After months of hospitalization and therapy, Severus Snape was finally back where he belonged.
Grueling hours of pain and fevers, spasms and nightmares, heartbreaking cries and screams, medication and fatigue consuming him with such power, such vigor, that at times he had to take a step back to make sure that it was all real. That he was real. That he was of flesh and bone, and not just some entity that was floating around looking for an eternal home.
That he was alive.
That he had survived.
That what he had been through hadn't been for nothing. Things that had haunted him on so many nights, trying to find solace in the fact that he had yet again been saved, even though he knew in his heart that he didn't deserve it. Not after all the secrets and the lies, the deception and the hate.
Did he even want it - To live?
And did he even know how to, now that both of his masters were dead?
How had he managed to survive the war on so many levels, and what would the outcome have been if he hadn't played party to both sides? Was he even a death eater anymore, or was he the new and reformed beacon of light? Was he a killer or rather, was he now a hero?
He thought yes - if the whispers of gossip were anything to go by.
Sometimes the looks he received were those of adoration and understanding. As if he had never done anything wrong, and he needed to know why. They should hate him with everything they had!! He had murdered their precious Dumbledore and yes, the man had been his friend, so why would they choose not to accept or understand that? Why smile at him and bring him flowers and meals asking for his signature, when he only deserved scorn and hate and sneers?
Closing his eyes on so many occasions, trying to bring back to his mind that fateful night of the war, trying - digging deep into himself - searching for answers that he wanted, that he needed, and the fact of the matter was, he had to do it all by himself. No one on the medical staff would give him answers, no matter how many times he had asked or begged or pleaded. Not one of them willing to give a name or even a sliver of hope for him finding out who had been his own personal hero.
Who had been so bold as to save his life and paint him as a good man?
Because the truth of the matter was that Severus had wanted to die.
He had foreseen it, expected it even, and had put all his affairs in order, including giving the role of Headmaster to another. He knew the wrath of the dark lord, of course he wasn't going to walk away from the war.
Carried away in a coffin is more like it.
Albus had warned him that he might not survive the war, and funnily enough Severus was happy to die for the 'greater good', granting his memories to the one who he had been told would save them all. I mean, what was there left to live for anyway?
'Trust Harry - he is the only hope we have'
Thinking back on everything that the old Headmaster had said, he felt his gut clench - there were days that he wanted to strangle the old man with his stupid sayings and his obscene knowledge of what was going to happen before the time. And there were times, he remembered, that he had begged him to put a stop to everything. How could he expect a child to win a war, by sacrificing his own life when he hadn't even been given the chance to live yet?
On most, if not all days, his heart felt heavy. Harry Potter had been born and raised to win a war. Groomed to die at the hand of a man that Severus himself had served. Only seventeen years old - he had never had the privilege of growing up and being happy. He had never been granted the opportunity to fall in love and get married. Have children who he himself would send to Hogwarts. Fulfill his dream of becoming an Auror. Perhaps retiring and teaching at Hogwarts, knowing that it had been Potter's first home, just as it had been his.
It was all so unfair. He had even told Potter that on occasion.
It may have failed to escape your notice Potter, but life isn't fair!
On leaving the hospital, every night in his chambers was the same for Severus. He would take a long hot shower or bath, get dressed in his bathrobe and sit in front of the fire. Pouring two fingers of his whiskey into a crystal glass, he would sip it slowly, letting it burn down his scarred throat, sometimes reading a book, other times just looking into the flames, begging himself to try and recall how he had arrived at this point.
Searching into himself as to why he was the one that had made it and not Potter. The young man who had sacrificed so much for their world, from his parents to his friends and even his future. Yes he had been a bastard to Potter, but when all things were said and done, he had his reasons. They weren't exactly the right ones, but at the time he rather thought he was justified. He had to keep up appearances, after all.
His Occlumency walls were shattered, no thanks to his dying.
Well, so called dying.
And he was too tired and weak to erect them again. And what would be the point - he had no one to hide from anymore, no more secrets to keep, no more plots to scheme. No one else to hold safe and secure, no one to protect, he had done his duty the way that he had promised he would. The way that he had been ordered to do.
The prophecy had been fulfilled.
Except he had failed in saving Harry Potter.
In many ways he rather thought that he had failed his long time friend, Lily Potter. He had made an oath to protect the boy - and he had. For a short while at least. When all was said and done, at the end of his very exhausting day, it seemed that he had failed. Yes, he often berated the boy for being 'just like his father' - but there were many occasions where he had seen that Potter kept his anger at bay, not paying homage to the insults thrown his way, so was he really just another James Potter?
The boy was annoyingly kind and at some times shy, more like Lily. A very private person, not really one to strut around and call attention to himself, so Severus knew that he had been too harsh in his treatment of the boy. Too cold and too....terrible.
He hadn't seen of heard from Potter ever since waking up and leaving the hospital, actually ever since that night of the war, and even though it made him sad and left him with many questions, at least the war was over. If Potter was dead, well then he had done what he had been told to do. Fate had indeed stepped aside and let him die.
There were times that Severus wanted to go to his grave and just shout at him, berate him and insult him all over again. Times that he wanted to burst into tears at how stupid Harry was for listening to others.
Why couldn't you decide to live? If not for yourself, then for others?
Why didn't you try harder - why didn't you ask for help - you didn't have to die!!!
The-Boy-Who-Lived
The times that Severus didn't read, slow tears would travel down his cheeks at the thoughts and memories clouding his mind, and he knew in his heart of hearts, that something was missing. He knew, and yet..... how to find it, to rectify it, to heal it? To replace it?
The war had been won because the foolish boy had walked to his death that night. Harry Potter had been told to do it. Raised and groomed to believe that it was on his shoulders, and he had embraced his destiny. Like the stupid Gryffindor that he was.
Waking up in cold sweats on some nights, had Severus reliving his own death. There was a sharp slice to his neck and as he could feel his life force draining away, the heat from his blood being replaced with the cold shock and horror because of the wound from that disgusting white wand of the dark lord, the red seeping through his clothes, he noticed the large snake that would come too close.
And then the pain of sharp teeth, piercing him over and over and over again. Slowly his body would become limp, his eyes would droop, his breathing would become labored, and he would know no more.
But there was more.
On the nights that he pushed himself further, looked deeper into his own mind, he saw beautiful green eyes looking into his dying ones, a hand placed around his neck as if to stop the flow of blood, shouting at him to stay awake, that he was going to make it. A vial being conjured, his tears leaving his face, being scooped up so that others could see what he had been holding onto until the last - proper - moment. To share his disgusting knowledge. So that others could have the advantage of knowing the outcome of the blasted war.
His hand dropping to the floor, slumping down making a heavy sound as his eyes closed in final defeat, and then -
Waking up in a hospital so white he had a headache for days. It had felt like someone had cursed him from the inside. Like his organs were being crushed and pulverized into ash. Knowing that this was hell, his own personal hell for everything that he had done. From running to the dark lord after hearing half of a prophecy to kneeling at the feet of the madman, to berating a little boy whose only crime was looking like his father.
So many wrongs, and he knew in his heart that he needed to make them right.
