No Milk Today

by Lyowyn

A 9 year old Severus Snape meets an old man who might just be able to change his destiny and set him on the path to redemption. Harry Potter has an interesting conversation with a dead man's portrait. Story spanning Severus' Hogwarts years with frequent jumps to post-war Hogwarts. Eventually some slash. Weekly updates planned.

14. Chapter 14

-June, 1977-

Harry tried to take comfort in the familiar morning ritual of tea with Severus, focusing on the cup of perfectly brewed tea that Severus had made for him, but it was unaccountably awkward without his aging potion. He was uncomfortably aware of his every action. He felt observed, like an insect under glass. He fidgeted with his teacup as he struggled to find something to say to break the silence. Severus appeared to be just as ill at ease as he stared down at his own cup, unwilling to meet Harry's eyes.

"It really is nice to meet you, Severus. My uncle thinks very highly of you," Harry ventured. "It sounds as though you're quite the prodigy."

"Mr. Peverell is a good teacher. I'm sure that I don't have to tell you that."

"Yes," Harry agreed, not quite comfortable with giving himself praise.

They fell silent again, sipping their tea.

"You've been studying defensive magic?" Severus asked.

"Amongst other things," Harry answered.

Another long silence.

"What do you think of England's chances for the cup this year?" Harry asked.

Severus looked up from his tea then. "Dismal as ever, I imagine. I don't really follow quidditch that much."

Harry sighed, as though he didn't know as much. This was inane. Why on earth had he asked Severus to stay for tea? He should have rushed him out the door and been done with it. He was only asking for trouble by spending more time with him like this, and Severus obviously wanted to leave.

"It's hot already, for June," Harry said, knowing it was the most boring conversational gambit ever, even as the words left his mouth.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is that why you were sleeping in the buff then?"

There was a moment of shocked silence, as the question broke the awkwardness between them like a sledgehammer into a ming vase, and then Harry laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, and Severus smiled at him.

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that, I guess you got an eyeful, huh?"

"Two eyes."

"Well, I guess that will teach you not to burst in on a bloke when he's sleeping one off."

"Ah, that's why you didn't hear me knocking then?"

"Yeah, well, I had a bit of a row with a mate, and emptying Peverell's liquor cabinet seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I was dreading walking in to find your uncle lying dead, and instead I'm met with your Hampton Rock."

"What?" Harry frowned.

"Your broom and bludgers," Severus clarified.

"Ah." Harry sipped at his tea, hiding a smile.

"I suppose I'll keep house hunting today if Peverell isn't going to be around," Severus said as he finished his tea.

"Do you want some company?" Harry asked, and immediately cursed himself for a fool. Yet, all the same, he continued on anyway. "I'm just stuck here all day by myself with nothing to do."

Severus surveyed him for a moment before answering. "Yeah, all right. I haven't had much luck finding anything around here, so I thought I'd maybe start looking in London."

"Great."

oOoOoOo

Harry spent the morning trailing Severus around the seedier parts of wizarding London, touring a series of ancient, closet-sized rooms in ill repair that, even at seventies real estate prices, seemed exorbitantly expensive to Harry. He'd never had to rent before, but he hadn't paid more for his cottage in Cokeworth than it would cost to rent one of the nicer flats advertised in The Daily Prophet for the span of a year.

By noon, as they left the final property on his list, Severus was looking decidedly crestfallen.

"I guess I'll just stay home for the summer," he said. "It really doesn't make that much sense to rent for only a few months anyway."

Harry was wondering if he should have put more money into Severus' Gringotts account. The sum was plenty large enough to house Severus for the summer in even one of the more expensive London flats, but growing up in poverty had made him frugal, and the man was obviously reluctant to spend more than the bare minimum- while simultaneously being unwilling to spend even that amount on a room barely large enough to hold a twin bed, with peeling paint and a ceiling that needed magic to keep the rain out.

Harry lightly bumped his shoulder into Severus'. "Hey, cheer up. My first bedroom was a cupboard under the stairs, so it could be worse. I'm sure my uncle would let you stay with him, if you wanted to."

Severus shook his head. "I don't think so. I stay with him over the holidays usually. I used to think that he'd ask me to move in, but he never has." He reconsidered his words and continued. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. He's done so much for me already. I'm sure he wants some privacy, and it isn't as though it's a large house."

Harry frowned. He'd never stopped to consider the idea that Severus might think he was unwanted. "Well, it isn't as though he could just have you move in while you were a kid. It's different now. You're an adult; you don't need your father's permission anymore."

"Maybe," Severus allowed. "Still, if he wanted me there, I think he would have asked. I'd do anything to get out of that house."

"Except live in a rat infested closet," Harry pointed out.

"Not for eighty galleons a week! They must be mad."

"Just the price of living in the big city, I guess," Harry said, he slung an arm around Severus' shoulders, and jerked his head back toward Diagon. "Come on, I'll buy you some lunch."

Harry felt Severus stiffen beneath his arm and realized his mistake. While the gesture would have been a common one from Peverell, it was suddenly too familiar. But, just as Harry was about to remove his arm, he felt Severus relax beneath him.

"Just because I don't want to spend eighty galleons a week on a shitty flat, it doesn't mean that I can't afford lunch."

"I never said that it did," Harry said, and let his arm fall away as they started walking back up toward Diagon.

"How much is your rent?" Severus asked.

"I've never rented," Harry said, "lived out of a tent a lot after I left school, and then I stayed with friends for a while. I've been getting room and board with my job lately."

"Oh? What do you do for work, then?"

"Nothing terribly interesting," Harry said, doing his best to be vague and nonspecific without outright lying, "a lot of administrative paperwork and independent research. I've been working with magical devices lately. I made a few of the items in your bag of tricks."

Severus frowned. "My bag of tricks?"

Harry scanned up and down the street to make sure they were out of earshot of any of the other pedestrians. He proceeded with caution anyway. "Your pocket watch and lapel pin, specifically," he said.

"Oh," Severus said. "I hadn't realized that you were involved with any of that."

"Peripherally," Harry said. "I don't expect you to take my word on it without first speaking to my uncle or Dumbledore, but you don't need to worry about me being a security risk. I'm aware of your role."

"That's a relief. Though, I won't take your word for it."

Harry inclined his head. "I'd be worried if you did. Anything in particular that you're in the mood for?"

"I'm not picky. Let's walk along the street and see what smells good."

"I like the way you think," Harry said approvingly, and they turned the corner onto Diagon Alley.

Noon on a weekday meant that Diagon was nearly deserted, and they wouldn't have to worry about finding seating wherever they chose. Severus didn't seem to be in much of a hurry though, as they meandered in the June sunshine- window shopping as much as they were looking for a place to eat.

Eventually, they wandered down Gastronomic Alley and found a nice little bistro, wafting out the smell of freshly baked bread, with small umbrellaed tables outside in a fenced patio.

They sipped iced tea and watched the pedestrians in companionable silence for a while as they waited for their food.

"So, since you aren't who I thought you were this morning, I'm guessing that you aren't a Slytherin. Which house were you in?" Severus asked.

Harry smirked at him. "We've spent the whole morning together. Don't you have me pegged down yet?"

Severus shrugged, stirring his straw in his glass. "I have my suspicions."

"Which are?" Harry prodded.

"Ravenclaw,"Severus ventured.

Harry barked out a laugh. "Merlin, no! What on earth would make you think that?"

"You seem clever enough. The way you talked about your independent research, I guess, but if I'm wrong about Ravenclaw, I suppose that you must be a Gryffindor."

"Why so sure that I don't belong in your house?"

"Wrong personality for Slytherin. You aren't reserved enough to have grown up in the dungeons."

"And Hufflepuff?"

"The same reason, but the opposite side of the spectrum. Hufflepuffs are always trying to be everyone's friend. You've been nice to me, but you have a reason to be. You haven't been overly friendly to anyone else we've spoken to today."

"You don't think that that's a bit too much of a generalization?" Harry asked.

"There are outliers in every group, but stereotypes exist for a reason. Tell me that I'm wrong about Gryffindor, and I'll concede the point."

"I can't," Harry admitted. "Me lion. You snake."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Tarzan would have been a Gryffindor as well."

Harry chuckled at that, grinning. "No doubt."

"You're a half blood also, then?"

"Muggleborn mum," Harry admitted. "I spent a lot of time with her side of the family, growing up."

