The Slytherin growled, turning sharply to pin Remus with a glare. "I have not," he insisted. Remus chuckled.
"It's okay to admit it," he teased, a hand sliding down Severus' lapel. "You can glare all you want, but I know the truth. I know there's something here." He gave a gentle pat to the man's ribs, right over his heart. "I've been rather selfish with it all these years, but I suppose I can learn to share." Honestly, seeing Harry start to warm to Severus, seeing the Slytherin let down his barriers in turn — Remus had never been more in love with him in his life. For the first time, it felt like he could truly have this. All of it. All the best parts of his life, together.
Suddenly, Severus' arm snaked around his waist, pulling him in close. Severus' breath was hot on his neck, sending a thrill down Remus' spine. "I assure you, wolf," he murmured, in that dangerously sexy drawl. "Despite what those foolish teenagers may believe, despite what you think — the last thing I am is soft." His thigh slipped between Remus', making the Gryffindor aware of a rather large bulge in his trousers. Remus smirked.
"Hmm, I suppose you're not, are you?" he agreed, allowing Severus to push him towards the bedroom door, his blood running hot through his veins. In the morning, they'd have to deal with the oncoming shitstorm that was the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry's unexpected involvement in it. But the morning was a long way off.
.-.-.-. There was a heavy knot of anxiety in Harry's stomach when he woke up on Sunday morning, and it took him a minute to remember why. The events of the evening before came rushing back to him, and he pulled his duvet up over his head with a groan. What if he just didn't get up? Ever? They couldn't make him compete if they couldn't get him out of bed.
Sadly, he knew better. A quick Tempus charm showed him it was well into breakfast time, and he grimaced. He had no hope of avoiding everyone at this time of day.
He was the only one in the dorm when he drew his curtains back, and he was glad for the silence as he got dressed. He wasn't ready for another argument with Ron, yet.
Unfortunately, once he got down to the common room he was greeted by another round of raucous applause. The thought of going to the Great Hall and dealing with the people down there sounded like hell, but he needed to eat, and he couldn't stay in Gryffindor Tower when it was like this. He could already see the Creevey brothers on their way over. Maybe he could sneak into the kitchens for breakfast; he'd seen it on the Marauder's Map.
The decision was taken out of his hands, however, when he stepped out of the portrait hole to be greeted by Neville Longbottom's smiling face — and a sausage sandwich wrapped in a napkin, which was quickly shoved his way. "Brought you this," Neville said by way of greeting. "Figured you wouldn't fancy going down to breakfast."
"Neville, you're a godsend," Harry declared, accepting the sandwich graciously. "Is it bad down there?"
Neville winced. "It's… not great." That admission meant it was likely terrible, and Harry cursed. It would be second year all over again, only instead of thinking he was out to kill them, half the school merely thought he was trying to steal the limelight and break the rules. Fantastic. "Want to go for a walk?" Neville offered. Harry nodded; anything to avoid the crowds of people. Harry didn't have his cloak, but he did have his Silverling's jacket on, so the pair of them headed down to the Entrance Hall and out to the grounds. Everyone they passed stared at Harry, and whispers followed in his wake. It was awful.
"Of course I knew you didn't do it," Neville said with a roll of his eyes, when Harry asked if the round-faced boy believed him. "You hate attention. Ron's still being an idiot about it, though — I don't think he really believes you did it, but he's jealous all the same." The taller Gryffindor snorted. "If he was going to have an issue with being sidelined, he shouldn't have befriended the Boy-Who-Lived," he added in a mutter. "Maybe he thought being friends with you would get him some glory of his own."
The offhand remark reminded Harry suddenly of the letter from Gorrak, and the revelation about Mrs Weasley. Some glory of his own… The pieces were coming together, and Harry didn't like the picture they were making.
He glanced around. They were by the lake, not far from where Harry had sat with Draco the day before, and there was no one around. "Neville," he said slowly. "I know I've asked you to keep a lot of secrets for me so far. But there's a few more I haven't told you yet. Can wewould you sit down with me for a bit?" He gestured to the tree he'd sat by yesterday. Neville's face was serious. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Harry," he said. "It's okay." Harry shook his head.
"No, I want to. I trust you." He did Neville had proven himself a solid friend in the last year, and Harry hated to think there were things Ron and Hermione knew that he didn't. Besides, maybe the other boy could help him make sense of it all. He needed people on his side.
The two of them settled down at the base of the tree, facing each other, and Harry put up the strongest privacy wards he knew. Only then did he tell Neville everything — about Sirius and Remus, everything that had happened the year before and over the summer, right up to the letter from Gorrak. Neville listened patiently, his face going through a myriad of emotions. The only thing Harry didn't tell him was the truth about Snape's relationship with Remus, and his status as a Death Eater spy; some secrets weren't his to share.
"Blimey," he said when Harry finally finished. "I thought it was bad when you told me about the magic block. You have been busy, haven't you?" Harry snorted.
"Just a bit, yeah," he agreed. "So you see where I'm at. I need to start getting things together — I can't just sit around and wait until Dumbledore reveals his plan. I can't let him get away with stealing my money and my magic. I have to be ready to reveal it on my own terms."
"Well however me and Gran can help, we'd be happy to," Neville assured without hesitation. Harry's shoulders slumped in relief. "I figured you weren't at your muggle relatives this summer, from some of the things you said in your letters. But… I'm glad you've got somewhere to go that's safe, where you're happy." Harry raised an eyebrow at him, and Neville's gaze grew pointed. "I've seen the bruises, Harry, and the scars. And I can tell from the way you talk about them. Those muggles aren't good people."
Harry grimaced; he hadn't realised Neville had seen so much. The boy was more observant than anyone gave him credit for. "All that doesn't matter, now," he dismissed, not wanting to get into it about the Dursleys. "I won't have to stay with them for more than a day or so, hopefully."
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