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 Twelve: A Fine Line

Many may not have thought it, but Harry fancied there was quite a difference between "cheating" and "having an affair." The first implied a mistake, an error passed off as an experiment; it implied not valid reasons, but excuses and selfish impulses. The other, the "affair", implied more. It implied that a choice had been made to carry on. It implied feelings and reasons.

To Harry, who was lying on his bed and staring at the blank ceiling, it seemed pretty damn obvious as to which category he fell into. There was no way he was having an affair. He didn't have a single valid reason for his behaviour of late. All he had were excuses…it doesn't mean anything, I'm just curious, it's a phase that'll pass…nothing but empty words, meant for his peace of mind.

But it just didn't make any sense. He loved Ginny. He loved her with all his heart. How could he not? She was perfect. He loved her flaming red hair that fell to her gorgeous, slender hips; he loved her softly tanned skin and small, firm breasts. And he practically worshipped her beautiful toned stomach and long, smooth legs.

Whereas Snape – Harry snorted to himself – Snape, well…where did you start?

Long, greasy hair, large, hooked nose, rounded stomach, bony chest, and skin so pale it made him look ill.

Ginny had big, brown eyes and a smile that made him go all gooey inside.

Snape's eyes were dark and empty, and his scowl made him look unapproachable.

Ginny had cute, little freckles on her face and arms.

Snape was full of scars and hair.

Ginny was energetic and outgoing. She enjoyed being with her friends and having fun.

Snape was sour and hated socialising. He didn't enjoy anything.

Not very attractive, was he? And he was nothing compared to Ginny. He didn't even have the personality to make up for the bad looks.

So why was Harry so bloody obsessed with him?

He had it all – a lovely townhouse in London, a well-paid job that he enjoyed, a fiancée that thought the world of him, and future in-laws that adored him. Unofficial or not, the Weasley's had been his family for years, and he had everything to look forward to – children, for instance. He and Ginny were going to have babies (two, maybe three, possibly even four) and he was going to watch them grow up; first words, first steps, first wands, watching them go off to Hogwarts, then getting married and having kids of their own. He was going to be someone's grandfather; great-grandfather even. That was all ahead of him, waiting to be enjoyed. It was the life his parents had never had, the life he'd thought he would never be able to have. And he was prepared to throw all that away because he felt some inexplicable, teensy weensy, microscopic attraction to Severus Snape? It was madness.

But God, he couldn't help but grin! Just remembering the way Snape's naked body had felt against his was enough to make him hard. The way their hot, frantic bodies had rubbed together, so new, so alive. No fancy lingerie, no make-up, none of that. Just them, desperate and sweaty, the feeling so real, so raw, so bloody masculine!

Harry let out a deep groan, which he quickly stifled by shoving his hand up to his mouth. He bit hard at the back of his fingers as he let his other hand slide down, down into his pants. He couldn't get the image of himself and Snape out of his head. The way they'd been humping against each other, Harry's nails digging into the man's back, the sounds of harsh breaths and moans filling his ears.

He should have felt ashamed. He should have felt dirty and guilty. And he did, to an extent.

But right now, what he felt more than anything else, was giddy excitement.


"What a morning," Ron complained, dropping into a seat opposite Harry in the canteen. His cheeks were flushed, almost matching the colour of his hair, and his brow was damp with sweat. He let out a long puff of air and reached for the bottle of water on his tray. As he was busy taking gulp after gulp, Hermione joined them at their table, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend.

"I don't know how many times I've told you to use cooling charms when you're chasing someone in this hot weather," she reprehended. "Honestly, you'll end up collapsing from heat exhaustion if you carry on like this."

Ron lowered the bottle with a few heavy pants.

"Hermione," he said, "When some insane person jumps out in front of me and starts running down the street, throwing curses left, right, and centre, cooling charms are the last thing on my mind." He took a few final swigs of water and tossed the empty bottle back onto his tray. "Women, eh?" he said to Harry. "They think they know it all. Especially this one," he nodded his head at Hermione. "The other day I was in the middle of modifying one of those electric lights we have in the house and she comes in and starts harping on about how I'm a danger to everyone around me!"

"You'd set the lamp on fire!"

"It was supposed to be on fire," he told her, and Harry could tell this wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation. "That's the way we do it in the wizarding world. Remember?"