"Is that why you stand with your uncle?"

Harry glanced around, but they were alone. "I follow my conscience," he answered carefully.

Severus nodded slowly. "That's become my reason as well."

Harry cocked his head to the side slightly. "Has become, so that wasn't your original motivation?" He had assumed that he and Dumbledore had convinced Severus on moral grounds alone, but maybe he should have known better.

"I am loyal to those who deserve my loyalty," Severus responded.

Ah, so it was loyalty to Peverell and Lily that had convinced Severus to turn spy, not a desire to do the right thing. Still, better loyalty than restitution.

Harry nodded and sipped his tea.

The waiter returned then with their food, light sandwiches and a cold cucumber soup- just the thing for a warm day. They fell quiet for a while as they set into their meals.

Severus was the one to break the silence. "You know, I always hated you a bit before, but you aren't so bad."

"Hated me? Why?" Hate seemed a strong emotion for someone Severus had never met, particularly someone who had been entirely fictional until that morning.

"Jealousy mostly," Severus answered. "A part of me always thought that one year Peverell wouldn't bother coming back for the summer, that he was just killing time with me while you took your summer holidays. I was just a pet project."

Severus paused a moment, playing with his food before continuing."Things that you've said today make it clear that he confides much more to you than he does me. You know, I don't even know his first name. There's so much that he doesn't tell me."

"He has his secrets, but, for what it's worth, you have it the wrong way round. I'm the one he's killing time with while you're at school."

Severus shook his head, not quite believing it. "I don't know. He's been... different this summer. Something has changed. I don't know if it's just the… James Bond stuff, or something else, but I feel like he's pulling away, getting ready to leave."

Harry knew all too well just what had changed, looking into those dark eyes across the table, but he hardly thought that saying so would put Severus at ease.

oOoOoOo

They spent the day in each other's company, doing nothing much at all as they wandered through wizarding London, and chatted about nothing in particular while Harry tried his best to steer the conversation away from areas that required outright lies on his part.

Still, Harry thought that he'd never had such a wonderful day in all his life.

Severus had no sense of the mountain of history that was, or would be, between them, and the dynamics of the mentor/student relationship Harry had developed with him as Peverell were gone. For the first time, Harry felt like he was getting to know the real Severus- free from all preconceptions and complications. It was liberating, and in some ways it made him feel like a lovesick teenager again.

He had to continually remind himself why it would be a very bad idea to get too comfortable with this situation. Tomorrow he would have to return in his guise as Peverell and reestablish the status quo. Peverell's "nephew Harry" would have to fade away into the woodwork. There could be no place for him here. He could not afford to sacrifice the future they might have together for one bright moment in the past.

It had been Severus' suggestion that they pick up dinner in Cokeworth on their way back to the cottage. It was one of Harry's favorite takeaway places, but he'd made a show of looking over the menu board and choosing something other than his usual.

Walking home, the scent of good food wafting from the bag hung over his arm, Harry allowed their shoulders to brush occasionally, and Severus didn't seem to mind one bit.

He allowed himself that small contact at least, revelling in it even as his heart broke at the knowledge that it would all soon be over.

Their path led them past the Evans house, and Harry looked up on instinct, even as Severus did the same, just in time to see his father exiting from the front door into the glow of the porchlight.

There was a soppy grin on James Potter's face as he all but pranced down the front steps and over the garden path to the footway. He pulled to a halt directly in Severus and Harry's path, and had started to turn away from them before recognition cleared the smile from his face.

"Snivellus," he said. "What are you doing lurking around Lily's house?"

Harry could feel the tension radiating off Severus, beside him.

"As though I have any interest in your filthy mudblood girlfriend, Potter."

"Right," James said sarcastically. "I'm sure that you wouldn't want any of your death eater friends to know that a muggle-born used to be your best friend."

He looked Harry up and down then, and Harry tensed under his father's regard. He hadn't stood face to face with him since that day he'd given him a bollocking on the train platform in his third year. Now, James was just a bit taller than him, and Harry had none of the insulation of respect and wariness that children instinctively have for any adult stranger.

Harry wasn't sure if he was expecting or just dreading some kind of familial recognition, but after a cursory study, James dismissed him with a look of distaste.

"We were just on our way home,"Harry said, in the futile hope that he might diffuse the situation. "We don't want any trouble."

"Best find a different way home from now on then," James said. "Who are you anyway?" He looked back to Severus before Harry could answer. "Got yourself a new death eater boyfriend, or are you just pulling muggle pillow-biters at the bogs now?"

"I'm neither a muggle, nor a death eater," Harry answered before Severus could say anything. "Severus has already told you that we were only walking by on our way home. We have as much right to use the street as anyone else. Now, please step aside and let us be on our way."

"Say what you want, if you're hanging about Snape, you're guilty by association as far as I'm concerned."

"Guilty of what exactly, Potter?" Severus asked. "Walking while Slytherin? Why don't you go shove your prejudices up your arse, and get the fuck out of our way."

Before the situation could escalate any further, the front door to the Evans house banged open and they all looked over as Lily strode purposefully down the steps- looking like a vengeful harpy.

"What the bloody hell is going on out here?"she hissed.

"We were just passing by when your toy boy skipped out of the house, looking freshly shagged, and decided that picking a fight would be a good way to cap off the night," Severus said with a sneer.

Lily narrowed her eyes at him, but otherwise ignored the insinuation. "Who is this?" she asked, glancing from Severus to Harry, then to James and back to Harry. She didn't seem to miss the resemblance and was clearly wondering if Harry was with James despite his proximity to Severus.

"Peverell's nephew," Severus answered. "Now, if you wouldn't mind calling off your dog, our dinner is getting cold, and we have better things to do than hang about with mudbloods and blood traitors."

Harry was watching Severus and saw the look of pleading apology in his eyes.

Lily's voice was cold as she said, "You'd better get going, then."

Severus nodded to her, then he gripped Harry's forearm and pulled him along as they sidestepped James and continued on down the street.

Harry heard his parents arguing behind them as they walked away.

"I told you not to bother him anymore."

"He was skulking around outside your house. What do you expect me to do?"

"They were walking by. Peverell lives three blocks away. He doesn't have to go out of his way to avoid walking by my house just because we aren't friends anymore."

"You actually believed that? How naive are you?"

"Naive enough to think that you've actually grown up, I guess," she snapped at him.

"I didn't mean it like that, but you have to be…"

Their voices had been growing steadily quieter as Harry and Severus walked away and now, as they turned the corner, Harry lost the sense of their words completely.

Severus still grasped his arm in a tight squeeze and Harry gently laid his other hand over Severus', patting until the grip lessened.

Severus took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky exhale.

"It must be difficult to say those things to her," Harry said.

"She knows that I don't mean it."

"Still..." Harry knew that it hadn't been so long ago that the same words had been used genuinely, in anger, and he doubted that the sting would be entirely gone from them.

"I don't understand what she sees in that idiot," Severus said.

Harry made a noncommittal noise.

"Why did you let him think we were dating, anyway?" Severus asked.

Because we sort of are, Harry thought. He shrugged. "For someone so opposed to bigotry, he doesn't seem to respect people who are different very much.

"That's true enough, but I doubt that he actually cares that I'm gay, it's just one more thing he can use to goad me."

The idea that his father might not actually be homophobic, despite his words, actually made Harry feel a bit better. "It didn't seem to work," Harry observed.

Severus shrugged. "It might've done, before, but I have bigger things to worry about than James Potter's masculine posturing."

Harry snorted.

"Thanks for not caring anyway."

"That you're gay? Well, today wasn't exactly a date, I'm not a muggle, and I've never been cottaging, but," Harry shrugged, "I'm not ashamed to say that that's something we have in common."

"I was hoping that was the case," Severus said, and Harry could hear the smile in his voice.

Harry remained quiet as they continued walking, turning now down the lane that led to the cottage. "I'll be leaving tomorrow," he said, carefully.

"Do you have to?" Severus asked.

Harry wanted to say no. He wanted to say that he could stay as long as Severus would have him, but he needed time to think. He needed time to consider all the ramifications of his actions today, and all the possible outcomes. As much as he would love to spend more time with Severus as himself, he couldn't let that desire get in the way of his long-term goals.

"I have to go, but maybe I can come back," he said finally.

"I'd like that," Severus said.

They'd reached the front door now, and Harry pulled out his wand to open the door.

