After Hours

Chapter 4: Open

A/U: Thanks for sticking with this little AU! I edited and re-posted chapter 3, but no changes were made to the plot. I'm sorry this took so damn long, too. I've been focusing on my day job and fledgling music career. :)

….

They had been at it for three days now, and Harry was sure they'd packed everything. The walls of Severus' apartment were completely bare, not that he had decorated much to begin with. Severus had insisted on doing the final walk through alone, and Harry stayed with the truck they had borrowed from Charlie, the only Weasley besides Ron that had forgiven him after what happened with Ginny.

Severus returned with a dusty lock-box and a sour expression. Harry chose not to ask, but he was dying to know what was in the box, and they both knew it. The drive to Harry's apartment was thick with unvoiced curiosity. As they pulled into the apartment complex and parked, Harry prepared to break the uneasy silence, but Severus beat him to it.

"When I'm ready, I will include you in this part of my life. But for now, I am not."

Harry covered Severus' hand with his own, clenched atop the box that was between them on the dingy seat. "I want to know every part of you, no matter how long it takes. I mean it." Severus nodded, unsure of what to say, but Harry seemed to understand, leaning across the seat to kiss him gently.

"We should live together some time. What do you say?" Harry whispered between kisses, each longer than the last.

"I don't know." Severus murmured, with that flicker-smile Harry adored. "I'll have to be persuaded . . ."

…

"I don't think it's ridiculous, Ronald. Yellow is a very neutral color!"

"Hermione, I'm a guy. And as a guy, I have to say, a yellow room is not 'neutral'. If I had a yellow room growing up, I would have turned out a flaming queer."

Hermione snorted and sat in her new rocking chair, glancing around the spare room in mid-transformation from study to nursery. "With all your brothers cursing and beating each other to a pulp? You would have turned out exactly the same."

Ron shook his head and knelt in front of the rocking chair, splaying his hands on Hermione's belly. "What do you think, Mione? Boy or girl?"

"Ron, I told you. There's-"

"No way of knowing for at least a month, I know. But come on, guess."

"Well . . ." Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "By my calculations, I was at peak ovulation when the egg was fertilized, so . . ." She smirked. "I guess we're having a baby of either sex, relatively soon."

Ron shook his head, chuckling. "My mother says she knew we would all be boys because her thighs were swollen."

"So, what, they weren't swollen when she was pregnant with Ginny?"

"Nary a chafe, the way she tells it."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I didn't need to know that. What are you doing?"

Ron had cupped a thigh with both hands, humming thoughtfully. "They feel a little bigger, I think. I'm painting this room blue."

"Ronald, don't be ridic-Ron, that tickles! RON!"

…

"Would you rather have potato soup or left over curry?"

Severus grunted vaguely, seated cross-legged on the floor as he sorted through his records.

"You know, I could always cover myself in whipped cream and lay on the counter, or something."

Severus looked up at that, a smirk on his face. "Really?"

Harry blushed. "Sorry. I was trying to get your attention."

"You've had it for a good nine months, I reckon." Severus admitted, and Harry grinned. "I'm not hungry. But I'll cook for you, if you are." Severus offered, unfurling himself and walking stiffly to his record player, placed on the kitchen counter for the time being.

Harry shrugged. "It's been a long moving day, that's all."

Severus said nothing, placing a record on the turntable and fiddling with the volume. The opening chords of "Subcity" drifted out of the speakers, and Harry fought a smile. He would never have guessed upon meeting him, but Severus loved Tracy Chapman.

Severus held out a hand with the ghost of a smile, and Harry laughed. "Really? You wanna dance?"

"You doubt me, Potter?" Severus' smile grew into a more familiar expression: a sarcastic grin.

Harry came around the counter, grinning, and allowed Severus to pull him closer, burying his face into the crook of the older man's neck.

Here in Subcity, life is hard.

We can't receive any government relief.

I'd like to give Mr. President my honest regards

For disregarding me.

Swaying with Severus, Harry knew he should savor the moment. It wasn't often the surly man was in such an affable mood, and he wouldn't be for a long while, once he realized that at his worst, Harry liked to sleep in a cocoon of blankets and preferred his toilet paper scented and hanging from the top.

Severus pulled back and they kissed for a small eternity, his hands roaming along Harry's back and settling in his back pockets. Harry's hands draped around the back of Severus' neck.

"I love you."

"I know." Harry whispered, closing his eyes and tilting his forehead onto his lover's chin. "Take me to bed, please."

