Whose Universe Are We In?

25

Three score or more dead on the wrong side as opposed to a mere sixteen on theirs should have made Dan feel better but he hung his head as, three days later, he was released from the infirmary and was helped down to the Great Hall for his first meal since being allowed out, Alan at his side.

Cheers and huzzahs greeted him and he hesitated at the doors. {Why are they cheering, I watched Parvati die, for fuck’s sake. Why are they cheering?}, his ‘send’ sounded so lost and lonely. Alan turned Dan to him in the doorway and held him close. All he could do was love now and hope that time would ease this massive burden of guilt that his young lover carried. He felt as tainted as he knew Dan did, a feeling that ‘it’ would never wash off, as if their very souls were muddied and dirtied but now he had to be strong for the man trembling in his arms, hiding his shamed face in the folds of Alan’s voluminous robes.

The shaking stilled somewhat and Alan led Dan in with an arm around him. The joyful noise stopped when they all saw the stricken looks on the mens’ faces as they walked slowly towards them, Dan limping still from a curse-burn he hadn’t even felt on the day. Minerva stood swiftly and helped Alan guide Dan into a seat then looked into the boy’s face – Merlin he was so young even if he did have three years on their erstwhile saviour, he was still far too young to carry this burden and the weight of it showed in new lines of strain around his eyes and in his pulled-down mouth. He stared blankly at the table top and just sat there, numb.

Food appeared in front of him and he just couldn’t move his hands, they lay, heavy and slack in his lap. {I can’t do this, Alan. I need to go back to our rooms. I can’t move, love. I’m dying, help me}. Concerned as this mental tirade grew louder and higher, Alan saw Dan’s chest heaving, he was having a panic attack, either that or the beginnings of a grand mal seizure, so Alan did the first thing he could think of, he pulled Dan awkwardly into his arms, thought about the rug before the fire in their rooms and was there, still with his Danny in his arms.

Lying him down on the sofa, he immediately fire-called Poppy, who could come through now that the numbers of injured in her sick bay had lessened. She took a look at the pale face, now more peaceful, and ran her wand over him, “Perhaps you should have had a few quiet days here to begin with, see just a few souls at a time. Dan is very depleted and his magic is slow to restore. Tell me, did you need to....erm.....feed off each other during the battle?”, her cough was polite.

Alan raised his head, “Yes”. The woman was a professional, dammit, “Yes, it felt odd to go sneaking off for sex in the middle of a battle, but it did restore us and Dan was unstoppable after the second time. Energy just rolled off him”. At this Poppy smiled, “Then I recommend several days bed rest. If he won’t stay in bed until at least the end of the week, then threaten him with the infirmary. I’m sure you won’t mind being his nurse, will you? And I’ll pop in later today to see how he’s getting on. I’ll give him a calming draught for now and maybe an appetite stimulant, the boy needs to eat, he’s had nought but potions since he was brought to me”.

She levitated the now sleeping Dan on the tip of her wand and with Alan’s assistance, put him to bed, dressed in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Alan bent to take Dan’s glasses off, folding the arms, then bent further and placed a small kiss on unresponsive lips, {Come back to me, my Danny, I miss you}, placed the glasses on the night stand and left the room with the medi-witch.

“You must both rest, Alan. Dan has used more energy than yourself and his magic is stronger but it drains faster, that singe on his leg is healing more slowly than I’d like, too. He is exhausted. I suggest, when he is more up to it, that you both take a very long and restful holiday somewhere quiet and warm, well away from all the adulation that is going on out there”, she made a vague sweeping gesture with one arm, “He doesn’t need all that, Alan, he needs you, rest, peace and quiet, in that order. This will take some considerable time before he is able to do much magic again but with plenty of food love and sex, he’ll be in fine fettle in six months or so”.

“Six months?” Alan huffed out a long breath then smiled, “Actually, that sounds heavenly, disappear for a bit until the hoo-hah dies down. I hope this will be on the Ministry’s ticket”. Poppy laughed, “How very Slytherin of you sir. I think I shall send them a missive advising that very thing. After all, you are heroes now and I am your attending physician. Politically, there are also bound to be one or two who escaped from the throng, after all, only four hundred and twenty were accounted for in the final reckoning, getting you two away for a while will be seen to be expedient”.

Alan couldn’t help but agree with that and the witch patted his knee as she stood and straightened her robe, “I will write that letter, unless you’d rather I didn’t”. Alan smiled up at her, “No. No. Please do. A place to recuperate in sounds just fine, I thank you. I doubt that the atmosphere here will be conducive to restful healing once the children are back at school either”. She nodded at this, her lips thinning with resolve, then turned and Flooed away.

****

Five days. It took five days for Alan to get a spark of life from his Danny. Five days in which he talked to him, sang to him, read to him, bathed him, fed him, helped him to the loo and all round catered to his every need. Five days until the kiss he gave to his lover’s forehead every night landed plumb on his lips instead as Dan tipped his head back. The kiss was small but warm, Dan shuddered and curled up as small as he could get in Alan’s arms and burst into tears, sobbing great noisy sobs, and letting out all the grief bottled up inside him.

And Alan was there all the time, reassuring and strong but not forgetting to let out his own grief at the horrors they’d had to witness that day, the horrors they’d had to perform, the horrors that Dan’s mind refused to free him from until the sheer power of love gradually brought him back to himself and he knew that he was loved despite how disgusting he felt inside.

