Schola Obscura

Chapter III

When Harry awakened, Snape wasn't in the bed, or even in the room. Harry went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and fruitlessly tried to tame his unruly hair, as he did every morning. Back in the room, he removed the magic barrier Snape had cast on the bed, lest the maids should enter to make the bed and be scared by it, and smoothed the covers. Then he went downstairs for breakfast. He had a piece of melon with ham, and was pleased to confirm that the ham of Salamanca deserved its reputation as the best ham in the world. He had also a cup of coffee with a tasty sponge cake.

After finishing breakfast, Harry walked to the lobby. Mr Clavero flashed one of his kindest smiles.

"Good morning, Mr Potter! Mr Snape went out for a walk by the river."

The old man seemed to have read his thoughts. Harry credited that to Mr Clavero's many years of experience with his guests.

"Thank you, Señor Clavero. I'll take a walk outside too."

Harry stepped out, walked around the hotel and then crossed a green lawn to reach the river bank. The sun had just risen, and the clouds on the horizon were coloured in rosy hues. Snape could be glimpsed in the distance, walking by the river towards the inn. Towards Harry. Harry felt a strange trepidation. The wind was blowing, messing up his hair even more. He laughed at the thought that Snape's hair wasn't a model of good behaviour either. When Snape got near enough to see Harry's face, Harry was smiling, and felt stupid for that. "Hello," he said, trying to disguise his embarrassment.

Snape didn't say a word, and kept walking.

"Hey, aren't you going to say hello?"

"What do you want me to say? Should I talk about the weather, the landscape, or other trivialities?" asked Snape, walking on past Harry.

"I don't do small talk either," replied Harry, turning around and hurrying to catch up with Snape. "But this place is really beautiful."

"I just came from the Roman bridge. It's impressive."

"Oh. I'd like to see it too. It must be beautiful, especially at night. What else have you seen on your walk?"

"A few locals decorating their restaurant for the Lunes de Aguas."

"What is this Lunes de Aguas about?'

Snape gave a crooked smile. "This holiday has its origins in a 16th century custom. King Phillip II decreed that the prostitutes who lived in Salamanca had to be ferried across the river to La Salud de Tejares, on the other side of the river, and stay there during the forty days of Lent. On Ash Wednesday, a clerical figure jocosely referred to as "Padre Putas", would take them out of the city. Padre Putas would also assist and take care of the prostitutes until a week after Easter, on the Monday of Quasimodo, when they were allowed to return. They returned in boats decorated with flowers to differentiate them from the normal boats. The students of the University waited for their return at the Roman bridge, with Easter cakes. This day is still celebrated nowadays. People come from all parts of the country to eat the traditional hornazo, a patty stuffed with sausage and boiled eggs."

Harry laughed. "What a story! Padre Putas! How would you translate that into English? Father Whores? Father Pimp Daddy?"

Snape grimaced. "I wouldn't dare try. I was expecting you to ask me about Quasimodo..."

"Okay. I know that Quasimodo is the Hunchback of Notre Dame, of course. But why is there a Monday of Quasimodo?"

"In fact, the Hunchback of Notre Dame was named after the Quasimodo Sunday, which is the first Sunday after Easter, because he was found abandoned on the doorsteps of Notre Dame on that day. The name Quasimodo came from the Latin text of the traditional Introit for this day, which begins 'Quasi modo geniti infantes...' It's from the First Epistle of Peter: 'As newborn babes...'. Literally, quasi modo means 'in the manner of'."

"I'm impressed. You really did your homework."

Snape smirked. They walked in silence for some time. As they approached the inn again, Harry feared Snape might want to get rid of him. "I was planning to visit other places in the city..."

"Do as you please. I will not require your assistance. We have just one appointment tonight, at midnight."

"Yes, but... you're such a good tourist guide. I was wondering if you would like to go with me."

Snape's eyes seemed to pierce into his soul. "You are finally acknowledging some of my virtues!"

As soon as he recovered from his astonishment, Harry controlled the impulse to say Snape didn't have many. It wouldn't be wise to provoke another fight. So he opted for a modest complaint. "You never acknowledged any of mine, either."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "You have a singular talent to irritate me. Very few people can achieve this feat so easily."

Harry couldn't tell if Snape was joking or not, but he laughed, anyway.

