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Dead Man's Bones

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"An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered." - G.K.Chesterton

Harry shifted restlessly in his bed. He flexed his fingers tiredly, the tingling that had started in his fingertips had now spread up his right arm and traveled across his chest. He hadn't bothered to tell anyone about the strange feelings that had appeared days ago, not feeling that it warranted concern. However, wherever the sheets brushed against his skin he felt a strange sensation rush through him, unfortunately tonight it caused a most unbecoming tightening in his lower regions.

He looked over at the closed door, sure in the fact that the rest of the household was fast asleep. Closing his eyes, Harry let his mind wander while he slowly dragged his fingers across his lips, down his throat and towards his abdomen. His pulse became a quick staccato beat under his finger tips as he teased his bare flesh. He ran just the tips of his nails up and down, eliciting a quiet moan as goose-flesh rose in their wake. Harry wasn't aware that wherever he touched small sparks of gold were flying up along his skin, but he was quickly clutching at the sheets around him and panting quietly as the ecstasy rushed through him. This marvelous bubbling phenomenon was nothing like Harry had ever felt before, he wasn't sure he should be afraid or just welcome it as a gift. His breath quickened, he didn't even have to touch his skin anymore to feel the tingling, it was as though the very air around him was causing the pressure of it and it was as though he was flying. Harry's eyes flew open and there he was, hovering about a foot off the bed, his head thrown back, crying out through the best orgasm of his life. With a loud 'thump', he landed on the stiff mattress and laughed tiredly. He had to see someone about this.
--
Hogwarts.
Harry smiled fondly at the grey peaks of the castle as he made his way up the crooked pathway. Class days weren't set to start for another month and a half, so the journey was eerily silent. Most of the damage had been repaired after the battle and with it people were able to move on. Harry was happy to realize that though the death toll was high it could have been much worse had Neville and the others not helped as they had. Thoughts of Neville, invariably brought them to Ginny and how well the other two were getting on. It lifted a weight that had been set heavily on Harry's shoulders.

Perhaps it was due to a hex from the battle, but he felt as though he were going through changes and they were beginning to worry him. Harry felt the need to confirm his suspicions with someone, preferably with someone he trusted. Thus the reason for his visit to Hogwarts. Madame Pompfrey would surely be able to help him now that everything had calmed down at the school.

Within moments of crossing the warded area, he knew something was extremely wrong as he felt the magic surge up around him. It began to react to him in such a way that Harry had never seen before. It licked up at his skin and danced across him in golden sparks like fiendfyre. Perhaps it was because he was no longer a student? Harry was suddenly aware that the earlier sensation had returned full force. He tried to escape the whirlwind of electric light but it was piercing and continued to engulf him in its intoxicating heat. Quickly he was overwhelmed, and he could hear someone yelling off into the distance as everything faded to black.
--
He awoke sometime later in the evening, in the cover of the shadows. Something was bearing down on top of him, a strong weight holding him still. It was a struggle to breathe through the heft of it. The sheets were scratching against his sensitive skin and he gasped in shock. He could hear several voices arguing back and forth heatedly. His head was swimming with sensation, their words blurring together, like bees humming inside of his skull, pleasantly buzzing and fluttering, making a wonderful symphony. Lulling him into a soft slumber, yet one voice rose above the rest. Harry's eyes fluttered open briefly. The dulcet voice cutting through the humming and Harry could think for a moment. He could understand.

"The magic is becoming detrimental to Potter's physical being. If the suppressant charm is not removed immediately it could very well kill him."

"Severus is correct, Minerva. If the charm is left in its current condition any longer, the damage may be irreversible."

"And you're certain Poppy? Of his condition?"

Their voices carried away, moving down the corridor. Harry couldn't make them out anymore.The bees were back, humming against his ears. Eventually they lulled Harry back to sleep.
--
He was flying. Laughter erupted from his wind-chapped lips as stars fell all around him. They were flying with him along the tips of his wings. They sparkled like sprites, pretty little gem-like faeries. They danced and teased mercilessly against his skin. He was free here. In the sky, with nothing but the clouds to breathe, the wind to laugh with, and the stars to sing to.
--
A mug of some kind of rancid concoction was thrust under his nose. Harry immediately tried to move away from the terrifying object, but it followed close behind.

"Drink it, or lose functional limbs."

