Getting Through and Getting Together

Disclaimer: Yes I got profit from this. It was in the form of a fic written by a friend. Is that alright?? I still don't own them of course.

Warnings: Slash. Could get mature if someone wants me to, but that's totally up to one girl's willingness to give into my bribe.

The music thudded through him, the floor vibrated, and the room spun. The colours, the sounds, everything was sparkling and beautiful. He was surrounded by pulsing, rippling bodies, hot and each one exquisitely perfect. But one by one the bodies began to leave until a large hand was placed on Harry's shoulder.

"Come on Leo, we're closing. Out you go," said the burly guard. All the staff knew him at the club. He came every night, and they only let him in night after night because he paid his tab more regularly than any of the other patrons, and the owner, Lindsey, had a soft spot for Harry. And she was a squib in a muggle town, behind a muggle bar, serving muggle customers but with one Saviour of the Wizarding World as a regular. She was sworn to secrecy about his presence there though: Harry had wanted to disappear from the Wizarding World after all the publicity of the War. He had even changed his name. Whenever he introduced himself it was as Leo Black – a tribute to his house and his godfather.

Harry stumbled out into the street, into the cold and the dark. Which way was his house… Blinking rapidly, he found black spots before the bright colours of everything else, and he almost tripped as he made his way forwards hoping he was going in the right direction. He knew he did not want to spend another night asleep in a doorway, because that had never spelt a nice awakening.

Suddenly, he cannoned into a body he had not seen, but a hand shot out to steady him, catch him before he hit the unforgiving ground.

"Sorry, thanks," Harry muttered, and the hands momentarily let him go until…

"Potter?!"

Harry froze. No, he had gone so long without being recognised. Five years, half a decade since Voldemort fell. He no longer wore glasses (he had had his eyes lasered), his hair hung over his scar, and his face had changed and matured, and he had avoided Wizarding Britain.

"You look like hell," came the voice, velvet yet biting in the darkness. "What are you doing?"

"Going home," Harry said, slurring his words slightly. He had to get home; he knew in moments the drug induced euphoria he was in would wear away, and he did not have anymore in his stash at home. He would have to find some more tomorrow. And then… the tunnel of darkness swept up to claim him. He could not see, he could hardly think, and then an arm was around him.

It seemed friendly, comforting almost, as the person guided his faltered steps. There was a sigh in his ear, and then that was all he heard before he was swallowed by the darkness.

Flushed cheeks, mussed hair, pupils dilated, eyes glassed over… Potter looked exactly like hell as he pulled the covers over him. Merlin knew why, really, Severus had picked up this broken shell of a youth and brought him home. But enough Wizards and Witches had screwed up since the war, unable to process the things they had seen in that time. To see the Boy Who Lived like that, and Lily's eyes bloodshot like that, was a crime. He could not have left him in that state.

So here was Potter, in his bed, sleeping off his high. There were only two rooms in Severus' flat, and a glorified closet they called a bathroom. Though there was no bath, just a toilet and a shower he could only just fit into. The other two counted for his bedroom come study and his kitchen come dining room come laboratory. There was barely space to move, defiantly no place for a sofa or mattress on the floor, so bed sharing it would have to be. If Potter was going to be an arse when he woke up, he could be on said arse in the street. He had one chance, and that was it.

As he slipped into the bed, Snape grinned. James Potter would be turning in his grave. He closed his eyes, but then, the slender body next to him curled up against him. Severus snorted in disgust. "Get off me Potter. I want to go to sleep, and I do not need you hanging off my arm."

But the brat did not listen to him, just curled closer into him. Severus had to admit that the warmth of a body against his, something he had not felt for a long time. He wrapped an arm around the younger man, and fell asleep.

000

Somebody moved next to him, pulling him from sleep long before he was fully rested. Wait, why would someone be next to him? He opened his eyes in painfully bright light, and found none other than Professor Snape climbing out and stretching up to the ceiling with a groan.

"What the hell?" thundered Harry, staring up at the man

"I am not as gruesome a sight as you, Potter," sneered Snape, moving away almost unsteadily to go into another room. There was suddenly and the sound of rushing water, a shower being turned on. "I hope you're planning to have a shower after me," he called from what was obviously the bathroom.

Harry blinked. He could not make sense of this. Why Snape...? Was Snape…? This made no sense. Trying to stand up, a cloud of dizziness assailed him, and he was forced to sit back down again. Urgh. He hated being sober. His head was pounding, thumping. Why were the curtains open? It was letting all the evil sun light it. He reached up to pull them closed, but, when he looked up, he realised that there was no window. It was just a bright light. Painfully so.

