Title: But We're Not Married... The Prequel
Author: RonsPigwidgeon
Pairing: SS/HP
Betas: wwmrsweasleydo
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Have you been wondering how Harry and Severus grew to become lovers in But We're Not Married...? Here is the story of their coming together, just as Harry was about to fall apart. Told from Harry's PoV.
A/N: This is the first part in a second mini-series that prequels But We're Not Married... I'm hoping to explain how they came to be together and what exactly 'together' has meant for them. I know there has been a lot of confusion as to the nature of their relationship. I hope this helps. And if there are any particular points that you would like me to address, feel free to let me know by review. Enjoy!
Part .02
He was warm and comfortable and the room was quiet except for the even breathing of the body underneath him. Harry stared off into the night, thinking. This was the third night in a week that he had found himself in Snape's bed, in Snape's arms. Over the last four months, he had spent more time in Snape's bed than in his own. People were going to start talking if he kept this up. Not that he hadn't already heard the riot act from Ron for 'hanging about with that nasty git'. As if Harry intentionally broke through Snape's wards and crawled into his bed every night. Thankfully, Snape didn't seem to mind, at least not after that first time when he'd nearly walked off the fourth floor and killed himself. He usually just grunted at Harry in the morning and went into the bathroom without saying anything. Harry was grateful that he never said anything. It was a bit more than Harry could reckon himself, and it was a relief that he didn't have to talk about it.
Not that he wanted to move, either. As much as he avoided thinking about it, he liked waking up in Snape's bed. He had never been one for being touched, but something about being held so securely in another person's arms made him feel safe for the first time in his life, and it helped him to sleep better. And so, rather than crawling out from under the arm and shuffling back to his own bed, Harry closed his eyes again and fell back to sleep.
He was in the Great Hall, kneeling in front of Voldemort. Someone was screaming, but it took him a long moment to figure out who. Teddy, writhing in his dead mother's arms, was being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange while the other Death Eaters laughed at him. The little body was curling in unnatural angles, his little face purple with agony and uncontrollable screams. Harry tried to get up, to stop them, but he couldn't stand and his wand was nowhere in sight. Voldemort was laughing at him as he called out for Bellatrix to stop. Harry thrashed on the ground, screaming, trying to get to Teddy, but to no avail.
After what felt like an eternity, Teddy's little voice stopped screaming and his little body slumped and was still. Harry screamed more, tears streaming down his face. Bellatrix only laughed at him as she sent Teddy's and Tonks' bodies over to a growing pile of others. Hermione was in that pile, as was Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Fleur, Neville, and Dean. All of their bodies were bloodied and broken. It made Harry want to vomit. It made him want to scream until his voice box collapsed. He banged his fists against the floor and cried out his pain. So much pain. So much loss. And all he could do was cry. He buried his face into the shoulder of the body that held him close as the scene faded away to that of a dark bedroom. Strong hands smoothed up and down his back, soothing his sorrow. He could barely breathe for the pain in his chest, so he let it out, sobbing uncontrollably until there was nothing left inside him.
"It's all right," a deep voice whispered in his ear as fingers smoothed the hair behind his ear and combed through his neck hair.
He took deep breaths, filling his lungs with air and then pushing it out with a physical effort. After a few minutes, his chest loosened and he was able to breathe naturally again. He pulled a little away from the arms holding him, blushing and a little ashamed of himself. "Sorry," he mumbled, trying to pull further away, but Snape wouldn't let him.
"Don't be an idiot. Do you think yourself above crying? Everyone has to mourn, even the Savior of the Wizarding World. Can you go back to sleep or shall I make us some tea?"
Harry closed his eyes, only to be met with the vision of Teddy limp in Tonks' dead arms. "Tea," he said, sitting up as Snape did. They shuffled into the living room, and Harry sat on the sofa while Snape went to the side board.
"You failed to take your potion tonight, I see," Snape said over the tea pot.
Harry sighed and tugged at his hair. "I ran out, and I forgot to ask you for more."
"And rather than coming to me before bed, you chose to come to me in the middle of the night to cry on my shoulder instead?"
Harry blushed again, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry about that. God, I'm so embarrassed. I haven't cried like that since Cedric Diggory died."
"Perhaps it was for the best, then. A person cannot endure the level of loss and personal sacrifice that you have experienced without allowing himself to mourn. It isn't healthy. I speak from personal experience."
Harry watched him pour brandy into the tea cups before the tea, but he accepted his cup without saying anything and drank it, the burn of the alcohol settling in his chest and soothing the previous ache. "Easier said than done, I think. I've never had time to mourn before."
Snape settled next to him on the sofa, his arm draping across the back so that he faced Harry. "You have nothing but time now."
"Yeah, I guess. Maybe I should take a day off helping here and go visit Andromeda and Teddy. I haven't seen them since the memorial service." He leant his head back and Snape began playing with his hair. It felt nice, so Harry let him.
"Were you dreaming of Teddy? Your screams didn't have words."
"Yeah, Bellatrix was torturing him. Everyone else was dead in a big pile, and Voldemort had won. It was… terrifying. Mostly because it could have happened."
"Easily. But it didn't. He is spread to the elements and will never return. You are safe, as are your surviving friends and family. I won't say that there will never be anything to worry about again because that would be lying, but there is nothing imminent. We have time."
Time. That was the strange bit about it. He'd never dreamed of making it past seventeen, so he never had to stop and think about what would happen after. How he would deal with everything he'd gone through. What he would do with all that time, once he had it. Harry fiddled with a hole in his pajamas trousers and let Snape pull him into the crook of his arm. He had time to think about what was happening between them now, too, but it was better when he was distracted. "Who do you miss most?"
"Lily. She was my best friend, my co-conspirator when we were small, my first love. For a long time, she was my everything. And after everything I did to protect her and try to keep her safe, one foolishly overheard conversation, and I was the person to bring her to her death. I will never forgive myself for that."
"How were you to know that Voldemort would interpret the prophecy the way he did? He could have just as easily gone after Neville. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself for something you did when you weren't much older than I am now."
Snape didn't say anything, but he continued to comb his fingers through Harry's hair. Harry listened to his heartbeat through his pajamas shirt, slow and steady. "I miss Colin Creevey. He used to annoy the shite out of me with that camera, but he was so enthusiastic all the time, you know? Just full of life. And he was so excited to be a part of the Wizarding World. And what did he get back from it? A killing curse and probably torture beforehand."
"War is cruel, especially to the innocent."
"Yeah. Like Amelia Smith. Do you remember her? She was the relief seeker for Hufflepuff. Tiny thing with curly red hair and big, blue eyes. Hermione tried to get her to join the DA, but she was too scared. Ron said they saw her get bitten by Greyback. She was only fifteen."
"Mmm, Greyback was a vicious mutt. I'm glad he's been put down. He took Benedict Luthorne as well. Twelve-year-old Slytherin. He was going to be a Potions Master, I could already tell."
It went on for hours, their reminiscence, until the tea was cold and the sun was up and it was much too close to breakfast for either to find their bed. When neither could put off the inevitable, Harry finally un-lodged himself from the crook of Snape's arm and bid him farewell until breakfast. When he returned to his rooms, he ignored Ron's grumbles about greasy bats and went to get dressed for the day. Despite only getting a few hours of interrupted sleep, he felt better than he could remember feeling, ever, and he spent the rest of the day with a smile on his face.