Prologue

He sat up slowly, eyes wide and aware as he combed his hand through mussed hair. He ran a hand down his stomach and rested it just above his navel, scratching at it absently as he looked out the window. It was almost midnight. Time to get up.

The hand on his hip stalled him. He looked over his shoulder, eyes warming as he took in the sight of the young man lying on his stomach next to him, head just raised enough to meet his eyes. His lover stared up at him, sleek muscled back gleaming in the soft soft candlelight. He had to smile. Neville had turned into a handsome young man.

"So soon?" was asked, voice dark and calm.

He nodded. "I have to go."

Neville watched his friend dress, admiring the lithe form of the sixteen year old man in front of him for the last time. He had known that it would come to this, one day. No one could control him if he didn't want to be controlled.

He laid a hand on Neville's cheek, smiling when it was kissed. He leaned in for a hug.

"Would you like me to say something to the others?" Neville asked. He frowned in worry when he didn't answer. "They're your best friends Harry."

The Boy Who Lived shook his head, eyes sad. "I've left them something. Don't worry about it."

"Alright," Neville didn't press. It was never worth it.

Harry took one final show of affection, one last kiss from the first person who had shown understanding and discretion. "Thank you."

"Thank you," Neville returned. He frowned again as Harry's eyes dropped. "What? What is it?"

Harry almost fidgeted. "There, there was never a hope for me and my own heart," he murmured, voice tight. "But you could have…I was selfish to…"

"No, Harry," he interrupted, grabbing the strong seeker hands. "We helped each other. I…I won't push myself on Ginny while she moons over Malfoy," he choked on the name. "She's too young. But, you chose me" he smiled, voice tinged with mild awe, "to be your first lover. I'll hold that here," he tapped his chest, "always. If I could help you…in any way…"

"You did Neville," Harry promised him quietly. "If not for you, my misguided heart would have eaten me alive." He couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. Or the sorrow. "I couldnt promise you forever"

"We both knew that from the start," Neville said gently, comfortingly.

"But I can promise you that you were the only one who could have saved me. The only one."

Neville kissed his knuckles. "Your heart is the one thing you can trust, Harry. Follow it."

He ran his finger tips down Neville's face, resting a moment on his full, bruised, adored lips. "Goodbye, Nev."

"Goodbye Harry." He waited until the door to his Prefect room was secure once more before lying down. "He wasn't ready yet Harry. And neither were you. When you return, it'll be time. To face Voldemort, and what you have been hiding from each other since the first day you met."

"Happy twenty-third birthday!" the faculty of Hogwarts cried joyously, throwing gold confetti. The Herbology Professor blushed, but smiled. He kissed his wife's knuckles, grining at Ginny's answering blush. He took his colleagues congratulations with smiles and thanks, sipping pumpkin juice as he made his way around the room.

The youngest Professor on staff, Neville Longbottom had further grown into a confident man, always willing to help others, staff and student alike. Married but a short 11 months, he was still glowing in contentment. Life was great.

Voldemort had quieted over the years, though an unexplained massacre would still mar the peace every so often. No one held delusions though: He was waiting. For what, the younger students often asked. For Harry Potter, The Man Who Disappeared, to return. No one knew where he was or what he was doing, but most still had faith in him. Most still believed he would come back to save everyone.

One man's faith had never wavered.

Severus Snape.

Neville's eyes roamed the faculty lounge, searching. Ah, there he was sitting in a corner talking to Mrs. Hermione Malfoy. He looked the same as he had when Neville had been a student, still pale, hook-nosed and holding a grudge against all who weren't serious enough for his taste. He had grown slightly more bearable since being outed as a spy, but he was pretty much the same man he had always been. He did seem to be a bit more patient with his students though.

"Really Mr. Longbottom, are you trying to make a move on your resident Potions Master?" a dark, rumbling voice breathed in his ear. Neville's eyes widened as he whipped around, heart racing. No one else seemed alarmed in anyway. Was he imagining it?