"Do you think your uncle is back yet?"

"I'd be very surprised if he were," Harry said, smiling to himself.

The cottage was dark as they entered, and Harry waved his wand to light the candles and a low fire as Severus took their bags of food to the table and began putting it on plates.

There was a tension between them now, not entirely unpleasant, but a sense of anticipation. Harry did his best to ignore the feeling.

"I'd say that we could have a glass of whiskey, but it looks like you've finished the bottle," Severus said, as he looked through the liquor cabinet.

"There's a bottle of wine in the root cellar," Harry said, as he went for the glasses and Severus went to fetch the bottle.

He came back a moment later, blowing dust off the label as he held it up to the candlelight. "This looks like nice stuff. You're sure that your uncle won't mind?"

Harry glanced at the label before tapping the top with his wand to uncork it. "He won't care, but I'll take the blame if I'm wrong." He poured them each a glass and took a seat at the table.

The wine was nice, light and fruity, and Harry had a happy buzz by the time they finished dinner.

"You're leaving tomorrow then, whether your uncle is back or not?" Severus asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be back though."

"Where are you going?"

"Scotland for now," Harry answered, seeing no harm in a vague truth.

"But you'll be back?" Severus prodded. "Soon?"

"Maybe."

"Today was fun. I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime."

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea."

"Why not?" Severus demanded.

Harry sighed. "It's complicated. I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"You're seeing someone else, then?"

"Well, no… not technically." Harry groaned. "Look, you're seventeen, I'm just not sure that it would be a good idea for us to get involved at this point in time."

"I'm not a child."

"I know that you aren't a child, but you're still in school. Which is really the least of all the reasons why this would be a bad idea. I like you, Severus, and I had fun today too, but it just isn't a good idea for this to continue further."

Severus glared at him as he drained his glass of wine. He set it down and took a slow breath. "I'm staying here tonight."

"You're what?" Harry asked, a bit flabbergasted by the sudden statement.

"I'm staying here. I couldn't find an apartment, and I don't want to go home. Your uncle doesn't mind if I stay the night when I'm over late. It's late; I'm staying here tonight."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You're sleeping on the couch."

Severus shrugged.

"Fine."

Harry got up and set the dishes to cleaning themselves in the sink, as he poured himself another glass of wine. He stood at the sink sipping it with his back to Severus, as the dishes rinsed themselves and floated over to the drying rack.

Part of Harry wanted to say damn the consequences and take what Severus was offering, and the other part of him wanted to just throttle the stubbornness out of him. It was hard enough to say no without Severus' defiant insistence.

Harry had spent the last five years of his life utterly devoted to Severus Snape in every way that a person could be. He'd mentored him as a child, loved him as a portrait, even as he mourned him as a man. Severus had infused himself into every facet of Harry's life, and in all of that he'd still been missing something. Today had made that more clear than it ever had been before. For all that Harry had been satisfied with his reasonable facsimile, for all that he had built a relationship on late-night conversations over glasses of scotch and sensuous words spoken in husky tones, it could never truly compare to the touch of Severus' hand on his arm, and all that he'd been missing suddenly came crashing in upon him as a dead weight of longing and heartache.

Here was Severus, seventeen years old, disillusioned, but without the broken regret that all the years of spying for Dumbledore would bring him, offering Harry all that he so desperately wanted. All that Harry had to do was reach out and accept, but that acceptance could change everything in ways that Harry couldn't possibly predict.

The silence was suddenly filled with music, and Harry startled. One of Severus' Bowie records, soft and melancholy, the warm sound of vinyl playing in the cooling evening in a candlelit cottage in 1977, and Harry choked in a breath that was almost a sob.

He felt Severus move to stand beside him. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"Not gracefully taking no for an answer. If you're not interested, that's okay, but we can still be friends can't we?" he asked. "I don't have a lot of those right now, and not really a lot of opportunities to make new ones."

Harry didn't need Legilimency to know what Severus was thinking. He could almost hear the self-recrimination in Severus' voice. While he took pride in his intelligence and resourcefulness, years of abuse from Tobias and the marauders had left Severus with a marked lack of self-esteem where his appearance was concerned. After a childhood spent with the Dursleys, Harry understood that only all too well. He could almost hear the litany of "ugly little boy" and "freak," even now after years of being touted as the most eligible supposed bachelor in wizarding Britain.

He turned and carefully placed a hand on Severus' shoulder. "It isn't that I'm not interested. But, there's a difference between attraction and allowing one's desires to rule one's head."

Severus nodded in understanding,but before Harry could continue to assure him that they could certainly be friends, Severus had wrapped long fingers around the base of Harry's neck and bent down to brush a soft kiss against his lips.

Harry gasped out a shaky breath as Severus' lips left his. His response was instinctual as he grasped at Severus' shoulder and brought their lips together again, needy and demanding, as he desperately tasted his mouth- the prickles of tears in his eyes and a lump, hard at the back of his throat.

He was just wrapping his other hand around Severus' back to pull him closer when a sharp knock at the door, and the sudden awareness that his wards had been buzzing at the back of his mind, broke the moment and they sprang apart as if caught in the act by a disapproving maiden aunt.

They looked at each other for a moment with wild eyes, and Harry vented a manic laugh as he adjusted the front of his robes and went to answer the door. It didn't escape his notice that Severus promptly took a seat at the table.

Harry couldn't help the wry smile when he opened the door not to find a disapproving aunt, but rather his angry mother.

"Is Severus still here?" she asked without preamble.

Harry stepped aside, holding the door open wider for her to come in.

"Severus Snape! Just because you're pretending to hate me, it does not give you an excuse to make lewd insinuations about my sex life." Lily started this recrimination with a shout and ended in an angry hiss.

"Lewd?" Severus asked in a falsely incredulous tone, with raised eyebrow. "I only suggested that dear James had a healthy post-coital glow about him this evening. That was hardly lewd. Now, if I had mentioned specifics, like how he can only climax while wearing ladies undergarments and covered in jam, that might have been lewd."

Lily's anger only bore up under the strain of the smirk twisting the corner of her lips for a moment, before she snorted and strode forward to give Severus a, mostly affectionate, punch to the shoulder. "Fine," she said. "I take it back, feel free to insinuate that at your earliest convenience. Just make sure that I'm there to see the look on his face."

Severus smirked. "With relish. In all seriousness, I do apologize and I appreciate your forbearance in maintaining the ruse."

"Forbearance? That's a nice way of putting it, considering it's my life on the line if I break my vow."

Severus frowned and looked to Harry and back to Lily. "To that end, might I introduce Harry…" he faltered and looked back to Harry. "I just realized that I never asked your surname. I know that it isn't Peverell."

"Uh," Harry faltered for barely a moment. "Eckels," he said, saying the first surname that came to his head.

He'd been working his way through Severus' time-travel muggle literature reading list, and he'd just finished Bradbury's A Sound of Thunder. Even as the name left his lips he started castigating himself. Fucking perfect. The guy who steps on the butterfly and alters the timeline. Oh, yeah, and he gets shot, let's not forget that little tidbit, Harry reminded himself. Bloody, brilliant.

Lily was still staring at him with wide eyes.

"Oh, right, yeah," Harry continued quickly. "I already know, so it's okay. No secrets revealed. No unbreakable vows broken. You might want to be a bit more careful though. Forbearance and all that." He waved a hand to dismiss the fear in his mother's eyes, but she still looked shaken at the near slip.

As well she should be, if Harry had actually been Peverell's nephew, and if Peverell had actually been a real person and not just Harry, or… a real person who wasn't Harry, it probably wouldn't have mattered if Peverell's nephew had known about Severus' secrets or not. Lily had made a vow not to tell anyone about Severus spying for Dumbledore. But, then, she hadn't actually said anything about the spying. She'd only given away the fact that they weren't actually enemies…

It suddenly occurred to Harry what a monumentally idiotic idea it had been to make his mother swear an unbreakable vow. He had only been thinking of Severus at the time. He'd wanted to absolutely ensure his safety while still giving him back his friendship with Lily. But, if Lily made a mistake and broke the vow, enacting the curse, they'd all be royally fucked. Harry would never be born, Voldemort would rise to power, and Severus would more than likely end up dead anyway. Not to mention the complete subjugation of all muggles, and the deaths of Merlin only knew how many other people.

Images of dead butterflies momentarily clouded his vision.

