Harry's eyes snapped open as he rolled over and crushed against something warm. Someone exhaled a nonchalant grunt and Harry looked up to see Snape giving him a disapproving glare before closing his eyes again. The darkness of the room was only interrupted by the fading moonlight, now slowly retreating behind a cloud. He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand; three after midnight. What woke him up?
"S'ry," mumbled Harry. He tried to drift again to sleep, but as the seconds went by he felt more and more awaken. He gently pushed Snape's arm, making sure he was still awake. "When the war is over," he murmured, "I'm going to buy you a huge house –" Snape pushed him away and Harry stretched, "and I'll constantly bother you. Can you imagine me ringing your bell every day?" Harry rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses. Outside the window, the dark sky seemed almost unreal.
A faint smile appeared on Snape's lips and he took a deep breath as though silently accepting that this was all the sleep he would get for tonight. Snape yawned and fixed his pillow.
"Or we could live together and you'd still pretend you hate me. You'd say how much I irritate you and that I'm insolent and stuff. And in the end of the day –"
"Were you dreaming about this imbecility or are you experiencing a delirium?" Snape said hoarsely.
"I think I was dreaming about it," Harry said honestly. "Among other things. Like, what I'm going to do once Voldemort is gone. What you're going to do."
"Very thoughtful. You might not know that, but romanticism is my secret kink. I'm now touched. Thank you."
Harry chuckled. "Fuck off. You need to believe it, you know. That we're going to kill him. He can't stay alive for ever."
"He came back from the dead once," Snape responded calmly.
"You're a pessimist."
"And you're young."
"I'm young," Harry confirmed confidently and yawned again. "And I'm going to use all my magic to kill him if I have to."
Snape's lip quirked upwards at the mention of magic.
"What?"
It seemed like he wasn't going to respond, but he did. "When I was young, I had a passion for wild magic. My mother was studying dark spells secretly and I was trying to repeat the wand motions of her books with my bare hand."
"You ever made it?" Harry sat cross-legged, suddenly interested in what Snape had to say.
"Once. Half the house was burned. Tobias was furious. He blamed my mother."
Harry tried to keep back his curiosity but it was stronger than him. "How did she die?" As soon as he asked it, he realised it was a stupid question, and he thought that if he should have known better than scratching old wounds.
"It doesn't matter."
Harry wrinkled his nose after a moment. "I'm sorry."
"Certainly." Snape looked at the ceiling again and Harry felt the urge to direct the subject elsewhere.
"When I was six," he recalled, "I punched my cousin in the face. He was chasing me in the backyard with his friends and I was trying to run away. Then, at some point, I couldn't stand it anymore so I just stopped still, turned and punched him. He flew all the way back to the backdoor and he crashed against it. He cries were so loud." He chuckled at the memory. "Aunt Petunia wasn't happy. I didn't know how I had done it, so I told her maybe I had super powers. You should have seen her face."
To his surprise, Snape did laugh at that. He reached for his wand and casted Lumos. Harry took Snape's wand from his hands and held it between the two of them.
"How is she?" Snape asked at last. "Last time I saw her she was thoroughly unhappy with her existence."
Says the overjoyed man, Harry thought of saying, but decided against it. "That's her," he agreed. "She's happy when Dudley gets good grades, though. Oh, and when Uncle Vernon lets her be. I don't think they even like each other anymore."
Snape nodded, suddenly lost in some thought or memory that had completely sucked him in. Harry grinned, as he recalled something spicy. "Two years ago I caught her having sex," he stated simply.
Snape raised his brows warningly but Harry could see that he was struggling to remain serious. "With that fat beast?" Snape blurted out and Harry grinned wider. Snape never struck him as a gossiper.
"Yeah. I didn't see them but I heard them when I got up to take a piss. I was traumatised for a week."
"I imagine so," Snape said carefully after a moment. Then, "She was quite promiscuous back in the day."
Harry goggled his eyes and Snape smiled. "Who? Aunt Petunia?" He pointed the lightened wand on Snape's face to make sure he wasn't joking.
