The Hogwarts dungeons were always slightly creepy, but walking through the dank corridors during the summer was even creepier. All of the Potions Master’s books were spread throughout his office, his personal quarters, and even in his classroom at Hogwarts. The Headmistress had given the residents of Grimmauld Place permission to use the floo in her office to travel back and forth from Headquarters to the castle in order to search for the counter-curse to the curse plaguing Severus.

No one could possibly have fathomed just how many personal journals and books of notes Severus had collected over the years. Being the methodical, anal, perfectionist he was, Severus had of course arranged the notes and journals by date, subject, and even colour, which made everyone assume it would be easy to find the spell. How wrong they were.

The earliest notebook was dated the summer before Severus’ first year of Hogwarts. Remus was flabbergasted. He had known the man was very academic and had a thirst for knowledge to rival even Hermione, but the sheer amount of self-research the man had done was phenomenal.

“He has notes upon notes of Arithmancy equations he calculated at the age of ten that I can’t even figure out now! How did I never realize how brilliant Professor Snape is?” said Hermione, her voice breathless and full of disbelief. She had been randomly squealing and exclaiming at certain things, giving them all false hope that she had found the counter curse, but she was really just excited about the information she was taking in. She’d already apologized a dozen times for causing Remus to nearly have a panic attack.

“Well, you’ve not really gotten to know Severus very well, have you? I mean, yeah you’ve been more friendly with him recently, but Sev’s a complicated man. Hardly anyone truly knows him; that’s why he’s always underestimated, but I think he prefers it that way. It’s more of a surprise when he outsmarts people that way,” Draco said with a smirk as he flipped through a journal of poisons and antivenins.

Remus couldn’t help the fond smile and soft chuckle at Draco’s words. He was guessing that Draco probably knew the man even better than Remus did himself. Severus had practically raised Draco, and he could see many qualities in Draco that Severus shared. No wonder Harry was so smitten with the blonde.

“I think we should focus on the notes from his later years in Hogwarts. I mean, I can’t really see him creating such a damaging curse at thirteen. I’d say it’s somewhere between his fifth and seventh year, or even after Hogwarts,” Harry suggested as he discarded another fruitless book.

Remus cocked his head, curious why Harry would pick that time-frame. “Why fifth to seventh, Harry? Perhaps he didn’t create it until well into his Death Eater years. That would seem more likely to me. Severus…wasn’t a pleasant person, even as a teen, but I never thought he would create something so dark.”

Harry looked around to the other people in the room. The twins and Ginny were on one side checking the journals from the man’s years as a Professor. Aurora, Lucius and Draco were looking through the very sizable shelves of potions notes, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were checking through Severus’ school years. They were only up to his second year of notes.

Remus had taken on the task of looking through Severus’ most personal belongings; things that required passwords because they were warded. So far none of them had had any luck, but Remus thought Harry might be on to something. He was glad that the rest of the room went back to their own business when Harry moved close to him, making it clear this wasn’t a public discussion now.

“Last year, do you remember when I fire-called you and Sirius about that memory I saw in Dad’s pensieve?” Harry asked barely above a whisper. He had kept his promise to the Potions Master and had told no one about the memory he had seen while snooping. He didn’t think talking to Remus and Sirius about it had been breaking that promise, as they had been there to witness it themselves.

Remus frowned disapprovingly, but nodded. “Of course. I will always regret never stopping them from terrorizing Severus. I was just as bad as they were, if not worse. I had the power to stop it and I just ignored it,” Remus grumbled, realizing belatedly that Harry had probably mentioned that memory for a reason, and it wasn’t to hear Remus sulk.

“You know Dad has forgiven you, Moony, so you should probably work on forgiving yourself. What I meant though was the fact that Dad and my mum stopped being friends that year. He still doesn’t talk about their friendship all that much and I understand why, but I think it really affected him badly. He said that the rift in their friendship caused him to delve even deeper into the Dark Arts because he felt like he had nothing else. If he made any horribly dark curses, I’d think it would have been after the fight with my mum.”

Remus ran a hand across his face, completely exasperated with himself. It seemed as though everyone else knew his husband better than he did. He hadn’t even thought about Lily’s rejection of him causing that kind of ripple effect, and yet Harry had figured it out after only seeing one memory. Remus had lived through it, saw how the outcast of a teen had slipped further and further into darkness after their O.W.L.s. He didn’t know what was wrong with him to be so foolish lately.