Then Alan had to veer away frustratedly from his beloved when he suffered an agonising bout of impotence that left him raging and hopeless. Alan had to bring him round and keep reassuring him. Sometimes his own patience wore thin and he would have to take himself off to have angry wanks in the bath or shower, coming back to the bedroom to find Danny in tears, raging at his own unresponsive body.

Ten days and Dan’s magic was starting to return, albeit slowly but he couldn’t feel it yet. He wanted to perform a spell but Poppy stopped him, “Don’t be daft. D’you want to drain off the only bit you’ve got back?” Frustrated, Dan lowered his wand and lay back amongst the pillows. Alan was in the other room whence he always stayed while Dan had his initial examination and talk with the doctor.

“I’m impotent, Poppy. I want him so much but my body’s on strike”, he blurted in a low voice, “That, and sex helps me get my magic levels up fast, and, fuck it, I miss him. I miss his body. I miss making love with him and I want that back. Is there anything I can take? You know, a potion or something?”

Poppy smiled, “Actually, I think it’s the sex you had to have on the day that’s knocked your libido out of whack”. That made Dan sit up and take notice, “What? How?” She furrowed her brow, “Once I learned that you two were bonded, and I mean that in more ways than just your ceremony: I started to research bondees. You have to understand, Dan, that bondees are not your everyday folk”. Dan nodded.

She continued, “You can use sex as a pick-me-up in a dangerous situation like that but apparently to do two such recharges is considered extremely unwise. According to the literature, one or both of you can be permanently deprived of a sex drive”. Dan looked at her, horrified, but she held her hands up, “However, I do not feel this to be the case in this instance. The bond magic this describes is a weaker partner being protected by a stronger. In your case, your magic is altogether stronger than your partner’s, though he loves you so much and ‘fed’ you a lot of his own magic on the battlefield”.

Dan nodded, “I know. He was amazing. We both were, really. We did what we came for; what we were brought here for. I want to run away with him somewhere......somewhere quiet near the sea.....somewhere warm...just me and him. Some good food and plenty of crashing waves to watch along with a good book or two, and I’d say it was about perfect....yeah....just me and him”. In that moment, she knew he was going to be all right and on impulse, leaned over and kissed his forehead, “You have become a great man out there”, she gestured again.

Dan nodded, “No doubt, but as far as I can see, we just did what we were press-ganged into doing. To me it’s no real reason to celebrate. That and the fact that my sex drive has deserted me”. Poppy grinned, “Your drive hasn’t diminished, young Dan, it’s your body that needs more rest and recuperation. I am, as we speak, trying to arrange somewhere for you to convalesce in peace and quiet. Outside Hogwarts walls, the Press are waiting and there’s endless drivel being regurgitated about our two dead friends. Of course the outside world doesn’t know your secret”.

Rolling his eyes, Dan said, “Yet!” She shrugged, “Maybe now is a good time to get away. Have a long rest, get yourself back again, have a bit of fun with your husband”, she finished archly and Dan quirked a half-smile, “Yeah, that’d be nice, but I think I have something to do first”.

At this, Poppy frowned, “What? Only it’d better not involve magic for, at this moment, you have very little”. Dan blew out a breath between pursed lips, “I think we need to send Tom home – back to our world. Alan made him a potion so as not to feel the pain from Voldemort’s summons, only now he’s addicted to it and he hates being in this world”.

Poppy raised her brows, “I thought he and Remus Lupin were, ahem, getting on rather well”. Dan smiled and suddenly looked very young, “Yeah, they did, but Tom’s a bit of a tart. I’m surprised he’s lasted this long with Remus to be honest, and I suspect, that, by now, he’s starting to feel a bit stifled by Lupin’s possessiveness”.

Leaving one eyebrow aloft, Poppy lowered the other, “How very observant of you, Mr Radcliffe”. Dan shrugged, “Behave! I’ve known Tom Felton for years and we’re pretty good mates – we even had a bit of a fling some while back”, Dan thought in a tiny corner of his mind – that was precisely what it had been – a fling, and he’d been idiot enough to almost fall in love.....

“Yeah, I’ve known Tom since we were ten, no, I was ten, he was twelve, he’s two years older than me. He was just starting out as a musician as well as an actor, you know, before we came over? He’s good, too, used to bring his guitar to rehearsals, play for us outside on sunny days: that was the part of him I almost fell for but now I have the man I love and I’d love to see Tom go home again”.

Poppy shook her head, “Surely Draco died that side, did he not?”, she said, gently. Dan smiled, “Aye, he did, just as Harry and Severus did, but the main difference was that Tom’s parents refused to believe that the body was that of their son. They had DNA tests run and there was proof positive that the blond laid out on Dan Radcliffe’s, erm, my, er, grave was not their son. They are still looking for him. The doors aren’t as closed to him as they are to Alan and I, and, when all is said and done, Alan and I would like to make a permanent home amongst other wizards”.

She had to smile at the fondness in his words and tone and patted his hand, “It will be so, young Dan, you and Alan have your lives before you. Love each other as if each day is your last. You are doing well, Daniel, but don’t overdo it. You have a lot of mending to do still. Now, let us let your beloved in. for he is pacing a hole in the carpet in the living room, and let him spoil you a bit”. At this, Dan laughed aloud and schooled his face by the time Poppy let Alan in.

