Rating: M
Warnings: Slash, swearing, infidelity, ignores epilogue, probably a bit OOC
Pairings: SS/HP and HP/GW
Genres: Romance, Drama, Angst
Summary: Harry's engaged to Ginny, but then along comes Severus Snape. SLASH, SS/HP, POST DH
Chapter Nine: No Turning Back
"Afternoon, my beautiful Minions," George greeted them merrily, collapsing into a chair and throwing his legs up on the table. "Who's buying?"
"Get your feet off the table, you git," said Ron, shoving hard at George's dragonhide boots.
"Now, Ron, is that really any way to talk to your favourite brother?"
"Charlie's my favourite," Ron replied smugly.
"Is he now? Well then, I'm sure you won't mind too much if I cross you off my party guest list then."
"What you on about? You're not even having a party."
"I could have been," said George, with a wide smile. "And you, little bro, wouldn't have been invited."
"Oh, for the love of…" Ginny rolled her eyes. "Someone get the bloke a drink and shut him up."
Hermione laughed as she got to her feet. "My round?"
It was a late, sunny, Wednesday afternoon and a group of them had agreed to meet in Diagon Alley for a drink after work. The sky was a lovely, clear blue and there wasn't a cloud in sight. A calming, delicate breeze gently rustled the leaves of the trees and pink blossoms rained down on the heads of the people who strolled by. It was such a cool, relaxing day…and one that was being completely wasted on Harry and his friends, who were currently stuck in a dark, noisy pub, gathered around a rickety, wooden table.
Oh, what he wouldn't have given to be outside on a day like this. It had been such a slow day at work; he'd spent hours locked in his office, with nothing more than a great, big stack of reports to keep him busy. He wanted to be out there, enjoying the sunshine and getting some fresh air. His friends, however, wanted to be in here, chatting and getting tipsy.
They could have compromised, Harry thought, and gone to a muggle pub where they could sit outside, but he hadn't wanted to mention it as Ron had seemed rather keen on getting a couple of Ogden's best down his throat, and Neville quite eager to just sit and ogle the new blonde barmaid. Such was life, he figured.
"You'll never guess who I had in the shop today," said George, breaking Harry out of his musings. "Aberforth! You know, he's still trying to get McGonagall to go on a date with him! I told him, I said, 'Abe, mate. You're not gonna win old McGonagall's heart by playing practical jokes on her. She hasn't got a sense of humour.' But he wasn't having any of it and I ended up selling him a 24-hour WonderWitch love potion, a box of Wild-Fire Whiz-Bang fireworks, a fake wand, and a bunch of Canary Creams."
"Sound's like he has quite the night planned," Ron commented. "He's such a romantic."
"Poor McGonagall," Ginny sympathised.
"Hey, guys?" They looked up at the sound of Hermione's voice. She approached the table and set the tray of drinks down carefully. "Don't all look at once," she said, taking her seat again, "but the new barmaid…isn't that Hannah Abbott?"
They all turned at once.
"Guys!" Hermione whined.
They ignored her and focused on the blonde woman stood at the furthest end of the bar. Probably sensing their stares, she looked up from the pint she was pouring. Her pink, rosy cheeks grew bright and she waved over at them.
"Yeah," sighed Neville, as the rest of them waved back. "She started working here last week."
"Is that how long you've been sat there, staring?" Ginny teased. Neville went red.
"Aww," cooed George. He reached out a hand and ruffled Neville's hair. "Someone's got a little crush, I see. Why don't you ask her out?"
"I couldn't do that!" He paused, worrying his bottom lip, and looked over at the bar. "What if she says no?" he asked nervously.
George wiggled his eyebrows. "What if she says yes?"
"N-no…I couldn't. She wouldn't be interested in me anyway."
"Well, you'll never know until you try," encouraged Hermione.
"But what do I say?" he asked them. "And if she says yes, what do I do? I don't know anything about going on dates. What if I mess it up?"