"Yes. She wasn't the magical one. She had to find other ways to be congenial."
And suddenly there was more tension between them than Harry had expected. The memory of his mother was almost visible, sitting on the bed with them. It occurred to Harry that Snape was holding his breath. Regretting having said that. And what did the magical one do?
Harry took a deep breath, determined to not let the moment ruin itself in the hands of Snape. "So what, you mean she had boyfriends and such? Because she goes to church every Sunday and blames TV for the corruption of young people all day long, not to mention she hates the neighbour's daughter for wearing dresses."
"Is that so."
"Her name's Linda. And I once got the impression that Dudley likes her, which of course makes aunt Petunia hate her even more. She wouldn't want Dudley to be around, you know, this kind of girls."
Snape smirked mischievously. "If I tell you a story," he drawled, "you must promise me, and I mean it, Potter, I'll know if you're lying – that you will never speak a word of it."
Harry nodded and was suddenly deadly curious. "What story?"
"Your word, boy."
"You have my word, Professor. It's a deal."
Snape ignored his mockery and began. "I was fourteen, she was sixteen. It was summer. I was going over to the Evans house for lunch and –"
"They used to invite you for lunch? My grandparents?" He hadn't thought that his grandparents knew Snape, but it did make sense come to think of it. Yet he always thought they didn't want his mum to be friends with him.
"Don't interrupt me, Potter. Yes, I was invited, and as soon as we sat down to eat we realised Petunia was as usually late."
"You've got to tell me everything you know about my grandparents right after," said Harry impatiently.
"I told you to not interrupt me," Snape warned, his tone far from convincing. "So. As I was saying. Lily sent me to bring her back because she knew it would piss Petunia off to have me scold her. And it also pleased Lily a great deal." Harry snorted and Snape smiled. "I went out looking for her but she was nowhere to be seen. I looked everywhere but at the treehouse, which I thought of lastly. She was there."
Snape made a pause and Harry suspected that he wanted to add suspense to the moment, but restrained himself from interrupting again.
"She was with a boy. Pleasing him."
Harry's jaw dropped and he felt his grin slowly fall to a paining grimace. He tried very hard not to gag in protest. The very image was not coping well with his mind. He had never thought aunt Petunia capable of – anything like that.
"You're not serious. No, you're joking." He directed the wand light away from his face to hide his blushing. "And what did you do?" He asked breathlessly.
Snape smirked. "What could I do? I never told anyone, but I kept proposing to her to come and play with me at the treehouse every time I'd see her alone. The blush of shame on her face was all I needed to satisfy my sick amusement. This kept her from talking Lily into breaking our friendship for the best part of my adolescence."
"You're evil!" choked Harry in between an impulse to retch and another impulse to break into spasmodic laughter. "What the – GAH! Why did you tell me that?"
Snape shrugged his shoulders innocently. "You asked."
"Of all the things you could have told – no. Just no. You're sick. No. Ghhh." Harry shook his head in an attempt to shoo the mental image away.
Snape snorted and Harry raised up a hand. "Just – don't tell me anything like this again. Ever."
The faked innocence hadn't been wiped off Snape's face yet. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You mean you don't want to know about what she did with the cinema usher when she was seventeen?"
"NO!" Harry covered his face in an attempt to block out the world. He felt his cheeks heating up. "If you're so keen to talk about people's romances why don't you tell me about you, instead? I mean after, you know," he added quickly.
Snape took a deep breath. "I've had a matchmaking once. It was Lucius' idea and it would have been suspicious of me to refuse the date. She was rich. Black hair, elegant posture, twenty something back then. We stopped seeing each other when I couldn't stand her anymore. She was the stupidest woman I've had ever met."
Harry raised his brows. "What, that was all? Where are your dirty details?"
"Where they are supposed to be boy, away from your curiosity. Now, if you don't mind, if I have entertained you enough I would really like to go back to sleep."
"Yes," hissed Harry as Snape turned on his side away from him. "And thanks for sharing my aunt's adventures with me," he said sarcastically. "I'm sure I'm going to have amazing dreams thanks to you."
