Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

London was miserable and cold when Harry arrived at his flat in Diagon Alley. The weather complimented his bleak mood. He’d anticipated the usual feeling of gloom when he returned from the chalet, but he’d not quite expected the crushing feeling like a tight belt around his chest, that had grown increasingly tighter since leaving bed this morning. His thoughts alternated between plotting tomorrow’s discussion with Ginny, and strategising his next move regarding Severus. Summer was a lifetime away and Severus’ whispered admission that still tingled against Harry’s lips fed his determination not to let this go.

He found the door unlocked and proceeded cautiously inside, wand drawn. His stomach dropped suddenly at the sight of Ginny, who stood to greet him. After a moment of terror, he mustered up enough voice to say, “Hey. I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.” He pocketed his wand and shrugged out of his overcoat.

Ginny looked at him warily, her face uncharacteristically pale beneath the spattering of freckles.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“We need to talk,” she said quietly.

That was his line, he thought. Delivered in much the same grave tone of voice he’d thought to use. He blinked as a cautious sort of relief crept through him. It could be a mutual decision. She was going to leave him. “I wanted to talk to you, too,” he said carefully. No hard feelings. Just a logical end.

She looked at him fearfully. “I’ll make some tea,” she said quickly before rushing into the kitchen. Harry followed, seating himself at the breakfast bar. His heart pounded in his chest, pumping him full of renewed optimism. Was it possible that it would be so easy? He dared to hope. He watched her prepare the mugs, and and smiled when she set one in front of him. His hands curled around its warmth. For a moment, the silence was tense. Harry decided to ease it by going first.

“Ginny. I don’t know how to say this –“

“Harry, I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

Harry’s mouth hung open mid-sentence. “Sorry?” he said, sure he hadn’t heard correctly. His blood ran cold and his stomach leapt up to lodge itself in his throat.

“About six weeks,” she said quietly, studying his reaction.

The world fell out from under him. This couldn’t happen. Not now. He’d finally made a decision! Shock and anger waged war within him. “How?” he croaked. “I thought you were taking something?”

“I may have forgotten,” she said, her face going red from her admission.

“Forgotten?” Harry exclaimed in disbelief. “For fuck’s sake, Ginny!”

Her expression went from wary to angry in an instant. “I’m under a lot of pressure, you know!” she shouted back, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t always remember. I didn’t think I’d get pregnant!”

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that his freedom, just a conversation away, had now escaped him completely. She didn’t think she’d get pregnant? “Are you fucking joking? You’re a Weasley. You’re like the most fertile people on the planet!” Some reasonable part of him knew he was not taking this news as he should. That part of him watched anxiously from between parted fingers in the corner of his mind. “How could you do this?”

“Well I didn’t exactly do it on my own, you know!” she shouted indignantly.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pausing to grab a handful before beginning to pace. “No,” he cried at no one in particular. “God, Gin, you can’t do this!” he said desperately.

“Seriously?” Ginny shouted. “I don’t know what your problem is. I’m the one who has to change her entire life. My career. I have to give up flying, Harry. I-I can’t even drink coffee!” Tears fell over the angry red of her cheeks.

Harry was unmoved by them, and seized by an irrational anger that he directed at the only person in the room. “Coffee?” he snorted incredulously. “Fucking hell.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Is it even mine?” he asked viciously.

The question was ill-advised and followed by a mortal silence.

“Take that back,” Ginny said dangerously, pulling her wand.

“Or what? You’ll hex me?” Harry goaded. “Fucking do it!”

The two stood staring at each other, breathing raggedly and simmering in respective outrage. Ginny was the first to crack a smile, her lips twisting at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Harry broke just after, laughing at his own foolishness. It was the desperate sort of laugh of one grasping for control of chaos.

“Is it yours?” Ginny mocked in disbelief.

Harry rubbed his scar. “Bit desperate, eh?” He gave her a sheepish smile before walking around the counter and pulling her into his arms. He buried his nose in her hair. She pressed her forehead into his shoulder. “We could... do something about it,” she said quietly.

Something. But not that. “We’ll work it out,” he said, choking on his own words and closing his eyes against a stinging sensation. After a moment, he laid a kiss on her cheek. “A new adventure, right?” he said, trying to muster up some semblance of optimism and falling miserably flat.

Ginny let out a great sob against his chest. Harry tightened his embrace and let her cry for the both of them. He felt dazed and flooded with a cold, fatalistic resignation. He stroked her back, reassuring her that it would be all right. They would be fine.

At length, Ginny sniffed wetly and pulled back. Her eyes were red and puffy. He kissed her forehead. “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, looking at him warily.

Harry shook his head. “It’ll keep,” he croaked, trying to give her a reassuring smile. The effort made his face ache.

“You were going to leave me, weren’t you?” Her expression was miserable, but not accusatory.

Harry sighed. “Don’t be stupid,” he said.

She gave him a doubtful look before taking his hand to lead him back to their tea. “You’re a terrible liar, Potter,” she said, lifting her cup to her lips.

Harry snorted. “I happen to be a very good liar,” he informed her indignantly. He added a smile too weak to reach his eyes. He took a deep breath and opted for the truth. Part of the truth. “Something happened over the holiday.”

Ginny’s gaze hardened. “What?” she said coldly.

Harry bit at the inside of his mouth. This conversation could go badly if he wasn’t careful. Had he overestimated her openness? It had never been tested. Maybe her rules didn’t apply to him. The thought annoyed him. “There was this bloke,” he said cautiously.

Ginny’s eyes widened with surprise. An instant later he saw a glint of naughty excitement that he associated with all of Ginny’s darker fantasies. “A bloke?” she said on an astonished breath.

Harry nodded to confirm her bigger question. She gave a delighted laugh and Harry released a relieved breath. “I was a little pissed,” he said, which was initially true.

“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed. “Wait... you’re not going to go all queer on me.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not likely,” he said. He didn’t think of himself as queer. Or straight. He was simply sexual... generally speaking.

“So, you didn’t like it?” Her disappointment was slightly puzzling.

“It was...” Enlightening. Mindblowing. Paradigm shifting. “All right,” he answered lamely. “Painful,” he elaborated.

She grinned excitedly. “So you... all the way? Bloody hell,” she said again.

Harry laughed.

“Come on, Potter. If you’re going to cheat on me at least have the decency to give me the gory details.” She sipped her tea and looked at him expectantly.

Harry was in the process of editing the chain of events. “Well, I had a pretty bad fall skiing. And this bloke was some sort of a healer. He sorted me out.” He knew that wasn’t likely to satisfy her curiosity, but it was a good start.

She gave him a wicked grin. “And?”

“I met up with him on New Year’s. And then... went home with him?” Harry gave a shy shrug.

“What was he like?”

A picture of Severus popped into his head and his heart gave a sad lurch. “Tall. Longish dark hair. Slim. Older. He looks, dunno 40-ish. Big nose.” He smiled.

Ginny held up a hand and began to giggle. “Right,” she laughed, squeezing her eyes shut. “Now I’m picturing you getting buggered by Snape.”

Harry laughed along. He was picturing the same thing. “I’m not yet twisted enough to get into necrophilia,” he said dryly. “But now I think about it, there was some resemblance. Minus the grease and general loathing.”

Ginny poked him. “Always knew you had a thing for him,” she teased.

Harry grunted humourlessly. The only thing laughable about her statement was the tense.

“And so, you and this Professor Snape lookalike...”

Harry rolled his eyes heavenward. “God, Gin,” he laughed. “We went back to his and well, did it.”

“Did you suck him off?” she asked, biting her lip.

Harry nodded, lips curling in to a pleased smile. He knew about her fantasies in that regards and felt pleased to share his excitement with her. She taught him everything he knew, after all.

“And you told him you were straight?”

“Yeah. He was pretty surprised I intended to tell you about the whole affair. I had to explain you’re a pervert.” He grinned and knocked his knee against hers playfully.

“You have to show me,” she said excitedly.

Harry’s mouth dropped open in panic. “What?”

“Let me watch the memory,” she pleaded.

Harry shook his head. “No,” he said firmly for good measure.

She pouted at him. “Why?”

“Not this time. If it ever happens again, I promise you can see.” As it now wasn’t very likely, it was a fairly empty promise.

She raised an eyebrow. “Planning to make it a habit?”

Harry sighed. “No,” he admitted and then became indignant. “You’re one to talk, anyway,” he said. “Care to show me what you and Gwynn get up to on tour?”

Ginny pressed her lips together, recognising the source of many arguments. “Fair enough,” she said at last. “But if there is a next time, I want to be there.”

Harry gave her a doubtful look. “Yeah, because threesomes work out so well for us,” he said dryly.

Her eyes glimmered as bright as a child’s on Christmas. “I’ll just watch,” she promised.

“That should go over well,” Harry said with a dry laugh. “Oi mate, would you mind bending me over a table while my pregnant wife looks on?”

Ginny’s face fell. “I’m going to be fat,” she said, suddenly miserable.

Harry kicked himself for being insensitive. “You’ll be beautiful,” he told her. “And besides, it won’t likely happen again anyway. We’re going to have a family, Gin. We have to be more... careful.” He stroked her hair and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. “What about you? Think you can give up your lesbian ways?” He smiled at her teasingly.