"Our bed." Severus rumbled back, smiling. "The bed we share."

Harry shivered at that, kissing Severus soundly. "Yessss."

…

Upon waking, Hermione had to pee very, very badly. It wasn't so much that she had to get up again, because she wasn't so large yet that it would be a nuisance, but it was the third time that night, and she and Ron had to open in the morning.

She got up anyway, and when she slipped back into bed, Ron curled closer to her with a sleepy mutter.

"Married . . . before?"

Hermione froze. They'd barely talked about marriage. "Do you think we should?" She'd always assumed they didn't need to get married, and she and Ron were in agreement about this.

" 'S only proper." Ron mumbled, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. "Don't you want to be a Weasely?"

Hermione chuckled. "I rather like being a Granger, actually."

"I could take your name." He said, with a yawn. "I could be Ronald Billius Weasely-Granger, and our children could be Gertrude and . . . Manchester."

"I like Rose for a girl. And maybe . . . Hugo, for a boy?"

"We should have a coin toss, I think." Ron mumbled, beginning to drift back to sleep. "Heads for Rose, tails for Gertrude."

"What if it's a boy?"

"Tough luck, being a boy named Trudy."

…

Severus had woken with Harry in his arms more times than he could count, but the knowledge that this was their bed now, in their apartment, was a feeling he had only shared with Lucius, and even then, he hadn't felt this content. He shifted back to watch Harry sleep. His hair was unkempt as usual, his cheeks flushed, his soft breath escaping in quiet huffs.

Severus loved Harry, he knew. It wasn't so much a rote fact as a daily realization.

Unable to resist, Severus kissed him lightly, immensely pleased when Harry drifted into wakefulness and curled a warm hand around Severus' bare shoulder.

"I was dreaming?" Harry mumbled as he pulled away, and Severus smirked, running a hand through Harry's unruly mop.

"It appears so. Good morning."

"Mm." Harry stretched and kissed Severus, moving to lie on top of him. Severus' hands traced lightly along Harry's bare back, raising goose bumps in their wake. They separated grudgingly, his hand still cupped at the nape of Harry's neck.

"What did you dream of?" Severus' voice was soft, a warm glide into the breath that they shared.

"Guess.", Harry whispered with a smile, brushing Severus' nose with his own.

"I already know. But I want you to tell me, so I can say something uncalled for and you can pretend to be upset, and I'll have to console you, which entails-"

Harry cut him off with a peck, and with a warning smirk, he leaned to rest his chin on Severus' shoulder. "I dreamt that we were older. We didn't look older, but I just knew; it was dream knowledge, I guess. And we were lying in bed together, but it was in a different room, in a house. And you were just . . ." Harry paused for a long moment. "You were just holding me, like you'd always been there holding me. Like . . . we would be there forever, and that's how we were meant to be."

Severus said nothing, and he could practically hear Harry's mind lurch into motion at his lack of response. He exhaled slowly and shifted from beneath him, leaving the bedroom and a reeling lover in his wake.

He returned to find Harry staring at the ceiling, clutching at the bedspread nervously. Severus clambered onto the bed and cleared his throat.

"I want to be in that house with you, sometime. But this is important. Come here."

Harry's gaze drifted between Severus and his clenched fist, but he slid over the comforter to sit next to him, eyes wide.

Severus held out his fist, fingers uncurling to reveal an unfamiliar key. To the lock-box, then.

"I shouldn't have said anything." Harry whispered.

Severus stared at the key with a scowl, then, steeling himself, looked Harry in the eyes. "I'm glad you did. I want you to have me. That includes everything that's inside of that box, eventually."

Harry stared at Severus for a moment before flinging himself into his arms and clinging for dear life.

"Please mean that."

"I do. I do mean it."

Harry sighed, holding tighter. "You don't have to do this. I'm not asking you to do this."

"I want to. Honestly."

Harry nodded, and moved to sit across from Severus, staring at him expectantly.

Severus swore quietly and gave Harry the key.

…

Draco raked a hand through his hair in irritation, glaring at the blank page before him as if it was to blame for his lack of inspiration. As the winner of 'The Hottest Dish', Draco was guaranteed funding and celebrity endorsement for whatever restaurant concept he pitched to the producers, one of whom was his father. He'd toyed with the idea of a semi-upscale restaurant, but the décor and theme were giving him the most trouble.

