Summary: Harry is about to take the biggest step of his life. Is it the right one?

Disclaimer: Not mine. No money, no malice

Notes: Well, it was a nice WAFF. But this is what demanded to be written. Thanks to my beta readers MadreBug and Keri, and of course to my mate for putting up with my computer affair.

Archive: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest Challenge: The evening before Harry is to wed another (deciding to live up to the expectations of the wizarding world instead of following his heart and coming out of the closet) when Snape shows at his bachelor party, plans begin to change as the evening progresses.

From the Coming Out Stories section of The New Gay Wizard:

            Once again Severus Snape had saved my life. He did it in the same manor he had during my school days and with the same insufferable attitude. He didn't do it for glory; in fact I'm not sure he's even aware of what he's done.

            Why don't I start at the beginning? I was 19 and once again the savior of the wizarding world. Two years previously we'd finally defeated Voldemort. And let me tell you, I did not do it single handedly like the press would have you believe. It took many people working together to get me into a position to strike a killing blow. It wasn't done in some honorable duel either. I was snuck into his stronghold and did it from behind. In fact that's how most of the Death Eaters were taken out. In the dark, from behind. There is nothing glamorous or fair about war.

Sorry, I get a little carried away on the subject. I was 19 and still the toast of the wizarding world. It seemed everyone was interested in my personal life and the pressure was on for me to settle down.

            Everyone I know had been trying to set me up with their cousin, sister, friend. I swear, I've been on more blind dates since I graduated then all the wizards in the world combined. I decided enough was enough, I was going to pursue the next likely prospect that came along. Anything to get people to leave me alone. It turned out to be a co-worker of Hermione's, April Nelson.

            She was everything that could be desired for the wife of The Boy Who Lived. Petite, perky, witty, intelligent, from a good family and we made an attractive couple. There were only two problems with her. First of all, she was more interested in the prestige associated with being with The Boy Who Lived, then being with just Harry. So many people can't see past the scar to the person I really am. I figured I could deal with that though. It's not like I hadn't been since I was 11. I was hopeful that after time she'd get to know me. The person behind the scar.

            The second problem was more simple, yet infinitely more complex. Simple – she's a woman. The implications of that statement are what's complicated.

            I know you're wondering how that could be a problem. Of course she's a woman you say. That's the way it works, men marry women. Of course that's what The Boy Who Lived would do. He's supposed to get married to a pretty little witch, settle down with a job in public service and have children. Enjoy the life Voldemort robbed his parents of all those years ago.

            I'm not my parents and that's not the life I want. I know what's expected of me however. I'm The Boy Who Lived; hero to the masses, adored by witches everywhere, poster boy for wizard-next-door goodness, and looked up to by the young.

            It's not anything I asked for that's for sure, but it's what I've got. All I ever wanted was to belong somewhere and to have friends. Instead I got adoration and expectations. How could I let them all down though, I was given a place and a purpose. I felt that deserved repayment of some kind. And that repayment came in the form of living up to the image. I couldn't not live up to the expectations. I couldn't not be what was expected. To put it bluntly I was afraid I'd lose the place I'd been given if I was anything less then I was supposed to be. I was afraid I'd lose my friends if they knew what I really want. I was afraid I'd be ostracized if anyone knew I was gay. I couldn't live with that. I knew I wouldn't survive.

            Unfortunately, by the night of my bachelor party I knew I couldn't survive living up to the expectations either.

Seeing April exclusively had made an end to the seemingly endless blind dates. However it was now expected for us to get married. We'd been together nearly a year when I finally caved and set a date. My friends were ecstatic. The press had a field day. April was radiant she was so happy. I was miserable, but couldn't show it.

            I didn't feel like myself anymore. I'd been lying and pretending for so long it was starting to wear on me. I hated myself for not being able to live up to the image of The Boy Who Lived. And I hated myself for not breaking away from that image.

            As the wedding approached I was more depressed then I'd ever been in my life. I kept it very well hidden however. If anyone did comment on any odd behavior I passed it off as bridegroom nerves.

            It all cumulated the night of my bachelor party. The party was held at The Three Broomsticks. Everyone was there, former classmates, co-workers from the ministry; even my former professors came. Somehow, Ron and the twins managed to keep the press away. I was incredibly grateful for that. Everybody was talking and laughing, congratulating me left and right. I know they all meant well, but every time a person would congratulate me and tell me how wonderful married life would be or ask about our plans for children it felt like a death knoll.

            It had finally sunk in that this was going to be my life forever. I would remain The Boy Who Lived for the rest of my life. All desire to be something other would have to be subliminated. It struck me then that I had ensured their freedom from oppression and tyranny at the cost of my own. And I was unwilling to pay that price.