She narrowed her eyes and smiled wickedly. “There’s always Polyjuice.”

Harry gave her a dark look, unwilling to follow that train of thought. “You’re a piece of work Ms Weasley,” he said fondly.

“That’s why you love me, Mr Potter,” she laughed. Harry supposed she was right about that.

-o-o-

At the sight of the Queen’s head on the letter, Severus’ heart beat a little faster. He closed his post box and, post in hand, walked the block and a half to his office. He greeted his shop assistant, who was busy setting up the till for the day’s business. A look at his appointment book informed him that he had the next hour free before Mrs Sumner came in for her weekly adjustment. “I’ll just be in the garden,” he told the dark-haired girl, who was studded with various bits of metal. She nodded, her lips moving as she kept count.

The small garden behind the shop was filled with three small greenhouses that flourished in the near ever-present sunlight. The air was brisk and cold on the late January morning, but there had been no snow lately.

Severus huddled in his black overcoat, his fingerless gloves providing little protection against the cold. He took out a penknife to carefully open what he was sure to be a sentiment-riddled letter from his old friend, turned lover. Admittedly, he had been anxiously awaiting this letter, curious to know how things had gone with the break up, and slightly concerned over the potential fallout. It was only natural for him to be worried, he reasoned. He had grown to care for the other man out of simple bad habit. He’d been doing it for more years than he cared to remember.

His own homecoming had been rather uneventful. The gaggle of women, or the Coven, as he affectionately named them, seemed to think he’d had some secret love affair. Despite that Severus had displayed no outward signs of change and had remained resolutely mute in regards to his holidays. He regretted his moment of indiscretion when he’d described a meeting with an old friend as being ‘interesting’. On the bright side, they’d suspended their incessant efforts at matchmaking for the time being.

Severus’ lips curled fondly at the sight of the man’s tight scrawling handwriting.

Dear you,

I remember when I came to you after the war, without any idea of what I should do next. You gave me a piece of advice that I’ve since adopted as my own personal philosophy on life. You told me that if I simply carried on going through the motions that fate would eventually nudge me on the right path.

Ginny was there when I got home. She said that we needed to talk in much the same tone I had planned to use on her. For a few blissful moments, I believed that all my problems had worked themselves out. If she dumped me, I would be absolutely blameless. The Weasleys couldn’t fault me. Ron couldn’t hate me. It would be a mutual decision based on good sense.

And then fate stepped in to nudge me properly.

She’s pregnant.

Severus blinked. The letter went on, but Severus’ eyes were caught on those two words. He tried to suppress the feeling of disappointment that invaded him, speaking of expectations he’d refused to acknowledge. The feeling grew larger and became an inexplicable feeling of loss. Loss of what? Some part of him that had known better than to hope sneered at him from the corner of his conscience. Severus tried to will his eyes onward. He caught flashes of “I’m sorry” and “don’t know what to do” but found he couldn’t string the words together into anything coherent.

Severus let the letter fall to the ground and, in a fit of bitterness, set it on fire. It changed nothing, he told himself firmly. It had only ever been sex, after all. He’d made that clear. And thank the gods for small favours, anyway. Had the wretched man succeeded in ending his relationship, he’d have only endangered the peaceful existence Severus had created for himself.

Severus stowed away his wand and hugged himself against the cold. He watched the parchment burn to ash. He silently cursed the stupid brat for making him think he was anything but supremely satisfied with his lot.

-o-o-

As Harry exited the Flooport in Denver, Colorado, he spared a thought to feel thankful that Severus agreed to travel at all. The hassle surrounding identity checks and the anti-terrorist absurdity was enough to drive any good Wizard to Dark Magic. Harry had never been so grateful for his celebrity, although he had to admit to being mildly surprised and slightly embarrassed that it extended across the pond.

What brought him to Denver, the man had asked. “Paranoia,” he might have responded. “Heartache,” would have been equally appropriate. “Abject fear” would also have worked. “A quick social call,” he answered, giving his most winning smile. “I’m getting married in two days,” he added.

“Last night of freedom, huh?” The man gave him a smile and a knowing wink that made Harry’s flesh crawl. “Just keep it clean, son,” the man said, returning his wand.

Harry made his way to the information desk to get the Apparation coordinates for Boulder. A few seconds later, he found himself in a small alley that led onto a cobbled street, teeming with Muggles. At least, Harry thought they were Muggles. They didn’t have that eccentric look of Wizards and Witches. But maybe Americans were just different.

Harry looked up and down the street, going through what he knew about Severus’ life. He owned a New Age shop-slash-Naturopathy clinic. He had a post box, so at worse, Harry could stake out the post office. There was bound to be a telephone book somewhere, although he wasn’t sure if Severus would have a telephone. Of course, the man was a master spy, and not having a telephone might bring uninvited attention. Harry knew Severus had a flat above his shop.

He walked a bit, surveying the main street carefully for any signs that would hint at something New Age-ish. He stopped in front of a place called Herbs and Arts. It sounded promising. A small bell chimed as he entered the sweet fog of incense that reminded him of Trelawney. The woman who greeted him was middle-aged and round, with long ,greying hair and a flowing tunic that looked like a diaphanous tent.

“Good morning,” Harry greeted. He looked around and decided that the shop was far too decorated to be Severus’. “You wouldn’t happen to have a telephone book I could borrow?” he asked.

“You’re English,” the woman said with a delighted smile.

Harry grinned back at her. “Yeah,” he said. He watched as she pulled a ridiculously thick book from under the counter. “Cheers,” he said. He opened the book to the esses and searched for “Snape,” before realising his error. He flipped back to the P’s and looked through the twenty or so Princes before realising that the man he was looking for wasn’t in there. He turned to the yellow page section of the book and searched for Naturopaths. The woman watched him from a polite distance.

When it was clear that his search was fruitless, he closed the book with a heavy thud. He gave the woman a small smile of thanks.

“Anything I can help with?” she asked cheerfully.

It was worth a shot. Harry remembered Severus saying something about the group of women he was acquainted with. And the shop owner might have some idea about her competition. “I’m looking for a friend who may have an office or shop around here. Hadrian Prince,” Harry said.

A flicker of recognition or maybe confirmed suspicion flashed through the older woman’s eyes. Harry felt certain she knew Severus. He couldn’t say if the woman particularly cared for him or not.

“And your friend didn’t leave an address?” she asked carefully.

Harry shook his head. “I only have a post box for him,” he said regretfully. “He doesn’t know I’m coming.” His hand slid into his pocket to finger his wand. He wasn’t above getting the information by magical means, but he didn’t like to think of the consequences that might have. He had no jurisdiction here and he wasn’t sure how carefully wand use was monitored. Best not, he thought, sliding his hand out of his pocket.

“Thank you for your help,” he said, stepping away from the counter, pausing to finger a piece of rose quartz.

“If you were his friend, you’d know Hadrian doesn’t like surprises,” the woman said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Harry turned to her and grinned. “I know,” he said. “But sometimes it’s the only way to get his attention.”

The woman was trying to make her mind up. “I’m Mary,” she offered.

“Harry,” he responded. He belatedly wondered if he should have used a pseudonym, but it was too late.

“I thought you might be,” she said with a warm smile.

Harry blinked and Mary laughed at his dumbfounded expression. “We’ve heard about you.”

“We?”

“The book club,” she explained.

“Book club,” Harry said, puzzled. He didn’t remember hearing anything about a book club.

“Well, we’re more of a drinking club, but we do some reading.” She gave a big and hearty laugh that Harry couldn’t help but smile at. It was the sort of laugh that would infect anyone within earshot.

“I’m not certain I want to know what you’ve heard,” he said sheepishly.

Mary shook her head to dismiss his worries. “Precious little, darling. Getting information out of your friend is like getting milk out of a crystal.” She gave a shout of laughter at her own joke. Harry laughed nervously.

“Yeah,” Harry said sympathetically. “I know all about that.”

“You were his student?” Mary asked, eyeing him for confirmation.

Harry nodded. “Ages ago,” he said.

“He mentioned that he met with you during his vacation,” she said. Harry got the impression that the woman was eager to find out any small bit of information she could. Harry was equally determined not to give anything at all, but he could sympathise with her attempt. He was rather eager to know what the people in this new life thought about Severus.

“We don’t see each other often,” Harry said. He fought off the swell of self-pity that threatened to flood in every time he thought of their time together. And his present situation. “I really need to see him,” he insisted.

“I guess you do, sweetheart,” she said and then tightened her lips. “But I’m very fond of Hadrian and while I don’t know a lot about the man’s life before he landed here, I know enough to know that he doesn’t want to be found. So you understand my dilemma.” She gazed at him steadily.

Harry offered a helpless expression, summoning every ounce of the desperation he felt to infuse it in his plea for help. “He’s a private man,” Harry began. “I am the only person he keeps in touch with. I won’t tell you he’ll be pleased to see me. I imagine he’ll be quite irritated, actually. But I have to see him. I’ve come all this way,” he finished. He gave her a pleading look.

Mary looked at him indecisively. “All right. Here’s what I’ll do. See the coffee shop across the road? You’ll go there and wait. I’ll give him a call. If he wants to see you, he’ll show up. If he doesn’t... I can’t help you. Does that work?”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, although a lingering doubt remained. What if Severus didn’t show? He supposed it would be an answer one way or another. “Thank you,” he said with a smile. He turned to go to his designated place in purgatory.

