kissed. Then Draco said, out loud, in a choked voice, "I love you, Harry," and came hard, his semen spattering everywhere. Harry's eyes closed, and he grabbed Draco's hips and thrust upward and felt his spunk gushing out of him, the aftershocks of Draco's orgasm, the other boy's knees gripping his thighs.

It was hard to come down from that. They had to get ready to leave. Harry pulled Draco across the hall into the bathroom and into the shower with him, touching his body in the stream of the warm water like they might never have another chance. They might never have another chance. Who knew what they were going to do in this war, what they might have to do to each other. He still didn't know whether Draco was going to try to spy for the Order, and now he felt he couldn't ask him.

Harry realized how unfair he was being to Draco. Here he was, all edgy and almost angry, and Draco didn't even know where he was going. They were both on the verge of a precipice, and they couldn't even help each other. The worst was, as always, that Harry knew he was a danger to his friends. Draco was going to be in more danger with Harry, once he lost the artificial protection of the Dursleys' house, than he would be on his own.

Draco wasn't the coward Harry had always thought. Maybe his courage didn't look like Harry's, but it was courage nevertheless. Harry almost wished they hadn't had sex, so that he could tell Draco how much he liked him, now, and have him understand. Though maybe it wasn't separate from sex. Having sex with another boy took courage, too. Everything was so complicated.

When they were washed and dressed and their trunks were packed, Draco could feel Harry's nerves again. Nothing was going to relax him today. They sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Tonks to come.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Draco said. He put his hand on Harry's, and Harry held on to it.

---

Now that Dumbledore was dead, no new people could be admitted to Grimmauld Place using the Fidelius charm. The older charms on the mansion that had protected the Black family from notice were still in operation. Very few people knew how to get into the house through the Black family charms, but Remus was one of them. He supposed that Bellatrix Lestrange was another, but they didn't have to worry about her any longer. Tonks's mother Andromeda knew a lot of the old security spells and hexes; she, Tonks and Remus had gone over how to keep the house safe from the Malfoys and other assorted Black relatives. The two of them decided to reopen the house to use for meetings between Harry and the other teenagers as well as Snape and Maturin.

Remus and Tonks had both spent a lot of time at Grimmauld Place in 1995 when it was the Order's headquarters, and Sirius was still alive. Going back to the house was always going to be painful for him, and he supposed it was also painful for Tonks. When they passed the family tree tapestry with her mother's name burnt off, Tonks winced, as she always did, in spite of the comforting hand Remus laid on her shoulder.

Funny how I don't go all melty when he touches me, now, she thought. It's like I can't even imagine what that was like. It's almost creepy, actually, that he's a werewolf. She was briefly, but violently, wracked with guilt for her own bias, and shook her head. What an unhealthy infatuation that was, but thoughts like those are worse. He's still my friend, and a good person.

"Are you all right, Tonks? It does feel a bit eerie, being back here." Remus said.

"Isn't it funny that we can find anything eerie, any longer?" Tonks said, laughing.

I wonder how it happened, that she got her courage back, Remus thought. I was worried about her, but she seems to be back to herself.

"Remus, are you really going to go with Snape?" Tonks asked.

"I don't know what is going to happen," Remus said carefully. "I can't tell Severus what to do."

"Do you know why he ran away and why he came back? I mean, is he really loyal to the Order?"

"No, I think... he's loyal to his own code of ethics. It's mainly that I know he hates Voldemort."

"Are you sure? Are you sure it's not just wishful thinking?"

"What?"

"Because you... because you have this thing going with him."

"How did you know about that?"

"Remus! Come on! We can all see you're finally shagging someone, and the way you look at her, I mean at him..."

"I... well."

"He could have enchanted you, or given you a love potion. He's well up to that, you know."

"Yes, I know," Remus smiled sardonically. "As he was when I first became interested in him, when we were at school."

"You were interested in Snape at school? I thought... Sirius hated him."

"So he did," Remus said, "but as difficult as he found it to believe, I was a separate person from Sirius." Even after all this time, remembering Sirius by saying something like that about him made Remus' eyes and nose prickle, and he had to swallow.

"He said that you and he and James Potter thought Snape was a greasy little weirdo."

"Yeah, I guess that's true. I also thought he was... interesting. So intelligent, and so intense. But then he found out about me... about my... that I'm a werewolf. There was no chance after that."

"Didn't he hate you for being friends with Sirius and James?"

"I think he did, or maybe for being a werewolf in the first place. But he... seems to have got over it. "

"He could just be manipulating you."

"Tonks. You're not being fair."

"Remus, you're about to go off with this man whom none of us fully trust, a double agent. You admit that he has hated you for years. When was the last time you had sex?"

Remus flushed. "This morning."