He came racing over to the bed, sitting gingerly on the edge, his face all worry and concern. {How are you, love? Are you getting better?}, he touched Dan’s face and Dan leaned into the touch, kissing the palm of the hand that touched him, {Yes, but it will take time. Will you wait for me to heal?} In a single move, Alan gathered Dan close to him and held him, {For as long as it takes, my love. I will wait forever. I love you, my Danny and I want no other}. She watched from the sidelines as they communicated with each other and recalled reports of their joint spell-casting in the field. These two were the real thing, of that she had no doubt and grinned widely as she bowed out quietly. Neither of the men on the bed heard her whoosh out via the Floo.

****

early-mid August: three weeks before term starts

Whilst holed up in bed, Dan decided to do some researches on his own while Alan had to help Poppy prepare for the new term by brewing potions for the Infirmary. Too tired to undertake the journey to the Astronomy tower, he sent Alan with his batch of batteries and had to do his online researches via dead-slow dongle.

He was looking for a hideaway.

He knew he did not want to be at the school when the new year began. The thought of all those children near his fraught nerves gave him the shivers and he looked fervently for an out-of-season bargain. Then he found it. A tiny crofter’s cottage on a far-flung and tourist-free tip of the isle of Anglesey, off the north Wales coast. It had an old-fashioned fireplace in each of the three rooms. There was a bathroom with a simple wall-heater. The view was incredible all around it and Dan saved the page to show Alan.

When Alan returned to their rooms, it was to find Dan slumped over his laptop, asleep. He knew that he did this on purpose, avoided his beautiful husband when he was awake. He ached for him in a way that was actually causing him pain but it was easier to bear when Dan slept. Easing out the machine from under Dan’s arm and closing it down, Alan made ready for bed, sliding in under the covers and pressing up against his lover, his prick now quiescent after the vigorous wank he’d just had under the shower, anticipating this very move, but he still held Dan like a sexual being and still snuggled up to him, cock against arse, and Dan always wriggled into position. They hadn’t lost it all. Alan would then sleep the sleep of the dead with his arm heavy about Dan’s waist, his hand clutched in Dan’s over his lover’s beating heart.

The next morning upon waking, Dan noticed three things. One, that Alan was making little thrusting motions behind him, the pole of his prick fitting neatly between Dan’s legs, nudging his bollocks. Two, that his boxers were pulled down around his thighs, and he could see his husband’s cock-head appearing regularly as the space between his thighs was fucked, and three, when he peeled back the covers a bit – joy of joys – he was hard. Really hard.

Wriggling back as his balls were roughly pushed forwards and his leaky dick was pressed against his stomach, he peeled Alan’s clamping hand from around his chest, raised it to his lips and licked a broad stripe across it, lowering both of their hands to his very aroused cock and making Alan grasp his length by dint of folding his own hand around that of his lover. Groaning, he pushed up into that enclosing heat.

Waking suddenly, propelled from his erotic dream, Alan realised two things very quickly. One, the hard-on he was stroking was most emphatically not his own, and two, that his beloved was rocking and straining against him, his own cock fucking the gap between his luscious thighs pressed against him. In a sleep-fogged corner of his mind, Alan decided to carry on, the feelings were so good – wanking his lover as he fucked that small tight space – and the world whited out as he felt hot wetness erupt over his hand and with a groan from his very balls he shot all over his lover’s dick and balls, smearing Dan’s juices as he thrust back and forth until he stilled, gasping, holding Dan so close to him and exulting in their closeness, laughing through dry lips that kissed Dan’s shoulders again and again as his mind whispered repeatedly, {I love you, I love you, I love you}.

Dan unclamped his soft cock and rolled over onto his back pulling Alan down to him and kissing him soundly. Biting his lower lip as they emerged, red-faced, Alan murmured, {Welcome back, love of my life}, into Dan’s mind and Dan smiled, wide and sunny, before pulling Alan back down to him and letting their tongues tangle again. Alan remembered Albus’ admonition to contact him as soon as Dan re-emerged from his fugue state, but right now, Alan was enjoying this too much, his Danny warm and pliant and loving in his arms, so he thought ‘bugger the headmaster’ and proceeded to bugger his husband instead, until both of them cried aloud as they came again and collapsed in a heap in the middle of their bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other. They barely managed a kiss as Alan slid out of his lover and they threw their arms around each other and slept.

Sometime later, who knew when, they both woke in each other’s arms, kissed and declared that they were ravenous. They finally let someone else in, Dobby, who served them food to titillate the most delicate of palettes and who delighted when he took empty plates back to the kitchens.

From there, the word spread, ‘the bondees are all right’ and all in the Great Hall listlessly eating their supper brightened at this news although all knew what it meant – the bondees were, ahem, sexual again. Various of the older members of the Order still hanging around passed knowing looks amongst themselves and smiled, where those of the DA were noticeably jubilant that night. Their heroes were mending and that was all that mattered, though few of them suspected the truth behind why they were so slow to mend.

****

It was two days later that they finally appeared in the Great Hall. Breakfast time and all the rest were there, coming to terms with their losses: the funerals had already been held. They ate listlessly until the doors slapped open and a blaze of sunlight silhouetted Alan, holding Dan in his arms.

They progressed into the room and all faces were upon them. Alan lovingly sat Dan in a seat, then sat himself before gathering Dan into his lap. Not a word had been spoken around the Hall, all too awed to speak. Completely ignoring the others, Alan started to feed Dan his breakfast from spoon or fork, and Dan took it all, chewing slowly, swallowing, feeling the weight of the eyes upon him as he lovingly took every morsel from the proffered fork.

