32. SAY IT
Harry nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing over his shoulder and not for the first time wishing Severus was still with him. There was no reason to be afraid, he told himself. He had reached his decision and once he told Sirius about it, it was obvious how Sirius would react. There was nothing to worry about. Severus had told him so and he wished that he could believe him, but he wasn't so sure.
What if Sirius didn't want him anymore? Sure, he had said that he would never leave him willingly and that he would always love him, but what if he saw Harry differently now? After all, he was only a submissive and Sirius was... perfect. He could have anyone, why would he want Harry?
He self-consciously fiddled with his fingers that seemed to be much too thin and long on his much too small hands. He thought of his scrawny body and his diminutive height, his unruly hair, his unmanly features, his slightly rounded hips, his lean muscles that did nothing to conceal the thinness of his body, his too pale skin... Lucius could tell him a thousand times that he was supposed to look like this and Narcissa could tell him just as often that he looked good, beautiful, but he just couldn't believe them. Sometimes, he believed Sirius.
Of course, he had always been small for his age, but he had always had the hope that he was merely a late bloomer and would hit a growth spurt sooner or later. But now it seemed like he would stay this way. And it wasn't only his outward appearance that Sirius might find repulsive. He had pushed him away, had demanded time for himself, had disobeyed him, had doubted him and his word. How could Sirius possibly still want him? His heart ached at the thought. What should he do without his dominant, without his mate? What was he without Sirius? Nothing. That's exactly what he was. Now that he had defeated Voldemort and that almost all the Death Eaters had been rounded up and put to trial there was nothing left for him to do and if Sirius didn't care about him anymore, no one would care what happened to him either. He was useless. A burden. Dependent. Pathetic.
Somehow the words were spoken in Draco's voice and with his sarcasm, his reasoning, his insults. A shiver raced down his spine and a whimper escaped his throat at the thought of the blond even though the young Death Eater had been captured and arrested with most of the other Death Eaters who had survived the Dark Mark's poison. Neither Lucius nor Narcissa had paid him a visit yet or had even acknowledged that they had a son sitting in prison. Harry felt almost bad for his former classmate. No one deserved a lifelong sentence in Azkaban, where Sirius had been held despite his innocence. He shuddered. Sirius hadn't deserved it and maybe Draco had been right. Not about supporting Voldemort and wanting to kill all Muggles, of course, but about how he had treated Harry. Maybe Sirius had realised that as well and wouldn't want him back anymore.
He felt the telltale stinging of tears in his eyes and took a deep breath. He wouldn't start crying now! Fine, he was a submissive elf, but that didn't mean that he was a crybaby! He was still a Gryffindor and he would just have to deal with Sirius' decision. Sirius was his mate and dammit, he wanted to see him again. If only for one moment.
Resolutely, he turned to the suddenly very intimidating door of the Defence classroom and softly rapped his knuckles against the wood. He could sense Sirius behind it. Was he feeling it, too? Maybe he knew Harry was here and didn't want to see him. Harry's shoulders slumped a little, and he had already turned around halfway when the door was suddenly jerked open.
Harry halted, cautiously looking up at the dominant. His dominant. His heart beat a nervous, irregular rhythm like it wasn't quite satisfied with just thumping in Harry's chest, like it wanted to jump into Sirius' hand to show him that it truly belonged to him.
They hovered uncertainly for a moment, staring at each other, before their feelings overwhelmed them and Harry landed in Sirius' arms. Neither of them could have said who acted first and it didn't matter, either. Sirius hands closed around Harry's waist, pulling him flush against his body, while Harry had thrown his arms around the older man's neck, nestling into him and taking a deep breath of Sirius' familiar scent. He was home.
"Are you mine?" Sirius finally whispered in Harry's ear, still holding him close.
"If you want me," Harry whispered back, pressing a bit closer. "Please."
"I'll never let you go again," Sirius promised, grinning down at his small mate. "You won't get rid of me now, not ever."