Harry now knew better than to distrust the man sitting before him, so he gulped down the disgusting mixture. Oddly enough, it tasted heavily of liquorice with a bitter aftertaste. Almost immediately the constant thrumming around him stopped. The persistent insects stilled and Harry sighed with relief when clarity finally came to him.

"What happened?" He rasped. His throat felt raw as though he'd been screaming for hours throughout the night.

"The Headmistress will see to you about that complication. For now, I'm to administer your herbal tisane and monitor your reaction to its effects."

"Secretly hoping for a fatal result then?"

"Desperately."

"I'm glad things haven't changed."

Snape continued to glare at him, which honestly Harry found was an improvement from the cold stare he was used to receiving after saving the older man's life. Everyone thought Severus Snape was dead after the battle, including Harry. So when Harry brought the man back to Hogwarts more than half-dead, it had created a distilled quiet between the two. He wouldn't put it past Snape to hate him for thinking he owed Harry a life debt, just as he had with his father. Harry knew how much he owed this man, he owed this man his very breath that he took, he just didn't know how to go about thanking him for it. Harry honestly wanted to try. He felt awful for the wrongs done to Snape, for the wrongs that he had done to him. He had stayed by the man's side when he was on death's door, helping as much as possible. He had changed his bandages and spoon fed the bastard, but as soon as he was better and could do it himself, he cast Harry aside. Perhaps it was for the better, but Harry wanted to thank him for saving his life. Perhaps he should try now, so he did. Harry smiled. Snape's glare transformed quickly into a frown.

"As I feared, it's caused an averse reaction. I'll need to adjust the aniseed." He rose, gathering his robes around him like great wings. Wings. Hm.

"I was flying."

That stopped the other mans retreat.

"I had wings, in my dream. I was flying. There were stars dancing all around me and I felt this incredible pull to find something. No, I'm sorry, that's wrong. Someone. I have to find someone."

Harry looked up at Snape pleading, "What's going on? Please? Just tell me."

Snape's eyes closed for a moment, he seemed to deliberate for a moment. His eyebrows creased, as his right finger tapped against his left forearm. Finally, his eyes snapped open and one word spilled forth, "Come".
--
Before being discharged from the infirmary, Harry had to be outfitted in a strange set of scrubs that according to Madame Pompfrey, who looked extremely displeased, dispelled magic. He wiggled his toes in the neon green slippers as he struggled to understand what the hell was going on. They reminded him of Headmaster Dumbledore. As soon as he was ready, he followed the Professor to the Headmistress' office.

The office had changed significantly since he'd last seen the inside of its chamber walls. Its changes varied from Headmaster Dumbledore's odd trinkets to Snape's potion bottles and now to McGonagall's own strange knick-knacks. There was something glowing on the corner of her desk that made a mild thrumming noise. Its muted blue hue reminded Harry of elven magic that he'd read about in Charms once before.

"Ah, Severus. Mr. Potter, Please, Have a seat. Would the both of you care for some tea?"

"Potter here would like his questions answered."

Harry saw a silent communication travel between the two professors that he wasn't privy to and cleared his throat.

"As much as I enjoy Professor Snape helping me," the for once went unspoken as Harry took a breath and forged ahead, "I came here to get answers. Frankly, I'm frightened that Voldemort - sorry Professor," He apologized as he saw Snape flinch. "I'm afraid that he cursed me, and it's only just rearing it's ugly head now. It's beginning to effect my everyday activities. I don't want to be coddled with tea and biscuits."

McGonagall met Harry's stare and gave a heavy sigh, "You are whole-heartily entitled to this truth. I apologize for skirting the issue, but I have no idea how to go about informing you of your current condition." She gave a tired smile.

"I'm dying, then?" Harry held her eyes with his own. Her eyes widened fractionally in surprise.

"Oh dear, No! Nothing so serious as..." A cough to Harry's left reminded him of Snape's presence, not that he had ever forgotten.

"Minerva, tell him." His eyes glittered like chips of black marble stone, they pierced through the perfectly still woman, and Harry wondered if Snape had the power to render people to stone, but then Harry was still made of flesh so that was a moot matter.

She gave the other gentlemen a nod of approval and bowed her head and looked down upon her folded hands.

"The truth, Harry, is that prior knowledge of your heritage was kept hidden away for your safety. The effects and symptoms you have been experiencing of recent are part of that birthright."

"My birthright? I'm sorry, I don't think I quite follow."

