Chapter Twenty-Five: Things aren't always as they seem
Harry awoke next to Severus, who was sleeping soundly for a change. Harry silently rolled onto his side, looking at him as he breathed heavily.
He looked stern, but he wasn't frowning. There was the usual greyness underneath his eyes. Wrinkles at the bridge of his nose, and atop his brows. If it had been anyone else looking at him, they would probably think Severus Snape looked glum. Harry knew otherwise—actually, the man hasn't looked this peaceful while sleeping—at least, not to Harry's knowledge.
It's hard to believe how much we know about each other now…Harry pondered. It had only been a short week since the end of the year celebration, when Severus was awarded for his effort during the war.
Harry smiled to himself. It seems like so long ago. He looked back at Severus.
Harry took in the sharpness, the distinctiveness, of Severus' features. He studied the way his long raven hair draped over his cheek, and the contours of his pale skinned face. His cheeks weren't sallow—although, Harry had always assumed Snape was unhealthy, judging the pale color of his skin. Perhaps he was just as stressed during the war as I was. Harry recalled that even he was pale most of the time for the last six or seven years. Everyone was either trying to kill him, question him, or kiss him. Dear Merlin, I hated that. Still hate it, actually.
It had actually been painful to look at Ginny during that last speech at the Great Hall.
But now he didn't have to worry about that—not in this moment, at least. He wanted to focus on the here and now—not worrying about any girls, and definitely worrying not about any Dark Wizards trying to kill him.
Harry felt himself touch his own nose as he looked at the large one on Severus. It was so different than his own, but not in a bad way at all. Every feature about Severus made him unique and special, Harry thought. But the man has so many secrets…it's going to be difficult to get to know more about him.
He remembered when he and his friends would poke fun at their Potions Professor, and how horrid he looked. Harry realized, after developing feelings for the older man, that he was truly beautiful. He just hadn't looked close enough before—he just wanted another reason to dislike him. After all, Severus admitted that Harry reminded him of James at first. We were both so wrong about each other…
Harry pinched his eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath. He was glad those days were over.
Now, he saw his partner at his side. His lover. His friend, companion, and his almost-bonded-mate.
He smiled to himself as Severus rolled over, grunting softly.
Harry continued to smile as he scooted closer, wrapping an arm and leg loosely around Severus. He nuzzled his face against his neck, burying his nose in his strawberry-scented hair. Of course, it only smells that way to Harry due to their bond. He's mine, he thought, just before sleep took him once more.
~~HP/SS~~
Severus woke up to a gentle snore at his back. Potter.
He felt Harry's possessiveness by the way Harry was holding him. One arm and one leg draped over his body, with soft breathing at the nape of his neck.
In this rare moment, Severus didn't hold back his grin. No one could see it, anyway.
Harry…he thought, carefully grazing his arm, leaving a light trail of kisses down his limb. He took a deep whiff of Harry's body odor—so calming, like waves rippling in the Atlantic.
~~HP/SS~~