Author's Note: Hello, world! No, I'm not dead, and I really am sorry this wasn't out sooner. I worked on it a little at a time, for far little time, during times that were greatly spaced out. But it's here now. Taa daa!
Also, chapter one was used a lot as a reference point, so if you haven't read it in a while, you may want to hit the back button and refresh your memory. There is little talking until the end, with Severus' thoughts making up for conversation. His thoughts reference to Harry's monologing in the previous chapter, so again, revisit if you've forgotten anything.
And yes, you read right- this is Severus' point of view. Yay! I must say I think my Severus leaves something to be desired, but hopefully I'll improve on his point of view. Our sense of humor is closely related though, so I tried to add that in wherever possible. Now you get to read my pitiful attempts at being funny using the mind of a cynical man. Yay you!
Disclaimer: I am simply the puppet master, manipulating JKR's characters much like a Dumbledore of real life. Don't look too close, you'll see the strings connected to the limbs of the characters... dance, puppets! Dance!
Substance
"Five points from Gryffindor for loitering in the hallways, Jordan!" He snapped at the seventh year accomplice to the Weasley Twins, watching him scurry away before he lost any more points.
For once, Severus Snape was having a good day. He'd bragged to Minerva about the new recruits for Slytherin's quidditch team, he'd given out two detentions, taken twenty-five points total from Gryffindor house, and Albus hadn't offered him a lemon drop once. It had been a satisfying and productive day. Now, the only thing that would make it better would be if he got Potter for something.
Speak of the devil... he thought, as he backpedaled to look out the window, only to see Gryffindor's Golden Boy sitting out on the roof across from the turret Severus was in. What was the insufferable brat doing now? No doubt breaking the rules, once again.
Unfortunately, Severus didn't think there was anything in the rules that didn't allow the students to climb up onto the roof. He scowled. Well, he'd find something to pin on the boy.
He crossed to the other side of the castle, disillusioning himself and standing out on the balcony, waiting to hear or see anything that he could use to get Potter in trouble. Nothing happened for the longest time, and Severus was glancing at his watch to see if he could get Potter for being out after curfew, when he heard him say softly, "I'll be back."
And then a very distracted looking Potter had climbed down off the roof, passed Severus on the balcony, and left. Frowning, Severus followed the boy's steps in reverse, climbing up to the roof to see what was up there. There was nothing. Just a bunch of dark grey shingles clinging to an almost-flat roof. He turned, and if he was any other man, his breath would have hitched at the sight of Hogwart's grounds at night, with the gently swaying grasses that rippled like a dark green sea, and the lake reflecting the twinkling night sky back at him. But he was Severus Snape, and so he simply admired the picture for a few moments before returning to his previous thoughts.
If Potter was coming back, he could always find away to get the boy in trouble. He knew it was an act that he put on the the rest of the school; the sweet, innocent golden boy. Severus knew in actuality, that he was just as conceited as his father, and that the boy loved attention, and he could break the rules just because he was 'Harry Potter'.
Making a quick decision, he cast a spell on the balcony, that would alert him to when Potter arrives. a portkey was fashioned out of a spare quill he kept on his person at all times, just in case. Nodding decisively, he left, prepared to catch Potter at... something whenever he came back.
...
An alarm went off in Severus' head. To any normal person, this would be a cause of concern, but the man grinned, something terrifying, and had anyone been present they probably would have screamed and ran for their lives. A long-fingered, pale hand reached towards an inconspicuous brown quill, and Severus was standing out on the roof just as Potter's head of messy black hair popped over the side of the roof.
Severus could tell almost immediately that Potter knew something was different. The boy tensed up and looked around, even tried calling out a tentative hello, but if Potter thought he would be answering then he was sorely mistaken. Severus watched for a few moments as he thought, and Severus thought that the boy would either leave, or demand that he show himself.
Surprisingly, he did neither, simply sitting and saying that they could share the roof. Severus frowned again. Potter was just putting on his act. He wouldn't want to show his true self to him when he knew he was there, and especially when he didn't know who he was. But the frown remained, because for an odd reason, that didn't sound quite right.