"I aim to please. Nox."
It was after long time, and Harry had almost drifted to sleep under the blanket, when he remembered to talk again.
"Severus," he whispered. Snape was probably already dangerously close to unconsciousness when he sighed in acknowledgement. "I love you."
Snape didn't answer immediately. "But not enough to let me sleep."
"I'm sorry."
"Hm."
"Your books."
Severus handed him the textbooks for his seventh year knowing too well that he wasn't going to need them. Harry accepted them and opened a random one to take a look.
"I'm not going to take Arithmancy," Harry complained. "Wait, you bought those yourself? You didn't have to."
"The Headmaster bought them," Severus lied. "Unless you thought I'd waste more of my time to satisfy your needs."
Harry rolled his eyes and Severus felt a familiar anger building up inside him. He couldn't even insult Harry anymore. He had become useless. It occurred to Severus that the despair with which Harry was examining his new books was fairly true to the level of education Harry had received over the years. The boy's culture was defective by all means. Non-existent, perhaps. A mind whose doors had been closed shut because of stubbornness and bad luck.
After a minute Harry threw the books in his trunk and Severus took his wand out of his robes.
"You still need to tell me about my grandparents," said Harry.
Severus made an effort to not cover his face with a hand at the memory of how much he had exposed his past to Harry last night. Years of secrecy and vigilance had been erased by a mere night of weakness. At the curious look that was now piercing him, Severus barely managed to scowl. He did make however a mental note to never allow himself have any kind or personal discussion with Harry bloody Potter again.
"They were Muggles," Severus simply said.
"I didn't ask that."
"Get up. We'll practice."
"How did they die? Why no one has ever told me anything about them?"
"Enough, Potter. Up."
Harry stood, although annoyed. He should teach the boy how to hide his emotions after all. Although he had a feeling that he'd fail miserably.
"You said you'd tell me. What changed now?"
And even after all their interaction, Harry was still trusting him to tell the truth. It was hard not to laugh. But not impossible. "I am pretty sure I would have said anything in order to have my quietness back. When an oppressive teenager pokes and kicks at me at four after midnight and develops a sudden impulse towards small talk I believe it is reasonable for me to lie." He made a small pause to observe Harry's features and was glad to see the embarrassment beginning to show. "Now I can simply inform you that I'm not planning to become your story teller so you'd better drop it. Ready?"
Harry dragged his feet to the middle of the room boringly. He dared be bored at Severus' effort to teach him. Not even trying to hide it anymore. On second thought, when had he?
"My theory is still valid after all, you know."
"What theory?" croaked Severus before he could help it.
Harry smiled. "You're far more cooperative in bed."
Severus was shocked for the space of a heartbeat; then, "Legilimens!"
"They weren't exactly normal," Severus heard himself saying after they had eaten their sandwiches. The kitchen table was rather small, and Severus couldn't help but think that this place had been made for dwarves. "They treated wizards with too much enthusiasm, even with lowliness sometimes."
Were he eating with anyone else, he would have made a point of those terrible table manners as Harry dropped his fork and pushed his plate aside to concentrate on Severus. Right now, he was so taken aback by his own desire to talk that he didn't have a mind to mention anything else. All the reasons he shouldn't be saying any of these things to the Golden Boy remained visible before him. He had, however, already began.
"They learned that Lily was a witch very early…" It was the wrong moment to do so, and he feared that if Harry interrupted him now Severus would have to leave. The distant part of himself that looked at him with damning eyes and warned that speaking to a Potter about his beloved Lily was the ultimate act of disrespect faded under the intensity of Harry's own eyes waiting for more. "I was the one who proved it to them. She thought they didn't believe her, so I showed them. Our wild magic was so easy for us to summon that soon enough a later came to her home to sooth down her parents and explain to them the situation."
They were nice memories, but Severus had little faith to nostalgia. It brought to the surface parts of himself that were easy to break. Already broken, maybe. "Petunia wanted to be like us. I was poor and unwanted, so she couldn't understand why I had a gift she didn't have. She grew jealous of Lily over the years, although she was smarter than that."