“Harry?”

He twisted around to see her, eyebrows raised.

“When he came back from vacation with you... None of us had ever seen the man happy before. A few weeks later he was as low as he’d ever been. I have an inkling that you’re the cause of both.”

Harry lowered his eyes. He hadn’t realised that he could be made to feel even worse than he did.

“Are you here to make things right?” she asked with a severe look that reminded Harry a bit of the one Mrs Weasley used to reserve for the Twins.

Harry took a deep breath. “As right as they can be,” he murmured miserably. He didn’t wait for a response before pushing through the door, feeling for all the world like he’d just been stunned. The significance of the meddling woman’s words had hit him solidly in the gut. He’d spent months mired in self-pity, cursing his bitter fate and his utter stupidity for not having ended his relationship years ago when things started to go badly. When he hadn’t heard back from Severus, he’d understood that the older man would have been angry at Harry for fucking up so badly. He thought Severus might even be disappointed that the summer wouldn’t quite bring the holiday they had planned. He never believed that Severus would have an emotional reaction to the news.

Perhaps the woman was just misreading him. Severus was broody by nature.

Harry ordered a tea and then sat in the corner to wait. This was not precisely how he’d planned this meeting would go. In his mind, he found the man easily, as though by instinct. He made an appointment to see him professionally and then surprised him. He imagined Severus would be too taken aback to be immediately angry. And in that lull, Harry would do what he could to make amends. Ask why the man hadn’t responded to his letter. Try and explain that while everything had changed, nothing had changed fundamentally. Harry still needed this contact. Somewhere along the line, the mission had become muddled and Severus had become Harry’s bridge. Bridge to what, Harry didn’t know. But he counted on the man, and needed him in his life.

Selfish, he realised, but desperately true.

After an hour, Harry began to worry. He looked across the road to the shop and wondered if Mary had managed to reach Severus. And if she had... he might have an appointment, Harry thought to himself. A booking. Or maybe he really didn’t want to see Harry. Maybe he was disgusted with the whole situation... or hurt. The last thought made Harry feel slightly nauseated.

The cafe began filling with people on their lunch break. Harry sat awkwardly cradling a cold half-filled mug of crap tea, staring into it as though it might reveal all the answers he sought. He’d give the man another half hour, he decided. Then he’d leave word with the woman over the road and go back to Britain. To his future. For better or for worse.

He looked up as the chair across from him slid backward. The man gave him a thunderous look, but Harry was too relieved to pay much mind. “Oh, thank fuck,” he exhaled, putting his head in his hand and remembering how to breathe like a normal person again. When he finally looked back up, the man’s expression hadn’t changed.

“Hi,” he said with an awkward smile. Severus raised an expectant eyebrow. “Sorry?” he offered.

“Is that what you came here to tell me?” Severus hissed.

“You didn’t answer my letter,” Harry explained. “I was worried.”

Severus raised his eyes to the ceiling, as though appealing to a higher power for strength. “Was that the first time your letters went unanswered?” That voice that Harry had grown to love was now as cold and heartless as he remembered from his school years.

“No,” he admitted. He wrinkled his nose.

Severus nodded. “No,” he echoed. “And the last time I failed to answer your letters immediately, did you fly across the globe to ask why?”

“No,” Harry sighed.

“No.”

“Sev—“ Harry was stopped by a death glare. He pressed his lips together. “Could we go someplace else?” he asked.

Severus seemed to weigh his options before standing and stalking out the cafe. Harry hurried to catch up and found Severus waiting for him outside. Harry’s eyes scanned the shop in front. He thought he could just make out Mary, watching them from her shop counter.

“That’s some guard dog you have there,” Harry said, trying desperately to lighten the mood. He’d known Severus wouldn’t be thrilled to see him. Still, he’d hoped.

“What part of keeping a low profile do you not understand?” Severus growled.

“She knew you anyway. I don’t see the harm – you have a bloody shop!” Harry pointed out as he struggled to keep up with Severus’ long stride.

“And now the bloody lot of them are on their phones, imparting to one another the latest bit of gossip. I’ve worked years to suppress their curiosity and now – “ His face suddenly went from irritated to irate. “You’re not even wearing a glamour?”

Severus suddenly veered down a very narrow alley at the end of which was a little shop with the smallest of signs bolted to the wall. It said, "Prince, Naturopath and Herbalist." Severus flung open the door and waved Harry inside.

The shop was sparsely decorated, but cosy. Rows and rows of mixed, dried herbs lined the walls. Small phials of tinctures and essences stood on sturdy wooden book shelves. The room was narrow, but long, stretching back to two doors at the end. From behind the counter a woman, a bit younger than Harry, peered curiously at him from over a till. She looked from one man to the other and clicked the metal ball in her tongue against her teeth.

“Theda, I need you to ring Mr Gentry and reschedule our appointment. Susan will be by this afternoon to drop off the CDs. Pay her from the till, but don’t forget the receipt.” He frowned as the girl’s attention remained steadfastly trained on Harry. Harry offered an awkward smile.

She didn’t smile back. She shifted her gaze instead toward Severus and lifted her brows expectantly. The man gave an exasperated sigh. “Theda-Harry. I’ll be back down to close,” he said abruptly before walking the length of the room toward the doors at the end. He opened the door on the right, which led to a stairwell.

“Pleased to meet you,” Harry said as he followed the man.

“Have a good day,” the girl said with an ironic smile.

“Cheers,” Harry muttered under his breath and then brushed past Severus, successfully not touching him any more than was strictly necessary. Severus waved Harry up the stairs, and then pushed past him to unlock another door, beyond which was a relatively spacious and Spartan studio flat. It was sparsely furnished with old but sturdy-looking furniture. A double bed was tucked in a corner clad in Slytherin green. Books lined the walls and were stacked on virtually every level surface of the flat. Three windows stretched along the front and looked out on the alley they’d just left, offering little by way of light.

Severus rounded on him as Harry shut the door. He leant back against it as the man treated him with a glare, the likes of which he hadn’t seen in years. It wasn’t the expression of an accommodating host. Harry gave an irritable sigh. “For fuck’s sake, Severus. I’m not here to ruin your life,” he said angrily. “So you can stop looking at me like that. If you’d have told me where you lived in the first place, I’d have come straight here.”

“You should have told me you were coming,” Severus shouted back at him.

“Why? So you could tell me not to?” Harry argued.

Severus gave an unpleasant smile. “No. You wouldn’t want to take into consideration my feelings on the subject.”

Harry deflated under the realisation that Severus had feelings on the subject. More than he’d led Harry to believe. “There wasn’t time,” he explained. “I waited for months to hear from you.”

“I’ve been busy,” Severus explained slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know you find this hard to believe, Potter, but the world does not revolve around you.”

“Don’t,” Harry said quietly.

“Don’t what?” Severus snapped.

“Don’t do that. What you’re doing. If you’re pissed off at me, I can accept that, but don’t pretend I don’t fucking matter.”

Severus narrowed his eyes and sneered. Harry braced himself for something hurtful. “You don’t fucking matter,” Severus said. “Did you really believe that two days of-“

“I’m sorry,” Harry said firmly. “You know I didn’t plan for things to turn out this way.”

Severus pressed his lips together and then gave a disgusted snort. “Why do you think I care?”

“Because you’re trying very hard to convince me you don’t,” Harry pointed out. He stepped forward away from the door. “You know this wasn’t how I wanted things to be.”

“Did you ever hear of a thing called birth control?” Severus spat. Harry could see his jaw clench under the pale skin.

Harry blinked. “Did you even read my letter?”

Severus averted his gaze. “I read enough,” he said evasively.

Harry gave a hopeless laugh and rubbed his forehead. “God, you’re a prat,” he sighed and shook his head. He eyed an old sofa against the far wall and decided to invite himself in. “She forgot to take it,” he explained. He looked over. Severus had his head bent forward, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sit with me, Severus. Please.”

Severus met his pleading gaze, looking for all the world like he wanted to refuse, but couldn’t work out how. A moment later he stalked forward and sank next to Harry with a deep sigh. “The part that irritates me most is that I have neither right nor reason to be irritated with you,” he admitted dully.

“If it’s any consolation, I feel as though Christmas has been definitively cancelled,” Harry offered, letting his legs relax open to press against Severus’. “I’m supposed to be happy about this, right?”

“Coming here will do nothing to help that,” Severus muttered in a low, weary voice. It was as though he didn’t have any energy left to be angry. Harry took a moment to survey the man, noting the dark shadows under his eyes and the deep frown lines around his mouth. He looked as miserable as Harry felt.

Harry felt sick to think that he was the cause of the change in the man. “I can’t lose you, Severus,” Harry said. It wasn’t desperation that drove him to those words. It was a simple matter of fact. He couldn’t continue to do what had to be done if it meant losing the only person in the world who understood how badly it wrecked him. It was a small thing, but just knowing Severus was out there made the whole idea of his existence slightly easier to bear.

Severus rolled his head along the back of the sofa to look at him. The intensity of his gaze was gone, replaced by an uncharacteristic dullness that made Harry’s heart go cold. His stomach swirled with fear at all the possible responses to his admission. When nothing was forthcoming, he offered a half smile and said wryly, “I had the best sex of my life, Severus. Please don’t make me regret it.”