They sat (technecally, Potter sat, while Severus stood) out there for a while, and soon he got bored with the view and so he watched Potter instead. What was the boy thinking? Why did he come up here? Why wasn't he trying to figure out who he was 'sharing' the roof with? So many questions that he couldn't ask. If he wanted to catch Potter at something, he'd have to remain incognito. Of course, he wasn't going to do anything, now that he knew someone was here, but...
But something made him stay.
And at the end of an extremely long period of time, just after the sun's disappearence, when Potter stood up to leave, Severus realized a bit too late that he'd been drifing closer to the boy. He backed up quickly, and saw what might have been a grin as he left.
...
Severus continued to return. Each time, he grew more doubtful of finding something to pin on the boy, yet he still came back. Sometimes Potter would be silent, saying only a quiet hello and goodbye, and sometimes he would express simple things that were on his mind. Severus wasn't sure which days he - begrudgingly (or so he told himself) - liked more.
After a while, there came a day when Potter didn't greet him. He looked distracted, preoccupied. When he finally spoke, it was to say that he needed a pair of ears to listen. Severus took an instinctive step forward. Something was telling him this would be important.
Though he thought Potter a fool for divulging this information with someone he didn't even know, he listened carefully, hearing a retelling of the Dark Lord's return. He had been told before by Lucius Malfoy, but never in such detail. He would twitch slightly whenever Potter said the name. He almost wished that he could as well, but cowardice prevented this.
He was - dare he even think it? - touched by the boy's caring and worry over the half giant, Hagrid. While the two were not close, Severus respected his knowledge of magical and non-magical creatures and of the forest. Often they would go together into the forest, so that Hagrid could watch his back and direct him to the plants and herbs that Severus could use in his potions. He knew that Hagrid was off seeing if he could persuade the giants to join the light, but with Potter's reminder, he suddenly felt a twinge of worry for him.
Severus was surprised to note that Hagrid was the boy's first friend, and was actually angry at Potter's muggle relatives for their treatment of him. It was a far cry from Potter, the Pampered Prince that he had imagined. Suddenly, the boy's thinness and slight hight deficiency made more sense.
He was treated to Harry Potter's life story, but it wasn't including the details Severus thought Potter might brag about. In his first year, he told of making two friends, and feeling like he belonged. He touched only briefly on the stone. In his second year, he spoke about the school's abandonment, and how he felt he had lost everyone. He admitted that he was scared and horrified and worried down in the chamber, for both his and the Weasley girls' lives.
An involuntary shudder went down his spine at what Potter heard when Dementors drew near. He couldn't bring a sneer to his face when he heard of Potter meeting Lupin and Black. Not now. Not here.
And Potter didn't brag of being a champion in the tournament the year previous. He said instead of being afraid, and of being hurt by the brief abandonment of the youngest Weasley male.
Potter glanced up at the sky, and Severus followed his gaze, wondering when it had gotten so late. He promised to come back. Severus would hold him to that.
...
It was a grumpy and disgruntled Potter who greeted him, wasting no time in beginning his rant. Severus found himself shaking his head at the petty rows of teenagers, and then trying to contain a bout of spontanious laughter - laughter? What is this thing you call, laughter? - when the words they should just bloody snog each other already came out of Potter's mouth, in the same breath as just jealous that he can beat her at chess.
It was also ironic that the youngest Weasley could beat Granger, supposedly smartest in the year, at an intellectual and strategic game.
Potter was making his minimal emotions a roller coaster, because just after trying to hold in laughter for the first time in a long time, his heart - he supposed this proved he had one... - went out to him, as he confessed that he would feel left out, a third wheel, and then apologized for feeling that way. Severus took a few steps closer, for some reason thinking it wrong that the boy would feel bad for experiencing a common feeling and emotion.
He was greeted with a side-view of Potter's face, vibrant green eyes dipped down to the shingles, full pink lips parted to quietly reveal his longing, his wish, that someone would see him. Not Harry Potter, but just Harry. 'Just Harry'. His exact words. They sounded wrong. Someone like Har- Potter, shouldn't be just. He was more than Severus had imagined, layers upon layers. Circles within circles.
And then he brought up the Chang girl. He burned with an emotion that felt familiar... what was it? He repressed his emotions too much to know. Anger? No... it was close... sadness? Not quite. A mixture of both? He tried to push it away, but it stayed in the back of his mind, sitting there.
