Disclaimer: I don't own anything here. I make no money off of any of this.

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Ron and Hermione could hear the pair's argument all the way upstairs. "Merlin! Why do you always have to be such a bastard!" Harry's voice seemed to rattle the room. He and Snape were going at it again in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. It seemed every time there was an Order meeting, Snape always egged Harry into an argument about something.

"Watch your tone, Potter!" the Potions Master's voice echoed. "Perhaps if you weren't such a self-absorbed brat, we wouldn't be having this argument!" The sound of the man's callous snarking forced a wince out of Ron, having recalled the numerous times it had been directed at him during classes.

"Do you think we should go down there?" Hermione asked, twirling a wild brown lock around her finger. It was a nervous habit of hers that always gave away her anxiety. "I mean...maybe we could help..." Harry and Snape's voices grew even louder, both shouting at each other at the same time, morphing together into an indistinguishable garble. Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering interrupted the argument, halting the shouts for a moment. Ron's eyes widened in terror, and Hermione quickly answered her own question, "Or perhaps not. Harry can handle himself."

"Right," Ron nodded his head vigorously, having to shout to Hermione as Harry and Snape's voices rose in volume again. "Harry'll be alright."

The angry voices lasted for a few more minutes, still garbled nonsense, until finally, they heard Harry's voice rise over Snape's, "Oh bugger off, you greasy git!" They didn't hear any response from Snape after that, but they could follow Harry's stomping footsteps as he stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the room they were currently occupying. He stormed into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Harry continued to stomp across the room and flung himself into the chair opposite the couch Hermione and Ron were on and glowered.

"You alright, mate?" Ron tried.

"I'm fine," Harry snarled, his across crossed across his chest.

"Harry," Hermione scolded, "I'm sure you have every right to be angry with Professor Snape, but don't take it out on Ron and me."

"Sorry," Harry grumbled, his posture softening a bit. "It's just...ugh. The git always manages to get under my skin."

"Have you ever thought about just ignoring his comments?" Hermione asked in her know-it-all tone. If looks could kill, Harry's would've been the end of her right then and there. "Okay, then. Ignoring him isn't an option. What were you arguing about this time?"

"He was comparing me to my dad again..."

"Oh, Harry."

"What broke?" Ron butted in. "We heard something shattering."

"I threw a plate at him," Harry laughed now, finally relaxing completely. He continued recounting the event, "It was just lying there on the counter, so I grabbed it and threw it. My aim was off though...Missed his face by about this much." He held up his fingers to emphasize how narrowly Snape had evaded the attack.

The trio sniggered together for a few moments, before Ron added, "Way to go. Too bad you missed."

"Yeah," Harry's laughter subsided after a moment. The Boy-Who-Live sighed before he began talking, "Well, I guess I should go to bed. Hopefully I can be asleep before he decides to sleep. We really need to change the bedroom arrangements here." His shoulders slumped as he stood up.

"Bloody hell! They've still got him sharing the same room as you?"

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "Stupidest idea ever. Anyway, night, guys."

"Night, Harry," Ron and Hermione chorused together as the raven-haired boy exited the room. Once he was gone, Hermione turned her body, so she was facing Ron again on the couch. "We've really got to talk to someone about finding Snape a different room when he spends the night here. I know he has to be here for Order business, and we'd don't all fit quite so comfortably in the house, especially when everyone spends the night...but still. Poor Harry."

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Harry had hurried his way down the hall and into his bedroom. He'd changed into pajamas and hopped into bed. Now, with everything quiet in the house, he was staring at the ceiling, blankets pulled up to his chin, waiting for time to pass. Eventually, he heard the heavy footsteps heading towards the bedroom. The door creaked open and then shut. The was a rustle as Snape undid his outer robes, tossing them over the footboard of the bed on the opposite side of the room.

"You could have transfigured the bed larger while I was still in the kitchen," the Potions Master's voice cut through the silence.

Harry rolled over to face the man, grinning as the bed widened. "But I like when you do it." He swore he could see the man rolling his eyes at him, even through the darkness without his glasses. He watched the shadowy form of his lover toe off his boots before he climbed into the bed beside him. "You lock the door, Sev?"

"Of course I did," Snape sneered at the younger man, slipping himself under the covers. "I'm not you. I put up the silencing charm as well, before you insult me again with inane questions."

Harry chuckled and snuggled in closer to the man. He draped an arm across his chest, nuzzling him with his face. They laid together in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Snape felt Harry's body sigh, the younger man's hot breath ghosting across him sadly.

"What's wrong?"

Harry propped himself up on his hands, turning to look into Snape's face. "Are we ever going to stop pretending?" Snape elegantly raised a black eyebrow, as if prompting him further. "The fights. The yelling. It just feels like we're never going to be able to stop pretending to hate each other."

The Potions Master sighed, glancing up at the ceiling. He'd been expecting this eventually. Every once in a while Harry would get upset at the secrecy surrounding their relationship, and he'd have to comfort the man. Not that he minded, really, but it was just...awkward for him still. "Soon, Harry. Soon," was all he could come up with tonight.

"I know," Harry murmured through the darkness, still perched on his chest, looking at him. "I just...tonight's fight was really convincing." Snape snorted, knowing full well that was the point. "Stop laughing at me!" Harry poked him hard in the side. "I was just thinking about how convincing it was when I was talking to 'Mione and Ron...and then I realized that when we do come out about it...everyone's going to think you hexed me or something because of how real our fake fights were."

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, filling the room with some light then. Snape could see the worry swimming in Harry's green eyes then. He sighed, tugging the younger man back down into a laying position, and held him close. "We'll figure something out," he told him, kissing his forehead.

"You better," Harry mock-threatened.

"Brat."

"Git."

"Go to sleep."

"I love you, Sev," Harry mumbled, snuggling back into the Potions Master's chest.

"Love you too," Snape grumbled. He didn't say it often, another thing that felt awkward, but he felt it. And he thought Harry deserved to hear it tonight.

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A/N: Okay, so my first foray into Snarry! I've been reading it for close to a decade now, but never had the courage to give it a whirl before now. I've written other stories on here, under another penname of course, but I thought I'd give this a shot anonymously and see what happens. Please please please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought! I'm open to anything, positive, negative, constructive criticism, whatever! Hope you enjoyed reading! :)