I‘ll Stay

Severus stared out over the dance floor awash in flashing lights, over techno beats and beads of sweat flying in the same rhythm. Jerking bodies, illuminated for no more than a heartbeat at a time by the strobing light, pounding sounds that shook you to the core. He hated every second of it—and yet here he was, leaning against one of the pillars of the old factory building, staring over all those unfamiliar heads straight at Potter. Half an hour ago, Potter had grinned at him, completely drunk, stuck his tongue out at him, and then slipped right back into the mass of sweaty bodies to lose himself in ecstatic dancing.

Every time, the same routine. Severus was slowly beginning to suspect that Potter did it on purpose—that somehow he sensed when they had plans and then spontaneously decided it would be a brilliant idea to annoy Severus by going out, because he knew Severus would end up having to collect him and drag him to their meeting.

His headache throbbed in the same rhythm as the hard beat pounding between his ears. No wonder the crowd in front of him looked like a swarm of electric eels—how was anyone supposed to dance properly to this kind of ‚music‘?

Finally, Potter detached himself from the tangle of bodies. His sleeveless white shirt was plastered to his slim frame with sweat, his hair practically dripping, and he wore a wildly overexcited grin as he came toward Severus and practically bounced into him, slinging his arms around his neck. Severus caught him on reflex and let out a low grunt.

„Is this starting again?“ he growled. Potter pressed his head against Severus’s shoulder and turned it just enough that his lips were far too close to Severus’s ear.

„Hi“, he giggled.

„I already greeted you over an hour ago and asked you to come with me.“

„Mmmh,“ the younger man hummed, draping himself over Severus like a sack of flour. „I’m here now.“

„And drunk.”

„Mhm“, Harry replied with a grin.

„Drugs?“ Severus asked, one eyebrow raised.

„Nope. Just the music.“ Well, at least he wasn’t lying about that—although this so-called music seemed to have a remarkably similar effect.

„Do you have your wand? We need to go.”

„At home.”

Severus groaned.

„Harry, that cannot possibly be your damn idea of a joke“, he snapped. Instead of responding to the reprimand, Harry simply continued to hang off him, entirely useless. Severus rolled his eyes, turned around, and started walking. Harry proved that he was very much awake - he held on well enough that one arm was sufficient to keep from losing him, and he even made sure on his own that his feet only scraped lightly along the floor.

„Jacket?“ Severus asked as they approached the cloakroom.

„Nope.“

„You’re driving me insane.“

It was October, for fuck’s sake, and the man was running around outside half-naked and completely drenched in sweat. Mortally annoyed, Severus bent down to lift him more securely - and more warmly - into his arms before stepping out into the cold night air with him. Just a few steps into a side alley, then he apparated with him straight into the bedroom of Harry’s house, where he fully intended to drop him onto the bed.

At least, that was the plan.

He let go - but Harry kept holding on, dragging him down with him, and so Severus sank to his knees in front of the bed with a sigh.

„Drink this“, he ordered, awkwardly freeing Harry’s hands from around his neck with one hand while producing the now all-too-familiar little bottle with the other and holding it up in front of his face. Harry pulled a truly cu- no, that word did not exist in his vocabulary. Harry pulled a truly dreadful pout. His duckling face. He pushed his lips forward and scrunched his eyebrows together. Combined with his short, wet hair, it made him look like a damn duckling every single time.

„What is that?“ he slurred, even though he knew perfectly well. He just wanted to stall - while still clinging halfway to Severus, because Severus couldn’t quite pry those persistent fingers loose with one hand.

„Sobering potion, as you very well know. Now!“ He uncorked the bottle, since Harry showed absolutely no intention of using his hands for anything other than clinging, and pressed the opening against his lips.

„Nhn“, Harry protested, clamping his mouth stubbornly shut.

„Harry, please. I really don’t feel like arguing with you in this state“, he said firmly.

