Hey guys! I recently rewatched the HP movies and couldn't help but to write this little Snarry fic (and a Sirius/Remus fic also).
Obviously it diverges off the canon a bit, and I'm saying Harry is 18 by this time.
Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it, much love xox
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Every time Harry visited St Mungo's Hospital it was always the same; healers bustling about, flowers in the otherwise bland waiting areas, and people milling around either injured or visiting. He visited the same pale yellow ward, took the same straightforward route, saw the same patients and their loved ones, and always sat by the same bedside of the same man whose condition didn't change.
Everyone said the war was over, and they were right; it was over. The aftermath however, was just beginning. There was much to do, many things to rebuild, and magic could only help with so much. Harry was doing what he could helping to restore Hogwarts, but he knew they could do that without him and he didn't want to spend any more of his life chasing down dark wizards or fighting. He mostly wanted to be left alone, so spent most of his time sitting by the bedside of a man he thought he had had pegged since first year. A man that was not the cold, merciless, greasy git of the dungeons who hated Harry, but a man who had loved and lost, who had done anything asked of him, and gave everything to protect Harry.
Harry had seen much in the pensive, but there was still so much he didn't know, so many questions and not nearly enough answers. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme in his life. He just needed Snape to wake up, needed to speak to him, to hear his voice, to reaffirm that everything he had seen was true. The actions, the thoughts, the feelings. Snape had given Harry these memories in what he thought were his last moments, and honestly Harry had thought that they were too, surely Snape wouldn't have lied when he had nothing left to loose.
Days passed into weeks, and Harry was starting to worry that Snape would never wake up. He could see that the healers were beginning to grow concerned too; they had mended all of the physical wounds, nothing ailed him, yet he still did not wake. They said he was basically in a coma, though they didn't elaborate any further and Harry felt it was because they didn't know. Harry had heard somewhere, probably on one of Uncle Vernon's late night programs, that coma patients could still hear what was going on.
When he had first started coming to visit Snape, Harry sat silently, sometimes he cried, but he didn't speak. As time went on he started to talk, just a few words, a greeting, some tidbits of news, but soon he found himself telling Snape about anything and everything that crossed his mind while he was there. He spoke about things that he had never said aloud before, his deepest fears, and greatest aspirations. It was freeing to say everything he felt out loud.
Harry had never wanted to willingly touch Snape before, but sometimes his hair would be sitting funny after the healers had been, or his hand would be poking out from the blankets. Harry would fix it, knowing Snape would never allow himself to look improper, but soon his touches lingered, and Harry would even hold the man's hand.
Hermione and Ron didn't entirely understand why Harry continued to visit Snape, but it seemed to be helping him so they didn't object. Harry had told them some of what he had seen in the pensive, enough for them to know that Snape was truly a good guy, but not all of it, he knew that some of what he had seen was for him alone.
The healers had stopped trying to enforce visiting hours upon Harry after the five week mark, as he refused to only be there in the allotted times. He was also Snape's only visitor, apart from Ministry officials, and he liked to come in the middle of the night if he couldn't sleep, or bring a packed lunch and camp out for the day.
On his way in one day, a magazine in the waiting area had caught his eye; 'Potion Master Monthly.' Harry grabbed it and took it in with him, reading the articles to Snape, he could imagine the reactions Snape would have to some of the things in the articles. Calling all of the authors idiots probably, Harry smiled to himself at the thought.
More time went by, and there were talks of moving Snape to the more permanent wing of St Mungo's. To Harry it felt like the healers were giving up on Snape; he still believed that Snape would wake up and…and what? What did Harry expect to happen? Just because he had spent weeks by Snape's bedside, and dealt with a lot of his thoughts and feelings didn't mean that Snape would want his company or to even speak to him. He had no right to expect anything from the man that had already given everything.
Harry came in later than he'd planned to one day, he wasn't even going to come; he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but he hadn't made it in the day before, and he just wanted to see Snape. He apologised to the man in the bed for not coming in the previous day, and began to explain why he'd been absent. The hard plastic hospital chair was right next to the bed, and Harry's eyes were heavy, he laid his head on the itchy hospital blankets and closed his eyes, not even bothering to take his glasses off.
Harry thought he felt something touch his outstretched hand and he groaned sleepily, attempting to pull his hand away while keeping his eyes shut; he was still so tired. The thing felt warm and heavy on his hand, not letting him move, "Huh?" Harry finally opened his eyes to see a hand on top of his.
"I thought you were never going to shut up," a voice croaked.