He needed to find out what had transpired between those two moments. How had he made it out of the blasted boathouse, and more importantly, who had saved him. There really was only one person who would be able to assist him with this knowledge, but he wasn't sure if she would ever want to speak with him, not after the way he had treated her.
Hermoine Granger.
She had been there that night, he was sure of it. She had held onto Potter while he was trying to save Severus. He recalled screaming and crying, and the words he had heard in his state of fading away. Said over and over. Her pained sobs trying to make him hear her words as if his very life depended on it. She was holding onto her friend while she cried and sobbed, and begged with Snape to stay alive.
Harry loves....
And then everything went black.
Sitting up straight in his armchair, he finished his whiskey, put out the flames in the fireplace, and made his way to bed. He would go through his memories one more time in the morning before he contacted her, just to make sure of what he had to do next to gain some insight, some answers that he so desperately thought he deserved in order to understand. He also needed to know where Potter was buried, and if possible actually go and visit him.
Why had he, who was Snape, been saved?
Not knowing that he had promised himself this same thing every evening for the past month, he left his lounge and went to bed, waking up with no new knowledge or memories of how he was alive, or the fact that he had wanted to contact someone the previous night.
But then he didn't have to remember.
One morning, 77 days after being released, there was a letter on his dining room table addressed very somberly to:
Severus Snape
Hogwarts
The Dungeons
***
Hermoine Granger was in no mood or state to be used in the way that she had been in her younger years. Her intelligence always shone through at the hardest of times, even offering her brilliant ideas towards the light side winning the war. Together with her two friends Harry and Ron, they had made sacrifices that nobody even knew about.
She had given up her parents in an effort to save them from being found by Voldemort or his death eaters. Ron had lost two brothers - one to the Ministry and one to death. It was perhaps even safe to say that he had lost George as well - not being the same lively vibrant soul that he had been before his twin was killed.
And Harry.
Gods, he had lost the most out of everyone. All the people that had claimed to love him had left him. His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Moody and the house elf Dobby. So many friends that had fought for him, and with him. Standing alone and even though it was with pride and strength, she knew that his heart and his spirit were broken in more ways than one, and she hated that she didn't have an idea on how to help him repair it.
Every night she would find Harry in the same spot, hoping for something to change. He would sit in front of the castle on a large rock with his back to the world and wait. She would find out later what he was so patient for - recalling her words to Snape the night of the war - and when she did she would admire him for his courage and tenacity of never wanting to stop for what he believed in.
All of them withdrawing after the war, because it was their right. They had to grieve in order to move on, it was the way of the world. Everyone faced their grief in different ways, and that was okay. Some became addicted to drugs while others became addicted to anger and hate. Always questioning - wanting answers they knew they needed. Demanding and hoping and praying that there was someone to give them a reason why, why, why. Why had children been used to fight an adult's war?
Dumbledore in his infinite wisdom had been a bastard. Surely he had ample chance to defeat Voldemort long before Harry was even born? He claimed that he defeated Grindewald, so what was the difference? One dark lord or two. Why place the burden with a boy who would always do exactly as he was told?
Why had children - who hadn't yet lived - been asked, or rather told to die for others? There was no justice in that. There was no reimbursement, as it were. There was no recourse for what they had suffered and endured. You don't get the privilege of a second life. Everyone was at fault, and yet everyone had been innocent. Children like Colin Creevy - creeping out of hiding to fight for something that Harry believed in. So damn young and so bloody endearing. Children like Lavender Brown, her broken back preventing her from being able to move away from a werewolf who wanted to eat her flesh.
There were many days that Hermoine had gifted her time to others. Going to see patients in hospitals, survivors in their homes, helping to restore Hogwarts, speaking with the remaining teachers about how to move forward. Being a shoulder to cry on and thanking so many of them for their selfless act of supporting Harry Potter.
And their replies were always the same.
We knew he was going to win - we believed in him with everything - Harry Potter is our hero
It never waivered. It never changed and on the days when Harry didn't accompany her, and she told him about it, he would invariably shed silent tears and hug her tightly at just how much he was loved.
It never failed to amaze her how much Harry would blame himself for everything, and how the emotions from others would take him out of the deep groove that he had dug for himself.
But something was still missing.
That night in the boathouse had moved her to tears and would undoubtedly move her to tears on many occasions. And it had done. Her friendship with Harry had only grown stronger in the aftermath of the war with both of them doing as much as they could to help those in need, whether it was financially or emotionally.
Ron had become a recluse. There were days that he didn't want to leave home and when he did he never strayed too far away. He wanted to be there for his family, always on the lookout for danger, always expecting yet another death eater to come and find them and finish the job that Voldemort couldn't. Paranoia was a terrible thing to cling to.
Many people thought on many occasions that he was being selfish and ignorant. But Ron Weasley would not budge on his stance. On the good days that he had, he would hold onto memories of his youth and spend time with Harry and Hermoine. They could both see that there was still a lot of healing to do and they would never stand in the way of that. On the bad days that Ron experienced, he didn't want to see anyone at all, claiming that he had to rest and refocus his efforts.
Until one day Hermoine had had enough.
She told Ron that there was still so much love in the world, and asked him if he wanted to be a part of it. She understood his anger and his pain, because she had lost her parents in the god forsaken war. He needed to vent his anger onto positive things like rebuilding, and learning and helping and assisting those who were also in turmoil. So that they in turn could help others.
A life circle of happiness brought on by paying it forward. Many of the Weasleys had listened to her rant but in the end they had caved in and had started their own healing process. Going to mind healers, staying off the dreamless sleep, not giving in to their anger, showing others that it was okay to be hurt, but you couldn't let it control or consume you.
Because at least we won - don't insult those who died by not living. They are the reason that we can have a better and a safer world.
The golden trio were slowly becoming themselves again. There were days that laughter was shared and it was in these treasured moments that she was truly happy at finding her own happiness again. It seemed that Ron was finally turning his life around, not that she would ever stop him from falling off the wagon. It was his right, but at least for now he seemed content.
Which is more than what she could say for Harry.
Every night after going to bed, she would replay the scene from the boathouse over and over again in her head, and after thinking that her work to aid others was over, knew that it was far from the truth. She wanted to - needed to - help her friend, because love is what he needed. She loved him, Ron loved him, hell everyone did, but it wasn't the kind of love that she knew Harry needed.
After about 3 months of tossing and turning, she left her bed to write a note to the man who would be able to give her some answers, and in turn she would be able to answer his.
After Harry had seen the memories from Snape, and after winning the war, something was different about him. As if he had been given a revelation, permission to do something that had until now, been out of bounds and forbidden. When she had asked Harry, and he had shown her what he kept in his heart, Hermoine was astounded but so happy for him.
And she wanted to help Harry in the same way that she had helped Ron.
Leaving her bed, with thoughts of where Harry would be as of this moment, she went to her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. Dipping her quill into the inkwell, with absolutely no hesitation, she started to write her letter.
Dear Severus,
If you look outside your window tonight, you will see the silhouette of a man.
He needs you as much as you need him.