Severus snorted and looked away.

“If it means you’re going to hate me now, it wasn’t worth it,” Harry continued. “I need you,” Harry said, his voice fading as his throat closed.

“My life was peaceful. And you came along and showed me how empty that peace was,” Severus said in a flat voice. “You ruin me, Harry.”

Harry looked at the man dumbly. Pain shot through his chest, stifling any response he could give. “I’m sorry,” he breathed uselessly. What else could he say? He would change it all in a second if he could, but this was something he couldn’t run away from.

“Don’t be,” Severus sighed. “I take full responsibility for my own foolishness.”

Harry couldn’t say what hurt worse: that he had inadvertently ruined the man’s life, or that Severus considered it foolish to care for Harry at all. Harry let his head sink backward and covered his face with his hands. “This is so fucked up,” he complained aloud.

Severus grunted in agreement. “It always has been between you and me,” Severus said with dark amusement. “There’s something to be said for consistency.” He reached over and patted Harry’s leg, his hand coming to rest there. After a moment, Harry’s own hand covered it, trapping it.

“When is she due?” Severus asked quietly.

“August,” Harry answered.

“And the wedding.”

Harry swallowed. “Saturday,” he answered, despair coming up to strangle him again.

Severus looked over in surprise. “Cutting things a bit short, aren’t you?

Harry shrugged. “I had to see you.” He squeezed Severus’ hand and then brought it to his lips, inhaling sharply. “I’m selfish, Severus. I know you prefer I just disappear, but I... Just can’t.” He couldn’t let go and he couldn’t quite explain why.

Severus brought their joint hands to his own lips. “I don’t,” he said. Harry thought it sounded like he really wished he did. “But what I prefer isn’t possible. It was foolish to pretend otherwise.”

Harry leant over to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder. “I have something I have to do for the next twenty years or so,” he said. “But after that, we’re running away.” He tried for a laugh, but it choked out of him like a dry sob.

Severus snorted. “You presume I’ll be available,” he pointed out, doing a good impression of his normal wry voice, but without the humour to back it up.

Harry grunted. “A man can hope,” he said. “Until then, you’ll just have to put up with my inane newsletters. And I’ll content myself with your terse replies.” That had to be enough, he knew, although part of him would always ache for more. Part of him would always wonder what would happen if...

“I’d have come here anyway,” Harry admitted after a moment of silence. “I wouldn’t have been able to wait until summer.”

“I know,” Severus said, leaning his head over to rest on Harry’s. “I expected it.”

Harry smiled. “Am I that predictable?”

“If there’s one thing I can count on, Mr Potter, is that you will invariably break all the rules,” Severus said in a tone that seamlessly mixed exasperation and fondness. “When are you leaving?”

“I have to go tomorrow morning. Ron has this whole ... thing ... planned.” The prospect exhausted him. He would have to pretend to be festive, pretend that his entire existence was not on the edge of crumbling. It made him want into curl into a ball and sleep through the next twenty years. He was supposed to be happy, and he couldn’t manage to feel anything but doomed.

“Hungry?” Severus asked, his hospitality kicking in belatedly.

Harry shook his head. “I feel sick,” he said. “And knackered.”

“You could sleep if you’d like.”

Harry laughed. “I’ve got twenty years to sleep.”

“Shall I show you around then?”

Given the man's erstwhile anger, the offer was surprising. Harry looked over with a puzzled smile. “All right.”

And so Severus did, but not before teaching Harry his much coveted cloaking spell which would allow Harry to go unnoticed and unrecognised through the streets of the city.

The tour of the studio was very brief, the only other room being the bathroom that could be magically modified to contain a giant bathtub to feed Severus’ hedonistic impulses. Severus’ small garden and green houses likewise took advantage of wizarding space and contained a mix of standard herbs and plants with magical plants hidden between. Severus told him that he had the honour of being the only person to have seen them. Harry grinned to be so privileged. His office and examination rooms were everything Harry had imagined them to be, complete with a table not unlike the one he’d transfigured in the chalet.

They went back to the shop to check on Theda, who was busy showing a customer through the different herbal remedies available to treat arthritis. Contrary to the sullen and sarcastic demeanour with which she’d greeted Harry, the girl spoke with authority and professionalism regarding the effects of the different ingredients. Severus surveyed the transaction with a satisfied look.

It was growing late in the afternoon, when Severus finally insisted that Harry eat something. Harry’s stomach still wasn’t quite keen on the idea of food. He felt emotionally and physically wrecked and wasn’t certain that he had any energy left over to devote to digestion. Severus was adamant however, and began to direct him to a small pizzeria owned by one of “the Coven” as he called the book club to which he belonged.

They were a group of professional women who, for the most part, all had businesses in the area. They were a collaborative group, each working with the other to promote their various trades. Most of Severus’ “patients” were through referrals from the other shop owners. Severus in turn sold their wares in his shop – crystals, CDs, even artwork. To call the group a book club seemed indeed to be a misnomer, as they scarcely discussed the books they were set to read. Instead, they met on Thursday evenings at the “Naked Moon” pizzeria and traded secrets, shared gossip and, above all, got pissed.

Harry listened as Severus went through the details of how he came to be established in the city with a detached sense of awe. He quickly came to realise that Hadrian had little to do with the man he knew. Harry’s mind boggled to think of Severus Snape in the middle of this group of Muggle women. It occurred to Harry that he’d been labouring under the delusion that Severus spent his life incognito. That Hadrian was a disguise Severus wore. As Severus spoke about his daily existence, it occurred to Harry that Severus Snape really was dead and resurrected only periodically and only at Harry’s insistence.

The realisation made Harry unspeakably sad, and he wondered, not exactly for the first time, if the mission given to him by Dumbledore was necessary at all. He understood now Severus’ admission that Harry “ruined” him. While Severus busied himself with constructing a new life, Harry was a constant reminder of all that Severus had worked to erase.

He was quiet as they made their way to a large corner booth at the back of the Pizzeria. Harry sat with his back to the room and let the cloaking spell fall on Severus’ instruction. “I hope you’re prepared,” Severus said with a smirk. “We’re about to do damage control.” He shot Harry a half-hearted reproving glare and took his seat across the table.

The girl who seated them, Julie, brought them water and menus. “Damage control?” Harry said once she’d scurried off again.

Severus nodded. “If I don’t introduce you, I will have to endure months of whisperings in regards to my mysterious past. I’ve worked hard to convince these women that there is nothing worth looking into. Your appearance will provide fodder for their overactive imaginations.”

Harry offered a contrite look. “Sorry. I really didn’t mean to complicate things,” he said.

Severus shrugged. “I’ll turn it to my advantage,” he said.

Harry’s mind caught up with their discussions. It occurred to him that it was Thursday. “Wait, they’re all coming here? Tonight?” Panic blossomed in his chest.

Severus smirked. A sadistic glint lit up his eyes. “Oh, they’ll be here,” he warned. He laughed at the look of horror on Harry’s face. “Don’t worry. Just follow my lead,” Severus said. He smiled at something over Harry’s shoulder and said, under his breath. “And it starts.”

Harry twisted around to see a woman coming toward them. He guessed she was somewhere in her late thirties. She had short blond hair and dressed in trousers and a man’s button down shirt. A tattoo curled up her neck from under her shirt. Some sort of abstract floral design.

“Hey. I didn’t expect you’d come tonight,” she said, shooting Harry a look of undisguised curiosity before leaning in to allow Severus to kiss her on the cheek.

“If I’d have thought I could get away with secreting him away, I might have done it. But I have to live with you vultures,” Severus said, with a wry smile. “And the man has to eat.”

The woman grinned at him before turning to Harry. “Anna,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Harry.” Harry shook her hand and offered a small smile, eyes darting uncertainly toward Severus. He wasn’t going to manage this, he was sure. He’d screw something up. Why on earth had he thought coming here was a good idea? Severus’ eyes glittered in amusement at his panic.

Then he remembered. He was in love with this git.

“We’ve heard so much about you,” the woman said.

“You’re the second person who has told me that,” Harry said with a reproachful glare at Severus. “I wouldn’t listen to him, if I were you. He’s incredibly biased. Most people find me charming.” He smiled his award-winning smile, worthy of Witch Weekly.

Anna laughed. She had a large booming laugh that echoed in the mostly empty restaurant. It made Harry feel warm and slightly uncomfortable all at once. The effect was dizzying.

“They’re exaggerating,” Severus drawled. “Honestly, Anna. Mr Evans’ ego is big enough without thinking I spend my time waxing lyrical about him.”

Mr Evans, Harry suspected, was him. That Severus would attribute his mothers’ name to him made Harry feel very strange indeed. He forced himself not to analyse the implications too much. Severus had taken his own mother’s maiden name, after all.

Anna grinned at the two of them. “What can I get you to eat?” she asked.

Harry hadn’t even looked at the menu and when he went to do so, Severus stopped him. “Harry has a fondness for Spaghetti Bolognaise,” Severus said with a smirk that effectively liquefied Harry’s insides. Harry’s eyes widened. He felt a blush creep up from under his collar.

“For two?” Anna asked and Severus nodded. “And the house wine?”

“Naturally,” Severus answered with a smile that spoke of a shared understanding.