"I meant, before you got together with Snape."

"Come on, that's--"

"I know. It's none of my business."

"I understand what you are trying to say, Tonks."

"Does he use polyjuice every time? I could at least understand it if you were doing that Diana woman. She's quite... sexy, really."

"No, of course not! I don't like... I wouldn't want to... This is... this is too personal, Tonks."

"What don't you like, Remus? You don't like girls? You don't like people transformed to look like something they aren't?" Her facial expression suddenly reminded him of Sirius, very strongly. A dog worrying a bone. "You said you didn't want to be with me because you were too old for me, and too dangerous. Were you being honest with me, at all?"

"Yes! You're being quite unfair! I didn't think there was anything wrong with you, I just didn't think it was, you know, safe. I mean, I would never have had the courage... I mean, I wouldn't be able to be with Severus if..."

"Has he found a way to stop you from transforming? Blimey, he's come up with everything, hasn't he?"

"Listen, Tonks. Just..." Remus put his arms around his friend, and kissed her on the mouth. Their lips parted and they slipped each other a little tongue, and then they parted and look at each other.

"Well, that was..." Remus began, tentatively, a bit too brightly.

"...disappointing." Tonks finished for him. He nodded. "I'm not in love with you anymore, I think." Her face was sad, as though the kind of hopeless love she had felt was something she didn't want to stop feeling. As if misery was a measure of the strength of feeling she thought, and cringed inwardly at herself.

"I'm in love with someone else," he said quietly. "I'm in love with Severus." He'd said it, out loud, to someone else now--it was real.

"I still care for you, though, Remus. I'm not... I'm not that changeable." She winced at her own word choice and her hair briefly went back to brown.

"I know, Tonks. I'm--I'm sorry." He was sorry, a bit, but he was also elated. I'm in love with Severus! I'm in love with Severus Snape.

When had Remus ever been in love with anyone? It was difficult enough the first time he made friends, back in school, and this was the same feeling, but even more intense. It was almost as though he were a normal person, even with the lycanthropy.

Perhaps most people wouldn't use the word 'normal' to describe someone in love with Severus Snape. He knew that. Severus was damaged; but so was he. So what! He loved someone who loved him back! Maybe it wasn't normal, but it was wonderful!

"All right, but I'm still not sure that I trust him. I want you to have a way out of this spell. I can't believe you went into the book after him without telling anyone in the first place."

"You just like to take care of me, Tonks, but you know I'm thirteen years older than you are. I've had many years in the world, taking care of myself."

"I know it, but will you just... couldn't you just be a bit cautious about this?"

She's right, of course. Cautious. Right. In love! In love!

---

"The sword is an extension of your arm. The wand is an extension of your will."

Stephen Maturin was standing in a large room somewhere in London. Remus had explained that their headquarters was protected by a spell that rendered the grim old place invisible, so he didn't know quite where he was. But he was in a ballroom, wearing a fencing costume and holding a magic wand. He was reciting the one piece of magical theory he knew to an audience of three young adults. Had they been in the Royal Navy, they would have been either midshipmen or recently promoted officers.

Except, of course, for the girl. He did experience a few twinges of anxiety about teaching martial arts to young ladies. He had seen the youngest Weasley set her opponent ablaze, and he knew that Hermione Granger was equally brave. He just hated admitting to himself that he was a man of blood, and worse, that he was encouraging a young woman to such depravity.

What would his cousin Fitzgerald have thought of this? Was Maturin cut out for a fencing master? He was deadly with a blade, sure, but what did he know of magic?

Yes, he had fought perfectly well during the Death Eater attack on the Weasley wedding. But that had required only two spells: one that made his wand extend into a sort of flaming sword, and another that allowed him to conjure ropes to bind the enemy. If he had been required to actually kill a man during that battle, he would have needed to draw the scalpel that he had secreted in his pocket.

But of course one could cut the throat with the wand, as well. He needed to teach them about that intersection where magic and savagery and the vulnerability of the human body could meet. Severus would be a better teacher, but he was the one who thought it should be Stephen.

He taught them the blade spell, so that each of the young people had a long rapier-like blade coming out of his or her wand. "The point of this exercise is for you to learn to fight with swords and other sorts of blades, and to use your wands like blades, and your magic as an extension of your bodies."

"The first knowledge one needs in a fight is of anatomy and physiology. I use it as a physician, and I use it when I wield a sword. Or a wand."

Harry looked apprehensive. "Will it be a lot of memorization, that bit?" he asked, shyly.

"No, Mr. Potter, it's quite simple. Mr. Lupin has assisted me." Indicating the mannequin behind him with his wand, Stephen thought he would have to say an incantation, but as soon as he pointed his wand at the dummy, the side of its neck lit up.

"That's the jugular vein," Ron said.

