Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or the characters/places mentioned throughout. I wish I did, but I don't.
Warnings: Angst, swearing and sexual themes. All the good stuff.
A/N: I wrote this all in one day, which was fun. It wasn't really planned out or anything, which is why some parts may seem kinda blegh compared to the rest. Obviously the characters are gonna be a little out, but I did kinda try. The whole story focuses on after Voldemort's demise, just minus Severus' death, because I much prefer him alive. This is just one of my many theories about what could have been :) I hope there is some enjoyment.
No, he wasn't having second thoughts about his relationship with his girlfriend. No, he wasn't questioning why he put up with his best friend. No, he wasn't about to suffer through a complete break down because no one seemed to even see him. No, the Boy Who Lived wasn't falling apart, because the Boy Who Lived couldn't fall apart.
Who was he kidding? He, Harry Potter, could barely hold it all together.
Seventeen, back at school learning things he already knew, surrounded by teachers trying to put their lives back together and students who worshipped him. He was only there to get the qualifications he didn't really need to start his job at the Ministry. Though, if he could have thought of anything else he could have possibly done, other than teaching, he would have done it. Fighting dark wizards just didn't seem appealing at all anymore.
After defeating the Dark Lord, things had been difficult to say the least. Lives that had been ruined had to be pieced back together. Buildings were rebuilt, given a new coat of paint, and the dark memories they held were pushed away. If only he could repair his life in the same way.
The moon shone through the windows as he walked past them. He was out far too late, that much was clear. He couldn't bring himself to care though, all the teachers would let him off if he was caught. He saved the world after all.
"Potter." The dark voice twisted the word with a mixture of contempt, arrogance, and other emotions Harry couldn't quite place. "May I enquire as to why you are still out at this hour?"
"You may." He was asking for trouble, it was written in everything from his tone to the way he stood. The way the older man's lip curled told him it was working.
"I hope you don't assume I won't be punishing you, Potter." Black eyes bore into green, trying to fight the defiance they found there.
"No, I just assume you can't do worse than what I've already been through." The flippant reply earned him a dark glare. He was enjoying himself, for more than the thrill of finally being able to let go of some of the emotions bottled inside.
The rustling of clothes accompanied a sharp movement, Harry suddenly finding himself bound by magical ropes. Still fear refused to enter him, the same defiance flaring in his eyes as he leveled them on the figure now directly in front of him.
"I could break you Potter." That made him laugh, a dark and hollow sound. He let all the walls fall, his mask fading away in that one bitter show of mirth. Turning eyes empty of scorn, empty of any emotion, to the man before him, he was surprised to see no change in his face. Nothing to show he had registered the change in the young man before him.
"You can't break someone who's already broken." Even those words had no effect. No sign of sympathy or regret, no remorse for the loss of the man that could have filled the shell that Harry had become. No anger at how empty the green eyes he had loved were now. Not even happiness to see the torment on the face he had hated for so many years. Nothing.
"You don't know a single thing, Potter."
"Harry."
"What?"
"My name is Harry." The rebellious spirit was back, worming its way into his words. Or was it that he was sick of being known for his parents, their ghosts hanging off him like corporeal things. He wasn't even sure himself.
"Detention, Potter." The ropes fell into nothingness, Snape already walking away. "My office, after dinner." He didn't even turn to issue his orders, barely even paused long enough to get all the words out before he was striding down the hall.
For a long moment Harry simply watched him, silently wondering if he'd obey. Eventually he decided he would, if only to be around someone who didn't care. He wouldn't have to pretend, wouldn't have to hide. It was strangely comforting, knowing he could let go around the man who despised him most.
Walking slowly towards his dorm, Harry let his thoughts churn. Some he would face, others he would not. Most were things he couldn't comprehend, wouldn't comprehend. There were some things he couldn't even admit to himself. The Boy Who Lived couldn't be that messed up.
Harry couldn't name how he got through the next day. Classes with people he silently hated, meals with the two people he had come to resent. The way it all grated on his nerves, it was a miracle it wasn't painfully clear to everyone around him.
