Part Eight

Oddvar Brekke stood in the doorway of his son's bedroom and looked at the man sitting silently in a chair, staring at the wall in front of him.

He'd come when Freya's and Eirik's letters to him had both mentioned that Severus had not spoken to either of them since he had been allowed to awaken, three days ago. That he ate only if they sent Alexander in with his food and then not enough to keep a mouse alive.

Freya and Eirik had both tried getting through to Severus, to no avail. He ignored them, ignored whatever they said to him. He heard only Alexander.

There were times, Oddvar thought, that situations called for kid gloves. Others, when boxing ones were more appropriate. He closed the door hard behind him. "So. Because we won't let you run away with your tail between your legs, this is how you've decided to punish us."

Severus actually moved. He slowly turned his head enough to see who was speaking to him. "I would think," his voice was rough, "that you would prefer to have me the furthest away as possible from your son and your grandson, no matter where my tail is."

Oddvar went over to sit on the bed facing Severus in his chair. "Your son, Severus. Your partner. Your family."

Severus shook his head. He returned his stare to the wall.

"Severus, you've got to let go. You can't continue punishing yourself for something you did as a child. If you were the only one to be suffering, that would be one thing, but now you're punishing your son, my son, people who care for you. Like Freya. Even Luc and Harry."

Severus refused to face him. "I was not a child!" he spat through gritted teeth.

Oddvar sighed loudly, exaggerating his exasperation. "Severus! You were seventeen years old! Seventeen when you were drawn to Voldemort. Damn it! Think of your own students! They may think seventeen is grown up, but how many of them do you know who can make an informed decision? Emotion plays such an enormous part in everything at that age. You know that!"

"It doesn't matter. People died because of what I did, seventeen or not."

"Yes, they did. And Moastifer died because of Alexander. Who is all of fourteen. Tell me, Severus, do you expect him to carry the guilt all of his life?"

Severus turned sharply, eyes livid and teeth bared. Finally! thought Oddvar.

"That is not the same thing. He had no choice in the matter. I did."

"Yes," agreed Oddvar, "yes, you did. And when you finally did make an informed decision, it was based on more than emotion. It was based on fact. And the decision you then took was the proper one. The right one. You were no longer seventeen but twenty. Older and wiser. Less emotional. You turned your back on Voldemort and you returned, not to proffer excuses for what you'd done, but ready to accept whatever punishment was meted out. Just because it wasn't Azkaban doesn't mean it wasn't punishment, Severus."

He leaned over and took Severus's cold hands in his. "The guilty cannot choose their punishment, Severus."

Severus shook his head.

Oddvar leaned closer. "Severus. What happened, happened. Nothing you can do will ever change that. We know..."

"NO! You don't know."

Oddvar straightened. "You think not?" He allowed his voice to grow severe. "Finnbogi is very thorough. He knows what you did. I know what you did. I know about the potions, their testing, their detailed effects on both Muggles and wizards."

Severus winced.

Oddvar continued, relentless. "Eirik has read these files and he knows. Freya read them after I did so she's known since you assumed responsibility for Alexander. From what they've told us, Moastifer made certain that both Alexander and Rhodri know what the files contain. In detail."

Severus eyes had grown more haunted with each name. Now he closed them as a shudder ran through him. Oddvar wanted to offer comfort but he wasn't done yet.

"Evan Ddu knows, not from reading files but from being present at your trial. Harry knows. According to Luc, Sirius Black told him in an attempt to get Harry to break off ties with you. So Luc knows and still she came. And why did she come, Severus? Why is it that Harry put his career on the line to be seen with you? Even before that, to come to your aid? Why did Evan and Rhiannon Ddu trust you with their precious grandson? Why did Eirik and Freya and Finnbogi prevent you from leaving? Why did the thought of your leaving him nearly break your son's heart while nothing Moastifer said or did to him had that affect on him?"

Severus shook his head as though denying all that.

"Why am I here, Severus?"

His hands clenched into fists, Severus screamed, "I DON'T KNOW!"

"Oh, Severus," Oddvar shook his head, "it's really quite easy. In spite of everything we know, we still care for you. We love you, Severus. Because all of us, including Alexander, understand. And knowing the man that you are, we found it easy to forgive." Severus looked almost terrified at the word. "Yes, Severus, we've all forgiven that boy. Why can't you?"

Severus shattered.

Eyes closed, shaking, his mouth opened and a sound of extreme pain came out of it.

Oddvar quickly rose and took the man into his arms. The noises Severus made were difficult to hear. Anguish, pain long denied, keening forth, finally unchecked.

Oddvar rocked the man side to side, holding on tightly as Severus sobbed into his shoulder. "Child, child. It's all right. Everything will be all right."

As Severus purged himself, Oddvar held him, crooning soft words of comfort he had offered his children when upset.

It took long minutes before Severus's sobs lessened in tone and gradually were replaced by hiccups. Oddvar reached into a pocket and found his handkerchief. He pulled back just enough to hold it against Severus's nose. "Blow," he said, as he had sometimes said to his children. "Again."

As Severus rested his head against Oddvar's chest, Oddvar tilted it up to examine his face. His eyes were red and swollen from weeping, his nose red and still dripping - he passed his handkerchief once more over the end - and then used a clean end to wipe the traces of tears off Severus's face.

Never pretty at best, a face only a mother could love, thought Oddvar. But she hadn't. No one had bothered to love the ugly child. Their loss, he concluded as he found a dry spot on his handkerchief.

"Blow again, child."

And Severus did. Oddvar put his handkerchief back into his pocket. He looked to see if he had missed anything. A final tear was slowly making its way from the outside of an eye, beginning a trail downward. He wiped it away with his thumb.

Holding Severus against him with one hand as the other stroked the hair off his face, Oddvar waited until the hitching breath smoothed out before confiding, "I think you should know that I wasn't pleased when Inga left Alexander in your care. Not because of your past, but because you had no experience of parenting. Never mind the reason why, that's not important. But you know, she was right about you. Inga insisted that you would make a very good parent if given a chance. And you have, Severus. You have become the best father I could ever have wished for my grandson. And, you know," he dropped a kiss on the dark head, "once you decide to put Eirik out of his misery, you will make me a very good son."

Severus's voice was raw, tired. "How can you say that?"

Oddvar patted a slumped shoulder. "Because it's true."

Severus shook his head slightly. "And what will your other children have to say about it?"

Oddvar smiled. "Not much. And too much. But it will be all right, Severus. You see, you'll be the only Potions Master in the family."

He frowned, obviously not understanding and too emotionally exhausted to try. "And?"

"And you'll find that you're soon going to have to deal with requests for potions of all kinds, not just Wolfsbane. But you'll have to learn to barter, lad."

Severus tilted his head back enough so that Oddvar could see that a kind of tired curiosity was replacing the blankness in his eyes. "Barter?"

Oddvar nodded. "Like Eirik does. He exchanges paintings - mainly portraits - for whatever he needs or wants from his siblings. He did Magrit's twins for a winter's stay at her house in Crete. No, that was two winters, one for each twin. He did Gustav's father-in-law in return for the architectural drawings for his house and studio."

"Eirik has a house?"

Oddvar nodded. "And studio. On the tip of a small peninsula near Harkmark. Great light. Very nice in the summer time. Less so in the winter when the winds blow off the Skagerrak. Which is when he heads for warmer climates."

Severus was silent for a while. Oddvar said nothing, wondering where his thoughts were taking him. "And what will you have me barter with you?"

Oddvar nodded. "Once, you asked me something like that. Do you remember? You wanted to know what my support was going to cost you."

Severus pulled away. He sat back on the edge of his chair. He sighed tiredly. "Yes, I remember."

Oddvar sat down on the bed. He knew Severus was bracing himself for the worst. It would take time for him to stop doing that. "Do you remember, about three years back, when there was a bit of a brouhaha between the Goblins of Mongolia and of Northern China?"

