Harry was a mess; he was sweaty and couldn’t care less for it. He marched through the hallway, passing everyone that seemed to be calling out for him. How could they not understand at this point. His friends at least knew when to leave him be or to smack him up against his head. This time though, they weren’t sure exactly how to take it.
Hermione had not returned for the final year, while Ron had. Hermione had tested out and accepted a job for the unspeakables while Ron and Harry had decided to return. It was the middle of term, while Hermione had been able to get away after a finishing her training – it had been short from what Harry could guess from it. And she had decided to sit in on some lesson’s, Harry wasn’t sure why she wanted to suffer through class while she had taken off to start her life.
There had been a mutual understanding after the war and for all returning eighth years, and one thing that had shocked everyone, was that Severus Snape had returned. It was strange, since he had his throat ripped out. But what, if not prepared, of the double agent. There hadn’t even been a trial, with Kingsley Shacklebolt, he had looked at Snape’s memories and dismissed all charges that were stacked.
Harry had been relieved to say the least, he had been ready to fight tooth and nail to get Severus Snape released.
It came more of a shocked when after he woken from his coma and walked to the dungeons. A shock to Harry at very least. He had stayed by his bedside. Waiting for any change. When Madam Pomfrey came to his side, a rolled-up newspaper as she swatted him up against the shoulder, telling him to leave before he was to join Snape in the next bed by him.
Now Harry was storming down the hallway, his books under one arm. He had enough watched the scene that unfolded in front of his eyes. Snape whispering quietly with the new person that had started a few weeks ago. He wasn’t completely sure of her name, only that she had taken up a lot of Severus’s time in class and outside.
After Snape had woken up from his coma and fled to the dungeons. Harry had sought him out. Bring tea and Blancmange that he had gotten Kretcher to make. And it had come to a surprise from the house elf that Harry had asked him to join him at Hogwarts, even more when he had asked him to help if Severus had needed it.
Let’s just say that Kretcher had waited on him, hand, and foot. Only to be shooed away whenever Harry had arrived. A smile on his face and another tray of whatever he could get his hands onto.
He felt a smack to his head later that night, in a form of Hermione that had a heavy tome of a book from the library that she was inhaling every word of. “What was that for?” He asked, rubbing the back of his head.
Sputtering, “I shouldn’t have to explain my self when you made a complete arse of yourself in potions today.”
Harry had only stared at her in confusion. Now he had done no such thing. “And before you say that. You were completely rude to Hope. When all she wanted was to catch up from where she was behind.”
Harry only stared at her; he had no idea that was her name. “That’s her name?” He asked, dumbfounded.
“For merlin’s sake Harry, can you be anymore dense?” She asked. Rambling on, but all Harry’s mind went to the way that Snape’s hand when it squeezed her shoulder. The pat on the back as she finished a potion. The small smile that played on his lips, the exact one that was on his lips when Harry had cracked some joke. “Are you even listening to me?” She asked, huffing out. Catching Harry’s mind going a mile a minute.
“Huh?” He asked.
“I said go talk to him. You to have grown to be friends, that’s what friends to.” She said, shooing him away from the command area.
He trudged along the hallways; it wasn’t quite curfew yet and he needed to see Snape before he had gone to bed. Hermione had been right, he needed to talk this through with the man before they end up back in sixth year. At each other’s throats, and ready to kill the other.
The hallways were quiet as his feet echoed throughout. When he came up to the door that cause all his worries, for the man that was to be the blame for what a foul mood he had been in for the past few weeks. Harry scolded himself, he really had been dense and a bit of an arsehole. There had been no reason for him to be acting this way. None at all. Well, none that made any sense to Harry.
He knocked, tentatively. Slightly nervous for the other to answer the door. Harry didn’t understand the heat rising to his cheeks or the moisture that formed on his hand.
After a few minutes of waiting, he knocked again. Harder this time, shaking his head as he thought to the first knock. Thinking back to it, he wasn’t sure if the other would have even heard it.