"Yeah, with wooden torches and chandeliers," she replied, "not with lampshades!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Women, eh?" he said again.

Harry was about to reply, but then he caught the look on Hermione's face. He looked down, grinned, and busied himself with his meat and potato pasty.

It had been a relatively busy week at work and that was how Harry liked it best. Every day was different and he craved the adventure it brought his way. This week alone had had him up and down the country, following leads and organising all sorts of raids. On Monday they'd busted a group of twenty-something year olds for supplying illegal and highly dangerous potions to the public; on Wednesday they'd arrested a carnivorous Mermaid for feasting on the humans she'd managed to lure into the water with the promise of sex, and yesterday they'd chased on old man right up onto the very roof of Buckingham Palace. Harry still wasn't entirely sure that placing those two particularly strong memory charms on the Queen had been such a good idea, especially when he'd seen footage of her on last nights news, wandering around London with a skateboard in her hand. But still, it was all in a days work and he had Kingsley and the Prime Minister's assurances that they would keep an eye on her.

Away from work, things were much calmer. The wedding arrangements had pretty much been taking care of themselves now that the invitations had been sent out, and most of what they would need for their December wedding had been ordered and booked, leaving Harry and Ginny free for entire evenings, something which they had been only too pleased to take advantage of. So far this week they had enjoyed two fancy meals out in London – one of which had been on a boat down the River Thames – as well as a Weasley family visit to The Burrow, and a trip to the cinema with Teddy and Andromeda. The plan was to cram in as much time as possible with each other, family, and friends, before Ginny's matches started up again – her team was now through to the quarter-finals of the European Championships and if they won their next match she'd be gone for a whole week, with an extra four days added on if they won the semi's. Whilst Harry had connections in the Floo offices in the Department of Magical Transportation, he couldn't keep asking them for favours whenever Ginny went abroad. He'd just have to make do with conversations through the fire instead of actual visits.

He wished he could go and watch her but it was very rare he ever got the chance. Apart from the occasional few that were played during the evening or on a weekend, most of her matches were scheduled for the daytime whilst he was at work. A lot of people in his office had booked the time off in order to go and enjoy the games with their kids, but Harry didn't have that luxury as Head Auror. Still, Ginny didn't mind too much and she always gave him a blow-by-blow account of the match the moment she got home.

Sighing, he wiped the crumbs from his pasty off his work robes and reached for his drink. He missed Quidditch. He missed the adrenaline it gave him, blood pumping through his veins as he soared through the air, the crowd cheering him on. Being the Gryffindor Seeker was the first thing Harry had ever been good at and he'd felt like he'd truly belonged on that team. It had been fun and competitive, something away from all the school work and nasty rumours that had once been so prominent in his life. Still were, in fact, but he had other things to take his mind off all that now. If he didn't have Ginny and her love, he wasn't sure what his life would be like.

"…awake? Harry? Hello?"

"Hm?" Harry looked up. Ron and Hermione were staring at him over their lunch.

"Where were you?" Ron asked with a grin. "Some place nice, I hope?"

Harry chuckled and unfastened his drink. "I was just thinking," he told them.

"About?"

"Quidditch."

Hermione snorted and turned back to her lasagne. Ron just smirked and launched into a one-sided conversation on all the many reasons the Chudley Cannons were going to beat the Holyhead Harpies next week.

By the time Ron had reached Reason Number Eleven ("My sister's in the Harpies and what are the chances of someone we know actually winning the Championships?"), Harry had finished eating his rather large slice of apple pie and Hermione was nowhere in sight.

"Ron," Harry said, interrupting a long, passionate speech on bad Weasley luck, "I fail to see what this has to do with anything. If the Harpies win, you know you'll be bragging about it to everyone."

"What do you mean, 'if'?" came a familiar voice. They both looked up and found Ginny approaching their table. Harry smiled at her and she bent down and kissed him on the lips in greeting.

"Oh, come on, Gin," said Ron, stabbing his fork through his now-cold beef burger. "You don't stand a chance against the Cannons and you know it. They've been on top of their game this year."

"And we haven't?" she replied. "We're ahead of them in the tables in case you've forgotten."