Then it was his turn to feed his champion in the public eye and to the astonished gazes of others, he did just that, Alan accepting his offerings joyfully with lust and such love in his eyes. They were hypnotised by all the feelings until Hermione coughed and looked embarrassed as she stood before them and muttered, “Such are the bondees joined. For now and forever, in sickness and in health, for as long as ye both shall live, with love and devotion and food, to signify the feeding of their love. Blessed be”, and there was a chorus all around them, and, amidst hazy kisses, Alan ate and fed his beloved, vaguely aware of the significance and the smiling faces all around him and the shining light sitting in his lap that was the man he had bonded himself to.

Dan in his turn, ate everything offered to him, a sign of the trust he had in the man he was bonded with and fed his beloved with gentleness and tact. At the end of the meal, he slid from Alan’s lap with a soft kiss and sat beside him. Alan returned the kiss and kept his arms around his young lover as if afraid to let him go.

When they finally faced the assembled company, it was to see folk smiling waterily and dabbing at their eyes. All made signs of blessing and benevolence, even the house-elf clearing the table looked on with large tear-filled eyes and was extra-careful around them. Dan wondered if by feeding and being fed, he’d just made a grade ‘A’ twit of himself but one look at all the adoring faces around him made him realise that something of major significance had just happened.

Albus spoke up as the proceedings looked ready to descend into mawkishness, “I thank you, our champions, for your trust in us. Normally the bonding meal is held in private but for some reason you chose to share it with us, your fellow warriors, and we are honoured, extremely honoured, let us all raise a glass and toast our champions and wish them the traditional greetings for love, happiness and long life”, and there were loud cheers all around the table as glasses were held aloft.

On impulse, Alan filled his and Dan’s glasses and they twined arms and drank from each other’s without spilling a drop. The sounds of cheering magnified all around the Hall as glasses clinked and cheers were said and drunk to the two bondees. It was as if they had all waited to celebrate until the two bonded were fit and ready to do so with them – perhaps they had, Alan thought as he surveyed the happy faces around him and held tight to his Danny who then surprised him by kissing him again.

Dan flagged after a mere half-glass of champagne and Alan excused them, citing their recent exhaustion and the continued need for healing as reasons for their early departure but no-one seemed to mind and they were both wished well as they left the Hall, Dan leaning heavily on his lover, still looking pale and washed-out.

****

During the course of the next couple of days, they had small gatherings with various folk, some new friends, Hermione and Ron, with a selection of light-hearted reading for both Alan and Dan, plus a few small favours and gifts from others in the DA. Ron was pleased when ‘Snape’ thanked him and Hermione heartily. He liked this new ‘Snape’, and, if he admitted it, the new ‘Harry’ as well, and he enjoyed a fine game of chess with the older man.

Day two and Dumbledore visited. “Gentlemen, I know it is good for you to hide here, but, you will want to get out and about now it is safe for you to do so, but you might want to have a think about what you’re going to say to the Press. As you may or may not know, we have The Daily Prophet, our main news organ and a really nasty tabloid. We have the Quibbler, belonging to and independently run by Mr Lovegood, the father of your young friend, Daniel; and the organ of the ladies, Witch Weekly. Never underestimate that magazine, tawdry though it be, for the influence it has in wizarding middle-England, and hence the grip on the wizarding nation’s moral outlook”.

Dan hadn’t thought about all this but knew as with filming, at some point, he’d always had to face the Press, give interviews, do appearances on TV shows etc, even though he hated it. He thought this would be more of the same only he was going to have to endlessly revisit the final battle, a thought he didn’t look forward to at all. He and Alan discussed this mind-to-mind keeping their ‘voices’ low to escape detection.

{I vote for an exclusive for the Quibbler, that’ll be the real in-depth, maybe with interviews by the rest of the folk that were there and maybe half an hour on the WWN radio channel then we bugger off and do this recuperating for a bit}. Alan smiled widely at his beloved and agreed totally, leaning over to kiss his forehead before delivering the verdict to Dumbledore who could but nod. It seemed that one of the unforeseen side effects of the warrior’s blood bond was a charm that prevented ‘betrayal’, and, as the Press were generally held in such low esteem anyway, the bond read telling the Press as a form of treacherous behaviour and the bondee would be ‘appropriately affected’, although, as these things were legendarily painful if one went against them, quite simply, nobody tested it, which meant that absolutely no-one who had fought on the side of the Light could snitch on them or make up stories, and for that, they both were glad!!.

Dan shrugged, “If you like, we’ll write a short statement for the Prophet but it has to contain a line that says that the whole story will be available in the Quibbler or we don’t do it. I’ve heard how wrong that paper often gets things and I want this to be right. I also don’t want that Rita Skeeter woman on this. We write the statement for the Prophet. No interviews. Then the main piece for the Quibbler then a final think-piece with ‘q and a’ for the radio, or maybe something random like a phone-in show. Then we’re done. Finito, the end, and we can bugger off and lay low for a bit”.

Dumbledore had to admire their Press savvy and said so. Dan grinned, “This is all stuff I’ve done before. Just have someone watching us so no-one casts invisible curses and have some-one taste all our drinks at the radio studio, keep the crowds from getting too close and we’ll pass. I’ve gained a few lines now that I’ve....erm....seen action....no, fuck it, killed somebody. Keep ‘em far enough away to just see the grin and the glasses and Alan’s hair and scowl and we’ll all be all right and if we do radio then no cameras, see?”