Harry looked up at him, painfully vulnerable. Why did he put himself through this every single time? He was already tempted to give in again - but it was important. So he merely returned the look, serious and unyielding. In the end, Harry relented and let the bitter potion be poured down his throat, his face contorting visibly as he swallowed it… and then, theatrically, he threw his arms around Severus’s torso, pressing his head against his chest.

Severus sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before shifting onto the bed beside him.

„Twenty minutes. Then I’ll wake you and you’ll get yourself together“, he declared, sliding an arm beneath Harry’s head. Harry immediately curled around him like a blanket. Every single time he got drunk, he became unbearably clingy—like chewing gum stuck to the sole of a shoe. It was maddening. Why he, of all people, had to play Potter’s personal babysitter was truly beyond him. As if he hadn’t made enough sacrifices over the past twenty years.

Twenty minutes later, he lifted a hand and gently brushed through Harry’s slowly drying hair.

„Harry.“

That was enough to wake him. Not enough to make him let go, though.

His head remained on Severus’s chest and he didn’t move at all, forcing Severus to sit up in the end. He knew exactly what would happen—they’d been through this too many times. As soon as Harry was sober again, he would turn distant. Not just from Severus, really - from the entire world. As if laughter and joy were only possible when he had something in his system.

And that was exactly what happened now. Without a word, he disentangled himself, slid out of the bed, and headed for the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he went.

He should have been used to it by now—it happened every two weeks, after all, and the routine never varied. They were both creatures of habit. And yet it overwhelmed him every single time, to the point that he still sat there, staring after him, when Harry returned freshly showered—thereby presenting a full frontal view as well, since Harry never took clothes into the bathroom and therefore emerged wearing nothing but a towel around his hips.

And when Harry moved to the wardrobe, it didn’t get any better, because Severus still had a perfect view of his profile as the towel was carelessly dropped to the floor. How many times had Severus now been a witness to Harry’s choice of underwear?

Today, it was a striking red. Black socks followed, then black jeans.

„What are those bruises?“ Severus asked when he finally found his voice—and when he was certain it sounded as neutral as ever.

Harry looked down at himself, as though he first had to check what Severus meant. Several dark marks stood out across his stomach and ribcage.

„Did you get into a fight?“ Severus asked next. Drunk?

„No“, Harry replied curtly, offering no further explanation. Instead, he pulled a dark blue shirt from the wardrobe and slipped it on. That was Severus’s cue to finally get to his feet, because moments later Harry was already beside him and they headed downstairs together. On the way, Harry picked up his wand, then silently lifted his arm, and Severus took hold of it so they could apparate together.

He probably shouldn’t complain about having to pick Harry up every single time. When they entered the meeting room and everyone present shot Harry dark looks, it became clear to him once again that the others were ultimately always left waiting for Harry, with nothing to do but stare holes into this boring room. And the two hours today were far from the longest they’d ever endured. Today they were lucky, since Kingsley slipped into the room behind them as well. For once, they weren’t the last to arrive.

„Now that we are all present“, Dumbledore immediately took the floor, „let us get straight to the most important matter. Rodolphus and Bellatrix are back in the country. Harry managed to corner them“, he announced to the large gathering of Order members. By now, this should technically have been the Ministry’s responsibility, but of course they once again had other problems.

Everyone stared at Harry. Severus included. He had what?

„Unfortunately, Bellatrix managed to escape before reinforcements arrived.“ A collective, held breath was released all around the room. „However, Rodolphus is already in Azkaban.“

At least that. It was a good step. Lestrange was alone now, without her husband. That didn’t make her any less dangerous, and certainly not more predictable, but at least one no longer had to reckon with two wands.

„Do we know why she’s back?“ Lupin asked immediately, watching Harry with concern. Hah - if he was that worried, he could have picked the boy up himself.

„No“, Dumbledore replied. „Nor do we know how she managed to return to the country at all.“

„By airplane“, Harry said, leaning against the wall beside Severus, looking completely uninterested despite the fact that this was about his success.

„Do you know that for certain?“ Kingsley asked seriously.