Kind regards
H Granger
***
After reading the very cryptic note that he had received, and for the first time in a long time, Severus Snape changed his routine. He had his long hot shower, but had put on black pants and a crisp white shirt with buttons instead of his fluffy bathrobe. He had indeed looked out of his window and the words that had been written were true.
There was a silhouette of a man sitting by the black lake. On top of a large boulder, shoulders slumped, his head hanging down. He could see a faint spark of red glow brightly and then dimmer. This person appeared to be smoking, a habit that he himself had been addicted to in his younger years. He watched how the man would rake a hand through his hair, his other hand moving in a motion of flicking off ash, noticing how he wasn't wearing a coat.
His gaze always in front of him, for fear of missing out on something perhaps. Not paying attention to what was behind him, in a show of not considering the events of the past. Although he did look tense, so maybe Severus was wrong. The man sat and he sat and he waited. Severus wasn't sure what or who the man was waiting for, and didn't really care to know. The one thing that intrigued him however, was what the letter had said.
This man needs you.
Even if that were true, what could Severus possibly offer to anyone? And for the record, Severus didn't need anyone, no matter what the bloody letter said. He had no idea why Miss Granger had written the note, and he had no intention of finding out even if he was intrigued, which he was.
Exactly what about the man sitting on the rock needed him? And did he even know that a letter had been sent to Severus about him? He thought not.
Or perhaps it was an Auror waiting for him so that he could be carted off to Azkaban for his disgusting and atrocious behavior during the war, and his disastrous tenure as Headmaster?
He stood at his window, still dressed to go out and continued watching the man. Nervous about leaving his room, anxious about who it might be. Some may even call him a coward, it certainly wouldn't be the first time.
Again he saw how the hand moved through his hair, how the fingers of his right wrist would flick his cigarette stub away, seeing the red sparks flutter away. How the man would run his hands along his thighs in resignation, then he would stand up and stretch.
The build of the man was tall and broad. Long legs that looked strong in his well fitting muggle clothes, with what looked to be fine sculpted arms. Other than that, Severus couldn't see much else.
The man put his hands in his front pockets, took a deep breath making his shoulders drop in exhale, and without looking back, started to move further and further away. Severus kept his eyes on him until he couldn't see the shape anymore, and only when he realized that he had wasted time on something so idiotic, he grew angry. He could have been in his bathrobe, sipping whiskey!
But still, there was something about the man that seemed familiar. Something about him that was calling out to Severus. Perhaps this man would be the one to grant him answers. Perhaps the silhouette was holding those answers in his hands and would supply them to him no questions asked. He would love to make sure, because all Severus had to look forward to these days, were more and more questions.
And tremendous amounts of memory loss. He needed an opportunity to remember.
As much as you need him
He changed into his bathrobe, didn't drink his glass of whiskey and went straight to bed. Dreams of the hand running through thick hair haunted him, and when Severus finally found the courage to look up in his dream, all he could see were those stunning piercing green eyes that he had seen just moments before his death.
Gasping out loud and jolting up straight as he awoke, perhaps this man had answers for him about the boy called Harry Potter. Maybe he knew what had become of the hero and if asked nicely, he would tell Severus.
He would make an effort to confront the man the next time he saw him.
It took Severus a week after watching him night after night - run his hands through his hair and smoke - to gain courage and step outside.
The routine of the man never wavered. He would sit down, light a cigarette and looked to be thinking deep thoughts, while taking a drag. He would only smoke one cigarette though, which in hindsight was perhaps a good thing.
Dressed in his pants and shirt again, he stood at his window and watched as the man pulled a packet from his shirt pocket.
A cigarette.
Without further ado, because he really needed answers, he left his chambers in a rush and made his way outside hoping against all hope that the man would still be there when he arrived.
Slow silent steps - his feet leading him to the shore of the lake where he had seen the man sitting on a boulder. He was a couple of footsteps away, raking his eyes over the broad back of the man, his dark wavy hair hanging over the collar of his shirt past his shoulders, the curve of his arse where he was sitting down, his shirt that was tucked into his jeans held up by a belt, down to the black boots on his feet, when he came back to himself after he heard the snap of fingers.
The man had lit his cigarette. With his bloody fingers!
Taking a long drag, he saw the smoke curl into his mouth and up into his nostrils. How his tongue would sneak out of his mouth and inhaling while trying to hold it in, and he thought that even though smoking was a filthy habit, he had never seen anything so sexy in his life.
"Good evening Severus", the deep voice said, blowing smoke out. "You finally came".
Severus back stiffened.
How had he heard him and how did he know who was standing behind him?
"I've been waiting for you", the voice continued.
Severus swallowed. He took a step forward. He hadn't spoken to anyone in a while, but his silence may cause an issue with the man. He was going to chance it.
"May I join you?", he asked with a dry throat.
"Of course - if you don't mind me smoking".
Severus took his seat next to the man and stared out in front of him at the water, too afraid to look who it was sitting next to him, the silence engulfing them.
"I used to smoke", Snape said after a moment of silence, his voice still that rich deep velvet.
"Oh - why did you stop?".
"Too many other things to focus on I suppose", he said.
"Like the war?", the stranger supplied with a chuckle.
"Yes", Snape sighed. "Like the war".
Silence met his words that seemed to stretch on forever. He wanted to ask the man things, but where to start, what to say....
"You can start at the beginning - ask me anything you want", he said as if he knew what Severus had been thinking.
Not often caught off guard, he narrowed his eyes at the side profile of the man. It was dark out, and so still not sure who he was speaking to, he took a breath and his smooth voice flowed out of him.
"Who are you?", he asked.
The man spoke again.
"You know who I am Severus", and turned to face him.
Severus gasped out loud this time.
***
Harry Potter had seen many astounding things in his life, ranging from an angry Vernon Dursley with a purple face to his beautiful glowing stag stemming from the first time he used the Patronus charm.
But he had also seen a lot of pain and heartache. He remembered telling his friends how he could recall a flash of green light when he was a baby to riding on a motorcycle in the sky. He had seen and felt the ignorance of adults brushing him and his fears off like water rolling off a duck's back. He had seen Cedric Diggory drop dead right in front of him. Sirius slipping through the veil, and of course the death of Dumbledore.
He had seen the seeds that he had planted in Petunia's garden bloom to life in the spring, showing a variety of colors and scents. He had seen the most gorgeous of buildings, and stunning different magical animals.
He had seen many things.
Both ugly and beautiful.
But the vision in front of him right now, he supposed is what made him catch his breath, because now he could start on the things that he had been wanting to do for months.
Help Severus Snape remember the man he used to be. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he was prepared for any backlash.
Thoughts that had ran through his head ever since saving Snape and rushing him to the hospital, insisting, no demanding, that they save his life. How he had stemmed the flow of blood from his neck, shoved antivenin potions down his throat, whispered words of healing and comfort just to afford the man a second chance, because his circumstances were not mostly of his own making.
Voldemort had used him. And why should Severus have to pay the ultimate price for that bastard?
***
Harry Potter - who was supposed to be dead was sitting next to Severus, and he couldn't breathe.
But how was this possible? Albus had told him that the boy had to die.. what -
"Harry!- but - where - how is this....?", he stuttered, too stunned to be angry and call him Potter, and too astonished to realize that now the letter had to be true.