"Good." Harry sighed in relief, snuggling into him. "I love you."
"Why do you love me, Harry?" Sirius asked, remembering what had caused this whole ordeal.
"Because I do. Because you are perfect and strong and because your smiles make me feel all warm and safe and because I feel stronger myself when I'm with you," Harry answered without hesitation. "Because I could never be angry with you for more than a second, because there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, because... I never had a reason to doubt it. I'm sorry, Sirius. It was just..."
"... too much," Sirius finished for him, smiling lovingly down at him. "You don't have to apologise, beautiful, not for your feelings and not for your doubts about them. Maybe I will understand it one day, but if not, it's just one more thing to increase my fascination for you."
"You forgive me?" Harry asked disbelievingly, brokenly.
"There's nothing to forgive on my part." Sirius grinned at him, for some reason in an inexplicably good mood and suddenly sure that nothing could go wrong anymore, even though Harry was still a bit angsty. "Hush, it's over, okay?" he said softly as he noticed the shivers that wrecked Harry's slim form. "No one will do you harm now. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Can you just hold me?" Harry pleaded, and Sirius enclosed him in his arms again, carefully scooping him up and carrying him inside the classroom, locking the door behind them.
He looked around the room, a bit unsure where to put Harry, but then his eyes lit up as he caught sight of a pile of pillows Remus had most likely used to test the students' shields. He walked over there, gently bedding Harry on the soft cushions before lying down himself and taking him in his arms. Harry snuggled into him, burying his face in the crook of his neck, and Sirius slowly carded his fingers through Harry's unruly black locks.
"I don't remember too much of what happened," Harry finally confessed. "I know what happened, but it feels like something someone told me and not like my own memory, not like I was really there when it happened. I don't know what I felt or if I felt anything at all, except for... I know what happened before you found me in the bathroom, I know what I felt then."
Harry shivered uncontrollably. "The bond told me that I wasn't allowed to hurt you or even just to make you unhappy. I still feel that way now, I don't want you to hurt and I want you to be happy. But I was hurting then because I disobeyed you because I made Remus unhappy with being so nasty to Severus and because I couldn't understand why you stopped all my attempts to please you. And I couldn't tell you or you would have been hurt as well. I felt like I needed to punish myself for my disobedience, but I didn't know how to without making you notice and consequently worry about me. I didn't know what to do and it got worse with every minute.
"The bond was hurting me, it hurt so much, Sirius, and I... I wanted it to stop. I wanted to end the bond: I wanted to end my own pitiful existence... I wanted you to let me go and when it only got worse..." Harry choked on his own tears. "I hated you," he whispered. "That's why I needed time, because I never want to feel like that again, like I have no choice but to love you and I never want to love you so much that I start hating you again. Never again, Sirius."
Harry broke down into sobs, and Sirius helplessly wrapped his arms tighter around the slender young man, not knowing what he could possibly reply to that.
What could he possibly say? Hadn't he felt much the same way? Hadn't he almost hated the new, bond-influenced Harry for replacing the Harry he loved? Maybe he needed to tell Harry just that in order to make him understand that he did nothing wrong and that he hadn't enjoyed Harry's forced obedience, either.
"I didn't like who you were, how you acted," he whispered gently, pressing a kiss into Harry's hair. "I love you, but I couldn't love this faked Harry, even though I tried. I hated you, too."
"Really?" Harry sounded vaguely hopeful, and Sirius' tensions released in a bark-like laugh.
"Really, you don't have to feel bad about it and if you had told me about this immediately, we could have saved both of us a lot of confusion, don't you think?"
"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, blushing lightly, and Sirius chuckled, capturing his hand and brushing a kiss over Harry's knuckles.
"You couldn't have known that. Everything okay again?"
"Yes." Harry tried a tentative smile, once again snuggling closer. "I'm good."
