Chapter 3: To Act on Every Feeling (is to be a Child)

James stared into the mirror for a long time. This was not necessarily unusual. So what if he liked to primp and preen before presenting himself to the world? What was unusual was the length of time, though his siblings exaggerated his narcissism and might disagree. Also unusual was the uncertain frown he wore, the furrowing of his brows, the searching as he examined every inch of his body. James was normally quite pleased by his reflection. He resembled his dad a great deal, people told him. Only minor inconsistencies prevailed; the high cheekbones, the hawkish nose, thin yet shapely lips gave him a distinguished look, he thought. Credit for the nose was given to a Weasley ancestor; others may have teased him for it had he not owned it so proudly. Now it was remarked upon with admiration. James stroked the offending nose lightly, trying to convince himself it wasn't the very nose protruding from Severus Snape's face. He could almost do it. His wasn't so markedly hooked. His mouth was less vicious, he thought.

The eyes, though. Those seemed the most damning evidence of all. They had always been attributed to ancestors through the Potter line, with no evidence to show for it. The night-dark irises were all too familiar in the face of his godfather. Or his father, was he?

James shook his head in denial. Albus was lying. Attention-seeking. He was only upset over finding him with Teddy. But why that lie? It didn't make sense. Why would Harry have taken a pregnancy potion to conceive with his hideous paramour? James could hardly believe such an illicit affair even took place, regardless of what Teddy said, what Teddy thought he saw. Denials rang through James's mind even as rage simmered in his belly. He barely caught sight of the tear sliding down his cheek as his fist slammed into the mirror.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

The house was unnaturally quiet when Harry arrived home. Half of the morning's groceries lay forgotten on the counter, but Harry paid them no mind as he crossed into the backyard. The boys were absent, but his girls were there. Lily was flying in circles on her broom. Spotting him, his daughter draped herself backwards, using her knees to clutch the broom and kept herself airborne. Harry forced a laugh and waved to her as she rolled the broom and came back into an upright position, seated properly. Ginny was sitting at small patio table, scratching out a draft for her next Quidditch article.

Long red hair was piled unceremoniously on her head, held up by two golden sticks. The simple, cream colored blouse she wore hung loosely on her slender frame, contrasting with the snugness of her marigold slacks. She was barefoot, legs folded in the chair, her shoes set neatly beneath. Her freckles were a bright, merry presence on her pale face; her brown eyes as warm and sweet as chocolate as they lifted to greet him. Pink lips curled into a pleased smile as he stepped nearer to press a tender kiss to her forehead.

His wife was lovely, truly. Yet he thought on the burning need that left him so dizzy earlier today, and how he had never craved her with such intensity. Anyone would think him mad to have such lust inspired not by beautiful Ginny, but by crude and homely Severus Snape. Even now, restless yearning crawled beneath his skin, too freshly stirred by his old lover.

"We need to talk," he whispered into her hair.

Her smile fell away at his tone, but she called out to their daughter, "Lily, come down now! Your father and I are going inside."

"But Mum!" Lily exclaimed.

"Now, Lily!" Ginny repeated firmly. She always used a gentler tone with Lily than with the boys. Harry wondered if she knew, if his sons ever noticed the slight difference in how their mother treated their sister.

Lily huffed, muttering under her breath as she flew down and stowed her broom away in the shed. Ginny would have fussed the boys for such a tantrum, but she only gave Lily a stern look that quieted the girl into a pout. Harry pinched her chin affectionately. "We'll fly together this weekend, just you and me, pumpkin. How about that?" Lily beamed at him, instantly cheered, bounding into the house ahead of her parents.

Harry and Ginny shared not a word as they climbed the stairs, disappearing into their bedroom. Harry shut the door and cast a silencing charm. He had a feeling this conversation would grow loud, and the children did not need to be made aware of matters just yet.

"Severus asked to see me today," Harry began, resigned. "I went. Nothing happened."