This man needs you as much as you need him.
He needed him - this was true. The green eyes that he had last seen before his death were in front of him right now and he wanted to know what had happened for him to survive.
"Severus, are you all right?", asked Harry who was facing him, and placed a hand on his cheek to calm him. Harry's hand felt warm, as it the night air was quite chilly.
"I - I don't know - I have so many questions", he swallowed with difficulty, trying to get used to the warm hand on his face.
"I know. That's why I've been waiting. I have a few questions too you know", he said and smiled.
Severus swallowed and asked for a cigarette. "You've been waiting?", he whispered.
Harry nodded, removed his hand and offered him one, lighting it with a snap of his fingers. Severus wanted to know everything. About his weird wandless magic, how Harry had known he was coming tonight and, how did he know it was him who had come to see him, about him dying...
But what came out of his mouth was.....
"You were supposed to die", he whispered to the hero.
Harry clenched his jaw. "That's not really what you want to ask is it?".
"No I don't suppose it is", came the reply after a while.
"Well, if it means anything, you weren't supposed to die either. What exactly do you remember?", asked Harry.
Taking a deep breath, Severus told him what he remembered. "I remember a dirty floor. The dark lord - there was a lot of blood, I could smell it - there was a snake, he bit me - I don't know how many times.."
"It was three", interrupted Harry with a snarl and took another drag.
Severus' hands were shaking, but he managed to put the cigarette to his lips and take a long drag, blowing out the smoke before he started talking again.
"Three then. I remember you - I think I saw - I saw your eyes. Holding me in place shouting at me, although I can't remember what you were saying. I heard Miss Granger - I think - say something about love, - something to that effect and then I passed out".
Harry licked his lips and finished his smoke. He dropped the stub on the ground and crushed it with his boot, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, waiting for his companion to continue.
"I woke up a month later in the hospital. No matter who I asked, no one would tell me who had saved me or who had taken me out of the boathouse, how I ended up in the hospital. How it was that I was still alive. Only that the war was over and we had won", he sighed.
"I will tell you everything Severus, if you promise not to freak out. But I also want you to promise me something in return, yeah?", said Harry and turned to face him.
Severus swallowed again and nodded his head, immune to the fact that Harry Potter was calling him Severus.
Harry smiled at him.
"Meet me here every night for one cigarette. I will tell you everything that I know. When I have finished smoking, it means I have finished talking for the night. Okay?", he asked and cupped his face again to reassure him of his presence.
Severus wanted to nod but pressed his cheek into Harry's hand, sending a message that he didn't want him to leave so soon.
Harry understood this. "Tonight we can take a bit longer", he whispered and removed his hand.
A moment of hesitation, but if Harry trusted anyone with his life it was Hermoine.
She had told him to be patient, that Snape would approach him when he was ready. Seemed she had been right again. She had insisted that Harry not lie to Snape, he had been through hell already and he didn't need any more sugar coating on anything. If he wanted Severus to trust and believe in him, he had to tell him everything. No matter how much he thought he didn't want to hear it.
The man had missing memories, and it was Harry who had held onto them this whole time. Who had nurtured them and kept them safe, and it was Harry who would have to let Severus know and understand everything if he was to return them, which he knew he had to do. But he was also aware of how distorted Snape's mind would be without them.
He remembered all too well the hate and disdain that the potions master used to have for him, and hoped with his whole heart that it was going to change. But if doing what he knew was right did grant him a cold shoulder, then he would walk away. At least then Severus would know everything. He would know the truth.
And Harry had resigned himself to the fact that he could at least live with that.
Being Obliviated wasn't the same as removing or gifting a memory. With an Obliviate, that memory would simply vanish, like it had never been there in the first place, leaving a void of confusion. But sharing a memory with someone - you knew something was missing. The pieces left remaining were fuzzy, blurry and nothing added up.
"I saw when Voldemort cut your throat", Harry croaked.
He could still see the swish of his white wand, moving so fast, so deadly it made his stomach turn.
"I heard you fall with a solid thump to the floor, saw and heard how he told Nagini to end you. He said one word - Kill - and she struck her target every time", he sighed and took a deep breath, and did something then that he knew would anchor him.
He took hold of Severus by the hand lacing their fingers together, and held it tight on his own leg, squeezing it to let him know he was there.
Snape didn't take his hand back, but rather welcomed the warmth.
"After he left, Hermoine, Ron and I came into the boathouse to see if we could.... could help you - I put my hand on your neck and shouted at you to stay awake because you needed to live. You had to stay alive", he choked out a sob, "- and - Hermoine conjured a vial and gave it to me. You were crying and kept muttering the words 'take them-take them' and so I did. I took your tears", he shuddered out a breath.
Severus held his breath. He knew what this meant - Harry Potter had the answers he was seeking. He remained silent to hear the rest of the story.
"I took your tears Severus and I kept them close to my heart for as long as possible. After you collapsed, all three of us cast Stasis charms on your body, healed what we could by staunching the blood flow, and had you moved to a hospital", he said sniffing and wiping his nose with the back of his other hand.
Severus was shocked into silence.
So he had cried that night, and it had been Potter who had saved him, but he could feel no shame at what he had done or how he had died. All he could feel at the moment was relief, that someone had listened to him in his time of need, when he had wanted it so desperately to matter. His tears must have portrayed something important for them all for Harry to have this overwhelming reaction.
"You saved me", he said, knowing it was true.
It was a statement, not a question.
Harry licked his lips and sniffed again. "Yeah - I needed you to live. And to be fair you saved me too".
"Why?"
"We'll get to that later, I promise", sighed Harry.
"What was Miss Granger saying about you and love?", he asked, his eyes flicking all over Harry's face watching him frown and seeing his wet cheeks.
Harry had tears running down his cheeks. He didn't want to tell Severus just yet, it was perhaps too soon, so he ignored the question and continued talking. Wiping his hand down his face, and with his other still holding onto Severus, he spoke again.
"I took your tears - Voldemort gave us one hour to collect the wounded - I took this reprieve to go to your old office. To look inside the pensieve. I still remember the castle was cold and damaged and broken, yet there were still two horcruxes that needed to be destroyed. But I took the time to look at your tears because I wanted to understand everything. Oh Severus, you have no idea what I - how it even - I mean - I just - ", he couldn't say it.
"What did you see Harry?", he asked with fear.
Harry lit another cigarette and gave it to Snape.
Then after lighting one for himself, he took a deep drag and squeezed his hand.
"Your tears were beautiful. They were different memories of you and my mother at different stages of your friendship. Then later on, there were memories of Dumbledore telling you that I had to die - in order for everyone to live - because.... You were so angry with him. I remember being so angry with him at the time for not telling me that most vital part - that this is how I find out! - but I also knew that my anger wasn't going to get me any results, so I continued watching".
Drag, inhale, blow out, breathe.
"When you showed him your Patronus I was blown away. It was the same doe that saved me in the forest of Dean - during the hunt for Horcruxes. When Dumbledore asked you something about caring after all this time, you said - you said one word", he said and cleared his throat.
"What did I say Harry?", begged Severus.
Harry took a breath before he answered.