„No“, Harry replied, „but perhaps the Aurors could actually do their job for once and find that out.“

Harry rarely spoke during the meetings. When he did, he usually sounded just like this—accusatory, dismissive, disinterested. And, really, he wasn’t wrong. It was no longer his responsibility to deal with these things. Someone else, however, didn’t seem capable of doing so either.

Apparently, he considered his continued presence entirely unnecessary, because he disengaged now and left the room, heading outside onto the balcony. Back into the cold again, sleeves short. Severus sighed silently and followed him, while inside a discussion broke out about how to track down Lestrange.

„Potter“, he said sharply as he approached him.

„I don’t want to talk to you“, Harry replied grimly, staring out into the darkness of the night.

„You will listen to me“, Severus stated and stepped up beside him. „Lestrange is back and you’re walking around without your wand? Getting drunk?“ he asked seriously. Harry didn’t react, not even with a flicker. Severus grabbed his upper arm. „Potter!“

Harry tore himself free and glared up at him.

„Potter“, he mocked. „Funny. An hour ago it was still Harry.“

Severus faltered. That was true. But that was how it always was, wasn’t it? When Harry was drunk, everything worked a little differently. They were Harry and Severus then. Harry clung to him like a damned burr. Severus carried him around. None of that happened when Harry was sober.

„Harry, then. If you like. That doesn’t change what I’m saying.“

Harry rolled his eyes and turned away again.

„As if it would make any difference“, he muttered darkly. This time, Severus grabbed his wrist and pulled him around more forcefully.

„What is this supposed to be? Are we slipping back into the status of the Chosen One, to whom nothing can happen because he’s elevated above the fallibility of ordinary people?“ Severus snarled. Harry blinked up at him with wide eyes, clearly hurt. Oh yes—ten years later, he could still do that. He didn’t need a first-year standing in front of him. „When will you finally understand that the world doesn’t work like that? You are very much mortal!“

„And?“ Harry shot back, lifting his chin. „Maybe it’s finally time.“

The only reason Severus didn’t punch him for those words was his extreme self-control - and he felt he deserved a bloody medal for it. Instead, he shoved him away.

„How selfish can you be?“ he snapped. „If you won’t think about the people your death would hurt, then think about the ones Bellatrix will injure and torture on her rampage“, he reminded him - and that struck home. Harry hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets. „I know it shouldn’t be your responsibility to stop her once and for all, but we both know you’ll try anyway in the end. And in the worst case, only because she finds you first. Take this damn thing seriously!“

Harry clenched his teeth, his upper lip twitching. But instead of yelling at him - or whatever he might have wanted to do - he merely lifted his chin and stormed past Severus. Severus growled and followed him, because of course Harry didn’t just go back inside. Even though Severus dragged him to the meetings every time on Dumbledore’s orders, Harry’s participation was practically nonexistent. No - he charged outside and left the grounds, and if Severus hadn’t grabbed him, he would have apparated away alone. As it was, they both landed in some filthy alley.

„Where are we?“ Severus panted, the involuntary side-by-side Apparition having taken its toll.

„Edinburgh“, Harry replied quietly, casting a wary glance around as he pressed his index finger to his lips. Severus frowned. Sometimes he wondered whether everything of the Dark Lord had truly left Harry. He had this… sense for Death Eaters.

Of course, the Order—and even the Aurors—had tracked down, confronted, and ultimately imprisoned… or killed quite a few of them over the past two years. But the ones no one else ever seemed to find invariably ran straight into Harry. Bellatrix and her husband had been among the last of them. Anyone else still out there was small fry - people who had most likely left England for good. Just like Bellatrix and Rodolphus had at the end of the previous year. They had bypassed the Apparition ban by leaving on a Muggle ship and Apparating once they were outside British territory. Harry had nearly killed himself trying to Apparate after them. After that, his fanaticism had waned somewhat - and his drinking had increased. And Severus truly wasn’t sure it always stopped at alcohol.