Sirius grinned at him, thinking of something else entirely though he didn't voice his thoughts and instead asked, "And how is this new bond for you? Is it okay for you? Any unpleasant side effects?"
Harry scrunched up his nose a little, thinking about Sirius' question. "Severus did some test," he finally murmured, "to find out how I was affected and he said that everything is how it should be... as far as he knows. I feel pretty normal, in any case. I missed you terribly and I dreamed of you and I also had some nightmares, but now that I'm back with you I feel really safe and content. I feel free."
"Are you afraid?" Sirius asked softly, looking intently at the smaller creature.
"A little." Harry shrugged. "I don't feel too good when you aren't around, but right now it's okay."
"We'll work on that," Sirius assured him. "Maybe you just need more time to get used to the new situation in order to be more sure and confident."
Harry's eyes gleamed with a strange light as he looked up at the veela, and his lips formed a gentle, barely-there smile that held so much love and voluntary devotion that Sirius' breath caught in his throat. He almost shyly pressed their lips together, waiting how Harry would react. Would he push him away? Melt into his touch? Do nothing?
There, Harry's lips parted slightly and what little control Sirius had was lost and he engaged the elf in a demanding and passionate kiss, darting his tongue over Harry's soft lips, the sharp row of his teeth, into the soft warmth of his mouth. His hands went up to cradle Harry's face: His thumbs gently rubbing over his cheekbones and temples while his other fingers snaked into Harry's hair. The silky black strands fell over his fingers, got tangled, untangled as unpredictable as the rest of Harry's body, that moulded itself against his, arched away. Harry mewled and purred, his hands clutching Sirius' shoulder to pull him closer and still closer.
"Please, Sirius, more." He panted, arching into the older wizard. "Want you to... Please."
Sirius froze, more shocked than anything, staring down into Harry's delicate, pale face. "No. No, Harry, I said that we'd do this right and that we would wait until you're ready. That didn't work out: I took your innocence and caused you pain and grief. I won't let myself be carried away once more."
Harry's eyes clouded with hurt before he slowly shut them, seeming resigned and defeated and hopeless. "Okay."
"No, it's not okay, Harry," Sirius pleaded. "You misunderstand me. I will make love to you and it will be as perfect as I can possibly make it for you, but it certainly won't be a spur of the moment thing. Give me time to plan something for you, make it special, please?"
"What if something happens? If you wait too long?" Harry asked softly, and Sirius felt his throat constrict painfully.
"Nothing will happen. Voldemort is dead, his Death Eaters either captured or also dead. Nothing will happen."
Harry's eyes fluttered open once again, and he sent him a look full of disbelief and fear.
"Give me one week," Sirius compromised. "I gave you one week, now you have to give me one as well. That's only fair, don't you think, beautiful?"
"If this is what you want," Harry answered softly, gravely, rolling around and turning his back on the veela, who sighed inaudibly.
"Why do you take this so hard, hm? Don't you know that I love you with all my heart? Why do you need sex to believe me that I'll always be there for you? You can't look forward to it, not after what I did to you, not after what happened afterwards."
"That's exactly the reason," Harry stated, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest.
"What is the reason?" Sirius asked in confusion.
"Because it hurt and I felt like I was dying and I'm afraid that it'll happen again, but I'm even more afraid that you won't want me anymore if I... if I don't want to... if we never do that again. I'm damaged goods and I have to prove to you that I'm still worth it to be your mate."
Sirius blinked, furrowing his brow. "You really think that? Merlin, Harry, how do you get an idea like that? You aren't damaged and you're a person and not only the object of my lust. I don't care if we ever have sex as long as you're happy."
"But I want you to be happy as well," Harry argued. "I haven't done a very good job of it so far."
"You've made me incredibly happy, Harry, we don't have to have sex for that."
"But... you're a creature of love!" Harry protested, furrowing his brow. "Don't you... That book said that you need... you know."