Not what Severus was expecting. Oddvar resisted the urge to smile as his face scrunched up, trying to jump from what had just happened to goblins in the Far Orient. "No, I don't seem to remember that."

"Probably considered too minor or too foreign for the Daily Prophet to report. It was at a Friendship Banquet. The Mongolians swore someone had slipped some potion into their fermented yak's milk. They blamed the Northern Chinese who swore that, even if there had been a potion, it would have to be one that was far more sophisticated than anything they could produce with the ingredients found in their region."

Oddvar shook his head at the memories. "Nearly started another war. It took me five days of mediation to get them to lay down their arms. If I'd had you at my disposition, it would have a lot easier. I would have called you in and you could have discovered what the hell - if anything - had been added to their fermented yak's milk, and I would have had to drink a lot less of the damn stuff. Or at least have someone with me to share that delightful experience."

Severus scoffed as he shook his head slowly. "I'm no diplomat, Oddvar."

Oddvar smiled. "You don't have to be. You're The Expert. Just so long as you remember to insult both sides equally, there won't be any problems. In turn, Severus, you'll get to play with all sorts of new ingredients and potions. And I think you'll like that kind of barter."

He stood up. "Severus, like Eirik, I'm willing to wait for your decision to join us. But do try to hurry the process up a little, won't you?" He took the sting away with a kiss to Severus's forehead.

When he closed the door behind him, Oddvar found a discouraged-looking Eirik sitting on the top step of the stairs. "I couldn't get through to him."

Oddvar shrugged. "Sometimes a child is in need of a parent, Eirik. Even in a good relationship, there are times that a partner must make parental decisions for the other, in spite of the other." He held out his arms and hugged his son. "Severus is tired. Go be a parent, my son."

Alexander was sitting scrunched up in his father's chair when Bestefar joined them in the library.

Freya was sitting on the arm, her hands on his shoulders, offering comfort. They'd heard the sounds of crying from upstairs and Alexander was terrified that his grandfather was coming to tell him that his father was seriously ill.

Instead, he smiled at him. "It's going to be all right, Alexander. Your father may need a few weeks to recover from all this, but he'll be all right."

He opened up his arms and Alexander went into them, feeling the comfortable strength and security.

"You need to understand, Alexander, that waiting is far more stressful on a person than the living of an adventure. You knew where you were and that you and Rhodri were well, but we didn't."

Alexander looked up from where he'd buried his face in his grandfather's shoulder. "But you're not acting as papa is."

Oddvar shook his head. "No, that's true." He sat Alexander back in the chair and then himself on the arm of the couch. "Alexander..."

Alexander was taken aback: Bestefar seemed to be looking for words. That never happened: his grandfather had words for all occasions!

"Alexander, do you know that you are the very first person in your father's life to love him?"

Alexander was stunned. "The first?"

Bestefar nodded sadly.

Alexander thought a moment. "Is that because he's an orphan?"

Freya's hands tightened on his shoulders. He looked up at her. "What?"

Bestefar and Freya shared one of those looks that Alexander knew meant they were making a decision about something.

Bestefar leaned over and took Alexander's hands in his. "Alexander, your father's parents are very much alive. Both of them. They... They just never cared enough. They never wanted to have anything to do with him."

Alexander couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But... Not want... I don't understand. There's nothing wrong with papa. Why..."

Bestefar gripped his hands a little more tightly. "No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with your papa. The problem lies with them. They have no love in them. And they surround themselves with people who have no ability to love. And though this is not a nice thing to say, the best thing that happened to your papa - before you - was his finally getting to be old enough to go to Hogwarts and away from them.

"But because of the way he's been brought up, he doesn't think he deserves to be loved. You taught him differently. And he loves you so very much that he thought leaving you..."

"That he thought by leaving me he would keep me safe." Alexander nodded. Well, that made more sense. "I thought maybe the Crucio..."

Freya smiled at him. "That probably also had something to do with it, but not because he suffered it. Because he saw you undergo it for the second time. The pain of your child is your pain, Alexander. And your father knows all too well what Crucio feels like. And he was horrified that you had to endure it, even in wolf form."

"And," continued Bestefar, "your papa is tired. He's had to make a lot of changes in his life in recent months and change is not all that easy for him. He's gone from having only himself to think of to having all of us in his life. He's used to dealing only with his thoughts and feelings, and now he has all these people who care for him and he doesn't yet understand that love has no limits."

He patted Alexander on the knee. "But he's learning. He's learning that none of us intend to go away and leave him alone again. That we like him. That's he's a good man."

Alexander felt his feathers ruffling. "Of course he's a good man. He's more than just a good man. Rhodri called him a hero!"

Bestefar smiled. "Yes, he is. But he doesn't see it that way. We'll have to teach him to see life a little differently."

Ketil and Orm suddenly appeared: Ketil was wearing his angry face while Orm was beaming. "Master Eirik says to say to Master Alexander to pack. We is going home to Light's Delight!"

Alexander saw another of those looks between Bestefar and Freya.

"Ketil?" asked Freya.

"Sir is making a mess, Mistress!" Ketil wrung his hands, truly distressed. "He is not folding and he is not rolling. He is just tossing all into Master's trunk. And he is not listening when Master is saying no!"

Orm couldn't stop the grin, even though he too now looked slightly shocked. "All true, Mistress. Master never packs. It is embarrassing." Then he offered. "But I is to help Master Alexander pack. Master says to bring everything, even books for Hogwarts."

Alexander looked from the house elves to the adults. "I've never been to Light's Delight."

"Well," grinned his grandfather, "you're in for a treat. Better go pack. When Eirik's on a tear, nothing gets in his way."

Freya stood up. "Orm, I'll help Alexander. You should pack Eirik's things, you best know how to do that. Ketil..."

"Ketil," interrupted Bestefar, "go pack your Mistress's things for a long visit."

Before Freya could say anything, Bestefar added. "You need to see what you're getting into, before you can make an informed decision, my dear Freya of the Bright Eyes."

Alexander had another surprise in this day of surprises: he saw Freya blush!

Light's Delight was stone and glass and wood.

The house had been built in the alcove of rising cliff so that it was protected from the winds that blew off the Skagerrak. Off to a side was a small barnlike outbuilding most of whose roof and two walls were mainly glass so that light always filled it. Eirik's studio.

Freya and Oddvar had come with them so that Alexander had someone with whom to apparate, as Eirik had taken Severus with him.

When Eirik had ordered him to sit on his arse and behave himself, the bloody man had silently obeyed. Eirik had been torn between feeling relieved something was finally happening and worried about Severus allowing him to take control of his life without even a minimal amount of protest.

Once they had arrived, Oddvar took hold of Freya's hand and, with a rather wicked grin, had gone off with her.

Eirik suddenly found that he could laugh after all. Alexander looked at him and then, eyes wide open as he understood what was going on, snickered. Severus, poor man, only looked from one of them to the other, not getting the joke.

Eirik was proud of his home. He had had many arguments with Gustav's father-in-law as to what he wanted. Sigwulf Nansen kept telling him he was crazy, but had finally seen the house as a challenge and Eirik had gotten what he'd wanted.

The house was large, three storeys, far larger than one person needed. But Eirik liked space and needed it to work. Just because he had a studio didn't mean he didn't work in the house.

It was solidly based in stone, the whole first storey, with the rest of it either wood or glass. In fact, the entire south side was glassed so that light was part of the structure. The rooms were large, open not only inside, but also to the outside. The first floor opened onto the ground level, but the second was decked so that the windows which slid open allowed the rooms to seem even larger. The entire top floor was open attic with skylights, which had been set up for guests, and which Eirik now offered to Alexander.

The boy walked around the space, eyes planning.

"I thought," said Eirik, "that if you decide to have guests, there's more than enough room here to house several of you. The north window opens onto the top of the back cliff, which makes it ideal for flying out." He pointed to his old broom that stood in a corner. "The south is a little too close to seaside. There the winds are tricky. They depend too much on how the sea's acting. Until you get to know them well, and can read the sea properly, I'd like you to fly out of the north window."