"Perhaps," he said, "it would be safest to avoid that subject entirely."

Severus and Lily both nodded in solemn, terrified agreement.

oOoOoOo

Lily had stayed long enough to help them finish off the bottle of wine, which seemed to have been magically altered to hold more than the average number of glasses, and then had left with the same abruptness with which she had arrived, leaving Harry and Severus standing alone in the doorway with a sudden lack of distractions.

Harry was careful to maintain the distance between them as he moved away from the door and into the living area of the cottage, with Severus trailing behind.

They once more resumed their awkward stance before the sofa, warily eyeing one another.

"We should sleep," Harry said. "On the couch." He cleared his throat. "You should sleep on the couch. Well, you can transfigured it into a bed. I'll sleep in the bed. The other bed. In my room. In Peverell's room." Harry took in a deep breath. "Goodnight."

He turned and fled.

He could just feel Severus smirking behind his back as he closed the door behind him.

He stood there for a moment, breathing in shakily with his back to the door, and then he spin around and purposefully turned the lock.

He pulled his time-turner from beneath his shirt and got the hell out of there.

oOoOoOo

-April, 2006-

The floor seemed to lurch beneath his feet as it changed from carpet to stone and he lost his balance, stumbling for a moment, and banging into the tea table, before he righted himself.

"Are you still drunk, Potter?" came the question from the portrait.

"Well, it's your fault," Harry hissed as he rubbed at his shin where he'd barked it against the table.

"My fault?" Severus repeated with indignation. "While I freely admit that I encouraged full disclosure of our relationship to your friends. I am not responsible for Mr. Weasley's narrow-minded reaction. Nor am I in any way responsible for your penchant for seeking a bulwark against emotional distress in the bottom of the nearest liquor bottle."

"Not that." Harry waved a hand in the air, dismissing Ron's hang-ups as a problem for another day. "You kissed me."

"Ah," Severus' tirade was cut short, and he brought a hand up to brush fingertips over his painted lips: remembering. "Yes, I did. Though, as I recall, you did kiss back- rather more passionately than the culmination of a pleasant afternoon of sexual tension should have warranted. Which makes a great deal more sense now than it did at the time."

Harry snorted and flopped back into the couch cushions. "Yeah, more like the culmination of years of sexual tension." He sighed. "What the hell am I supposed to do? You might have mentioned this, you know."

"And run the risk of you changing events so that it never happened?" Severus asked. "No, I don't think so."

Harry groaned, pushing his glasses up to press the heels of his hands into his eyes. "How do I handle this?"

"I would have thought that you'd be overjoyed at the chance to finally have everything that you've wanted for so long." Harry thought that he could hear a twinge of jealousy in Severus' voice, and he let his hands fall into his lap to look at him through tired, blurry eyes.

"You think sex with a teenaged version of you is everything I want?" Harry asked. "If that were the case, I could have saved myself a lot of time."

"And what man wouldn't thrill at a chance to bed a younger version of his lover, particularly when he can't actually touch the current incarnation. As I recall it, I was offering more than just sex. Why not choose a relationship with a living man at the start of his life over a sham of one with the portrait of him after his death? You'd be a fool to choose me."

Harry settled his glasses back onto his nose and shook his head in disbelief. "For all the times you've called me a fool, you make it sound as though you've never believed it."

Severus scoffed.

"I made you a promise, Severus Snape. I swore that, whatever happens, I'll always come back. I'm not going to abandon the future to live in the past, and I'm not going to choose him over you."

"Haven't you figured it out yet," Severus asked. "You already have."

"I have not," Harry protested. "It was one kiss. I told you that it was a bad idea, that I had my reasons for not wanting to start anything, and you kissed me anyway. You did that. How can you possibly be upset? If you'd warned me, I would have made a point of locking the bedroom door, so you couldn't walk in on me sleeping before I'd taken my aging potion, but you didn't want to do that because it would deprive you of the past experience of, what? Fucking me? More than that? A summer romance with a man who lied to you about who he was? When did you realize that it was me? Did you figure it out before you died, or only after I started working on the time-turner?"

"Do you want me to answer any of that?" Severus asked.

"No," Harry said. "I guess not. I'm exhausted, and I've had too much wine. I'm going to bed. We have all day tomorrow to argue about this more."

Harry got up and went to his bedroom. He'd struggled out of his robes and climbed in under the covers before Severus appeared in the room, taking a seat on the edge of his own painted bed.

"I don't want to argue about this more tomorrow," he said, tone neutral. "I'm going to say what I have to say, and then I don't ever want to discuss it again. Your actions will be yours to choose." He paused a moment, but when Harry just looked at him, not saying anything, he continued.

"As easy as it is to talk about him in the third person and think of him as someone else, the truth is, we are the same person. His present is my past, and I am his future. I refuse to be jealous of myself. His current happinesses, few as they are, are my fond memories. So, for myself, I ask you not to choose. Have both. Take whatever you want from me in whatever form I am in. I do not begrudge you, or myself, anything. Even with the aid of a time-turner, time is always too short. You should take full advantage of whatever time you are granted."

"You make it all sound like a foregone conclusion. Like this is all there is, with no hope for more."

"I've been trying to convince you of that since the very beginning," Severus said. "For a time, I thought perhaps I was wrong, but I'm here. If you had been successful, I wouldn't exist."

Harry's heart sank. Severus was right of course, he'd let himself ignore all the evidence against him, but it seemed clear now just how blind he'd been, just how much he'd wanted to believe that maybe, just this once, everything would turn out right. But who was he kidding? Sure, he'd usually come out on the winning side, but there was always a price.

Harry didn't have the energy to worry about it now though. Today had been a rollercoaster, and he just wanted to sleep.

"Good night, Snape," he said.

"Sleep well, Potter," he responded, and Harry didn't miss the mocking tone applied to his surname.

He rolled over, burying his face in the pillows and sprawling into the soft comfort of his bed. He resolved to sleep and ponder on the rest of it tomorrow when his head was less muzzy.

oOoOoOo

When Harry awoke the following morning, Severus was gone from his portrait. He knew from years of experience that this was a sure sign that he would be spending the day avoiding Harry in the dungeons.

Fine then. If Severus didn't want to talk about any if it, he could just hide down in the dank like a snake.

Harry dressed and made his way down to breakfast, only to find Ron sitting in Neville's usual seat to the right of Harry's chair. Neville sat in wrapped conversation with Hermione in Ron's place at the table, and while they didn't pause in their discussion, Harry would have had to have been blind to miss the searching glances they sent his way.

Subtle, Harry thought wryly as he took his chair.

"Good morning, Ron," he ventured, gamely, as he helped himself to toast and sausages.

"Morning, Harry," he answered, then a long pause as Harry sensed him gearing up for a well rehearsed speech. "Look, I've been-"

"It's fine, Ron," Harry said, cutting him off. He was too preoccupied with Severus to bother going through this old song and dance."Let me save you the trouble. You're sorry for how you reacted. You don't approve. You wish that I could be happy in a conventional relationship, and you only have my best interests at heart. But, if I'm happy, you'll try to get used to the idea. You're still my best mate, and nothing is going to change that. Does that about sum it up?"

Ron was staring at him, obviously displeased at having his apology stolen out from under him, but he nodded. "I wouldn't have put it just like that, but that's the gist."

Harry sighed. "We're good, Ron, for now anyway. There's a bit more to it, and I doubt you'll like the rest any more than you approve of my choice of partner, but I don't have the energy to kick over that particular wasp's nest just now."

Ron frowned at him. "I'm not sure that I like vague hints either."

"Yeah, okay, noted," Harry said. "All the same, the rest will have to wait for another day. No offense meant, Ron, but I have more important things to worry about than your opinions on my sex life, just at the moment."

Ron grimaced at the thought. No matter how many years went by, he had never been completely comfortable with that aspect of Harry's life. Yet, for all of that, he had always tried to be supportive. As aggravating as it was, he deserved some credit for that at least.

Ron sighed. "I really am sorry, Harry. I wish that I could just be happy for you and leave it at that, but I can't help how I feel, and I can't pretend to understand."

"Yeah, I know."

"Just…" Ron paused. "No, nevermind. You know what I think. It's not going to do us any good to argue in circles. Tell me whatever else is going on when you're ready, and if you think I'll be angry about it, I probably will, but we've been friends for fifteen years. I know I've been a berk before about stuff, but I just can't help it sometimes. I've been trying."

