TITLE: Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel, Chapter Twenty-Five
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling.
BETA: The Incredible Irisgirl12000, and all further mistakes are mine.
SUMMARY: As the time draws near for Severus to approach the Dark Lord, he and Harry spend some quality time together and try to prepare themselves for the worst.

One more juicy chapter to go, so that makes this:

Chapter Twenty-Five: Almost Goodbye

"We need another Chaser," Ron told Harry grimly as they walked to class after breakfast.

"What? Why?"

"Because Ginny told me last night that she's resigning."

"And you let her!" Harry squawked, aggrieved. "How the hell are we supposed to win the cup if we have to start training a new player this late in the season?"

Ron's face was an expressionless mask. "Of course I let her," he replied in a low, seething sort of voice. Harry had never heard him sound so angry. "After what she did, she ought to resign from being a Weasley, let alone Quidditch. If she wants to punish herself, I'm fine with that. As far as I'm concerned, she couldn't be too harsh."

"You don't mean that," Hermione replied gently. "Whatever happens, she's still your sister."

"I know she is. That's part of the problem! I'm downright ashamed of her! Not only did she nearly end the wizarding world as we know it, she almost killed one of my best friends! And somehow she thought it would make him like her!" he added in baffled tone.

"Has Dumbledore told your mother?" Hermione asked.

"No, and neither will I! I can't even imagine the scene it'll provoke, but I'd rather have enough warning beforehand to get on another continent. I think he's waiting for Harry to save the day."

"Well, he can keep on waiting, because I'm not daft enough to be the one to break the news to her," Harry replied fervently.

Ron gave a grunt of laughter. "That's not what I meant, but never mind. I don't want to talk about my family anymore, all right? Harry's my family. I should have listened to him in the first place."

Harry's cheeks pinked. "I'm touched and all, but you don't need to choose between us," he said. "And I really hope this doesn't mess things up. I mean, will your mom be angry with me?"

Ron shrugged uncomfortably. "I doubt it, but who knows? She's not always the most rational person on the planet. Anyhow, back to what I was saying about Quidditch: you need to hold tryouts, Harry."

"Me?"

"You're the team captain," Ron pointed out.

Harry stopped dead in the hall and exchanged a quick glance with Hermione. "You know, I don't even care if we win the cup this year—" Ron's eyes bugged out at this, but Harry spoke over his protests—"And I reckon I really have too much on my plate at the moment. I have a Dark Lord to kill, remember?"

Ron scowled in thought. "I'm not saying that's not important, it's just that I don't want to lose the—"

"Ron! You're turning into Oliver Wood all over again," Hermione told him with a slight laugh.

He unbent enough to smile at her. "It's just that the rest of Gryffindor is counting on us. It's a great distraction from Voldemort trying to take over."

"Which is what it does for Harry, too," Hermione pointed out dryly.

"Ron, you care about it. You really do—a lot more than I do. I want to win, but just now, it's not my top priority."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'll still be your Seeker, but I'm stepping down as Captain. It's time you took over and got us all back on track. We need someone competent to do that—someone who has his head in the game. That's not me."

"Really?" Ron sounded uncertain, and just a bit hopeful.

Harry gave him a broad smile. "Absolutely. You hold the tryout, and I'll even do my best to help you choose someone. But it's going to have to be your decision—I don't need the pressure anymore."

Ron grinned back. "Right. Right. I reckon a few of the third years might have what it takes…"

OoOoOoOoO

"I am firmly convinced that you could slay villages with that sexy, sexy sneer," Harry purred.

Snape attempted valiantly to keep the look on his face a sneer and wasn't entirely successful. "I'm sure that I could raze entire cities with this expression, though I highly doubt it would be in the context you're suggesting," he replied dryly.

"Sure it would. Death by orgasm, all over the place. It's the most powerful secret weapon of all," Harry told him earnestly, squeezing onto his lap.

Snape hid his amusement in his glass of Chardonnay. Potter was only drinking Butterbeer, but he'd had several of them. "Well, I'll be sure to wield it responsibly, then. I'll try it on the—on Voldemort the next opportunity, as well. You'll have to give me a back up plan in case striding up to him and saying boldy, 'Take that,' fails as utterly as I believe it will."