Alexander's eyes gleamed at him. Eirik knew that he'd unintentionally offered the boy a challenge. He groaned pitifully. "Please, Alexander, give me time to get used to this parenting stuff."

Alexander sighed dramatically. "All right. But you have to promise to teach me to read the sea and winds."

Eirik's bedroom took up a good half of the second storey. He'd left Severus there with Orm who was happily unpacking their things. He slouched in the doorway watching Severus looking out of the glassed wall, onto the sea and sky. Orm kept an eye on him as he separated the closet into two halves, hanging up Severus's suits, robes and Muggle clothing.

Severus finally turned around to stare at the large bed that was the centre piece of the room. It was a massive yet sleek four poster made of light wood, carved with wolves of all kinds. A bed carved to order by one of his brothers-in-law, who had bartered it for a painting of his champion hippogriff stud.

"I had just gotten the bed when we met. No one has ever slept in it other than me."

Severus turned to face him. "Eirik..."

Eirik moved away from the doorway. Orm, he noticed, had left them.

"Severus. I love you very much. And though you may not think so, I do understand. Maybe not to the depth that you endured, but Alexander's being taken hurt me. He's more than my nephew. He's your child and that makes him doubly precious."

He stopped in front of Severus, raised a hand to brush a lock of hair off his exhausted lover's face. "And I think I understand some of what you feel about what you did all those years ago. I wish I had known you then, but we can't go back. Neither one of us. We can only move forward. I want to move forward with you, Severus."

Eirik cocked his head, wondering just how much Severus wanted to join him.

"I think father is right. That for the next little while, you need someone to make the everyday decisions for you while you take the time to figure out what it is you want."

Severus looked as though he was going to protest, but he said nothing. Eirik took him by the hand. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the house and the studio. I think I should point out just what an honour that is. Luc's been the only other invited guest in it once I set it up."

They were outside, on the path leading to the studio when they heard a whoop over their heads. Eirik looked up and saw that Alexander was holding to his end of the bargain: he had flown out of the north window. Eirik grinned at the boy's loops and barreling. One of the reasons he'd picked this part of the country to build in was the fact that its rockiness didn't appeal to Muggles. Another was the view. Watching Alexander as he turned to face the sea, listening to his awed "Wow!", he knew that he wasn't the only one to appreciate that factor of his home.

By evening, Severus was asleep on the long couch that faced the fireplace in the living room. Eirik had just let him be since they'd toured the studio, but he was being watched.

Orm had called in a couple of his brothers to help with the enlarged household and Eirik had assigned Vigfus to Severus.

Vigfus was a bit of an embarrassment to Orm's family. Serious, a reader, self-educated in matters that most house elves considered to be none of their business. A very quiet elf who considered before he spoke. Who had arrived morose but then actually perked up when Eirik had explained that Severus was a Potions Master.

"Master-to-be is not a politician?"

Eirik had hidden his grin. "No, he's not. Not a lawyer, not a diplomat. And he has a huge library which Ketil is going to send over as soon as he can."

"Master has a library!"

Eirik had been certain he'd seen tears in Vigfus's eyes. "I think most of them will fit into the library Nansen insisted I needed to balance the house." The room was large, far larger than he had needed. His own books barely filled one wall.

Then Eirik hadn't resisted adding, "And we're going to need to build a laboratory for him. Gustav's father-in-law wants his wife painted. We'll get him to design the best lab ever. I'm certain that Severus will need someone to help him at times..."

He hadn't gotten any further. Vigfus had thrown himself onto Eirik, sobbing his heart out. "Oh, Sir! Orm has told us of your kindness, but to do this for Vigfus..."

So Vigfus was silently keeping a reverential eye on his new Master. Eirik assumed that Orm had kept his family appraised of the goings-on at Hillswick and felt that he needn't had to explain why it was important to keep an eye on Severus.

He only hoped Severus would take to the house elf as Vigfus had taken to him.

And while Severus was sleeping, Eirik asked Alexander to join him outside. There were things, he said, they needed to discuss.

That first morning, after he'd spent the night in Eirik's bed, his lover's arms around him, Severus awoke to find a very pensive house elf watching him.

"Ah, Master is awake. Master's shower is ready."

For some reason, he couldn't find the energy to protest so he got up and took a shower under the intense gaze of this elf who had introduced himself as Vigfus. Who had his clothes laid out for him when he came out of the shower. It had been easier to don them then to indicate that he wasn't really interested in getting dressed.

The elf slid the windows open for him and he went out, following the elf to the table set up on the deck, in the shadowed side.

"Papa, you're up!"

Alexander's enthusiastic hug suddenly made him aware of what he had been pushing away.

Eirik smiled at him and nodded to the house elf. "I see that Vigfus has introduced himself. Ketil decided to remain at the house in Hillswick."

And that was all the explanation he got.

The elf was always near-by, showing up with small trays of food, watching him with disappointed eyes when he refused or when he only ate a little. Finally he made an effort because he found he didn't want to see that same expression appear in Eirik's or Alexander's eyes when he only pretended to eat.

And he slept. Without any potion or spell. He slept in the chair out on the deck, on the couch in the living room. The third day, he even slept on the grass when Eirik and Alexander asked him...

No, now that he thought about it, they hadn't asked, they'd merely told him that he was accompanying them to the cove where the water actually warmed enough for swimming. He had refused to join them but Alexander's scream of "This is warm?" had given him a sense of vindication in his decision. Especially as bathing suits of any kind had turned out to be optional.

He woke to find that Vigfus had set up an umbrella-thing over him so that the sun wouldn't burn him. And he'd been there with another of those trays of food. This time he found he was actually hungry and ate everything offered, to Vigfus's great delight.

That evening, he found himself walking around the house, truly seeing it.

He didn't think he imagined the relieved looks shared between his lover and his son.

They gave him two more days before they hit him with the next change in his life.

He was sitting on the hillside, watching Eirik come out of the studio. The day was hot and all Eirik wore was a pair of jeans cut off mid-thigh. There were splatters of paint on his body which meant he was painting again. Luc, thought Severus, would be happy.

Severus had to admit that Eirik looked as though he wasn't feeling the heat. Maybe wearing his suit and robe was a bit extreme in this temperature, he moped. Well, he had only himself to blame for the sweat running down his ribs: Vigfus had offered him the choice of his regular garb or the loose shirt and short jeans that Alexander and Eirik were wearing. Maybe tomorrow, he would try the looser, cooler selection. It wasn't as though he needed to project an image here. They all knew him for what he was: a crazy old coot!

He preferred to think of himself that way than as a sorry son of a bitch who was wallowing in self pity and making everyone around him miserable with his behaviour.

All right, he had needed to think a lot about what Oddvar had said. About how he'd hurt the others. That had taken a leap of faith on his part. That they really did care enough about him. To keep him around. To consider him a friend.

To have forgiven him for something he couldn't forgive himself.

Did he really want to live without Alexander in his life? Watching him go through life from afar? Never again being a part of his life?

And what about Eirik? Who was patiently putting up with his moodiness and moroseness. Who was willing to share that bed of his with a lover who barely managed a morning erection.

Severus leaned forward, hugging his knees to his chest.

Did he want to go back to that so-called life he'd led before either of them had appeared in his life?

Alone. In his dungeon.

Without them.

Without Freya and Oddvar. Without the friendship of Harry and Luc and the Ddus.

Oddvar had told him that a prisoner couldn't choose his punishment. That Azkaban wasn't the only punishment.

If he allowed himself to think Oddvar was right...

The trial judge had assigned him to Dumbledore until he was no longer of any use. Until the battle against the Dark Forces of Voldemort had been won.

He propped his chin on his knees. Well, Voldemort had been defeated. And he, Severus Snape, was no longer of any use to Dumbledore. Once he'd made it clear to Lupin that he had no intentions of going back to Hogwarts, there had been no further communication from Dumbledore. None at all.