"I know, Ron."

"I just don't get you sometimes. You're always at the center of everything,and I'm just trying to keep up. Then, when the dust settles and I think everything can go back to normal, it all starts up again. Even with the war over, you just seem intent on creating problems for yourself."

In light of the seeming futility of his efforts on Severus' behalf, Ron's words cut deep.

"Please," Harry said quietly. "Leave off for now."

And, for once, Ron did.

oOoOoOo

In keeping with Harry's expectations, Severus didn't show himself at all that day. Harry kept himself as occupied as he could with his work, but his thoughts kept straying to the problem of what to do with the young man sleeping on his couch in 1977.

He knew what he wanted to do, and he thought that he knew what he should do, but Severus' words from the night before left him uncertain. If Severus was right, then there was no hope of saving his life, though Harry was still resolved to try, and this may be his only chance to have a true relationship with the man he loved. The portrait had given his permission, even his encouragement, to do so. And yet, if Severus was wrong, if Harry could save his life, then pursuing a romantic relationship based upon a lie would do no good for either of them in the long run.

The day would come, and soon, when Harry had resolved to let time run its course. There was no way to really be certain about anything, but with the timeline tethered to his time-turner as it was, to allow his jumps back and forth, it seemed logical to assume that until he removed that tether everything would stay as it was. Once the tether was broken, any changes that he had made to the timeline would take effect. Until now, that idea had been his guiding light, but Severus' words echoed in his mind.

If you had been successful, I wouldn't exist.

For, Severus, it had all already happened. His memories meant that Harry had already changed the past, and Severus had still died.

Harry could hardly wrap his head around all the implications. He tried to puzzle it out, tried desperately to make sense of all the possible answers, but the more he mulled it over, the more circular his musings became. He just didn't know enough about how time worked to find answers to his questions.

Did the muggles have the right of it, in that there were infinite realities that diverged along separate paths each time that he made a decision?

If that were true, was it possible that he might succeed where other, alternate, versions of himself had failed?

If he did something differently than what Severus remembered, could he divert the course of time into one of those alternate paths?

Was there, even now, some other version of himself and Severus living together happily?

Was his portrait's past timeline different from the one he was trying to change, or was it the same?

If he did manage to be successful, where some alternate version of himself had not, would that actually change anything for him, or would he be saving an alternate version of Severus while the one he knew remained dead?

Harry knew that he was grasping at straws, but he couldn't help it.

More than that, the idea that Severus had known all along and hadn't told him, ate away at him.

He tried to tell you that it was hopeless, Harry chided himself, but you wouldn't listen.

And, well, wasn't that just him all over. Harry Potter: patron saint of lost causes and reckless plans.

Part of him wanted to end it now, release the tethered timeline and just see what happened, but he knew that he couldn't do that.

Regardless of whether there was any hope of saving his life or not, Harry had no choice but to continue now. He had changed too much already, he needed to stay with Severus until Voldemort's first defeat. He needed to make sure that, whatever else happened, Severus witnessed enough of the prophecy to report to Voldemort.

He had to make sure that Voldemort chose Harry as the child the prophecy foretold.

He had to make sure that Voldemort killed his parents.

Harry felt the bile rising at the back of his throat.

He looked at the clock and rubbed his eyes. It was time to go back, Severus hadn't made an appearance, and he still had no idea what he should do.

He glanced once more at the empty frame before he pulled the time-turner out.

oOoOoOo

-June, 1977-

Tired as he was, the knowledge that Severus was on the other side of his bedroom door kept Harry lying awake in his bed, though it had never bothered him before. Once he did fall asleep, it was fitful, and he awoke both later and less rested than he would have liked.

He could hear Severus moving around the cottage, and he took his time as he dressed, mulling over what he would say to him.

The smell of eggs and sausages greeted him as he left his bedroom, and he went into the kitchen where Severus was busy at work over the stove.

The tea service was already on the table, and Harry took a seat and helped himself to a cup of Severus' perfectly brewed tea. A moment later, a plate was set before him, and Severus took the seat across the table with his own breakfast.

Harry looked up then to see Severus smirking at him. "I think you look even worse than yesterday. You really can't hold your liquor, can you?"

"I don't recall any complaints when you barged into my bedroom,"Harry said with a smirk of his own, before he could remind himself that he wasn't supposed to be flirting.

"Too bad that I thought I'd accidentally walked in on Peverell's shockingly-young boyfriend after a night of Merlin-only-knows-what, and I was too shocked to really enjoy the view," Severus said. "Maybe I should invest in a pensieve instead of spending all my gold on a flat for the summer."

"Yes, no doubt Merlin had that purpose in mind when he invented them."

"Wouldn't put it past the dirty old bugger."

Harry snorted.6

"I should get going after breakfast," he said.

"Scotland," Severus confirmed. "You're going to see Dumbledore then?"

Harry nodded. He probably would visit Dumbledore for tea before returning as Peverell.

"When do you think you'll be back again?"

"I never said that I would be."

Severus scowled. "Surely, you'll be returning to visit your uncle at some point. Given the direction things were headed last night, you could let me know when you'll be around again."

"Given the direction things were headed last night, against my better judgment, it might be best for me to stay away."

"I told you, it doesn't have to be a date, I'd be happy being friends."

"Yes," Harry agreed, "you did say that, right before you kissed me."

"At which point, you initiated a second kiss, so pot/kettle. You're lucky Lily came by to harass me, since you're so intent on preserving your virtue. Who knows how far things might have escalated from there."

"It isn't my virtue that I'm worried about," Harry said, and enjoyed the blush it brought to Severus' pallid cheeks.

Severus cleared his throat and refused comment on Harry's insinuation. "Regardless of the obvious, mutual attraction, I did mean it. It's nice having someone around that I don't have to hide everything from."

"Oh, and are you hiding things from my uncle?" Harry asked.

"Someone my own age," Severus clarified.

Harry laughed at how complicated that statement really was, but it was clear that Severus thought that he was mocking him. Harry sobered, "And what if there are things that I have to keep from you?"

"I assumed as much."

"I'm not just talking about my involvement in the war with Voldemort. I have my own secrets that need to be kept: about my personal life. What if I have to outright lie to you? What if I told you that I already have? Do you still want to date me, knowing that? Do you still want to be my friend?"

Harry could tell that Severus was running through every conversation that they'd had yesterday, trying to decide which things Harry had been lying about, as his brow furrowed, but then he seemed to realize that Harry was still waiting on his answer, and he considered the question.

"I guess it would depend on what your motivation for lying was," he answered finally. "Although, if you're trying to take advantage of me, you're going about it entirely the wrong way."

"Not wanting to take advantage of you is exactly why any kind of relationship between the two of us would be such a bad idea."

"So, why are you lying to me then?"

Harry carefully considered before answering. "To protect the people that I love."

Severus smiled at him indulgently. "Did you forget who you're talking to? I'm spying on Voldemort for Dumbledore. How could you possibly think that I don't understand the need to lie to protect people? And now, you've told me, so you aren't taking advantage. Me spy. You liar," he said in a grunted, Tarzan voice. "Now, can we move past this and get to the part where you agree to have dinner with me next weekend? Saturday? I'll pick you up at seven."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Confident, aren't you?"

Severus shrugged. "Saturday at seven?" he persisted.

"Yes, fine," Harry agreed, more in sheer exasperation than because he gave the situation any real thought. And, beyond that, the truth was that he wanted to. He wanted to know what it would be like to be wooed by this ridiculously persistent, confident, and inexperienced younger version of the man he loved.

Based off the expression on Severus' face as he ate his breakfast, Harry may as well add smug to that list of descriptors.

oOoOoOo

-April, 2006-

"Okay, just say it," Harry snapped.

"Say what?" Severus asked, as though he hadn't been watching him in silent judgment for the last hour as Harry alternated between trying on and discarding clothes and attempting to get his hair to lie flat.

"Whatever it is you're thinking," Harry said, as he sprayed a bit of cologne inside the collar of his shirt.

"Each consecutive wardrobe change has been just a bit more revealing of your assets. I was just wondering how long it was going to take you to stop waffling and just change into your fuck-me-jeans."

"What?" Harry stopped playing with his hair and turned to look at Severus.

"Are you going to admit that this is a date yet?"

"It isn't."

"You don't spend this much time getting ready to go out with the Weasleys."

