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Spoilers Alert from the Sixth! Don't read if you don't want me to spoil!
Musing In The Night
'What?' He pondered in the middle of the night, 'Did you ever see in me?'
It'd been two peaceful years after the defeat of the greatest Dark Lords in history. Two happy years, in his opinion, spent with his lover who had finally gotten after so much had happened to them in the wizarding world.
His lover shifted beside him and he smiled gently, watching as the moonlight caressed his face like a lover.
Memories of the times spent with him flashed through his head and again, he wondered why he stayed with him.
The first time he saw him, he was a skinny, half-starved little boy who'd absolutely no idea that he was the center of triumph for the whole wizarding world. He remembered loathing him on sight, his tousled mop of ebony-black hair and developing facial features reminding him of the painful times his sire had inflicted on him. Also, because he was Sorted into Gryffindor after much consideration from the Hat, it gave him the opportunity to do as he pleased with the boy.
He watched as he made friends with a Mudblood and a Muggle-lover. In his eyes, they were the worst sort of beings ever conceived on the face of the Earth. An instant distrust and dislike was formed between them during the First Feast.
His intelligence and courage to stand up for what he believed in astounded him, but that quickly changed to anger when he noticed how the boy kept pointing his nose into things best left alone.
The second year came by quickly and he'd found himself missing the confrontations popping up in his potions class. Berating himself for those thoughts, he, once again found himself facing a half-starved boy, who'd the nerve 'not to consider the rules, being a celebrity'. The walls between them grew higher and thicker in each moment spent with the brat.
He had no notion, however, when the boy and his Mudblood-loving friends created the Polyjuice Potion. Of course it wasn't HE who'd created it, it was the know-it-all Mudblood who'd done all the work. Nevertheless, he was duly impressed.
He watched the development of the brat and was shocked when, at the Duelling Club, he revealed the fact that he was a Parselmouth, the same creature he'd served 12 years ago when the brat vanquished HIM.
Third year came along and he found himself wanting to comfort the teen when the news on Sirius Black surfaced. It seemed that fate destined him not to know his parents or immediate relatives. He'd been shocked of course when he found the brat with Lupin and Black. Of course he'd turn out just like his father.
The Triwizard tournament came along and he found himself worrying a bit as his name popped out the Goblet. He watched breathlessly as he dodged dragons and swam past merpeople. His only real concern was when he didn't show up after the maze. The Dark Mark burned and he knew, that somehow, they'd gotten to him and that HE had finally been resurrected.
He was required to teach the brat Occlumency during fifth and strangely, that didn't prompt the annoyance that occurred every time he saw the brat. He watched as he broke through the defences, a little boy being tortured mercilessly from a fat pig, a toddler being refused love in a cramped playpen and all the times when he was forced to cook, clean and fix everything. His status there at 4 Privet Drive was horrid and he could see that he was little more then a degraded house-elf, maybe even less. There was no sign of the supposed 'Boy-Who-Lived' in that cramped section they called a house. He could see now that every defiant act portrayed in Hogwarts and in his 'home' was only a mask to further protect himself. He could tell, because he too constantly wore a mask as a barrier to the outside world.
He found him almost constantly in trouble with the hag Dolores Umbridge. Once, he caught a glimpse of 'I must not tell lies' on the back on his right hand written in reddened skin. Any show of caring could only ruin his image and reputation of being a snarky, greasy-git bastard in the school so he'd done nothing.
He was surprised and outrage when he found that the sill celebrity had ran off to the Ministry of Magic to rescue his 'supposedly' imprisoned godfather. Tipping off both Dumbledore and the rest of the Order of Phoenix, he arrived just in time to see Lucius Malfoy chasing the idiots from the Hall of Prophecy. He regretted tipping off Voldemort and wasn't surprised when he was Crucioed for a week during the summer because he'd only heard half the true prophecy 16 years ago.
Sirius Black died through the Veil and though his satisfaction was great, so was his empathy for him, who'd lost the only person who'd made him feel safe. His emerald eyes were dulled with grief and hopelessness. For the first time in his life, he wanted to scoop in up and reassure him and , yes, there was some one who cared for him even if he didn't notice.
His prayers were answered in sixth year when Dumbledore announce that Slughorn was to teach Potion and he, finally was to take up Defence Against the Dart Arts. That year, he initiated the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa to help look out for her son in HIS plan. He watched as Slughorn announced Harry was the most gifted Potions maker he'd ever come across in 25 years and wondered how that happened. Did he somehow suppress the abilities of him?
He came upon them in an abandoned girl's lavatory and was horrified to see him cast 'Sectumsempra' on Malfoy, the boy he was supposed to be protecting. For Merlin's sake, that was his spell! How dare he? Just like his father when he'd stolen 'Levicorpus' from his book. How dare they!
He had a suspicion and that suspicion was proven when the image of his sixth year textbook flashed through his head as he pushed through the weak barrier of his mind. His growing affection for him suddenly was pushed aside with anger. How dare he mock him? Him,the Half-Blood Prince! It was he who'd successfully helped him through all his potions! He who'd done all the work and not the brat standing in front of him!
He watched with some regret as he was forced to cast 'Avada Kedavra' on the only man who'd trusted him, Albus Dumbledore. He watched the look of betrayal steal across his face and then he was forced to flee with young Malfoy in front of him. He'd known that Malfoy didn't have the nerve to actually kill Dumbledore.
