In the early hours of the morning, there was a small window of time where the sun rose in the east while the moon was still visible in the west.
The sun was glorious with the soft pink and orange streaks it painted the skies with. The moon was equally exquisite as it kissed its lover farewell and drifted away with the shadows.
For a short time - there were both representatives of light and dark cohabitating the same sky. They didn’t fight for control, they didn’t mar the beauty of the other.
They were equals, gifting the earth with their delicate dance of light and dark.
It inspired hope to all men with dark hearts who chased after the warmth of a kind lover. It stroked their hair and whispered to them, “You too can achieve this.”
Severus did not want a small window of time with his lover so filled with light. He could not bear to have only a brief longing filled moment together; Severus wanted an eternity.
Severus found him where he knew he would, where he always found him when he sought him out. This time, Severus came prepared to take Harry with him. His duty to protect Harry had not ended with the war, if anything, it was more needed than ever before.
Harry sat on the ground of the Forbidden Forest and peered at the ground before him, hardly looking up when Severus approached.
“I died there,” Harry whispered, nodding to where Severus knew from tales that Harry had been struck down by the Dark Lord.
Severus put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, smiling softly when Harry’s head snapped up to look from Severus’ hand. Those eyes traveled slowly from Severus’ hand to his face and Severus saw the shock in Harry’s eyes.
“I know,” Severus told him. He squeezed Harry’s shoulder gently, allowing a tiny gasp to escape from between Harry’s lips. “Come, I can no longer allow you to do this any longer.”
“Come where?” Harry asked as he rose to his feet with none of the awkward fumbling he used to display in Severus’ classroom. Gone were the gangling limbs of adolescence, the uncertainty that youth had in their heads and hearts.
Harry was every bit a man as he followed Severus out of the forest. His face that had never been round as his classmates, still hardened into something that was neither James Potter nor Lily Evans. Harry’s body had the sinewy lines that spoke of muscles that would return if Harry followed a steady diet.
Severus would ensure that Harry was never haunted by hunger or fatigue again if he were able. With the war over, with the Dark Lord dead, with Severus and Harry’s terrible tasks completed, Severus desired nothing more than to take the younger man and care for him.
He would wrap Harry in a quilt, spoon feed him any decadent treat he desired, then hold him as he slept and fight any nightmare that dared try and disturb him.
There would be no more dedicated lover than Severus would be to Harry. Harry would never have to voice a complaint before Severus would resolve it.
Harry merely had to allow it.
Severus held his hand at his side when they exited the forest and Harry blinked slowly in the sunshine.
“Do you trust me?” he asked Harry putting weight behind his words and love behind his eyes.
Harry looked at the hand being offered to him and slowly nodded.
“I do,” he said.
Severus grasped his hand and they disappeared from the grounds together.
Harry may have trusted Severus enough to leave with him, but it was where his trust ended.
Severus tried to care for Harry, Harry rebuffed him. Severus spoke gently while Harry raved and paced. Severus preached acceptance, Harry demanded answers.
It was a small mercy that Harry craved touch like a thirsty man craves the cool taste of water. Every time Severus touched Harry, the boy melted beneath him while appearing so shocked.
“Nobody else touches me like this,” Harry whispered when they were wrapped together tightly on the bed. Severus ran his hand up and down Harry’s arm, trying to chase away the chill that plagued Harry with his love and attention.
“I will touch you in any way that you desire,” Severus told him. Harry turned toward him and hardly blinked before his lips went crashing down on Severus’.
It was a burning ember that built to a raging inferno. If Severus’ touches were soft blankets to warm Harry, their passion was a fire so blessed it could not be stopped.
Harry was anxious to reveal himself, disgusted by the scars that marred his body.
“I’m broken,” he said in a plaintive tone.
Severus exposed himself slowly, lifting Harry’s fingers to trace every scar on his body.
“These were hard won and I bear them with pride,” Severus told Harry. “Every scar tells a story of a time when someone tried to defeat me and I came out victorious.”
Harry willingly moved his fingers from the scar on Severus’ collarbone to the one on his neck. Severus lifted Harry’s chin so he could look in those enchanting eyes as he gave him a hard truth.
“I do not regret even those,” Severus told him. “The scars there tell a different story. It tells a story of a man who did unspeakable things in life and was redeemed only by a sacrifice.”
Harry traced Severus’ neck with all the gentleness that Severus never expected from the reckless boy.