And now? Bellatrix was back—and who did she just happen to run into? No. There had to be more to it.

Harry was still scanning their surroundings intently, as though he perceived more than dark house façades, blacked-out windows, and the nocturnal sounds of a foreign city. Then he suddenly set off, and of course Severus stayed at his side. Harry was far too often alone, and no one ever knew what he was really doing. If someone had been with him the last time he’d encountered Bellatrix - yesterday? - they might already have caught her.

And Harry might not have been injured either—because that was undoubtedly where the bruises came from… bruises Severus could only assume were the remnants of far worse injuries.

They reached a heavy iron door that wouldn’t budge at first—but a flick of Harry’s wand later, it swung open soundlessly, admitting them into the dark antechamber of an old factory building. Nothing here resembled the club where Severus had picked Harry up a few hours earlier. Old papers littered the floor, their footsteps muffled by thick layers of dust, and a pungent scent of iron hung in the air.

Harry, too, seemed to scent the air as he surveyed their surroundings intently, even though Severus himself could barely see his hand in front of his face.

„What is it?“ he whispered, almost inaudibly, when Harry’s shoulders tensed.

„I can smell her“, Harry replied, even more quietly. Severus tightened his grip on his wand. Harry made a quick motion with his own and scanned the room again—probably a Revelio. And whatever it showed him made him hurl himself into Severus the very next second, which was fortunate, because the ceiling above them practically exploded, crashing down in massive chunks. They smashed into an old office cabinet, and for a brief moment Severus saw Harry’s face contorted with pain above him—then the man was already back on his feet, while Bellatrix’s manic cackling echoed through the darkness.

Through the shattered ceiling, Severus caught sight of him on the staircase to the next floor just as he himself was struggling back to his feet. Damn it.

He hurried after Harry, clattering along behind him, but Harry had already gained a considerable lead. Severus heard curses hiss and concrete splinter from walls. Bellatrix’s mad laughter rang through the darkness, pursued by Harry’s thunderous footsteps. Severus followed as best he could, feeling utterly useless. So much for being able to help him properly. He stumbled over a piece of machinery on the floor, slammed into a large tank, nearly fell up three steps, and heard the footsteps and shouted spells now clattering far above him across metal grating.

Severus had to jump over rubble more and more often. When he finally reached a platform from which he could overlook the vast hall of the former foundry, he froze mid-step. One level above him, Bellatrix had just ended up with her back against a metal pillar, breathing heavily. She was no longer cackling now—she was snarling at Harry, who was advancing toward her along the narrow beam.

„Imperio!“ she screeched. In horror, Severus watched Harry get hit by the curse. „Jump, baby Potter!“ she cried gleefully.

Severus was already preparing to magically break Harry’s fall, but Harry tore himself free of the curse with an outright scream, his head shaking violently. He raised his wand and disarmed Bellatrix faster than either she or Severus could react. Severus’s breath caught.

Harry radiated overwhelming power—his stance, his magic… and the simple fact that Bellatrix was utterly at his mercy. He could kill her, and for a heartbeat Severus was certain that he would. Perhaps Harry himself believed it for a few moments as well.

But then ropes burst from his wand. After a stunning spell, he caught Bellatrix’s limp body as it simply tipped sideways and guided it onto the platform—right in front of Severus. For a heartbeat, their eyes met… and then Harry disapparated.

Although Bellatrix had been helpless, Severus had immediately called for backup. Kingsley had arrived; they had searched for her wand, and now she was on her way to Azkaban. She would not be facing a trial. The few Dementors who had not yet been driven off would take care of her. Severus wasted no further thought on that. He delivered his report to Dumbledore, then apparated once more to Harry’s house - again straight into the bedroom.

The bathroom door stood open, so in the darkness he could see Harry bent over the toilet. He went to him at once, knelt behind him, and rubbed gently over his narrow back while Harry emptied alcohol and sobering potion alike into the bowl.