Blaise often shouted suggestions as he bustled around Draco's new apartment, decorating, though he swore he was doing nothing of the sort. As if Draco didn't notice Blaise had rearranged his pictures, or moved a lamp, while he'd had been in the bathroom or smoking on the balcony.

After the initial morning-after awkwardness, Blaise had admitted the hidden feelings he'd harbored during filming. They'd spent nearly all their time together since, trading barbs and lengthy kisses in equal measure. Draco's recent move to a larger apartment was an unnecessary excuse for Blaise to come over as often as possible, whenever he could get away from his food truck.

"I have no idea what to do, Blaise." Draco groaned, slumping to rest his head on the drafting table.

Blaise finished up in the kitchen and came out to the living room, pulling Draco upright by the shoulders. "Close your eyes."

Draco snorted in disbelief, but did so after a light nip on the ear from Blaise.

"Now, relax."

"How can I when-"

"I said relax!"

Draco grumbled, but began to breathe in deeply through his nose, anyway. This was idiotic, and unlikely to work. But he wanted a solid concept so badly! Anything that could help was worth a shot, right?

"Now, imagine the perfect place for you and all of your loved ones, the perfect place to relax and enjoy each other's company," Blaise continued. "What does it smell like? What kind of food would you serve there?"

Draco imagined his mother and father, friends, Blaise and himself at a long table. Preferably somewhere near the ocean. "The walls are . . . ivory and cream? . . . with silver accents, maybe some slate grays and blues. It smells a little spicy, but not too exotic. We're eating . . . seafood. Mediterranean? Drinking wine."

"Perfect. If you build it, we will come."

Draco opened his eyes and turned in his chair. "How did you do that? I've been stuck for hours!"

"I am a man of many talents." Blaise said with a smirk, and Draco pulled him into a kiss.

"You have to be my sous chef." He said breathlessly as he pulled away, grinning.

"You have to promise not to boss me around too much, and to give me full credit for my input."

"I can't guarantee anything that drastic, really."

Blaise groaned and strode back toward the kitchen. "No deal."

"Partial credit." Draco called, standing from the drafting table on stiff legs.

"No." Blaise spat, swiping Draco's cigarettes from the kitchen table and storming out onto the balcony.

Draco sighed and looked around the kitchen. Everything had been moved over the course of the last week. He grabbed his scarf and stepped out onto the balcony.

…

It had been over a month now, and with Harry getting swept up in Weasley and Granger's baby plans and upcoming nuptials, Severus half-heartedly hoped the boy had forgotten exactly how much weight the box and its' key held in his mind.

Harry had taken to wearing the key around his neck on a chain, which Severus thought was unnecessary, but it made him feel better about his decision to entrust him with it in the first place. At least the boy hadn't opened the lock box the first night, unaware that their relationship could be at an early end. Severus wasn't certain they were strong enough to weather his sordid past, and Lucius' vast involvement within it. He wasn't eager to test their bond so soon, either.

One afternoon, Harry vomited and left early, though Severus swore he'd shown no sign of sickness that morning. He pawned it off as a stomach bug or over-eating on Harry's part, until he realized his young lover hadn't worn his necklace as he begged Severus to let Granger drive him home.

Severus did his prep in record time, hoping he could make it home to give some context on a box full of potentially incriminating items.

…

The box smelled like Lucius Malfoy, the same spiced cologne Harry had smelled on Severus that night so many months ago. Severus had stacked everything in chronological order with the newest additions on top, so Harry flipped the box and its contents, tenderly picking up the first item.

Harry studied the photograph of Severus and Eileen Snape. They looked eerily alike; both had dark hair and eyes, hooked noses, thin lips. They were the same height at the time. Severus looked to be about seventeen, though his mother looked much older than the late thirties Harry thought she'd been.

"She's beautiful, Severus." He whispered.

Harry stared at the picture for a while longer, before picking up the next item, a photo of Severus with Lucius Malfoy serving food from behind a counter. Harry studied it, looking for clues of their intimacy. They seemed to be focused on their work; neither of them smiled and they weren't even touching.

"They weren't together yet." Harry muttered, and he studied the photo closely, grunting at the sight of Lucius' clearance card and Severus' student ID. So, that's where they'd met, then. At a culinary academy, funded by the Malfoy family.

The next item was a clipping from a culinary magazine. It detailed Severus' scholarship to a culinary academy and subsequent employment at a restaurant called Shenanigans, which was owned by renowned chefs Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall.