And yes, he had been indirectly responsible for the death of Haney Moastifer's brother. It had been his potions which had been used. But Voldemort had kept it from him that his creations were being used on wizards as well as Muggles. He'd witnessed his potions being used on Muggles twice. After that he'd remained in his lab and had only heard of their effects second hand and, yes, it had been his failing that he hadn't cared enough... Bloody hell! That he hadn't had the guts to protest.

He looked up as Alexander let out a whoop as he caught an updraft with his broomstick. Eirik was standing at the edge of the cliff, watching him, shouting instructions of some kind.

Seventeen. He'd only been seventeen. And so starved for someone to approve of him.

His son would never hunger that way.

He had been ready and willing to forgive Alexander for killing him in wolf form. Had Moastifer succeeded, he would be dead and Alexander would be struggling with the fact that he had killed his father. He didn't wish that burden of conscience on his son.

Yes, the boy he had been had made mistakes, but he had also paid for them. Over twenty years' worth of paying. His freedom had been severely restricted. Other than that one time, his only forays out into the world had been to Voldemort and his chastisements.

The man he was now would never forget.

Never to his dying day.

Was that enough?

He had been staring at the sea for some time, his eyes squinting against the glare of the afternoon sun, when Alexander came to sit next to him.

"Papa."

Severus looked at his so very serious son. What...

"Yes, Alexander."

"Papa, I need to talk with you about something."

Severus rested his cheek back on his knees, holding onto his legs tightly. Maybe Oddvar had been wrong after all. Maybe his son had found that... No, he wasn't going to presume.

"About what, Alexander."

Alexander took a deep breath and it all came out.

How, much as Alexander loved the house in Hillswick, he thought it might be better to offer it to...say, Bera Hillswick, for the next few years. She would take good care of it for him. She certainly could use the lab space. And Freya and Bera liked each other. Freya could still use it as her base. She'd only been remaining at the house to take care of his mother, and then them. Not like he had any need of the house. He would be at Hogwarts for most of the year for the next four years and then...who knew where?

How he would be more than pleased to spend his summers here in Harkmark with his family. He would miss his Hillswick cousins, but then they were going off to school in Lillehammer and to careers away from Hillswick and so was he. That he could certainly visit some of them for part of the summer if he and they so felt. Or they could come here: there was more than enough room.

About how - and he approached this cautiously, his eyes glued to Severus's, watching for any reaction - his, Severus's, presence in Britain irritated certain people. How it might be better if he didn't do that.

Severus let him wind down, not having said a word. He was stunned. Completely.

"Alexander..."

"Papa." Alexander reached out and gripped his hand. "Truly, papa, I think it would be best. This way, I won't worry about you while I'm at school."

"Worry about me?" Severus straightened. "Why?"

Alexander suddenly looked very adult, very parental - Severus was surprised by that thought. "You think I don't worry about you, papa? I mean, we both know that some people weren't pleased that all that happened to you was Banishment. I worry that they might find other reasons to come after you."

"Alex..."

"And I want you to be happy, papa. I mean the way you were when Rhodri and I arrived from school. You were really happy then, papa, and I want you to be happy like that again. And I think that if we stay in Hillswick, you'll worry too much to be happy."

"A..."

"And," interrupted Alexander, "I think that Onkel Eirik is the right partner for you and I'm afraid that you're going to send him away. He makes you very happy, papa. And if he's with you, I know I won't have to worry about you. He loves you and he'll take good care of you."

Severus stared at this child who was rearranging his life for him. And all he could think of saying was, "What about Christmas holidays? Won't you want to spend them in your home?"

Alexander shook his head, "Papa, you're my home. As long as you're around, I'll spend my holidays anywhere."

Severus felt himself choke up. "Oh, Alexander..."

His son grinned suddenly. "Besides, Onkel Eirik says those holidays are a great way of showing me the world. The warm places in the world. Well, warmer, anyways. Luc has invited us to join her in New York for the holidays this year. She wants Onkel Eirik to meet some people and she's fixed it with Master Throckmorton...he's the Potions Master at some school she went to...seems he publishes a lot and she says that he's looking forward to spending time with you...so you see you won't be bored while Onkel Eirik talks Art. And she says that maybe Geoff can join us so that the two of us could do things together. Like going to see Muggle movies. Seems there's this saga called Lord of the Something that she thinks we'll really enjoy seeing and that we can get to see all three movies and..."

Severus swallowed tears and laughter and held up his hand. "Enough. Let me think a little about all this, please, Alexander."

"At least give him time to breathe." Eirik dropped down onto the grass next to Severus.

Alexander grinned. "I'll see about supper, shall I?" And he left them alone.

Severus shook his head, trying to make sense of everything Alexander had told him. It would have been easier if Eirik hadn't stretched out next to him, eyes closed. Severus wanted to challenge him on all these changes that seemed to have been discussed and decided without his participation.

All he felt was hunger.

Hunger for this man. Damn it! He'd spent most of his life satisfied with his hand. He'd had Eirik in his bed for what, six, seven months? He'd been satisfied in so many ways. Why was it never enough?

"Why are you glaring at me that way?"

"How do you know I'm glaring?" Even Severus could hear the irritability in his voice. Which went up a notch when all Eirik did was smile.

"I'm taking Alexander to Ollivander's tomorrow. He wants to get his new wand from the same maker as yours. And we're picking out his new broom at the same time. Anything you want from Diagon Alley?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he growled. "It seems, between you and Alexander, you've decided everything else about my life."

Eirik smiled. "Yes, I guess we have. Well, the only thing you need to do is lie back and enjoy it."

Severus crossed his arms and propped them on his knees, dropped his chin onto them. He knew he sounded petulant when he muttered, "Really? It's been so long I doubt I can remember how that feels."

Eirik had the presence of mind not to laugh aloud though Severus did notice that his shoulders shook.

`My very dear Severus,'

Severus shook his head. The latest owl had delivered several letters for him. This one was from Minerva McGonagall. He wondered at the salutation. Her very dear Severus. Would wonders never cease!

They were in the library, he and Vigfus, unpacking and shelving the books Ketil had sent over. Vigfus was handling the books with a reverence that bordered on worship. Severus sighed. Even the house elf chosen for him by the others was more than he could have hoped for. Not only did Vigfus read, he could write with a fairly clear hand.

`Master Finnbogi came to see me about this summer's, well, I shall call it adventure as that is the term he used. Frankly, I doubt that it's the word you would use. Just as I am certain that it is the perfect one from the boys' points of view.

First of all, I am overjoyed that both boys came through it with barely a scratch. That's according to Master Finnbogi. I shall, of course, be more confident of that assessment when I see them with my very own eyes.

He also indicated that the matter is to be classified and that I was being informed, as were Professor Sun and Poppy, because of our roles in the boys' lives. He felt that we should all know in case there was some delayed response to the kidnapping.

Rest assured that Poppy, Yat...'

Severus shook his head. So now it was Yat. It seemed that his replacement was settling in quite well.

Loud screaming had him looking out the wall that was window to see Alexander and his cousins attempting to fly a loop in formation. Thankfully, Eirik was outside, keeping an eye on them all.

They were all going to Oddvar's 136th birthday celebration and Eirik had invited these Brekke cousins to keep Alexander company the last days before the party and his leaving for Hogwarts. The five visitors were all housed in Alexander's bedroom and the noise never stopped. One of the cousins had brought his collection of "The Dread" which he assured Severus was indeed music. Severus didn't see it that way, but Eirik had only shrugged and cast a silencing spell on their room.

Not that there was a need to keep any sounds from drifting out, he groused to himself. They had lain in that bed, cuddled together - chastely - since they'd gotten here, almost three weeks ago. He'd tried to initiate something more the other night only to have Eirik turn him around and spoon behind him in the manner in which they had been sleeping of late.

`Rest assure that Poppy, Yat and I will be keeping a close watch on both boys and will inform you immediately should there indeed be any repercussions.