“No more sacrifices,” Harry said; an order.
“Never again,” Severus fervently agreed.
After that first night when their bodies collided as was surely predestined, Harry became more accepting of Severus’ tender ministrations.
Mildly more accepting.
“I’m not a child,” Harry snapped when Severus drew him a bath. Severus merely smiled indulgently when Harry sniffed curiously at the perfumed oils Severus added.
“Will it… will it feel nice?” he asked with his eyes flicking between Severus and the steaming tub.
“Only one way to find out,” Severus told him. He smoothed Harry’s fringe from his forehead and pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s forehead. “I enjoy it.”
And so did Harry.
When Harry cried out, unable to rest or escape the thoughts that haunted him, Severus spoke softly to him.
He told him stories of Lily; he spoke of her kindness, her courage, her quirks, and her flaws.
“You loved her,” Harry whispered.
Severus held Harry tightly to his side and wrapped him in a quilt.
“I love you,” Severus said as a simple offering that went to his core.
Harry was always restless, always itching for something to do.
Severus set him to task, instructing him to help clean and decorate their home.
“Imagine how you wish for it to look,” Severus guided him. “Whatever you desire is what will come to be.”
A sparkle of Harry’s former mischief - oh the mischief that made Severus wild when he had been burdened by teaching the boy - returned and Severus laughed gaily at the decor he created.
“I will not live in a greenhouse, Harry,” Severus said, scolding him fondly. He plucked one of the pale flowers and tucked it in Harry’s ear before kissing the tip of his nose.
“It’s better than the Shrieking Shack,” Harry said.
Severus smiled indulgently.
“So it is.”
And the plants stayed, painting the walls and beams of the ceiling in their floral ornaments.
“Can we do something today?” Harry asked once, fidgeting with needless worry while his eyes avoided meeting Severus’.
“Certainly,” Severus told him. He grasped Harry’s hand and gave his love a true smile. “We are not prisoners, but free, my love. You and I are free for the first time in our lives. We can do anything you wish.”
Harry nodded and then finally looked deep in Severus’ eyes.
“I want to see the others,” he said quietly. “I- I have to.”
“Then we will go,” Severus told him. It was promise he offered with a chaste kiss. “Together.”
They started with Fred Weasley.
The grave for the mischievous boy that had been a never ending headache to Severus in life was just as grand. No expense had been spared on the great tombstone that was a deep shining purple.
Harry stepped forward when he spotted a head of red hair sitting on the ground, speaking softly to the grave.
“No,” Severus said, holding Harry back gently. “Leave them to mourn alone.”
“But…” Harry stared at the mourner for a long moment before he sighed softly. “Yeah, I don’t think they’d be very pleased to see me.”
Severus held Harry and they listened as George Weasley filled his brother’s grave in on everything Fred was missing in the land of the living. Harry’s shoulders slumped and he eventually looked up to Severus.
“We can go,” he said bleakly.
Harry took them to Remus and Nymphadora Lupin’s graves next. Severus watched as Harry traced a pale finger over the word ‘father’ engraved on Remus’ side of their shared memorial.
“He was so happy when I saw him in person last,” Harry told Severus absently. He knelt on the grass that covered their tombs and shuddered. “I saw him in the forest too, he said he was at peace.”
Severus carefully lifted Harry from the ground when the sobs began wracking his body and choking him.
“We should go home,” Severus told him.
Harry shook his head, “One more,” he said through his broken cries.
Severus sighed at his beautiful and broken boy.
“One more, Harry.”
Severus knew where they would appear before they left the Lupin’s graves.
In his heart, he knew that Harry would take him to the place that would hurt them both the most.
They arrived in the Godric Hollow cemetery and held each other tightly as they walked through the shadows to stand before the graves.
Harry dropped to his knees, dragging Severus down with him.
“Mum.” Harry traced Lily’s name etched in marble.
“Dad.” He traced James’ name as gently as a priest with a holy relic.
Harry touched those names like Severus touched their son.
“I miss them,” Harry told Severus. He blindly grabbed Severus’ hand and placed it over his chest. “In here,” Harry explained, “it aches with how much they miss me.”
“How much you miss them,” Severus corrected Harry.
“No.” Harry’s voice was as soft as the whispering wind that eternally followed Severus. “It’s how much they miss me.”
Before they went home, Severus left a single flower on the three graves.