Each time he was in the dining hall, his eyes automatically drifted to the teachers' table, searching for the gaze of one particular man. He couldn't deny the disappointment he felt when the other man never looked back, never showed a single sign of acknowledging his existence. Just like everyone else, Snape didn't see him, he just didn't see the man Harry was trying to be either.
"What's wrong Harry, you keep looking at the head table?" Ginny slid in beside him, placing a kiss on his lips he didn't really feel.
"Just keeping an eye on Snape." It wasn't a lie, so he didn't have to feel guilt. He had enough of that with the daily 'I'm okay' lies.
"Why?" Hermione looked away from Ron long enough to ask, eyes already dancing back to her boyfriend before Harry had even begun to answer.
"He gave me detention, tonight after dinner." This got Ron's attention, ensuring Hermione's. "So I'm keeping an eye so I know when to leave."
"What for?" Not willing to share his nightly walks alone, Harry quickly thought of a lie.
"Old times sake I guess." He shrugged, relying on Ron's hatred for the professor. It worked.
Ron delved into a rant about the older man, calling him numerous names that got him in trouble with Hermione. Ginny simply wrapped an arm around Harry, nuzzling into his neck affectionately. A wave of hot guilt washed through him. He cared enough to feel guilty, but not enough to be honest. A dose of self loathing chased the guilt down nicely.
Sensing the movement even before he saw it, Harry managed to be on his feet the same instant as Snape. Still the older man didn't look at him, his back the only thing Harry was shown as they walked down to his dungeon office.
Harry was left standing in the doorway as Snape made his way around his desk, sitting himself comfortably before raising his eyes to the younger man. Resisting the urge to cross his arms, Harry glared at the man in front of him.
"Clean those cauldrons in the corner, no magic." Snape had turned to the essays awaiting marks before the last of his words had left his lips. The dismissal was so clear, so impersonal, it actually stung. Shaking off the feeling of hurt, Harry moved to the small pile Snape had indicated. Finding cleaning materials beside it, he couldn't help but groan. He'd be here all night.
"Is there a problem Potter?" His voice begged there would be, the tone wanting to instigate a fight.
"No, sir." Harry refused to turn, refused to rise to the bait, even as the anger inside demanded to be released. Emotions swirled in him, each clamoring for his attention. Unfortunately the rage won out. "I love the idea of wasting my evening cleaning."
"Maybe that'll teach you to stay in bed at night, Potter."
"Harry."
"Don't assume I will ever respect you enough to use your first name, Potter."
"I call you Professor, sir." Their voices remained neutral, neither rising above the casual tone Snape had original adopted.
"You call me 'Snape' to your little friends, Potter, don't pretend you don't." Harry didn't question how the Potions Master knew, it wasn't really that surprising. Spies had to be good at gathering intelligence.
"Fine," a wicked grin suddenly pulled at Harry's lips. "How about I call you Severus, will you call me Harry then?"
"You'll pay for your insolence." Harry watched as Snape's eye twitched, revealing the anger he was trying so hard to suppress.
"There's nothing you can do to me." The young man shrugged, turning back to the cauldrons as though they had never spoken.
There was no warning. No murmured incantation, no telltale swish of a wand. The smirk fell from Harry's face, the harsh feel of another presence in his head putting him off guard. Memories flashed rapidly, quickly rising to the surface. Images he had buried, thoughts he had discarded, were brought forth and viewed.
Moments with Ginny were replayed, the intensity of the image not matching the empty feelings that came with it. Quiet nights with Hermione and Ron were glossed over, obviously of no interest to Snape, though Harry's frustration with his friends was briefly examined.
Harry tried to fight off the attack, tried to repel the invasion. He had to be rid of it before more was revealed, before secrets he'd been keeping from even himself were seen. Pushing uselessly against Snape's presence, Harry fought to disengage himself from the slide show of his life in his mind.
It wasn't working. Voldemort's face was flashing before him, the man's final moments playing before him once again. Harry felt Snape examine the events from his point of view. Snape felt the disappointment Harry had experienced, the way his whole purpose had drained away with the life of the man he was destined to destroy.
Dumbledore was next. That smile, with the twinkle in his eye, damn near killed Harry. As one Harry and Snape felt their hearts clench, the image quickly thrown away, too painful for either man to face.