"This article was written by Lucius." Harry muttered, eyeing the name with furrowed brow.

The next article was from a small town newspaper. Harry read silently, the reality of Severus' past engulfing him like a tidal wave.

Severus' mother and father had gotten married two months before Severus was born, and moved into a tiny house at the edge of town. Tobias Snape (a tall, dark haired man with a smug grin and a glass of wine in the wedding photo) was arrested several times for public intoxication and domestic violence, but Eileen often bailed him out, and always refused to press charges. Severus attended the local elementary school, where he won several academic awards, and after completing school, was awarded a scholarship to a prestigious culinary academy. On the evening of June 22nd, 1978, Eileen Prince Snape died of unknown causes and Tobias, with a blood alcohol level of over .3, died of intoxication.

Past the lump in his throat, Harry whispered, "Where did you go?" to the young Severus in the article picture. Severus took the article from him and placed it in the box, chilling Harry to the bone as he backed away toward the headboard.

"I didn't think you'd be home so soon." He rasped. "I didn't-"

Severus waved a hand and sat on the bed, next to the box. "I gave you the key as a token of my trust. I knew you would open the box eventually, and I've done my best to . . . prepare for this inevitability."

Harry stared for a moment, wide eyed. "I'm so sorry, Severus. Your parents . . . What did you . . . How did you survive?"

"I went to Lucius. He was my only friend at the time, and he had hinted before that I was welcome in his family's home if I ever decided to strike out on my own. He knew how rough my home life was. I showed up on his doorstep the night my parents died, and from that moment on, I became his 'pet'. And he treated me like one when we were in public, introducing me as his 'project' to all his high society friends."

Harry scowled at the box. "And when you were alone?"

Severus looked at the box as well, wistful. "I thought he loved me. He often said he did, and I was young and desperate enough to believe him."

"Did he love you? The way I-The way I love you?"

"No." Severus said, tersely. "He meant it in the most selfish, convenient way possible. The way one loves a piece of clothing, or modern art. He loved me because I reflected his inflated, delusional views of himself."

Harry nodded and gripped Severus' hand with his own.

…

Hermione wasn't sure if Ron meant what he'd said that morning in bed, and she reasoned that if he brought it up without her prodding, then he was seriously considering it, and she ought to give marriage a second thought. They had talked about it before they knew she was pregnant, and agreed to talk about it again in six months. It had been three, but he'd brought it up while half-asleep, which meant he'd been thinking about it in his waking hours as well.

She wasn't too surprised when Ron came up and wrapped his arms around her while she was taking inventory that night. "I meant what I said, Hermione. I'm gonna make you an honest woman."

"I'm a compulsive liar now, am I?"

Ron laughed, a quiet rumble that went through both their bodies. "Hermione, please marry me."

Hermione smirked. "You'll have to do better than that, Ron. A 500 word essay detailing potential benefits, maybe?"

"How about a sonnet, or a doll made completely from locks of your hair?"

"That's disgusting!"

"I'm set, Hermione. I won't rest until I make you my bride."

"You're going to die of exhaustion within a week."

"Not if I wear you down first." Ron vowed, turning Hermione in his arms and kissing her soundly. Hermione resisted half-heartedly, but sighed and snaked an arm around Ron's waist after a minute, pulling him closer still.

…

The last item in the box was Lucius' review from several months prior. He'd praised Severus' dishes and called them 'masterpieces', while calling the wait staff 'daft, slow-moving, and over-bearing'.

"He's just jealous of my hair." Harry said with a shrug, and Severus grinned wryly in surprise.

"That's it. That's exactly it." He laughed, pinning Harry to the bed and kissing him. "I never thought . . . God, I never thought I'd be able to share this with anyone. I was worried you would think so much less of me."

"How could I? I'm not exactly a saint myself."

Severus scoffed, kissing Harry again. "What have you done, crossed the street without looking? Overcharged a drink special?"

Harry shook his head with a frown and took a deep breath, looking Severus in the eye. He did this a few times, seeming to work himself up to something.

"I left Ginny after she had a miscarriage."

Severus froze, staring at Harry with a furrowed brow. "What?"

"I was never sure if it was the right time to tell you, but . . . Listen, could you get off me for a second?"

Severus shifted off Harry and moved to the other side of the bed, as far as he could get without climbing off. Harry had known that Severus was not going to take this well, but this was the worst possible reaction. Confusion and . . . betrayal?