"Just relax and be yourself," Harry advised him. "Maybe you could take her out to dinner?"
Neville shook his head. "I'm a fussy eater."
"There's always the old, muggle cliché," said Hermione. "You could take her to the cinema."
"I wouldn't know where to start with that one," he admitted.
"I'll tell you what, Nev," said Ginny. "This lot," – she nodded at the rest of them – "are coming to my game on Saturday. I could get you and Hannah some free tickets."
"And then, of course, there's the after-party," said George, wiggling his eyebrows once more. "All that alcohol, all those dark corners…"
"George!" Hermione smacked him on the arm.
"He's a guy, Hermione," said George. "Us guys only have one thing on our minds. Isn't that right, Ron?" He winked at his brother.
Hermione turned her glare on Ron, who flushed.
"Don't listen to him, 'Mione. We're not all animals like him."
George laughed before nodding in Harry's direction. "At least Harry knows what I'm talking about, don't you mate?"
Ginny looked at him expectantly.
"I have no idea what you're on about, George," he replied calmly. "Sex is the furthest thing from my mind when I think of Ginny."
George laughed again as Ginny gave Harry a playful shove.
"Just wait until I get you home," she threatened.
"Ew, ew, ew!" Ron whined, covering his ears. "That's my sister!"
"You didn't seriously think we weren't doing it, did you?" she said, pulling her drink towards her. She took a gulp and set it back down. "We're getting married. You're going to have to deal with it sooner or later."
"Speaking of which, how's that going?" asked Hermione. "Have you set a date yet?"
Ginny shrugged. "We haven't really given it any thought yet," she told her. "We're not in any rush though."
She exchanged what Harry could only describe as "a look" with Hermione, but before he could give it more than a seconds thought, the conversation switched back to Neville's dating dilemma and soon they were discussing all the different ways he could use to get her interested.
As the evening grew, talk turned to that of their old school friends. Ginny had received a letter from Luna the other day (who was now in China with her boyfriend, Rolf) telling of all the new and wonderful things she had discovered and that her publisher had given her the go-ahead to write another book. Dean Thomas, another of their mutual friends, worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports and they often saw him at the Ministry or at Quidditch Matches. Seamus, meanwhile, worked in his mother's shop over in Ireland, but had recently put in an application to become an Auror. His training was to begin this coming Autumn.
As for the girls, well, Harry didn't really keep in touch with Parvati and Lavender. He knew from talking with Dean and Neville, however, that Parvati worked in the Children's Ward at St. Mungo's, and Lavender, who had been married twice and had a one year old daughter, worked as a receptionist over at the Daily Prophet building.
Harry had also heard tell of his old enemies, the Malfoys. Lucius, since leaving prison two years ago (it had been a very short sentence thanks to Harry testifying – Narcissa had saved his life after all) was back in his ancestral home, sitting around, doing nothing, and watching the money roll in from God only knew where. Draco, however, had a job – he worked at the Ministry, in the Department of International Magical Co-operation, along with his girlfriend, Astoria Greengrass. Harry had always avoided that department whenever he could, but it was a lot harder to do now that he was Head Auror, and so whenever he saw Draco they would just nod at each other and walk on. They hadn't exchanged a single word since the day Harry had given him his wand back.
Talk of old friends always depressed Harry, for even though a lot of them were still around, and even though he'd made plenty of new ones since leaving school, it reminded him of the one's he'd lost. Remus and Dumbledore he missed, and Sirius he missed with a passion. Harry was an adult now, with a fiancée and a home and a job, but when things happened, when things got him down, he couldn't help but yearn for someone to talk to, someone impartial, someone who wasn't going to judge him for what he was thinking and feeling.
And that was exactly how he'd been feeling ever since his chat with Snape a couple of days ago.
The fact was, he couldn't get the kiss out of his head. Nothing new there of course – he'd been thinking about it ever since it had happened. But this was different. Last week he'd been angry, worried, embarrassed. Now he was curious.