Severus, I am so very sorry this happened. Yat was livid when Master Finnbogi informed us. He has added some specialized wards to the school and its grounds so that should certain people decide to surprise us with a visit, well, his cousin may find that he has company in his swamp!'

Sun Yat-Sun's letter was short and to the point.

`Snape,

I've taken care to see that the school will not be accessible to any with Auror training, unless by invitation.

I understand that Kynan will be told. I'll have a talk with him about letting me know if the boys have nightmares or if he senses any problems.

I've written to Ddu about this as well.

Sun'

Oddvar's letter was also short.

`Severus,

Thank you for the gift of Alexander's portrait that Eirik sent in both your names. It is all that more precious these days.

I expect by the time you get here for my celebration that you will be most desirous of peace and quiet. Helga's boys are a delight, but I sincerely believe they maintain their high energy levels by depleting that of those about them. And Thorfin's two are no easier. Still the family was very pleased with this, what they call another sign of your positive influence on Eirik. He's never had any of the boys over to Light's Delight before. Only Magrit's twin girls have had that privilege. And the girls have been lording it over everybody.

I hope you have been giving some thought to what we discussed that last day in Hillswick.'

And he'd signed it: your loving father-in-law to be?

Severus stood up and went to see how the boys were succeeding in this plan of theirs to fly in formation over the celebration, scattering... What was it they were going to scatter? Whatever they had decided had sent Eirik into gales of laughter.

Severus sighed. He had the feeling that he should be resuming his role of parent where this plan was concerned. Otherwise the family might think he wasn't holding his part of the bargain of being a sobering influence on Eirik.

He watched as a seventh broom joined the six in the air, leading them in a swooping loop with a twirl.

Damn the family, he thought. His sobriety would have to be enough.

They all flew to Oddvar Brekke's homestead with the boys taking advantage of the time to practice this formation thing of theirs. Severus had to admit that it was quite impressive.

Freya was among those waiting for them when they landed.

She hugged Alexander and then passed him on to his grandfather. Eirik got a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. Severus got a thorough once-over before she stepped up and put her arms around him.

"Severus," she murmured, "welcome back."

Oddvar also looked him over with a discerning eye and then smiled at him. "So, you've survived the barbarian horde, have you?"

Severus looked to the boys who were greeting their parents and siblings loudly with whoops and voices battling for their attention. "They're no worse than the third years after their first visit to Hogsmeade."

Oddvar grinned. "Very diplomatic of you, Severus."

Oddvar's celebration went well. On the whole.

Most of the family was there. Many of the Coven had come and used the time to catch up on the lives of their grown children and of their children.

Severus made himself pay more careful attention. He began putting names to faces and remembering who belonged to whom.

He was cornered that first evening by Eirik's mother. Hildigunn Neilsen Brekke was a slight woman with eyes that seemed to be off into another world. Severus frankly wondered if she weren't under the influence of something or other. She didn't once ask him about his relationship with Eirik but seemed only interested in his views on Egyptian mythology, about which she was writing a paper. Since Severus had no real views on the subject, their talk was not of long duration.

Still, when she rose to leave him, she patted his hand and her eyes were suddenly very focused. "Bill Weasley told me that you were a bastard in the classroom, but it was only after he left Hogwarts that he realized just how good you were and how much more he knew about potions than his colleagues. He told me that this knowledge has come in very handy in several instances, especially the medical potions you insisted they learn. He said that, looking back on his years at Hogwarts, he discovered - much to his surprise - that he had great respect for you."

Her smile was reflected in her eyes.

"I've always been very fond of Alexander. He's a very lovely boy. But I must also admit that I've wondered where he'd come by his spine. Inga was sweet but too frail to have one."

Another of the Coven cornered him when he went to inspect...well, hide in Oddvar's library. The Finnish wife. Another werewolf. A judge.

She was more focused than Hildigunn and more knowledgeable about his connection to Voldemort. By the time Oddvar rescued him, he had great appreciation for her abilities as an interrogator.

"What did Aud quiz you on?"

Severus felt his eyebrow rise. "Quiz? If that was a quiz, I would hate to have her question me at trial."

Oddvar grinned. "She's brilliant." Then he shrugged. "But impossible to live with. I suppose she wanted to know about Voldemort. There is a possible resurgence of some Dark Force in the far North. She's determined to stop it before it gets anywhere nearly as strong as Voldemort."

By morning and breakfast, Severus had an idea of which wife was kind, which disinterested, which to avoid for whatever reason. He also had a sense of which of Eirik's siblings he wouldn't be able to tolerate, and which he would.

He met Magrit, Aud's daughter, and her seven year old twins. The girls were quite vocal in their envy of Alexander and his new living quarters. Magrit was very pregnant and offered Eirik another two winters in Crete to paint this set of twins after they were born. And could he paint them with her husband's favourite crups?

"Babies and puppies, what did I tell you, Riky."

Severus had to bite his lip to keep from laughing aloud at Eirik's expression of complete disgust.

"Luc!" Eirik snapped. "Were you the one who put that idea into her mind?"

Magrit patted her stomach as she laughed. "No, seriously, Eirik. Costa would so like to have his sons and his crups immortalized together in a Northlander."

Eirik scoffed. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Magrit. I do not paint," and he glared at Luc who had come to take Severus's arm, "babies and puppies!"

"Not even for a winter in Rome?"

Eirik turned his glare onto his sibling. "Rome? What the hell are you talking about?"

Magrit smiled placidly. "Costa is taking up a posting in Rome in the new year. He's told me to offer you a villa in the hills behind Rome for the winter the boys are three so you can paint them, plus two other winters of your choice at his family's villa in Crete."

Luc tugged at Severus until he bent his head. "Bet you he settles for two in Rome as well as two in Crete."

Severus turned his head and whispered back. "Just how hard is he going to be to live with while he's painting babies and puppies?"

And Luc laughed.

Eirik growled at her, "What are you doing here?"

Luc ignored the tone and kissed his cheek. "I was invited by your so charming father. Harry will be joining us as soon as he can. His Beauxbatons came back early for some Quidditch training and they're playing an exhibition match in North Africa."

Gustav's father-in-law had also been invited. And that's when Severus discovered that, while he'd been attending conferences in Milano, Eirik had been doing more than sketching. Sigwulf Nansen was a Danish werewolf and prize-winning architect. He arrived with a scroll of plans for a laboratory to be built behind and separate from Eirik's studio.

"Your bloody painter thinks that by going around asking Potion Masters what their idea of the perfect lab would be and then handing me their fantasies, I should be able to put something together for you. Idiot doesn't understand that labs are like studios: each has to satisfy the peculiarities of its user. He should know that," he growled, in a rumbling voice. "Drove me bloody crazy with his specifications!"

He and Severus were in Oddvar's library, with the door firmly shut. Nansen had been very definite on their not being interrupted. He rolled out the scroll and Severus was amazed to see a variety of drawings which he recognized were done in Eirik's hand.

"Not much practicality to these," snarled the architect. "Now you seem to be a man of good sense, so take a look at this." And he rolled out another scroll, this time of a clear, detailed building that was definitely not Eirik's work.

"Seems to me that your lab needs three specific areas: one for dangerous and delicate work. That's why I've enclosed this section. And then you need decent storage space. Eirik said that you like to keep completed potions away from ingredients. I thought these two pantries. Lots of room for shelving and drawers. Notice the cupboards under the every-day work counters and tables? For implements. Clean-up area is separate to avoid any contamination. Ventilating system is the latest available. With a few of my modifications. Ditto for lighting. And I'm thinking of incorporating some security wards and spells in the fabric of the building itself. We can discuss those later. Of course you'll want to add your own to the entire construction after it's completed. Wouldn't do to have the children accidentally wander in. Or to offer too much temptation to the older ones."

Severus finally realized that his mouth was still open. He shut it. He took a deep breath and another look at the plans. "It's rather large, isn't it?"

Nansen lit a cheroot and blew the smoke away. "Oddvar seemed to think that you were going to need a couple of assistants for some of the work he intends sending your way. And Eirik thought that you might like to take on a couple of apprentices. He wants me to add a small cottage to the property, large enough to comfortably house a couple of people at a time."