"How did you know that?" Harry whispered.

"Don't you ever read mystery stories?" Ron said under his breath.

"Very good, Mr. Weasley," Stephen said. "Do you know any others?"

Of the three students, Weasley was generally the least confident. Potter knew that there was a prophecy about him, an expectation that he had to meet. Miss Granger knew that if there was something one could learn from reading, she could learn it. Weasley was their friend, and that was all of it. But Stephen could see that Weasley had his own virtues; he was the sort Stephen would like at his side in a fight.

Ron listed several vulnerabilities of the human body. As he mentioned each, it lit up on the dummy.

"But Dr. Maturin," Hermione said, "What if you don't have a weapon? For example, what if you lose your wand?"

"This is a revealing question, and you have anticipated the direction of my lesson perfectly" Stephen said. "You are assuming that without a weapon, you are too weak to act upon someone else's body."

Harry raised a less tentative hand, "There's wandless magic. I mean, I know we can't rely on it, but all of us did magic before we even knew what a wand was."

"This is the second step, and that will be a large part of our lessons, but there is an intermediate piece of logic that you have missed."

"You can hit or bite or kick people without a weapon," Ron said. "The hardest part of the body, or one of them, is the forehead. As long as you keep your head, you have a weapon." He snickered at his own wit.

"Oh right, like football hooligans," Hermione murmured with no little irony.

"Hermione..." Harry said.

"Yeah, that game that Dean likes, I've seen them hit the ball with their heads," Ron continued blithely.

"Are we going to have to drill on this?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Stephen said. "As a young lady, and not a large one, you are at a natural disadvantage, and practice will be essential to you. I have arranged for Miss Tonks to spar with you."

Hermione seemed a bit calmer. "Oh. Oh, thank you, Dr. Maturin, that was considerate."

"Though I hope you will eventually be able to spar with Mr. Weasley or another friend of similar size. Miss Tonks is going to teach you Chinese martial arts, so that you can best a much larger opponent."

Hermione looked nervous again.

"But, however, I would like to discuss wandless magic, and indeed, performing magic without an incantation, with you. How much of this have you done, and under what circumstances?"

Harry looked chagrined. "Three summers ago I accidentally blew up my uncle's sister."

Maturin's eyebrows climbed despite himself. "By blew up, do you mean caused to explode?"

"No, I made her swell up and float to the ceiling like a balloon filled with helium."

"Ah."

"That's not all. When I was... when I fought Bellatrix Lestrange, I cursed her with a curse called Sectumsempra. Then she taunted me, and I lost my temper and I..." He really didn't want to talk about this in front of Ron and Hermione.

"You can say it, Harry," Hermione said softly. "We would never think less of you for defending Draco... and Molly and Tonks." Ron snorted.

"I wasn't defending Dra--! Hermione, come on! She killed Sirius!" Harry glared at Hermione, and then at Ron.

"All right, Harry," Ron said. "I don't care, you saved my mum anyway."

"Sectumsempra? Eternal cuts?" Stephen asked. "What is the nature of the curse?"

"The person bleeds and bleeds," Harry said. "I cast it on...someone at school, in a fight, before I understood what it did."

"Did your opponent die?" Stephen said.

"No," Harry explained. "Sn...Professor Snape came and reversed the spell with some kind of chant. But they can die from it."

"How did you learn it, do they teach such curses at your school?"

"No. Professor Snape left notes about it in his old Potions textbook."

"Did he create the curse?"

"He might have done." Harry was thoughtful. "I cast the curse on Bellatrix Lestrange during the scrum after the Weasley wedding. She said things to me, to make me angry...I'm not good at just not listening when people say things to me. Professor Snape told me... well, I got very angry with Bellatrix and somehow I was squeezing her heart. Like I made her heart pump out her blood faster or something. It was like that time with Aunt Marge."

"We've all done wandless magic," Hermione said contemplatively, "because there had to be some sign that we had enough magic to go to Hogwarts. No one in my family is a wizard, so I hadn't even seen a wand."

"But?" Ron said.

"But Harry is a bit stronger, I think," Hermione said, blushing.

"I think it's just that I don't have good control," Harry said.

Stephen looked thoughtful. "I believe Miss Granger may have the right of it. Madame Lestrange surely taunted other opponents in her long career of villainy, but you were the only one who used magic against her in this way."

"I had tried to kill her before, using one of the Unforgivable curses, but I couldn't do it."

"Thus we come to the heart of the lesson," Stephen said. "As Professor Snape has instructed me, it is not the words of the spell or curse that perform the magic, nor even the presence of the wand, but the will of the caster."

"What's that?" Ron said. "The spells don't matter?"

"Well, of course not, Ron," Hermione said. "You know we've been working on non-verbal spells all year."