Harry looked between the two but only saw one seething in a quiet rage while the other deliberated on her words.

"Apparently, Headmaster Dumbledore, as no other could cast such an extraordinary spell, encased you in a suppressant charm of sorts. Unfortunately, due to the Headmasters passing, it is now breaking down. It is magically, as well as physically, causing you harm. Which is why it is imperative for the charm to be removed."

"Why now? I mean to say, The Headmaster's death was nearly a year ago, why is it acting up now?"

"That, I believe, has more to do with your heritage and Rite of Kin than the actual charm."

"My what? This is all very confusing. I don't think I understand at all."

"You're a veela, Potter." Snape's deep dulcet voice cut through the thick tension that was rising in the room, "And you're coming of age, or at least your 17th birth year is roughly a week away. Have you been having any back pains?" Harry nodded slowly in confusion.

"Why would that matter?"

Snape's eyes were piercing through him, "Because your wings, the ones in your dreams are beginning to manifest. They will emerge on your birthday, or that is what tradition calls for in males."

"Why was the charm put there in the first place?"

Snape snorted in disapproval, "Obviously, you've read nothing on magical creatures or their dark counterparts or else you would've known that male Veelas are highly susceptible to magic in their coming of age years. Simply put, when they're around magic and others with magic, their own magic becomes almost intolerable and completely out of hand. Dangerously so."

"Can we just put another charm on me?"

McGonagall held his gaze for a moment and shook her head slowly, "We're not even sure if we'd be able to re-create such a spell on our own. What the Headmaster did here, Harry, has never been done before. Usually male veela are, well, they don't usually live to their coming of age year. This is why it's such a sensitive matter. Do you understand?"

"Do I want to know why they don't get to see their 17th year?"

McGonagall's sad smile and teary eyes made Harry's throat close up in terror, "It's a matter of your wings Harry, and how much magic you possess. Sometimes, a large amount of magic can cause the body to break down, however normally the ministry gets involved with their paranoia and it turns into a rather vulgar affair. I'm sure we'll figure something out. For now, I've had the house elves ready a set of quarters for you down in the dungeons near Severus. This way, if you need anything, he'll be able to administer the appropriate potions and herbal remedies necessary. I sent off a message to the Weasley's, informing them of your living arrangements. You were staying with them, correct?"

Harry nodded numbly as he fought to hold it together. He fought so hard and here he was going to die anyway. He could feel Snape watching him out of the corner of his eye, no doubt glad for his fate. Harry refused to look, he wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction.

"Harry we must remove the charm now, are you ready?"

He looked up quickly, nearly giving himself whiplash, and nodded again. It took both of them to remove the heavy ward on his skin. The pull of it, the flashes of magic, the leaps of the gold flecks and sparks like wild fire danced and flickered all around him. As quickly as it began, in a whirlwind of bursting flame, it erupted and cascaded into sparkling gold flakes. Harry blinked a few times and watched as both of his Professors slumped tiredly into their chairs.

In a mad rush, everything began to swim for Harry then. He gripped at the arms of the chair and breathed through his nose deeply. Some of the gold flakes flew in spirals, making the most wonderful patterns, like pollen on a nice breeze. He could feel them watching him.

"Severus, he doesn't look well."

"It would seem he's having a hostile response to the peyote in the tea I gave him earlier. I expected this when we were in the infirmary. He'll be sick."

They led him down to his new rooms to put him to rest, which was an arduous task, especially how the both of them hovered out of reach and wouldn't allow him to touch them. He wanted to ask them why that was, but dared not open his mouth for fear of what else might come out. Unfortunately, Harry didn't get much sleep that evening because he was ill throughout the night and spent most of it holed up in the loo.
--
Things didn't appear any fairer in the light of the morning as Harry's inner Gryffindor might have hoped. Harry woke up aching all over due to the Peyote - Aniseed herbal mixture that was meant to restrain his magic in lieu of the suppressant charm. As soon as Harry was awake though, he understood the charms importance.

