Summary: Feet have played a very important role in Harry's life.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Severus/Harry
A/N: Deathly What? I don't know of this Deathly Hallows you speak of! Yes, the title is feet. Yes, it does say feet have played an important role in the summary. I know it sounds odd, but go with me. My only warning is that you'd better have your fluff gear on. nods
Feet
Harry had always, since the first time he met the man at eleven, wanted to kick Severus Snape. Punch him too. And once he had finally accepted magic, a hex would've worked wonders, but there came a certain kind of thrill from the skin on skin contact of a punch, of feeling the flesh wince away from your foot as you kicked. So he'd save the hex for after beating the man to a bloody pulp.
He didn't get the chance to do so until he was seventeen though, unsurprisingly during a shouting match after Harry had received proof of the man's continual dedication to the side of light. Fed up with Snape's remarks about his father and how he was just as much of a stuck up prat, Harry punched him in the jaw.
The silence seemed to last forever as Snape lifted his hand to his jaw, shock written over his features plainly, Harry watching in horror. Then rage took over and they soon found themselves wandless and trying to kill each other with their bare hands.
That's when Harry's foot connected with Snape's groin in a most intimate way. As the older man fell to the floor, his own foot wasted no time in repaying the favor to Harry.
As they both curled on the floor in mutual agony, they formed a sort of truce, one that lasted past the war and fired Harry to make sure the man could not only walk away without punishment for killing Albus Dumbledore and doing his duties under Voldemort, but with an Order of Merlin First Class for his service.
A year later after a perfectly dreadful Ministry Gala honoring the survivors or the victims or something to do with the Dark Lord in a ploy to raise money, Harry once more found himself confronted with the foot that had put him in enough pain to agree to the truce.
Severus was recovering still from injuries, and standing around for hours at a Gala was no way to heal. His leg, which he had nearly lost, was in a terrific amount of pain, and it had taken some sort of miracle, they decided later, to get them away from the crowds and back to Grimmuald place, up the stairs, and into Severus' rooms.
Laughing and joking, Harry managed to get Severus out of his unforgiving dragonhide boots and dress robes, down to nothing more than a simple pair of shorts. Then he began to massage the other man's leg and foot, just as the Healers had instructed.
The firm touches of a healing massage soon became more, and Harry lost his virginity that night.
Now a hundred years later, an almost bald Ron sat next to him in the kitchen, complaining loudly about Hermione and Ginny's latest adventures in trying to buy shoes while dragging him along. Harry had been staring out of the window for most of the conversation, looking away only to nod and run his fingers through his graying hair and sip his tea.
A noise near the entrance of the kitchen, made him look up and smile slightly as his partner shuffled into the kitchen muttering under his breath, strands of white hair escaping the cord and falling into his face. He sat at the table, directly across from Harry and poured himself a cup of tea, not even gracing Ron with a glance from his black eyes. Harry reached out a foot casually and brushed it up against Severus. Soon he had both his feet locked around one of Severus' ankles, as Severus' other socked foot rubbed up and down his calf softly.
"I really do hate women and feet," Ron muttered from next to him, sipping his tea. Harry grinned and looked out the window again.
"I don't know Ron. Feet aren't all that bad," he replied casually.
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