"Sometimes I do," Harry argued.

"Only when you're going out to the club and want to assure yourself that you still have sex appeal, and you usually seek my opinion then. It's a bit ironic that the one time you're dressing for me, you haven't asked for it."

Harry stopped fiddling with his hair and turned around, holding his arms out. "Okay, what do you think then?"

"I think that you should stop waffling, and put your fuck-me-jeans on with the tight black shirt."

"You think that your seventeen-year-old hormones can handle that?"

"I think it will be more fun for both of you to find out."

Harry regarded him for a long moment, and then turned and started taking off the black trousers and button-up that he was wearing.

"This still isn't a date."

"Of course not," Severus mocked, as he watched Harry undress with obvious enjoyment. "I can't quite explain how vindicating it is to witness this end of things."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he dug through the wardrobe clad only in his boxers now.

"Oh, it's just nice to know that you took even longer to get ready for our first date than I did."

"It isn't a date," Harry repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Your trousers say you're lying," Severus said, just as Harry was squeezing into the tight denim.

"You made me put these on," Harry defended.

"I'm two-dimensional, Potter. I can't make you do anything."

"Of course you can," Harry argued. "You do it all the time with your Slytherin willes."

"With how easy you look in those jeans, I doubt that young Severus will have much need to employ them."

oOoOoOo

-June 1977-

Harry laughed aloud when he saw The Spy Who Loved Me advertised on the marquee as they approached the theater.

Severus just smirked at him- that smug little smile that had been playing around his lips all evening, since Harry had answered the door dressed in the portrait's suggested wardrobe.

"That's a bit forward for a first date, don't you think?" Harry quipped before he realized what he was saying. He was just glad that the portrait wasn't there to hear him say it, until he realized that he was.

"Who doesn't like a good Bond flick?"Severus asked. "Given my current life situation, the campiness is very entertaining. Though, 007 seems to shag a lot more than I do."

"You haven't had to employ your seduction tactics for information yet?" Harry asked.

Severus sidled closer to whisper in his ear. "What do you think this is?"

oOoOoOo

Harry was surprised and, if he was honest with himself, a bit disappointed when Severus didn't try to put the moves on him in the dark of the cinema.

But, when he thought over their conversations throughout the evening, something occurred to him. Severus had been flirtatious throughout the night, but only when Harry had initiated the banter. Not once had Severus made a comment that could be misconstrued, save for in response to something that Harry had said.

If Harry truly wanted to draw the line at friendship, he only needed to stop making his own flirtatious overtures. Though, that seemed to be easier said than done. From Harry's perspective, they had been in a committed relationship for years, and flirtatious banter was the natural shape of their interaction. Even as Peverell, he had always found it easier to lightly tease and goad Severus than to maintain a less familiar relationship. As himself, he seemed incapable of not giving that teasing a sexual undertone.

Severus deliberately bumped against him as they walked.

"Stop being so quiet. I don't really think the antics of Roger Moore deserve that much quiet contemplation."

"Oh, I was just wondering how difficult it would be to put a shark tank in my office."

Severus chuckled, "And just who do you have that needs feeding to the sharks?"

"I have this portrait that thinks he's right about everything all the time. He could do with a dip every now and again."

"I'm not sure the sharks would help you out much with that one, " Severus said.

oOoOoOo

They stood at the door to the cottage, Harry about to thank Severus for the…. evening. Oh, quit kidding yourself Potter, it was a date.

But, Severus cut him off with, "I think I'll just kip on the couch again, if that's alright?"

Harry just nodded and let them in past the wards, unable to think of a reasonable reason to refuse him.

"Do you think your uncle is trying to set us up?" Severus asked, as Harry flicked his wand to light the candles in the dark room.

"What?" Harry looked at him, startled by the assertion.

Severus shrugged. "He must have left again just after you got here, right? Looks like he's given us the place to ourselves for the night. I figure he's trying to tell us something."

"Um," Harry faltered. "Well, I think he only spends the night here about half the time." That was true, technically.

"Ah, right," Severus said, " the mystery lover. Have you met him?"

"Yeah."

Severus nodded, brow furrowed. "I wish he'd introduce us. I'd be curious to see what he's like. I was starting to think he was imaginary. You know, like how all the fourth year girls suddenly have this American boyfriend that they met on holiday over the summer."

"No, he's real," Harry cocked his head, trying to think of a way to explain without explaining, and then shrugged. "It's just complicated."

Severus snorted. "The men in your family use that word a lot when they can't come up with a vaguely honest answer or a convincing lie."

Harry shrugged again and gave an enigmatic smile. "You knew what I was when you picked me up."

Severus huffed out a breath and shook his head. "You know, for a couple of fucking lions, you both have an awfully serpentine way of slithering your way out of conversations you don't want to have."

"You spy. Me liar," Harry reminded him. "I've warned you about what you're getting into. Don't start anything if it's going to be a problem."

Severus set his face and stalked forward the few steps between them until he was in Harry's space. "I never said that it was a problem," he hissed, and then he grabbed the back of Harry's neck and kissed him again.

Harry didn't return the kiss so much as he just pulled Severus against him in what was closer to a tight hug than a lover's embrace, and let Severus do what he wanted.

The kiss stretched on for long moments, Harry's heart hammering in his chest, until Severus tried to wiggle a hand between them where their erections were pressed tightly together, hips locked.

Harry sprang back, pushing Severus away from him, none too gently, and backed towards his bedroom. "Couch," he said once more, pointing at the furniture in question.

Severus chuckled, eyes crinkled with amusement. "Goodnight, Harry."

Goodnight," Harry agreed firmly, and locked his bedroom door behind him.

oOoOoOo

-July 1977-

Harry performed his new morning ritual of standing in front of his potion cabinet with his aging draught in his hand, and tried to convince himself to drink it.

Severus had been relentless in his pursuit of Harry. They'd been on a dozen "dates" that weren't dates, except how they were. More often than not, they ended with kisses that pushed Harry's boundaries of, as Severus tested the lines.

Harry had gradually allowed that control to slip, unable to completely lose his trepidation, but equally unable to hold back entirely when Severus was so close and so real.

He smiled to himself as he put the potion back in the cabinet and cast a locking charm.

Severus had returned late last night after another death eater dinner party, and he was still passed out on the couch when Harry left his bedroom. He hoped that Severus didn't have anything important to tell Peverell, but he undoubtedly would have woken him last night if there had been anything urgent to report to Dumbledore.

Harry walked past Severus and went out to fetch the milk from the stoop. When he returned, Severus was sitting up, blinking rapidly in a clear effort to convince himself that he was awake.

"Are you alive?" Harry asked- somewhere between concern and amusement.

Severus groaned. "Fuck Lucius Malfoy and his elf-made whiskey."

"Now who can't hold his alcohol?" Harry mocked.

Severus groaned. "Hangover potion, please?"

"You don't have one? I'll have to find Master Belby and tell him that his new apprentice has to beg for his potions from someone who nearly failed the subject."

Severus squinted up at him. "You almost failed potions? How do you fail potions? It's just following directions. If you want to invent or improve, there's more to it, but brewing is just reading the recipe and doing what it says. Any idiot can pass potions."

"I guess that I just had a bad professor," Harry said. "If I hadn't gotten a decent tutor sixth year, I never would have passed my NEWTS."

"You needed a tutor?" Severus asked incredulously.

"Oh, you must be enjoying that hangover then?" Harry asked.

Severus whimpered. "Please?"

Harry chuckled to himself, but went to his potions cabinet for the hangover draught.

Severus took the bottle from him with obvious relief, but then scowled as he squinted at the cramped writing on the label. "This is one of mine," he said in outrage. "Here I am throwing myself on my own sword for the cause, and you're taking the piss. Then, after all that, you bring my own damn potion?"

Harry shrugged.

Severus downed the bottle, glaring daggers at him all the while, and then set it aside to grab the front of Harry's robes and pull him down for a punishing kiss.

Harry straightened, pulling a disgusted face. "Whatever is in that stuff makes your breath taste like arse."

"Whatever is… you really are bad at potions aren't you?" he paused for a moment and then smirked. "Arse licker," he said with a snigger.

"Now, now, Mister Snape," Harry said in his best scolding professor voice. "A virtuous young man, such as yourself, shouldn't be entertaining such prurient thoughts." Severus made another grab for him, but Harry danced back out of reach this time.

