A/N: I own nothing but the plot.
Severus Snape had one regret in his life; making the one person who he loved completely, leave him. No, it wasn't Lily Evans who he pushed away. Sure he loved her, but he was not in love with her, despite popular belief. No, life was not that simple, for he was, in fact, in love with her son. Harry Bloody Potter.
It had started in the year following Dumbledore's death. Harry had stumbled into Grimmauld Place one day during June, when he was suppose to be with the Dursleys. He had, however been kicked out, and failed to tell anyone, he decided to stay at his godfather's old place for the night and figure the rest out in the morning. The Order had abandoned the house after the secret keeper, Dumbledore, had died, fearing that it would be taken over by Death Eaters. Yet, Dumbledore had, just days prior to his death, transferred the power of Secret Keeper to one Severus Snape. It had become the hideout for Draco and himself while they were not in service to the Dark Lord.
"Home Sweet Home," came the soft, sarcastic comment from the troubled teen as he set down his trunk in the main foyer. As he looked up, he came face to face with a black wand pointed between his eyes, connected to dark clothing that matched the wand. As he looked up, he found a sallow face, dark eyes, and a rather large nose.
"Potter? What the hell are you doing here?" the Potions Master remarked, completely taken by surprise, for once.
"Can't we just deal with this in the morning, I've already had enough shit to deal with today, I don't need anymore," came the tired response from Harry. It was true, from being kicked out of the Dursleys, then trying to find his way from Surrey to London, without taking the Night Bus, as it was day-time; he was more than tired. He knew that he was staring at his beloved Headmaster's murderer, but couldn't be bothered to care that much right now. His reasoning was, in his exhausted mind, that had his Professor wanted to kill him, he would have done it by now. So, with that, he walked past the black robed wizard with a calculating glare, into the living room where he was greeted with a stunned Draco Malfoy.
"Potter?"
"Malfoy. I'm tired, going to bed, kill me in the morning," was the only response Harry gave before crossing the living room and heading up the stairs and into Sirius's old room.
"What the bloody hell was that, Severus?" Draco asked, taken back at his boyhood rivalry's attitude.
"I have no clue, nor do I rightly care. Whiskey?" Severus said, holding out the bottle of Old Odgen's to Draco.
"Two fingers" was the only reply.
The next morning Severus woke up to the smell of breakfast being cooked, knowing that it was Potter, as Draco couldn't be bothered to rise before noon, most days.
"Ah, Professor," Harry acknowledged as he set a plate of bacon down and then handed the professor a cup of tea and a plate.
"Potter?" Severus was confused, to say the least. The food smelled okay, no subtle undertones of poison or other potions; his large nose was good for something at least.
"Sit and eat, then tell me what the hell you are doing in this house," Harry said. With that, Severus started eating, and filling Harry in, telling him the whole story, and oddly enough, Harry believed him.
Harry, after finding out that Severus was not as evil has appeared, stayed with him and Draco for most of the summer, while pretending to be with the Dursleys in the letters he sent to his friends and the Order. Severus had started teaching both boys more defense and even some Dark Arts. Harry and Draco had gotten close as brothers, they fought, but they understood one another, having tasks thrust upon them both and dealing with a war did that to people. Harry and Severus had gotten close too, but in an entirely different manner. See, Harry had nightmares, and one night, Severus had woken to Harry screaming, and not wanting to be alone, so Severus had stayed with him until he had fallen asleep. That had not helped as not half an hour later, he was woken by a distraught Harry bursting through his door, frantically searching for Severus, thinking that he had been hurt or killed. This led to a very sleepy Severus letting Harry stay in his bed so that Harry wouldn't feel the need to wake him every half hour to check on him, or feel so alone. And ever since that night, Harry had continued to sleep in Severus's bed, snuggling up to him and even sleeping on him every night.
Harry hadn't known it at the time, but he had slowly been falling for the professor, where as Severus already knew that he had fallen. They had started a physical relationship about two weeks before Hogwarts was due to start, however Harry had decided not to return for his last year in favor of hunting down the remaining horcruxes with Severus and Draco. He had owled his friends to tell them, but never gave away his location. They had reluctantly decided to return to Hogwarts, especially when Harry insisted that he would need Hermione there to research the Hogwarts library in finding out everything about the Founders.