“That’s a very good point, Harry. And now that you mention that, I’m betting it’s not in one of his journals or notes. He’d likely hide something of that nature where no one would think to look, in case it was ever traced back to him.”

Harry sighed heavily and closed the journal in his hands, his forlorn expression coming back. They had been searching for two days already; he was starting to lose faith. “But you’ve already checked all of the books he had warded and protected. I don’t know where else it could be, Moony. What if it’s hidden in plain sight, sitting right in front of our noses, but it’s too late by the time we figure it out?”

“We’ll find it, Harry. Don’t give up yet, son. He wouldn’t give up on you so easily, so show a little more strength,” Remus said, gathering his son into his arms. He had also been starting to doubt they’d find the counter curse in time, but he hadn’t given himself the chance to dwell on the possibility, lest he fall apart completely. He was barely hanging on to his sanity as it was.

Remus had stayed to help with the search only reluctantly, leaving at night to sit with his husband and showing back up in the morning, looking completely exhausted and worse for wear. The man hadn’t slept in two days, and he doubted he would sleep again at all until Severus was well. He was getting more and more frantic as the Healers gave him more sympathetic looks every night. The wounds were refusing to cooperate and an infection was starting to take hold. One Healer’s suggestion of a stasis spell had sent Severus into convulsions. Remus hadn’t even been able to floo back to Hogwarts the next morning from crying, and had to be escorted by Tonks.

As Remus rubbed Harry’s back, his eyes trailed over the collection of old Hogwarts text books that Severus had kept for some reason. Every single book from every subject the man had taken as a Hogwarts student was there, but he couldn’t figure out why.

“Why would Severus keep his old text books? I don’t really think he’d ever use them as a reference; he surely has much better material for such things.”

Hermione looked up at Remus’ seemingly rhetorical question, a sudden thought occurring to her. If the Potions Professor had been so like her in other aspects, who’s to say they didn’t share one more quirk?

“I save all of my text books because I mark in them; make notes, highlight important information. It’s not really the book I want to keep, but the history of my academic progress,” Hermione explained, shrugging as Ron gave her an incredulous look and Draco snorted.

Remus suddenly let go of Harry and turned his full attention onto the shelf of Hogwarts texts. This was it; Harry was right. The counter curse was probably in plain sight, they’d just been looking too hard. He started grabbing the books that were all fifth year level and above and started a stack, handing books around to each person.

“Check every single page! The curse is ‘Sectumsempra’ and I’m hoping Severus wrote the counter curse on the same page or very near by it.”

Everyone abandoned their previous explorations and created a powwow on the floor surrounding the stack of books. There were quite a lot as, like Hermione, Severus had jam-packed his Hogwarts schedule every year. Remus had once heard the man say that there was no better distraction than distraction itself, and Severus certainly seemed to be an expert on that matter.

Remus hoped Severus would forgive him for any damage done to his books, as his frantic searching was starting to tear and wrinkle a few of the pages as he turned them rapidly. A loud gasp caught his attention, causing him to cast the book he was looking through aside and dive at Ginny, who looked like she may have found something.

“This is it; it’s says Sectumsempra, but I don’t see a – ”

“Let me see!” Remus said desperately, snatching the book out of her hands and earning a glare from the girl and her twin brothers. They knew he was worried beyond reason, however, and decided to ignore this rudeness for the time being. He flipped three pages before a few spidery words caught his eye.

‘Vulnera Sanentur – counter-curse to Sectumsempra and healing spell (?). Use three times for maximum affect.’

“I’ve got it!” Remus shouted as he stood and began to rush out of the room, belatedly remembering that he was at Hogwarts and could not apparate within the castle. He started rushing towards the entrance hall and the marble staircase that would take him towards the Head’s office to floo to St. Mungo’s when Harry caught up with him.

“Moony, let me go too! I want to see him!” Harry panted as he ran alongside Remus, who was running full speed up the many staircases, skidding to a halt to mutter the password to the stone gargoyle that guarded the head office.

“Harry, it’s not safe. Please, go back down to the dungeons and wait there. I’ll send back information as soon as I can,” Remus said as he stepped onto the ever-spiralling steps that led to the door of the Head’s office. Harry was right there with him, following him as he rushed to the hearth.

