He has drained number seventeen, Spinner's End of his belongings, killed the magical plants in his garden, and locked the front door. The eerie and oppressive air of the house leaves him once he is outside, and he feels lighter.

Before he gives the keys to the Muggle estate agent, he wanders towards the willow by the canal where he used to sit with Lily.

As he approaches, he can hear laughter. A football rolls near him, and he boots it back.

"Hi!" a boy waves frantically. It's the child who lives opposite.

"Hello," Severus calls.

He continues walking down the path.

"That's the man who saved Rosie!" a second boy says, when he is not quite out of earshot.

"Wow!" gasps a girl.

To complete the circuit, he goes to the park. The swings are long gone, replaced by a seesaw, and some youths gossip whilst resting their backs against it.

Nothing about this place belongs to Lily.

The world has moved on. And so will he.

Severus arrives at Harry's house and the door opens to his touch. He takes out his numerous minuscule trunks and Banishes them upstairs.

Harry's not in, but there's a handsome eagle owl glaring at him through the kitchen window.

Letting the owl in, he hoots indignantly.

"Hello, Digby," he says. "I'm not supposed to give you any treats, you'll get fat."

Orange eyes stare balefully at him, and he sticks his leg out.

The scroll reads:

13th August 2001

Dearest Severus,

I'm writing to discuss hosting a ball in honour of you and your intended in our home on the 1st of September.

If the gossip is to be believed, you will be wed in a matter of weeks. Many, many congratulations from our household.

It is a most opportune match for you. I am so glad that the Prince line still has soulmate magic within its bloodline.

A celebration of the engagement of Mr. Potter and his soulmate is just the sort of news to bolster everyone's spirits. There have been seldom joyous occasions of late. I'm certain the entirety of society will want to join my family in commemorating this event by raising a glass to you and Mr. Potter.

We must meet very soon to review the arrangements for the ballroom. I have taken the liberty of booking the folk band the Wild Kings—they had a cancellation.

The Mmes Weasleys (French & English) will be joining me this Saturday to deliberate the finer details. Draco, too, is keen to get involved. You know he is very fond of Harry. Naturally you both should accompany us if at all possible. The timeframe is very tight. Alternatively, I am sure between us we can put on a party to suit both of your tastes.

The entire manor has been through an extensive period of renovation and you will find it quite changed. I hope it is to yours and Mr. Potter's liking.

Yours, in anticipation,

Narcissa

Enclosed is an invitation written in elegant script. When Severus makes to open it, the shimmering silver parchment takes off like a bird, flies in a loop, and returns to flutter in front of his face.

This, too, receives a glare from the owl.

It says:

(Just a draft invite, do let me know your thoughts)

You are cordially welcomed to celebrate the engagement of Severus Tobias Snape and Harry James Potter.

Saturday, 1st of September 2001

7.00p.m. until 1.00a.m.

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire

Kindly R.S.V.P. by the 25th of August.

At that moment, Harry comes in, sweat stuck to his forehead, fiddling with a portable electronic device and wires that play music directly into his ears.

They don't even need to greet each other with words anymore, their lips find the others. Until Digby screeches, and they spring apart with thundering hearts, he's forgotten all about the engagement party.

"What do you want to do when you graduate?"

Harry sits perpendicular to him, feet on the other side of Severus's legs. "Don't know. Sit here with you, drinking tea, I s'pose."

"That's not an occupation."

"It should be. I could be a director of a charity. Dedicated to the care of my Severus Snape."

"I forbid it."

He pushes his glasses back up onto his nose. "Or something with owls. Or children. Maybe I could teach Junior Quidditch. That'd be fun."

"'Chaotic' and 'hazardous' are the words that come to mind."

He gives him a lop-sided grin and asks, "How long have you loved me?"

Severus tucks Harry's head under his chin and reflects. "Don't know. I'm rather good at lying to myself. Your letters made me realise that Hogwarts wasn't the same without you."

"Oh?" Harry burrows into his chest and Severus threads his fingers through the soft hair.

"I had what I thought was my dream job, and yet I'd taken no time to myself to determine what to do. Teaching teenagers was certainly not it."

"So, you like working at the Ministry?" Harry asks.

Severus hums. "I like the hours. And the proximity to you, where I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't get up to nuisance." Harry elbows him in the ribs. "I enjoy leaving my work at the desk at five o'clock, no marking, no real responsibility aside from accurate patent applications. And whilst fame is a capricious thing, it is a pleasant change to be a respected member of society."

"You're looking forward to our engagement party, then?"

"No. I'm looking forward to marrying you."

Gently as a summer breeze, Harry's breath ghosts against Severus's lips, when he says, "Good." The tenderness emanating from his face makes his heart skip. It's still just as paralysing as ever. He doesn't dare sever the atmosphere of this moment, so instead of speaking, he bows his head.