"I met Ginny at one of Ron's birthday parties. I was, what, eleven? So she would have been ten. She was nice, really shy around me, and Ron teased both of us about it for years, until I was fifteen, and I started to like her back. So I asked her out, and of course she said yes. She'd been infatuated with me for all that time.

"We dated for three or four years, until we were both out of school, and a year after she graduated, we found out she was pregnant." Harry looked up from the comforter string he'd been unraveling, hoping to recieve some iota of compassion from Severus. He wasn't even looking at Harry anymore, staring out the window with his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

Harry bit his lip, hard, swallowing against the lump in his throat. This was exactly why he didn't want to tell Severus, but he knew they couldn't continue unless all of this was out in the open. They'd never make it to that room if they weren't each completely aware of what the other person carried with them.

"So we got engaged, and moved in together. And at first, everything was great. I really wanted to be with Ginny for the rest of my life. She was about three months pregnant when she miscarried. It was horrible. She woke up screaming in pain, and I had no idea what to do, so I called Molly, and that's how the rest of the family found out she was pregnant in the first place. It was this small thing, this tiny . . . fetus, and we cried forever, it seemed like. Neither of us could sleep for months, and Ginny couldn't work, and I barely could, but I couldn't focus."

Harry paused again and glanced up at Severus, who was looking at him with a dazed expression.

"She . . . wouldn't let me touch her after that. For an entire year, more than a year. I thought she needed more time, but every time I tried to talk to her about trying for another baby, or even having sex, she would start crying and saying that I only cared about sex, which wasn't true at all. I loved Ginny for every other reason under the sun."

Harry let the tears run over. They were long overdue. Severus watched him cry for several minutes without moving to comfort him.

"But, I started to feel differently about her. I started to feel nothing. And I tried not to let it show, but it weighed on me, so . . . I called off the wedding. And Ginny tried, she promised that she would try harder to make me happy, but it was too late, and I moved out.

"I know that it was selfish and stupid of me to give up like that, to walk away from a woman who would go to the ends of the earth for me, but I literally did not feel the same way about her anymore. So I left, and I lost my job, and most of the family that had adopted me when I befriended Ron agreed to pretend I don't exist. I had to start from scratch, with just Ron and Hermione in my life. Charlie just forgave me about a month ago."

"How could you not tell me this?" Severus whispered. "I've asked you about her, and you've always said it wasn't important."

"It's not important to us. That could never happen to us."

"Yes it fucking could!" Severus shouted, and Harry pressed back against the headboard. Severus had only raised his voice at him a number of times, and most of them were during stressful situations at work. "I'll never have a miscarriage, but you might get bored of me, or decide you don't want me anymore, and that'll be it. You'll just leave and I'll . . . God Harry, I-I can't do that again."

Harry shrank into himself and pulled his knees into his chest. "I wouldn't leave you, or betray you, not like he did . . . And what about Malfoy, anyway? He left you and married someone else, and you kept a fucking box full of his keepsakes!" Harry clambered onto his knees. "How do I know you're going toleaveme for him!? He obviously wants you back."

"I DON'T WANT THAT ANYMORE!" Severus roared, climbing to his knees, too. "I don't . . ." He grabbed at his hair, tugging angrily. "I don't want him anymore. I can't help what memories I value! But I can . . . I can love you more. I do love you more."

Harry covered his face with a trembling hand. "I can't compete with Lucius Malfoy, Severus. He molded you. I don't think . . . I don't think you can love me as much as I want you to if you still have feelings for him."

Severus stared. "Are you . . . Do you want to leave? Already?"

"No, I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave you. But I want to get out of this room for a few hours, okay? I need to think. And I'm sorry about the box. I just . . . I'll be back."

And with that, he took his jacket and left.

…

Severus didn't know how long it had been since Harry left. He was still curled up against the headboard and hadn't bothered getting up to turn on the light when it became too dark to see. He heard the familiar sounds of Harry unlocking the door, shuffling into the bathroom to brush his teeth and prepare for bed, tossing his scarf and coat into the hallway closet.

Harry didn't turn on the light when he entered the bedroom, which Severus was grateful for. He didn't know if he could handle being blinded after such a stressful day. Harry stood by the bed for a moment, huffing softly, before sliding up onto the edge, just out of Severus' reach.

"I went back to the restaurant." He said quietly, shifting on the comforter. "I needed to talk to Ron and Hermione, get their take on things."