“Please, Remus! What if it’s too late, what if I don’t get another chance to see him again?”

Remus turned and grabbed Harry’s shoulders, perhaps more firmly than he had intended in his panic, causing the teen to hiss in pain. “Harry, I will not let that happen, but it is too dangerous for you to go with. I will be too distracted to keep an eye out and protect you. I know this is hard, but please be patient and wait here.”

Harry made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat, his eyes welling with tears as he finally gave a jerky nod and stepped back from the werewolf, who grabbed the jar of floo powder off the mantle and tossed a pinch in. He watched as his step-father stepped into the green flames and called out his destination in frantic tones. He stood there with tears streaming down his cheeks, not realizing how long he’d been there until he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind.

“He’ll be ok now, Harry. You’ll see. Come back down to the dungeons; Molly brought us some dinner,” Draco said quietly, kissing Harry gently on the cheek. He turned the brunette around and wiped the salty streaks from his face, brushing his messy locks back from his red and watery eyes.

“I just wanted to see him, Draco. I’m so scared I’m not going to see him again,” Harry choked out, letting the blonde pull him into a tight embrace. He buried his face in his boyfriend’s neck and sighed, wishing that he was at St. Mungo’s with his parents, but glad for his boyfriend’s presence.

S~S~S~S

It was early the next morning when there was a gentle knock on Harry’s bedroom door. It took him a few seconds to remember that he was back in the dungeon quarters and not at Grimmauld Place. He got up to answer the door, leaving Draco asleep curled up in his blankets.

“Wotcher, Harry!”

Harry smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his tired eyes. He had barely slept at all, and he wasn’t exactly glad for the early wake-up call, but he just couldn’t find it within himself to be annoyed with Tonks.

“Morning, Tonks. Any news?”

Tonks’ hair, which was the exact shade of green of Harry’s eyes, seemed to droop before said eyes, turning to chocolate curls that reached the middle of her back. Harry recognized that hair; it was Sirius’ hair. This must be what Tonks’ natural hair looked like.

“Yes, but not much. Remus said the counter-curse hasn’t been used yet because the Healer’s are trying to clear the infection out of Severus’ wounds before they try closing them. He said he’ll let you know as soon as anything changes. He also said that you all should head back to Headquarters because it’s safer and there’s no reason to stick around at Hogwarts. Besides, the rest of the group don’t look all that comfortable sleeping in various chairs or on the sofas out there,” Tonks said, thrusting her thumb over her shoulder to indicate the rest of the search party that had refused to leave and stayed in the dungeons that night as well.

Harry frowned, wishing that Tonks had come bearing better news. He was glad to hear something, however, instead of just waiting around clueless. He sighed when he saw all his friends sleeping in the armchairs or on the sofas, even Fred, George and Ron kipping on the floor so that Aurora, Ginny and Hermione could have the more comfortable surfaces. Lucius was sleeping on what looked like a cot transfigured from a throw pillow. Harry felt so lucky to have such loyal friends.

“I guess Moony’s right. Did you see my dad? How does he look?” Harry asked hopefully, though he wasn’t expecting any good news there either. He could only imagine how his father looked at present moment, and that wasn’t something he was keen on thinking about at all. He just wanted some reassurance.

Tonks frowned and grasped Harry’s shoulder gently. Her vibrant blue eyes turned slate grey and Harry felt his heart skip a beat. She looked so much like Sirius. The Black genes were strong, it seemed. “I did see him, Harry. He’s asleep because the Healers put him in a magical coma to help his body cope, but…he doesn’t look good, Harry, but that doesn’t mean anything. They can’t close his wounds because they’re cursed, and they have a protective force around him to keep any contamination away from his wounds, but…I don’t think you’d want to see him like this, Harry. You don’t want that to be your last memory of him if it comes to that.”

Harry felt his stomach churn at the thought of seeing his father with open wounds slashed across his body, asleep but easily mistaken for dead, and knew that Tonks was right. He wanted to make sure his father was ok, but there was nothing he could do, whether he was at St. Mungo’s or safe at home.

“Make sure Remus eats, please. He hasn’t slept in days and I doubt he’s eaten anything either, but he needs to keep his strength up. The full moon is next week, can you remind him of that as well, because I’m sure he’s not been paying attention to the calendar, and make sure he’s not panicking; talk to him if he needs it – ”

“Harry! Calm down, love. I’ll make sure he’s taken care of, alright? Don’t worry about Remus. Round up this group and head on over to Headquarters; I’m sure Molly is dying to feed you all some breakfast.”