"Yes, but you say the spell silently," Ron said. "It always seems to matter how you do it. Remember 'wingardium leviosa'? Swish and flick? If you do it wrong, the feather doesn't rise."

"Yes, but, Ron," Hermione said, "what about the first day you flew on a broomstick? Not everyone can do that, and it's not because of a spell. You don't have to say a spell to fly, you just say 'up,' and up you go. Or don't, as the case may be."

Harry smiled. "Ron probably doesn't remember the first time he was on a broom, he was too little."

"But I remember your first day on a broom, Harry, back in first year," Ron said, nudging him, "You were brilliant."

"I really wanted to get the Rememberall back from Malfoy," Harry said, "I was just trying to catch him." He hadn't even remembered that the first time he flew was to catch Draco. That was where the memory came from, wasn't it? That first feeling of joy, finally free of the dark places he had been stuck, and Draco was there.

"That's precisely the way of it," Stephen said. "Your will is the motor of your magic."

"But there also has to be an element of need or desperation, or some other emotion that distracts you from thinking you can't do it," Hermione mused.

Ron smiled.

"What?" Hermione said, sotto voce, smiling back.

"I just like the things you say, sometimes," Ron said, also under his breath.

"Harry, didn't you discover your powers because Dudley and his friends were chasing you, and you jumped onto the roof?" Hermione asked. "I made my teacher lose her voice. She was cruel to one of the children and I made her stop. I don't like bullies."

"I can't believe you never did that to Snape!" Ron laughed.

"Professor Snape," Stephen corrected, absently.

"Oh, now they have him doing it too!" Harry muttered under his breath.

"There seems to be some magic at Hogwarts to help control wandless magic," Hermione said.

"With me, it was my brothers. They teased and pranked me until I lost my temper and did magical things."

"Did it happen many times?"

"Oh, all the time! My mother was always waving a wand at us to stop the levitating, the the enchanting of toys, the time the twins tried to trick me into making an Unbreakable Vow..."

"It's amazing that you're all still speaking to one another," Harry said.

"We aren't," Ron said.

Harry didn't say anything. This was sensitive territory. Hermione slipped her hand onto Ron's elbow.

"So a difficult childhood helps a wizard or witch develop his or her magical power," Stephen said.

Harry thought about this. "Well, it would explain why Voldemort is so powerful. Also, Sn...Professor Snape. He didn't have the easiest time. Also my godfather, Sirius, he ran away from home to live with my dad..."

"Well, if having plaguey brothers is all it takes to bring out magic, then you don't have to be locked in the cupboard or raised by dark wizards or...whatever made Snape... Professor Snape, I mean..."Ron trailed off.

"Yes, but it seems that being locked in the cupboard did something extra for Harry," Hermione said briskly. "Perhaps that's why Professor Dumbledore allowed you to be raised by people who didn't take care of you properly, Harry. I've always wondered."

Harry felt a sudden surge of anger. "Dumbledore had his reasons!" he blurted out.

Ron was all red. "You mean you think maybe Dumbledore gave Harry a lousy childhood, just to make him stronger to kill Voldemort?"

"No!" Harry said. "He was angry with Aunt Petunia for how she treated me. He didn't know! He said that he was happy that I was normal when I came to school!"

"Listen, Harry," Hermione began reasonably. One of the windows blew out. "Okay, stop it!" Another window broke. Each time, Stephen jumped. He had to regain control of the group.

"Mr. Potter," Stephen said in his best imitation of Jack Aubrey's natural authority. The room became as quiet as the deck of the Surprise under Captain Aubrey's inspection. If only Jack were here. He would have a natural sympathy with this lad.

"I've never done that, with the windows," Harry said. "I apologize, Dr. Maturin."

"This house is the opposite of Hogwarts," Ron said. "I think it amplifies uncontrolled magic."

"But it never happened before," Harry said.

"But Dumbledore had all kinds of magical protections on the house before," Ron said.

"Reparo," Hermione muttered, and the glass shards flew back into place. Stephen started.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, "I didn't mean..."

"It's all right," he replied. "I've been a bit on edge."

---

Severus came in the front door at Grimmauld Place just as Stephen was finishing his report to Remus. He was still Polyjuiced to look like Diana Villiers, but his status as an Order member allowed him entry. He was accomplishing the difficult feat of making Diana's impeccably cosmopolitan face look uncomfortable.

"I hate this place," Severus said, still in Diana's voice. "Can't we go to a hotel for the night?"

Remus grinned. "We really ought to stay here and keep an eye on the kids."

"Tonks is here, she's perfectly capable, and Maturin can stay."

"Severus, I don't think it's wise."