The emotion abated when H- Potter explained that he couldn't love her. What did that mean, though? For both the emotion and for Ha- Potter?
They sat in silence for a while longer, before Harry - POTTER, dammit! - promised to be back.
...
Severus was there as a furious Harry Potter climbed up onto the roof from the balcony, sounding too mad to put the correct words together. Severus could think of only one 'she' that could cause this state. Minerva had been complaining in the staff room - to the Headmaster and the heads of houses - about the boy's numerous detentions with Dolores Umbridge.
Severus hated that woman. While he was mean, unfair, rude, and sometimes a bit cruel to the student population, he did not terrorise them. He did not control thier lives, or what they said, or what they did. Umbridge did all of those things, and more. Also, the woman's ignorance and devotion to Fudge made her blind.
On top of all this, the only thing the woman wore was pink. Such a putrid color. It was a loud and bright pink, too, not even a soft pink, like Harry's lips... wait, what?
He tried to focus more on Harry's ranting, and his suspicions were confirmed when the boy said something about detentions.
Severus didn't even notice anything was wrong, until his posture differed. Harry usually sat curled up into a ball, with the tips of his shoes haning over the edge of the roof. It was the same, safe for one arm was excluded. It was covered in a sticky red substance. Blood. The hell? He thought, suspicious.
He was too preoccupied staring at Harry's hand to register the bitter joke about Umbridge's teaching. His question was soon answered. "Every night, more lines than before. I swear, that blood quill is going to etch through my bone."Lines. Blood quill. Bone.
That. Hag.
Severus drew closer, looking at the boy's hand. Beneath a red splattering of blood, he could make out an infected scar. I must not tell lies.
He was going to kill her. He would kill her with his own two hands, that way no one would trace the killing curse back to his wand. A blood quill? How in the seven bloody hells had she gotten one? They were all supposed to be destroyed, and illegal! He would get her for this, oh, would he get her.
He wondered if Harry was the only one she was abusing. Then he decided it wouldn't matter.
Since when was he so protective of Harry, of all people?
... Since when did he call the boy Harry?
He was loosing his mind. That was the only explanation.
But the worst part was, Harry didn't even seem concerned at the blood flow. He tore off some fabric of the black robes he wore with ease, and fitted it around his hand, able to tie a secure knot with one hand. He had done this before. He had practice.
Harry admitted that himself, seconds later. Severus saw red at the end, adding the three muggles to his list. The list.
Harry's cousin was the favorited one. He bullied others into ignoring Harry. Harry was shoved in a cupboard. The uncle was violent. The aunt turned a blind eye to this, and was best at verbally abusing. Oh yes. They were on his list.
The wistful tone his voice took towards the end, made Severus realise the only thing Harry really wanted was a family who cared. That must be why he was so cluse to his friends and the Weasleys. A surrogate family.
He didn't know what made him do it, but like the other times, it felt right to sit down as well, and he saw Harry from a whole new perspective. A closer perspective. Harry's eyes, the vibrant emerald green, looked different up close. Around the pupil and the edge of the iris, it was a slightly darker green, a shade different from forest green, fading seamlessly into the emerald and finally in the very middle, a green so bright and vibrant that Severus immediately thought of the killing curse.
He really was loosing it, wasn't he?
He remembered the real reason for sitting down. To offer comfort. Now, Severus Snape was not good at comfort. He doubted he's ever really comforted someone in his life. He may go as far to say that his 'people skills' left something to be desired. But when Severus let his hand glide up to Harry's shoulder, it felt right. Like that shoulder was perfectly moulded for his hand. Or the other way around.
He was rewarded greatly. Harry turned his head and smiled brightly, a true smile, that made Harry's eyes light up and crinkle at the corners. Severus decided he liked that smile.
That night, he stayed longer than he should have.
...
It was official. He had gone insane.
The very next day, he had brought a bowl of murtlap essence for the boy. Since when did he care about Harry? Probably around the time when he had started referring to him as 'Harry', but it was a loosing battle to try and call the boy by his last name, in his mind, anyway.
But he decided it was worth it, when Harry smiled again and thanked him for it, sitting and putting his hand in the bowl, the only thing between them. Severus watched as the mixture turned pink with blood.
