Chapter Fourteen: February 27th
Harry looked up from what had become 'his' seat as the door opened and Severus entered. His bondmate looked at him in some surprise. "What are you doing down here now?"
"I… just wondered what you were doing, so I thought I'd come down and see."
Severus crooked an eyebrow at him. Harry had been doing that a great deal in the last month, just wandering down to see him even when he was supposed to be free. Although their tutoring sessions had continued – at somewhat less regular intervals – in order to keep up appearances, Harry had miraculously not earned any detentions of late. However, he seemed to want to spend time here. With him. Even knowing that the boy liked him, considered him a friend – they'd had that discussion not too long ago – it was an astonishing thought to him.
"At the moment, I intend to do nothing much except have a cup of tea and recover from the horrors of fifth-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors."
"I distinctly remember you saying nothing could be worse than a first-year Gryffindor and Slytherin class."
"I hate to admit it, but I was wrong. So very wrong." Harry grinned at the rueful tone. "Give me a healthy rivalry over the deadly combination of know-it-alls and foolish bravery any day." He sighed heavily, and Harry laughed out loud at the put-upon expression on his face. "After I have recovered somewhat, I need to make some potions for the infirmary. Poppy's been harassing me for the last week. So, unless you wish to help me, I suggest you leave soon."
"I think I can cope with being an assistant for a while."
"Ah, a challenge!"
"Indeed. Lead on, MacDuff!"
"Someone's been revising Muggle Studies."
"Why, how could you tell?" Loading on the sarcasm.
"I think you've been spending too much time around me."
A noncommittal shrug. "Maybe."
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Severus gave a sigh of pure relief as he turned from dispatching the last set of bottles to the infirmary. "Thank goodness that's over with. Excepting a disaster of truly biblical proportions, I shouldn't have to do that again for another few months."
Harry cleared his throat meaningfully. "Oh yes. Thank you, Harry."
"You're welcome." He could detect a hint of a sardonic tone in Harry's voice.
He led the way into the living room again. Once Harry had taken his seat, he produced another pot of tea that he'd kept in readiness, knowing that he'd want it.
Pouring for them both, he said, "You never did give me a reason why you were here. And why you come down when you have no obligation to do so. After all, the bond seems to be almost perfectly under control now."
"I, well, I was kind of. Lonely. Without you to talk to."
If he hadn't been practiced at controlling his expression, he rather suspected that his eyebrows would be crawling into his hairline and his mouth would be hanging open. The boy couldn't have just admitted that he was lonely without him. It was impossible. "I'm amazed, Mr. Potter. Surely you have friends."
"Uh, yes. But, well, none of them are you." The boy looked positively scarlet with embarrassment. Hardly surprising, considering this latest bizarre confession of his.
"I think that you are getting entirely too attached to me, Harry."
"Maybe, but…"
"No, listen to me. I am more than happy to be your friend, if you want it, but you should not be seeking out my company like this. I'm…" he cut himself off. Not young enough. Not pure enough. Not nearly good enough for you… to be a friend, or anything else. Certainly not anything else. Never that. He had never been happier to have his control back. The boy would run screaming in terror if he were to overhear that set of thoughts.
A tentative contact, a feeling of determination. "I… think I" //could love you.// Complete honesty.
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Silence. Far too long. He was supposed to say something. His mind felt filled beyond capacity with those few words the boy had uttered. 'I think I could love you.' They reverberated inside his head as if they had been a gong struck within it. Finally, he made himself speak.
"Harry. What you're feeling, it's not real. The bond is making you feel this way, that's all." That must be it, surely.
"I feel it. That makes it real." Severus watched as the boy – only a boy, too young to know what he was doing to him – took a deep breath, closing his eyes in a clear bid for control. "Tell me you don't feel it too. Tell me that all your control and reserve can make it go away."
Grateful for decades of practice in lying. "I feel nothing. For you. There's nothing I need to make go away." The boy was untouchable, for countless reasons. Far beyond his feeble reach.
Somehow they had come to be standing very close, Severus glaring down into the boy's eyes, willing him to believe the denial, to leave even if it meant storming out in anger, to not make the mistake of loving him, or fooling himself into thinking that he loved him. Harry searched his eyes for something, his expression a mixture of pleading and something close to anger. Severus concentrated on keeping his hard-won shields up. Letting the boy see what he really felt would only lead to disaster.
"I don't believe you."
Harry kissed him, a hand tangled in his hair pulling him down so he could meet Severus on tiptoe. Like my dream, thought Severus, distantly. That wonderful, painful dream he'd had five and a half months ago and couldn't help but think of at the strangest of times afterwards. And then he couldn't think at all, just concentrate on the feeling of Harry's lips brushing against his. Soft, sweet, innocent, glorious. All the clichés sprang to his mind, all reminding him that clichés only gain that status because they are so true.
He gasped involuntarily, and Harry took instinctive advantage of it, sweeping his tongue into Severus' mouth. //Oh god.// The meticulously placed barriers were crumbling so fast. He couldn't tell whose thought it had been. Severus closed his eyes and gave in. Where had the boy learned to kiss like that? The wave of jealousy provoked by that stray thought made him stagger. Or maybe it was the feel of his tongue in Harry's mouth – when had that happened? – and their arms clutching each other, and the muscled back under his hands that was stealing his balance and his sanity all in one.
//I love you.//
They broke apart, breathing harshly, Severus' eyes still closed.
"Lily…"
The blow, open-handed, with true rage behind it, took him completely by surprise.
The End (for now)
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