"Remus, they are planning to go off all alone and look for odd bits of the Dark Lord he's left lying around. I hope they can handle sleeping in their own beds for one night. It's Potter's house, as well."

"You have a point." Remus picked up the two-way mirror he had enchanted with Tonks. "I'll just let Tonks know that we are sleeping elsewhere." Severus rolled Diana's eyes. He waited through the obligatory conversation, and then handed Remus what turned out to be part of a naval insignia; it was a portkey.

They were transported to a swank-looking street in some European city.

"I know you want me to let the polyjuice wear off, and I wanted to do it somewhere that every wizard in Britain wasn't likely to see," Severus said.

"Where are we?"

"Trieste."

Severus ducked into an alley and Remus followed. Severus began to change back: his eyes darkened, his limbs lengthened, his face reshaped itself. He quickly transfigured his clothing to fit: a golf shirt with an alligator on it, blue jeans, and Doc Martens sandals, no socks.

"Ah, finally," Remus said. He looked into his lover's scowling, hooded, beaky face with unconcealed satisfaction, and grasped Severus' hand.

"You are so peculiar, Remus," Severus said, and kissed him. Once Remus had his breath back, Severus said, "The hotel is around the corner. I made reservations in advance."

"And a portkey," Remus said.

"Yes."

"You had plans." Remus was smiling.

They were staying in the Hotel Continentale on Via San Nicolo.

"This is the area of Trieste where James Joyce lived," Severus said shyly. Remus smiled at him. How did Severus know that Remus had read Joyce? He supposed because he had a reputation for reading all the time. "They are fairly urbane about things here as well," Severus added. Remus understood that he meant about two men sharing a room.

"It's a beautiful place," Remus said, "and it's really too bad that all I want to do is go up to our room."

"Tired?" Severus asked.

"Er, no," Remus said.

Severus smirked. He went to the front desk and confirmed his reservation in French. His French was good. Remus decided he had a thing for Severus speaking French.

"Severus, where is the money coming from?" Remus said in an undertone as they walked through the hotel lobby.

"Credit card."

"But…"

"Not under my name. Even You-Know-Who can trace a credit card."

They took the elevator, which had a brass cage. Severus had reserved a room with a balcony. He opened the curtains and the light came into the room.

"Come here," Remus said. Severus joined him on the edge of the bed. Remus began to stroke his hair away from his face.

"Are you sure you want me in this body?" Severus said. "It's your last chance for you to have me in another one."

"I like your body."

"There's no accounting for taste."

"You assume I love you for your mind, don't you, you arrogant berk," Remus said affectionately. He stuck his face into Severus' neck and began to sniff. "Ah, that's more like it."

"You like the way I smell. Is that a lycanthropy thing?"

"I don't know. I do have a better sense of smell in this world than in O'Brian's. But I don't know. You just smell good to me." He began to kiss wetly down Severus' neck to his collarbone. "Take off your shirt, please."

Remus could feel Severus smiling into his hair; Severus found Remus' reflexive politeness very amusing. "All right." He pulled the green polo shirt over his head.

His body hair lay flat in whorls on his chest. Remus found the contrast between the dark hairs and Severus' pale olive skin very enticing. His nipples stood out, flat and rosy, and Remus began to nuzzle the left one. He licked and kissed, reaching his hand into Severus' trousers and freeing his erection. He lazily stroked it with one large hand, his other hand framing Severus' face to kiss him some more.

"It's my cock that you love, isn't it," Severus drawled.

"Oh that's definitely it, believe me," Remus smiled. "When are you going to fuck me with this gorgeous thing?"

"Since you ask so nicely," Severus huffed, flipping them over so that Remus was on his back, "as soon as possible."

He glowered down at his old schoolmate, and suddenly they were both laughing. "Let's get you out of those trousers," Severus said. He leaned down and put his mouth against Remus' cock through the linen fabric of the trousers, and breathed.

"Ahh," Remus groaned. "I should have known what I was getting myself into, with you. I should have known you'd be bloody good in bed. I should have known you'd be a--ahhhh--ruthless tease."

"You say the nicest things," Severus smirked back. He undid Remus' belt and unzipped the trousers, and then eased them over his hips and off. He stuck his hands into the leg openings of Remus' underwear and grabbed his arse, kneading his gluteus muscles. Remus put his arms around Severus and stroked his back. Remus' cock poked Severus' belly from the waistband of his pants.

Severus licked down Remus' torso, letting his tongue rest in his deep navel, following the line of his body hair to his cock. He licked the head, briefly. Then, still without removing the underpants, he moved his head down to tongue Remus' scrotum through the cloth.

With an impatient sound, Remus tried to take off his underwear. In their impatience, he and Severus tore them off. Remus fell back laughing helplessly. Severus opened his mouth wide and took Remus' cock all the way in, the head going down his throat. "Urgh," Remus gasped. Severus swirled his tongue over Remus' erection, the entire length.