It was a warm summer day spent reading books about the Hogwarts founders, looking for some clue as to what Voldemort used for vessels. When Harry had decided that he was tired of just sitting next to Severus, and had laid his head in Severus's lap, propping his feet up on the armrests of the couch they were sitting on. Severus, merely glanced down before rolling his eyes and returning to his book. Soon, however, his hand had made its way to Harry's head and started playing with his hair. They had spent most of the afternoon like that, just reading and being close with each other.
That night, after dinner, they both ventured out to the small garden in the back of the house. Severus had started growing common herbs for potion making, and Harry helped to tend the garden. They sat on a bench, and Severus held Harry's hand, for the first time without it being a comforting gesture directly following a nightmare or some other trauma. Harry just smiled and turned to Severus.
"Seems like a perfect night"
"Perfect? I think it is merely adequate," Severus replied, and then Harry kissed him soundly on the lips. They quickly took it to the bedroom and just as they were cuddling, before slipping into sedated slumber Severus had to rethink his remark from earlier in the evening.
"I guess it has been a pretty perfect night, Potter"
"Severus," Harry yawned. "You just fucked me. I think you can call me Harry."
And from then on, he was 'Harry' to the Potions Master. In the months that they were together they were blissful. Harry had killed the Dark Lord, even dying in the process, but returning to life and to Severus once again. Severus was pardoned by the ministry while Arthur was minister directly after the downfall of Voldemort, and had heard Harry's story and what he knew from being in the Order. For a time they were both very happy, but Severus's past of being a Death Eater nagged him. How could he deserve love after causing so much pain, and this is what made him drive Harry away from him
"Just go! I don't deserve you anyway!" Severus screamed. They had been having this argument for ages, both were red faced and their eyes sparked with fury and passion that can only be born from love.
"You don't deserve me? What in the hell! You are such a git! I fucking love you, and you think you don't deserve love! You are a right piece of work, that's what you are!" Harry responded, equally as loud.
"Love you? You think I love you? You are just a lay, someone to release tension with," there. He said it. He twisted his own love into some sort of hate and drove away his one true love.
"Okay," Harry spoke softly, and then turned and went upstairs. Severus hadn't heard a word from him, the last noise he heard was the closing of Sirius's door, and a bath being drawn.
How Severus wished he could take that night away. That had been about three days ago. Severus had not washed, nor had he eaten since that day. His robes were still covered in Harry's blood. See, what Severus didn't know, was that Harry had drawn a bath and pulled out his razor. No one really knew how fragile Harry was, sure he had seen scars on his lover's thighs, but as they were white, and no new ones appeared, he didn't comment. Hell, he had scars like that too! Yet, the only thing keeping Harry together, was Severus. He didn't know how much Harry had relied on him until it was too late.
An hour after their fight, Severus was knocking on Harry's door asking to talk to him. When he got no response, he ventured in, seeing the light on in the bathroom, he opened the door. It was a sight that haunted him, causing him the sleepless nights and lack of appetite. He heard a scream, not knowing if it was his or not at the time, but the image of the bathtub's crimson water and Harry's slit arms, stomach, and thighs, were burned onto his soul. Draco rushed in, falling to his knees in front of Harry's body, shaking. Severus knew, that Draco would recover, soon.
Himself, however, it was less certain, especially as he now held in his hand a lethal dosage of Dreamless Sleep potion. Actually, it was twice amount of potion that would kill a small elephant, but Severus wanted to be sure. He had taken an anti-nausea potion just before. Still in his dirty robes, he held the vile to his lips.
"Sorry, Harry. Bottoms up," with that, he fell to the ground where Narcissa found him, having heard from Draco the state that he was in, she would arrive precisely four minutes after the potion could no longer be expelled from his system to save him.
Many people had attended Harry's funeral. Five had attended Severus's. Most had learned of their relationship after their deaths, some had been angry, most had been shocked, and some had found it tragically romantic.
Every year, on the second day after Harry died and two days prior to Severus dying, someone places a white rose on each grave. No one knows who does it, Draco has always tried to watch at least one grave to see who appears, yet no one does. Even after Narcissa died, and Draco became a name in old stories, the white roses appear. Every year. Legend has it, that it is the spirits of Severus and Harry reconciling in the after life. A white rose to show that they are forgiven for what has happened, or perhaps it shows that they are sorry, and wish to be forgiven. No one knows, but people still say that if you watch one grave all night, you will see the other place a rose on the grave maker, and see the couple hug before walking away, hand in hand.