            Staggered by the realization, I excused myself and retreated to the men's room. I needed to try to compose myself. I needed to escape. Frankly at the time only one option appealed to my state of mind. All I needed was a viable method. I was sitting in a stall trying to come up with the quickest means to end my life when Severus Snape saved me.

            I heard the door open and not wanting to be found lifted my feet from the floor. I then heard the unmistakable voice of my former potions professor speaking to an unknown wizard.

            "I'm surprised Potter's going through with it," the sneer was audible in his voice.

            I knew he'd never had a very high opinion of me.

            "What did you expect?" the unknown wizard asked. "He's always done what was expected of him."

            How very true, but not for very much longer I thought. No one expects me to kill myself.

            "I expected better of him then to end up with some gold-digger," Snape humphed. "Anyone with a brain could see it's not what he wants. But no, the little martyr is still sacrificing his life for others."

            I was stunned. I hadn't thought anyone had noticed how I really felt. Snape had always been terrible perceptive however. And to hear him say I was sacrificing my life when the thought had just occurred to me made me think. I was so caught in my own thoughts I didn't hear the other wizard's reply.

            "It's obvious to any who would take the time to notice that the boy does not care for women."

I couldn't believe Snape's words. He thought I was gay. Well, I am, but still.

            "The brat just hasn't the bollocks to admit it," Snape sneered.

            "Have you ever thought he might feel he can't, Sev?" the unknown man asked. "I haven't known him as long as you, but I am just as observant. The boy is scared of losing the life he has now."

            "What life," Snape jeered, "he has a do nothing ministry job and his friends have moved on."

            That comment cut me to the quick. It was so hurtful because it was true. I really didn't have much of a life. My ministry job was a joke; all I was was a symbol, good PR. And my friends really had moved on in their lives. Ron and Hermione were still my only real friends and they were married and starting a family. No room there for me.

            "Even so," the other wizard said, "he may feel he has no choice."

            Snape snorted inelegantly, "Of course he has a choice. I always thought Dumbledore was wrong to put so much pressure on such a young child. And I know I'm right. As a result the stupid child believes he owes the wizarding world something when in reality it is he who is owed. The debt could be paid if the fools would allow him his own life. Leave off The Boy Who Lived crap and let him be Harry."

            "Why Severus," the other man laughed, "you sound as though you care."

            Again Snape snorted, "I feel sorry for the brat. And I admit, but only to you Love, I empathize with him. God knows I never wanted to tell my father I was gay."

            The unknown wizard sighed, "I remember, you were terrified. It must be just as bad for him. You feared letting your father down and Harry fears letting his whole world down."

            I was struck dumb by what I'd overheard. Snape's opinion that I was owed by the wizard community was shocking. It had never occurred to me that I should be owed anything. Even more shocking was that Severus Snape, a man I respected despite our past, empathized with me. Understood how I felt even. And he was gay too! Then there was the other man, I still couldn't place his voice, he knew exactly how I felt. My mind reeling from the conversation, I only caught the end of what Snape said next.

            "…should go somewhere he can start over, be unknown in order to live a happier life."

            "Be that as it may Love, but we should be going home. The party is starting to break-up."

            With those words Snape and the other man left the bathroom. I sat for a moment just absorbing what I'd heard, I no longer wanted to die. I had too much to think about. The fact that Snape had gone through something similar gave me comfort and courage.

            I returned to the party in time to see the last of the guests off. When Ron questioned me about where I'd been I told him I'd needed some air. I reminded him of the time to come over in the morning then disapperated home.

            I thought for a long time that night. Some time near dawn I finally came to a decision. I wrote letters to my friends and April. I told them all the truth, that I am gay and how depressed I'd been with my life. I apologized to April for inadvertently leading her on. I don't expect she'd ever forgive me. Surprisingly I'm okay with that. I told Ron and Hermione I loved them but I needed time to discover who I really was. I told them everything I'd been feeling. All the frustration poured onto the paper. I felt I didn't have anything left to lose. I'd even stopped caring if I lost their friendship. I'd even thought about writing to Snape, but what could I say? Without stopping to think about what I'd written I posted the letters.

            Letters posted, I packed a few things and left. That was five years ago and I've never looked back. I'm 24 now; I've graduated muggle University. I have a good job in advertising and a fantastic boyfriend of two years. I'm happy like I never thought I would be. I owe it all to Severus Snape. I'd like to say thank you for saving my life.

//

            Sighing Severus set down the magazine, "You're welcome Harry, may your life be everything you desire."