Chapter Six by Soul Bound

Disclaimer: Wouldn't it be nice if we could legally profit fiscally from playing with J.K. Rowling's toys? I think so too . . . . But as that isn't likely to happen any time in the foreseeable future, on with the show (free of charge)!

Thanks go to RobisonRocket for the beta! We appreciate it, mate!

This is the sixth chapter of a round robin, which is being brought to you by some of the Admins here at the Petulant Poetess (amsev, LadyintheCloak, Soul Bound, and Southern_Witch_69). I have more details listed in the author's note at the bottom.

Chapter Six by Soul Bound

Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom sat across from one another at a table in a corner of the Three Broomsticks. They'd ordered their drinks several minutes before, and Harry was listening patiently as Neville stuttered through several attempts to continue the explanation he had promised. He'd first told Harry that he did indeed plan to ask the woman he loved to marry him. Harry had been rather surprised at first, but he'd quickly realized that he probably should have expected it. It wasn't that strange, after all, that Neville would feel that way about her. The two of them had been through a lot together.

"So you can see, you know . . . well, why I didn't want to tell you...well, anyone really. It's just that . . . Oh, thank you, love..." Neville halted his rambling as Madam Rosmerta placed a full pint of Firewhisky in front of him. "Listen, mate. This is hard to explain. You just can't help who you love, you know."

Harry nodded, wanting to appear encouraging. He really wanted the full story from Neville, and the already nervous man might be frightened off if Harry pushed too hard. "Go on," he said.

"I don't want to lose your friendship . . . or Ron's, and I know how he feels about the men she dates . . . . And you...I knew that you might not . . . approve," Neville said, looking away.

"Of course not! I mean, of course I would approve, Nev. I meant that of course I wouldn't object to you," he clarified at Neville's briefly hurt expression. "You're my friend, and you've always been a good friend to her, too. If anyone could be there for her the way she needs, it would be you."

"Thanks, Harry. That means a lot," Neville said with a smile.

And Harry found that he truly meant it. It was true that Neville could be clumsy and a bit awkward at times, but he was a great man where it counted. True, this was a surprise, but the more he thought about it, the less it surprised him and the more it made sense. He found himself truly hoping Neville's proposal went well. He thought of his own lovely fiancée, and a rush of happiness filled him. 'Everyone should have the chance to be as happy as I am,' he thought. "So, how are you going to ask her?" he said aloud with a grin, and he watched Neville's face light up as he smiled in return.

"You really don't mind?"

"Of course I don't mind. You didn't really need it, but you have my blessing. Now, let's hear it!"

All nervousness finally disappeared from Neville as he visibly relaxed and took a swig of his whisky. "Well," he said quietly, leaning forward with a conspiratorial smirk, "I've been planning for this Friday, but I still need to hammer out the finishing touches, and until Hermione and Snape come back . . ."

* * *

After Severus had finally relaxed, Hermione had found it much easier to have a nice discussion with him. Even though they had both long since had their fill of biscuits and tea...as well as a much needed trip to the loo...Hermione was hesitant to do anything that might put a stop to their truce. She didn't know when, if ever, Severus would be so pleasant again. Seeing him smile like this, being with him . . . it brought to the forefront the feelings for him that she had long been unwilling to examine too closely.

Severus kept everyone at arm's length and had for a very long time. She knew her attraction and admiration for him were real, but for as long as she'd had these feelings, she'd known that allowing them to take root in her would only end up hurting her.

He was prickly, unpredictable, easily offended, and generally unpleasant . . . and yet there were times like these...and several instances since they'd been lost together...when he smiled, when his sense of humor shone through, and when it was easy for her to know why she felt the way she did about him. It was true that as quickly and unexpectedly he would smile, his mood would quickly turn in the opposite direction, but that was just the way he was. It didn't bother her too much. What bothered her about it wasn't his sharpness...by now she was rather used to it...it was that she wasn't ever sure what would offend him until she had already said it. But . . . she could learn, and maybe if they were . . . together . . . he would learn not to take everything she said in the worst way possible.

The thought gave her a shiver and made her smile. She didn't know if it was possible, given who he was, who she was, and what they had both been through without each other, but if they could be together . . . It had to be possible. It wasn't really so unlikely, was it? People fell in love every day, found someone to share their life with every day . . . . Why was it so impossible that they could?

