Princeps by Lomonaaeren

Chapter 3

Notes:

This part of the series is now going to be 4 parts, as this chapter grew too long.

"Are you all right, sir?"

Harry smiles a little at Severus. The boy's eyes are wide after watching Harry limp down the stairs and into the kitchen. Harry didn't even have a chance to make his own cup of tea. Severus shoved one at him immediately, and Harry sat down with the hot cup and drained it. He's too tired to refuse it after last night.

"Yes, Mr. Prince. I just went through a lot in a short time. Apparating, fighting Voldemort, and rescuing Regulus." Harry leans back in his chair, wincing. All his muscles are contributing to a chorus of protest that makes him think he might not even be able to hear the chimes if Time decided to talk to him now. "Mr. Black told you what happened?"

"Yes. He said you used his magic, sir. Is that something you could do with the rest of us? Could you have been doing it all this time?"

Harry blinks. Severus's eyes are wide and shuttered at the same time. Unusually, Harry can't tell what he's feeling.

"I used it last night because I had to," he says honestly. "Voldemort had brought help to the fight—artifacts of his own that strengthened his power—and I don't think that I could have faced him and escaped the trap without Mr. Black's help. But if you're worried about me draining you dry, you don't need to worry about that, Mr. Prince. It would need both of us to use the oath's link like that. It's not something just one person could do from one side or the other."

Severus turns away from him with a sharp curse and walks to the far side of the dining room.

Okay, Harry thinks, and starts to rise to go after his next cuppa. Severus curses again and hurries over to take the cup, bringing it back full of hot tea and with a plate that has scones and butter on it. Harry grins at him before tearing into it. He's going to need meat, too, as he knows from long experience with this kind of magical exhaustion, but that can wait.

"Of course I'm not worried about that," Severus says, sounding as if he's struggling to control his voice. "I would never worry about that. What I'm worried about is you, sir. You need to call on our magic, if that's possible for you, whenever you need it. Not wait until you're in extremis."

Harry blinks. "Have I given you the impression that I've been in a situation this desperate before, Mr. Prince?"

He makes his tone lightly chiding, but Severus neither cowers nor smiles. "No, sir. But you could have used our help when you fought the duel with—Voldemort last summer."

"I didn't need it," Harry says gently. "I intended all along to do what I did, and Voldemort's arrogance overpowered him, the way it did last night."

"Do you think he'll be that arrogant again?"

Harry has to consider it. He does at least think that Voldemort won't bring Horcruxes to a fight with Harry again, no matter what kind of power they might give him, but that's not the kind of thing he can explain to Severus. "No," he says at last. "But a different kind, yes. It's a flaw as deep in him as his breath. He might take precautions against it, but they'll never be enough, because he'll continue to underestimate me."

Severus leans an elbow on the back of his usual chair instead of sitting down in it. "I never thought to see you overpowered by the same arrogance, sir."

"You think I am?" Harry chews his scone slowly. Good God, he's hungry.

"Yes, because you aren't using all your advantages." Severus's eyes are wide and burning now, and Harry no longer has problems reading them. "Use our magic, sir. Let us stand with you."