Then his head came up, and he looked Remus in the eye. "Damn. We're going to have to use a spell because I forgot to bring the lube."

"There's a spell?" Remus said, panting and looking glazed.

"It works all right, but it's more fun to use real lube." Severus summoned his wand and said a series of short spells. He ran his finger around the outside of Remus' anus and Remus gasped as he felt the lubrication dripping out of him.

Severus put a bolster under Remus' arse and began to finger him in earnest.

"Oh my God, you are... oh my God..." Remus said incoherently. Severus' long fingers reached his prostate easily, and he began to stimulate it.

Severus said another spell, and his hand became slick with lube. He stroked his cock, and then pulled Remus' legs up to his shoulders. He slid his cock head into Remus' anus and then pushed into him in a single, smooth motion. Remus cried out, and their eyes met. They stayed like that for a moment, Severus' cock pushed up against Remus' prostate, until Remus thought he might cry from the intensity of it, but he didn't. Severus began to swing in and out of Remus' body, each thrust earning a helpless grunt from Remus, who finally shut his eyes.

Severus thrust in hard and rested there for a moment, so that Remus thought he would explode from the fullness of it. "Touch yourself," Severus suggested in a low voice, and Remus grabbed his own cock. Severus held his hips and fucked him faster, so that they were both sweating and groaning. Finally Remus came, his semen hitting his chest.

Severus pushed in one last time as he came with a series of long, deep grunts. He knelt there in front of Remus, and then seemed to come to himself, realizing that he had to bring Remus' legs down. He carefully withdrew, and then eased down onto the bed, where the two of them embraced and briefly dozed.

After fifteen minutes, they got up; they were very sticky. Severus turned on the shower, where they wordlessly embraced and kissed. Severus washed Remus very thoroughly, his hair, his back, his buttocks and legs. He lavished kisses on Remus' wet shoulders.

"You're hard again," Severus said in his deep voice, "would you like another go?"

"Oh, if you want to do it whenever I'm hard for you, Severus, we'll never leave the bed." Remus thought that perhaps the best feeling ever was kissing someone who was smiling. "Let's get some dinner," Remus suggested, "and then I think we should talk."

Severus looked a bit alarmed. "Talk?"

Remus rolled his eyes. Severus said, "Talk. Right."

They took the ancient elevator down and strolled in the slowly setting summer sun on the piazza to a small café. Severus ordered a seafood risotto and a beer that he didn't finish, and Remus had game and local red wine. They talked about Joyce and how they each happened to read him. Remus had read Portrait of the Artist and Ulysses; Severus had read Ulysses and attempted Finnegan's Wake, and had read a recent biography.

"I can't even imagine being able to read something so experimental as Finnegan's Wake whilst you were teaching at Hogwarts. You were working all the time there."

"I don't like to be intimidated," Severus said. "If something is meant to be important to read, I like to try, at least, to read it."

His table manners were impeccable. He sat very straight with his forearms in his lap. His enunciation was crisp. Remus had come to understand this as the way Severus defended his feelings. Severus took out his wand and Disillusioned the area around their table, adding a distraction spell so that they could talk freely.

"Do you really want to leave this world?" Remus said softly. "You have so much magical talent and ability. Can't we get you out of this trap some other way? We're hiding here. Can't we go somewhere else? Then you could keep your magic."

"But I want you to be free," Severus said. "Also..."

"Also?"

"I'm afraid of you when you are the wolf."

"That's a perfectly rational response!"

"But I don't want to be afraid of you. I want to be with you."

Remus took a breath. "Why, Severus?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"You know I'm not as brave as you are. I let you down through cowardice when we were boys, and I endangered you through my irresponsibility as an adult."

"Why do you want to be with me, Remus?" Severus looked anxious, as though Remus might say he did not.

"I've always found you... intriguing. You seemed strong to me in just the ways that I was weakest. You are brave."

"But do you trust me, after all that I have done? No one in the Order does, really, and none of the Death Eaters do either."

"Tonks said I shouldn't."

"Only Dumbledore trusted me, and I let him down. He was sure I would perform this public mercy killing for him, and I just didn't want to do it. I've... I've been so happy since I decided to evade my responsibilities to spy on Voldemort. I know it's wrong."

"Severus..."

"I know you think we should stay here and fight."

"I think we probably should. We should do our duty."

"What if we died and didn't make a difference? Then what? If I had done as I said I would, and killed Dumbledore, I would never have had even a moment with you, not even a moment to speak your name, before you killed me."

"I don't know. I have never killed anyone."

"You nearly killed Pettigrew."