"Not for long," he assured her. "Your Chaser's are a bunch of school kids compared to ours."

"Oh, stop talking out of your arse and budge up. I want to see what Harry wants to do for his birthday."

Ron grumbled to himself but moved into Hermione's empty chair all the same. Ginny slid into his vacated one and beamed at Harry.

"You came all the way here to talk about my birthday?" he asked, slightly bewildered.

"Well, no," she admitted. "Charlie Wilkinson floo'd me before. He wants me to try out for the England team! Can you believe it?"

"Really? Wow, that's fantastic!"

"Yeah," mumbled Ron. "Brilliant."

"Just imagine – in three years time, I could be playing at the World Cup! How amazing is that?"

"I'm really happy for you," Harry told her, genuinely pleased. Then he smirked and glanced at Ron. "What was that you were saying about Weasley luck?"

"Mustn't affect the girls," he muttered. "So, what's this about Harry's birthday?"

Ginny rolled her eyes but changed the subject anyway. "Well, I know you said you don't want a fuss, but I was thinking that maybe we could all go out for a meal or something? I don't like not doing something and you're going to be 23."

"23 is hardly special," he pointed out.

"But you're only 23 once," she said with a smile.

Harry sighed, shaking his head, but his lips flicked upwards at her dedication. "Fine," he said. "A birthday meal it is then. But I don't know what all the fuss is about. It isn't for another month yet."

She stood up from the table. "These things need planning in advance," she said. She bent forwards and kissed him swiftly on the lips again. "OK, I'll see you at home. Have a nice day." And with a wave, she was off across the room and out of the double doors.

"Well," said Harry, getting to his feet and lifting his tray. "That's good news, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "It's about time we all went out for a proper meal."

"I meant Ginny playing for England."

"Oh. Yeah. Great."

Harry laughed at his friend and put his tray on the pile. "Come on, Ronniekins. Back to work."


The air was quite humid that evening as Harry made his way across the quiet village square of Godric's Hollow. Steam rose from the rain washed cobblestones as the dying, orange sun warmed everything before him, the shop windows, the church gates, the puddles of rain water. Light glinted off the large memorial of Lily and James Potter, their still faces shining down on their son, who hurried passed them without a glance.

He was late, but that was the least of his worries. Why was it that when he was with his friends he could forget about all of this and have a good time? Yet the moment he was alone, his thoughts practically sprinted to Severus Snape? The man was a demon and Harry's obsession with him was going to ruin lives. Ginny had been so happy today and just imaging the look on her face should she ever find out what Harry had been up to was enough to make his heart feel torn in two. He couldn't carry on doing this to her. He couldn't do it to Snape or to himself. It wasn't fair.

When Harry had returned home from work that day, he and Ginny had gone straight to the bedroom and made love. Wasn't that proof enough that their relationship was exciting and passionate? They didn't need wedding rings to tell them that they were a family – it was deeply etched into everything they did. From waking up in the morning, to going to sleep at night; from arguing over whose turn it was to cook, from apologising and forgetting it had ever happened with a few simple words and a kiss. He was happy with Ginny and that was the life he wanted.

So it was no great surprise that anxiety gripped Harry's stomach painfully as he hurried around the corner that led to Dumbledore's old cottage. After spending a fantastic week with Ginny, he was finally here to tell Snape, once and for all, that it was friendship or nothing.

As he continued down the gavel path, he caught a glimpse of the Potter House and his heart sank. His parents would be so very ashamed of him if they could see him now. Sirius would be disappointed, and Dumbledore would no doubt look at him sadly, something which, Harry had experienced in his time, was far worse than anything else the man could possibly say or do.

But what did that matter? They weren't here to comfort or to scold, and that was yet another reason why he had to end things with Snape. Ginny was the one who'd been there for Harry. She'd been there through thick and thin. When Dumbledore had died, she'd been there to hold him. When he'd broken up with her to keep her safe, she'd never lost hope. And when the war had ended, she'd been so strong.

What was Snape, compared to that? Definitely not something worth all this messing around, that was for sure. He needed to bring things to an end. Friendship or nothing. You could never have too many friends.

By the time he reached the door to Snape's cottage, his heart was beating in his throat. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and lifted a hand to knock. A moment later, Snape was stood facing him, dark clothes, dark scowl, dark demeanour.