Severus couldn't stop himself from touching Harry again, even if it was only a hand on his shoulder. He was asked if he made it. Severus quickly developed a system; one squeeze for yes, two for no. He implimented this, only to expell air in a silent chuckle at Harry's response. No, he was most definately not a ghost. He wondered if the boy had honestly thought so.
This was followed by a conversation of sorts, beginning with a question Severus didn't really know himself, followed by multiple questions about his identity - Umbridge? Really? - and ending with a promise to reveal himself one day. Severus had almost said no, but the hope in Harry's voice had prompted otherwise. Of course, he wasn't planning on telling any time soon. Perhaps on his death bed.
Severus was surprised to note that Harry didn't really hate all Slytherins. While he was slightly biased, Severus didn't think that being Slytherin constituted being evil or being shunned by three fourths of the wizarding world.
It was a rational way to look at things, and Severus was impressed and - pleased? - that Harry shared the same views.
It got late, and the starry sky was perfect in it's clearness. Harry released a sigh and laid down, one arm under his head, the other hand still in the murky essence of murtlap. Severus hesitantly followed, mirroring his motions, but instead with both hands behind his head. His eyes didn't exactly stay on the stars, though.
"I'm glad you're here." Severus was glad he was there, too.
...
It was winter break, and since the Dark Lord did not want to pull Severus away from his duties as head of Slytherin house and Potions professor - and probably just wanted a mass of dirt and information on Dumbledore and the Order at once - had called Severus away. It was during a meeting that the alarm in his head went off. He had been dreading this.
Harry Potter, you have the worst timing ever.
He couldn't leave, though. He waited out the alarm, which faded as soon as Harry left the balcony, meaning he was up on the roof. He was expecting to hear it in a few minute's time, when the boy left through the balcony when he discovered Severus was not there. This was not the case.
He got steadily more worried and distracted, until finally the meeting was over, and the Dark Lord insisted that he stay at base for the night, sure that Severus was over-working himself. He wasn't being nice. He was insuring the survival of his most valuable spy.
Severus couldn't very well leave, not when the Dark Lord implored that you stay. He couldn't sleep for worry, but he made sure that in the morning, he looked well-rested and recovered. The Dark Lord still didn't allow him leave, instead setting him to work on a potion. He couldn't even tell what it was, he was so distracted, but he followed the instructions to the letter, handing the finished potion to his Lord. He was finally allowed to leave. He flooed to his chambers, slammed his hand down on the quill on his desk, and was on the roof.
There was Harry, curled up in a ball on the snow-covered roof, shivering violently. Blue lips revealing chattering teeth somehow spit out the words, "You're back." Severus couldn't contain his gasp as he practically flew to Harry's side, feeling his ice-cold face as the multi-green colored eyes opened and tried to see him.
Severus pushed on the boy's shoulder, perhaps harder than he should have in his worry, prompting him into explaining. Harry waited for me. The thought would have filled him with another one of those unidentifiable emotions, had he not been out of his mind with fright for the already fragile boy.
He picked Harry up with ease, carrying him under his upper back and neck, and under his legs, rushing to the hospital wing. Harry was out like a light, snuggling into the warmth, and therefore Severus, subconciously. An odd but somewhat pleasant feeling filled him, and he set the boy down on a hospital bed, and sat back, still invisible, to see Pomfrey coming out of her office, gasping when she saw Harry.
He stayed there as she poured Pepper-Up potion down his throat, cast multiple heating charms, and piled blankets high on the shivering frame. He stayed as the shivering stopped, as night fell, and then as dawn broke, not having slept a wink in two days.
Harry suddenly gasped and threw off the blankets, sweat plastering black hair to his head, legs spread slightly, and panting heavily. Severus' mind was just as suddenly filled with numerous inappropriate thoughts.
What is happening to me?
He pushed those thoughts away, and drew up a chair to sit closer to the boy.
A boy, that's all he is. You'd be a pedophile, Severus. He'd never be interested in the greasy potions professor.
With those reasurring thoughts, he focused on Harry's question, and mostly the upset tone to his voice. He couldn't continue to hurt Harry. But if he didn't show up, this would happen again. What if next time, Harry stayed out there longer, and died of the cold, or starvation? But, surely the boy had some form of self-preservation? He looked at the pleading expression on the boy's face. Severus knew the roof was an escape of sorts. He knew Harry viewed him as a friend.