Snape had said it an been an impulse, the kiss, but the more Harry thought about it, the more he was convinced that there was something more to it, something behind it, something lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be found. He realised now that what Snape had said just didn't make sense – who kisses someone they don't like on a mere whim?
He was obsessing over this, he knew it, but wouldn't anyone in his position? If someone kissed you – a friend, and of the same sex, no less! – surely you'd want to know why? The real reason why.
And, well, this whole thing…it wasn't exactly something you could easily forget. He'd never been in this situation before, and he'd certainly never expected to!
OK, perhaps "situation" was the wrong word. It had just been a kiss after all, and Snape seemed to have gotten over it pretty quickly. Or, at least, that was how he was acting. But then again, Snape was gay so kissing another male was hardly new territory for him. This was all brand new to Harry. This wasn't like with Cho or with Ginny…well…if you wanted to be picky, he supposed, in a way, it was. He hadn't exactly been dating either of those girls when he'd had his first kiss with them…there had been an attraction, yes, but the kiss had sort of been the starting line.
But that was where the similarities ended. This was no starting line. Harry wasn't attracted to Snape. The kiss meant nothing.
But still…a man had kissed him. A gay man.
And he'd kissed back.
God, it was the same argument over and over again, wasn't it? Why couldn't he simply move passed this?
Because it's a loose end, that's why. A loose end that seriously needs a good knotting.
But why was it a loose end? What did Harry want all of this to amount to? Was he simply overanalysing everything?
Snape had kissed him and he'd kissed back because he'd felt the desire to. It was how he felt when Ginny kissed him. He liked kissing. Kissing back was a natural response. And the kiss with Snape had felt –
Had felt what?
He couldn't remember!
He'd been so worked up over it…and now he couldn't remember what the actual kiss had felt like!
Maybe that was why he was obsessing? Maybe he needed to…you know…to set his mind at ease? If he knew for sure that it meant nothing…if he knew that he felt nothing…
And it wouldn't be cheating. It wouldn't. It would be…well, he'd just be making sure.
God, it was a crazy idea! But he was obsessed for a reason, surely. And maybe, just maybe…
"Mr. Potter. You're late."
Harry stood on his doorstep, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. He looked rather anxious as Severus let his eyes trail down his body, taking in the tattered trainers on his feet and the frayed cuffs of his shirt sticking out from the sleeves of his jacket. His hair was as messy as ever, as if a tornado had just passed by, but his bright green eyes shone beautifully behind his glasses.
"Come in, then," he said, standing back from the door. "Make yourself at home."
He gestured towards the living room and as Harry shuffled passed him he caught the scent of cologne. It was different from his usual, Severus noted. Fresher, more subtle.
Subtle. That made him snort. Potter and subtle did not go well together.
He closed the front door and followed Harry into the room. He seated himself next to Harry on the sofa, making sure to leave a comfortable gap between them. There was something about Harry's manner that told Severus to tread carefully.
"Would you like something to eat or drink?"
Harry gave a start and looked at Severus. He shook his head.
"No thank you," he said. "I can't stay long. I have some stuff to do."
A likely story, Severus thought, but he nodded his head all the same. It hurt him to know that Harry had been reduced to making up excuses to cut short their time together. He'd foolishly thought that everything would be alright once they'd had their little chat on Monday. Obviously he'd been wrong.
An awkward silence threatened to fall, so Severus quickly cast around for small talk.
"How was your week?" he asked. "Not too terrible, I hope."
Harry gave a shrug. "It was OK," he said. "How about you?"
"Can't complain," he replied. Well, he could complain, but he wasn't going to.
Harry nodded and fell silent again.
Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant. Congratulations, Severus, on messing up once more! He should have known that Harry wouldn't forgive and forget that easily. It had been two weeks since that kiss but the boy was clearly still on edge about it, afraid that the big bad gay man was going to pounce on him. Was this what their friendship was going to be like from now on?