Albus had to chuckle at this, “Very well thought out, boys, it shall be as you wish. I will arrange everything. You two just get strong again”, and with that, he took his leave.

****

In actual fact they ended up having to give a small Press conference at the insistence of the other papers out there. So, three days later, they found themselves seated at the head table confronted by a small sea of journalists. They answered many questions as to the battle and the killing of Voldemort and waved aside several on their private life, most of which centred around, ‘how old was Harry when he and Severus Snape actually formed this relationship’?

Dan answered truthfully, once he was well and truly of age, i.e., seventeen as it was in wizarding circles and that, as a matter of fact, he was about to turn eighteen on the morrow, all accompanied by a certain adolescent gawkiness and blushes aplenty. This seemed to set the lady journalists in a twitter at least and it was all going their way, when a stout middle-aged witch stood up and ‘ahemmed’ until the pack quieted.

“Gentlemen, and I include the venerable headmaster in this, my name is Tabitha Grimshaw of Witch and Wedding and I have come across the most incredible thing. Perhaps this question is more for you, Professor Dumbledore as it has no bearing on the War at all, but tell me...”, she hesitated, “Why it is that this particular bonding certificate has ended up in the Ministry? Purported to be between one Daniel J Radcliffe and an Alan P S Rickman? Who are these gentlemen, only I’d very much like to know?”

Albus frowned down at her over his half-moon spectacles, “And why would that be, pray?” She grinned up at his, all sunny smiles, “Why, because they are recorded as Magus Ipsissimus and Magus Magister respectively. They are Mages and you have effected a Mage bond here in this castle. Do you not think that this is news, Professor?”

This started tongues everywhere in the room wagging. Alan muttered darkly to Dan, {Oh shit}. Dan barely cracked a raised lip, {Oh, come on. Magi? How cool is that?} He could hear Alan’s eyes roll, {Who said we were magi anyway? Only this dotty old bird} Dan chanced a glance at his husband, {Yeah, but this’ll be all over the papers now. We need damage control and to see what we can salvage afterwards}, but Albus Dumbledore was already clearing his throat and the pack hubbub quieted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there surely must be some kind of error here, we have not had true Magi in this land since the founding of this school and I have certainly had no intimations of such a momentous event and Ms Grimshaw?”, he waited until he had her attention, “I suggest that you need to look to a pranking junior minister or an assistant at the Ministry for the culprit. The registration was clearly mis-filed. You know that in order to generate a little extra cash here, we perform hand-fastings, weddings and baby-namings in this venerable Hall, the couple could have been one of many and I fear tracing them could be difficult. Just file under ‘normal’ and no-one need be any the wiser”. Albus did his wise-old-man chuckle and the Press pack tittered nervily.

The questions ended soon afterwards and Albus made sure the Press all got a thumping good tea served by the house-elves. Albus led them into an ante-room off the Great Hall, and Dan slumped in a chair and Alan sank to the floor at his feet, resting an arm on Dan’s knee. Smiling weakly, Dan reached out and threaded his fingers into Alan’s hair. He liked it long. He stroked Alan’s head and felt so weary all of a sudden.

Albus beamed at them and had the house-elves serve them a private tea, “Boys, you were magnificent. And Magi too, I’ll be bound? That will not be a mis-file, I will have to contact Kingsley as soon as the braying mob are gone and have your bond details made more private, shall we say? I don’t think anyone actually guessed that you weren’t who you say you are. I thought that someone might notice, but you were right, Dan, so long as they see the glasses and the scowl, then they feel all right. I always tried to understand Harry’s predicament but I think you just crystallised it for me, but egads! Magi? I am still stunned boys. I have to say it, Harry certainly knew what he was about when he selected you two to exchange with”, he shook his shaggy grey head.

Alan lifted a brow, “All very well but we are registered under our real names so the fact of them being us – i.e., Harry and Severus, should never come to light”. Dan snorted, “Yeah right, unless some little muggle-kid Ministry clerk, who has seen the movies as downloaded versions as we have, so the curse doesn’t work, recognises the names. Fuck, let’s hope we’re in outer Mongolia by then”.

Albus frowned, “Hmm, I see there’s rather more to this deception than meets the eye”. Dan shook his head, “I know, there doesn’t seem to be much of a plan in place for ‘afterwards’”. Albus pondered, “I’ve no doubt that Harry and Severus had a plan. Those two always had a plan”, he mused with a faint smile, “I wasn’t always privy to them....they were pretty independent, the pair of them, but, yes, I always knew they planned on returning, sending you two back to your own world. That’s what they told the Order anyway. They were just going to ‘borrow’ you to do the deed. I suspect all this is in Harry’s journal, which you, Dan, are now the owner of, I believe?”

Dan sighed, “Yeah. I am. I started scanning it but we’ve been so busy lately and now I’m too feeble to get to the other side of the castle and finish it but it’s heavy on the battery power and we haven’t exactly been able to go anywhere of late, and...”, Dumbledore held up a hand and Dan stopped.

Dumbledore said nothing, just stroked his beard absently and gazed off into the middle distance. Eventually, he said softly, “What would you like your plans to be now that Tom Riddle is dead?” Dan shrugged, “No idea. We’re sort of taking at as it comes, but I suppose we need some future plan. We want to stay here, that much we do know. We can’t go back, not now. And I don’t think I could live back in that world again. I mean mum and dad’d totally weird out about Alan, and, hey, I love having magic, though what sort of impact will being this Ipsissimus guy be?”