Ginny nodded stiffly, folding her arms protectively across her chest. "What did he want?"

"Albus knows. Who Severus really is," Harry explained.

Her jaw dropped, bright brown eyes wide in horror. For several seconds her mouth moved soundlessly before stuttering out, "What? How does Al know? Did Snape tell him? That bastard! It was his bright idea that we hide this to begin with!" She ranted, shock diminishing into temper. Her nostrils flared as she lifted her chin, arms falling away from her chest to gesture wildly. "He's the one who suggested I fake pregnancy, to pass them off as mine! He was too much of a coward to accept them as his own. He cared more for his peace and quiet than his responsibility!" She fumed, pacing the room, talking loudly over Harry as he attempted to interject. "I have no regrets, Harry, I don't - they are my sons whether they came from my womb or not. But for him to spill the beans like this, without a word to us, to take matters into his own hands - why? Why would he do this? After all of these years, why now?"

Harry frowned as she ranted about Severus, half wanting to defend the man, but mostly agreeing with her. Severus loved their sons, deep down, but it hadn't been enough for him to risk his reputation or his solitude. Weekly visits were more than enough for him, leaving Harry and Ginny the duty of raising them.

Ginny had never wavered, never thought twice about accepting the boys as her own. She had loved them from the start. She was right; she was their mother, regardless of blood. This was one of many reasons he loved her. This was what made Ginny the person he belonged with. She stood by him through his infidelities, willing to make their marriage work no matter how many times he fell into Severus's bed. She might shout and cry, she might stay with her parents from time to time, might throw her wedding ring across the room, but she always came back with determination. She would demand he straighten his act, and he would for a time. She would fight him every step of the way, holding him accountable. Ginny stayed through it all, willing to raise and love children she didn't bear. She was strong enough to comfort him when Severus wounded him with his words and his indifference. She set aside her gloating for a day when the wounds stung less. Ginny was the glue holding their family together. She had always been a better wife than he deserved.

That was why, five years ago, he recommitted himself to her and their marriage. He didn't visit Severus unaccompanied. He didn't let Severus get away with more than a few kisses. Harry attended biweekly therapy sessions, and monthly couple's therapy with Ginny. Their marriage was stronger than it had ever been before. He couldn't take back everything he had done, but he had striven to be a better husband to her, one who might be worthy of her devotion one day.

"Sev didn't tell Al," Harry replied.

"Then who did?" Ginny snorted, rolling her eyes. "Don't tell me you believe him."

"Why would he tell Al and not James?" Harry pointed out. "You know how Al is. He snoops. We always said he'd be an excellent detective." He smiled hopefully, but let it fall away in the face of her furious frown. James liked to argue that Albus would make a better spy, but that comparison to his other father always stung Ginny. Harry knew Ginny was thinking of just that now. "He's known for a while, Severus says. He just…I dunno…told Severus last weekend. He's…he worries if Al told him, he may tell others. It…He thinks it would be better coming from us."

"Of course," Ginny spat bitterly. "Leaving it up to us, as always."

Harry couldn't refute this, so instead he shrugged. "They are ours, Ginny. Yours and mine. It should come from us."

Her posture softened, but only slightly. "No. Harry, no. We can't. Albus can't possibly have any proof. No one would even believe it. I hardly believe it, and this is my life." She shook her head. "They'll think he's lying and we can move on. We can probably convince Al he has the wrong idea. I don't know how he found out, but he can't be sure. We worked too hard on this."

Harry sighed and sank down onto the bed, watching her pace restlessly. "Maybe this is a sign, Gin. We can't keep lying to them forever."

Her eyes flashed. "This was what you and Snape wanted, remember?"

"He's the one who - !"

"Yes, it was his idea, but you agreed with it. You helped him with his plans," Ginny reminded him.