As the woman went away with a warning that she’d be back once the others arrived, Harry’s eyes narrowed. “If I’m going to pull this off, you’d better tell me what they think they know,” he said darkly.

Severus chuckled at the man’s apparent discomfort. “They know an abbreviated version of the truth,” Severus said. “You were my student. We didn’t get on when you were in school but have since made amends. You’re the only person with whom I maintain contact in Britain. We spent the holidays together.”

Harry nodded. “And do they know...”

Severus shook his head. “I refused to either confirm or deny their suspicions.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Right. So they know.” An inexplicable pleasure rushed through Harry at this knowledge. It was somehow liberating to know that someone suspected their secret, even if it was a group of strange women. It made what had happened more real, somehow. Less ethereal.

“I’ve explained that I left Britain to travel after the Headmaster of the school I taught at died suddenly. I had begun teaching at 21 years old and stopped when I was 30. Officially, I am 36 years old.”

Harry snorted at this and Severus glared. “Muggles age faster than wizards. If I'm to stay in this world for long I needed to start young.”

“All right,” Harry said. “So I take it you haven’t mentioned your friendship with my mum?”

Severus shook his head. “They know your parents died when you were quite young, and that you were sent off to boarding school when you were eleven. The year I began teaching botany.”

“Botany?”

“The science of plants,” Severus said with a bland look.

“I’d have thought chemistry,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. He knew what botany was.

Severus shook his head. “Chemistry is too specific with a lot of theories that I don’t fully understand. Botany is easier for me to speak to. Not that I’ve ever had to give lectures, but it helps add credence to my career as an herbalist.”

Harry nodded. “Ok,” he said, committing the story to memory and hoping beyond hope that his tired and weary mind wouldn’t let him down. He supposed he should start calling the man Hadrian in his head. “Hadrian,” he said, just to try out the name.

Severus smiled. “They’ll do most of the talking,” he reassured him.

Julie brought over the bottle of wine and poured a dram into Severus’ glass. Severus sniffed at it and then took a sip in his mouth before nodding. Harry’s glass was filled and then Severus’ own was topped up.

“Thank you, Julie,” Severus said, and the girl blushed and smiled back before scurrying away.

“I think she fancies you,” Harry observed.

Severus shrugged. “It’s the accent,” he said with a dismissive wave. “She’ll fancy you by the end of the evening.”

Harry looked at the man in front of him, acutely aware that he scarcely knew him. It was a startling epiphany.

“What?”

Harry shook his head. “You. You’re amazing,” he said, sounding like a moonstruck twit. “It’s a little weird to see you like this. In this context.” Harry dropped his eyes to his wine glass. “Around Muggles.”

Severus grunted. “It’s my penance for several years of dubious politics,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve learnt a lot over the last five years and have developed a healthy respect for this world.”

Harry cocked his head to the side and considered the man. “I think it’s more than that. You’re... integrated here. You’re a part of this world.” Harry wondered at the feeling of loss that filled him with this realisation. A renewed grief for his old Potions master. It was a selfish feeling, Harry knew. He should be happy to see the man had found his place in life, but he couldn’t help but feel a little envious of all these people that they should have the very thing Harry could never have again.

Severus grunted. “Sometimes I manage to believe that,” he said. “But I can never fully fit in here. I can never be completely honest.” He offered a little smile. “And that’s the role you play,” he said. “My bridge between the old and the new versions of myself.”

“Yeah. A painful reminder of everything you want to forget,” Harry said wryly.

Severus shook his head. “Your role is to ground me. To make sure that I don’t get so lost in the role I play that I lose myself entirely. As irritating as it is to admit it, Albus was right. Without our friendship, I would never have been free to build this new identity.”

Harry gave a small, cheeky smile. “So...I suppose you need me, too.” He didn’t quite believe it, but was pleased if Severus thought it was so.

“A necessary evil,” Severus intoned.
The young, infatuated waitress interrupted their banter. She distributed two plates and placed a large bowl of spaghetti bolognaise in the middle. She set out a smaller bowl of parmesan cheese and then smiled at the two of them. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked, not quite looking at Severus.

Harry shook his head. “Thank you. It looks lovely.” He waited until she left the table to glare at the man. “Spag-bol? Really? You’re not going to make this night easy for me, are you?” he teased.

Severus gave an innocent look. “What? I’m sure I once heard you say that it was your favourite meal.”

“I think I prefer your recipe.” Harry offered a wicked grin before taking up the spaghetti tongs to serve first Severus and then himself. He topped his pasta with a generous layer of cheese. The smell had awakened his appetite and reminded him that he’d not eaten anything since the night before.

The two men ate in relative silence. Severus twirled his spaghetti in neat little nests around his fork, and Harry cut the pasta into manageable bites and sucked up the long bits. Severus made only a passing comment on his table manners, but seemed more entertained than disgusted by Harry’s lack of decorum.

When the plates were cleared and the glasses refilled, Severus began filling him in on the women who were due to arrive any minute. There was Rebecca, a graduate student in literature at the university, who specialised in Medieval British Literature. Susan, who owned a local music store and who helped to promote musicians in the area. Theda, Severus’ strange assistant, was the daughter of Mary. Anna, the pizzeria owner, and her partner Shannon, who was an architect and responsible for the eclectic look of bohemian-meets-modern stylings of the restaurant. And then there was Mary, Severus’ first friend and former employer, a wiccan (which was some Muggle version of a witch).

Harry listened to each brief introduction, not really hoping that he would get all the details straight. The important thing, he decided, was that he retained his and Severus’ back story. He resolved not to talk any more than necessary and to allow Severus to field any questions that may come his way.

Anna was the first to join them, having retired her apron and set out several more glasses in preparation for the meeting. No sooner had she sat down than the tinkle of the bell at the door announced the arrival of Mary, who slid onto the bench next to Anna. Severus slid along to the end of the booth, to be closer to Harry. He gave Harry’s knee a small, reassuring pat.

“I see you two found each other okay,” Mary said with a warm smile.

Harry smiled back. “Yeah. Thanks for your help,” he said, eyes darting over to Severus.

“Anytime sweetheart,” she said. “The poor man was searching through the phone book. Of all things,” she gave Severus a reproving look.

Severus heaved a long suffering sigh as though this was an old discussion that had been buried on more than one occasion. “If he’d told me he would be in town, I could have given him directions,” he said haughtily.

“If you’d list your number like a normal person, you might have been pleasantly surprised,” she teased. Severus gave her a look that spoke volumes about what he thought of that idea. Mary laughed. “How long are you here for, Harry?” she asked.

“Just today,” he answered. Both women looked at him incredulously. “I was in Denver for a conference and thought while I was in the neighbourhood, I would try and see Hadrian,” he said, pleased with himself for remembering the man’s name.

“Hadrian tells us you’re a cop,” Anna said.

Harry glanced over for confirmation. “Not exactly a cop,” he said. “I head a small group of forensic investigators. We work with law enforcement all over Britain to help solve cases.”

“Harry has always had a weakness for mysteries,” Severus offered with a wry look.

Anna laughed. “Well I guess that explains your relationship,” she said with a grin. “Hadrian makes it a point to be mysterious,” she told Harry.

“Oh, believe me. I know.” Harry had spent the better part of his adolescence trying to solve the various mysteries surrounding this man. He cast a fond look. Severus rolled his eyes.

“The mystery is in your heads,” Severus said into his wine glass. “I’m really an open book.”

Harry guffawed at that. “Written in code in invisible ink,” he added, nudging Severus with his elbow. “Open book, indeed.” He shook his head and the women sniggered at Severus’ expense.

Their merriment was interrupted by the arrival of Rebecca, a thin woman with long straight brown hair, dressed in baggy jeans and a thick oversized cardigan. She stowed a heavy looking rucksack at a neighbouring table. The look of surprise on her face when Harry was introduced told Harry that perhaps Severus had underestimated Mary’s capacity for discretion.

“Harry, huh? We’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, flashing a secret smile at Hadrian. Harry turned his head to glare at the man. He wondered again exactly what these people had heard. Severus gave a resigned smile and shook his head.

“Hadrian was just telling us all how he’s transparent he is,” Anna filled her in. Rebecca snorted incredulously. Harry sniggered into his glass. As quickly as he drained it, it was filled again. What with the travel, the lack of sleep and the small bit of food in his stomach, he was beginning to feel a little giddy. He resolved to go more slowly.

Rebecca recounted her day trying to teach undergraduate composition courses. The way she spoke reminded Harry of Severus’ own laments about the idiocy of his students and their incapacity to learn anything at all. Severus made sympathetic noises as she spoke, adding that the best the woman could hope for is that twenty percent of what she was trying to teach might take root in their brains. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“So... what was he like as a teacher?” Rebecca asked Harry directly.

Harry looked over at the man and then smirked. “Let’s just say I didn’t appreciate his teaching methods until much later in life.” Severus met his eyes and gave a wicked smirk that set Harry’s heart to pounding. The look was not missed by the group of women.

“Is that right?” Anna said.

Harry laughed breathlessly and took another drink to cover a damning blush.

“Would this have anything to do with the interesting vacation?” Rebecca asked innocently.

“Interesting?” Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

Severus shook his head. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, the lot of you,” he admonished. “You latch onto little details and construct a whole fantasy world around them. I assure you, the reality is not nearly as sordid as you all make it out to be.”