Severus laid his hand on Harry's shoulder, and it fit like it belonged there. It was supposed to be reassuring, but was Severus reassuring himself that Harry was safe, or was he reassuring Harry that he would return?
...
It was with a hot surge of anger that Severus realized Harry was crying upon his arrival to the roof. Since winter break, he had come to terms with his Harry problem. He had figured it out. The reason he continued to return. The reason he stopped trying to get the boy in trouble - since they had stayed out well past curfew quite a few times, now - and the reason his dreams were filled with a certain messy-haired, green-eyed boy... man? He had learned that Harry had to grow up quickly. The weight of the wizarding world was not a burden for a child. Even before Harry came to Hogwarts, he had to learn the hard way early on about the harshness of the world.
Severus doubted Harry had ever been a mere boy or child.
It didn't make Severus' problem any more right, however. Morally, this was wrong. But Severus was not a good person - or so he told himself - and so he couldn't do the right thing and stop.
So it was with a perfectly justifiable anger that Severus saw the pearly, opaque tears sliding slowly down Harry's face, mingling with a bloody cut on his lower cheek bordering his jaw-line. The area around was red. Someone had hit him.
"When you try to suppress your tears, it only hurts more." Harry explained, sitting in his usual spot and curling up into a ball. Without a thought, Severus sat down behind him and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling the slightly shaking frame to his chest. If he had a heart, it would be aching slightly for the young man who had probably never been held when he cried before.
Like his actions before, this felt right, but in his mind where a corner of rational thought remained, he knew this was oh-so-wrong.
He couldn't help but feel elated when Harry relaxed in his arms. He had been tense. Lids came down over multi-green colored eyes, but the salt-water tears still managed to escape.
When Harry spoke again, it was with great effort to keep his voice from shaking. He struggled to find the right words, and when he did his sentences were choppy and his voice was closed-off. Weasley. Was Severus' first thought. He's on the list.
"He freaked out. Punched me. Because I'm gay."
Severus stiffened as Harry curled up even tighter into himself. Gay? He thought, numbly. Harry Potter, Golden Boy of Gryffindor, Chosen One, Savior of the Wizarding World was gay? He could imagine the newpaper titles if the press ever found out. A part of him was jumping for joy, if anything inside Severus Snape could ever jump, much less for joy, of all things. He would admit to his heart skipping, and his arms relaxing, but he would never admit to feeling joy.
But he listened silently, ignoring his messed up and immoral emotions and thoughts, acting like a person should. He made it clear that he was definately not disgusted with Harry, and when he heard Weasley had said so, he decided then and there to make his life torturous. When he heard Harry desperately shouting the offensive and derogatory names Weasley had called him, he decided to destroy the little brat. When Harry said Weasley had called him a pervert, and the speech after, he decided that there wasn't a chance in hell the bastard was going to survive.
While he appreciated Harry not getting into trouble by hitting Weasley back, he thought it was downright idiotic that he wouldn't because they used to be friends. A betrayal of that nature broke a friendship, stomped on it, ripped it into tiny peices, and put it through a shreder. It was over. Done.
And then Harry had the nerve to apologize! It wasn't him who needed to apologize, oh no. Harry moved to turn away, but Severus just held him tighter. Harry belonged in his arms, and Severus wasn't letting him get away so easily. He was sure he had seen a smile on Harry's face, before he drifed off, perfectly at ease in his arms. Severus wondered how this could be, before remembering that Harry didn't know who he was.
He spent over an hour watching the Gryffindor sleep, allowing wishes and hopes fill his mind, of Harry falling asleep in his arms, knowing who he was, and perfectly happy. He wished there was a day when Harry would be happy. He wished...
When had he become such a sap?
Probably around the time you fell for him. A voice piped up helpfully in his mind.
He shook Harry awake, watching him blink around blearily before focusing on the shingles. Severus accepted his thanks, helped him up, and embraced him, trying to convey a lot of things, before letting go.
...
Harry began speaking right away as he got to the roof, as if he'd had this on his mind for a while. It had become custom for Severus to sit behind Harry and put his arms around the youth, pulling him to his chest. Severus did so immediately, holding himself in a certain way to let Harry know he was curious.