Harry obviously had no idea how much Severus had beaten himself up over what had happened. Didn't he realise how much their friendship meant to him? He didn't want to regret their kiss – he'd loved the feel of Harry's lips on his – but the cost had been high; a snatch of stolen happiness for this…this awkwardness, this silence.
He sighed inwardly and forced himself to make another effort.
"How's your godson, Ted?" He couldn't believe he'd just asked after a Lupin. But…desperate times and all that…
Harry turned to him again and this time he smiled. "He's great," he told him. "We've been going out on the weekends, you know, to the beaches and cinemas and things."
"It's good that you're spending time with him," Severus replied. "He needs all the family he can get."
Harry shrugged again. "He has all the Weasley's but…I dunno. He's like a son to me. I know he has his grandma, but sometimes I just feel like he's my responsibility, you know? Like I owe it to Remus…"
"I'm sure he'd be proud of you," Severus said.
Harry smiled warmly. "Thank you," he said. "And…I'm sorry. About the way I reacted. To…you know."
Severus felt himself relax and he let out a silent breath.
"Forget it," he said to Harry. "I shouldn't have –"
"But I can't," Harry said suddenly. "I can't forget it. It happened and I want to know why."
Severus sat, surprised, staring at Harry. The boy's cheeks were flushed with colour but he looked serious, resolute.
"You know why," he said to him. "I told you, it was –"
"Impulse, I know," Harry interrupted again. "Do you really expect me to believe that?"
"Well, what do you want me to say, Harry?" he demanded, feeling very defensive all of a sudden. "Shall I perhaps make up some story of how I'm madly in love with you? It was just a kiss, Potter, get over it."
"But it had to mean something!"
"Why? Why does it have to mean something?"
"You don't just kiss someone like that, Snape! I've been over it a thousand times in my head and –"
"You're delusion. You're seeing things that just aren't there!" He pushed himself to his feet and glared down at Harry. "I think you'd better go," he said firmly.
Harry looked at him fiercely, his jaw tight, but he, too, got to his feet. "Fine," he snapped, and he stomped angrily towards the door. Severus's heart sank as he watched Harry reach for the handle. When his hand fastened around it, however, he paused.
Severus waited.
"Well?" he said, when it became clear the boy wasn't going to move. "Are you leaving or not?"
Harry took a deep breath, bracing himself, it seemed, although for what, Severus wasn't sure. All became clear enough, however, when he walked back over to Severus. He looked determined.
He stared Severus right in the eye.
"Kiss me."
OK. So maybe "clear enough" hadn't been the right words to use.
"I beg your pardon?"
Snape was looking at him as if he'd gone mad, which, when Harry thought about it, was probably true. He had, after all, just strolled up to Snape and demanded that he kiss him. How was that not mad?
But he didn't care. He'd given this a lot of thought – so much thought that he'd given himself a headache. But it was an important decision and therefore it had required time.
He knew what he was doing. He wanted to remember what kissing Snape had felt like. He wanted to know what it meant. For both of them. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could forget about it and have Severus Snape, his friend, back.
"Kiss me," he said again. "Please." Oh, Lord, did he just beg? No, he told himself. He was just asking politely. It was manners.
"Are you insane?" Snape said. "After everything that's happened, you want me to kiss you again?"
"Please," he repeated. "I just need…I just need to know something. Don't ask me to explain."
He wished Snape would stop looking at him like that, as if he were crazy. This was difficult enough without having to worry about what Snape thought of him. Was he coming across as desperate, or just plain stupid?
But just as all that was going through his head, Snape's expression softened.
"Potter….," he said, gently, "Harry…I don't want to lose you as a friend. After that first time, you wouldn't speak to me for almost two weeks. I can't do this. I can't."
And suddenly everything dropped into place. His cheeks flamed and he looked away.