Harry snickered. "Oh, it'll work, trust me. Particularly if you keep talking."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just that 'Take that,' is too short. Your voice is incredibly sensual, so you'll need to really work it."

"Hmm. How about, 'I've come for you,'" Snape suggested in a low growl.

Harry shivered in his lap. "Oooo, I like that, but don't waste that one on him. That one's mine."

"Spoiled brat. Then what about, 'If you wish to live, get down on your knees and beg."

Harry twisted, giving him a rather myopic sort of soppy look. "You're only doing this to torture me, and I love you for it." Snape rolled his eyes. "I think it'd work, though. You sneer and say that, maybe order him to take detention—it'll be cardiac arrest all the way, honey. Then all you have to do is come back to a hero's welcome, and roses and girls falling at your feet, all of them screaming 'I love you!' You'd be the Beatles all over again."

Snape didn't know what the Beatles were, nor, after his fourth glass of wine, did he care. "I've often imagined the unwashed hoards screaming my name. I just always pictured it in more of a torches and pitchforks kind of way," he remarked. Harry squirmed, vicious little tempter that he was.

"I'd like to tie you up and make you read the dictionary from cover to cover—and force you to do the dirty words twice," the boy said wistfully.

"Mmm. Well, now we'll have plans for our first 'real' date, won't we?"

Harry laughed, but it was tinged with rue. "Come on, don't you want to make a man out of me? We only have a couple of days left before you have to deal with him, you know."

Snape grunted. "Aren't you a sunny little optimist tonight? Where's that Gryffindor spirit? Have I managed to chase it off? Shall I give a couple of hearty hallelujahs?"

"Stop that," Harry laughed, swatting at the man. "You want cheer? I'll give you cheer… 'cept I must have misplaced my pom-poms. Here, up you get."

Snape was glad the boy was coming out of his doldrums, but not eager to embrace any new dunderheaded plan. "What? Why?"

"Come on," Harry said insistently, tugging on his arm. "Conjure us some music, like you did that night you tried to seduce me."

"I didn't try to seduce you. I tried to intimidate you. It's truly disturbing that you can't tell the difference. And why do we need music?"

"Dance with me," Harry said. If his eyes hadn't shone so brightly, Snape might have been able to answer right away, instead of pausing long enough to give the brat a crack to lever open. "Please?"

"I don't dance."

"Sure you do. Everyone dances. Maybe badly, in some cases, but still…"

"Potter, I do not dance. I think I would know if I danced. It's not the sort of thing one does unconsciously."

"You've got two choices, big man; you can dance with me, or you can bugger me senseless. Either would be acceptable."

"You're already senseless," the man replied, stalling. Harry held out his hand to Severus, who accepted it with a sigh. "How is it that you always get me into these things?"

"Oh, yes, a bit of a spin round the floor—fate worse than death, that."

"Stop being cute," Snape told him, allowing Harry to rather clumsily lead them in a circle.

"I can't help it," the boy replied cheekily. "I was born that way."

"Insufferable," Severus grunted. "You're an awful dancer, you do realize that?"

Harry merely beamed at him in an inebriated way. "But I make up for it by being great in bed!"

Snape guffawed. "And you would know that how?" he asked.

Harry giggled a little, leaning forward to rest his head on Severus' shoulder. "Stands to reason. I mean, when I've got a great partner like you, how could I be anything but fabulous?"

Severus tenderly scooped Harry's chin up and kissed him softly. "You are the most perplexingly endearing thing, you know. On anyone else it would be disgusting. Somehow you pull it off."

Harry wound his arms round the man's neck, pulling him down into another kiss. "I know. You love me." He nuzzled close to Severus, flicking his tongue against the man's ear.

"Only because you've made it impossible for me not to love you," Severus murmured, threading his fingers through Harry's hair. Harry made a soft noise at this, and Snape smiled. Harry was very difficult to resist. He guided the boy back to the chair, pulling Harry down into his arms. Harry didn't even make a pretence of objecting. Having a lapful of warm and cuddly Potter was certainly having an effect on Snape's body, despite his resolutions.

Harry nipped his neck, his fingers, running lightly up and down the back of Severus' neck. "You want me, don't you?" he queried.

"Sometimes I wonder which one of us is more evil," Snape told him in a pained voice. He pushed Harry back so he could kiss his way up and down that slender throat, enjoying the happy little noises Harry made as he did so. He manoeuvred the boy into a reclining position, tongue dancing over Harry's Adam's apple as Severus' fingers plucked at buttons and zips.