Severus found a chair and drew it up: he sat down. He stopped himself from reaching for the plans. "What is it that you want in barter from me?"

Nansen puffed furiously on his cheroot and then walked out of the cloud of smoke he'd created to go round the desk and stare at Severus.

"Eirik is going to paint my wife for me in exchange for the plans. He's made it clear, however, that particular details have to be worked out between the two of us." He dropped into a chair: he looked like the elder werewolf he was. A big, brawny man, with a mass of grey hair and eyes that were definitely wolfish.

"You invented the Wolfsbane."

Severus went to shrug that away as he always did, but something told him that his attempt at modesty was not going to go over well. "Yes."

"You published the formula."

Severus nodded.

"So that it was available to anyone who wanted it."

Again Severus nodded, wondering at the point of all this.

"You could have sold it to some maker of products and made a fortune. After all, though werewolves are not as plentiful as we once were, there are still a goodly number of us around."

Severus didn't move.

"I use your potion. I have a daughter who loves playing around with things like that. She goes to Lillehammer. Her last year. Got into that specialized class they have for bright ones."

Sigwulf Nansen took another puff of his cheroot. "Every month I thank you for your generosity of spirit, Snape. There really is no need of barter between us. However, you have a son who may one day need some plans of his own, for whatever reason. I will barter you those for your going to Lillehammer and spending a few days with Lizabeth's class."

Severus looked at his hands. "How many is a few?"

Sigwulf frowned. "Well, let's just say as many as you can tolerate. Will that do?"

Severus smiled. "I'm not known for my tolerance. Nor my patience. But I will agree to this barter. I've been asked to visit Lillehammer but for various reasons I've put it off. This will please Professor Thorvald as well as your daughter."

Sigwulf nodded. "Fair enough." He stood up and went back to the plans. "Now, let's see how crazy you're going to drive me with your demands. Let's start with the basic layout."

That night, in Eirik's old bedroom, in their chaste bed, Severus confronted Eirik about the lab.

"Look," said his erstwhile lover, "I have my studio. Alexander has more than enough room upstairs for whatever he wants to do for some years. You need a workplace. Nansen is the best architect around. Hell, Severus, I was going to paint his wife anyways. She's a sweetheart and she deserves it just for putting up with the old goat for all the years she has. Look, if it's the cost of building..."

"No, it is not the cost of building. Nansen's estimate is well within my means. Merlin knows, more galleons go into my vault than ever come out. It's just..."

"Just that this is another decision into which you haven't had any input."

Severus folded his arms under his head and sighed. "Yes, well, I admit that I've had other things on my mind lately."

Eirik propped himself up on an elbow. "You needed the time, Severus. But I like the fact that all this is irritating you. It's a good sign that maybe you've come to a conclusion in your own mind about those other things."

And with that, he rolled over and was soon snoring softly.

Severus grimaced at the nightshirt-covered back. Eirik had started wearing nightshirts after he had moved them to Light's Delight. Orm had snickered the first time he'd had to lay it out on their bed.

Severus signed, punched his pillow, and tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

All in all, he thought, the term irritating was a little too tame.

In fact, the whole thing was beginning to edge into the bloody frustrating!

Severus watched Oddvar blow out the candles on his cake helped by his youngest children and his grandchildren and wondered if Alexander's children would help him blow out his when..if he reached this age.

Harry and Luc were beside Severus, holding on to each other laughing as the youngest of Oddvar's children, who was three, helped himself to a handful of icing and shoved it into his mouth while his father pretended not to see.

Alexander was with Helga's boys. Severus had to admit that he admired the woman. Anything the boys did she countered with an impressive sang-froid that left him wondering how she would have dealt with his Slytherins at their worst. Probably barely turned a hair.

She certainly didn't react much - unlike Thorfin's wife - when the boys flew formation and scattered those below with a pixie dust mixture which caused everyone's voices to rise several octaves for over an hour.

Severus wondered if the producer of the dust had been his son. He decided he really didn't want to know.

He finally found Eirik in a far corner, away from the fall-out, laughing his head off. He was more than delighted to toss a handful of the dust that he'd collected over Eirik's head. Listening to Eirik's laughter rise to beyond sqeakiness was very satisfying indeed.

He met Lizabeth Nansen and was pleasantly surprised by the intelligent questions she asked. She squealed with delight - well, they were all still squealing at that point - when he told her that he would be accepting Thorvald's invitation to spend some time at Lillehammer. Sigwulf Nansen beamed at her happiness and offered Severus a cheroot.

The next morning, after a private goodbye, Alexander left for Hogwarts. Freya went with him as she wanted to meet with Poppy Pomfrey about a manual the two medi-witches were putting together, for new parents, dealing with every day bumps and bruises. Oddvar seemed loath to let her go, but she kissed him on the cheek and then patted it. Alexander was still snickering when they apparated.

Luc was accompanying Harry back to Beauxbatons and then returning to New York to see an exhibition of a new artist she thought she might be interested in representing. She confirmed her invitation for the holidays with Severus.

"Please, Sevvie, you mustn't worry about putting me out. I've made arrangements to house sit and the place has more than enough room for all of us and Alex's pal, Geoffy. Besides, I know that Throcky is dying to meet you."

She stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. "I'm giving you two the large bedroom so that you can spell it for all the silence you want." And she winked at him.

Big bloody deal, thought Severus.

They were alone in the house when they got back, he and Eirik.

Eirik immediately disappeared into his studio and Severus found that he felt an overwhelming urge to pout.

He looked out at the view, walked about the living room, picking up one thing or another. He examined the portrait that Eirik had hung of Alexander and Rhodri. Luc would be very pleased with it, unhappy that she couldn't sell it. Eirik intended giving it to Alexander for Solstice.

He sighed. Sat down. Stood up.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" he shouted at the walls and went charging out of the house, stomping down the path, muttering curses, then barged into the studio where Eirik was sitting on a table, calmly watching the door.

"I've had enough!" shouted Severus. "Enough! All right, I acted like an idiot. I will admit it to whomever you want. I will yell it from the top of the hill. I will write to the Daily Prophet and have them print it in their letters page. Will that do?"

"Depends," said Eirik, in that irritating, unruffled tone. "What do you expect me to do in return?"

"How about fucking me for starters!"

Eirik cocked his head. He looked as though he was thinking about that and it was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

"Oh, bloody hell!" And Severus grabbed Eirik's head and took possession of his mouth. Roughly. In a most determined fashion.

And as his mouth was busy with Eirik's, his hands were tearing away at his lover's clothes. Then at his. And then there were two sets of hands, not just his.

When they were naked, he pulled back, snapped his fingers and then dug them into the jar of unguent that had appeared. His angry glare daring his lover to say anything, he quickly greased Eirik's appreciative cock and then, kicking his lowered trousers and boots out of the way, used the surplus to grease his own arsehole.

"Move up!" he snarled. And when he found Eirik wasn't moving fast enough to suit him, Severus encouraged him with the palm of his hand against his hip. Hard. Eirik moved a lot faster then. Severus joined him on the table. He grabbed Eirik's cock and gave it a few careful strokes, bringing him to an even harder state. Then, eyes angry, mouth sneering, he straddled his prone lover who was watching him with yellow eyes blazing as he aligned cock to arsehole and sat firmly down.

He closed his eyes as he dealt with the flash of pain that was eased when Eirik shouted, his voice angry and concerned, "You bloody idiot, what the hell are you trying to do?"

Severus opened his eyes and enunciated very clearly. "I am trying to get laid. Do you mind? Now then, lie back and enjoy it," he snarled, "before I lose my temper."

Eirik's hands went to Severus's hips, helping him balance as he fucked himself on Eirik's cock.

"Arsehole," muttered Eirik, lovingly.

Severus looked down. "Yes, I am. Your arsehole, if you still want me."

"Forever."