Then there was another face, dauntingly familiar and completely horrifying. It spoke, but Harry heard no words, his eyes trained on the lips moving slowly. No.
He hadn't realised he had spoken aloud. Shaking his head, he couldn't bare to rise his eyes. He could feel Snape smirking, could feel the glee radiating off the other man. Harry had lied, there was so much Snape could do to him, so much he wanted him to do.
"Potter," no, he wasn't being soft. He was just lulling him into a false sense of security, just to make the final blow all the harder. Harry wouldn't let him, he'd already lost so much, he couldn't stand any more.
Before Snape could continue, Harry fled. He felt a fool, felt a coward. He felt too much. More than he could handle after the months of nothing. Everything had been so deeply buried, leaving him a shell, but it had been for the greater good.
The Boy Who Lived couldn't love a man, especially not a Death Eater. He couldn't want the man that had essentially killed his parents. The Boy Who Lived had responsibilities after all.
By the time he reached the common room, his heart had slowed back to its normal beat. Sliding through the portrait hole, Harry searched the room for his friends. Spotting Ginny instead, he sat beside her.
Snaking an arm around her waist, her kissed her gently, determined to be a better boyfriend. The boyfriend she deserved. Not one that thought about others while they kissed. Not one that couldn't stand to touch her. Not one that couldn't even bring himself to tell her he'd never love her.
Days passed. Terrible days in which Harry kept glancing over his shoulder, convinced he'd meet a pair of cruel black eyes. Days spent trying his hardest to be perfect for Ginny. Days devoted to being the perfect friend, the perfect student, the perfect Harry Potter everyone expected. Until it all came crashing down.
"I'm sorry Harry, but I can't do this anymore." For a moment the words didn't quite sink in. They were alone, sitting in an empty classroom. Harry had thought that by 'talk' Ginny had meant 'make out', he didn't think she had actually wanted to talk. She never wanted to talk.
"What do you mean?" There was meant to be more shock, or something. Not the monotone he used.
"I can't be with someone who doesn't even care about me." How did she know? How could she have seen? He had tried so hard, done all he could to make her feel loved, short of actually loving her.
Silence stretched. Harry didn't know what to say, didn't know how to fix it. He was meant to be with Ginny, they were meant to be in love. They'd finish school, get married, have a couple kids and live happily ever after, right?
"This just proves it Harry." Tears were streaming down her face. Harry couldn't even say when she had started crying. Maybe it had been the whole time. "You never cared did you? First it was killing Voldemort, and now he's gone, but you still don't care."
"I-" He what? He was sorry? He supposed he was, though only for letting it all go so far.
"Don't bother." Ginny walked to the door, looking back only to deliver her final farewell. "I'll see you round Harry."
Harry sat alone for a while, thinking. He should have been thinking about Ginny, should have been thinking about how much it hurt that she broke up with him. He should have been thinking about a great many things, and all of them before Snape. Yet it was Snape that drew his thoughts.
"Harry?" He looked up, surprised to see Hermione. He hadn't been sitting there long enough for anyone to be looking for him, had he? "I just saw Ginny. She was crying. She told me what happened." Harry flinched.
"Oh." There was nothing else for him to say. How much had Ginny said? How hard was it going to be to fix things?
"That was really wrong of you Harry. If you didn't love her, you should have said so." He wasn't in the mood for a lecture, it only reminded him of why he couldn't stand her anymore. Too many lectures, too many times Hermione had made it clear she thought she was better than him, smarter than him.
"Just leave me alone Hermione, I'm not in the mood right now." He tried to keep his words calm.
"No Harry, we're going to talk about this now." He bit back a retort, having to sink his teeth into his tongue to stop the words. He tasted blood. "That was really selfish of you, you didn't even consider her feelings." No, because the whole relationship hadn't been centered around keeping Ginny happy, not at all. "Honestly Harry, I expected better of you."
Standing in a fluid motion, Harry was at the door before she could stop him. He was gone before she had the chance to even open her mouth.
He hated the expectations. Despised them. They were killing him, the way everyone wanted so much of him. He could barely breath, he was so smothered in expectations.