They spent the rest of the morning and beginning of the afternoon visiting historical places: the University, the Casa de las Conchas (House of Shells), and the strange Torre del Clavero. As everything closed from 2 to 5 pm because of siesta, they stopped for lunch - nothing terribly expensive, just some tapas* with wine - in the spacious and magnificent Plaza Mayor. It was about 4 pm when they split the bill and went to see the Casa de las Muertes (House of the Dead), with its ominous skulls decorating the facade. Harry amused himself by counting the storks nesting in the bell-tower of the churches, and after 5 pm, when the shops reopened, Snape stopped at every clothing shop to admire the cloaks, especially those with charro buttons**.

In the evening they came back to the inn, exhausted, and decided to have dinner early so that they could have a rest before going back to the Cueva.

It was only at dinner that Snape mentioned the subject Harry had been avoiding for the past 23 hours. "You do realise that we will have to go through some sort of trial in the Cueva, don't you?"

"Yes. Do you have any idea of what kind of trial it might be?"

"I believe we will be tempted. Each of us will be offered a coveted prize... Perhaps the satisfaction of our deepest desire. In exchange of our soul, as those who believe in the Devil would say."

"Like the Mirror of Erised. But... do you believe in the Devil?"

"There are no demons except the ones we create for ourselves. It is inside of us that they will find the weaknesses to tempt us."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I don't know exactly what we will have to face. In any case, the question is, are you prepared to have your heart's desire appear, and... refuse it?"

Harry wondered what his heart's desire was. He wished no one had died because of him. Neither his parents, nor Cedric, nor Sirius, nor Ginny. Especially Ginny, because... her death had been too painful. Yes... He would give everything to have Ginny back.

Snape was staring at him intently. "Are you prepared to meet again those you have lost?"

"You slimy git. You're reading my mind."

"You may not believe me, but I am trying to help you."

Harry didn't know if he was prepared or not. Snape sipped his red wine and flirted with Consuelo, the brunette waitress, and that annoyed Harry even more. Harry tried to calm down. Snape looked calm, but he was probably fighting his inner demons too. Harry drained his glass and poured another.

Half an hour later, they went back to their room, tired and slightly drunk. Harry stretched out diagonally on the bed, taking all the bed space. Then he saw Snape standing at the foot of the bed, and retreated to his side. "Oh, forget those stupid barriers. Just lie down and relax."

Snape took the phone off the hook, dialled and then started to talk in Spanish. From what Harry could understand - he was beginning to learn Spanish! - Snape had asked to be woken up at a quarter to midnight. Snape turned off the phone and took off his cardigan. Then it dawned on Harry that Snape was undressing. In front of him! As matter-of-factly as if he did that every day, Snape unfastened his trousers. Harry's mouth went dry. He sat up on the bed and started to undress too, trying not to look at Snape.

Harry caught a glimpse of Snape in his underpants - the fine swirls of dark hair on his chest, well-defined muscles, broad shoulders and a noticeable bulge in the front of his underpants - before Snape slipped under the covers. Harry took off his glasses, then his jeans and t-shirt.

Finally, Harry lay down and pulled the covers up. The scent and the warmth of Snape's body surrounded him, and Harry almost moaned out loud. He blamed the wine. There couldn't be another explanation. It had to be the wine.

The phone rang and woke Harry from a dream where Snape was kissing him and pressing their bodies together. Half-opening his eyes, Harry saw Snape taking the phone off the hook and groaning something. Terrified, Harry realised his cock was painfully erect under the covers, its tip leaking pre-come. Snape stood up and went to the bathroom. Maybe Snape had had the same dream and was now wanking in the bathroom... That thought was enough to make Harry moan in frustration. He reached down and squeezed his cock in his hand. Then he buried his face into Snape's pillow and breathed that scent that was making him crazy. He pumped his cock harder and came quick and intensely, biting his lip not to cry out.

He cast a cleaning spell, smoothed the sheets and pillows and... everything was back as it was before. Or at least that was what Harry wanted to believe as he put on his trousers, t-shirt and jumper.

Snape emerged from the bathroom already dressed. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Snape opened his side of the wardrobe and produced a green fleece pullover jacket. "Put this on," he said, handing the elegant coat to Harry. "It's cold outside."

Harry remembered he had felt cold the night before. As now they would be going to the Cueva at later hours, it would probably be even colder.