He was only subjected to stand there a few more moments before the door slowly opened. On the other side, holding the person in question. His professor. With a raised eyebrow, he held his hand up. Motioning him inside the doorway. Harry taken the opportunity to scurry inside under the man’s arm. With a whispered thanks before he comes face first at the sight before him.
There in the sitting room, was none other than Hope. The girl that Harry had been jealous of these past months. And that smacked him in the face at the realisation. He was jealous. Jealous of a girl that had stolen a man’s attention. A man’s attention that he had loathed for the better part of six years.
“You.” He whispered; his voice broken as if he hadn’t spoken in several weeks.
The girl instantly perked up at being acknowledged. Placing her teacup down on the coffee table before bouncing up to come stand in front of Harry. Harry taken a step back, bumping into the man that has no reason to make Harry jealous.
Hope bounces up and down, patting the sofa cushion next to her. Harry couldn’t help himself but smile at her excitement. She was really just a young girl. “She’s heard lots about you.” He heard the deep voice speak; breezing passed him as he goes to take a seat in the armchair beside the sofa. Picking up the glass that had amber liquid inside.
He nodded, “Hope, is it?” She only bounced more at his acknowledgement.
“Yes, you’re Harry. Harry Potter.” She started jabbering a mile a minute that Harry had only caught every other word. When he noticed that Severus leaned forward in his spot. Placing a hand on her forearm. Heat bubbled inside his stomach as Harry watched the intimate touch.
“Why don’t you head up to your dorm, I would like to speak to Mr. Potter.” There was no hatred or animosity that had normally showed when speaking in regards of Harry. Hope quickly nodded, picking up her book bag and skipped towards Harry. Before he knew it, he was ingulfed into a bear hug where she was squeezing him tightly.
Coughing when she let go to not show he had been hurt during the hug. She skipped out. The door closing with a thud to show they were alone.
Harry scrunched his eyes together, “so what is it that you wanted to speak to me about?” Squaring his own shoulders, turning towards the man in question. He acquired his glass again, taking a long sip from it. Harry could only watch as he swallowed. The column of his neck, pale white apart from the lining of scares from Nagini. He cringed as flash backs invaded his mind eye. There had been so much blood, that he couldn’t stop. Only for it to dry up during his own final moments living. He had it under his nails for days after. Trying to scrub it from his skin only for it to be covered in his own blood.
He didn’t realise he had been staring blankly until Snape clear his throat. Harry meets his gaze, to see one eyebrow raised. Luckily for Harry he ignored questioning and motioned him to sit on the couch. “To your question, Mr. Potter.” He tilted his glass to cheer at Harry. “And you actually coming to me.”
Harry blanched at that, of course. He couldn’t forget. How could he when he tried his hardest to. Harry hadn’t been to come and collective that he had been coming down to the man’s rooms tonight. He been lashing out in his own self-destructive way that had cause a few questioning stares from the other teachers. The only thing that had saved him from detention was when he had overheard McGonagall speaking to Snape while he waits on the other side of the door. Waiting for his punishment.
“Severus, I must implore, he has become reckless. I’m afraid worse than the last few years.” Her tone sharp, with a level of concern laced with them.
“And you don’t think I know that, Minerva? Do you know how many potions he has failed since this behaviour had started?” He could hear the disappointment. Guilt raged through him, misguided anger bubbling up inside him. It was Snape’s fault. It is always Snape’s fault.
There were hush words that Harry didn’t hear.
“I’ll handle it. He has blown one too many cauldrons for my liking.” There was a scoff, “even before he showed I an improvement since Slughorn became the potions professor. There were less potions he actually blew up.” Harry wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not.
Harry squirms his seat. Hating the attention of his wrong doings being brought up. Snape noticed; he didn’t comment on it. Only gotten to his feet before retreating towards the side of the room. Harry didn’t watch him, only staring at his lap. Questioning where his courage had gone. It evaporated right when he had sat down.
Scooting back until his back hits the couch cushion. It was a few minutes before Severus was back, leaning his hip against the back of the couch. Holding up a glass for Harry to take. He gripped it, hoping like hell that he didn’t drop it. Gripping tightly, taking a sip. Spluttering when the burn hit his throat.