And then Snape realized the rascal had fallen asleep on him, rather literally.

"You're a rotten little tease, you realize that?" he asked quietly. Not that he really blamed the boy; he'd been taking on a lot lately, and several glasses of Butterbeer undoubtedly added to his drowsiness. As it was, all Snape could do was smile helplessly at the youth sprawled across his lap, his lips parted, his glasses askew. "Winsome scamp that you are," he grumbled, carrying the boy off to bed. Hopefully, they'd have plenty of other nights like this one.

Snape just hoped no one else ever discovered what he had—that some perverted part of him actually enjoyed cuddling. It would certainly be the sort of thing that could ruin his reputation.

OoOoOoOoO

Harry rolled over in bed the next morning to find Snape hovering above him, a tray in his hands. "Sit up, Mister Potter. Your breakfast is ready."

Harry turned green and bolted for the bathroom, ignoring the annoyed look on the man's face. When he got back, he gazed queasily at the sausage and ham that Severus was considerately chopping into bite-sized bits for him. "I'm never drinking again," Harry said resolutely.

"And hundreds of bottles of the cheapest rotgut sigh in relief."

"Thank goodness it's Saturday."

"Mm. To be followed by Bloody Sunday," Severus commented.

"Stop being such a pessimist," Harry reprimanded, kissing him on the nose. Severus kissed Harry's nose in response. This was followed by Harry attempting to kiss Severus on the mouth, and Severus shoving him away and demanded that he clean his teeth after being sick.

"And here, not that you deserve it," he added, handing Harry a small bottle. "This will take care of the hangover."

"Wow. I've got the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world," Harry teased.

"Yes. One who will expect nightly fellatio once you're of age, mind you."

Harry laughed. "What are your plans for today?"

"I've got a few projects that need wrapping up, as well as…some mental preparation of sorts."

"It's a good plan," Harry assured him. "Everything will be fine. If it's not, I'll be the first to admit it, and apologize."

"Ah, I'm sure whatever bits of my corpse you can locate will be happy to hear it."

Harry gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he buttoned his shirt. "All right, oh hero of mine. I've got a few things of my own to wrap up, so I'll see you at dinner."

OoOoOoOoO

Harry had to search a while before he found Blaise and Colin playing chess in the library. When Colin looked up to say an enthusiastic hello to Harry, Blaise's hand snaked out, rearranging a couple of crucial pieces. Before Harry could say anything, Colin's head whipped around.

"Hey!" he laughed. "Stop cheating!"

"I wasn't cheating," Blaise insisted. "I was just… lateral thinking."

"More like horizontal thinking, in your case," Harry jibed. Zabini's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, but Harry cut him off. "I'm sorry. I was only joking," he assured him.

A sceptical eyebrow shot up. "Excuse me? I think I'm hearing things. Did you just apologise to me? Who are you and what have you done to Harry Potter?"

"Still me—for the moment, anyway," Harry said. "Look, I know we've got a certain history, but you and Colin seem really good for each other." The mousy boy flushed bright red at that, but he was still smiling. "You've been together awhile now, haven't you? How did I miss that?"

Blaise smiled wryly, but even his cheeks were lightly tinged with pink. "Potter the Preoccupied? I can't imagine. Frankly I'm shocked that you ever managed to figure it out."

Harry smiled at him easily. "That night I took the Bloodhound Brew? You smelled like each other," he said. "It did take me rather a long time to realize it, though. And then even longer to understand how you could get your scents all over each other," he admitted.

Now Blaise was really pink. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen him so discomfited. It looked good on him—a lot more real than Blaise's usual campy coolness.

"I really like him," Colin said suddenly, his voice shy.

Harry gave him a smile, as well. "I'm glad," he said. They looked good together. Happy. Harry knew he'd have to get out of there soon, before he started to get choked up. "I just wanted to thank both of you for all you've done. And I wanted to apologise to Blaise for suspecting he was a Death Eater."

"You couldn't have known," Blaise responded dismissively. "I just have that darkly sexy aura, that's all."

Harry laughed. "Take care of each other, you two," he said. They exchanged a confused look as Harry walked away, but were soon wrapped up in each other again, and didn't try to stop him. Harry was glad. Goodbyes were difficult.