"Snape!" Harry sat bolt upright," You're awake! I better go get-"
"Shush, Potter, I'm fine," Snape cut him off hoarsely, "just fetch me some water."
Harry did as he was told, getting a plastic cup from the little bedside table and filling it with water from the jug next to it. He adjusted the bed so that Snape was sitting a bit more upright and then passed the cup to the bedridden man who sipped at it slowly for some time.
Harry stared, he wasn't sure what else to do, until finally he had to ask, "How-"
Again he was cut off, "Just before I lost consciousness, I put myself into a magical coma of sorts," he paused unused to talking, "I knew the physical wounds could be healed easily enough, but it takes a lot longer to heal magical wounds," another pause, "how long has it been?"
"Months," Harry told him, shifting in his chair, "almost four months."
"Hmmm," Snape took another sip of water, "it felt longer. Were you here every day?"
Harry wasn't sure whether he was more shocked by the question, the conversation, or the general lack of malice in his voice, "Just about…" he felt oddly embarrassed to admit that to Snape.
"I thought as much."
"Um, you knew I was here?"
"Most of the time."
Harry bit his lip; he suddenly wasn't so sure that speaking his mind to Snape these last few months was a good idea, "Did you, uh, hear anything?"
"Enough," Snape answered cryptically, then added, "those potion 'masters' are all fools; its four frog eyes, not three and they must all be yellow, otherwise-" he cleared his throat, "otherwise the potion is ineffective."
Harry smirked, that was the Snape he knew and lov-uh…
"What are you smiling about?"
"Oh, uh, when I read the article I thought to myself that you would think they were idiots, and I was right," Harry explained, he kind of liked the sound of Snape's voice when there was no venom in it.
Snape sighed, "What are you doing here Potter? Why have you wasted four months waiting for an old man to wake up?"
"Oh," Harry wasn't prepared for such a direct question, "I, uh," he looked away, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.
"How fascinating," Snape drawled as he set the cup aside and clasped his hands together, "you have spent months by my bedside, in which time you have spoken about any and every topic a person could possibly think of, and yet now you have nothing to say."
The younger man appeared sheepish as he avoided Snape's eyes, "I have questions…"
"I'm sure many people do, yet I don't see them here."
"I was afraid you would never wake up, I was afraid that if you did you would refuse to see me," Harry admitted a little more confidently.
"Why would I do that?" Snape enquired.
"I don't know, because you're Snape, because I know your secrets, your feelings, because I want to know more."
"I showed you what was relevant, do not assume to know me based on the brief glimpse in the pensive," Snape advised, his voice was still void of it's usual harshness, but Harry could tell he was being closed off.
"Let me get to know you," Harry didn't care that Snape probably didn't want to answer a bunch of questions that would open old wounds, he wanted answers, "you loved my mother, why did you never tell her?"
"I warn you, you will not like what you find," Snape cautioned him but answered the question when Harry didn't retract it, "Lily was a witch who knew what she wanted, and if she had wanted me she would have made it clear. The doe eyes she made at Potter were a pretty clear indication of where her interest was."
"Let me be the judge of that," like Harry ever listened to warnings, but he did listen to Snape's response, "I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" finally there was a hint of resentment in his words.
"I'm sorry that your life has not been kind, that my father was an asshole to you, that my mother only wanted your friendship. I'm sorry that it led you down the wrong path, I'm sorry that you lost her. I'm sorry that I look like my father, and that it reminds you of all that pain every time you see me. I'm sorry that you were forced into situations you didn't want to be in, and I'm sorry that it almost cost you your life," Harry took a breath; he did not want to cry.
"I don't need your pity Potter," Snape looked away, but Harry saw something in his eyes.
"It's not pity," Harry said firmly as he touched Snape's arm, "It's an apology that's long overdue."
"You may look like him, have his arrogance, smart mouth and knack for rule breaking…but you also have her eyes, her compassion, her desire to help, her sense of what is right. It made hating you extremely difficult…" Snape paused, unsure whether to say what he had been about to, but Harry had asked to know and Snape had warned him, "and loving you exceptionally easy. Especially as you got older; she would have been proud of the man you've become."
Harry's eyes widened a little, Snape loved him? "You love me?"
"I warned you," Snape simply stated, "I won't blame you if you want to leave."