"If you weren't such a cock-tease, I could try out some prurient actions instead," Severus called after him as he continued his backward momentum into the kitchen to start the kettle.

oOoOoOo

"Is Harry going to be back anytime soon?" Severus asked. He'd been picking disconsolately at his breakfast since he'd sat down at the table that morning.

"I'm sure," Peverell said. "I very much doubt that he's gone far. You can't be so dissatisfied with my company that it's putting you off your food though. Stop molesting those sausages and eat them already."

Severus rolled his eyes at the old man, but did finally take a bite of the sausage that he'd been rolling from one end of his plate to the other with the tines of his fork.

"Are you two fighting or something?" Severus asked, after he'd swallowed his sausage.

"No," Peverell answered, drawing the word out, "Why do you ask?"

"Is there some reason that you can't stand being in the same room with each other then?"

"What makes you think that?" Harry asked, not at all relishing the direction that this conversation was heading.

"You're never here when Harry is around," Severus answered. "Where do you go, anyway? He thought that maybe you were giving us time alone because you were trying to get us together."

Oh, right, I was the one that suggested that, Harry thought. Slimy Slytherin. "Aren't you already then?" he asked, innocently, knowing the question would aggravate Severus.

"More or less," Severus grumbled.

"Well, no doubt you appreciate the privacy then." Harry said. "Now, kindly stop prying into my personal life. I don't need to account all of my hours to you."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Did you want me to go? I told Harry that this cottage isn't big enough for three people, or two even- considering both of you are never here at the same time. If you're feeling crowded, I can start sleeping at home again. I doubt my father would even notice, since he usually stumbles back from the pub after I'm asleep and he's out cold when I wake up."

"No, of course not," Harry said. "I'd much prefer that you stay here for the summer."

"Okay, then," Severus said, still sounding uncertain of his welcome. "Are we working on something today?"

"Albus needs polyjuice for the order," Harry invented. "I told him that it was well within your skills. You can start the base for that, and I'll go to the apothecary for the ingredients that we don't have on hand."

oOoOoOo

-August 1977-

Harry had begun the day as himself, hoping to enjoy a lazy afternoon with Severus, and maybe go out for dinner in the evening, but Severus had been nowhere to be found all day. By noon, he'd begun to worry, and had even gone to Spinner's End to see if Severus might have gone there for some reason. He'd earned an unpleasant conversation with Tobias Snape for his troubles, but still had no idea where Severus had gone. He tried Lily's house as well, but found no one at home.

His imagination was working overtime to come up with all the horrible things that could have befallen him, most involving death eaters and unforgiveables, and Harry was about to take an aging potion to visit Dumbledore, when Severus finally walked into the cottage.

"Where have you been all day?" Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he looked Severus over for any signs of damage.

"I went to London, ran into Narcissa at the apothecary, and we had lunch." Severus answered. "I wasn't expecting you back for a few days." He seemed almost unhappy to see Harry, but he set his packagess down on the table, and walked over to give him a brief kiss before turning his back on him to rifle through his bags.

Harry watched him, feeling a little miffed. Severus had never been so unenthusiastic about seeing him before, and he had never given Harry such a chaste kiss.

"Is something the matter?" Harry asked. "You don't seem like yourself today."

Severus looked up from the books he'd been removing from their wrapping. "Hmm? Oh, no, everything is fine."

Harry placed a hand over his forehead, frowning. "You don't feel ill."

Severus brushed him off. "I'm not ill."

"Okay," Harry said, and took a step back. Severus was clearly in a bad mood, but whatever was bothering him, he obviously didn't want to discuss it, and pushing the matter would only make him angry.

"So, I was thinking we could maybe go out tonight," he ventured instead.

"I'd rather stay in," Severus said. " I can cook dinner, if you want."

"We can cook together."

"Yeah, alright," Severus said. "Why don't you run to the shop and pick something up. I think the cupboard is pretty bare."

"Sure," Harry said, uncertainly, since they had plenty of food stocked, and Severus knew it. "Wouldn't you rather come with me, though?"

"I have a potion to brew," Severus said.

Severus was being cagey. He obviously wanted Harry out of the house for a while, and Harry wanted to know why.

"What are you making?" Harry asked. "Maybe I can help." He reached for the bag from the apothecary to see what Severus had purchased, but Severus snatched the bag up first and held it to his chest.

"It's,,," Severus faltered. "The ingredients are light-sensitive."

"Light-sensitive," Harry repeated. "And which potion are you brewing that requires these light-sensitive ingredients?"

"It's experimental," Severus answered.

"Right," Harry said, skeptically. "I'll just go to the market then, while you brew your super-secret potion." He paused at the door to add. "I hope you're better than that at lying to Voldemort," and left before Severus could reply.

oOoOoOo

When Harry returned from the market, Severus was in the kitchen, ladling some kind of iridescent purple gloop from a small cauldron on the stove into glass jars, and the whole cottage smelled like a fruit seller's stand.

"Are you going to tell me what that is, now?" Harry asked as he set down his shopping bags.

"I already told you," Severus said. "It's experimental."

"I assume that this experiment has some intended use. Or are you down to just mixing random ingredients to see what happens?"

"It's a friction nullifying agent," Severus said.

Harry frowned for a moment, puzzling that out. "Lube! You're making lube in my kitchen," Harry's startled disapproval made his voice sound a bit too much like Peverell's.

"It's strawberry scented."

"Yes, I imagine that they can smell it halfway down the street."

"I may have underestimated the potency of the extracts. This is just the first batch."

Harry looked over the row of jars that Severus had filled on the counter. "How much of that stuff do you need?"

Severus raised an eyebrow and Harry flushed.

"Forget I asked."

"I was rather hoping we could use it together," Severus said, not meeting Harry's eyes.

Harry froze. Severus had never stated his desires to move their relationship to a more intimate level so blatantly before, and Harry wasn't sure how to respond.

Severus risked a glance to gauge his reaction and looked back down at his cauldron. "It's just, well… I'll be going back to school in a few weeks."

"Yes," Harry agreed.

Severus' head snapped up to look at Harry and there was anger burning in his dark eyes. "You've been jerking me around all summer."

"But not jerking you off?" Harry concluded.

"What's going on here, Eckles?" Severus demanded. "What are we doing? Are we lovers, or are we friends? Because, I don't usually snog my friends, but the blue balls I've had for two months say we sure as bloody hell aren't lovers."

The use of the false name stabbed at him in a way that Severus couldn't understand, and his words held enough truth to make Harry feel guilty. This compromise that Harry had made with himself, to let Severus close but not too close, was worse than either leaving him alone completely or giving into what he really wanted. The fact that Severus had to be the one to lay it all out for him, to tell Harry to make a decision one way or the other, was shaming.

"You're right," Harry said quietly. "I haven't been fair to you."

"Then make it up to me,"Severus challenged.

And then, Severus was in his arms once again, and this time Harry held nothing back.

He took what he wanted.

What he'd wanted so desperately with his whole being, since he had been a sixteen-year-old boy madly in love with The Half-Blood Prince.

He plundered Severus' mouth, gripping a handful of that narrow arse, as he ground against him, and they both panted with the sudden glorious release of so much pent up sexual tension.

If Severus thought that two months was bad, he had nothing on Harry. Don't talk to Harry about blue balls.

Harry broke the kiss long enough to latch onto a spot just above his clavicle that made Severus shudder and gasp as Harry worked it over.

"You… I… It's…" Severus mumbled incoherently as he rocked into Harry, and then he moaned.

He was languid under Harry's touch, a quivering jelly, as Harry ducked and nipped at his neck, snaking one hand up under the hem of his shirt to run it over the warm, smooth skin of Severus' back.

"More. It's… Please?" Severus whimpered.

Harry let go his grip on Severus' arse to put the hand to better use loosening the flies of their jeans.

He reached behind Severus and fumbled at the counter for the jar of lube that Severus had yet to cap and took a dollop onto his fingers, still warm, before taking both of their erections in hand. He gripped them loosely as they rocked together, and Severus mumbled nonsense, and Harry thought of nothing save for how right it felt to succumb at last.

Severus came in a frenzy of jerking thrusts that brought Harry off right after him, and they just clutched each other, panting, and only staying upright by each using the other for support.

Harry managed the energy to tilt his head from where he had let it slump against Severus' shoulder and stared up in dumbstruck awe into Severus' blown pupils and lax features.