After Harry had woken everyone, they all trooped up to the Head office to floo back to Headquarters. Professor McGonagall was there shuffling stacks of parchment around on her desk, looking as though she hadn’t slept in a few days herself.

“You lot be careful,” she told the assembled group as they lined up to use the floo. “I’ll be calling an Order meeting within the next couple of days. I do want Severus to be there, but we have many things to discuss and no time to waste.”

Molly did indeed have a huge breakfast made up and forced all of them to sit and eat, even though none of them had too big of an appetite after their trying last couple of days. Harry begged off after eating most of what was on his plate, Draco, Ron and Hermione joining him soon after. They sat around a table in the drawing room, staring at a small statuette in the middle. Its red eyes gleamed with the light of the candles and the tension in the air was thick.

“So that’s it,” Ron said unhelpfully, grimacing at the griffin as if it had done him some personal wrong. Hermione had a book open in front of her and the look of concentration on her face was quite intent.

“What I want to know is if the whole thing is a Horcrux, or if it’s just the eyes. I guess we should destroy the whole thing, just to be safe, after all. The problem is; how on earth are we to do that?”

Harry glared at the statuette, twirling his wand around in his hand. Hermione had a very good point. He assumed just the ruby was the Horcrux, but now that Hermione mentioned it, he was sure the entire thing needed to be destroyed, just in case. He just wished he knew how on earth he was going to do that. “I don’t really have any more clue than you do. The diary was destroyed by a basilisk fang, and I don’t even know how Dumbledore destroyed the ring. I wish he would have given me more information, I wish we had more time.”

“We’ll figure it out, Harry. There’s got to be a way to destroy them. If they can be created, they can be destroyed,” Draco assured his boyfriend. He wasn’t sure how confident he was, but he knew Harry needed the support, and he had to stay positive in order to help him.

“I just thought that he wouldn’t have left such an important detail out. He gave me so much information about possible Horcruxes and Tom Riddle’s life, but he didn’t tell me what the hell to do with these things. It just doesn’t make sense to me. If the greatest Wizard of his age couldn’t even figure it out, how am I supposed to? I can’t do this…”

Draco stood up and pulled Harry’s chair back, walked around and knelt before him. He took Harry’s trembling hands into his own and stared up into watery emerald so intense he could have gotten lost so easily. “You can, Harry, and you will. There are plenty of people willing to help, who are helping. You’re not allowed to give up, you hear me? That’s letting him win, letting him have the power he wants. Think of all the people you’ve lost because of him. You can’t give in, not now that you know what needs doing. We’ll figure this out, but you need to keep your faith in your abilities, or else we’re all doomed. Now snap out of it!”

Harry stared down at Draco, shocked at the blonde’s intensity, but glad that Draco had the bollocks to do what his other friends had not; knock some sense into him. He visibly pulled himself together and gave a firm nod, pulling Draco up and into his arms for a kiss. “I won’t give up, I promise.”

“Good,” Draco whispered, his forehead leaning against Harry’s as he continued to stare into the depths of his lover’s eyes. They really were a window to the soul, and Harry’s soul was not in a good place just then. Draco vowed to make sure he kept Harry sane, even if he found the task hard to do for himself.

S~S~S~S

The high backed chair felt as uncomfortable as if it had been made of ice and nails. Remus squirmed in his seat, wishing he could move closer, but stayed where he was, lest he get in the Healer’s way. After taking the protective charm off of Severus, the Healer’s had immediately began to clean the wounds with a combination of Muggle and Magical means, trying to clear out the infection enough so that the wounds could heal now that they had the counter-curse.

Remus had run as fast as he could, had given the counter-curse to the Healer’s in a desperate rush, and then he was told to sit back and wait. They couldn’t cast the counter-curse yet, and Remus was highly agitated. After all that searching, that desperation to get the counter-curse to the Healers, he still had to sit and wait. He wanted to be angry at the Healers, to rant and rave and tell them to do more, to save his husband, damn them! But he knew it was not their fault, they were doing all they could.