Seventh year passed in Hogwarts and Minerva McGonagall was proclaimed Headmistress. He was surprised to note that the brat didn't go that year. Interestingly, he was regretting his choice of having to kill Dumbledore because he knew that he'd have more sway then the madman he served no longer. It took him away but he finally figured out how to take off the Dark Mark cast upon him 35 years ago. It was a difficult spell that invoked the right of blood and the offering of one's soul freely to the demon Hades but by the time he was done, his left arm was smooth with no indication that the Dark Mark had dominated it for 35 years. He finally allowed his affection for the brat to grow and by Merlin, did it! There was only one photo of the brat in the Daily Prophet that year and that was of him dressed in tight leather pants and a loose fitting silver t-shirt while cautiously looking for someone or something. Finally, he realized that he was of age and that the short-skinny little boy he'd seen seven years ago had now grown into a handsome, confident young man at the prime of his life.
He was with him as he battled the Dark Lord. He saw the suspicion that developed between the last time they saw each other and found that he could actually feel hurt again. That suspicious and hatred-filled look shot straight to his heart. That look quickly turned to dismissal. He felt hurt. Sure, he used to do it to him all the time but he didn't know how it actually felt until he turned that look onto him.
Hoards of Death Eaters had poured in and he fought along side the Order of the Phoenix. The Dark Lord wasn't surprised to see him on that side, which was amazing, given the amount of trust he'd had with him.
At one point, he'd actually took a Crucio meant for him. He looked at him in shock, then suspicion and faced off another Death Eater.
He wanted to cry, something he hadn't done since he was a child. Why couldn't he accept him? Why? Was there to be no forgiveness for him?
The battle ended when he pulled out a golden cup. You see, the cup once was the property of Helga Hufflepuff, now the resting place for HIS soul fragments.
'You-Know-Who' gave a scream of outrage when he saw that. With a smirk worthy of a Slytherin, he started a complicated spell to destroy only the soul residing inside and not the cup.
The battle for the wizarding world began. He'd stood with the rest of the Order, not that they welcomed him much, in order to see the battle going on inside the protective barrier.
At last, the battle was over as he stumbled away from the barrier. He was the first to reach him and he shook him off, hatred flaring slightly in his battle-worn eyes.
He stepped back and let Pomfrey, who was still remarkably alive to patch him up.
It seemed as though forgiveness was out of the question. Merlin, no one wanted to go near him and all around him were conversations of how ruthlessly he killed Dumbledore and what a bastard he was.
Admitting to himself that the affection he'd nurtured over the past few months had turned into love was a hard thing but once he did, it turned to amazement. It was an alien concept to him. Love? Snapes weren't allowed to love. But it was true. And Snapes always went after what they wanted.
He'd set out to gain his trust. It was difficult because: one, he still hated him for killing Dumbledore and two, he hated him treating him like dirt at school. Every time he saw a look of pure loathing directed his way, he flinched inwardly.
After what seemed like eternity to him but was only a year, he opened up a bit. Everything spilled out of him when he found him drunk one night in the corridors screaming for Sirius and his parents. When he saw him, he went mad and started attacking him with his fists.
He knew he'd deserved it and stood to take the punishment. He'd do whatever it took to gain acceptance.
Sobbing as he sank down, he, for the first time, comforted him with soothing arms and the promise that everything would be all right.
As time went by, he became more trusting but still retained that slightly wary stance. They talked like ordinary friends. He'd come back as the Potions Master and surprisingly, the brat had accepted the position for Defence Against the Dark Arts. With his experience in vanquishing the Dark Lord, it seemed like he was the best choice.
They kept seeing each other and his love blossomed under the closeness he had with him. One night, they were chatting about life as usual and as he stared into the fire, his emerald eyes soft with memories, he suddenly found himself short of breath. Leaning over, he gave him a chaste kiss, noting the shock in emerald eyes.
Hurriedly, he pulled back, afraid that he had overstepped his boundaries and found that he was pulled back for a more passionate kiss. Things progressed from there.
Ever since then, their friendship progressed quickly with passion. He was afraid that, with time, he'd come to realize that he was having a relationship with an ex-Death Eater and leave him for better, more honourable men. He didn't tell him that; this was buried deep in his heart but it did surface once in a while – more so when he saw his lover laughing and having playful banter around younger men like Oliver Wood and Charlie Weasley.
"We need to talk," he had said earlier this evening.
He waited in fear for the rejection he was sure to come up. He didn't want to leave him. But how could he keep him back, if his happiness was the price? How could he stand seeing him with other lovers, other men a thousand times better then him? How could he live his life without him! He'd become too important in the last few months to lose him at this stage.
"What'd you want?" he snarled, something quite unlike him from the past few months they spent together. He noted the hurt expression on his face and suddenly felt guilty for having done that. He didn't want to say anything, but could he just stand to watch him walk away?
"I…," he said hesitantly. He was rather fidgety tonight.
'Here it comes', he thought as his heart broke. He shut his eyes, unable to keep looking at him during this period of rejection and dismissal.
"I love you," he said, squeezing his emerald eyes shut.
Elation spread through his body. He was wrong! Thank Merlin! Eagerly, he swept his young lover away into a night of passion and gentleness.
Looking down at him tenderly, he smoothed down a lock of ebony hair and sighed in contentment.
"I love you too, Harry James Potter."
Finite
Notes: Hope you liked it! Please look to the bottom left-hand corner for reviewers.