"I never wanted to…" Harry argued, feeling his own temper rise to the surface. He never wanted his life to be this way. Honestly, he wanted Severus to be a real father to James and Albus. Even if they couldn't be together, Severus could at least acknowledge them. Severus made it crystal clear from day one that he had no plans of being a father, but Harry maintained hope that Severus would change his mind, at least be a father in private. Towards the end of his pregnancy, the man made it clear that he was very serious.

"What's all this?" Harry had demanded that day when he entered his living room. He and Ginny had just returned from an event. Upon entering their home, they dropped their glamours. Ginny's maternity dress now hung loosely on her slim body while Harry's robes were now tight around his heavily pregnant form.

It was not the presence of Severus Snape in their living room that caught them off guard. Hannah and Neville Longbottom also waited, sitting on the couch and watching Severus with bemusement. Photo albums, parchment, and books surrounded the man as he knelt before a small chest, efficiently packing away several items.

"Careless proof," Severus barked. "You're due to give birth in less than a month, Potter. You must begin as you mean to go." He pulled a photo from a nearby album and waved it for the couple to see. "How will you explain this to the child?"

Harry frowned as he approached, peering into the chest. Ginny came to his side, placing a hand on his arm as she, too, looked. Stacks of letters to the left, journals in the middle, and photos to the right. Photos of Harry, pregnant. The one Severus dropped on top was of Harry and Ginny. The couple smiled sweetly at one another as Ginny rubbed his growing belly. Ginny stiffened beside him as yet another picture was added to the pile, this one of Harry with Severus. It was a rare image, one likely snapped by sentimental Hannah. In it, the pair stood in Severus's kitchen, Severus cradling Harry in his arms, foreheads pressed together, both laughing. Harry couldn't remember what had been said, but he remembered the joy of that moment. That joy crumbled within him now, vision blurred with unshed tears.

"Oh," Harry said. Ginny rubbed his arm soothingly.

"No one is going to come across them," Ginny said. "How did you even find all of this?"

"It wasn't difficult," Severus retorted, sharply tugging another image free from a nearby album. "What happens when your family visits and peruses your albums, Ginevra? What happens when Evan stumbles upon incriminating evidence tossed negligently into a spare drawer? He would have questions. Questions you are unprepared to answer."

"Evan?" Harry muttered, absently stroking his stomach, feeling the child kick eagerly at the sound of his name. "Questions? What are you on about?"

Severus eyed him. "Are you honestly this thick, or does your wife get off on your stupidity?"

"About as much as Harry gets off on being tormented, I'm sure," Ginny said dryly, taking Harry's hand in her own, standing tall at his side.

"What would you know about getting Harry off, Ginevra?" Severus replied coolly.

"I'm his wife," Ginny growled through clenched teeth.

"Yet, after all of these years you're not pregnant. He, however, is…and with my offspring, for that matter," Severus said smugly.

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded again, loudly, before either could continue their sniping.

"I am warning you to hide these mementos lest your progeny uncover the truth of his parentage," Severus explained, as to a child.

"Oh," Harry said, at a loss for words. His mind was blank, ice dropping into his gut. Ginny gave his hand a light squeeze, keeping him grounded. "Right. Can't have that."

Up until then, Harry only assumed they would be hiding the truth from the world at large. He never considered keeping the secret from Evan, as well. That was when it became real to him. He sat numbly on the couch to let Hannah perform her examination spells. Ginny sat beside him, always touching a shoulder, or his back, or his leg, reminding him of her support. Harry watched Severus work while Hannah spoke. The baby was healthy, growth on track, and he would be here before they knew it. Severus muttered about their foolishness all the while. "…waited too long to employ the glamours…lucky the potion isn't public yet…no one thought twice about your extra weight…"

In the days that followed, Severus popped in frequently to check their house top to bottom, to be sure he didn't miss a scrap of evidence. Anything remotely incriminating was sealed away in the chest now tucked away in the attic. Harry said not a word to him for the remainder of his pregnancy. When the man would leave, he would rant to Ginny about how Severus never cared for Harry or Evan or for anyone but himself. The git only visited to keep an eye on them, to protect his precious secret. What had he ever seen in the bastard, anyway? Ginny always listened, happily agreeing with every insult aimed towards the man.