Severus leaned over, supporting his weight on his hands, and kissed his man. "Eirik."

Eirik shoved his hips up, sighing as he did so. "Been so long."

"Well," snapped Severus, "whose bloody fault is that?"

Eirik grinned as he licked his lips. "Severus."

"Yes?"

"Shut up and bring me off."

Severus pushed himself back up and, smiling, rose slowly, gripping Eirik's cock with his internal muscles as he did. The moan that elicited was balm to his fears that he was no longer wanted by this beautiful, marvelous, irritating man. Severus braced his hands on Eirik's arms as he moved up and down.

They were both primed. Eirik came after only a few more of those strokes, and when Severus reached for his cock, his hand was slapped away and another took control. He shouted as he came.

With a gasp, he slowly collapsed forward and rested his head next to Eirik's. Eirik's hands held him, fingertips working into his back muscles. Severus took a deep breath and then sighed, relieved.

"Eirik."

"Hmm?"

"You smell right."

Eirik grew very still. "What?"

Severus smiled at the stunned tone. He turned his head and inhaled deeply again. "I finally understand what you mean when you say that to me because now you smell right to me."

Eirik said nothing. Severus wondered if maybe he had assumed too much. He raised his head.

Eirik was smiling at the ceiling.

One of the sappiest smiles Severus had ever seen on anyone's face.

He moved his head so that he could look into the yellow wolf eyes. "Eirik, are you all right?"

Eirik's grin grew even sappier, if that was at all possible. "Say that again."

Severus rested his weight on his elbows to either side of Eirik's chest and wriggled his arse: Eirik's cock, still in him, got a little harder. "If you want. Eirik, are you all right?"

"Not that!"

Severus was suddenly aware that he too was grinning. He wriggled his arse again. "Oh, you mean the smell part?"

"Yes," Eirik growled, "I mean the smell part."

Severus sat up, making certain that Eirik's cock was not going anywhere. He gave it a little squeeze and Eirik moaned.

"You smell right, Eirik."

Eirik's hands rose to caress Severus's chest. "Does that mean you love me too?"

Now serious, Severus nodded. "I do love you. I have for a while but I was afraid to say it."

Eirik's smile was gentle. "Yes, love, I know. And just in case you've forgotten because I know I haven't said it lately, I love you, too."

Severus leaned over again and took his time claiming Eirik's mouth. "You taste good, too."

Eirik's sappy smile was back. "Really? You know what this means, don't you?"

Severus shook his head.

"It means you have to make an honest man out of me."

That took Severus by surprise. He had to think a moment. "You want a Handfasting Ceremony?"

"Oh, yes, I want a Handfasting Ceremony. I want my ring on your finger. For my own sense of security."

"Are you certain? Eirik, I love you but...there is a side of me that seems...to fear happiness."

"I know." Eirik's hand caressed Severus's face: he leaned into the hand. "But it's all right. I have a better idea now on how to handle that side of you. And it's a fair trade. After all, you have to deal with Riky."

"I look forward to that," Severus promised.

Eirik's smile softened. "Severus. Much as I love you and you love me, there's a brush digging into my shoulder. And I think there's wet paint between my back and the tabletop. Not to mention your cum all over our chests. Do you think that maybe we could postpone the next round long enough to make it to the shower before we hit the bed?"

They planned the Handfasting Ceremony for the evening after the Winter Solstice. Oddvar Brekke insisted that they hold it in his house so that various family members and friends could be present.

Alexander arrived from Hogwarts with Rhodri and Geoff. The three of them would be going on to New York with Eirik and Severus after the Ceremony. It was the first time since first year that Severus had seen Geoffroi Kynan. The boy was thin, taller than Alexander, yet shorter than Rhodri who had yet again grown. He wore his long, black hair in a ponytail tied back with a black leather tong. It took Severus a day to conclude the boy had blue eyes behind those drooping eyelids. And a sense of humour that fit in well with Helga's boys.

He was thankful that it would be too dark for any kind of fly-over, the evening of the Ceremony.

The Ddus joined them later that afternoon. In return for taking Rhodri to New York, they were taking all three boys with them to Romania for a week at the end of the school year. The Reservists there were on the whole younger and Evan thought that since Rhodri was beginning to show some interest in the family `business', it might be a good thing to let him see for himself that not all Reserves were manned by elderly wizards and witches.

Luc arrived with Harry.

Severus caught Eirik watching them more carefully than he ever had.

"What?" he asked that night as they were soaking together in the tub off Eirik's room.

"Well, it's been eight months. I can't remember Luc keeping anyone around for more than three or four months. She's always claimed that she bores easily."

Severus pulled Eirik back against him, scooping handfuls of water to wet his shoulders and chest. And then Eirik's hand slipped around and they had other things to think about.

Still, the next morning, after breakfast, Severus managed to get a private word with Luc. Harry was his friend and the younger man had had too many losses in his life. He needed to know if Luc had passed this time limit of hers because she honestly cared for Harry or whether she was only feeling sorry for him.

"I know this is none of my business," he started.

Luc, the agent, grinned. In honour of the season, she was dressed in reds and greens and golds, colours repeated in her short hair. "Sevvie, whenever anyone begins with those words, it's a sure sign that it isn't. But because you're you, I'll listen. Is this about Riky?"

Severus shook his head. "No. Rest assured that I shall never interfere between you and Eirik. You two have strong enough personalities to handle whatever problem arises between you - should any do - without my getting involved. No, this has to do with Harry."

"Oh."

Severus was surprised to see Luc lose the agent to replace her with a woman who looked a little confused. "Luc, what's wrong?"

She sat on the steps where he'd stopped her and propped her elbows on her knees. Concerned at her behaviour, he sat next to her.

"I suppose that Eirik told you that I don't usually have relationships that last this long."

Severus nodded. He reached out and took one of her hands in his. She clasped his.

"I'm a good agent, Sevvie; I can fight anyone and anything for the artists I represent. But that means I'm not easy to live with."

"Strong people never are."

She nodded. "I tried once, you know. When I was much younger. We lasted less than a year. We loved each other at the beginning and loathed the sight of each other by the end. He'd been attracted to me because of my strength and then he hated me because I was strong. Because I was making a name for myself without his help. Without his input. He thought that I should listen to his advice and follow it." She sighed. "He was a decent artist, but he didn't understand that representing artists isn't the same thing."

"Have you always be drawn to artists?" Severus kept his voice sympathetic.

Luc shrugged. "You know how it is. I work in that world, I socialize in that world."

"But Harry isn't part of that world."

Luc sighed again. "No, he isn't. And he has a world of his own. I listen to him when he bitches about practice or some match. He listens to me when I bitch about gallery owners or artists too stupid to trust me. But I don't offer him advice on how to deal with his world and he doesn't offer me advice on how to deal with mine. It seems to be enough that we do listen to each other."

She passed her free hand through her short locks. "And we don't live in each other's pockets. He's based in Britain and I'm in New York. We see each other a lot and it's always nice to get together again." She leaned into Severus, in a comradely fashion. "And, yes I know I'm a lot older than he is. But he's far older than he really is. And he finds me fun and lovely. And he likes me as I am. And, Merlin!, Sevvie, is he ever sexy! Those eyes of his! He looks at me over the top of his glasses...in that certain way he has...and all I want to do is jump on his bones." She giggled. "And I do."

Then her mood changed to the serious. "Oh, Sevvie, I'm fucking in love with him and he'll break my heart when he's had enough of me!"

Severus put his arm around her. "Luciana, I know this is none of my business..."

Her giggle was rather watery.

"I can't speak for Harry, but looking at him with you, I think that Harry may feel as you do. I know I'm not one to talk, but I do have some advice to offer you. Speak to him. Ask him how he feels. He's probably as unsure about all this as you are."

She sniffed and accepted the handkerchief he offered her. "I take it this is the voice of experience I'm hearing?"

Severus smiled at her. "It took me some time and a few people had to hit me over the head, but yes, I recommend it."