"There is nowhere else I'd rather be right now," Harry assured him and pulled his chair in closer to accentuate his words, "I want to know more, you're harder to get to open up than a book in the restricted section. I spent the last seven years thinking that you loathed me, and then you tell me it was in fact the opposite…"
Snape sighed, he had almost hoped that his admission would scare off the young man, "Originally it was just because you were Lily's son, so of course I had to protect you. When you started Hogwarts it stirred up so many feelings I had tried to bury, I wanted to hate you for so many things, to blame you. I was so angry and I just let that preside over my actions and my words. It was also my job to loathe you as I could not risk anyone looking into my mind and knowing everything that would expose me. Of course as you got older I saw the traits in you that I adored in Lily, and I started to love you as a person, and not just as her son."
Harry gripped Snape's hand and squeezed it as he smiled, surprisingly Snape didn't pull away, "These past four months, I have done a lot of thinking, a lot of re-thinking. Everything that I thought I knew about the people in my life has either been solidified or turned on its head in the last year. You are still the same person I've known; intelligent, skilful, determined. However, I've been able to build on that recently, you're also loyal, protective and loving," Harry stood long enough to sit on the bed with Snape so that they were only a few inches apart. He looked his old potions professor in the eyes, "You've given enough, it's time to step back and live your life."
The smile almost reached his eyes, he never thought he'd hear Harry speak of him so fondly, "I rather think I'll be in Azkaban for a while," Snape broke their eye contact and any joy in his face faded.
"I thought you'd been listening…" Harry told him with a bit of cheek.
"It was like one big long dream, some of it is foggy and jumbled. To what are you referring?"
"I got you pardoned for any and all 'criminal activity,' you are a free man, Severus," Harry explained happily. He idly wondered if he would be allowed to call him by his first name.
Snape raised an eyebrow, "I am grateful," he said sincerely; he had not fancied the prospect of Azkaban.
"I'm grateful for all you've done," Harry replied, their eyes meeting again.
Silence fell between them, neither moving, nor saying anything until a strand of Snape's hair fell across his face and Harry raised his hand to brush it away.
Snape caught his arm loosely as he did so, "What are you doing?"
"A hair fell on your face," Harry informed him innocently.
Snape sighed, he was too old and too broken to play these games. He shouldn't have told the young man about his feelings, he should have just told him to leave, then he wouldn't have to go through this again.
Harry could see that Snape was closing himself off again and he had to remedy that quickly, "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit nervous," he admitted hurriedly.
"About wha-?"
Harry leant in suddenly and pressed a soft kiss to Snape's lips.
The man's face went blank and he became very still.
Fear struck Harry; did he just do the wrong thing? He worried his bottom lip and held his breath as he waited for whatever Snape was about to do.
Snape, however, did not know what to do. This was completely unexpected. The whole last four months had been very unexpected. Surviving, Harry visiting him every day, admitting what he had to Harry, and now Harry kissing him. How did he proceed with this? He wanted so desperately to give in to his desires, to reciprocate, to be loved, even if it was for a short time until the younger man inevitably got bored or found him too old or unattractive. Therein was the other side of the argument; he shouldn't let himself go through this kind of torture.
The hesitation went on too long and Harry lost his nerve, he turned and made to get off of the bed, but a hand caught his arm and Harry looked back at Snape.
"Harry…" it was one of the few times Snape had ever used his first name, "I don't want you to waste your life, I'm old, I'm broken, I'm not pleasant. You'd be better off with that Weasley girl, or a bloke your own age," it killed him to say it, but it would be better for both of them in the end.
"I've already wasted my life doing what everyone else wanted and expected of me. Now I'm doing what I want," Harry told him.
That fire was something Snape admired in both Lily and Harry. He pulled Harry closer, "Are you sure? There are many things you still don't know about me…"
Harry glanced at Snape's dry pink lips, "You don't know everything about me either, and yes, I'm sure, this is something I want to explore."
Snape took in all of Harry, from his unruly hair to his over-sized sweater, giving himself permission to enjoy the view, "This is your last chance to back out," he warned, "you should know that I do nothing half-heartedly."
Harry wriggled closer so their faces were close enough that he could feel Snape's hot breath on his cheeks, "I'm counting on it Severus…"
Snape closed the distance, kissing Harry eagerly, one hand still holding his arm and the other went around to hold the back of his neck, his fingers playing in the short dark hair.
Harry didn't have a great deal of experience kissing, but Snape seemed like an expert, he idly wondered what else he would be an expert at. 'Everything' was his guess as Snape pulled away, both of them a little more breathy than before the kiss.
"I think you should get the healer now," Snape recommended with a small smile on his face, "the sooner I can get out of here the better."
Harry nodded and made it to the door before turning back, "I'm coming home with you, you know, to make sure that you don't slip back into a coma or anything…"
Snape rolled his eyes fondly, "I suppose I'll allow it. Now go."
Harry grinned and hurried off with a skip in his step.