He looked around through squinting eyes for a light switch. There were piles of books everywhere, mountains of them, scrolls, pamphlets, novels, textbooks, and sheets. The bed was the only thing in the room that you could not read.

Why did Snape not have more space? Every other teacher's space was large, there were rooms for books. Why not Snape? It hurt too much to think. He buried his head back into the pillow, urgh Snape's pillow, to keep away the blinding light, until, eventually, Snape emerged.

"Are you not going to get up then Potter?" asked the mocking voice.

"Go away," growled Harry. "Your voice is hurting my head."

It was silent for just a moment, but then, in a quieter tone this time, Snape said, "This is my house remember. You can not tell me to go away."

Harry merely made a moaning noise. He was starting to feel nauseas.

"And clearly you are not going away either Potter. So we are going to have to put up with each other," Snape told him. He moved out of the room, but Harry was forced to leave the room a second later as well. The nausea swum up and over him, claiming him, and he dashed into the bathroom. It was tiny, and he barely managed to manoeuvre his way to the toilet before he pulled the lid open and was retching into it. A time that was too long later and he returned to the bedroom, mopping the sweat from his forehead.

Snape was waiting for him, a vial in his hand. "This should help your headache somewhat," the man told him.

Hesitantly, Harry took it and looked at the thick liquid inside. The smell made his weakened stomach try to rebel again. "What is this? Poison?" he asked.

"If you don't want it, that's up to you," Severus said. For the first time, Harry looked at him, studied him. He was only wearing a pair of pitch black trousers, and Harry could not help but notice how the creamy colour of his skin contrasted with the black, and how muscular his body was. A light dusting of hair ranged cross his chest, and there was a trail that disappeared into his trousers. "But it is not poison."

What choice did Harry have but to trust him? He gulped the liquid down, holding his nose as he did so. Blinking at the taste once done, he asked, "Why am I here? What do you want with me?"

Rolling his eyes, Snape said, "I do not particularly want you here at all. But you were the one who carted into me last night, you are the one who is clearly a drug addict, you are the one who is supposed to be a good little Gryffindor."

"I do not care," spat Harry.

"Have you seen yourself lately Potter?" asked Snape. He wrapped a hand around the younger wizard's arm and dragged him into the bathroom he had only just left. "You're a mess. A disgrace."

"That's rich, coming from you."

Snape stood him in front of the mirror, and Harry looked into a stranger's face. Pale, skeletally thin… it was a miracle Snape had recognised him at all. "People used to say that you look like your father. Your father never looked like that, he was relatively attractive. You look like you just got spat up from the street." He smirked. "Oh wait, you did."

Whirling around, Harry raised a hand to hit the wizard, but Snape grabbed his wrist. "Let me go."

"Do you not realise that enough people have died from this war? You are killing yourself," Snape hissed, viciously. "I was supposed to protect you, so hear me protect you now. You're going to turn out like me. No one should turn out like me. A shell. A breathing corpse."

"I am not…"

"Yes you are." Snape shook him, furiously. "I look at you and you are a fool. You're twenty three, and you look like you're thirty. So quit this now."

"You think you can take me home one night and just… convert me? I lived this way for years, I like my life," exclaimed Harry.

"What do you have that's worth living for? Do you have a job?"

"No, but…"

"Do you have a partner?"

"No, but…"

"Do you have children?"

"No, but…"

"Are you even still in touch with your friends?"

"No, but…"

"Exactly! You need to clean yourself up," Snape told him. "You're a druggy. Get showered and I'll be back in an hour."

000

When Severus got in from his trip to the shops, Harry was curled up on his bed, hugging himself with his head resting on his knees. "Are you being pathetic?" Severus asked.

"You locked the door," muttered Harry. "I need to go; my dealer will be in now. I need to find him before he leaves."

"No, you don't," said Severus, as he threw the bag he carried at the younger wizard. "You are not going to get any more drugs. You're going to get clean and you're going to put on some clothes that don't look like they belong to a go-go boy."

"I do not…" Harry looked down at his leather outfit, and he flushed. "Maybe I do look like a go-go boy. A little. And maybe the drugs aren't good for me, but what else am I supposed to do to forget? There's no other way, and trust me, I've tried them all."

"Have you tried talking about it?"

Harry snorted. "To whom? Ginny? She ran off with Seamus. To one of the Weasleys? They break down whenever anyone mentions the war – do you not remember that one of their children died? Hermione despises the topic. And everyone expects me to be fine with everything."

"I don't," said Severus, simply. "I had no one to talk to after the war, and look what I became."