Remus didn’t want to blame anyone, but he had to. Someone had to be responsible for the debacle. How on earth had the Death Eaters known they would be in Diagon Alley on that particular morning, during that specific time? Someone had to have told them, leaked the information, but who? Did they unknowingly give it away, or was there another spy in their midst, another Peter Pettigrew? Just thinking about that slimy rat made Remus want to tear him limb from limb, and the thought that history could be repeating itself made him sick.

He was lost in his pondering when he heard what sounded like a song being chanted, the rest of the noise in the ward strangely gone. He looked up and saw the Head Healer of St. Mungo’s tracing the wounds littering Severus, chanting the counter-curse three times in a row. Remus stood and moved a bit closer, gasping when he saw the torn and sliced flesh begin to meld and knit itself back together, the skin raw and red. After the third incanting, another Healer moved forward and began to treat the healed wounds with Essence of Dittany, but even after two applications, the scars would not fade.

“We’ll let him sleep a little longer to get used to the counter-curse and treat him with some more healing potions to get rid of any lingering infection, then we’ll wake him. I’m confident that he’ll be alright now, however. You did well, Mr. Lupin-Snape.”

Remus took the offered hand and shook it as if in a daze before completely ignoring the Healers and making his way to his husband’s side, where for the first time in three days, Remus could take hold of Severus’ hand. He felt the tears sliding down his cheeks and was glad that a Healer had thought to move his chair closer to the bed as his knees gave way and he fell heavily into it. The feel of Severus’ smooth, warm hand within his own seemed to thaw the ice that had grown over his heart, breaking him out of his inferi-like state and making him feel human once more. His husband was going to be ok.

S~S~S~S

The feeling of being an outcast was not one that Lucius was very familiar with. In any group, he had always been charismatic and charming enough to be accepted, to be included. Now, however, he felt he had no place, no direction. He was there for his son, and he was there to help the Order in whatever they may need, but he did not feel he had any business being where he was.

Stumbling across the information that the Dark Lord had taken the ultimate step towards immortality by making multiple Horcruxes shouldn’t have surprised Lucius all that much, but it did. The enigmatic man he had sworn loyalty to as a very young man was gone, a mad creature now ruling in his place. Lucius had been willing to do many things to achieve his ends, but even he knew when enough was enough.

Watching from afar as his son comforted Harry Potter, promised the young man that he’d be there for him, encouraging him not to give up was a sight to see. He would never have expected to end up in this situation, of course, but now that he was, he couldn’t find it in his heart to blame the brunette for taking all of his son’s attention. He was glad Harry had Draco to rely on and encourage him when his own courage began to give out, and only wished that his wife was there to offer him the same condolences.

Upon hearing that Dumbledore had not specified how to destroy these Horcruxes, Lucius began to think hard. He knew of Horcruxes only vaguely, and what he did know he had learned from ancient, archaic tomes that had been passed down through the Malfoy family for centuries. He remembered reading about the old uses of soul magic, and had even researched to find out if it was now illegal, which it was. It was so illegal in fact that hardly anyone even knew it existed anymore. It was considered so dark and heinous to mess about with the soul that the art had been all but erased from Magical history.

Unless the Dark Lord had taken over the Manor and done away with his possessions, Lucius knew those old books were still in the library at Malfoy Manor, and though he could not recall specifically ever reading about how to destroy Horcruxes, he thought that the books may be helpful in some way.

“I may have a way to obtain some more information on the matter, if I may?” Lucius interjected as he stood from the armchair he had been resting in while the other’s had their powwow at the table. They either hadn’t been aware he was in the room, or else they hadn’t cared what he heard.

Harry looked up at the elder Malfoy, surprised that the man was still in the room. It was a good thing he already knew of the Horcruxes, or they would have just given themselves away. “What do you mean? Did Voldemort ever mention them to you?”

Lucius flinched at the use of his prior master’s name, but otherwise ignored it as he took an empty seat at the table, across from his son and beside Hermione. “No, the Dark Lord never mentioned anything to me about any Horcruxes. Seeing as how I was one of his most trusted Death Eaters, I should think if he were to tell any of us about them, I would have been one of them. No, I think he kept that information all to himself, and rightfully so. Though he may have trusted me, he knew there was always a chance of betrayal. The Dark Lord is not a stupid man, morals notwithstanding.

“The information I might have is actually in a set of very old books, passed down through the generations of Malfoys. From my research, it seems as though the Malfoy family owns the last known copies of these books, as the others were all hunted down and destroyed so that the knowledge could not be spread any more. These tomes are on the archaic practice of Soul Magic, which is nearly completely unheard of these days.”