Harry laughed incredulously before catching himself. He pursed his lips to suppress his grin when Severus shot him a severe look. “Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all.

“You’re no help,” Severus said with an amused smile. “I have told them that our vacation was quiet. That most of our time was spent trying to put you back together after your abominable attempt at skiing.”

“Abominable!” Harry said indignantly.

“But none of what you told us explains the use of the word ‘interesting,’ Hadrian. And if you won’t offer up a suitable explanation, then it is your own fault if we collectively fill in the blanks,” Rebecca teased.

Harry nodded. “She has a point, Hadrian,” he said. “The truth is, he enjoys the intrigue,” he told them conspiratorially. He yelped as a well-aimed finger poked him in his side.

“We like him, Hadrian,” Mary said with a grin. “He can stay.”

“Heavens forbid,” Severus said into his cup. His eyes met Harry’s and Harry swallowed to force down the sudden wave of sorrow. He was saved by the arrival of Shannon. Another shifting of seating positions was in order so that Shannon could sit next to Anna, whom she greeted with a warm kiss. The dark-skinned woman turned a shrewd gaze to Harry, looking him up and down like a puzzle.

“So glad to finally meet you,” she said at last. Her full red lips stretched into a vibrant smile. Harry smiled back. “We’ve heard...”

“A lot about me? So I keep hearing,” Harry reached under the table to swat at Severus’ thigh. “Someone’s going to have to fill me in on what this git’s been saying about me.”

“Nothing bad,” Mary assured him.

“You were his student,” Anna told him.

Rebecca laughed. “Who drove him crazy."

“Quite the trouble maker,” Shannon added, eyes alight with mischief.

“All true,” Severus insisted. “The boy spent more time in detention and out.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Most of those detentions were given by you,” he pointed out.

“For very good reasons,” Severus said.

Harry shrugged. “Sometimes. But you did have it in for me.”

Severus smiled. “Perhaps.”

“But you worked out your differences after you left school and became good friends,” Mary interjected as though reminding them.

“I’m interested to know how two people with so much professed animosity become good friends,” Rebecca said pointedly.

Severus’ expression was impassive, but Harry felt they were approaching delicate ground. He shrugged. “I had a rough patch after I left school,” he said. “We didn’t like each other very much, it’s true, but in his own way, he always looked out for me. I showed up on his doorstep and he gave me the kick in the arse that I needed.” He gave a half smile as the other man looked at him, clearly pleased with his explanation. “And now he’ll never be rid of me. No matter how far away he runs,” Harry laughed.

“Such a burden,” Severus sighed dramatically. His hand came over to ruffle Harry’s already untidy hair.

“He protests too much, methinks,” Rebecca said, shooting Severus a sly grin.

“And so how do we go from wayward student/long-suffering teacher to interesting vacation companions?” Shannon said. The rest of the women giggled at her audacity.

Harry blushed spectacularly but met the woman’s eye. “Damnable persistence,” he answered in his best imitation of Severus’ drawl.

Severus laughed out loud before covering his face with his hand, shaking his head. “Enough wine for you, I think,” he reprimanded, pushing Harry gently on the shoulder. “Best to get you home before these harpies wheedle out all the gory details of my private life.”

His comment was met with complaints all around. Harry interjected. “He’s right though. I’m pretty knackered,” he said, yawning for effect. He’d enjoyed seeing this part of Severus, but he was looking forward to spending some time alone with the man before he had to go back to his own private life.

Severus slid out of the booth and fished some money from his wallet, laying it on the table. Harry followed his lead. “It was very nice to meet you all,” he said politely. He was pulled into a warm embrace by Mary and shook hands with everyone else.

Once everyone had said their goodbyes, Severus led Harry out into the now dark early evening. Harry remembered to reactivate his glamour once they were outside.

“You did well,” Severus said.

“They’re nice ... Relentless,” he laughed.

Severus grunted, amused. “That, they are,” he admitted. “But you handled yourself well.”

Harry laughed. “Well, I am an Auror, Hadrian. We learn how to remain calm under pressure.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You’ve always been good at being evasive,” he teased.

Harry grinned. “Not with you,” he said. “You’ve always seen right through me.”

Severus nodded his agreement. It was rather pointless denying it. “We both have our talents,” he said, turning down the alley to where his shop was. He used his key to unlock the shop and ushered Harry inside, locking the door behind them. Harry followed his dark silhouette through to the door leading to his flat. When they were inside, Severus waved his wand to turn on the lights and then turned to take Harry’s coat, hanging it with his own in the coat closet.

Suddenly alone, Harry was at a loss for what to say to the man. Their earlier argument still hung in the air and all the light-hearted laughter of the evening had no place here. Somewhere in the room a ticking of a clock could be heard, counting down the seconds until Harry would have to go again. His eyes met Severus’, but the smile that came so easily before couldn’t be summoned now.

Severus stepped forward to close the gap between them, his cold hands cupping Harry’s cheeks, tilting his head upward. Severus lips pressed against Harry’s forehead. Harry’s arms wrapped around the man’s neck, his lips brushing Severus’ neck. Severus returned the embrace, arms curled tight around him, pulling him close and holding him there. For a moment, Harry relished in the proximity, intent on staying in the here and now, and letting go of tomorrow and whatever came after. This was where he found his happiness. Right here. In the warmth of Severus’ body, in the heady smell that was fully Severus. The man’s thumb stroked Harry’s lower back in small firm strokes. This is a place Harry would revisit again and again in his memories.

Severus shifted his head to kiss down Harry’s jaw and Harry leant into the contact. He knew he would have to stop this. He’d promised Ginny not to do it again. But at the moment, he needed this closeness. His entire body yearned for it. When Severus’ mouth closed over his bottom lip, month's worth of need expressed itself in a low moan vibrating in Harry’s throat. Harry met the kiss eagerly, his tongue dipping out, intent on capturing the taste of the man – wine and a hint of garlic, wet and warm. Severus’ hands returned to his face, holding Harry in place as the two men kissed with increasing urgency. Harry ran his hands over Severus’ chest, over his shoulders, arms, thrilling in the firmness – the masculinity of the man. Severus released him and Harry breathed raggedly, giddy with desire.

He blinked his eyes open to focus on the man standing in front of him, watching him intensely as he undid his shirt. Harry bit down on his bottom lip and took a deep breath. “We can’t,” he heard himself say in a despairing tone. Severus raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop his progress. "I promised her I wouldn’t—"

“Harry,” Severus said, cutting off whatever promise Harry had made. “Saturday, she has you for the rest of your life. Tonight, you’re mine.” Severus let his shirt drop behind him on the floor and moved forward to tug up Harry’s jumper. Harry met his eyes and nodded, raising his arms to allow himself to be stripped to the skin. “Mine,” Severus repeated, hands moving to excite the skin on Harry’s chest.

“Yours,” Harry confirmed pulling up Severus’ undershirt. He hadn’t given much by way of a fight, but he was little inclined to keep this particular promise. He reasoned that this was a fulfilment of a prior obligation and so his promise to Ginny didn’t really count.

Any guilt over his faulty reasoning was swallowed up by a renewed rush of desire as Severus pressed his leg between Harry’s, targeting the very centre of Harry’s need. Harry’s skin sang out against the warm bare skin of Severus’ torso. “I have my own list,” Severus murmured into Harry’s ear causing Harry to shiver uncontrollably. He let out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah?” he whispered, running his tongue along Severus’ neck.

“Hm.” Severus had his wand in his hands. Harry heard the sound of a chain rattling as the cuffs flew into Severus’ waiting hands. “And if she finds out,” he said, running the cold chain along Harry’s skin. Harry chewed his bottom lip and raised his eyes. “You can tell her your hands were tied.” Severus smiled darkly, and pocketed his wand. He unbuckled the leather cuffs and pulled them apart with a raised eyebrow.

Harry smiled, offering out his wrist, watching as the cuff tightened around it. Severus made short work of the other hand before taking the chain and leading Harry to the wooden pillar in the centre of the large room. Severus raised Harry’s hands, attaching the chain to a small metal hook high up on the pillar. Harry could just barely reach without going onto his toes. He pressed his forehead to the wood and breathed raggedly.

Severus came up behind him and kissed his neck, hands reaching around to undo Harry’s jeans, fingers reaching down to stroke against the straining head of Harry’s cock. “I’ve spent hours picturing you like this,” Severus whispered into his skin. “I feared I’d never get the chance.” Severus hands dipped under the waistband of Harry’s pants and pushed both jeans and pants down to pool at Harry’s feet. Severus’ teeth grazed Harry’s arse cheek on the way up.

“God, Severus,” Harry breathed with a grin.

Severus urged Harry to turn around. Harry’s arms crossed and stretched almost painfully above him. His erection bobbed heavily forward, eager for contact. Severus kept his distance, however, leaning in just enough to kiss Harry’s mouth briefly. He waited until Harry opened his eyes before summoning a cat o’ nine tails.

“You know what this is,” Severus said. Harry nodded. “You’re ready?” Another nod. Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Harry corrected.

“Yes, what?” Severus smiled, fingers stroking the long leather strips, pinching the knotted ends.

“Yes, please,” Harry laughed. “Sir... master... Severus. Yes.”