While Harry was despondent and more restless than ever after their tour of the dead, he was as passionate toward Severus as ever.
There was nothing they did without the other. They danced together, they read together, they tended to their home together.
They fit what was meant to be a lifetime of love in that time, making up for all that they lost in each others touch and love and assurances.
It was why it was a cold shock to Severus when he opened his eyes and did not find Harry beside him one morning.
Severus ran outside, frantically searching for his lover.
He could not have left… he would not have…
It did not take long for Severus to find him, he had hardly exited the shack that they had worked so hard to make a home for the two of them.
“Harry!” he cried with relief when he saw the boy standing beneath a ray of the rising sun. Severus stepped up to him and wrapped arms around his torso, clutching him tightly from behind. “I thought I lost you,” he murmured.
Severus pressed his lips to the top of Harry’s head, marveling in how Harry fit his body as if the Gods in the sky created him just for Severus. A reward he never deserved, but always desired.
“I have to go,” Harry whispered. Severus’ stomach dropped when Harry turned and looked up at him with eyes swimming in unshed tears and remorse. “I can’t stay here.”
“You can,” Severus said quickly. He readjusted his hold on Harry, circling his arms around Harry’s waist so they could stand face-to-face as lovers and equals. “You can stay here with me, Harry,” he said, pleading for the last of Severus’ happiness to not leave him. “Please?”
Harry reached up and traced the bone beneath Severus’ eye with his thumb while he continued to mourn without spilling any tears.
“I can’t,” Harry said brokenly. “But you can come with me, can’t you?”
Severus shook his head, feeling small for his admission. “I cannot,” he said, his own voice breaking with all the pain roiling through his body. “But you can stay, Harry. We can have forever together.”
“You’d make me choose?” Harry asked him softly. “Between you and them? I thought… I thought you loved me…”
“I do,” Severus assured him quickly. He peppered Harry’s face with soft kisses, leaving behind his love every time his lips touched Harry’s face. “That is why I want you to stay,” he whispered. “Please?”
Harry smiled serenely while the light blessed him with its touch.
“I can’t,” he said. His hand fluttered as it raised to his chest. His fingers danced over his heart. “They’re calling me, Severus. I have to go.”
“Then I will come too,” Severus said. He tilted his face to the skies and screamed it, “I WILL GO WITH HIM!”
Harry’s face lit up and Severus’ concern that Harry was eager to leave him diminished. Harry would never seem so pleased if it were not his desire to take Severus with him.
“Do you trust me?” Harry asked, offering Severus his hand. There was no hesitation, no doubt. Severus grasped his hand and shared a look filled with love with Harry.
“I do,” Severus said.
Harry’s form faded away with the peaceful wash of a soul passing from one world to the next and Severus closed his eyes, waiting to be taken to the afterlife with his lover.
When Severus opened his eyes - he was alone on earth once more.
“No,” Severus gasped, looking down at his empty hand. “No! NO!” Severus hit his knees and raised his face to the skies. “TAKE ME WITH HIM! I’M READY NOW! MY WORK HERE IS DONE!”
A whisper of wind was the only reply Severus received. It mocked him with its playful movements, tossing his hair about in a dance of agony.
“You chose to stay and he chose to leave,” it teased him. “It is our choices that define us.”
Severus dropped his head to the ground and screamed his frustrations and agony in the dirt.
“Bring him back,” Severus demanded. He pounded his fist on the grass that never tickled his skin. “Please, BRING HIM BACK!”
It was all for naught. Severus could scream and cry and beg and plead. He could barter - one hundred souls for the return of just one. He could change his mind that had been so certain all those months ago when he’d been bitten by Nagini - he was ready to pass on now.
Severus fought with the deities in the sky and he lost.
Lost Harry.
Lost love.
Lost himself.
When the sun rose further in the east and the moon was still high in the west, Severus realized that he had never understood the complexities of the dance they graced the skies with.
The sun was not the lighthearted lover in the dance, eternally moving out of reach of the moon. The sun was the lover so desperate he blazed with heat as he continued to chase what he could never hope to catch.
No matter how hard the sun worked, how brightly it radiated in its fervor, it would never be one with the moon. When the two shared the grandest stage available, it was not a story of hope, but one of heartbreak.
The sun would always rise in the east while the moon left it in the west.
“You too will always feel this,” the sun whispered.