She really did want him to be happy, but just as much, she wanted to be the one to make him happy, and she wanted to be happy herself...with him. They only thing was . . . she wasn't sure how he felt.

"Severus, can I ask you something?"

A doubtful look settled on his features, but he nodded his head once in assent.

"It's just . . . earlier, when we almost kissed...no, wait! Please just listen. When we almost kissed, I wasn't thinking that I wanted to kiss you because it would make you happy. I was thinking that I wanted to kiss you because . . . because it would make me happy." She risked a glance at him to gauge his reaction and found him staring intently at her. He hadn't stopped her, so she continued. "I don't feel pity for you. Not at all. I feel . . . admiration for you, attraction . . . desire. What I want to ask you is . . . could you ever feel those things for me?"

Her heart was thumping madly in her chest, and she took a deep breath to calm herself a bit and waited.

He was silent for a long time, and after a while, every second began to take its toll. What was he thinking? She couldn't imagine his continued silence was anything good . . . . She was considering making a break for the still-open door, but then he spoke.

"I could. I . . . do," he said softly.

She was sure her smile could be seen from cities away, but it didn't last long; his next words weren't so wonderful.

"But I shouldn't, and I . . . It's not a good idea for me...or you...to indulge in them. I have been alone for a long time. There are things about me that you could never understand, and trying to change now, this late in my life . . . It's not feasible. Even if we do . . . feel a certain way about each other, I don't think it is wise to pursue it. It would only end up hurting both of us."

Hermione took in his words, and they left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her eyes narrowed, and her hands clenched as she replied. "So what you're saying . . . is that my feelings, your own feelings, are worthless...that any happiness we could find with each other isn't worth the risk of getting hurt." It wasn't a question. "I see."

In her frustration, the cheery feeling of the teashop suddenly didn't feel welcoming. She found she'd had quite enough of this room, this entire adventure. She got to her feet quickly and made for the door.

"Hermione, try to understand. It's not..."

"Not what?" she demanded, whirling around to glare at him. "Is it really so impossible to think we could have a relationship? I know what kind of man you are. I know the kind of life you've lived. No, I don't know everything about you, but I know enough to know that I respect you and want to be with you. How can you say that I could never understand you? In all the time we've been friends, when have I ever judged you? I don't care that you have ghosts that haunt you and skeletons in your closet, Snape. We all do. Why do you insist on believing that no one could ever accept you?"

He was silent again for several moments as she stared at him. "There are some bridges that can't be crossed," he finally said, his face an emotionless mask. "I'm sorry."

"You have never been more wrong," she replied, then turned and left the room without a backward glance.

Once back in the corridor, she found that once again, there was only one other door. Hoping that the game was finally over and that the door was the way back to reality, she pulled it open and stepped through...and let out a frustrated sigh. The main corridors of Hogwarts didn't contain any lakes or hills. Something moved in the periphery to her right, and she saw what appeared to be a Marmot. No, she certainly couldn't recall ever have seen one of those in the school.

Well, best to get it over with...whatever it was she was supposed to find. As she walked forward, she heard Severus enter the room behind her, but she didn't look back. Thinking about his stubbornness was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

She followed the trail and soon found herself standing in the middle of a camp. Her eyes widened as she recognized the people sitting around the campfire. She was quite surprised they hadn't said anything to her, considering she was standing almost exactly in front of both Harry and Ron, who were seated across from Dean, Seamus, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy, all bundled in blankets and gathered around the fire for its warmth. Strange, she didn't feel cold at all.

"Oh!" she said as she realized what she was seeing, and the fact that nobody seemed to hear her voice confirmed her suspicion. This was a scene from the past. Just like a memory in a Pensieve, these people couldn't see or hear her.

"What is this?" came Snape's voice from behind her. She briefly considered ignoring him, but decided it would accomplish nothing.

"I believe this is the famous camping trip the boys always go on about."

"Of course," Severus said with a snort, moving to stand beside her. "Only a Potter would be stupid enough to organize a camping trip in the Alps during winter."

Hermione barely contained her retort to that.

"I remember hearing about this," Snape went on. "Years ago. What could we possibly have to gain from watching this?"

"How should I know?" she said, then moved closer to better hear what was being said. She'd always been curious about what had happened on this trip. For all that Harry and Ron reminisced about it, she'd never been able to get any details about what had actually gone on . . . .