There was a long silence then Dumbledore’s voice sounded raspy and old, “Boys, between you, you are the strongest wizards in over a thousand years. It isn’t just about your individual levels of magic, as a bonded pair it’s about the combination, the sum total, what you are as a couple. I think that is incredible, but there is more than protecting your privacy behind my wanting to...er...secure your records”.

Dan smiled wryly with only half his mouth, “I know, I know, in case the populace gets it into their head that I’m a new Voldemort. We can’t let this out, even if we were Harry and Severus, we couldn’t let this out, ‘specially as the vigilante squads are out for anyone with raised magic levels. That Witch Wedding woman will probably be digging as we speak”, Dan shuddered. Albus rose, “Time to protect you and bury you, much as it pains me to do so. Wizards with your power are all too rare in this world but the current climate would not permit it – not now that you have killed. Ah, what a sad world we live in”, and with that, he left.

The lovers were left with a lot to think about. Dan sat forward and slumped, his hands between his knees. {I thought we could do this thing, then, in the manner of all good stories, it’d be happy ever after, but it’s not gonna be like that, is it? We’re still a complication with this new status. Shit! I begin to understand why they ran more and more}.

Snagging Dan in his arms, Alan mind-murmured, {Me too, but for good or ill, here we are and this is our life now. We can handle the Press, for example, much more adroitly than we ever read of Harry Potter doing. Don’t panic, we’ll get through this, then we’ll be free and clear to get on with our lives. I have to say, that as Severus Snape, I’m worth a hell of a lot more money than I was as Alan Rickman}.

This made Dan chuckle, {Yeah, Harry is a lot wealthier than me, Dan, despite all the movies and the fame and such. He was left a wad so neither of us will be short of cash. Let’s find a nice little place by the sea somewhere warm and retreat for a bit, get used to this new life, soak up some sun, have lots of delicious sex, swim, get fit, you know, all the good stuff, without having to worry about money, at least}.

Lying on the couch, it took a cough from the fireplace before they noticed the head bobbing there, green in the orange flames. It was Remus. “Is Albus still with you, only I need to see him urgently”. Alan shook his head, “He’s just left. Anything we can do?” Remus sighed out a breath. “It’s Tom. He’s been coming off that potion but he was so down today, doesn’t feel like seeing people then only swallows three days worth of the bloody stuff. He’s overdosed. He’s in the Infirmary with Poppy. That’s where I’m calling from. Tom tried to kill himself”, Remus ended on a sob, then pulled himself together and sniffed, “He needs to go home, chaps. I think he’ll try again if he stays here much longer. I have to go. I have to try and find Albus”, and he disappeared from their fire, leaving them both shocked.

Dan made to stand immediately, “We should go to him....”, but Alan restrained him, “Dan, you aren’t even particularly good friends and here you go, wanting to rush in and save him. You are more like Harry than you realise. No, we would better serve him if we actually applied ourselves to finding him a way home, and that means the rather onerous task of ploughing through all of the material that we have left unread including Harry’s journal”. Dan sighed and agreed.

Alan took in the look of discomfiture on Dan’s face and was swift to reassure the lad, “Look, you don’t have to do the reading, I’ll do that. I know you are not comfortable being expected to read reams but it needs to be in a state that I can read it in, which means that you have to be the one that completes the scan of the material as you are the only one that can prise the covers of the book open. Shall I accompany you across the school to the astronomy tower?”

Dan shook his head, “The wretched book won’t even open if you are in the same room as it except if you are asleep. I shall have to do this on my own, I’m afraid. I’ll go in the morning after breakfast, if that’s all right?” Alan nodded, “That’s fine, Dan. What do you want to do until then?” Dan smirked, {Get all cosy with my beloved husband, I think. Look, I’m sorry for Tom, okay, but I’m tired and still not at my best and I really don’t feel like haring across the castle right now, but I’ll pack the laptop bag up tonight and do this as soon as I wake in the morning, okay?}

They curled up on the sofa, feet tangled together. Dan stared into the fire until he felt his eyelids drooping, he still was awfully tired. From behind his own book, Alan watched as Dan slowly slid down until he was fast asleep, his head resting on the arm of the settee, his breathing slow and even, his cheeks slightly flushed.

Alan smiled as he regarded his beloved in sleep. He loved to watch as dreams made Dan’s face twitch and his lips smack together, then he rolled over so his face was almost pressed into the sofa back and broke Alan’s musing. Quietly, Alan slid from the settee and went into the bedroom, picking up the laptop. He booted the machine in the bedroom in order that the musical theme tune not wake him, then carried it in almost closed, sat down again, opened up the screen again and settled back on the sofa, the machine in his lap.

It didn’t take long before he had the file he sought open before him. Christ! There was reams of the stuff! Most of it was complete drivel, too, all about the crush, the fighting, the training, and the eventual beginning of the relationship between Harry and Snape. He sighed as he ploughed through it, speed-reading, a skill he’d honed over many years as an actor for swiftly scanning screenplays and scripts for future parts.

Gods! No wonder Dan wasn’t keen on reading this tripe! The prose was indeed the vilest shade of purple and in the computer there was no colour-coding of the edges of the pages and the character recognition software had done weird things to some of the words, making it doubly difficult to both read and parse. After only a few pages, Alan could feel a knot of tension between his brows as he tried to make sense of some of the mangled prose and he was tempted to chuck the whole thing on the fire.