OoOoOoOoO

"Hey! How was your day?"

Severus looked up from chopping onions, giving Harry a smile. The headmaster had allowed him to skip the usual dinner in the Great Hall, and had suggested Harry join him, ostensibly as a distraction from the man's worries. Severus had to admit the monkey was good for that, as long as he wasn't adding to them.

"Good. Meditated a lot. Yours?"

"Oh? Meditation, eh? Any trances? Bending yourself into odd shapes while doing breathing exercises and training yourself to be one with your surroundings, finding wholeness within and all that?"

"Hmm? No, mostly I knocked together a batch of Blood Replenishing Potions. Poppy needed them, and they're always calming to brew."

Harry laughed. "Pity. Would've thought the other rather hot, in its own way."

Severus put the chicken on. It was a lovely evening, golden and cool, with just a hint of spring in the air. Having Harry come to visit made everything that much better. As he poured the wine into the pan, Severus reflected that he could spend a thousand weekends like this; chopping vegetables, no one twinkling at him over dinner, and Harry. What a pity it would all end soon, one way or another. If he were discovered, he wouldn't live to regret it, but Severus knew that even if the Dark Lord were defeated, he could hold no illusions that Harry would want to stay with him forever.

"Put some music on, would you?" he suggested. Harry did so, picking something happy and Italian sounding. It made for a nice background, and he offered the boy a smile. "Excellent choice."

A dimple showed briefly in Harry's cheek. "I've got good influences," he replied. He came to stand behind the man at the small stove, wrapping his arms around Severus' middle and resting his head on the man's back. They stood there for a long while, enjoying the scents and the music and the company. Harry talked about his day, and his conversations with various people, including Ron, and how he'd urged him to forgive Ginny, and Hermione, to apologise for his unintended remarks concerning her virginity. Snape listened to it all without judgment.

"Here, stir the food a moment," Snape eventually said, pulling free. "I'll be right back." He went and pulled something out of his dresser drawer, glancing in the mirror a moment. He wondered what a gorgeous creature like Harry was doing in his kitchen. Shaking his head, he snatched up a comb and ran it quickly through his hair.

"Oooooh, aren't we getting swanky tonight?" his mirror said. "Must have a scorching-hot date!"

"Oh, shut up," he told it tiredly. When he got back to the kitchen, Harry was humming happily and adding rather more wine than the recipe called for. Severus sneaked up behind the boy, pulling him close and nipping him on the nape of the neck.

Harry gave a yip and tussled with him for a moment. "You scared me half to death," he complained. "How would you like it if I surprised you that way?"

"You'd never manage it," Snape said confidently. He kissed the back of Harry's neck again, feeling the youth go limp in his arms.

"That's nice," Harry breathed. "Do that again." Severus did. Harry moaned slightly.

Severus pulled away before he could lose control. "Here," he said, settling a cloak around the boy's shoulders.

Harry glanced down in surprise. "My dad's old cloak? But why? I want you to have it."

"I don't need it," Severus said quellingly. Harry kissed him, then went and set the cloak on the kitchen table beside his schoolbooks and a few other things. Snape frowned at them. "I don't mind the books, but what is that nasty metal tube thing doing on my clean tabletop? Put it away."

Harry grinned. "Yes, sir. It's just a project the headmaster and I are working on," he said, wrapping it in the Invisibility Cloak and setting it aside. Then he conscientiously cast Scourgify on the table. "There. Good as new."

They ate amidst a companionable discussion about how Dennis Creevey had joined the Quidditch team, and Severus pointed out, with relish, that Slytherin now had a good chance at the cup, for the first time since Harry'd come to Hogwarts.

"Don't count me out yet," Harry replied with a wink and a smile. "Never say die, is my motto."

Severus was amused. "I approve of your motto. If only you supported it with cautious and intelligent behaviour."

Harry laughed. "Where's the fun in that?"

Eventually, they could no longer deny that the sun had long since set, and Remus would be there soon to check in and make sure Harry returned to Gryffindor tower. Severus looked down at his clean plate, a lump forming in his throat. "You will be good tomorrow?" he asked anxiously. "Promise me."

Harry gave him a sad smile, then came around the table to give him a kiss goodnight. "I'll be better than good," he swore. "I'll be excellent."