A sigh leaves Harry's lungs when their lips touch, hands cling to the front of his robes. He pours every emotion he feels for Harry into this kiss.

"Your hair, and eyes...they're like ink." Harry kisses the hair at his temple. "I want to see you, hold you. Shower with me? We don't have to, you know, do anything."

The gentle lips at his throat were becoming familiar, almost a habit. It was hard to be self-conscious at such persistent affection, or to maintain any measure of control.

He allows himself to be pulled upstairs, and they kiss with tongues and teeth between their robes dropping to the carpet, so that they stand before each other, on full display.

They stop, gaze wide, not daring to glance below the neck, and Harry recommences his assault before Severus pins him to the wall and sucks the sensitive area of skin behind his ear.

A gasp escapes him now that he is finally nude in broad daylight with Harry and he can feel the cool of Harry's precum on his stomach. He would learn to please Harry, study him like a musician loves his instrument, coax beautiful noises of bliss. Harry turns to putty and Severus drops to his knees.

Then, Severus engulfs his prick and Harry helplessly sinks to the floor in record speed, whispering expletives.

Severus lowers him to the ground and kneels between his legs. Harry is loud and runs his fingers through Severus's hair.

Whilst he enjoys Harry's reactions, he will need to practice. It doesn't fit very well in his mouth, and he doesn't know what in particular he should do, but judging by the delicious moans, it seems to be going well, until Harry pushes him off, and says, "I'm going to—please, please fuck me, I want you to—"

"Not until you're mine," Severus growls. "If it isn't too inconvenient, I should prefer to continue…?"

Harry's eyes are wide as Severus breathes on the head of his cock. "Oh. P-please." Severus returns. "Yes. Oh."

It is polite to swallow ejaculate, so Severus keeps himself still and receptive, taking all his lover gives him, arms wrapped around gorgeous thighs, as Harry grunts and curses, and then finally, finally goes lax.

Severus shifts slightly to rest his head on Harry's hip and waits.

"Wow…"

"Mm," Severus hums around the softening prick in his cheek and caresses it with his tongue.

Harry lets out a strangled gasp before passing his fingers through Severus's hair and tugging him upwards.

It's nowhere near time for bed, but Harry draws him there anyway. He takes care to stretch out in such a way that his erection doesn't spear Harry's body, but the younger man is having none of it and leans his back against Severus's front.

Clearing his mind, he focusses on the feeling of his weight pressing into the mattress, the noise of a motorbike droning down the street, and the sense of his lungs swelling with air every few seconds.

All his hard work is spoiled when a roaming hand finds his cock. At first, Harry just holds it. Then, he begins to lightly stroke Severus's length.

It goes on for a while, and Severus buries his face in Harry's hair. Harry seems sated and sleepy. The barely there pressure from the finger and thumb is more of a tease than a serious plan for release. Still, he lets Harry do as he wishes.

It's not long until Harry stops. He shuffles so that it rests between his legs. They lie mostly still for a while, Harry using just the tips of his fingers to play ever-so-gently with the foreskin.

Though he'll let Harry do anything, he expresses his annoyance by kissing the side of Harry's neck. Green eyes look back at him heatedly and Harry squeezes his strong thighs together and rocks. His arousal gets an incredible massage.

The pleasure heightens when he pulls Harry firmly against him, and his hand strays across his chest, through the hairs of his abdomen, to brush accidentally against Harry's hardening cock.

There are benefits to being just twenty-one.

Giving into impulse, his hips stutter forward and he fucks Harry's thighs. Harry grins and holds his legs even tighter together. It is sublime.

"That's it," Harry says, watching his face, "let me take care of you."

Hand curling into never-tidy hair, they share sloppy kisses, and Harry rocks his hips backwards in time with Severus's thrusts.

Unable to contain himself, Severus groans and presses a kiss to Harry's shoulder.

"Perfect, yes," Harry says. "Touch me."

Reaching out to feel Harry again in his palm, he is slow, he is gentle, so Harry stops moving to scowl at him. "Stop teasing."

Severus smirks. "Hypocrite." Nevertheless, he does as he's told (though he still can't believe Harry's hard again after only fifteen minutes) and Harry's head flops onto the pillow in satisfaction.

Harry just watches him again, desire written over his face, before forming a circle with his thumb and forefinger and adding exquisite pressure to his cockhead.

It's too much, he's approaching the end, so he stops thrusting to stroke Harry faster and kiss his neck.

"Tell me when," Severus says against his skin.

"You'll know," he replies huskily. "You're a clever man."

It isn't long until he feels legs trembling around his cock, neck taut under his lips, the sheets bunching up where toes curl into it, and that's what finally pushes Severus over the edge with a groan. Warm cum covers his hand, but he doesn't see as his eyes are clenched shut, his jaw slack. He jerks wildly, and comes across Harry's thighs to the sound of his groans.

The setting sun washes the room with orange light, and Harry looks divine.