After a while, he bookmarked his page and closed the machine down and huffed out a breath as he laid the laptop on the coffee table – he was getting nowhere with this, maybe it was time to burrow into the other mounds of papers that they had found. More than that, Alan wanted Snape’s point of view on the whole affair.

While he had been reading, Dan had stretched out and his feet were now in Alan’s lap. After placing the computer carefully down, he lifted Dan’s feet and stood, stretching out his back, and went into the bedroom to dig around in Luna’s old trunk, selected a tied-together sheaf of parchment not in Harry’s writing and took it back to the sofa, where Dan was now laid fully out, hogging the entire length. Shaking his head with a slight smile, Alan could see that Dan’s sleep was not a nap; in all probability, he was out for the night now, and laid the bundle down.

Drawing his wand, he levitated Dan from the sofa and directed him gently to bed, stripping him magically before tucking him under the covers and pulling the blankets up over Dan’s shoulders. Dan made a pleased noise in his throat and snuggled down in bed, staying resolutely asleep.

Going back into the living room, Alan was going to resume his reading but the room seemed empty without Dan, so, picking up his bundle of parchment, Alan quelled the fire, poured himself a glass of something warming and alcoholic and took it, his parchments and himself off to bed, undressing quickly before sliding in beside his lover who had now warmed the bed quite nicely.

With his final burst of magic for the night, Alan spelled a fire alight in the grate and heard his lover groan beside him. When he glanced over, it was to see Dan moving sluggishly, a look of pain in his sleeping face, and Alan decided not to use any more magic that night, fearing that he might be setting Dan’s healing back as now their magic was joined and Dan’s was still so weak.

Leaning over, he kissed Dan’s cheek and let a few kisses loose on whatever of Dan’s face he could see, to see Dan finally smile in sleep and relax the frown he wore. With a final kiss, Alan sat upright, his knees bent, and attacked the bindings around his parcel of papers. Straightening them out, he sipped at his drink and began to read.

Dan awoke in the middle of the night, surprised to find himself both naked and in bed. There was a dim light in the room and he sat up slowly to see the small fire a mere pile of glowing embers and the candle on Alan’s side of the bed almost burned down. Fumbling for his glasses and donning them, he turned and saw his lover asleep, slid sideways down the headboard, his knees still raised and papers all around him. With a smile, Dan knew Alan was doing research.

Carefully, he gathered up the rustling parchments into a neatish pile and placed them on his bedside table then eased Alan down in the bed until his husband was lying down then leaned over him and kissed him. Alan made a noise in his sleep and his lips puckered for more kisses that Dan obliged him with before he drew away and had a soppy moment watching this love of his life as he slept, then slipped from the bed in his bare feet and trotted silently to the bathroom.

After a pee and a drink of water, Dan was wide awake. Reluctant to use magic still, he dare not cast even a time charm but knew it was deep into the night. Throwing on some clothes, he padded into the living room, holding his shoes and socks in his hand and saw the laptop on the coffee table and grinned, Alan had clearly been busy in his reading.

As quietly as he could, Dan packed up all his electronica into his rucksack, left a note on the coffee table, put on his trainers and exited their rooms. As he was now awake, he may as well do some work himself, and with this thought in mind, he braved a small ‘lumos’ charm, lit the tip of his wand, and set off across the castle, treading the now-familiar route to the astronomy tower.

He knew the route like the back of his hand due to their nightly peregrinations after their arrival and Dan felt perfectly comfortable negotiating the passages and stairs by now, finding his way easily, even being hailed by one or two of the portraits along the way, one even called, “Long time since we’ve seen you, Harry”, that made Dan come up short and turn, holding up his wand.

The small man in the less than foot square portrait, squinted and half-turned, holding a hand before his eyes. Dan apologised and held his wand away, “Um, sorry about that. Yeah, had a Dark Lord to kill and I’ve been a bit drained lately. How are you?”, and for the next few minutes had a conversation with the eminent Sir Henry de Mimsy-Porpington, the very son of Sir Nicholas.

During a pause in the conversation, Dan decided to blurt a question that had been vexing him for months, “Sir Henry, where are the ghosts? I haven’t seen them and...um...your dad... in ....er....ages?”

The sandy-haired man in the lace collar stroked his goatee and peered at the lad, “Not seen ‘em? That’s bally odd, old chap, they’re still about, don’t you know, in the usual places. They’ve seen you. We watched the battle. You were magnificent. The Bloody Baron was so proud of young Severus and Papa was thrilled with your part in it. You and the other Gryffs were splendid, young feller-me-lad, excellent tactics with the bare minimum loss of life. Well done, old bean, jolly well done. Well, as to my dear papa, I can carry a message if you will?” Dan smiled, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll see him around, I expect. Tell him Harry says hello”. With a wave, Dan carried on and didn’t see the shrewd expression on Sir Henry’s rather coarse-featured face.

It struck him as he walked along, keeping the light dim enough not to disturb any portraits that slept, that perhaps they couldn’t actually see the ghosts, another magical attribute that they missed out on. Dan shrugged and moved on, ‘ah, well, can’t have everything’, he thought, then decided to see what he could find on Mages online.