"You're right," he said quickly, "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm so selfish, asking this of you. I'm sorry. I'll…I'll just go. I promise I won't bring it up again. Sorry."
He finished his stammering and turned towards the door, wanting nothing more than to just disappear. God, this was so embarrassing! He was so ashamed. What the hell had he been thinking? But before he could even take two steps, a strong hand gripped his arm and spun him round. He found himself face to face with Snape.
"Are you sure about this?" Snape's voice was low, almost seductive, and it sent a shiver down Harry's spine.
He gulped. He nodded.
Snape pulled him closer. So close he could feel his breath on his cheek when he spoke.
"You look terrified," he whispered. "And you're shaking."
Harry nodded again. It was all he could do. And then Snape began to lean in.
Pull away, pull away! his mind screamed. But he couldn't. Wouldn't. This had to happen and he had to know.
And suddenly Snape's lips were on his but it wasn't soft and gentle like last time – and Harry remembered that now – but it was rough and hard, and as Snape shoved him against the wall, pinning his body against his own, Harry lost all sense of self.
Snape's tongue was teasing at his lips and he opened them with a moan, welcoming that delicious heat. He returned the kiss with just as much force, wrapping his arms around Snape's neck and fastening his hands tightly in his hair, pulling him closer.
With one hand cupped strongly at the back of Harry's neck, Snape let his other trail the length of Harry's body, coming to rest on the firm buttocks. He gave a squeeze and Harry gasped, his hips jolting forwards and…
…And God, Dear God, he was hard. Snape was hard and Harry was hard and Harry wasn't at all sure what to do. He'd never felt another man's cock before, but Snape's was pressing against Harry's hip rather insistently and…and just breathe, Harry, OK? Just breathe. You wanted this, remember. Just concentrate. You're supposed to…well…something…kissing…
But just as Harry began to rock his hips, the friction ended, the kiss ended, and Snape pulled away. He was breathing heavily as he lay his head next to Harry's, against the wall.
"Is that what you wanted?" he managed to ask, his eyes fixed on Harry's.
Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to feel. He just stood there and closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing.
"Is that what you wanted?" Snape repeated.
Harry chewed his bottom lip. He opened his eyes and looked at Snape.
"I should go," he said quietly.
The change in Snape's face was instant and if Harry hadn't have been paying such close attention he wouldn't have noticed it at all.
"Harry…"
He pushed away from the wall and opened the front door.
"I'll see you next Friday," he said, and with that he stepped out into the night.
Severus stared at the closed door long after Harry had gone. He was stunned. He couldn't quite get his head around what had just happened. What had happened?
And Harry wasn't angry. He was coming back. What did that mean? Was he coming back as a friend, now that his "experiment" or whatever it was was over? Or was he coming back for more?
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of such thoughts, but it was hopeless. There was no denying it. He wanted Harry. He wasn't exactly sure how he wanted him – whether it was just for the night, or, indeed, even longer – but he wanted him.
All these years Harry had been right under his nose, getting into trouble and annoying the hell out of him. Who'd have thought things would turn out like this?
Yes, he wanted Harry all right. He'd tasted too much to just let him go. And he wasn't going to mess this up.
"He has a fiancée, Severus." The old, familiar voice came from above the fireplace. He didn't need to turn around to know that Dumbledore's painting had woken up.
"And you're just a portrait, so it's none of your business," he replied, and he headed up the stairs to his bedroom without sparing the old Headmaster a glance.
A/N: Now wasn't that a quick update? Just over a week! I'm so proud of myself lol.
Thank you for all the lovely reviews for this fic and my other ones. I know I said this last week but I just want to reassure readers of "The Hardest Thing of All" that I honestly haven't left it. It's just taking a lot more time than I'd expected it to. I have loads of chapters done on it, but most of them are towards the end lol. Yeah, I work in weird ways. But it WILL be updated and finished, I promise.
Please Review! xx