"Rat bastard," Remus said under his breath. "All right, so I did, on the worst night of my entire life." They rose from their chairs; Severus put down a traveller's cheque for a bit more than the bill and they tossed their white starched napkins on the table. The proprietor, seeming to see them for the first time, waved.

"I don't blame you for wanting to kill Pettigrew," Severus said quietly.

"I just meant that I could have killed you, Sirius, Harry, Hermione and Ron as well. I still have nightmares about the moment when I realized I had forgotten to take the Wolfsbane potion."

"I know. I've been sleeping with you."

"How do you know what I dream?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"I'm sorry, Severus." Remus put an apologetic hand on his friend's arm. "I've never told you how sorry I am, because it seems so inadequate."

"I blamed you, at the time, but I don't any longer. I have made so many deadly mistakes of my own."

"It's unfair to you that I wake you up with my bad dreams about something I did that hurt you."

"I know how to dispel them, the bad dreams," Severus said, smiling at him.

"Is there a charm?"

"No, I kiss your closed eyes..." and Severus, standing in the twilight street in Trieste with the breeze blowing off the Adriatic Sea, put his arms around Remus' shoulders and demonstrated.

---

Draco Malfoy walked with his first cousin Nymphadora Tonks through Muggle Manchester. He kept quiet and took in the scene.

"I've enrolled you in the University of Manchester."

"Oh."

Tonks looked at him sidelong. "Draco? Aren't you going to say anything about going to a Muggle university?"

"Er. I took a Muggle Studies seminar at Hogwarts, so I know I am not prepared academically. The subjects aren't the same. I remember we had a quiz on it."

"You have to pass. Your life depends on it."

"I suppose I'm in big trouble then, Tonks." He looked apathetic, tired, and numb.

"Draco, what is wrong with you?"

"Tonks, I haven't seen my mother since...since Easter hols." He blanched and then flushed pink. "I thought Aunt Bella was hinting that she had killed my mum. And then... did you know that spell, the one that Ha--that Potter used?"

"No, I know a similar one but not that spell."

"He found it in a hand-me-down textbook and used it on me when we were fighting in the girl's lavatory at Hogwarts during the last term."

"Why were you fighting in the... okay."

"I mean, he didn't know what it did, and he nearly killed me with it. Snape... Professor Snape came in and healed the cuts. I couldn't believe Harry would use it again."

"Were you and Harry... sleeping together?"

"What... yes. Yes, we were sleeping together. Are you going to trust me more or less for that now? Do you think I seduced your golden boy, or do you trust me more now that..." Draco's words tumbled out as he slid over the edge into angry desperation. "Now that I've had the Saviour's cock up my sorry arse?" He bit off the words.

"Draco...."

"I just want to see my mum, all right? You want to hide me in the middle of this huge Muggle city. I know just enough about it to hang myself. If I have to stay here on my own, they'll find me in about twenty minutes. I want to know that my mother is alive!"

"She's alive," Tonks said hesitantly.

"Where is she? I mean, don't tell me where she is, I understand, but can I see her? Please?"

"She's under Fidelius."

Tonks guided him into a beautiful building on the university campus; the library. Once they were inside the building, Tonks led the way up the stairs. Opening the door from the stairway, she handed Draco a piece of parchment. He looked down. "Narcissa Malfoy is sitting in the library stacks in front of you."

He looked up, and there was his mother. She was dressed as a Muggle as well. She was crying. He didn't feel his feet as they took him across the room. He fell to his knees and buried his face in her skirt.

---

Remus woke early, the sun coming through the sheer curtains at the Hotel Continentale. He had left the top window open, and an owl flew in through it.

"Severus," Remus said, but Severus had sat bolt upright in the bed. The owl flew down and handed Severus a parchment with his name on it.

"I'll give it the mint that they left on the pillow last night, and a few knuts," Remus said, luring the owl away from Severus. But the bird flew off without any payment.

"It's from Cissa Black, " Severus said groggily. "I mean, Malfoy."

"How did she know you were here?"

Severus gave him a look. "She didn't know I was here, she knew that I was alive. Her son is having it off with Harry Potter, and Potter isn't exactly discreet. He'll tell people things he overhears, why wouldn't he tell his boyfriend that some pretty little bint is his teacher under polyjuice?"

"Is that what she says?"

Severus read the letter more closely. "No."

"What does she say?"

"She's sending the owl without knowing if I am alive or dead, but she's threatening me. She says that I have a responsibility under the Vow to protect Draco, and that she thinks the Order isn't doing a good enough job."

"If that were true, wouldn't you be dead?"

"I don't think the Vow kills you instantly if you break it, Remus."

Remus sat down on the bed and put his hands on Severus' arms. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm not dying, you idiot."

"She could also betray you to the Death Eaters."