Severus held the thing out flicking over Harry’s shoulder as gently as a caress, letting the long strips tickle his chest. Harry lifted his head, resting it against the pillar behind him. Another flick sent the strands slipping softly over Harry’s stomach, falling down to brush against his erection. Harry drew in a quick breath, eyes opening to meet Severus’. “Turn around,” Severus breathed.

Harry complied, seeing the air before him shimmer with a reflection spell. Harry could see himself stretched up, arms straining against the cuffs, cock reaching out to kiss the pillar in front of him. His face was flushed with excitement, eyes glittering brightly in anticipation. He’d never felt so sexy before in his life.

His breath left him in a puff as the leather strips fell again, this time biting into the skin of his back before slipping down gently. Behind him, he could see Severus watching him. Another blow, the knots of the strips meeting sensitive skin, and then tickling as they gave into gravity. Again and again, Harry’s face contorted with pain, his lip held tightly between his teeth as his pleasure heightened. He could hear Severus’ breathing grow as ragged as his own, great gusts of breath preceding every slap of the strips.

Harry lost count of how many times the straps landed. His skin was on fire, and soon even the light caress of in between blows was sweet agony. Harry couldn’t make sense of the chorus of grunts and moans. He was no longer certain if they were coming from him or the man doling out his punishment. For there was no mistake. This was punishment. Penance for daring to infect Severus’ quiet life with his optimistic hope for more.

Severus suddenly strode forward to press against Harry from behind, bringing the cat o’nine around to graze against Harry’s chest, while Severus other hand brushed soothingly over Harry’s back and arse. Severus met Harry’s eyes in his reflection, teeth grazing over Harry’s ear. “You’re going to miss me,” the man breathed.

Harry swallowed. “I’m going to miss you,” he echoed, and he felt the words take root in his very soul.

Severus nipped at Harry’s jaw and pressed his trouser-clad hips against Harry’s arse. “Whenever you’re with her, you’ll remember me and know that this is where you belong.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily, desperately. “Severus,” he pleaded.

“Open your eyes,” Severus commanded, taking the handle of the whip and stroking it down Harry’s back. Harry complied, heart pounding in a combination of loss and lust. “You’ll come back to me, Harry,” Severus said.

“Yes,” Harry breathed. “Please.” Harry’s arse jutted backwards to encourage the handle’s slow progress toward his arse. Severus continued to assault his raw skin with kisses before stopping. “I don’t suppose you brought lube,” he said, pressing his forehead into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry laughed breathily. “Sorry,” he said.

“Never mind,” Severus said before summoning his own. “It isn’t as pleasant but we’ll make do.” Harry saw his amused smirk in the mirror before hearing the cap pop open and the gel squirt noisily out. “Spread your legs,” Severus ordered and Harry struggled to obey. He was forced onto his toes to keep his arms from being overstretched. His efforts were rewarded with the feel of the smooth plastic handle nudging up against his opening, cold and wet with the lube. He held his breath as Severus began to work the thing inside, only remembering to breathe when Severus delivered a firm bite to his neck.

It had been so long since he felt this. After his discussion with Ginny, he’d told himself that it was best to give this up. Toys alone couldn’t possibly sate the desire for the real thing. As the real thing was now indefinitely out of reach, it was better to suppress the urge entirely.

The plastic handled filled him, stretched him, and he wondered how on earth he would give this up. Underneath the pleasure was the anticipation for what would surely come next. Warm, fleshy and huge. Harry moaned as Severus twisted and pushed, preparing him. The tassels fell to tickle the backs of his thighs. “Squeeze around it,” Severus instructed. “Don’t let it fall.”

Harry did as directed, taking the opportunity to close his legs and relax to the soles of his feet. His arms ached already, his back side still sang with the fading sting of the whip. A contradictory ache from his bollocks offered a bass note to the medley.

Severus slid in front of him, kissing him intensely. The man’s fingers pressed against the makeshift tail lodged in Harry’s arse. Harry whimpered desperately and thrust his hips forward to seek any possible contact. Severus brought his hand to squeeze tightly around the base of Harry’s cock. He felt the hard, impersonal touch of Severus’ wand and then the familiar magic of the constricting charm tighten around him. Harry gave a small maniacal laugh and breathed the word “evil” as he stretched forward for one more taste of that retreating mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you, Harry,” Severus warned in a low voice, rounding to position himself to do just that. Harry saw his reflected face flush with desire. His eyes glimmered with need as he met Severus’ gaze. “I’m going to come deep inside of you,” Severus continued, taking Harry in hand and stroking him teasingly. Harry’s eyes rolled up, his knees going momentarily weak, causing his arms to stretch painfully. “You will not be so lucky,” Severus said with a sadistic grin.

The other man began working the handle in and out again, stroking Harry in time until Harry felt certain he would implode from the pressure. After an excruciatingly long moment, Severus tugged the thing out, cleaning it quickly and then banishing it back to wherever it came from. Harry could hear the sound of Severus’ zip coming down. His feet were urged apart again and he resumed the precarious position on his toes.

Without warning, Severus thrust into him, gripping Harry’s hips to keep him from slamming into the pillar from the force. Severus’ expression was tight, whether with pleasure or anger, Harry couldn’t say. He drove himself in again and again. Harry’s arousal was momentarily abated by the pain ripping through him. He shouted out as Severus thrust mercilessly. When Severus began again to stroke Harry’s cock, Harry couldn’t decide whether to moan his appreciation or to cry at the cruelty of this particular torture. His pleasure mounted in his abdomen, growing impossibly tight with need for release. And there would be no release.

Severus’ breath came in tight grunts in time with his pounding. The rhythm grew more desperate and erratic until at last he slammed inside, arms closing around Harry’s body in a tight embrace as he rode out the waves of his orgasm shooting warm and wet inside Harry. The pain in Harry’s arms was nearly intolerable and stole his attention away from his own unsatisfied arousal.

Severus must have sensed this, or had enough experience with bondage to have a healthy understanding of human limitations, for he soon slipped out of Harry and eased the cuffs off the hook. Harry winced as his arms were released, his shoulders complaining at the change in position. He rolled them and flexed his fingers to allow blood back in. Come dripped down his thighs before Severus cleaned them both with a quick spell.

The other man was silent as he removed the cuffs from Harry’s wrist and let them drop to the floor in favour of massaging Harry’s hands and wrists. Harry took a moment to study the man’s face as he did so. Flushed and sated was a good look for Severus. The lines from his habitual sneer were still present, although his expression was relaxed. The man raised his eyes to meet Harry’s lingering gaze and the unnameable flicker there made Harry’s heart clench inexplicably. Harry couldn’t put words to what it communicated, but his heart recognised the sentiment and broke again at the sight of it. Regret. Reluctance to let go. Anticipation of loneliness to come.

Or perhaps Harry was just projecting.

“I love you, Severus,” he heard himself say. His eyes widened and his mouth shut tightly against any other stupid things that might try and leap out of it. Severus’ regard went hard. Anger flashed through it. “Sorry,” Harry said quickly. “What a stupid thing to say,” he reprimanded himself aloud, using his liberated right hand to cover his eyes, his forefinger stretching up to stroke his scar.

Severus heaved a sigh and then curled his hand around Harry’s head. “It’s your cock talking,” he said, squeezing the garrulous organ. Harry would have liked to say that his cock had nothing to do with it. That really, at this point, he didn’t care if he ever came. It was enough just to be with this man. To be near him. To hear that voice. Kiss those lips. To wrap himself in his warmth. That is what Harry needed.

Harry’s cock, however, didn’t quite agree and pulsed steadily in Severus’ grip, hijacking Harry’s entire body, making his breathing come faster, his heart beat more urgently.

“Tell me you want me,” Severus whispered, parting Harry’s lips with his own.

“I want you,” Harry echoed, the want becoming a beast in and of itself.

“Take me,” Severus breathed.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He launched himself forward, plundering the man’s mouth, pushing him toward the bed in the corner of the room. He paused when he got there to push Severus’ trousers and pants down before gently pushing him back to the bed, crawling up to follow. He kissed the man’s hairless torso, treating his nipples to a firm bite and relishing the man’s reaction. Harry pulled one long leg around to urge the man to turn over. He took his time, kissing over the smooth flesh of Severus’ arse before prying the cheeks open to address the puckered flesh at the centre.

Severus pulled his knees up, pushing back against Harry’s firm, wet tongue. Harry groaned, fingers pressing hard into the man’s skin, tongue circling and spearing further. One hand reached between Severus’ thighs to caress the man’s scrotum.

He was intent on making the man remember him. If this must be the last time, then he would leave the man with little doubt as to where Harry’s heart would remain. Communicating this verbally wouldn’t help. It was too late for such discourse. Harry was seized with a desire to make the man his. His for tonight.

Severus groaned as Harry slipped two fingers into the spit-slick hole. While he wasn’t quite as adept as Severus, he was vaguely aware of the anatomy of things and after very little time, found what he was searching for. Despite Severus’ insistence that Harry just get on with it, Harry took things slowly. Severus would take time to recover and Harry wouldn’t get on with anything until he had. He alternated fucking the man with his fingers and teasing him with his tongue, taking care to excite the round pale cheeks with the occasional kiss, brush of teeth. His hand closed around Severus’ slowly awakening arousal.