"You said Always", he replied with a sigh.
Severus was speechless. He was being told of things that he couldn't remember, but he knew that something was missing. Because when a witch or wizard gifted a memory, that part of the incident became fuzzy. In Snape's brain there were too many missing pieces. He had so much he wanted to ask, but Harry spoke again before he could.
"You've always cared about my mother, but you didn't love her in the romantic sense, did you?".
Severus shook his head. "No. I loved her like a dear friend, but I lost that friendship after calling her a - "
"I know what you called her - and I know that if she were alive today, she would forgive you", smiled Harry and took his last drag.
"Why can't I remember?", he asked.
It was a long time before Harry responded.
"Because I still have your tears", whispered Harry after a while, and pulled Severus' hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it with his eyes closed.
Severus closed his eyes at the contact - this boy - no - this man - was sitting next to him and doing odd things like forgiving him, kissing him, regaling stories about how they had both survived, how Harry had wanted Severus to survive, and it all felt surreal.
The night air was growing even colder, and the castle behind them stood tall and proud, a silent but strong witness to their reunion.
There was silence that had followed Harry's last words and his kiss, and when Harry stubbed out his cigarette, Severus knew that their time was over for now.
But he wasn't going to be able to sleep - he needed to hear the rest of it.
"Harry - would you - ".
"No. Thank you but no. Not yet", he replied and kissed the back of his hand again and then let it go.
"You don't even know what I was going to say", scoffed the potions master.
"You were going to invite me inside to continue", he said and stood up.
Standing in front of Severus between his legs, he lifted the man's chin tilting it upwards and looked into his Onyx eyes.
"I will see you tomorrow - I can't tell you how happy you have made me tonight Severus, thank you", he whispered and kissed him on his forehead, stepped back, turned around and walked away.
Severus watched until he was gone then stood up on shaky legs and made his way back to his chambers.
***
Harry had told only one person what he had seen in the pensieve and that was Hermoine. He had even shown her the memory - not because he wanted to but because he needed to understand. He wanted to know that his interpretation was the right one.
Hermoine said that she would be able to decipher it if she saw it, so with a heavy heart he had finally given in and watched it with her.
*Flashback*
'You left him alive to die at the proper moment - you've been raising him like a pig for slaughter!'
'Don't tell you've come to care for the boy Severus'
'I have always cared!' Expecto Patronum'
'Harry - After all this time?'
'Always'
'He has to die - Voldemort has to be the one to do it'
'No - '
'Severus, there is no other way'
'You have demanded and taken everything from me and now you want to take him away from me too - I won't let you do it'
'You love him'
'No one can know'
'Severus'
'No one can know Albus - '
*End Flashback*
When they had emerged from the memory both of them were crying and Hermoine was hugging Harry to her as if she was never going to see him again. Choking out sobs and and rubbing each other on the back in a show of love, they came back to themselves after Harry asked her what she took away from the memory.
"Two people who share a similarity in their Patronus - some people say it doesn't exist, while others believe it to be wholesome and true".
"What the fuck does that mean?", he had asked her, nervous to hear what she was going to say.
"Do you remember when Tonks fell in love with Lupin?", she asked.
Harry nodded.
"Her Patronus changed - there was almost no shape to it until he accepted her love. Then it became a wolf".
"Yeah so".
"Severus loves you Harry - the myth is that a matched Patronus means soulmates", she said softly. "If two people share a matched Patronus, it means they can be together romantically and are magically compatible. As if their souls were made for one another".
It was a lot for Harry to digest.
His head and his heart had been through the wringer that day. Watching the memories over and over, in the hopes that he wasn't actually going crazy and was reading them right. And while he knew that the man was alive, and had visited him often in the hospital without his knowledge, he was pretty sure that he or his love wouldn't be welcome. He stayed most nights, holding Snape's hand, wiping his brow, falling more and more in love with him every day.
Because of the plain fact that Snape's memory of loving Harry wasn't his own anymore, it now belonged to Harry.
What if he forgot that he had once loved him? How would Harry ever be able to carry that cross. Knowing that there was someone who loved and wanted you but they weren't able to remember. And he would never force himself on to someone or demand that another love him.
He knew he had to tread carefully here.
And so after Severus was released from hospital and went back to Hogwarts to recuperate, both Harry and Hermoine were still busy with the rebuilding of the castle, while Harry was grappling with how to approach the potions master, without being turned to stone or ash.
They didn't see Snape once, but during the day while they were using their magic sweating in the sun, Hermoine had come up with a plan. A simple plan for Harry to give Severus Snape back his memories.
"Tell the truth", she said.
"That's your brilliant plan?", he asked.
"It is the best policy Harry, and you won't win his heart by lying and keeping secrets. Tell him how you feel Harry, better yet, show him".
Harry relented. He was going to tell Snape everything, no matter how long it took. From the moment that he had fallen to the exact moment when he found out that Snape felt the same way about him. But he knew that he was going to have to be gentle.
The man that had joined him for a cigarette was certainly different, but Harry knew that dying did that to you. Harry had used his given name and had noticed that Severus had done the same, which was more than what he had ever hoped for in the beginning. It would make having to tell him that much easier.
***
Snape was excited for the next night. His hair was a bit longer, past his shoulders and decided to wear it in an untidy man bun for the evening and put on casual black jeans and a shirt. Stepping onto the green lawn, he saw the silhouette of the man again. Nerves bubbling in his gut at what was going to be told to him tonight, but wanting - needing to hear everything that Harry had to say.
The way he had touched his face and kissed his hand seemed like that of a lover. What he wouldn't do to feel it again. Merlin knows that it had been ages since he had felt so wanted, so cherished. So adored - and it felt glorious.
"Good evening Severus", said Harry.
"Good evening Harry", he said back and sat down next to him.
Harry offered him a cigarette, and while Severus wanted to smoke with him, he didn't want their evening to end too soon. He still had so many questions. But he allowed Harry to light it for him, and after lighting his own, Harry blew out the smoke and looked at him.
"You seem anxious", commented the savior.
"Anxious - no", he replied. "Perhaps the correct word you are looking for is curious", he offered and dragged from his cigarette.
Harry chuckled and licked his lips. He liked this new Severus.
"Thank you", said Snape with a smile.
"Did I say that out loud?", chuckled Harry.
Severus smiled - "Yes you did".
"You should smile more often", he commented, thankful that he saw something different to a scowl on his face.
Snape looked at the man - "Harry - ", he started, not knowing what he wanted to say, but some form of apology would be best.
"Please let me do this my way. I need you to trust me Severus", he said softly.
Snape nodded his head.
"After I watched the memories you gave me - your tears - I sat down for a while. Trying to take in the fact that I had to die so that others could continue to live. The betrayal was - it was so difficult for me to accept that - ".
"What betrayal?", asked Severus nervously.
This is where the crux of the matter would get hard.
Harry had to tell him.
"Dumbledore told you that I had to die and that Voldemort had to be the one to do it".
"That meddlesome old fool! How are you still alive then?", he sneered, his heart hammering in his chest. That bastard!
Harry was glad for the reaction, perhaps it meant for him that Snape would accept his memories.