"Hey." Harry swallowed, then added, "How are you?"

Snape's eyes flickered down the length of his body and Harry could tell the man was immediately suspicious of him. He took a deep, silent breath and tried to calm his nerves. Only Snape could ever have this effect on him.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I got held up."

Snape narrowed his eyes and Harry held his breath. As he waited for the results of whatever judgement Snape was making of him, he cursed himself for being so tense. But just as he was contemplating what to say to end the growing silence, Snape took a step back, apparently satisfied with what greeted him on his doorstep.

"Come in, then," he said, turning his back and heading for the living room. "Would you like a drink? I have a new bottle of wine in."

"Actually," said Harry, "I thought we could go out tonight. I fancy going to the pub. We haven't been there in a while. What do you say?"

"Too many people," Snape answered briskly. "I'm not particularly in the mood for an audience." Then he stopped, and turned to Harry slowly. "Although…if that's what you prefer, I'm sure it can easily be arranged."

Harry's eyes bulged and he felt himself blushing. He made to smile and laugh off Snape's advances as a joke, but it came out a nervous titter. Snape's infamous eyebrow rose and Harry gulped.

"I meant, you know…to talk." Snape's expression didn't change and Harry struggled to press on. "Do you want to go to London then, or something? We could go to a café or watch a film."

"Hmm." Snape looked thoughtful, and he crossed his arms. "We can't do much talking if we're watching a film."

"Oh. Yeah, of course. You're right. OK. Well…"

"Harry?"

He stopped his idiotic stammering and looked up.

"You're nervous," Snape said. "Don't be."

Harry laughed. "I'm not nervous," he said, which would have sounded a lot more convincing if his voice hadn't chosen that moment to imitate the high tones of a young girl. He cringed as he hastily cleared his throat, then said, "Why don't we go for a walk? We can talk and get some air."

Snape just smirked and headed towards doors. Harry held still as the man pressed passed him, ignoring the way his stomach did a triple somersault at the brief contact. Friendship or nothing, he reminded himself. He turned and followed Snape.

"So," he said, walking alongside the man, treading the path he had only just come, "How was your day?"

"Tolerable. Yours?"

"It was good, yeah," he replied. "We arrested a load of people. Oh, and Ginny's been asked to try out for the England quidditch team after the European Championships are over. She could be playing in the next World Cup, isn't that great?"

Snape cast a sideways look at Harry and his mouth twitched.

"How lovely for her," he drawled in response. "Which reminds me – I received an invite to your wedding yesterday."

Harry almost tripped over his own feet. He stopped in his tracks and stared at Snape.

"You did?"

"I did."

"What did you do with it?" And why was there a sweat breaking out over Harry's body?

"What do you mean, 'what did you do with it'?" Snape scoffed. "It's hardly an explosive or a dangerous curse. It's an invitation, and a vile-inducingly romantic one at that."

"I mean, did you reply to it or throw it away or what?"

Snape sighed and crossed his arms for the second time that evening.

"I left it on the kitchen table," he said, as if speaking to a child. "There? Are you happy?"

Harry flushed and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry," he said. "It's just…I –"

" – Didn't put me down on your guest list," Snape finished, resuming their walking. "I gathered that much, Potter."

Harry offered an apologetic smile. "Ginny must have done it," he said, and that thought hurt like hell. The fact that she would put aside her hatred for Snape, just so Harry could have all his friends at their wedding…

"So…are you coming?"

Snape glanced over at him. "Do you want me to?"

They had now reached the end of the gravel path. Along the cobbled road that led back to the village square, streetlamps were jumping into life. The road that led out of Godric's Hollow and into the countryside had only the light of the setting sun. From here, Harry could see perfectly the ruined house in which his parents had once lived. It was in this direction he now walked and Snape strolled with him.

When they reached the garden fence, Harry stopped to take in the now-familiar sight. The garden was just as overgrown and as wild as ever, and the chipped dirty-white paint on the front door was now almost gone completely. The windows were covered in dirt and dust, making it hard for him to see into the room beyond. Not for the first time, he experienced the overwhelming urge to push open the gate and march up the path. He wanted to see the bedrooms and the bathroom. He wanted to see the kitchen and the living room. He wanted to know what it felt like to look through the window from the other side.