Every breath he took was filled with the magic that surrounded him. He could feel the cleaning charms on the cotton sheets scratching against his skin, the faint tinkling of the wards on his chamber doors, and feel the very essence of Hogwarts herself. The magic was massive, breath taking in its complicated nature, and yet immediately Harry knew it didn't matter where he went. He could feel the magic's tendrils wriggling down below, coming straight from the earth, that's where Hogwarts pulled her strength.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He could feel his own magic mingling with the castles. Hogwarts magic was pulling at his, siphoning it away from his own body. What had McGonagall mentioned the previous night? Something about it causing his body to deteriorate? It was as though Hogwarts were trying to protect him from his dreadful fate. Harry felt comforted by that, which made him smile. He snuggled down into the thick duvet and lounged a few moments longer. Eventually, he gingerly got up and set his feet on the stone floor. His feet felt like there were covered in pins and needles, but that was due to the magic left by the warming charm on the floor. It didn't quite set right with his own. He'd have to make a note to wear slippers. Where had the neon pair got to anyhow? Harry could barely remember the night before, he had been so exhausted from being ill.

He yawned, and stretched languidly. Without warning a loud ripping noise filled the room. Harry's eyes flew open as the most excruciating pain he'd ever felt snapped through him, worse than any curse he'd ever had the displeasure to encounter. For a quiet moment Harry felt he was on the very threshold of Hell itself, as an all searing pain consumed him. Fire spread along his nerve endings, curling up and over his flesh. He could feel something hot and wet against his back, it was soaking through his night clothes. All at once Harry felt sick and dizzy all over again. His eyes rolled up inside of his skull and time seemed still.

Something exploded around him, but Harry wasn't really aware of much. Then there was a weight crushing against him, heavy against his chest. Harry tried desperately to struggle against it, but its oppressive strength was too much for him.

"Fool! Quit struggling lest you rend one of your wings. You utter buffoon." Dark eyes searched his face.

Harry could hear the urgency hidden just beneath the surface of that voice and let himself go limp even as the pain surged through him. He could feel the fear rolling off of Snape. If Snape were afraid, then Merlin knew what Harry had done now. Somewhere in the still of Snape holding him and Harry clutching his black robes, with Harry's blood soaking through. Harry could almost enjoy it, mind you, almost. He was still in a lot of pain, but the man was holding him. Perhaps Snape wasn't a complete bastard after all.

Harry was panting through his clenched teeth, with his hands convulsing in Snape's robes. He shuddered and could feel cold, wet tears on his cheeks. Slowly, He felt something against his forehead that felt marvelous.Harry's eyes fluttered close from the soft pleasure given to him as the taller man stroked his forehead. It almost felt like a lightening strike slicing through his body. A soft pulse of electric warmth running through him, eliciting a soft moan out of him. If Harry had been in a frame of mind to care he'd have been embarrassed beyond belief.

"Breaking the mold again, are we Potter? You just couldn't wait for your birthday, could you?" Snape's deep voice cut through the sleepy haze that was encompassing him. Truthfully, Harry probably shouldn't fall asleep.

"Keep breathing through your nose or you'll pass out."

Harry did as he was told and continued to clench his teeth in pain, but the stroking never stopped. The man cared. Who knew? Harry found he didn't mind in the least.
--
An hour later, Harry was trussed up like a greek mummy, sporting nothing but a towel about his waist like a toga with too many bandages to speak of. His wings, the great ripping sound as Harry had found out, spanned roughly four meters in each direction, though Harry had yet to stretch them to their full capacity. There simply wasn't enough room, and they were still tender. Harry was also fearful of anything touching them as the very air made them sting like fiendfyre itself was upon them.

The skin on Harry's back, spanning from the top of his shoulders down to the back of his heels, was shredded completely. Apparently, reports of wings "erupting" from a male veela's back was a bit more literal than they let on. Madame Pompfrey was fussing over him as per usual, but what Harry found more disconcerting was that Snape held vigil in the far corner the entire time. McGonagall had stopped in earlier to check on him but had left once she knew he was in good hands. Harry understood she was still busy with the school repairs and preparations for the start of school.

After worrying over him a bit more, Madame Pompfrey instructed him to eat a good meal and get a bit of rest. Harry didn't point out that he just woke up, prior to the whole ordeal and was fully rested. Nor did he inform her that he couldn't fall asleep after he just inherited wings. As he thought about them, they twitched and fluttered behind him in frustration. Did that mean he could fly? Were they functional? He'd have to start somewhere small. He obviously wasn't going be leaping off the astronomy tower any time soon.

As soon as Madame Pompfrey bustled out of his chambers, Harry looked over at Snape and expected the thunderous rant to begin. Snape was staring down at the stone floor, as he had been for most of the past hour.