"No, she won't do that. There's too much at stake for her and Draco."

"Should you go back to the book?"

Severus looked at the floor. "You've decided to stay here and help the Order."

"Just until we know that everything is done here."

"I thought so. I thought you would throw your lot in with them. I bought the ingredients to make the Wolfsbane."

"You did?"

"It makes it easier, doesn't it? Tell me the truth. If it's better to change without the potion, you don't have to take it. "

"It makes it less frightening to change, knowing that I am not going to hurt someone."

"Good, then I'll make it for you. No skin off my nose." Severus smiled. "I want to get out of here, but I'm not going anywhere without you. Other people can be noble and stupid for abstractions, like "the integrity of Magic" like the Death Eaters or "the side of Light" like the Order, or "England" or "freedom." That was never me. I was always trying to get what I didn't have."

"What was that?" Remus asked softly.

"Someone who cared enough about me to come after me. You did that. It was a crazy risk you took, using that spell to find me in the book."

"Why did it take me so long to understand you, Severus?"

"Because you are a very decent, middle-class, intellectual, somewhat repressed English person sharing a body with a terrifying monster, which I imagine is very distracting for you." Remus barked a laugh at this. "I am a traumatized, ugly, Northern working-class homosexual simmering with the unresolved resentments of a horrid childhood. Not many people are willing to try to get past my barricades. Plus I was a double-agent and I hated all your friends, and that had to be off-putting."

"Do you still think you're ugly?" Remus looked dismayed, and kissed Severus with vehemence for a minute. "Maybe I have been bit repressed, I'll grant you that. But I certainly think you are helping me with it, you sexy bastard."

"You are besotted."

"You are so right."

"I don't want to fight on either side in this stupid war any longer, let alone on both sides. Fuck duty and self-sacrifice. No one is decent."

"But you are going to stay to help the Order, because of me." Remus asked it without inflection.

"I've wasted enough of this life being angry and lonely. If I have to be noble and stupid after all, at least I can do it with you."

---

Stephen was having an erotic dream about Jack Aubrey. This hadn't happened to him since he was a teenager, dreaming about another man. How inconvenient it would have been to have such dreams on a ship full of men. Here in the relative privacy of Grimmauld Place, with Jack a world a way, he was dreaming that the taller man was embracing him and kissing him.

It was a strange dream. It was never clear, in the dream, whether Jack was really Jack, or some kind of combination of Jack and Sophie. Whoever it was kissed him passionately and he felt a delicious lassitude in every limb but one. Yes, it was Jack, his yellow hair twining in Stephen's fingers, his erection hot and hard against Stephen's belly. No, it was Sophia, her breasts soft against him, her form yielding and pliant. No, Jack, it was his beloved Jack, the person he loved more than any other...

Even while asleep he attributed it to Severus' potion. Stephen had a long history of insomnia and Severus had given him a vial. Typically he had had held it in his hand until 2AM, dithering about whether to drink it.

Why couldn't Severus have provided him with a potion that would quiet his libido? He was accustomed to his own drugs that held back his sexual feelings. Here he was in a time period with impenetrable sexual mores, alone in a house with three nubile young people and a female chaperone with distractingly beautiful eyes. Everyone seemed to have a body that could change from male to female and back. Of course he'd have a dream like this one. He'd say his rosary when he woke up, that would banish strange dreams...

It was for that reason that he woke just as peevishly as usual, in spite of his lack of headache from the laudanum that he usually used. There was knocking on his door and a typical adolescent bellowing. Just like being on board ship.

"Tonks! Dr. Maturin!"

It was Hermione.

"I'm awake, I'm awake for all love!" He yelled through the closed door. They never believed him on the Surprise and Hermione didn't believe him here, either. She continued to knock as he scrambled out of the bed.

"We've found another horcrux!"

Stephen pulled on his strange trousers over his nightshirt, buttoned them hastily and opened his door. "Miss Granger?"

"We found a horcrux! I used Professor Lupin's map and it showed up!"

"Where are Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"

"Harry is in terrible pain...his head...I came to find you. I know you are a doctor. Maybe not...anything, can you do anything?" She was very agitated.

She pulled him down the dark hallway. Harry Potter was writhing on the floor, a gold chain clutched in his hand. Ron was standing over him, holding a wand and looking terrified. Stephen dropped to his knees.

"Let go of the object, Harry, let it drop..." He stroked the boy's scarred forehead. It was unexpectedly cold. Harry's eyes flew open. They were an unnatural, startling green colour.

Stephen gently peeled each of the fingers loose. A gold locket fell to the floor. Stephen picked it up. Nothing happened.

"He tried to open it," Hermione explained.

"Harry? Harry?" Ron whispered anxiously.

Harry Potter lay unconscious on the floor, his breathing uneven.