“The Cartus Animarum? Those books were hardly even in English! How did you understand any of it?” Draco asked curiously. He knew of which books his father spoke; they were the oldest in the Malfoy library, under many spells to help preserve them. They were also books that his parents had forbid him from reading, but since rules were created to be broken, he had of course attempted. The wording was so archaic and strange that he’d not been able to make head nor tails of it, and he had given up the attempt.

Lucius sent a mild glare at his son, who had of course been forbidden from going anywhere near those books. He couldn’t hold it against the boy however; he had done the same thing after his own father had forbid him from reading the tomes. “Many years of practice taught me how to translate such ancient language into a more modern context. Though I am not sure they will be of any help at all, it never hurts to make sure. I could bring them here for Ms. Granger and myself to look through; I’m sure she’s well versed in translating difficult literature.”

“You can’t be serious, Father! You can’t go back to the Manor; it’s too dangerous. If the Dark Lord is not there himself, he’ll surely have people watching it to make sure we don’t attempt to enter again,” Draco insisted, nearly rising out of his chair to impart his seriousness to his father. It would be mental to enter that house again.

“Do not mistake me for a fool, Draco. I am not foolish enough to simply walk up and traipse through the door like some common house elf. I have ways of getting into the Manor undetected. It is one of the many perks of being the Head of the Malfoy family. Some day you too will know these things, but do not think for a second I would risk myself or anyone else by being so obvious,” Lucius hissed, giving his son a disdainful look. Hanging about with Gryffindors had clearly begun to rot the poor boy’s mind.

Draco shrunk back down into his seat, his cheeks aflame in shame and embarrassment. His father still knew all too well how to hit him where it hurt. He was sure he’d never be able to shame people as expertly as his father could, though he wasn’t very sure if that was a talent he ever wanted to acquire.

Sending an understanding look towards his boyfriend, Harry turned to Lucius, who was still sneering at his son. The man had changed, of course, but he still wasn’t Harry’s favourite person. “If you can get in and bring us those books, we would really appreciate it, sir. If they mention Horcruxes at all, they just might be what we’re looking for.”

“They do mention Horcruxes; that is how I learned about them. Whether it states how to destroy them, however, is unknown to me. If I had read anything of the sort, I do not recall, but that’s not to say that the information is not within these tomes somewhere. I will travel to Malfoy Manor tonight and retrieve them.”

Harry felt the tension in his chest unravel a little, though he would not allow himself to become excited. There was no guarantee these books would be helpful at all, but it was more than they had been able to come up with so far, and allowing a little bit of hope to seep through the dark disappointment was ok. “Thank you, sir. I really do appreciate you taking such a risk.”

“I daresay I owe it to you, Mr. Potter,” Lucius drawled with a smirk that Harry had seen grace Draco’s face countless times before. The man was most certainly a Slytherin.

S~S~S~S

Four large, steel and leather spine tomes sat heavily on the rectangular table in the library at Grimmauld Place. Hermione and Ginny had spent an entire day clearing out all of the dust and other unpleasant things that invaded a house when it was left to its own devices from the library so that it could be usable for research purposes. Lucius had come back from Malfoy Manor laden with the heavy tomes early the morning before, unscathed and unconcerned about is trek into his former home. He and Hermione had immediately begun pouring over the books, the only two who could even make sense of the language in which they were written. Harry had tried to read a single paragraph and had immediately been plagued with a headache.

Instead, Harry, Draco, Ron and Ginny were left brainstorming the places that the other Horcruxes could be located in. Harry still thought that Hogwarts was a good possibility, and Draco was fairly certain that one must be in Godric’s Hollow where Harry was born, but they were sure of nothing. As much as Harry wanted to go out and investigate, no one would let him leave, and especially not on his own. Little as he wanted to get the Order involved again and risk more people getting hurt, Harry knew he had to be patient, but he felt as though time was running out, and the longer he waited, the more desperate he was starting to feel.

It was during one these brainstorming sessions two days after finding the counter-curse to Sectumsempra that Harry heard a voice he had feared he’d never hear again. It was more beautiful than phoenix song.