He reached out a hand and grasped the rusty metal of the garden gate. The plaque commemorating the terrible events of that long-ago Halloween night gleamed in the evening light. His eyes travelled over the many messages that had been scrawled on its surface, all in different colours, all flashing up at him; words of condolences, words of luck and encouragement, words of congratulations.

More than anything, he wished there was someway for him to remember.

Snape shifted beside him. Harry glanced at him, then back at the house.

"Do you miss her?" he asked the older man quietly. "My mum?"

Snape was silent. He, too, was looking at the broken house and Harry would have given anything to know what was going through his mind. Of course he missed her, he thought. What a stupid thing to ask. Lily had been his best friend for years.

He thought what it would be like if Ron or Hermione were suddenly taken away from him one day and his heart clenched. Then he thought of how it must have been for Snape. He'd lost his friendship with Lily whilst she'd been alive, and then he'd gone on to…well. He couldn't think about that now. Not with Snape standing next to him. Snape had paid many times for his mistakes.

"I used to imagine what my life would have been like if they hadn't been killed," Harry spoke softly. "All the holidays we would have gone on, all the visits to Sirius and Remus. I used to imagine going shopping in Diagon Alley with them, and all the friends I would have made before school. And as much as I love Ron and Hermione and Ginny…I can't help but sometimes wonder what everything would be like now…if they were alive. Would Sirius still be here? Would Remus, and Dumbledore?"

He looked to Snape, who was still gazing up at the house. He briefly wondered if he'd been in there, all those years ago, on his mission to find a photograph of Lily.

"You shouldn't dwell on what could have been," Snape said suddenly, startling Harry, despite his voice being barely above a whisper. "Thoughts like that will drive you crazy. Believe me, I know."

Harry looked at him for a little while longer. He then sighed, and nodded.

They spent the next hour walking around the village, Harry asking questions and listening as Snape talked about the Lily Evans he had known at school. As well as her skills in Charms and Potions – Lily had known about Snape being the Half-Blood Prince and had used his notes countless times in class – she had also been quite gifted at chess and had loved challenging Snape to matches, which was how she had won many of the chocolate frog cards she had collected to show her parents at home. She'd loved to read and had spent many hours in the library, pouring over her homework with Snape, sitting at the table that overlooked the lake. Just as Harry had been starting to think of how much she was reminding him of Hermione, Snape had gone on to describe all the tricks they had bought from Jonko's and all the pranks they had played on her parents during the first few summer holidays away from Hogwarts.

Eventually, their walk led them out of the village and into the countryside. By now, the sun had disappeared and Godric's Hollow glittered below them as they climbed a grassy hill to survey their surroundings. Apart from the lights in the distance, darkness was all around them and the hot night air was as stifling as ever it could be in the summer. Silence was everywhere.

Perhaps it was because they'd talked about his mother; perhaps it was because of the stillness in the air; or perhaps it was even because of Snape's presence by his side. Whatever it was, Harry felt at peace with the world. He could happily sit here all night, he thought, lost in the darkness, but not lost at all.

Snape really was just like everyone else, he realised. He loved like everyone else, just as much as he hurt like them too. Harry couldn't even begin to comprehend what the man had been through in his life, but he was learning.

A gentle breeze fluttered his hair and he closed his eyes, savouring the coolness on his skin.

Snape let out a breath of air. Harry turned and smiled at him, his eyes only just able to make out the figure next to him. He felt a hand on his arm and he started. He gazed into dark eyes that twinkled in the light from the stars and his stomach fluttered. And when warm lips pressed against his, he sighed in contentment as he melted into the strong embrace, slowly and softly returning the kiss.

Buttons were fumbled with and skin was stroked. Teeth found his sensitive neck as he bit his lip against the moan that wanted desperately to escape. A thigh slid in between his legs as he lay down, heart pounding.

As fingers loosened his belt, he told himself that this was the last time.

And as a rough hand fastened around his cock, he realised that he was, in fact, now having an affair with Severus Snape.


A/N: This chapter looked a lot longer on word doc lol. Anywho, there is no unedited version for this chapter, sorry to all you smutty fans out there lol. And thank you for all the kind reviews last time. They really cheered me up. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! xx