Hearing a chuckle as the man rounded the couch. Not taking up he normal spot that he was just in but on the other end of the couch that Harry had been sitting on. Leaning back to pull a leg up to rest on his knee. He taken his own sip from his glass.
Harry could only watch as Snape swirled the contents. Waiting for the other man to speak. He only did when Harry leaned back slightly, stiffly. “You want to tell me what your issue is with Hope, or will I have to get the answer myself?” His voice was harsh, as if he had slapped Harry. He snapped his head back, turning towards him.
“What makes you say I have an issue with her?” He questioned, knowing he was being deflective. He couldn’t help when Snape came at him like this. Snape taken a larger gulp of his drink. Almost draining it completely.
He rests it against his ankle. The one resting on top of his knee. “From the looks and scoffs you give when she is around, Mr. Potter.”
Harry was taken aback by that. He had done no such thing. And he thought it was quite rude of Snape to be accusing him of such things. He told him so.
He gotten an eye roll and a raised eyebrow in response. “And I am the queen of England.” Sarcasm laced his words at the overuse of the statement.
“I do not scoff at her.”
“Only towards her then.” Snape countered. Dammit. He couldn’t win in any mind games that the man had.
“I do not, Snape.” Harry could the edge in his own voice. The burning heat in his gut returning at being accused of something that he was clearly doing without knowing it.
Severus looked towards his drink. Harry stopped breathing when he felt his arm landing on the back of the sofa. He knew the other man knew but the slight curve of his lips. Slowly he started moving, inching towards Harry.
Harry couldn’t move, in both needing and wanting to feel the other mans fingers run along his clothed skin.
It taken an eternity before he felt pressure. It was warm over his clothes. Harry watched as it skimmed over his shoulder, down his bicep. Small strokes. Little motions that were going to sent him over the edge if he didn’t watch himself.
Harry was struck stupid when at lighting speed that hand was cupping his chin between his finger and thumb. Pulling him closer to the other. Tsking at him, and all Harry could do was wet his dry lips. Severus watch the motion. Tracking it with his eyes before he brought them back to Harry. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to – that had been the last thing on his mind. Severus leaned forward, but not towards Harry. But to set his glass on the coffee table. The other hand coming up to draw lines down Harry’s temple to his cheek. “Mr. Potter,” he drawled. His warm breath casting over his face. Sending heat down his own spine.
Struggling, only falling short. Ending to where he had his back to the arm rest, Severus hovering over him. “Let, me go.” He commanded; it was more of a squeak.
“And why would I do that?” He inquired. Sliding his hand back to his shoulder. Pulling him closer to him. “What are you going to do if I don’t?” Harry’s eyebrows scrunch together. Where had this ordeal gone? They were just having a conversation. Well, their own version of it. But now Snape was pretty much in his lap, holding onto him.
All Harry could think of was crossing the distance to close the gap between them. Severus was like a hawk, watching Harry in all of his movements. He felt miniature in this moment.
“I think I know why you’re acting this way.” His voice sultry. Sending prickling heat across his skin. His breath still spreading over Harry’s cheek. He leaned forward, making contact with his ear. Breathing deeply, that was sending all types of inappropriate thoughts to his groin. He whimpered when he heard the next words whispered in his ear. Loving what his voice was doing. “You’re jealous.”
As fast as everything happened, he was gone even quicker. Sitting back with his glass to his lips. Harry couldn’t help but fall back to the arm of the couch. He was breathing harder than he should have been with only minimal contact.
When his breathing subsided to something he could play off as normal. He turned murderous eyes to Severus. For making him feel this way. For feeling this heat in his lower belly. The conflicting thoughts that wash over his own body at the attention he places on the new student. “I hate you.” He couldn’t help but let out. He was wrung out from all the feelings he was having. He didn’t get up though. That would be admitting defeat, that Harry didn’t want to do.
Severus only responded after emptying his glass. “Doesn’t change the facts.”
Harry was speechless, not knowing what to even say in response to him. When Severus peaks down at him, Harry could only nod. It was a small nod, short and curt.