Harry walked for hours, exiting the castle to make a hasty retreat to the forrest. The dark comforted him, wrapping him in its soft embrace. The trees seemed to whisper to him, welcoming home, even as the wind begged him to stay.
As he travelled deeper, birds began to disappear, their gentle songs swallowed by the ever hungry abyss. The darkness deepened, to the point where Harry struggled to see where his feet were landing. Even as his steps became strained, fatigue running through him, he kept walking.
Whether the sun was still above the horizon was unclear, the vegetation so thick it could have been midday as easily as midnight. All the while he didn't think. Every move was made subconsciously, leaving his mind blissfully clear. He was a walking zombie, flesh without a soul, without a mind. He was nothing.
Stumbling over a raised root, Harry tripped and fell, landing harshly on his knees. He didn't stand back up. Instead he sat back on his heels, staring blankly at the trees before him. Silence enveloped him, the only sound his breath coming haggard and strained.
Falling to his side, Harry felt his eyes slid shut. Sleep, yes sleep would help. He would wake in his bed to find it all had been a nightmare. Voldemort would still need defeating. His friends would still make him laugh, and Ginny would be the only one for him. Everything would be perfect, just as they had been.
It was cold. He was shaking, shivering. His teeth chattered, not so gently clinking off each other. His body had shifted in his sleep, curling in on itself for warmth. The cold was winning though, his temperature dangerously low.
He was dying. The Boy Who Lived, was dying. Harry tried to chuckle, but only managed to make himself cough. A part of him was over joyed, happy to be saying goodbye to what his life had become. Another part felt sadness, thinking over all the missed opportunities, all the things he'd never experience.
Mostly he felt acceptance. What was done, was done, and it was too late to change that now. He'd die here, and the earth would have his body, he knew there was no hope of anyone actually finding him out here. His soul would drift away, to whatever the afterlife held for him. Harry would finally be free.
Letting his eyes flutter close, Harry let out one last gentle breath.
Light, burning through his eyelids, demanding he open them. Heaven? Or maybe hell. He didn't really care, he wasn't going to open his eyes.
"Harry?" That voice, that voice never spoke his name. It was hell, nowhere else would he hear that. Squeezing his eyes further closed, Harry tried to avoid the inevitable torture. "Dammit Potter, if you're awake, open your eyes." That was more normal. But no, it was a trap, Harry knew it.
There was a soft rustling, the sounds of movement, then a warm hand was on his cheek, fingers placed on either eyelid. The fingers probed gently, forcing Harry's right eye open. When they fluttered, trying desperately to close again, the fingers moved.
"Good, I didn't want to give you mouth to mouth." He was babbling, a slight hint of hysteria in his words. Harry was confused. "It took me hours to find you, and then you were all curled up and blue." The usual sardonic tone was gone, along with the hard words.
"I-I don't understand." Harry slowly worked on open his eyes, finding the light was coming from a small magical fire beside him.
"Of course you don't, you didn't inherit your mother's intelligence." His own words seemed to bring him up short, as though he was contemplating something. "I loved Lily, so much I thought I'd die when He killed her."
"Is that why you're here?" Harry struggled to sit up, anger and disappointment warring within him. Of course, no one cared about Harry. They only cared he had defeated Voldemort, that he was his parents' son.
"Partly." Snape shrugged, unaware of how his words were effecting his companion.
"Then leave."
"Excuse me?"
"I said leave." The words were bitter, cutting through the air like a knife. "Leave me here to die in piece."
"Why?" Harry ignored the confusion. Ignored the way two black brows were drawn down, ignored the concern in those alluring dark eyes.
"Because I would rather die." Harry turned his face away, suddenly too embarrassed to show the other man his tears.
"Why?" A single word, a simple question. Yet there was no answer Harry could give, nothing he could say to explain.
For a long while they sat in silence, Harry refusing to answer as Snape patiently waited him out. It seemed they would go on forever, Harry watching the trees as Snape watched him.
"Tell me Harry."
"No."
"Why?" The frustration was back, melting through the comforting tone to reveal the darkness beneath. He didn't care, Harry convinced himself, he just wanted to know more of his suffering.
"Because there's nothing for me in this life."