"You did not turn to drugs," laughed Harry. "You became a teacher. You made something of yourself. Though, looking around, maybe not."

Sighing, Severus sat back down on the end of the bed, and told him, "Firstly, how do you know I did not turn to drugs? I became a teacher, because I was supposed to be spying on Dumbledore, etc etc. It was not a job that paid well, and I did not make much at all. And lastly, I quit teaching. I don't teach anymore. I just experiment."

"You turned to drugs?" asked Harry.

"Yes. I looked worse than you," said Severus, "And I felt worse than you."

"I don't know if that's even possible," Harry muttered, pressing his face back into his knees.

"It really is," Severus told him, before moving towards the door. Then he hesitated. "I did just convince you to clean up?" A nod. "You know what is going to happen next, right?"

Harry exhaled noisily, "Yes. I do."

"Right."

Severus left him on his own.

000

Severus was writing up an experiment early that evening, having not seen the younger wizard again since the morning, except to offer him food, which he had refused, looking green, when a groan came from the bedroom.

"Potter?" he called out, looking up from his writing. "Are you dying?"

"Possibly," came the pained reply.

Sighing, Severus knew that he would have to stand up and check on him. He had been through withdrawal himself, twice in fact, and it was not pleasant to say the least. Before he went in, he flicked his wand at the door, and it locked with a comforting click.

He moved into his bedroom, and felt a burst of sympathy for the shivering youth. Pressing a hand to the youth's forehead, he found a sweat on the skin, though it was freezing cold. "Get under the covers. They are there to keep you warm," he said, making it sound as soft as possible. It was an odd thing for his voice to do.

"I didn't want to…"

"Potter," growled Severus. "Do what I tell you." For a moment, Harry glared, but it faltered after a second. His body still trembling, he pulled the covers over him, and tugged them close. He was curled in on himself, his face screwed up. "Stomach cramps?" Severus asked, gently.

Brusquely, Harry nodded. "Every… every part of me wants the drugs," he stammered. "You can't let me go for them."

"I was never planning to," Severus stated simply. "But there is nothing I can get for you, to make it any better. You just have to get through it."

"I know," muttered Harry. "But would you stop talking so loud? It hurts my head."

"Sorry," said Severus in a whisper. "I will leave you alone."

He was only just out of the door, when the call came. "Do not do that."

Severus understood in a moment. He would never have asked about it, but he had wanted someone with him when he had been getting through his withdrawal. Someone to hold him, someone to support him, someone to keep him down if he physically tried to fight his way to the soft numbness that was what the drugs brought to him… Wordlessly, Severus lay down next to the younger wizard, on top of the covers rather than under them where Harry was, and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for nothing and everything.

After only three minutes and six seconds, Severus counted, Harry curled up against him as he had the night before, still quivering. "It's cold."

"I know," said Severus. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around the lump that was the younger wizard. Harry did not shake him away, indeed, he snuggled further into it. Severus shook his head; when Harry was better he would not want this at all, but the momentary comfort would do.

000

Listening to Snape's light snores, Harry was impressed at how the former spy was being so controlled, but then again, he should have expected it. He was a former spy… But Snape had always hated him, and that hatred had been mutual, but then the Final Battle had changed everything. Everything.

They were able now to be civil, they had learnt that when Harry had visited Snape in St Mungo's just days after Voldemort's defeat. Snape was holding him tight, and it was comforting. It had been a long time since he had been held like that, something he and Snape probably had in common.

His mind was clearing ever so slowly, and his quaking was starting to slow. It was gradual, but it was there, Harry knew that Snape was right, had known that he needed to sort himself out for a long time. But he had needed someone else to see it, someone to care about him enough to tell him to tell him to get his act together. That is was Snape was just… odd, but if his experience could help him out of the hole he had fallen into, he would welcome it. For Severus was right; there was nothing for him to live for like this. He was stuck.

And he was sure that Severus could help him out of the hole. If he was capable of being saved, then it was by someone who had managed to save himself on his own. And he could just mould himself perfectly to the older man, nuzzle into his neck… He could not help but observe that Snape had aged wonderfully.

But he should not be thinking of that. He pressed his eyes closed, and waited for the numbness of sleep to come. Yet without thoughts in his head, the yearning ache throughout his entire body was the only thing that occupied his mind. So thoughts of the one and only Severus Snape returned.

000

Hands were gripping around Severus' arm when he woke, and a dark haired youth was whimpering into his neck.

"Wassamatter?" Severus asked, turning over to Harry, not quite awake yet.

"Hurts. Make it go away," moaned the younger wizard.