“There’s no need for petty feelings.”
That made Harry shoots up, nearly knocking Snape over the side of the couch. “Petty feelings!” His voice hurting his own ears. “Says that man that spends too much time with a thirteen-year-old.” Pointing his own finger at him.
Severus watched Harry, his own meltdown as he goes through the motions. It was good, something that he wanted the younger man to do. He needs him to break down those flimsy walls in order for Severus to do anything to help build them back up with his own door to open up for him.
When Harry finished his grumbling, intelligible words. He was panting, his fist was tightly round his knees. Gripping to the point of pain. Severus leans forward, prying his hands from the death grip. Laying one in Harry’s lap while the other he laced his fingers into. Harry taken noticed of the action and stared down at their clasped fingers. “You finished, Mr. Potter?” Harry could only nod. He shakes his own head at the emotion that washed over him. He wasn’t used to giving anyone information unless it was precedent to the mission at hand. Giving Harry his memories had been the final piece to the puzzle with the Dark Lord demise.
He made circles against the back of his hand, only frowning down at it as his fingers roamed over the scar that was there. He opened his mouth to say something, just to snap it shut at the look Harry was giving him. Don’t bloody ask. He moved on, his fingers skimming over Harry’s own that were laced with his other hand. “There is no reason to be jealous, Harry.” He spoken. Harry stopped, motionless. Not breathing.
“That is the first time you have ever called me by my actual name.” His voice small, as if afraid to break the moment they were in.
“It was easier to call you by your given name.” He countered. “I was able to keep my distance then.”
“Why did you want to keep your distance?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.
Snape met his eye before returning it to their clasped hands. A few silent moments, he broken it. “Because it helped to keep my traitorous thoughts from running away from me.”
Harry’s face twisted in confusion. Not understanding what his professor was saying. “What are you saying?” He asked.
He peaked back at Harry, gaining courage in Harry being unaware of his thunderous thoughts. “The same reason for your jealousy, I suppose.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “That’s not… I am not jealous.”
“Then what do you call it?” Quirking an eyebrow. “Your tantrums, your attitude whenever I pay attention to a certain individual?”
“They are not tantrums.” He snapped. Severus smirked at his response.
“Mr. Potter, it would be easier if you just admit the issue than running around it.” He shifted himself, scooting down to what Harry could only assume is a slouch. In no way had it been so. “And I can help with it.”
Harry was tired already, wanting this to be over. Where was the heated moment just a while ago? It was gone and replace with Harry feeling more vulnerable than he had been. “I am.” He sighed, dropping his chin to his chest.
He saw fingers pulling his chin up to meet his eyes. There was a storm behind the dark eyes. “There is no reason for it, Harry.”
“I know cause there’s nothing there. You only see me as some child throwing a tantrum.”
Snape tsked. “I hate to break it to you, but you have no idea what I see you as.” He was stern but not harsh. “I saw you take the final steps when you faced the Dark Lord.” He began. “I saw how you taken your last breath before he had used the killing curse on you. Harry.” He dropped his gaze quickly but when it snapped to his not a second later, the storm raged in his eyes. “I saw the bravest man that had not just once faced this monster but had done so without raising his wand.” If Harry didn’t know any better, he would say there was a wavering in his voice that cracked something in his own chest.
“But…” He wasn’t sure on what he would say. The words caught in his own throat.
“No buts Harry, I don’t see a child. And this is where other will say I am a monster for thinking these thoughts.” He shakes his head, taking a deep breathe before he continues. “I haven’t for many years. Since you had faced the Dark Lord in that graveyard.” He voices quieting, it was a whisper at his last confession.
“But,” Harry’s mind was roaming through so many memories that were swirling in his head. “What about Hope?”
He chuckled at the circle that Harry made. He saw the frown that casted his own features harshly. “Like I said Mr. Potter, there’s no reason to be jealous of her.” Before Harry could protest further, he cut him off. “Because Hope is my daughter.”
And so many things clicked inside Harry’s mind, but also what crashed it all the same.