Severus said nothing. He stayed there until the retching finally subsided and Harry sagged back against him. With his left hand he drew his cloak around him a little more; with his wand in his right he summoned a glass of water, which floated to Harry so he could rinse his mouth and take a few sips. The flush activated itself by magic, the lid closing slowly and quietly. And now he was there, Harry practically in his lap.

What was going on inside him was not hard to guess. All this time, he had avoided killing anyone. He had not even used a lethal spell against the Dark Lord and therefore, strictly speaking, had not killed him himself. Just now, he had been more than ready to do it—and Severus honestly could not imagine what had stopped him in the end. Perhaps simply the desire not to become like her… although he could never be that, in any case.

„It’s over, Harry“, he murmured gently. „It’s over. You don’t have to fight anymore“, he promised him. When Harry began to sob almost soundlessly, Severus wrapped both himself and his cloak more tightly around him, and Harry used the moment to bury himself halfway against his shoulder.

Ten years it had taken Harry. From his encounter with Quirrell until now. Ten years in which every single day had been more or less a battle. Ten years… and so many losses.

„I should have killed her“, he whispered, sounding utterly desperate.

„No… no, Harry. You did everything right. You avenged them all—in the right way. No one has to live with the thought that you became a murderer because of them… it was right“, he insisted soothingly. „Now it’s over.“

Harry sobbed louder, but now, Severus assumed, mostly from relief, because the pressure and the weight of all those years were finally falling away from him. From Cedric Diggory, the first victim of the second wizarding war, to Ronald Weasley, whom Bellatrix had cornered and killed a year and a half ago, and all those who had died in between… they had all been avenged. That did not bring them back to life, but here Harry’s task for the wizarding community ended.

Now he could finally begin to live his life… one that would hopefully consist of more than alcohol and other substances.

After Harry had calmed down a little, Severus carefully lifted him again and carried him to the bed. He eased him down gently - and since Harry, once again, did not let go of him, he lay down beside him. That had never happened when the young wizard was sober. Then again, perhaps his condition now was comparable? He certainly looked completely exhausted.

„What will you do now?“ he mumbled into Severus’s upper arm, his face buried there.

Severus frowned, but of course it was true. A new phase of life was beginning for the others as well. A self-determined one, in which they could live the lives they actually wanted to live.

„I don’t know… maybe I’ll try being a teacher at Hogwarts“, he replied with a faint smirk. Harry choked on a laugh that turned more into a cough, but he didn’t lift his head.

„I think… you’d be really good at that“, he murmured once his breathing had settled again.

„Oh, really?“

„Mhm… yeah, I think so. But… then you’d have Remus as a colleague“, he added quietly.

„Yes“, Severus sighed. „I’m well aware that in this lifetime I won’t be the Defence professor again.“

„Remus teaches History of Magic… that you don’t know that“, Harry muttered, and Severus could easily picture him rolling his eyes. „But you still can’t teach Defence.“

„Then which idiot have they found for it this time?“

Remus had at least been a reasonably acceptable Defence teacher.

„I don’t know… some strange guy… black hair, scar on his forehead… total idiot.“ Harry turned his head and looked up at him, somewhat hesitantly. Severus raised both eyebrows.

„You will be teaching Defence?“ he asked, genuinely surprised.

„Well… that was the agreement. When it’s over, I’ll take the position“, he explained quietly.

Severus needed a moment to process that information. Not because he doubted Harry could do it - quite the opposite. Everyone knew that during Umbridge’s year he had practically dragged half the school through their exams. He just hadn’t expected Harry to return to Hogwarts.

„Hmph… then I suppose I’ll have to throw out Slughorn after all“, he declared, settling more comfortably into the pillows. Harry smiled just a little, but there was unmistakable satisfaction in it.

„Will you stay?“ Harry asked after they had been silent for a while.

And Merlin—how often had Severus wanted to hear that question? Of course he would never have said yes to a drunk Harry. He closed his eyes for a moment, then finally nodded.

„I’ll stay.“