Sirius chuckled. "I need love and you give me more than enough of that, I don't necessarily need a physical manifestation of love, though I do very much enjoy kissing you, beautiful. That'll be enough for me as long as you're still to embarrassed to say the word 'sex'."
"I can say that!" Harry said indignantly.
"I have no doubt about it, tiny," Sirius teased, kissing Harry's nose. "But until you do, I reserve the right to play dumb and misunderstand what you're implying."
"Sex!" Harry snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, and glaring at Sirius when he merely arched an eyebrow. "There, I said it."
"Said what, dear? I have no idea what you want from me," Sirius replied innocently. "Could you maybe repeat your request in a complete sentence?"
Harry's eyes narrowed into slits. "I want to have -"
Sirius silenced him with a kiss, cutting Harry off before they could find out if Harry would really have finished the sentence.
"Unfair," Harry mumbled, but leaned in for another kiss that Sirius granted only too willingly, and when they finally drew back they were both breathless.
"I know," Sirius admitted, still breathing heavily and holding Harry against his body. "But you don't have to prove anything to me, Harry. I don't want you to be my sex slave, I want you to be my mate, my equal, my husband..."
"Your husband?" Harry perked up, and Sirius mentally hit himself over the head.
"I ruined it again, didn't I?" He moaned. "That's no way to make a proposal. Can't you just forget it?"
"Nope." Harry grinned at him. "Now you have to marry me!"
"So you say yes?" Sirius looked hopefully at him, slowly starting to grin as well.
"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his arms around his neck. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Then I guess you will have no objections to me putting this ring on your finger?" Sirius asked softly, reaching into his robe pocket and extracting the small square box, snapping it open.
"Wow." Harry tentatively reached out his hand, but his fingers halted in midair before they quite touched the delicate gold band with emeralds and diamonds all around it. "It's beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you are, but I guess it'll have to do," Sirius murmured, making Harry blush brightly; he carefully took the ring out of its box, slipping it on Harry's finger, and then pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. "I want to marry you, Harry."
"I want to marry you, too," Harry whispered, putting his arms around Sirius' neck. "But I want to finish my last year first. Is that okay for you?"
"I think that's a good idea." Sirius grinned. "I wouldn't want to distract you... too much. And you can take your time, in every respect, okay? No need to rush things."
"Thank you." The elf smiled in relief, putting his head on Sirius' shoulder. "I'd like that. Take it slow, enjoy every second."
"We'll do that," Sirius assured him, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You're in control, Harry."
"But... You're in control as well, aren't you?" Harry asked timidly.
"Yes, beautiful, I'm in control as well." Sirius beamed at him. "But if I want to do something you don't agree with, tell me, and we'll do something else."
"But you have to tell me, too," Harry insisted stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to know if you don't like me doing something."
Sirius brushed a gentle kiss over Harry's cheek. "Don't you have enough people already who tell you what to do?"
"But they have no damn right to, you do," Harry retorted. "And the war is over so they can all butt out of our life... Right?"
The veela laughed, pecking Harry's nose. "Right. We'll tell them at the very next opportunity."
"Good." Harry nodded before resting his head against Sirius' chest. "And afterwards you can tell me what you want."
"Hm, I can think of some things," Sirius murmured suggestively and turned to nibble on Harry's earlobe. "And they all involve you and me and not much else."
"Sounds like it could be fun," Harry replied with a smirk. But the feast is still going on, and they'll worry if we don't show ourselves some time."
"Okay," Sirius agreed, starting to straighten Harry's clothes and vainly trying to bring some order into his hair; finally he gave up, frustrated. "Do you know that this is a hopeless case? Just like Jamie's hair."
"Mhm, I know," Harry mumbled, much too occupied with enjoying the sensation of Sirius' fingers running through his hair to really listen to his words, much less to come up with a better reply.
Sirius chuckled, drawing back and adjusting his own clothes before he offered Harry his arm. "Let's crash this party!"