Severus had to bite his lip to prevent him from being cruel to him, and merely said, "I can not. I'm sorry Harry."

The emerald eyes flickered up to his for a moment at the slip of Harry's name, but then they returned and were hiding by the way Harry buried himself in Severus' neck. What choice did Severus have but to pull him up into his arms. It felt odd that he should be comforting someone that he had someone to comfort, to calmingly rub the back a person in his hold.

"What would my friends say if they saw me like this?" muttered Harry, in a voice edged with hysteria.

Into Harry's shaggy long hair that was splayed into his face, Severus said, "They would probably ask why in Merlin's name you let yourself get into such a dark place in the first place. And why you did not ask them for help instead of resorting to the evil Potion Master."

Drowsily, Harry told him, "You are not evil really. More… misunderstood."

Severus could not help but snort. "Does that count for a compliment in your world of crystal meth and magic mushrooms?"

"Perhaps not a very good one." Harry mumbled his response. "Maybe I should just admit to finding evil sexy and go back to sleep."

Keeping his voice steady, and his laughter out of it, Severus replied, "Perhaps you should."

So, Harry Potter lying mostly on top of his chest, a leg twined through his to keep him in place, Severus Snape fell back to sleep.

000

Damn it all. How was he supposed to leave Snape's room to find his dealer now? He had managed to check his watch by twisting ever so carefully, just so, and it was morning. And time for him to get out of Snape's hair. That was noticeably less greasy and cut noticeably more attractive.

Very slowly and very carefully, he lifted the arm that was around his shoulders, and began to extract his leg from between Snape's. It worked, and he was just twisting the door open when a growling voice came from behind. "Get your pert butt back into bed Harry. I am not awake yet, neither should you be. Though it must mean you are feeling better."

"You are remarkably talkative for someone who is asleep," said Harry, trying not to feel too abashed at being caught.

"And you told me not to let you out. I am on automatic. Now get back here, I am getting cold," Severus said, opening his arms.

Harry had to admit that the order was really very inviting. Not that it seemed he had a choice, so he lay back down and curled into the hold. A hand hooked under his chin, and Harry was forced to meet Snape's surprisingly alert eyes. "What?"

"Are you feeling any better?" Severus softly asked.

"Yes thank you. Though I'm not sure I want to eat anything just yet," confessed Harry.

"Understandable," said Severus, and he released Harry's jaw, letting it drop back down. Finding himself snuggling into the hold of the older wizard, Harry was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to kiss the exposed skin at his throat. So he did. Beneath him, Snape stiffened. "What was that?"

"Me saying thank you," said Harry simply, though he squeezed his eyes closed.

For an agonizingly long moment, there was silence, until Snape chuckled, "I should do more to be in your debt."

"What?" exclaimed Harry, abruptly incredulous.

"You heard Potter. I am not going to say it again."

"Harry," he corrected him.

There was a pause, and then, just one word: "Severus."

"Nice to meet you," said Harry, smirking into Severus' chest.

"Nice to meet you too. You are keeping me awake by sleeping on me. We should probably be on first name terms."

Smiling, Harry said, "I'm glad you think so."

000

A week later, and Harry was swinging his legs, sitting on the counter in the kitchen and picking crisps from a packet. Severus came into the room and sent him a glare. "Eat. All of them, skeleton child."

"Yes sir," growled Harry, sarcastically. At Severus' elevation of eyebrows, he merely shrugged, "Well authority is a turn on."

Severus coughed something that sounded suspiciously like 'Dumbledore' and continued on his way to the fridge. As Harry seemed too outraged to say anything, Severus said, "We are running low on sustenance. Care to accompany me to the shops? I also want some more ingredients for my potions."

A grinning Harry, who had not missed the 'we', exclaimed, "Can I go out?"

"The door, had you cared to check, has been open the past five days and all that time, had you asked, I would not have stood in your way," Severus said, a small smile on the face at the delight on Harry's. "Get your coat."

"I don't have a coat," said Harry, but he was already tearing into the bedroom to steal one of Severus' more robust jumpers – yes it was dark green, no he did not care. When Harry returned to the lounge come dining room come laboratory, Severus was waiting for him with an unusually solemn expression upon his harsh features. Warily, Harry asked, "What is it?"

"Just that… despite being cleared of all charges, the population of wizarding Britain still frowns upon my existence," Severus warned. "Having the Saviour of the World with me might help a little, but do not be surprised if… unpleasant words are called out."

Biting his lip, Harry asked, "Hang on, we're going into the wizarding world?"