In the corridor above the library, the suits of armour saluted him with much screaming of rusty metal that set Dan’s teeth on edge but he stood and saluted them all then bowed and continued on. He’d forgotten how fun it was to be out this late, then on an impulse, he decided to test out this not-seeing-ghosts idea, and he knew just where to go.

Deviating from his original route, he easily found his way to the second floor girls toilets wherein lay both the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, but at this juncture, more importantly, it was here Harry most often ran into Moaning Myrtle.

The door made one of those wonderful horror movie creaks as Dan pushed it cautiously open, stepped inside and closed it again, leaning on it as his eyes adjusted and he got his bearings, holding his lit wand up and increasing the charm slightly in order to see the room. The set-up was exactly as it had been in the second film. Exactly. Dan held his breath and tiptoed over to the console of sinks, using his light to find ‘that’ basin with ‘those’ taps. And there it was.

Fascinated, Dan took his time examining it but kept his lips tightly sealed, he had no wish to open the Chamber, or even see if he could. He was here for a different reason. Holding his wand higher aloft, he turned to the row of cubicles, “Hey Myrtle”, he called softly. Nothing.

Feet grating on the stone, Dan walked up and down the row of toilets, pushing open the doors, trying to dispel the slight feeling of the creeps that raced up his spine, making a light sweat break on his upper lip. He retreated back to the sinks, resting his bum on one, his wand still casting a strong light. Swallowing, he decided on another call, this time stronger.

“Myrtle. It’s Harry. Harry Potter. I’ve come to see you. You always wanted Harry to come and visit you, well, here I am. I’ve come for a chat. Voldemort’s dead, you know, and....”, he got no further when a tap turning on violently in the next sink from him made him jump and yelp.

“Bloody hell, Myrtle, way to go to scare a guy”. From directly in front of him a toilet flushed and he flinched and whimpered, “Myrtle, is that you? Speak to me”. He felt air rush round him and he pulled away from it, but beyond that he saw and heard nothing. He couldn’t see ghosts. He knew Myrtle was in the room with him, he just knew, but as to seeing and hearing? Nada.

He slumped, somewhat disappointedly and said, “Myrtle, I think something happened in the War. I can’t see you any more. I can’t hear you. If you can hear me, turn the hot tap on in this sink, the one I was leaning on”, he stepped away and turned, looking down, and as he did so, the tap turned on and hot water gushed out.

He tried not to leap back in surprise as a thick mist formed on the mirror and writing appeared in a childish round hand, “Can you read this, Harry?”. He shuddered and said, “Yes”, in a whisper, then he continued, “I can’t see any of the ghosts any more Myrtle, it’s not just you, but I knew where I’d find you, you’re the only one who ever came when I called”.

The mirror was wiped clean, only to fog again. More writing appeared, “You are not Harry Potter. He wouldn’t have cared. You are far nicer than him. I like you. I loved him but it was just a crush, one I have had for years. I hate being a ghost, though I’m glad Tom is finally dead”. Dan had to think a moment before recalling that Myrtle was a contemporary of Tom Riddle’s. He started when the writing started again. “TOM RIDDLE WAS A BASTARD. HE RAPED ME, GOT ME PREGNANT THEN HE KILLED ME”, was written in large, painful, jagged letters, and Dan gasped.

“Rape? Pregnant?”, Dan blurted: this wasn’t in the books but then, he recalled, they were for children. There was a squeaking coming from the flecked glass as she scrubbed the last message then waited for the steam to mist it again, “Yes. It was a son, I just knew it. I never told Harry. I’ve never told anyone. Except you. ‘Cos you’re not Harry. Harry was weak. He cried a lot, then he fell in love with that greasy Snape”. If mirror-writing could have spat, then these words surely could.

Dan shrugged, “I’m married to his substitute”. There was a pause as the glass fogged again, then, “We know. All the ghosts know. You are so much better than they were, such weaklings, no power at all”. Dan felt his hackles rise, “Now see here, they tried, they really did but it wasn’t happening for them. They knew that they had to have a bond to defeat Tom Riddle, he was so powerful, you see, but they didn’t have one, a bond that is, so they sort of chose us, two muggles, to do the job for them”. It actually felt good to spill all this out to this disembodied presence and Dan found himself smiling as he revealed his confusion and anger at the transference and the love he had found as a result, the happiness he now had even if it was tainted by the fact he’d had to kill to achieve this current tranquillity. He ended with, “Okay, and my name’s Dan, short for Daniel”.

There was a long silence. The mirror steamed again and stayed steamed. Dan thought that was all Myrtle was going to say and he was about to turn to go when the words appeared again, small and neat, “We are sorry you cannot see us, but we all like you. You are excellent wizards and very brave. I don’t have a crush on you, Daniel, you are a married man, and I do not go there, but I have watched you.....when you were in the bath one time. It made me come over all pimply and I haven’t done it again. Farewell, Daniel, you are very brave”, and with that, there was an almighty splash from the end toilet and Dan knew Myrtle had gone again. In the remaining steam, he wrote, “Thank you”, turned off the tap and left the bathroom.

He was in a strange mood as he exited and decided against further adventures. With a sigh, he bent his footsteps dungeon-wards – he wanted to be with his beloved again.

He let himself in as silently as possible and lit as few lights as he needed just to get across the room and in moments, he was naked and snuggling up in bed behind Alan, sneaking his arm around him. With a kiss to the knobbles of Alan’s upper spine, he smiled and fell asleep, made strangely happy by the conversation he’d had.