The Mortal

Kent's hand moved slowly away from his pocket, away from his own wand, and moved up inch by inch until it held the tip of Harry's wand pointing down.He tried lightly, but couldn't pull it out.

"Snape's not going to Azkaban, and he's not going to be arrested. He's staying here, with me," Harry said.

"You two's wands," Kent said, as if from the stomach. "A guard at the door - watch until the case is over."

"I have the right to investigate."

"You..." Kent took a deep breath. "There must be an Auror present. That's the bottom line."

"make a deal."

Harry let go, and his holly wand left him cleanly - and even then, the two Aurors who had experienced a bout of scare weren't much better off. Harry looked over at Snape, who nodded reluctantly, and he muttered a spell (which was another tense moment, although wandless magic probably only exists in books anymore), and another wand flew across the room into his hands.

He looked at the wand in his hand, running his fingers from top to bottom.

"If you do something unnecessary, please consider the consequences." He handed over his wand. "I'm not just famous."

This is the last sentence between them.

"You're crazy," Snape said after the unwelcome guest had left.

"I'm fine." Harry walked to the dining table, the candles in the jack-o'-lantern had been burned to the end, and behind the hollow smiling face was the shadow cast by the overhead lights. "You're crazy, I've never seen anyone offer to be a neighbor to a Dementor. Is it funny?"

He picked up the surviving wine glass on the table - the one that didn't belong to him - and drank the rest of the wine in one gulp.

Snape walked behind him, not commenting on his actions.

"You don't understand what you've done. I was the target, and maybe you were too. But now—" He put his hand on Harry's shoulder, trying to turn the boy who was standing still with his back turned to listen to him. "I can't say there's danger everywhere, but it's by no means good. Do you expect that idiot outside the door who will tremble at the sight of you to protect you then?"

"No. It's you who don't understand." From calm to trembling, Harry swung the hand on his shoulder vigorously the moment he turned around.He grabbed Snape's skirt and pulled it to his eyes, the mask that had been disguised so perfectly in front of outsiders shattered to reveal his true face - red eye sockets, rapid breathing.

"I'm used to losing, Professor. I'm used to the people around me leaving and dying one by one, but you—" He spat out the words. "Only you, I snatched it back from the god of death. And if someone wants to take it away again, I will definitely do whatever it takes-"

He wasn't even sure what he wanted to express.It's the relentless struggle against the cold-blooded bitch called Fate, the shining beacon of a life where you've been dizzy and bruised, and you're here, the fire that burns when skin touches.

But at least, when he slammed forward to erase the last distance between the two of them, the suppressed impulse dominated his whole body, and he kissed desperately hard under Snape's startled eyes-

They fit together seamlessly, confronting and attracting at the same time, maybe there is rejection or not.He gave up his reason and relied on his feelings, he almost tasted blood, his heart was beating like thunder, and his breathing was heavy and eager.With his eyes open, he was entangled in the rising darkness, and he exerted his strength without giving in, until the souls merged, and the world went away.

At this moment, he felt complete.

TBC

【six】

Harry was woken up by the knock on the door.

The regular biological clock made him used to getting up early, after a period of days where the morning and afternoon were the sleep boundaries.At that time, Dr. Green's suggestion was to start with a clear work and rest time, so as to gradually find control over the out-of-control situation from a small point.He didn't see how it would work, but it turned out she was right—it just wasn't something he liked for someone who was used to taking risks and planning less.At least on Snape's first morning here, the sense of accomplishment in putting together a messy life was no more pleasurable than the look on the former professor's face at breakfast.

But like now, the clock on the wall has passed the number eight, bright light shines through the curtains, and the sound of vehicles rolling over the road comes one after another-

He opened his eyes like a fish on the shore, and kept replaying belated memory fragments in his head. The only thing about last night seemed to be the temperature of Snape's lips—he leaned on the other's shoulder to calm his breath in the dizziness, and he didn't have time to think about it. There was no deep-seated reason why I was cut into pieces immediately. When I was in a trance, I felt that the unprecedented beating frequency of my heart was really bad, and my past emotional experience suddenly became pale and weak.