"Do you remember me telling you that when I saw the memories there were still two horcruxes left to destroy?", asked the hero.
Severus nodded and smoked.
"Nagini was one of them, I was the other".
"W-What - ?", whispered Snape.
Harry could hear heartbreak in his reaction. It made his heart swoon with hope that Severus would still want him without knowing it yet.
"The night he tried to kill me when I was a baby - a piece of his soul latched onto me. It's why I have this scar", he said and pointed to his forehead.
This time it was Snape who took hold of Harry's hand.
"I am so sorry Harry - I didn't know".
"Actually, you did", he said and proceeded to tell Snape about part of the memory - not all of it - that he had given him the night in order for him to win the war.
"If it wasn't for you, we all would have died. If you never gave me your tears, we wouldn't be sitting here right now", he explained and squeezed Severus hand.
Snape squeezed back, feeling a sense of regret and disgust at the old Headmaster. All because of his stupid plan, Harry - all of them - had been played like puppets on a string.
He watched as Harry took a drag, staying silent - knowing that their time was drawing to a close and he didn't want that. Not yet.
"What happened after....?".
"He called for me. Said that I was a coward for hiding behind others and asking them to die for me. Told me to meet him in the Forbidden Forest. Where we would finally duel", here Harry let out a shaky breath.
Severus swallowed audibly and smoked silently.
"And you went, didn't you?", he asked already knowing the answer.
Harry nodded.
"I walked away from the castle under my cloak. I knew that if the others saw me they would stop me. I told Neville to kill the snake, he said he would. And he did. When I arrived at the forest, I saw him. He was standing and waiting for me, his precious death eaters surrounding him. Hagrid on his knees tied to a tree like a fucking animal. God I was so angry...", he snarled.
Severus wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him close, offering comfort.
Harry sniffed and continued.
"I faced him with no wand. I knew what had to happen and so I waited. I think I could hear my heart beating, that's how silent the night was. I thought he was going to taunt me, but he didn't say much, and when it happened - when he cast the killing curse at me, his aim was true and I saw a bright green flash and fell to the ground".
Severus grip tightened and then took his last drag and vanished the stub while blowing the last of the smoke out of his mouth and nostrils. He wanted to know more, but he wasn't sure if Harry would be able or even willing to carry on tonight. So he waited.
Harry stayed silent still leaning into Snape's chest, liking the warmth from the man. Severus smelled of spices - probably his affinity to potions, Harry thought with a smile. It was nice.
He leaned back and away from Severus.
"Thank you for coming Severus, I'll see you tomorrow", he said and stood up to leave.
"Why?", asked Snape who didn't want him to go just yet.
"Why what?", asked Harry.
"Why only one cigarette - you clearly have more to say. Why do you want to drag it out for so long. Why not just tell me everything Harry?", he begged. "Please - I need to know".
Harry licked his lips in thought. "Severus.."
"Please - you don't have..."
"No listen to me. The memories that I am giving back to you are fragile which means that they could hurt you and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. Can you understand that?", he pleaded.
Eventually Severus nodded his head after frowning and wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.
***
Harry had gone straight to Hermoine afterwards. He was a shaking mess from being held by Snape. There was literally nothing he could do until he had told Severus everything and even then had no guarantee that he would be wanted or god forbid even accepted.
Severus didn't know and Harry had to tell him.
She comforted him on the couch, made him a hot cup of tea and told him to get some rest. Harry had been grilling himself for weeks and he had a couple more shocks to hand out to Snape. He needed to be strong to do it.
Harry listened. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light.
Hermoine stayed and watched him for a while. She didn't think that Harry telling Severus is what was bothering him. He was a brave soul and would not lie to him.
She had the inkling that Harry was having trouble letting go of the memory itself.
He had watched it over and over again, just to hear the words - You love him - over and over again and who could blame him, not being loved and revered like that by anyone ever before.
To Harry, it was almost alien.
When Harry had told her about his feelings and when they had started, she didn't seem surprised. It happened shortly after Dumbledore was killed. Harry had thought of him as a coward, and when he spat at him telling him that he was the Half Blood Prince, all Harry felt was revolt at the time. But just after that, Snape had disarmed him.
He had leaned over Harry's body and whispered words into his ear - 'You are so loved Harry, stay safe for me please' - and every time that he visited that memory, he heard the words that were left unsaid. He had only gone back to watch it ever since seeing Snape's memories, after recalling that he had it.
'Stay safe for me'
'For Me'
'Me'
'Me'
He had seen passion in his eyes, a desperate need for him to survive and play the game the way it was meant to be played. Harry was a mature man and he wanted Severus like he had never wanted anything in his life before. Which is why Hermoine was doing everything in her power to make it happen. Even if she had to tie Severus up and demand that he listen.
Severus had gone back to his rooms after the second meeting with Harry a shaken man. Being told about his memories was a good warm feeling, but he knew there was more. Harry had said so. The question was, why was he holding back? Why was he taking his time when he could do it all in one sitting?
What exactly was he waiting for, or was he scared of something?
Severus knew the feeling of being anxious and afraid only too well. There were days that he had felt it in the presence of Voldemort. Many times that he had feared for his own life, even if he was one of the top ranking in the dark army. The fact that he never showed fear didn't mean that he never felt it creeping in his bones, eating away at his insides.
He had seen the look of warmth in Harry's eyes, but there was something else. It almost felt like the man had been told something and he was grappling to come to terms with it himself. Fear perhaps, or even one of trepidation. Hoping for something, yet expecting something else entirely.
Harry knew he had to tell Severus as soon as possible. He was wasting too much time. Time that could be spent on better things, kinder things, in his heart he hoped for this. Tomorrow night he would do it. He couldn't put it off any longer. He had to tell - better yet - show Severus what he had been holding onto all this time.
***
They both held a cigarette in their fingers, and taking the first drag you could smell the tobacco fill the air. They were sitting side by side again on the huge rock facing the lake. Harry had many times wondered if he shouldn't tell Snape to meet him somewhere else, but he wanted to be consistent. Moving too much might be detrimental to what he was trying to achieve.
"I went to the afterlife you know", he started.
Snape gasped out loud - how was that possible?
"I saw Dumbledore - he told me a lot of things, but the one that mattered most was the fact that I could either move on or choose to come back. He said it was my choice. For once, he actually gave me a choice on what to do. And so I made it. I wanted to come back and finish what Voldemort had started, and of course to check on you", he exhaled deeply, the smoke billowing around him.
Snape swallowed and took a drag with shaking hands, trying to calm himself.
What exactly had happened to him in the afterlife? What did it look like? And most importantly, why the hell would he choose to come back if he could be with his parents?
"I know what you're thinking Severus", he chuckled.
"How could you possibly know what I'm thinking Potter?", he sneered and wondered if Harry could read minds now that he had died and come back.
"Ooh, Potter - you must be angry to be calling me that - Snape", he bustled back.
Severus rose his head and looked at Harry who was giving him a cheeky smile.
He smiled back and took another drag.
"Go on", he drawled, dying to hear the rest of the story.