“Such diligent students, and even during summer holidays,” the voice drawled, though it sounded weaker and more teasing than Harry had ever heard it before. He whipped around in his chair and then nearly toppled over in his haste to rush to his father’s arms.

“Dad! You’re alright; you’re here!” Harry exclaimed, holding the Potions Master close as everyone else came over to greet the man and express their pleasure at his recovery. He was hugging the man so tight he was sure he couldn’t breathe properly, but he couldn’t convince himself to let go until Remus started to pull him away. He was almost faint with relief that his father was ok.

“He’s still fairly weak, Harry. Give him some breathing room,” Remus instructed, though he had a huge smile on his face as he pulled Harry into a hug. He had thought about sending a message ahead for Harry to tell him that Severus would be coming home, but he thought surprising him would be more fun.

After Harry pulled away from Remus, he saw that the werewolf was helping to support Severus, who looked more pale and tired than Harry had ever seen him, but that was not the most shocking thing. Livid, raised scars marred his face and neck, even his hands; any visible flesh. They looked fresh and even painful, and Harry felt a flare of anger in the pit of his stomach rush through his very veins and light his heart on fire.

Severus saw his son’s reaction to the scars now littering his person and gave a sad smile. “They are permanent, though the Healers say they will begin to fade over time. They’re cursed scars, so even dittany could not remove them, not after so long without any treatment. But it’s alright; now Remus and I have one more thing in common.”

Remus smiled at his husband and pulled him into a quick kiss. “We just wanted to come assure you all that Severus is alive and well, but now he must be getting back to bed. He still needs plenty of rest to recuperate. Molly said to tell you lot that lunch will be ready in half an hour, and not to get too lost in your books and be an hour late…again. I’ll join you shortly,” Remus assured his son, reaching over to wipe the few tears on Harry’s cheeks away. Everything was going to be just fine now, they would all see.

S~S~S~S

After making sure Severus was comfortable in bed, Remus lay down next to his husband, the book the Healers had returned to him upon their retreat from the hospital clutched in his hands. It was both sickening and a Godsend.

“Why did you ever create such a curse, Severus?” Remus asked quietly. He looked down at the pale man, who was lying on his back, the covers pulled up to his bare chest. He slid the blanket down a little and very gently traced the angry scars that littered the man’s chest like lattice work, so very like his own cursed scars.

“It was a very dark time in my life, Remus. Besides, I was simply curious about spell creation. I never intended for that spell to ever be used by anyone else. I’m still not sure how it got spread as it did. I must have slipped up and mentioned it to someone at some point, but I cannot remember.”

Remus was flipping idly through the pages, pausing every now and then at another scribbled note in the margins. He reached the back cover and was about to set it aside when he paused.

“‘Property of the Half-Blood Prince’,” he read aloud, looking down at Severus once more, who actually blushed, much to his surprise. “What’s that all about?”

“I fancied myself to have a bit of an alter ego in my teen years. I thought that if I used an alias, a name that no one could associate with the likes of me, my research and work would be taken more seriously. Clearly I was delusional, but I was also a love-sick teenager.”

“But why ‘Half-Blood Prince’? What does it mean?” Remus asked, quite curious now. He had known that Severus had not been very well liked in their Hogwarts years, but he never knew the man had been so ashamed that he came up with a separate person for people to look on.

“My mother’s maiden name was Prince, and since I was not all too proud of being a Snape, I decided to drop that part of myself. I’m a half-blood, but I am also a Prince. I thought it was sufficiently vague enough so that no one would ever know it was Severus Snape behind the mask. Like I said, I was a foolish boy.”

“We all were, Severus. But I’m sorry you felt you needed to become someone else for people to accept you. I know I never made things any easier for you, and I apologize for that. James and Sirius were wretched, but I wasn’t much better, ignoring everything they did,” Remus admitted, brushing a lock of ebony hair away from his husband’s deep blue eyes.

Severus turned his head and brushed his lips tenderly against Remus’ hand. “What’s done is done, Remus. I’ve already forgiven you for any past discretion. I love you.”

Remus swallowed past the lump forming in his throat and leaned down, pressing his lips firmly to Severus’, wrapping an arm around the man as he deepened the kiss. “I love you too, Severus. Please don’t ever leave me like that again.”

Remus stayed with Severus until he fell asleep, his scar riddled chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm with his heart. He pressed a kiss to the man’s forehead and smiled. “You’ll always be my Prince, Severus.”