The words hung in the air, just hung there, in the gap between their bodies. Harry only then noticed how close the other man was, their legs touching as Snape rested on his arms, one either side of Harry's lap. He was leaned forward, staring intently, even as Harry unconsciously leaned away.
"What do you want?" Harry had no answer. Snape sensed this and continued. "What do you want in this life?"
"Someone to see me." Turning back to face the other man, Harry didn't let his gaze waver, even as fresh tears trailed down his face. "Someone to see past what I did, who I killed. Someone who doesn't see my parents in me, someone who doesn't worship me for all the wrong reasons. Someone who can look me in the eye, and say they know me."
"And if you had this?" Harry still couldn't understand what had brought about this change in Snape. He feared he hadn't been saved, and his mind was creating this scene to soften the blow of death.
"I wouldn't be alone."
The world went black.
His head hurt. His chest hurt. He couldn't breath properly.
His eyes sprang open, taking in his surroundings immediately. Hospital wing, his mind provided after a moment. Soft bed, that explained the gentle warmth around him. Tight sheets, too tight. Harry shifted slowly, loosening them slightly.
"Potter." The name was said with relief, though not in the voice he had hoped. Turning his head, Harry locked eyes with McGonagall. "We were all so worried."
"Sorry professor." The words sounded dull, even to him.
"We're just fortunate Professor Snape found you in time. What were you doing out there boy?" He knew she meant well, but he just couldn't bring himself to be grateful for it.
"I just wanted to go for a walk. I got lost." It wasn't a complete lie, he had gone for a walk and had gotten lost.
"Granger told me about what happened with Miss Weasley." Harry winced. "It wasn't worth such drastic measures, I assure you Potter."
"Sorry professor."
"Really Potter, if you need someone to talk to, the whole staff would be more than willing to offer an ear." Except one, Harry was sure. "For now, you'll have to stay in hospital wing. You won't be allowed visitors for at least today."
"Thank you professor."
"Don't worry Potter, there are many people here for you." He couldn't believe her, not really. They were there, but they didn't see him, couldn't see him.
Things changed once Harry was allowed back in classes. Hermione felt it was all her fault, and tried her hardest to 'make it up' to him. Ron became jealous of his girlfriend's shift in attention, and subsequently stopped talking to Harry. People talked to him with carefully chosen words, as though anything would set him off.
Teachers wouldn't call on him in class, though each pulled him aside after to assure him they were there for him. All, of course, except for Snape. Snape was the only one that didn't change. He still glared, still smirked, still went out of his way to torture Harry. It was like the man who had saved him was gone completely.
"Potter." Harry looked up, the last one to pack up as per usual. Hermione was waiting for him at the door, but a look from Snape had her fleeing.
"Yes professor?"
"I have been asked by the headmistress to tell you, I am indeed here for you to spill your heart to if you so wish." The familiar curl to his lip comforted Harry.
"Don't worry professor, I won't be spilling my heart to anyone, let alone you." For a moment Snape seemed to want to say something more, a flash of pain running across his eyes.
"In all honesty Potter, if you were to spill your heart to me, I would hope it would be after the evening meal." Snape said his words carefully, intent on ensuring Harry got the message. "In my office, where I am every night at that time."
Harry simply nodded, leaving the room. He didn't know whether or not he would take up Snape's offer, not yet. A part of him wanted to, he couldn't deny it. He wanted the chance to vent, wanted the chance to be free of it all. Also wanted the chance to get closer to the other man. Only time would tell whether he'd take that chance or not.
"You saved me because you love my mother, right?" Harry was standing in the doorway to Snape's office, almost a week after the offer had been made. Every night before he had made it this far, but was always too afraid to knock. There was always a reason to walk away, rather than walking forward.
"Yes, and no." He wasn't surprised Harry had arrived, he knew he would come eventually. Even without the information he had ascertained all that time ago from Harry's mind, it was painfully clear the young man needed someone to talk to.
Harry didn't reply, he wasn't exactly sure of how to. Instead he took the next step in, closing the door behind him. Every step Harry took was slow, careful, as though afraid he would be pained by the next one.
"I searched for you because I loved your mother." Snape waited until Harry had sat in the chair opposite him before speaking again.
"Then why did you save me?"