So, the golden boy didn't want to be an auror? He knew Harry enough by now to know there was more to him than met the eye, but he had thought he was dead-set on being a dark-wizard catcher. He should have known he was wrong.
He listened to Harry's reasoning, knowing that the words "When Voldemort's dead," was not cockyness; the young man just couldn't even consider the alternitive. Severus didn't like to either.
He was surprised as well to Harry's admission that he wouldn't want to be a professional quidditch player. Any team would sign him up in a heartbeat, if they didn't already know what a good player he was. Also, professional players were in the media all the time. Harry would be in the paper every day, for being both a quidditch star and the Boy-Who-Lived. He knew now that Harry didn't like the publicity. So, he supposed it made sense.
Harry... a professor. He could see it. As one of Harry's professors, he knew all his grades, and Defense was his best subject. It was a good choice. And if the fact that he was glad Harry would be staying as a teacher, assuring that Severus would see him at least once a day had any sway in his liking for Harry's chosen career, well...
He had to agree with Harry in his opinion that he'd be five times the teacher Umbridge is. Perhaps ten. Quirrel was at least five times better, and he'd had a fake speech impediment and Voldemort growing out of his head! Lockhart would only be three times better; but only because he had come up with the duelling club, giving Harry his favorite spell - Expelliarmus, along with the life lesson of never trusting a word the conceited man said, after all.
Suddenly Harry smiled, and Severus had to laugh - silently, of course - of Harry's opinion that he would hate him. He knew all the students thought he was out for the Defense position, but that was only as a cover in case any students with Death Eater families reported that it didn't seem like Severus wanted to sway impressionable children to the Dark by subtly teaching them Dark Arts. But most of the time he was just suspicious of them, or had a personal vendetta. He was really quite happy with Potions.
They were perfectly happy to sit in silence, and Severus watched as Harry thought. It was troubled thought, however, and so he lended his support by placing his cheek on the black mop of hair, inhaling Harry's 'just after the rain' smell. He held Harry tighter as he relaxed, letting out his breath the same time Harry sighed. They were content.
...
The sky was cloudy. Brooding, perhaps. Severus hadn't even waited for the alarm to go off; their meetings had been going almost daily for a while now. And, even if Harry didn't arrive, it was nice to come up here, to think. He understood the allure of the roof that Harry had spoken of once.
Harry had seemed out of it... hesitant even, upon arrival to the roof. This contined for a while, and just when Severus thought it was going to be one of those non-talking days, Harry broached the topic softly.
"Will you show me who you are now?"
Oh, how those simple words played havoc with the man's thoughts.
He had been serious when he'd planned on telling Harry on his deathbed, if at all. Yet, he was tired of hiding. Tired of pretending he was on the Dark Side around Voldemort, tired of going on raids and knowing his potions were being used to hurt people.
Deep down, he wanted Harry to know who he was, to see if he and Harry... if they could ever... He was tired of being invisible.
Dear gods, he was being infected by Gryffindorishness. And what was worse, that thought was almost fond.
Yet he owed it to Harry to show who he was. Harry, who had sat up here with him for countless hours, who had poured out every thought, every feeling, while Severus had just sat there and listened. Harry knew nothing about him, not even who he was on these trips to the roof.
But he was too scared. Despite the sentimental Gryffindorish feelings he hid - deep deep down - he feared. He feared for Harry's reations, of being rejected. Surely this could not continue once Harry knew that he was the hated potions bat of the dungeons.
Harry seemed to see through all of this, understandingly dismissing the topic. But Severus heard the barely concealed dissapointmentin the young man's voice. How could Harry, a mere child by looks, break through all of his defenses and masks, and manage to stir up so many dormant emotions within him?
Harry lifted his hand and brought it down on air, before moving and finding Severus' knee. He was invisible. How was Harry to know where he was? The thought sent a mess of emotions in a tangled up web through him, that he couldn't even begin to unravel. Damn that boy!
The rest of the evening was spent in silence. Harry seemed content to just lean back in his arms, but Severus had a lot of thinking to do. The cloudy sky grew darker, and with the night came even heavier clouds, rolling in quickly. Harry stood, and so did Severus. A hand splayed over his chest, and trailed upwards, giving Severus the time to back away should he so choose.
Severus stayed still.