Snape's first words to him were better than fuck off: You're really out of your mind, Potter.

Maybe, said Harry, looking at the table, would you like a late-night snack?

The slamming of the door was replaced by unclear dialogue.He stared at the ceiling above his head for a long time, and when he came back, he remembered that the bedroom door was unlocked, and the next moment his heroic girl had rushed in-as normal and natural as her visit to the boys' dormitory.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about something this big happened," Hermione shouted at him, a bucket of newspaper in her hand.

Harry lifted the quilt up.

"Thanks for waking me up, sweetheart."

"Get up, immediately." She stared straight at him, "There's nothing to stop, it's not like I haven't seen you half naked."

That's because Ron and I always like to sleep until the last moment, and you, who are omnipotent, will use such terrible tricks as lifting the quilt and cooperating with clear springs. Harry rolled his eyes mentally, then obediently threw up his hands in surrender.

"Please." He glanced cautiously out the door.

"Ten minutes," she said. "Then you have to tell me the matter plainly."

Harry had nothing to do with her hegemony, and Ron had complained that tolerance (please don't talk to her so nicely, bro, I'm the wretch by comparison) made it ten percent harder for him to get along with his girlfriend.But what can you do to the person who could stay out of things but fight to the end with you, care about you at any time and will not give up on you, the most beautiful girl around him deserves better treatment.

He rubbed his eyes and crawled out of bed, randomly pulled out a piece of clothing from the closet and put it on his bare upper body. Hermione glanced back before leaving the room. The wound on his back hadn't healed yet, and there was an ominous purple-black color in the position below the left shoulder blade.

It's overdue.

Ten minutes later, with his toast in his mouth, Harry figured out why the girl was nervous.He read the crumpled newspaper while chewing food - you can see how dissatisfied the previous reader was - which vaguely analyzed recent events, especially emphasizing that the former double agent is living in Muggle society, and pointed out that the savior The inclination in position, the insinuations between words are very good, and he almost believes that he still has Voldemort's remnant soul film in his head, which is affecting his words and deeds.

"I think all of you staring at me at the same time is scarier than those bullshit reports." Harry walked into the living room with a glass of milk, newspaper tucked under his arm. Neither Snape nor Hermione were clearly at ease, and he, the most obvious common thread between them, just happened to come under the gun - it was like getting into trouble and getting caught by teachers and parents at the same time. "How did you get in here?" He glanced at the expressionless Snape before turning to Hermione.

"Come in," she said firmly. "You are not prisoners, and I am not here to visit the prison, and the one outside the door is not a dementor."

Harry choked on her choking.

"We've got a lot to talk about," she said solemnly. "You weren't alone in what happened to you last night, Harry. A lot of purebloods were attacked, most of them from altered Muggle items. I don't think it was pure blood." coincidence."

The teasing smile on Harry's face disappeared, and he met Snape's equally serious gaze, putting some personal issues aside for the time being.

"Where's the Malfoy's?" he asked.

"They're fine." She shook her head lightly, then pointed to the Daily Prophet. "I wonder now how much truth there is in this, don't tell me you're the one who did it to the Aurors."

There is still a fundamental difference between real hands and deliberate bluffing, Harry thought, and then he told his friend the version that actually happened without any burden, but the first one to speak was actually Snape who hadn't given him a syllable today.

"Corim Town." He mentioned this important turning point. "If this is something that can get you into trouble, I need to know what it is that could threaten the Savior's reputation so that someone would link you as a suspect."

And Hermione's response to this was quick and direct - before Harry tried to get away with it - and she jumped to her feet, her brown eyes blazing startlingly.

"You didn't tell him." She almost growled, at the boy who was trying to melt back into the couch, "and your back injury - you didn't care about it at all, did you?"

Snape, who had asked the question, was slightly surprised by the girl's sudden outburst of anger.

Harry didn't speak for a while