The jacket had the same masculine scent that emanated from Snape. Harry closed his eyes and put it on. When he opened his eyes, Snape was reaching out to adjust the jacket on Harry's shoulders. "The colour matches your eyes," Snape murmured in his deep, velvety voice.

Harry felt his heart race. Something was happening here, and he was afraid to find out what it was.

"It's time to go," said Snape, holding his arm.

They Apparated to the same place as the previous night. Everything looked exactly the same.

Snape released his arm and Harry walked around the courtyard. Suddenly, he glimpsed a hole in the back of the courtyard. He approached it. Snape followed right behind him. It was a stairway leading into the darkness.

Snape brushed him aside. "I will go first."

Harry let him do as he wanted. They started descending the steps. When Snape arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Harry could not see him any more. Harry finished descending the stairs and found himself in a completely dark place. "Snape?"

No reply. A feeling of panic threatened to overwhelm Harry. But then a familiar scent enveloped him, and Harry recognised the flowery smell he associated with Ginny. An image formed before his eyes. It was Ginny, exactly as she had been four years ago: the same amused light in her eyes, the same vivid, flaming red hair.

"Ginny!"

"Harry..."

As when they had first kissed, Ginny ran towards him and threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad you came. Now we'll be together, forever," she whispered in his ear.

Harry knew it was an illusion, and his conscience tormented him. If he allowed himself to be seduced by that illusion, he would become a plaything for other beings whose purpose he didn't even know. But how sweet it was, to have the love of his life in his arms again!

Harry was giving in to his deepest desire when he remembered Snape. He couldn't leave Snape there alone. It had been because of Harry that Snape had embarked on that crazy adventure. What could be Snape's heart's desire? If the two of them succumbed, the Wizarding World would be in danger. No; he had to do the right thing. He couldn't stay there with Ginny. He had to find Snape. However, he wasn't strong enough to send Ginny away.

He pulled Ginny by the hand into the darkness. He kept walking, and concentrated his mind on Snape. He had to find Snape.

As if by magic, when he finally could focus his mind, he found what he wanted. But Snape wasn't alone. He was holding someone in his arms. For a moment, Harry felt jealous of whoever was there. When he could see more clearly, though, he saw that the person in Snape's arms was... himself.

Not believing his eyes, Harry saw Snape kneeling at the feet of the other Harry.

"Forgive me, Harry," said Snape, his voice husky and tremulous.

The other Harry wrapped his arms around Snape's shoulders and gently pulled him up until they were in each other's arms again.

"I forgive you, Severus."

Snape embraced him fiercely, burying his face in the curve of the other Harry's neck.

A lump formed in Harry's throat. He swallowed hard, knowing what he would have to do. He came near Snape and held his arm. "Snape. He's not real. I'm the true Harry. We have to go."

Snape turned his face from the illusory Harry and looked at the real one. "You don't want me. Let me stay here."

"But this is not real. You'll be a puppet in their hands."

"I don't care. My life has no value to anyone. Here I have what I want."

"No! We can't stay here. I'll give up my heart's desire." As soon as Harry spoke these words, Ginny vanished in the air. "I came to take you with me."

"I am not as strong as you are."

Harry held Snape's arm firmly. "Come with me. I'll take you out of here."

Snape gazed at him with a pained look, but held Harry's arm.

Harry side-Apparated Snape back in their room. Snape sunk in the armchair, looking defeated. Harry undressed, put on his pyjamas and lay on his side of the bed. "Come and have a rest. Tomorrow you'll feel better."

Snape slowly took off his shoes, then his clothes. He put on his old nightshirt and lay down.

Harry wanted to hug him and say how sorry he was. He gently touched Snape's shoulder, but Snape brushed his hand off.

"Don't touch me," hissed Snape between clenched teeth.

As Snape caught his wand and cast the barrier between them, Harry felt his eyes stinging. Harry could understand very well what Snape was feeling. Harry had had to give up on his greatest dream that night, but he had done it by choice. For Snape, that must have been a terribly humiliating experience. Harry wished to tell him it wasn't pity that moved him. But Snape would ask him what it was that he felt for him, and... Harry didn't know.

He wished he could tell Snape that he forgave him, just like the Harry of Snape's dreams, but it wasn't true. Harry didn't believe he would ever be able to forgive Snape.