And that hand found his jaw, and clothing shifted against clothing as Harry stood on tip-toe. And those full, pink lips met his, for a far too little amount of time. Harry had left before he could blink, and Severus reached a hand up to touch his own lips, impossibly warm from those brief seconds Harry's had brushed against them.
The skies opened and rain began to spatter down on the roof around him. He didn't move until well after he was quite thouroughly soaked. He went down to his rooms and dried himself with a towel, not bothering with magic. He had many things to think about.
...
He decided.
It was the very next day that found Severus pacing, invisible as always, on the roof, waiting for Harry to arrive.
Harry, Harry, Harry... it had once aggravated him that the young man was always in his thoughts, even if it was just at the back of his mind. Now he had come to terms with it, but it still annoyed him, especially when there wasn't anything else to distract himself with. He could only wait and cover up his nervousness with movement.
A tousled head of black hair popped up over the side of the roof, and as soon as Harry was standing Severus wrapped him up in his arms. Harry returned it automatically. He pulled back slightly, holding Harry by the upper arms and drinking in his features, memorizing them. He would never be able to look him in the face again if this day went as he feared.
He gave Harry enough time to pull away, but he stayed still as Severus returned the gentle kiss from yesterday. A slight inhalation against his mouth and then they molded together, their forms meshing perfectly.
Breathing soon became an issue, but after refilling their lungs they came back together. Severus had to kiss him now, before he lost his nerve, and in case he never got another chance. That desperations and urgency showed in the new style they portrayed, with Harry returning the emotion with the same potency. He allowed himself, for a brief moment, to believe that Harry knew who he was kissing. That he continued to do so with no revulsion or hesitance.
He was the first to take another step - Severus' tongue darted out to taste the length of Harry's bottom lip, and felt the shudder coursing through the youth and the moan that followed. Neither was more dominant or submissive than the other, creating an equal understanding between them as both tounges tangled together.
As if on some que, they managed to draw apart at the same time, both breathing heavily. Severus took in Harry's flushed skin, reddened lips, and hair that was even worse off than before. He wondered when his fingers had threaded through the black locks, and when Harry had pulled him closer with his own hands.
A third time - for luck, he told himself; but in truth it was because he couldn't resist - his lips found Harry's, touching them lingeringly and then drawing away, in a perfect replica of the brushing of lips Harry had instigated the day before.
Reluctantly, Severus peeled himself away from him, and took a few paces back. A last look and then he turned around, drawing up his hood and taking off the charm. Harry could only see the back of his cloak. Don't hate me... he pleaded internally, even as he tried to convince himself to turn around. He prepared himself for the rejection that would obviously follow the second Harry saw him.
He turned, pulling his hood down again in the same motion, standing there and waiting for the reation. Shock came first, and Harry studied him in the way Severus was now. The emotions slid by; shock, some unreadable emotion that involved the softening of his eyes, something like amusement, admiration, more of that stange emotion, and then bemusement, those well-kissed lips quirking up into a smile that held mostly the last emotion, but also that unidentifiable... thing - goddammit, what was it? - somehow all mixed up together.
Harry was not cruel, he hadn't spent almost an entire year with the youth to not know that. Harry was kind. But why would he be amused if he wasn't planning on throwing it back in his face? What are you thinking, Harry...?
"Well. That was a shock." Why did it sound like Harry was teasing him? What was going through that scarred skull of his? Harry took slow, purposeful steps towards him. Why couldn't he get to the point? Why draw out this torture? As he got closer, Severus was just filled with more regret. Why did he have to show himself again? They could have continued living peacefully with semi-regular meetings.
But the thing was, he'd still be living a lie. He'd feel like he was decieving Harry somehow, and Harry, kind, sweet Harry, didn't need someone lying and hiding who they really were. Harry deserved the best. Severus knew he was far from 'the best'. In fact, he was probably one of the worst. What had posessed him to show himself, anyway?
Harry was closer now, right in front of him. And in the second before Harry rose on tiptoe to press another soft kiss to his mouth, he saw the burning affection in the emerald eyes. His eyes closed, and when Harry drew away, he uttured the first word he had ever spoken to Harry up on the roof.
"Harry." His voice was hoarse with disbelief, and his black eyes opened to see the soft smile directed at him.
"Severus." Harry replied, probably just because he could. Severus found he quite liked the sound of his name on Harry's tongue. "I still love you. Nothing can change that. Not even knowing who you are."