"What do you mean?" Harry said doubtfully.
"Petunia was determined. She liked rules, control. Lily, instead, was wild. She knew no boundaries. She wanted to break her limits whenever she touched them. The worst thing for her was when she wasn't allowed to do something she could. It was maddening her. That's why she was good at Potions." And because she was using Severus' notes most of the times. But that needn't be told.
"Did they like you?"
Severus smiled sadly at a particular memory of Lily's mother telling him that Lily used to talk about him all the time when she was home. "I was their daughter's best friend. I suppose they had to. But they did like my family or my magic. When we came back from our first year at Hogwarts we spent a whole night telling them everything we had been taught. They were mesmerised. All their lives they thought magic didn't exist, and they were suddenly part of it. They were…" stupidly proud of something they'd never do themselves, "…happy."
Harry nodded. "How did they die?"
"I don't know. I – Lily and I weren't talking anymore when it happened."
"Oh." Harry's gaze fell on the table for a second. So you don't know at all?"
How could he? He was a Death Eater. He could have killed them himself if he was ordered to. "I'm afraid not."
"They liked my mum more, didn't they?"
They liked her power. To their eyes, they had given birth to a miracle. A demigod. Petunia was ordinary. Severus knew that, and their parents knew it too. Ordinary children were doomed to suffer, with or without magic blood in the family. It was a dichotomy between "equally loving all children" and secretly having a favourite one. What the Evans were missing, was that such secrets never remain hidden. It was instinct itself that would make the truth clear. Petunia knew it. They never told, they most likely never admitted it to themselves, but at the disdain and the hatred on Petunia's teenage face it was written clearly: the family loved one of them more. And it wasn't Petunia.
Severus didn't need a sibling to not be the favourite in his own family.
"Were you three the only children in the neighbourhood?"
"I never befriended Muggles willingly, and especially back then I couldn't see why I would want to waste my time on them." As far as Severus could remember, he never spoke to anyone but Lily. There were others, but they were Muggles, and anyway they didn't like Severus much. The pathetic eagerness to belong which he suffered from in a younger age had led him once to desire the other boys' company in his neighbourhood before Hogwarts. The fact that they mocked and bullied him for even daring to approach them while they were playing football was the proof that Severus should have never bothered talking to Muggles in the first place. He made sure they paid for it once he could cast magic outside the school properly.
"Muggles are fine," said Harry, but quickly added, "And anyway I don't think my mum wouldn't talk to people because they were Muggles."
The look of uncertainty that shadowed Harry's face indicated how unsure he was of his statement. If he was waiting for an honest answer, he'd better seek it elsewhere. "She was… tolerant."
Lily was his for a few years; they spent their summers together, talking, playing, and discovering. Then she was Potter's girl and she was suddenly inviting him over for the summer. Severus could see them sitting under the trees Severus had showed her. Read of the books Severus had given her and share secrets Severus didn't know. James Potter had seen him, once. He had raised his wand to hex Severus outside his own house – to humiliate him in front of Lily once again, of course. And she, she was tugging on Potter's sleeve and was muttering "let's go, leave him alone, stop," eager to leave the scene and continue her date with Potter somewhere else. He had hated her. He had truly and wholeheartedly hated her. For a few days.
"My grandparents… Were they – did they dislike… people like me? People who like…" he took a breath, "Gay people. Did they hate them? Because my aunt does."
Seeking acceptance from the dead. Severus would fail to see the point of it if he hadn't fallen in the same trap when Lily died. "How would I know?" he spat irritatingly.
Harry snorted. "Right."
James Potter and Sirius black, on the other hand, had a particular abhorrence for faggots as far as Severus could remember. He shut his mouth around the information before it could escape. It wouldn't do any good. Severus suddenly came to the conclusion that he had said enough. He went off to the main room and wore his cloak. "You might have to stay by yourself tomorrow. Don't have a breakdown and don't lose your nerve during my absence no matter what conjectures you might make to pass your time. It's an order."
"Just bring me cookies when you come back," Harry said as he leaned against the door.
Severus forgot to look disgusted.