"You're not going to force more of that tea on me, are you? I'm pretty sure Madame Pompfrey said to eat something and I'd like to keep it down for a bit first." That jarred Snape out of his consideration of the floor. There was already a heavy scowl on the man's face which caused Harry to smile.

"You nearly die, and yet all you can do is ridicule my inability to brew your potion properly?"

Once again, Snape had twisted his words and was on the defense. Harry had to do some damage control before the other man came to his senses and stormed off.

"I suppose I think it's odd how quickly you came to my aid, when earlier you were hoping for my ill health. I'm sorry I teased you. I didn't mean it." Harry shrugged which made his right wing stretch out further, it bumped into the bedpost and Harry hissed in pain. "Ow, that smarts."

Snape arched an eyebrow in query.

"They're extremely sensitive. I can feel, well, everything. The air all around, the magic in it, even yours though you're halfway across the room. I guess it's another thing I'm going to have to get used to."

"They're sensitive? Do they hurt?" His eyes were critical in their inspection of his wings, looking for cuts or bruises perhaps. Even though Snape had been there when Madame Pompfrey had stripped him and asked the same genial questions. Harry didn't think he'd ever felt as naked as he had at that moment. His wings, well they were special, weren't they? He abruptly had the urge to puff out his chest, and show off his wings to their full splendor. Harry swallowed and blushed with embarrassment. What now? He wanted to show off his wings to Snape now? Oh Merlin, he had finally gone 'round the bend.

"They feel hot, I suppose. It's not a direct pain though, just tender I guess. Like a fresh healing area." Snape fingered the scar at his own throat when Harry elaborated. Harry wanted to ask how he was doing with his own wounds but any interrogation into the life of Snape would likely be answered with a cold stare and an even colder disposition.

"As for your earlier inquiry, I will not be subjecting you to the Peyote. Although Madame Pompfrey refrained from touching you, I was able to handle you earlier without the either of us exploding into a ball of golden fire, as your magic is want to do. You will still need to be under careful watch, but apparently you have better bearings over your powers than Dumbledore gave you credit."

That was high praise indeed coming from Severus Snape.

Unfortunately, such bearing could only be confined to his rooms. Harry suspected the credit was due to Hogwarts after all. For the moment he tried to cross beyond the threshold of the wards on his door, Harry's knees buckled out from under him and he fell to the ground in agony. Snape was there to pull him back into the room, and almost out of thin air Madame Pompfrey was there chastising the Potions Master about "pushing the boy". They raised their voices to such a degree that Harry's temper flared.

"That's enough!" He yelled. They ignored him, as they both continued to yell at one another, but nothing came out. Apparently, Harry had cast the room in silence.

He blinked at them both owlishly. They looked back at him, both flustered, while Harry tried to gain his equilibrium back. He staggered for a moment while his skin felt like it was trying to slide back into place. Snape caught his arm, which instantly felt as though it caught on fire and turned to sand all at once. The room was slowly sliding back into place and Harry was about three inches to the right of everything. He was sure that was just a side effect of being too close to both Snape and Pompfrey's magical presence again, even if they'd been in the same room not ten minutes ago. Then again, being this close to Severus Snape had never effected him like this before either.

He wondered when the fire along his skin would sizzle out. He looked up into the taller man's eyes and could feel a splinter of glass slither its way down his spine. It was strange, this hot feeling, tightening against his skin. Harry drew in his breath and the bubble around them constricted and gave a shake. Suddenly, it burst and once again the room was filled with the sound of their heated breaths.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean - " His eyes fluttered helplessly against his reddening cheeks.

"Apparently, you'll need to be kept under significant watch if you're casting wandless magic so carelessly."

Snape's eyes were ablaze with some strange emotion Harry had never seen on the man's face before. It culled something inside of Harry that burned just under the surface, buried beneath his skin, slithering along his lips. A dangerous purr began in the back of his throat as he looked upon Snape's face. There was an itch between his shoulder blades, and Harry could feel his wings unfurling behind him, gathering in height. There was a soft gasp off to Harry's left, but he didn't care.

"Oh dear. Severus, I had assumed Mr. Potter was close with Ms. Weasley. I didn't think that he was still - well,"

"Apparently, they weren't as close as you suspected."

"What shall we do then?"

"Absolutely nothing. If we were to interfere now, it would be disastrous. Leave before he considers you a threat to my virtue." Snape gave a snort of laughter.