"Voldemort cast the Cruciatis Curse at me after killing me - I felt nothing. No pain at all. Narcissa Malfoy was told to check and see if I really was dead. She stood up and looked him in the eye and lied to him. She felt my heartbeat and after knowing that Draco was alive, she took the leap. He had Hagrid carry my body back to the castle, shouting and laughing - HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!!".
"So wait. You did die?", asked Severus, trying to piece the story together.
"Yes. I told you I went to the afterlife and...."
Snape pulled Harry towards him and hugged him tight, wrapping his arms around his torso, so that he couldn't move. There were tears in his eyes at what this young man had been through, and he would tell him that he was proud of him, but later. He needed Harry to continue.
Harry's face was crushed into Snape's chest, smelling his personal scent and it had him reeling. He had known that his revelation would be a shock but he had to endure, he had to continue.
When he pulled back he smiled through his wet eyes at Severus. That his potions master, his bully was smiling back at him was a miracle. The man was also crying at would could have been lost, and Harry wanted to drown in it.
"You came back - thank Merlin", whispered Snape who really wanted to keep holding onto Harry, but there would be time for that later.
"He told Hagrid to put me down on the ground at his feet where I belong. Then there was more fighting and I managed to slip away under my cloak. The final showdown happened, and I even begged him to show some remorse. He laughed at me, told me remorse and sorrow and pity were for lesser mortals - for men who could die, not for a god like him. I told him that he was going to die as well, and yet he didn't believe me - anyway I'm getting off track", he said and took a pull from his cigarette.
Severus had moved closer to Harry, their shoulders touching.
"I killed him and it was over", he sighed and took another drag.
"I have so many questions - I feel you are leaving so much out", offered Severus.
"I am. But I mainly wanted to tell you what happened that made us reach this point", he smiled and looked in front of him again.
They were both silent for a while still smoking their cigarettes.
When Harry crushed his stub and stood up, Severus wasn't ready for him to leave. Yet he had no words to say at the moment. He wanted more, needed more time.
"I have a gift for you Severus", said Harry and placed one foot between Snape's legs on the ground, and lifted the other onto the boulder - which meant his crotch was eye level with Snape - so that he could look down at his companion.
Severus looked up -
"Actually I have two gifts", said Harry.
Snape searched his face, in the hopes that he could find traces that this wasn't going to be their last encounter.
"One", said Harry and showed him vials filled with silver wisps, telling him that they were his lost memories. Harry slipped them into his shirt pocket and traced his finger from the pocket, up his throat and came to a stop under his chin, tilting his head back. Looking into his eyes, he searched for and found longing.
Snape's breathing had changed, becoming labored and fast, yet silent.
"And two", whispered Harry and leaned forward to kiss Snape on gently on the lips.
He kissed Severus softly, and before the man had a chance to react or open his mouth, Harry pulled away. He wanted to kiss him deeper, but had no reason to believe yet that Snape would welcome him. He lifted his head and looked into Snape's eyes and then smiled.
"Let me know when you are ready", he breathed out, and turned around and walked away without looking back.
Severus stayed on the rock for a while after Harry had left. His lips tingling from the heat of Harry's lips, he traced them with his finger. Swallowing slowly, his hand went to his chest to still he rapidly beating heart, and felt the vials that he had forgotten about.
He hoped that this wasn't Harry's way of saying goodbye. Slowly he stood up and made his way back to his chambers. When he arrived, he poured himself a generous whiskey and stared at the vials, wanting them to release their secrets, but hoping that it wasn't anything bad.
***
A week had gone by and Snape still hadn't looked at the memories. He hated to admit it, but he was terrified. Every night he would look out his window, but the silhouette of the man never showed itself again. So much so, that Snape had to wonder if he had been hallucinating all this time. He only let himself believe all of it was real when his eyes would fall onto the vials left on his bedside table.
He missed Harry. His warm breath, his soft lips. The scent of his aftershave and his voice. Everything about him, he wanted to have back. Just his presence was intoxicating. Next to him, telling him stories that he so desperately wanted to hear. He would at times, feel the heat that would coil in his groin and his heart at the want that he was feeling, and had to swallow it down. He had to be rational. He had to realize that The-Boy-Who-Lived, would never be his.
But then, why had Harry kissed him? What exactly did he want with Severus? Other than to tell him what his part in the war was. But Severus Snape, being of sound mind and a very logical man, knew that there was something else that had led Harry Potter to him. He had wasted enough time just looking at the vials.
He needed to see the contents.
And hadn't Harry told him to let him know when he was ready? Without even realizing what he was ready for, Severus knew that he was. He wanted, needed to be ready. He had denied himself any form of happiness for so long, wasn't it time to turn the page? Wasn't it time to put himself first for a change - to achieve what he wanted? Not having to answer to anyone for anything, other than to say he did it because he wanted to.
He had just had his shower. Pouring himself a generous glass of his liquor, he waved his wand calling his pensieve to him. He would watch the memories tonight. He would dive in head first, and then decide how to proceed. The only thing that he was afraid of, was that he had no idea what they were about, other than the fact that they were his own. But he knew that the time for betrayal was behind him. Harry wouldn't use him like that, hurt him to shatter his mind for his own amusement.
These memories meant something to the hero. And Severus would respect that - and then he would make his decision and let the chips fall where they may.
After gulping his drink down in one go, he dipped his head into his pensieve and waited for the truth to emerge.
***
It had been a little over a week since Harry had heard from the potions master. He wondered if the memories had been seen and if so, was he disgusted? Was he working on a strategy plan to rid himself of Harry, getting himself ready to relay a speech so vile that would have Harry submit to the cruelty of his words?
Or, was he simply biding time on how to approach the situation? That was even if he had seen the memories. Harry knew that it couldn't be easy for Snape. His throat had been ripped open and he had given so many precious things away at the time of his near death experience, so he knew that the man was going to take his time to deal with consequences and/or issues.
Would he be repulsed or finally have the feeling of being free? The one who had served two masters, only for Harry to demand - in a way - his devotion to him now. What was going to be the endgame, and was Harry prepared to be let down?
No, he thought shaking his head. If Severus needed time, then he would grant it. He would never force himself upon someone, he would never demand anything, when Snape had been the one that had been saving him since he could remember.
In his agitation and impatience, Hermoine would tell him to calm down. Severus was probably trying to come to terms with everything himself.
"You need to give him time Harry", she would say softly.
It was later that night when an owl delivered a note.
It was short and sweet and Harry had to reign himself in lest he fall over his own feet.
Harry
Come to me
Severus
Well, if that didn't tell him that the potions master had seen and accepted the memories, what would it take?
***
Severus had expected to see himself in some of the memories that Harry had gifted him, he had expected to see them both in the same memory even. What he had not expected were the feelings that came with said memories.
He saw many times how he had told the savior that he loved him and to stay safe for him. That he needed to come back to him. Which explained how the hero was so comfortable with calling him by his given name instead of addressing him as Professor. It also told Severus that all the feelings were reciprocated.
What he had also not expected was that both men were comfortable with it. Two so called enemies loving and wanting each other? He knew it wasn't a trick or mind magic, because memories could only be changed while inside a mind. This was not the case here. Harry Potter it seemed, was not only an enigma.
He was the reason of there being a large black hole in his chest.