"Where'd you stash the whisky, Seamus?" Ron was asking.

"It's in my bag," Seamus replied.

"Well, go get it!" Blaise ordered. "I didn't come all this way to stay sober!"

"Hear, hear!"

"All right, all right . . ." Seamus muttered as he stood. "Bunch of lushes you lot are."

Hermione took a seat next to Dean and looked at the faces of her old schoolmates. It didn't take long watching them to notice a distinct pattern between two of them. As the liquor was passed around and the night rolled on, it became increasingly obvious that both Harry and Malfoy were focused on something other than the Firewhisky.

Harry would glance at Malfoy, then look away quickly when Malfoy looked back. His face would flush as he stared at the fire, and then several minutes later, he would look back at Malfoy, who would quickly look away from Harry himself, and the cycle would repeat. Hermione was more than intrigued. She'd known that the two of them had buried the hatchet years ago, but she didn't know there'd ever been anything . . . else.

The conversation became more entertaining as the boys all became more intoxicated, and still Harry and Malfoy took turns staring at each other. A rather revealing drinking game was played, in which Hermione learned more than she had ever wanted to know about Ron's masturbatory habits, and after a while, Seamus said he'd had enough and was ready to call it a night. He was soon followed by Dean, Zabini, and Ron, all retreating to their respective tents.

Harry and Malfoy sat across the fire from each other...now alone together. Both were just drunk enough to stare at the other openly, and Hermione could almost feel the heat of the fire through their eyes.

"'Spose we should head off, too," Harry finally said.

"Harry," Draco said softly, and Hermione didn't know what to make of his tone, "let's play one more round."

Harry flushed again, then nodded shyly, his head tilted down as he met Draco's eyes. "You go first."

"I've never wanted to kiss my enemy." It was apparently a lie because Draco took a sip of his whisky.

Harry did, too, and it seemed to give him courage. "I've never wanted find out what your skin tastes like." He brought the bottle to his mouth, never taking his eyes off of the blond as he moved towards him.

"I've never wanted to feel what's under those baggy clothes you wear."

"I've never wanted to run my fingers through your hair."

Harry sat down and straddled the log Draco was sitting on, and Draco did the same. He shifted toward Harry until their legs were pressed together. "I've done anything as crazy as what I'm about to do."

Hermione felt her mouth drop open as Draco brought Harry's mouth to his and claimed it. She'd been expecting it, but still . . . Actually seeing it was something she could never have prepared for. The incredulous sound from next to her told her that Snape felt the same way.

Harry groaned as Draco slid his hands under his shirt, and as Harry threaded his fingers through Draco's silvery hair, Hermione found she didn't care how surprising it was. It was something she wanted to see, something she wanted Snape to see. It represented something very important, and this room would not have brought them here for no reason.

"I've never wanted to fuck you," Draco whispered against Harry's mouth as his hands worked to unzip Harry's jeans.

"I've never wanted to fuck you either," Harry whispered back as he worked on Draco's zipper as well.

"Now you're a liar."

"So are you."

Draco's reply was a moan as Harry took hold of him, and Harry hissed back as Draco did the same.

"Are we really going to do this?" Harry asked.

"If you stop now, I'll hurt you."

"Fair enough," Harry said with a chuckle, then kissed Draco again.

The rest was a blur of skin and sounds. Hermione could have walked away at any time, but she didn't. In the end it was Draco who took Harry, and Hermione was amazed at how gentle he was...amazed at how these two men with so much between them and behind them, who had despised one another for so long, had found a way around it. They had let it go, put it aside in order to truly see each other and share this together.

She felt a sort of reverence for what she was witnessing, and she hoped that Snape did too.

When it was over, Draco and Harry stayed fastened together for a while, just breathing and smiling. When they finally put their clothes back on and went to bed, Hermione sat in the silence as the fire died down. After a while, a door appeared in the air, and she stood. She turned to her companion as he got to his feet.

"You see, Severus? There aren't any bridges that can't be crossed...only people unwilling to cross them."

SB's Notes: Well, there you have it! I know some of you were a bit disappointed that Harry's lover wasn't Draco, but this way we all still win. I hope you enjoyed it! Ladyinthecloak is up next. Let's see where she goes from here!