How could he even love Severus? He'd had no idea, this entire time, that it was the dour potions professor he was leaning on, talking to. Harry had told him everything, and in return Severus had stayed silent. Severus vowed to himself that he would tell Harry about himself, too. Maybe not all at once, and maybe not soon, but he would.
Severus couldn't respond. He had never 'professed his love' for anyone. It sounded sappy and sentimental and like Gryffindor foolishness. On the other side, no one had ever said that they loved him. What was there to love? A greasy bat with sallow skin who rarely showed emotion. Yet, Harry...
Of course, The Golden Boy of Gryffindor was the exception to every rule, now wasn't he? Before the sentiment would have been of scorn and dirision, but now it was almost fond.
He had come a long way, hadn't he?
So, with a lack of anything to say, he kissed Harry once more, trying to convey the emotion he would never admit he didn't know how to put into words.
Hours later, they were in the same position they had taken up countless times before, with Harry pulled back against Severus' chest and Severus resting his chin lightly atop the messy black hair.
But this time, both men were visible.
It was astounding. Severus had hardly dared to hope this would be today's outcome. He had prepared himself for screaming, disgust, a quiet refusal, even just silence. But Harry actually accepting and loving him in return? That, he had tried not to dwell on. It would only make a rejection all the more terrible. And yet...
Yet, here they were.
Severus jumped slightly as their comfortable silence was broken suddenly by unexplained laughter on Harry's part. He had seen him laugh on more than one occasion, and the sound always caused this inane upturn of Severus' lips that made him glad only Harry could see him now. It wouldn't do for the rest of the world to see Severus Snape smile.The world may just go into cardiac arrest.
"It's no wonder!" Harry chuckled once he could talk through his laughter. His eyes were twinkling in a way that made Severus think Harry was spending too much time with the Headmaster. "I was wondering why you weren't being as cruel to me as usual in classes, and here's my answer."
Severus rolled his eyes. Foolish Gryffindor. He thought, though he was really wondering how a spy such as himself had managed to lose control in a noticable way in a public place.
"Yes, well, don't expect that to continue. I have a reputaion to uphold." He teased lightly. He had made it clear hours ago that even though he was in love - ugh, he hoped never to say that out loud - he was still a very sarcastic and cynical man. Harry had already seemed to know when he was teasing and when he was not, for the young man burst into laughter once more. To his own astonishment, Severus began to laugh as well. Only Harry could do this to him, he decided.
It wasn't just the roof anymore. It was their roof.
Author's Note: So, reading back over this story, I came to realise how fluffy this actually is. I hope no one choked on it... might as well get a vaccum to suck up all those adorable little dust bunnies... oh, wait, they seem to like Snape. Maybe I'll leave them there for a little longer... *evil grin*
I was happy that no one thought it moved too fast, I just thought it was something I had to adress. Being a perfectionist, having OCD, and paranoia can make someone worry... also, I've noticed and had pointed out to me little grammatical and spelling issues, most of them probably due to my fingers hitting the keys faster than my brain can tell them where to move. Unless anyone has a real issue with it, I think it's staying the way it is, because I'm too lazy. However, if a Beta would like to step up and handle my stories, I'd be more than happy.
And now, there were a few ideas about having a third chapter where the school found out, or maybe having an epilogue of sorts. Seeing how this is my first story there will probably also be little compairison one-shots to go along with it and what not. I'm not sure about the third chapter thing, but if anyone wants me to do it I'd be glad to write it. Also, ideas or challenges are very welcome for other stories or Presence compairisons. The story, one-shot, whatever would of course, be dedicated to the person with the idea or challenge.
WIPs are my preferred style of writing. I usually have an idea in mind of where I want the story to go, a general plot, but I post chapter by chapter with long or short periods of inactivity between. Sometimes a bit of the plot will jump out at me and make the story go in a completely different direction, so even I have no idea how it will turn out. I hope to have a longer, chapter fic out there for everyone soon, but when I can't say. I'm still waiting for a nice plot to catch my interest.
Thanks for everything, you guys make my world go 'round. Reviews, Alerts, and Favorites are greatly appreciated. Thanks, especially if you read through this incredibly long author's note...
'Til next time! ~theslyknave