"Where else would I be able to get a feather from a winged horse? I mean, I would go somewhere else if I could, getting spat at is not my idea of a fun day out, but there is nowhere else." Then Severus noticed the panicked look in Harry's eyes, and knew what was wrong. "When was the last time you were in Diagon alley, Harry?"

Gazing down at his shoes, Harry replied, "Four year ago."

Severus gaped for a split second, but then slammed his mouth back shut. "Well better late then ever, if you'll excuse the muggle cliché. Come on, take my arm. I frankly do not think you are recovered enough yet to Apparate by yourself."

An agonising few seconds later, and they were standing in the middle of Diagon alley. He began to walk but then, a moment later, Harry was glancing around frantically, looking for his companion who had disappeared in the crowds of busy shoppers. Panicking, Harry was about to call out, when hands were placed on his shoulders, very close to his neck, and Severus' warm breath blew in his ear, making him shiver. "Come now Harry, don't think you can escape that easily."

"Severus!" exclaimed Harry. "Don't wander off like that. I almost had a heart attack."

Surprised black eyes stared down at him. "I am not about to leave you anywhere Potter. Come on now, preferably before all the shops close."

This time, Harry threaded his hands through Severus' and met the curious dark eyes with a grin. "This way we will not get separated."

"Because heaven forbid that," muttered Severus, but there was a tone of amusement in his voice, so Harry knew it was alright. Somewhat hurriedly, he began to pull the younger wizard towards the Apothecary. They were only in there for a few moments, the owner knew Severus and rushed to assist him, and soon they were going back out into the streets.

"Where are we going now?" asked Harry, curious, as they did not head in the direction they had come.

"I'm hungry. I want food," Severus grinned. "And you will be forced to eat with me. Eat. You remember that?"

"Bastard," grumbled Harry.

"You know it."

"And love it."

Laughing softly, Severus glanced down, expecting Harry to be joking, but the younger male had blushed vividly and was not looking at him. Severus had no response to offer.

But then, suddenly, he did not need to. "Harry?" The voice came from behind, and made Harry stiffen before turning steadily. Severus twisted too, and found the Weasley girl before them. Her face was crumpled in confusion. "We have not seen you in… so long. What…"

Shifting closer to Severus infinitesimally, Harry merely said, "I'm sorry."

"Where have you been for so long?" gasped Ginny, before, without warning, she threw herself at the male. Harry stiffened in her grasp, in a way that he never had done in Severus', the older wizard noticed. "We have all been so worried about you. You never replied to our letters, or anything, and… You disappeared."

"I know," Harry stood rigid, and Ginny must have noticed, because she let him go.

"You're so thin, you… look awful. Where have you been? What have you been doing?" she asked. And then… the looked up and saw Severus. "What the hell are you doing with him?"

Harry moved back towards the older male, and grasped a hand around his wrist. Severus was surprised by that and even more so by his response. "He took care of me. More than anyone else bothered to. You could have found me if you'd really looked, if you'd really cared. You're a witch for god's sake! He wasn't looking, and he took me into his house and fought for me to get off the drugs I was addicted to." Ginny started. "Yes, I was a drug addict. You never saw."

"I… I'm sorry. But, whatever small thing he has done for you, we're your family. If you had asked, we would have helped," Ginny said, somewhat brokenly. "Why didn't you ask us?"

"I didn't want to be a burden on anyone, and I had not admitted to myself that I had a problem, not really. I needed someone to shake it out of me. For Merlin's sake, he convinced me yesterday to go to a rehab meeting, and I'm going to go, every week." Harry's voice cracked, and his hand tightened on Severus' arm. "He helped me, and no one else did." He paused, and Ginny gaped at them. As no response was forthcoming, he added, "And I think I'm falling in love with him."

Severus froze, shock overwhelming him. That was new… He had noticed Harry's easy freedom of touches and growing affection, and it was somewhat astonishing. But he had never expected that. And yet, he knew deep down that it was mutual. Without warning, he found himself yanking Harry's jaw up and met his lips, and plundered his mouth with his tongue.

Harry responded eagerly, and when, gasping, they drew away, the younger man said, "Let's go. Now. Not eat."

"Coherent sentences Potter," smirked Severus, but with a crack, he apparated the two of them away, ignoring Ginny's expression of disgust.

"Why would I them?" asked Harry, when they arrived in Severus' cluttered lounge. Severus dropped his bags down and they went on discover how good life could be without coherence.

A/N: You know the challenge Lauren, you know what I want. Need. You crossed the line, surely you can go just a little bit further? For me?

Now the rest of you, there's a little button down there with the word "Go" on it. Press it and leave me a review if you wanna make me happy?