"I presume you told them everything." Severus said in a tight voice.

"I told them that your past is as messy as mine, and we'd had a fight."

"Ah."

"Severus . . ." Harry began, but he stopped himself and sighed. "I'm sorry about what I said. I've been worried about Lucius Malfoy since I first heard about him, and when I knew how much he meant to you, I was . . . afraid. I mean, you adored him. And sometimes I feel like I'm not elegant enough for you, or witty enough, or . . . handsome enough. How am I supposed to compete with him?"

Severus closed his eyes, though it made no difference in the dark room. "You don't have to compete with him. I'm not interested in reliving the relationship we had. Believe it or not, I've had enough emotional abuse for a lifetime. Several life times, in fact."

Harry bit his lip and whispered, "I'm sorry I never told you about what happened with Ginny."

"I wasn't exactly open about my past with Lucius. I'm sure our motivations were similar."

"Aversion to pain, on my end." Harry supplied, and Severus couldn't stop himself from flicker-smiling.

"Fear of rejection, on mine." He murmured after a moment. The silence afterward rang with the honesty of his confession.

Harry slid across the expanse between them and covered Severus' mouth with his own, shifting his body to cover the older man's as well. Severus pulled him closer, and they moved together slowly, separating for air only when absolutely necessary. Severus pulled away long enough to remove Harry's shirt and, with a grunt, reversed their positions.

"Severus," Harry moaned, running his fingers through the long hair brushing his cheeks, cradling Severus' hips in the V of his legs. "Please, I-"

Severus cut him off with another kiss, cupping Harry's jaw as they ground together, trading gasps and moans in equal measure.

"I love you." Harry whispered breathlessly, fumbling ineffectively at Severus' clothing.

Severus stilled and climbed off the bed, removing his clothing in record time. "I never thought . . ." Severus stopped at the edge of the bed, fingers digging into the bedspread. All was still for a moment as he pulled his thoughts together. "I thought I would never find someone else."

"Come here." Said Harry, and Severus climbed back onto the bed and let the younger man pull him close.

"I don't know how this will end. But . . . I want to keep you around for as long as possible. I'd miss you too much if you went away."

Severus wavered between wanting to ravish his optimistic lover and wanting to flay him for being so naïve. "That does nothing to inspire my confidence, Mr. Potter."

"Mr. Potter? Severus, you sound like a crabby professor. 'Mr. Potter, where is your homework assignment?,' 'I'm sorry, sir, I forgot."

Severus ground their hips together with a growl, and Harry chuckled, "Oh, you like that, do you? Have a thing for classroom settings?"

"I have a 'thing', as you so eloquently put it, for hooligans who don't realize they're playing with fire."

Harry shook with laughter, which Severus put a stop to by kissing him breathless once more.

…

"You might as well come out and say it, Weasely. I can feel you glaring."

Ron blushed, but came around the expedite window and stood before Severus, posture rigid. "Harry came back to the restaurant last night, crying and convinced you were going to leave him for someone else. What the hell did you say to him?"

Severus scowled. "I believe it's none of your business, as it's been resolved. You can ask him yourself when he comes in."

Weasely narrowed his eyes and said, "The only reason I haven't objected to this whole 'relationship' is that, so far, it seems you've made Harry happy. But if I find out that you've broken his heart, we're going to have a talk. I might have to lay you out."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat, Weasely? I would have to suspend you for a physical altercation with a superior."

"Duly noted."

"You're an idiot."

"I'm a good friend."

They glared at each other for a moment. Severus noted grudgingly that the Weasely had grown a back bone at some point.

"What are you guys talking about?" Harry called from the back door, locking it behind him and taking off his coat.

"Nothing." Ron said quickly, face still red from the confrontation. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. Very much so." Harry flung his coat into the closet and came through the kitchen to where they were standing, sidling up to Severus and wrapping an arm around his waist. The older man caught Ron's puzzled gaze and raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Have you and Hermione talked about the ceremony yet?"

"Not exactly. We wanna get married before the baby is born, but we're not sure exactly when. Probably in March"

Harry hummed and nodded, sliding away from Severus, walking into the dining room. Ron watched him go and turned to frown at Severus. "So, you made up."

"You don't have to sound so disappointed."

Ron threw his hands up and went back into the kitchen to finish his prep.

Severus watched him chop vegetables with more force than necessary and smirked, following Harry into the dining room. They had less than an hour until lunch service, and there was much left to be done.

…