Fear was rolling off of the woman from his left, and in that moment, it shook Harry's focus. Suddenly, he was stepping away from his Professor and shaking himself free of the confusing gaze that was causing such a strange instinct in himself to arise. Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. His eyes snapped open quickly with recognition. Arousal. Harry could smell it, coming off in roves of the other man. Bloody Hell. Harry's head was swimming with confusion. Snape was aroused by him. He breathed in the weight of it, the scent of it heavy on his tongue.

Snape's eyes searched Harry's face with great intent until he finally let out a clipped, "Leave Poppy. Now."

The Medi-witch nodded dutifully and shuffled out without a word of protest. The only sound she made was the soft click of the door as she made her retreat. Harry's eyes were once drawn to Snape as he continued to surprise him. For his part, he was unbuttoning the fastens at his wrists, and was just about to start at his collar, when Harry's eyes widened.

"Sir, I don't understand." Thank Merlin, he'd finally found his voice.

"In order to control their powers in the past, female veela, have often sought out their mate to encourage a quiet bond. However, veela are renowned for their monogamous nature. Poppy anticipated that you had prior experience with Ms. Weasley and thought you would seek her out. It has become apparent that your instinct would be to seek out your bond mate now."

The tingling had started again. It was traveling much faster up his toes and straight to his groin with every syllable Severus Snape spoke. Harry was a trembling mess by the time he had finished. He thought he understood now. It was all because Harry was a virgin, his instinct was to, what had they used earlier, copulate to save his hide. His mate just happened to be stripping very stoically in front of him. Dear lord, couldn't he work those buttons open any faster.

"I understand the need to assist me when I'm dying, but don't you think this is a bit much?"

Snape's eyebrow arched and a smirk, "You misunderstood. When a veela seeks out its mate, it considers those that are solely interested."

Harry's jaw felt unhinged. Snape stepped forward and placed the tips of his fingers beneath Harry's chin. The shock of being touched once more brought forth another awareness, this man desired him. Had desired him for some time now. Harry had trouble swallowing around the lump in his throat, but was quickly gaining courage as Snape stepped towards Harry and the closer they became caused their hands to collide.

All at once, Harry's doubts flew from his mind. He pulled the taller man against him and kissed him roughly. Their lips met in a flurry of heat and sparks. There was a fever clawing inside of him, trying to get out and rip it's way inside of Snape. He wasn't sure if they would both be able to survive it.

"Finally" He heard Snape mutter against his throat. The hot breath incited another wave of pleasure in Harry, more sensations trounced through him and Harry wondered how could he possibly give Snape the same thrill.

Harry could hear himself pleading with Snape to touch him. Snape dragged his fingers across Harry's chest, causing the younger man to cry out from the simple motion. Harry scrambled to tear off the others robes, nearly ripping them to shreds. He bit and licked and simply drank in the magic that poured off of Snape. He wrapped himself around the man, wings and all. They slid against one another until the magic that built around them let them forget the world outside. The crescendo of it shook the room they were in.
--
Harry wasn't able to leave the confines of his room until well after his birthday, most of that time he had been "bed ridden" or so he had written in his letters back to Ron and Hermione. Technically, he wasn't lying to them but he figured they probably could live without all the sordid details.

He could still feel tingling throughout most of his body, but it became less of a worry after late nights spent with Snape. For his part, Snape continued to give Harry the Aniseed minus the Peyote mixture, and it was a marvelous improvement. It even allowed Snape to walk into the room without Harry immediately pouncing on him. Mostly so, Snape could put the damn mug down, otherwise Harry would be the one to clean it up and get an earful from the Potions Master. Harry figured that wasn't the most romantic of events, so he'd usually wait for his liquorice tasting tea and then almost immediately give Snape a look.

Harry looked side-longed at the parchment on his table and wondered how he was going to explain all of this to Ron and Hermione. Harry was constantly nervous with Snape, but he knew the other man wanted him. He desired him, not for his name, not for the stupid things he'd done, but just for him. All things considered, being a veela, other than the occasional tingling and shattered ceramic ware, things had turned out all right. He'd explain things to Herm and Ron later.

There was a quick rap at his door and Harry's wings twitched at the sound. Harry smiled pleasantly when he spoke, "Enter." Almost immediately after the door opened, the magic that met him put Harry at ease. He breathed in deeply and grinned happily.