And he wanted it to be filled again - if Harry was the one to fill it, there would be no holding back from him.
Shaking his head after returning from the pensieve, he knew he had to act quickly. It had been longer than a week since his own memories had been given back to him, and if he knew Potter, then the man was probably a nervous wreck by now. He would have to let him know how he felt and that it would be okay to keep loving him.
He sat down at his desk and wrote a short note.
***
The knock on the door was soft. Snape opened it knowing that it was Harry. The man hadn't even bothered to reply his urgent note, but no matter. He was here now.
Staring at the hero through the open door, he could see that his reluctance at watching the memories had taken it's toll on him. Harry looked tired and scared, as if he was going to be reprimanded for what he had done. Like a disobedient school boy waiting for his punishment.
"Harry, thank you for coming", he said and opened the door wider.
Harry pursed his lips together and entered the man's chambers. He stood waiting for Severus to close the door. In all honesty he was a nervous wreck. His hands were shaking, which is why he had decided to hide them in his pockets. He kept his eyes on the floor, only looking up when Severus took hold of his elbow.
"Come, have a seat - we need to talk", said the potions master.
Harry's heart nearly climbed out of his chest. What was the endgame here? If Severus told him to leave and that he never wanted to see him again, he would do as he was told. He would of course tell him that it isn't what he wanted, but if that is what would make him happy, who was he to refuse?
Sitting down in an armchair, Severus offered Harry something to drink.
"Yes thank you - whatever you're having", he replied, his voice thick with tension.
A glass half filled with the golden liquid was put into his hands. With a mumbling thank you, he kept his eyes forward waiting for his companion to sit down so they could talk about the memories.
"Harry...", he started. "Look at me".
Harry turned his head and looked at Snape. He took a sip from his glass and waited with baited breath for the words that he wanted to hear so badly.
"Thank you for looking after my memories. And for giving them back to me", he said.
Harry nodded and took another sip.
"You added in some of your own", he chuckled, remembering what he had seen.
*Memory*
Hermoine how am I going to tell him - it's Snape
You tell him the truth Harry - how many times do I have to say that?
Right - Hey Snape, I think you're hot - wanna fuck?
Harry don't be so crude - we both know you love him for his heart first
Yeah, he's beautiful - everything about him is just....beautiful
Harry - you heard his words - stay safe for me - he feels for you too - just have some faith in that
But what if he doesn't anymore?
Harry, you are overthinking things again.
You're right - I should tell him
Yes you should
Okay - I will - if I don't come home then you will know he either wants to kill me or fuc---
Harry Potter!!
Laughter
*End Memory*
Harry was a mature man, but the blush that he was sporting told Snape another story. What he wouldn't do to take him in his arms and tell him that he had no need for his anxiety. He had no need for his shame because he felt the same way.
"I also looked at the one where you and Miss Granger spoke about soulmates and the Patronus Charm", he stated.
Harry blanched. He swallowed. He smiled. Trying to take back his hold of the conversation, to be the more dominant one, for his words to be comforting and without even thinking, he got to his knees and crawled over to where Severus was sitting.
"And - is it true?", he whispered.
Snape joined him on the floor and cupped his face. "Yes", he said after a long moment of silence.
Harry let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding.
"You seem anxious Harry", said Severus.
Harry shook his head.
"No, not anxious. Just curious", he said repeating Snape's words from many nights ago.
"Curious? About what?", Snape asked.
"About how you taste", whispered Harry and leaned in to kiss the man.
Severus leaned in with him, and when their lips collided it was slow and sensual. Warm and tasting of freedom and sunshine. Harry pulled Snape onto his lap so that his legs were either side of Harry and kept on kissing him. His hands in his hair, while Harry had a firm grip on Snape's shirt pulling him tighter against his chest.
When the kiss ended, both men were breathing heavy.
"Tell me you want this Severus", croaked Harry.
"I do...I want this - ", he whispered back and kissed Harry again, deeper and with soft sounds escaping his hot mouth.
With his hands in Harry's hair, their hot breath chasing each other the kisses turned hot and demanding. A way for them to tell the other to please not leave, don't go anywhere. As if they wanted to crawl inside each other and stay warm together forever.
Harry had his hands on Snape's back, rubbing up and down. When his hands came to the front, he started fumbling with buttons, he needed to reach that soft skin that he had dreamed of so often. He needed to touch what he had been aching for, for so long. He wanted to kiss and mark the skin of the man who loved him, and had done everything in his power to accept his love back. There would be no rejection here, Harry could feel it coming from Severus.
The want and the absolute desperate need to be touched and admired and adored, and everything else that was beautiful in this world.
The clothing slipped off of Severus' shoulders, baring his pale flesh. Harry kissed his jawline, sucked on his throat, nibbled on his shoulders, causing the man on his lap to break out in gooseflesh. His hot tongue moving slowly, taking his time, reveling in every single moment that the both of them deserved.
"Harry...", Severus moaned out throwing his head back. Harry started to lay him down on his back, to be able to reach all of him.
Severus knew that if Harry wanted them naked, he could do so with a snap of his fingers, but something told him that this was going to be slow, and that was okay too. There was no need to rush into anything, they had enough time for loving each other.
The sex was slow, hot and demanding. Their hands gliding over sweaty skin, hot tongues tasting each other in intimate places. Breathing was harsh, but the pounding of a cock inside Snape's arse, and sound of balls slapping against his skin, brought a rush of euphoria to both men, lost in the moment of giving each other the love they so desperately craved and deserved.
"Gods, you are so beautiful", whispered Snape and kissed Harry with hunger just as he was about to orgasm.
Severus held onto him with both hands, the familiar heat of ecstasy coiling in his back, his whole body tingling with unspent desire. His cock remained untouched, the head swollen and almost purple from the pleasure and the build up. With one final thrust inside him hitting his prostate, Snape screamed out his orgasm with an unmatched passion.
His vision became cloudy, his breath hitched in his throat, gods he had never known pleasure so deep and he wanted more and more of it.
Just after Snape's scream, Harry bucked his body, cock still deep inside his lover and pulsed out his own essence into the man underneath him. When he stilled, they kissed slowly again, not wanting to let a moment go to waste with not tasting each other over and over again.
It was the first time of many.
***
Harry wrote to Hermione a week later and told her that Severus had resigned from his teaching post, because Hogwarts could offer nothing more to him. And in all honesty he wasn't really happy here. He had done what he had to - to survive. He had played the game for two masters, and had come out on top a winner.
They bought a piece of land and built a wooden cabin for themselves. A cozy home where they would could lie by the fire on cold evenings making love and making plans for their future.
They almost never spoke about the war. What they had been through they already knew, with each other gifting memories of certain events that they thought they should have.
Like how Harry had broken into Gringotts and escaped on a dragon.
Snape would in turn tell him about what had happened at the Manor the night after he had killed Dumbledore.
It was a sense of freedom in a way, being able to talk about and walk away from what had been holding them back all this time.
Severus thanked the stars every day that he had seen and paid attention to the letter that had been written telling him of a Silhouette of a man.
That man had become the center of his universe.
That man had become the love of his life.
That man had even stopped smoking, thankfully.
***