Then the shadows moved.

His first instinct was to draw his wand. His second was to call for the Headmaster. He followed the latter. "Dumble"

A familiar touch on his cheek halted his words. "Continue with your celebration," he was told. "I will return at a later date."

By the time the Professor turned around, the door was almost completely closed.

Making hasty excuses, he followed the presence out of the room and towards the entrance hall. He got a look at the intruder just as he was opening the main doors. A strong, lithe body was covered in perfectly molded leather armor, his strong arms left bare but for a pair of gold bands clamped over each bicep.

Neville would never know what possessed him to call out to the intruder. "Wait!" But he was glad he did. The man turned and stared at him with familiar eyes. He knew who he was, he was sure of it. But…something was clouding his mind, his memories, making the man unrecognizable. Who was it?

The man smiled at him, and it was as if a spell had been broken. He knew who he was. "Harry…" he breathed.

"I did not want to ruin your party," Harry murmured, bowing his head. "I will return another time." He turned to leave, but Neville would have none of that. He grabbed his shoulders and turned him around to face him. Tears welled up it was really Harry.

"Harry," he kept repeating, grabbing the tall man and burying his face into the long black hair underneath his cheek. "I missed you."

Harry smiled, tentatively returning the embrace. As if it had been a long time since he had allowed himself the simple joy of human contact. He rested a hand on his once-lover's head as he started to shake. "I missed you as well, Neville."

The shorter man pushed him away long enough to look him over with an even more critical eye, now that he knew who he was looking at. "Harry, you're…beautiful." No other way to describe him.

Harry's laughter sounded like the purest of wind chimes. Gentle, calming, strong. Neville had never heard anything more musical. "Careful what you say; I don't want your wife to overhear something that she wouldn't understand."

Neville grinned like a fool. Talking about Ginny always made him do that. "She knows about my…less that straight ways." He leaned in closer and whispered in the other man's ear. "She looks the other way when I'm looking, and I look the other way when she's doing the same."

Harry blinked. "Oh."

Neville suppressed a jovial laughter as he continued to look Harry over. Taller, stronger, more…he was just more than he had been. "Harry, where have you been? It's almost"

"Seven years, hm?" he murmured, looking up at the ceiling. "Where is going to be a difficult story to tell, my friend." For no more than a moment, he looked very tired. Neville felt bad for asking.

"Harry?"

He shook his head. "Not here. Not now." He took out a slip of paper and ran a finger over its middle. Letters flared bright gold before fading back into yellowed parchment paper. "Here. Open it someplace secure." He hugged his friend tightly before gently pushing himself away, slipping the note in the other mans robes as he stepped back. "Till next we meet."

Neville was left staring at shadows.

"Hun?" Ginny walked up beside her husband, looking into his confused eyes. "Nev?"

The Herbologist gave her a gentle smile and a tender kiss. "I'm sorry Gin. You know me and large groups of people…" For some reason, he had no inclination to tell her what had just happened. Something new and deeprooted told him not to.

The redhead nodded in understanding. They reached out together and grabbed hands. "Ready to go back to your birthday celebration? If it becomes too much" she winked at him slyly. "I'll get rid of them, don't worry."

He kissed her again. "Such a loving wife I have."

"Such a giving man I married," she teased back. They returned to the gathering, smiling. Happy. Incident put behind them.

Harry reappeared in the same spot he had been, eyes worried and resigned. The words of his mentor rang through his head, his words edged with scorn. What a foolish student he had been. "You were right Mika. It was foolish of me to rely on the past. I cannot ask this of him…of them." He turned and headed out of the castle through the front entrance. "I will find another way to deal with this...this..." He shook his head and was gone.

In his preoccupied state, Harry never noticed the tall, black robed man watching from behind a suit of armor. Or wondered why that same man had the most peculiar expression of desperation on his face.