"Because I saw a man worth saving." Harry couldn't help but laugh, the same laugh that had been pulled out of him the night that had set this whole course in action.
"If only I could believe that." Harry shook his head, surprised at his own words. He couldn't understand why he was being so open, despite knowing that was the reason he had came.
"I cannot force you to believe it." Snape stood, coming around the desk to stand beside Harry's chair. "But there are other ways to show you." Harry only raised an eyebrow. "Do you trust me?"
"Do I have to?"
"Only enough to trust I wouldn't lie in my own mind." Harry understood straight away. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he toyed with it as he played through possible outcomes to his next action. Would he like what he learnt? Or would it only destroy him further? Did he really want to know?
Despite being openly let in, Harry felt the strain his presence put on Snape. Instead of forcibly rummaging through the man's mind, he waited to be shown what Snape wanted him to see.
First came images of his mother, the love Snape had felt radiating off of them. Then brief glimpses of his father, though they were quickly forced down, along with the hatred that accompanied them.
Then he saw himself. Saw himself as a child, feeling the tortured emotions he had stirred in Snape. He watched himself grow, felt those feelings change. The hatred for the reminder of a school bully gave way to the soft green eyes that brought back happier memories. And then both were forgotten, melding into what was simply Harry.
Harry in Potions, face twisted in confusion. Harry eating, Ginny hanging off of him. Harry taunting him, Harry fighting with him. Harry's thoughts and memories. Harry curled up in the forrest, lips blue with cold. Harry's eyes opening, the green so much like Lily's yet not like hers at all.
Harry watched it all through Snape's eyes, not even noticing when he was gently pushed from the other's mind. The silence drew out, both lost in thought.
"How do you feel about me?" The words entered the air slowly, timidly. They drifted between the pair, refusing to dissipate, refusing to be ignored.
"I'm not willing to answer that."
"I guess you don't really have to either." Snape flinched, their conversation entering territory he wasn't sure he could handle. "You can't show me things like that, and expect me not to see."
"I guess not." Even though he tried to muster his usual dry tone, he just couldn't do it. No, Snape wasn't comfortable where this was going at all. Harry laughed at his professor's discomfort, the first true laugh Snape had heard from him in a long time.
"So, you're willing to open yourself up to me, but you can't deal with the awkward conversation afterwards."
"I'll remind you of your place, Potter." The words just didn't have their normal bite, and he knew it.
"Dammit Severus." Harry stood, shocking Snape. Definitely territory he wasn't ready for.
"Potter-" Snape was cut off by lips against his own. Warm lips, soft lips. Harry's lips.
He knew he should pull away, he knew he had to stop this before things got out of hand. But he couldn't. He couldn't fight the groan that escaped when Harry pushed him against his desk. Couldn't resist the tongue that played along his lips, begging him to spread his own.
Hands played across clothes, pulling them off to reach skin. Kiss travelled, leaving Severus free to stop this madness. He told himself he would, even as his arms pulled Harry closer. His mind screamed it wasn't right, wasn't ethical.
"Harry." The word was stuttered, barely coming out as more than a whisper. "Harry, stop."
"Why, the hell, would I do that?" Each word was punctuated by a kiss along his bare chest.
"Because," Severus had to stop to catch his breath as Harry's lips became more insistent across his chest. "Because you're too young for me."
"I'm of legal age."
"You're my student."
"Not for much longer."
"Ah!" Hands had moved when he wasn't paying attention, and then there were lips where he didn't expect them. Warm lips, hot tongue. Severus said goodbye to all thought processes. By the time they came back, Severus wasn't exactly sure of what had hit him.
Harry smirked, wiping the side of his mouth casually. The image did little to help Snape's inner turmoil.
"Why are you doing this?" It was hard to get the words out, let alone form the thought behind them, as the figure before him slowly shed its own clothes.
"I gave everything to destroy Voldemort." Harry spoke once completely naked, standing before Snape as though he'd done it a million times before. "I lost my family. I couldn't face my friends. The world loved me, without even seeing me. The moment Voldemort died, I lost everything."
"That doesn't tell me why." Snape made sure to keep his eyes trained on Harry's face, knowing if they wandered down, they probably wouldn't come back up.