Luc cocked her head, looking at him. "You're very sweet, Sevvie. Eirik is a lucky man to have found you."

Severus shook his head. "I was the one who was found, and, yes, I am lucky. I like you, Luciana Fortunata. And I'd like you to be as lucky as I have been."

Freya had insisted that he and Eirik spend their last night as bachelors in separate rooms. He'd thought the idea a little bizarre considering they'd been living together for almost a year. But, as usual, Freya was proved right.

He'd changed into a rarely used nightshirt when there was a soft knocking on his door. As though the knocker wasn't certain he was asleep and didn't want to wake him if he were

He opened the door to his son.

"May I come in?"

Severus smiled and gestured Alexander in. The boy was garbed in a nightshirt, his feet bare. Severus shook his head. "Get into the bed before your feet turn blue."

Alexander was more than pleased to comply. "I didn't realize just how cold the floors were."

Severus sat next to his son and slipped his hands under the covers to take the icy cold feet into his hands. He rubbed brusquely, grinning at Alexander's moans of pleasure.

"Papa."

"Yes, Alexander."

"Papa, I love you."

Severus stopped rubbing his son's feet. He looked into a pair of intense grey eyes and smiled. "I love you, too, Alexander. Very much."

Alexander wriggled his feet and Severus got the message: he began rubbing them again.

"I think this is a really good thing you and Onkel Eirik are doing."

Severus wondered if this was going to be another of those surprising conversations. He seemed to have had more than a few of them with this son of his.

"Yes, I think so, too."

"Onkel Eirik has always been my favourite uncle, you know."

Severus only nodded, wondering where this was going.

"I guess you could say that I love him. Not like I love you, but..."

Severus smiled. "But love nevertheless. It's all right, Alexander, I am beginning to understand more about love."

Alexander looked sheepish. "I know this isn't really important to you, but I would like to give you my permission and my blessing to marry him."

Severus stilled.

"I mean, after all, Onkel Eirik did ask me for permission to court you..."

"Alexander." He was surprised that he could speak without his voice breaking.

"Yes, papa?"

"Your..." He had to clear his voice and start again. "Your permission is very important to me. Your ble...blessing is all the more. Thank you, Alexander."

And he pulled his son into his arms and held him tightly. Alexander's arms were equally tight around his neck as he buried his face in the nook of Severus's shoulder.

Severus looked at his son who had eventually fallen asleep, his arms still wrapped around his father. The light from the fireplace flickered shadows about the room. Severus rested his cheek on his son's head and found himself reflecting on his life the moment this child had entered it.

A child who had loved him and had done so when he himself had found nothing to love in himself.

He shook his head, remembering how fearful he'd been when he and Inga had discussed Alexander's remaining at Hogwarts. He had initially refused, telling her that he had no love in him. That it didn't matter what Alexander was, werewolf or not, that he just didn't have it in himself to love.

All she had done was smile at him.

She'd said that Alexander was easy to love and somehow the child had found his way into a heart Severus would have sworn he didn't have.

How had she known?

And through Alexander he had found so many things. Things that he had never expected to find.

A home.

A family.

He almost laughed aloud: a huge family, with all that represented.

Friends who cared for him and whom he cared for.

Whoever would have thought that he would one day hear himself advising someone on their love life?

And more than that, that he would have a love life of his own on which to base that advice.

He had Eirik because of Alexander. He had a life because of Alexander.

Severus kissed his son's head.

He had hope in his life because this child had come into it.

He had been the one to pick this day for the Handfasting Ceremony. The evening after the Winter Solstice. Not just because it meant that so many could join them.

It was the night when the Dark was left behind and the Light began reclaiming its place.

And that was the life he was leaving behind. The Dark.

With Alexander and Eirik, Freya and Oddvar, Luc and Harry, the Ddus and all the Brekkes drawing him into the Light.

And somehow he knew, deep within himself, that, from now on, he was going to remain there, in the Light.

Oddvar was up early and working in his office. Holiday or not, Ceremony or not, he still had reports to read.

He was a little surprised when there was a soft knock at his door. He'd warned everyone the night before that he had work to do.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Eirik peered around. "I know you're busy but I need to show you something."

Oddvar pushed the report to one side. It amused him that this confident son of his sounded rather nervous.

"Having second thoughts?"

Eirik almost looked insulted but he shook his head as he dropped into a chair in front of Oddvar's desk.

"That's good. Then it means that you're doing the right thing."

Eirik grinned. "The voice of experience."

Oddvar sat back. "Actually, not really. The only time I didn't have second thoughts was when I married Gudrid."

"Papa, are you going to marry Freya?"

Oddvar shook his head. "I'm afraid it's more of will she marry me. She's determined to wait until my term as President is over. Then she wants me to court her."

Eirik laughed and Oddvar had to admit that, yes, the situation did have its funny side. But he did have reports that were calling to him.

"Is there something I can help you with, Eirik?"

Eirik sat up and pulled a small box out of his robe pocket. He handed it over to his father.

Oddvar opened it. It contained two wide bands.

"For the Ceremony?"

Eirik nodded.

"They're beautiful."

And they were. Of Eirik's design. Filigreed gold, patterned in wolf's paw prints with a gold serpent weaving its way in and out of the open spaces. The bands were wider than the norm, a good inch wide, perfect for slim, long-fingered hands.

Eirik leaned over, whispered a word, and the serpents rolled over, showing their bellies. On one of them, the words `You smell right' were engraved: on the other, `You taste right'. Another word and the serpents rolled back again.

Oddvar smiled. "Perfect. For both of you." He handed the box back to his son.

"No. I didn't want you just to see these. I want you to spell them. With the Clan spell."

Oddvar was moved. It was an old werewolf custom, to have the patriarch of the Clan offer a spell of good fortune at a Handfasting Ceremony. An even older one was to spell something the couple was going to use. Of all the Ceremonies of his children he had attended, it was only the second time this particular spell had been asked of him.

He took both bands out of the case and held them in one hand. With his eyes closed, he found the old spell that had once been used - rarely these days - in the Clan his forefathers had belonged to.

He felt the metal warm in his hands as he said the words in the old language and added a small one of his own, that these two men would know what it was to love each other until the end of their days.

With a smile, he put the bands back into their case and, rising, handed it to his son.

"Thank you, papa."

And Oddvar stepped around his desk to hold his son in his arms.

The Ceremony was a simple one.

Severus, dressed in his usual black, was accompanied by Alexander who wore his formal robe in Slytherin green. They stood to one side of the large fireplace in the Brekke living room, whose cheery flames reflected the feeling in the room. Opposite him, Eirik, in a new robe of his favourite teal, was accompanied by Oddvar wearing his formal President's robe.

"I, Eirik Brekke, do swear in front of these witnesses, of family and friends, to be true to you, Severus Snape, in dark times and in light, in sickness and in health; to respect you and hold you dear until the end of my days."

"I, Severus Snape, do swear in front of these witnesses, of family and friends, to be true to you, Eirik Brekke, in dark times and in light, in sickness and in health; to respect you and hold you dear until the end of my days."

Alexander handed Severus the band to put on Eirik's finger as Oddvar handed Eirik the one for Severus.

As Eirik slipped the band onto Severus's finger, he whispered, "You smell right, Severus."

Severus smiled. As he slipped the band onto Eirik's finger, he leaned over and whispered, "You taste right, too, Eirik."

And he leaned a little more so that he met Eirik's mouth as it came towards him.

Oddvar didn't wait for them to break apart. He turned to those in the room. "Ladies, gentlemen, Alexander and I would be honoured if you would raise your glasses."

Vigfus and Orm presented the two attendants with glasses of their own. Oddvar and Alexander raised them.

Oddvar Brekke smiled at the gathering. "Before I pronounce the Spell of Good Fortune upon these two who are setting off together on their journey through life, Alexander wishes to say something to all of us."

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Alexander, turning to the two men, his smile radiant, "I give you my parents, Severus and Eirik."

Epilogue

| Harry Potter Index | Fiction Index | Main Page |