Once they'd caught their breath and righted themselves, Harry said, "Was that better?"

"It's a start," Severus said, a quirk to his lips. "I admit that it wasn't exactly the purpose that I had in mind when I made the lube."

"Your friction nullifying agent was meant bigger and better things then?" Harry asked.

"It's just lucky for you that I made a big batch. Although," Severus drew the word out, "I had intended to test it a bit less intimately before using it. I wasn't lying when I said that it was experimental."

"Oh," Harry suddenly became very aware of his oversensitized clock, trying to decide if he felt any burning or ill effects. He shrugged. "It seems to be okay."

"I certainly hope so. It would put quite the damper on the evening if we both suddenly break out in boils."

Harry shuddered, and then he started laughing, softly at first but building into a near hysterical belly laugh when he just couldn't contain his mirth. Severus was helpless to hold in a few chuckles of his own in the face of it, as he regarded Harry with a bemused expression.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, catching his breath. "If you had any idea…" He choked on a laugh again. "With the number of spanners thrown into the works of my sex life, the boils would be worth it." Harry smiled and pulled Severus to him, clutching against his back and shuddering into his shoulder with residual laughter.

I love you. I love you. I love you. If Severus had used legilimency on him at that moment, he would have found the words repeated as a mantra, but Harry didn't give them voice.

"Maybe we should make dinner before trying anything else, just in case," Severus suggested. "That may have been worth a few boils, but I'd rather not compound the problem."

oOoOoOo

They had tidied away the remains of Severus' brewing, and worked together in the kitchen- spending as much time getting distracted by one another as they did actually preparing a meal.

"No boils?" Harry asked, after they had eaten and the dishes were washing themselves in the sink.

"I think that's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me," Severus deadpanned.

"I try," Harry said with a little shrug.

"Would you just fuck me already?"

"Is that what you want?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Severus' answer held no hesitation.

He'd spent more time imagining sex with Severus than he'd ever spent thinking about anything else, but in all of his fantasy scenarios it had always been the other way around- Severus taking him over the worktable in the potions lab, or the headmaster's desk, against the wall in the shower, or the prefect's bathroom. But, Severus had told him this was how it had been, or would be, if he had only understood at the time.

And, maybe that was okay. Their dynamics had changed. As ridiculous as it seemed, here he was, the more experienced party. He could lead their first dance.

Harry grabbed a full jar of Severus' strawberry-scented friction nullifying agent, and reached out for his hand to pull him along to the bedroom.

With numerous exploratory detours along the way, Harry was achingly hard by the time that they managed to undress each other. Severus lay back against the pillows, too aroused to be nervous as Harry sucked his way down his chest, lazy fingers trailing teasingly along the inside of his thigh.

Severus moaned and tried to thrust into Harry's hip, but Harry held him still.

"I know that you haven't done this before."

"I have," Severus denied, somehow still managing to blush with all his blood flow diverted to the erection struggling to find something to thrust against.

"We really need to work on your lying," Harry said. "You're going to get yourself killed with a poker face like that."

Severus looked away, arching back up to fight the restraining hand on his hip. "Maybe I just can't lie to you."

"You'll have to work on your plausible deniability at least then."

"Less talking. More sex."

Harry bit back a laugh. Considering his entire sex life had been built around talking for the last five years, he could appreciate the sentiment.

"Fine, but if something feels wrong, or you want me to stop, or slow down, you tell me."

"What if I want you to speed up?" Severus asked, thrusting up again to illustrate his point.

"Then, I won't make you ask again."

He leaned over Severus to distract his poorly disguised nervousness with kisses as he spread the lube over his fingers.

Severus gasped as Harry ringed his hole with one slicked finger, and sucked in the next breath as Harry pushed it into the opening. The steady, determined breathing turned to little means and whimpers as Harry's finger delved deeper, working him open with circling motions and shallow thrusts.

He may not have imagined it like this, but Harry was enthralled by the sight of Severus beneath him- head thrown back against the pillows, eyes closed, his neck a taught arch as his Adam's apple bobbed with each exhaled moan and intake of breath.

He was thrusting back against Harry's hand by the time he added a second finger. Harry worked them in and out a few more times, letting Severus accommodate the stretch before he found a rhythm of scissoring and cooking his fingers that brought Severus back to a stage of quivering and incoherent mumbling.

Harry wanted him now, but forced himself to wait, sliding a third finger in beside the others. He was glad he did as he felt Severus clench tight again around the additional waited until he felt the muscles relax, and patiently stretched him wider until Severus was once more meeting his thrusts.

Severus' eyes flew open as Harry pulled his fingers away.

He was liberal in his application of Severus' lube to his erection, trying not to stroke himself more than strictly necessary, even as Severus watched with hungry eyes.

They'd done enough of that already, as far as Harry was concerned.

"Turn over for me." Harry said, grabbing his hips to help flip him over when he didn't hurry to comply as quickly as Harry would have liked. When he was on all fours, Harry pulled Severus' hips back tight to meet his, sliding his cock along the line of Severus' cleft to leave a smear of precum at the small of his back. Harry ran his thumb through it, spreading it out, and leaned forward to blow a breath over the spot.

Severus shivered in response, and Harry leaned over his back as far as he could to place a gentle kiss on the blade of his shoulder. "This will be easier the first time," he whispered, "but next time, I want to watch your face while you come for me."

The words elicited the desired effect, as Severus shuddered and voiced a breathy moan as he let his head fall forward, shielding what Harry had been able to make out of his profile behind a curtain of dark hair. Harry took some satisfaction in that. If there was one thing he'd learned from dating Severus' portrait, it was just what to say to leave him moaning.

Harry mapped the expanse of Severus' pale skin with his palms as he ran them along his back. He'd been so touch-starved for so long, that he thought he'd never get enough of just this.

But, there was more here on offer.

He continued his way to the twin globes of Severus' arse, kneading them in his hands a few times before spreading them apart and lining himself up to sink ever so slowly into that tight warmth between them.

Severus took a jagged intake of breath and Harry held himself still, waiting on the edge of control, until he felt Severus relax.

He forced himself to start slow, when every nerve in his body was jangling at him and he itched to thrust in deep and hard, claiming in this final way the man that was his.

It wasn't long before Severus had relaxed, and Harry just rocked their hips together at first, waiting for the sounds of Severus' obvious pleasure before he pulled out enough to make a few shallow, experimental thrusts of his hips.

That brought the incoherent mumbling back, and Harry grinned as he found their rhythm-slow and gentle at first as he kept a tight rein on his own arousal to make sure that Severus fully enjoyed his first time.

By the time Harry lost that edge of control, Severus was too far gone to care, and Harry was no longer aware of anything save the feel of his cock pounding in and out of his shuddering body.

Severus came and slumped into the bed beneath him, and Harry rode him down with a few final deep thrusts of his hips as he pulsed his own orgasm into him- filling him.

He collapsed onto Severus, limp and boneless, trying to catch his breath and enjoying the way that Severus' slick hole clenched and released around his softening cock.

When enough blood had returned to his brain to form coherent thought, Harry pulled out and rolled off to his side next to Severus in the bed. He drew Severus into his arms and buried his face in his sweat-tangled hair as they both rode out the aftershocks of their orgasms.

Harry felt amazed by how lucky he was to be given this moment in time, and incredibly foolish to have denied himself this for so many weeks.

Here he was in the summer of '77, wrapped in a post-coital embrace with Severus Snape, and he couldn't image a moment in any timeline finer than this one.

Severus pulled away from Harry enough to turn onto his side to face him, and Harry took advantage of their new position to give him a soft, slow kiss.

When Harry pulled away, Severus said, "that was worth waiting for."

"You have no idea," Harry said, "but, I don't mean to wait long to do it again

"Yes, well, you should know that, since you insisted on being stubborn and holding out on me until the summer was nearly over, I don't intend to let you leave this bedroom for the next three weeks. And, you can just tell your uncle that if he can't stand to be in the same room with both of us at the same time, then he can stay away with his lover while I have mine. I can report to Dumbledore as easily as he can."

And, that seemed a perfectly wonderful idea to Harry.

He'd taken to keeping his time-turner warded in his potions cabinet, and there it remained while he gloried in three wondrous weeks of uninterrupted time with the man he loved.

Author's Note: Life got busy on me again, and this chapter was a difficult one to write for some reason. Hopefully, it turned out okay, let me know what you think.