"I'm going to start taking things back." Harry edged closer, easily sliding his body up against that of his companion. "Starting with you."
Harry kissed Severus before he could reply, silencing any and all arguments. He knew they both wanted this, knew they both needed it. And he wasn't going to back down.
Lifting the body of the older man easily, Harry utilised his Quidditch toned muscles to maneuver him onto the desk. Hand danced over skin, caressing every inch as they went. Fingers probed and touched, exploring eagerly, using the sounds they received as guides for their next move.
Both men were panting, breath coming short and sharp in their need for one another. Eyes were hazy with lust and pleasure, and deeper emotions they were nowhere near ready to face.
"Harry, please." Severus wasn't sure when he had given up fighting, given up resisting. All he knew was that he needed the other man, and couldn't wait another moment to have him.
Happy to oblige his companion's request, Harry took one last deep breath before swiftly melding their bodies together. As one they moved, rocking against each other, as strangled moans pulled past kiss swollen lips. Though the coupling was short, the passion hung thick in the air once they were done.
The gentle moment following their yelled releases seemed so empty, yet so full. Not a word was said, neither willing to ruin the perfection they had just found within each other.
"Harry," no matter how much it pained him, Snape knew they had to talk. He wanted so badly to put it off, but he knew that would only make it worse. "We should talk about what just happened."
"We made love." Severus noticed his choice of words immediately. They 'made love', not they 'had sex', not they 'fucked', they 'made love'. It both warmed him and scared him.
"We shouldn't have. I'm your teacher, you're in an emotionally fragile state, I clearly took advantage of you." He wasn't sure of who he was convincing, Harry or himself.
"If I recall, I was the one taking advantage." Green eyes travelled suggestively, holding a glint Severus never thought he would see there.
"Potter, would you be serious?" He shouldn't have snapped at him, the hurt that flashed across his face said as much clearly. "I'm sorry, I'm just not sure of our situation."
"Again, we made love." Harry shrugged. "Something I think I'd like to try on a regular basis, if you wouldn't mind."
"You're my student."
"And you're my teacher, until the end of the year, at which point it doesn't matter."
"Potter, you were suicidal less than a week ago," Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Do you really expect me to believe this discussion was made by a completely stable mind?" Harry stiffened, glaring at Snape.
"I knew you wouldn't want me." Harry began gathering his clothes, pulling them on as he spoke. "That's why I gave you no choice, because I knew you wouldn't want to keep me. I can't really blame you though, who would want a messed up kid?
"The Boy Who Lived in love with a Death Eater, who would want someone so twisted? I mean, you had to come save me because I was too stupid to even go for a walk properly." Harry was at the door now, glaring at the handle as though it was the cause for all his woe. "I held out the tiniest bit of hope that maybe, maybe, you'd care, but I guess I was wrong."
"I love you." The words were enough to still Harry, shock pinning him to the spot. "I love you, you idiotic fool."
"I don't believe you."
"You were more than willing to believe it not that long ago. More than willing to bring it up when it suited you, but you can't face it now." Anger rose in Snape's body, as well as his voice. "I hated you because you were your father's son.
"At first I thought I loved you because you had her eyes, but I couldn't fool myself. I loved you because you were just like her, yet nothing like her." Snape shook his head, finally moving off the desk to wrap his arms around Harry's waist from behind, his head resting on his shoulder. "You made me love you, then have the audacity to accuse me of not wanting you? You have no right, Harry."
Harry squeezed his eyes closed, trying to make sense of the thoughts in his head. Everything was so confused, his mind twisting every word until it was ugly and hurtful. A darkness surrounded him, pressing against him, blocking out everything else.
"Why is it so dark?" The words were pathetic, just like the tone that delivered them. Harry turned his head, desperately searching for Severus' eyes, desperately searching for answers.
"Because you've got a long way to go love."
"When will it end?"
"When you're willing to accept how things are."
"And if I can't." Severus paused, thinking over Harry's words before carefully choosing his own.
"If you can't, I'll be there to aid you." Harry smiled, a tiny timid thing that barely deserved the name smile. Severus returned it nonetheless. Their path would be more than rocky, but they'd shared too much to not face it together.