When Severus reached a semi-hard state, Harry applied the constricting charm. “Harry?” Severus breathed in question.

“We’re doing this together,” Harry explained, confident that despite his own painfully hard erection, with the charm under Severus’ control, he’d be able to last as long as necessary. The charm in place, Harry began stroking the man to hardness, fucking him with his fingers. Severus swelled quickly under the effects of the spell and was soon bucking back into Harry’s attentions.

“Now,” he ordered.

Harry smiled and raised himself up. “Turn over,” he said, summoning the Muggle lube and squirting the gloopy stuff over his hand. Severus arranged himself on his back, legs bent and open. Waiting. Their eyes met and Harry chest constricted. “Mine,” he told him with a small smile before hooking his arms under Severus’ knees. Severus closed his eyes and lifted his hips.

Harry bit down hard on his lip as he pushed inside, clenching his jaw against a shout as his overly sensitive and swollen cock breached the choking tightness. He watched Severus. The man’s mouth fell open, tongue darting to wet his lips. His brow furrowed as Harry rocked himself in to the root. He leant forward, kissing the man softly. I love you, his brain screamed. “You’re amazing,” his mouth interpreted.

Severus squeezed around him in response. Harry’s breath left him in a hot puff. Movement, when he finally managed it, was almost painful. Every inch of his cock was engorged and hyper-sensitive. He focussed his mind on maintaining a slow pace and strategic angle. His hand worked over the other man’s cock with a vigour that clashed with the slow steadiness of his hips.

Severus breathed through an open mouth. His eyes, half-open, watched Harry watch him until Harry had to close his eyes to search inwardly for control. Every movement was agonizing pleasure, exquisite torture. Harry was growing desperate for release, and every firm thrust inward brought him to the brink of an unsatisfied climax. Judging by the other man’s breathing, Severus would be coming to meet him. Severus’ hand insinuated itself under Harry’s own, taking up the work and leaving Harry to pick up the pace. He would be slightly embarrassed later at the memory of how vocal he became, but lost in the moment of his drive toward ecstasy, he thought of nothing. His mind took up a silent prayer. Come Severus. Come with me. Tell me when.

At long last his prayer was answered. Severus shouted “Finite Incantatem”, with Harry a mere syllable behind before both men froze, suspended in their collective release that seem to go on for an eternity before Harry was liberated. He went forward to bury his face into Severus’ neck, panting as his body spasmed with every pulse of his tortured cock.

He didn’t think he could ever move again. He was suddenly overcome with fatigue and weariness and a host of other emotions that had wracked him over the past few months. He felt he would cry... or sleep forever. It was sleep that won the battle, and Harry succumbed to a slumber that had become all too elusive over the last few months. He surrendered to its blackness.

“Harry?” Severus whispered, pinned down by the dead weight of the man. He noted the deep steady rhythm of the breaths clouding against his neck, and he snorted. He gently rolled the other man to the bed next to him. He reached for his trousers, his wand, and cleaned them both before relaxing back to the pillow and studying the man’s peaceful and still too boyish face.

He sighed, hating the man for pulling him into this mess. Loving him for the same. He had no delusions as to what might have happened had the man not found himself in his present circumstances. They might have seen each other infrequently, spent wild and creatively pleasurable moments together. The visits would gradually become less frequent. Severus would go mad with jealousy, and the two would end up where they began, spitefully sparring until they lost contact all together.

In the quiet of his mind, Severus could admit to himself that he would gladly have accepted the inevitable end for the chance to experience the rest. It made no sense. The relationship was inappropriate and ill-advised, but profoundly satisfying. Physically, emotionally, and (quelle surprise!) intellectually. Severus loved him. It wasn’t as surprising a revelation as it might have once been. After all the two had been through, after years of obsessing over the boy’s safety. More surprising and far more difficult to get over, was that he sincerely liked the man. He enjoyed his company. Over the past few months he thought about him nearly constantly and craved his presence.

It would have to end now. The potential between them would go unrealised, and Severus was left staring at an empty space in his life that he’d never noticed before. A space that begged to be filled. One that nagged constantly at the edge of his conscious mind until the absence was almost physical. Loneliness, an emotion that Severus hadn’t entertained since... Well, loneliness invaded again, mocking him with eyes as green as the Killing Curse.

Severus rolled onto his back and stared up at his ceiling. He was better off alone, he reminded himself. He cast his mind back to the days when he’d been quite happy with his routine of work and reflection. Thursday nights with the Coven and the odd Saturday night spent in anonymous coupling. It was enough.

It had been enough. And now? Well, it wasn’t worth thinking about. Life would go on as it had always done, and Severus would learn to cherish his self-imposed isolation once more. The Harry-shaped hole in his life would just become one more thing to avoid thinking about.

“Nox,” Severus whispered and then rolled over, wrapping his arm around the naked male body beside him. He’d start forgetting the man tomorrow and enjoy his last night whole.

-o-o-

“It’s time to get up, Harry,” Severus whispered, hand sliding over Harry’s arm before returning to rest around his waist.

“I’m awake,” Harry whispered back, taking the man’s hand and bringing it to his lips. He’d been awake for hours, actually, having woken up with a pit of dread in his gut and a lump in his throat. It took him a second to realise where he was and to recall in whose embrace he was nestled. “Sorry for passing out on you,” he said. He didn’t think he’d ever spoken a more sincere word.

“I should think so,” Severus whispered back.

Harry felt lips press at the back of his neck. He’d felt sick when he realised the time he’d wasted. Time he’d never get back. “I think you broke me,” he teased.

“Should I apologise?”

Harry snorted. “Never,” he whispered. Would that he could be so broken every day. His stomach tightened again. Never again, his mind told him, even as every other part of him struggled to find a way to hold on to this. “I need to ask you a question,” he breathed. His throat constricted forbiddingly. The question had haunted him as he lay next to the man, listening to the steady breaths, wrapped in the strong warmth of his arms. He was terrified of the response he’d get, but it was only fair to ask.

“I’m waiting,” Severus said when a moment later, Harry was still choking on the next words.

The younger man took a deep breath to power the words, “Do you want me to leave you alone?” He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the dreaded answer. After what the man had said yesterday, Harry expected an affirmative response. Severus had always been a reluctant but tolerant partner in the imposed arrangement. Harry had kept it up initially because he thought there was wisdom in the Headmaster’s dying wish. Considering everything, however, Harry was no longer so sure. He knew he needed contact with the man. He was absolutely certain of his own interest in maintaining their bizarre relationship. He felt far less assured about Severus’ interest.

His question was met with a silence that made Harry wonder if he’d manage to ask it at all. Harry turned now to face the man and could just make out his eyes glittering in the darkness. “I know what I said yesterday,” he said. “But I don’t want you to feel obliged. You don’t owe me anything.” Harry gave a little snort. “If anything I owe you... the choice.” He pulled his lip between his teeth and chewed nervously at the skin.

“The choice,” Severus repeated and then rolled onto his back, leaving Harry bereft of the warmth of the contact. Harry’s heart beat a panicked tattoo against his chest. Please say no, he silently begged.

“What I want is to tie you up and keep you here, keep you safe and use you for my own personal pleasure. Barring that... No, Harry. I don’t want you to leave me alone. Touched though I am by your self-sacrifice, you have already insinuated yourself in this travesty I call a life, and I would be quite put out now to see you disappear.”

Harry was at once elated and completely destroyed by the man’s snarky admission. His eyes stung and his mouth developed a salty film of grief. “Thank you,” he breathed and then kissed the man soundly. Severus grunted in reply but welcomed the man as Harry slid over to cover him. The gratitude that spurred the kiss evolved to need, and soon, Severus was pushing up into Harry with all the desperation of their last moment together. Last chance. Carpe diem.

Their respective finishes were staggered, Harry coming first and Severus following not long after. The afterglow was regrettably short-lived and included a shared shower, each man taking care to wash the other as thoroughly as time allowed.

Once Harry was dressed, he stood in the centre of the room, leaning against the pillar. The sickening ball of anguish had returned in full force, leaving him paralysed. Severus came to meet him, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Well,” the man said quietly. His expression had a guarded look that communicated more than it could hide.

Harry shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I know I have to go, but... I don’t know how.” He knew what waited for him back home. His fate, such as it was. And he knew with absolute certainty that what he and this man had built would never be the same again. He’d never have this again.

Severus pulled him close, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and resting his head on top of Harry’s. He cleared his throat before saying in a steady voice. “I’m going to kiss you goodbye. And you’ll disapparate. You’ll take the Portkey back to London and meet up with your foolish friends to bid farewell to your bachelorhood. Tomorrow, you’ll be married, and you’ll write to tell me how things went. How beautiful the bride was and how irritating the guests. And when you tell me that all is well, I will know that you wish things were different, but that fate has chosen for us all.” With a deep breath, Severus tipped Harry’s chin up. “Who are we to argue with Fate?” He gave a small smile. Harry swallowed and shut his eyes tightly to gather the strength to look at the man again.

“Farewell, Mr Potter.”

Harry gave a desperate laugh. “Farewell, Severus,” he responded on a breath, knowing that if he put a voice to the words, he would break. Severus pressed his mouth to Harry's, holding close for a long moment before backing away. Harry met the man’s glittering gaze before nodding.

He disappeared with a quiet pop.