When he finally went into labor, Ginny firecalled Hannah and Hannah only. His wife was pleased when he demanded Severus not be alerted. Ginny held his hand as he labored, murmuring encouragement, and it was Ginny who sat by his side, smiling down at the babe in her arms, radiant with a mother's love. "Hi there, Evan."

"James," Harry corrected, resting his head on her shoulder to gaze down at his newborn. The boy already had tufts of wild black hair, and what promised to be Severus's unfortunate nose. "His name is James Sirius Potter." It did not have the ring to it Evan James did, but they were names that mattered to him. Evan had been Severus's choice, named for Harry's mother. For her maiden name. Harry's mother, who Severus had loved, if he was capable of loving at all. Harry shared his mother's eyes, and he wondered if they were all Severus had seen when buried so deeply inside of him, gaze intent on his own, never wavering. Was it Lily Severus thought of when spilling himself inside of her son?

No. Severus wanted no part of Evan's life, so why should he have a say in his name? James for Harry's father, Sirius for his godfather; it made sense to give his son the names of the two most important men in his life. A more vindictive side of Harry cheered, agreeing that they were also the names of the two men that had given Severus hell. More than anything Harry was hurt, wanting no part in the name Severus helped create. For the first time in a long time, Harry believed he would never want anything to do with the bastard ever again.

It was weeks before the Potters announced the arrival of James Sirius. Only when it was reported in the Prophet did Severus learn of his son's birth and his new moniker. He stormed their Godric's Hollow home in a rage. That had been a spectacular fight, ending only when Ginny shouted at them that they were disturbing the baby and should keep it down. For all of the man's anger, Harry could sense the hurt beneath. Severus had missed the birth and had not seen his son once in the week since. Not to mention the gall of Harry to give their child that particular name.

Harry shook his head to dispel the recollection. He had never wanted this lie, but he had allowed it; allowed it to entrap them all, with seemingly no way out. It was easy, this lie. Easier than living with the truth. Everyone accepted the lie. It was the life they'd expected to see for the Potters. A happy, beautiful couple with three happy, beautiful children. The lie held his marriage together. The lie protected his children, for Harry could only imagine what attention would be directed at them if the truth was known. It protected his sons from the painful knowledge that the man who sired them had little interest in them.

Ginny, too, appeared lost in her own thoughts, blinking rapidly as she came back to the present. "You let it come to this, Harry. You could have told him no. You didn't have to let him have his way. You both thought it for the best. Don't deny it. You always wanted a normal life. And being my husband, and those being my sons, was a hell of a lot more 'normal' than anything you could have had with Snape. You also know you could never have the life you want with him, because he would never allow it."

Her voice cracked here and she turned away from him. Harry's breath caught in his throat. He hurt for her, and the pain he caused her. "Ginny, no. You know I love you."

"You love me?" she laughed. "I want to believe you. Most days I do. But I have to wonder if you even know what love is. Because this? This isn't love."

"I do love you!" he argued, reaching out for her, grasping her shoulders and turning her towards him. "I swear, Ginny, I do love you." He did, he really did. It might not be the same love he had for Severus, but it was love. "I don't want to fight with you. I came to tell you what I learned because you are my wife, and you are the mother of my children, and this is a decision for you and me to make. No one else."

"Then why did you come in here spouting Snape's demands, hm?" she said. Her mouth was open, prepared to unleash a new tirade when there was a banging on the door. Before either could move, the door burst open.

"James?" Ginny said.

"I can't believe you," James said, voice trembling. "You lied to us!"

"Oh no," Ginny whispered.

"James," Harry said.

"Shut up!" James shouted. Albus appeared in the doorway, face pale, staring at his brother in horror. By contrast, James's face was red and wet with tears. His glare was all for his dad. "Snape is our dad? Is it true? Is it?"

A gasp from Lily as she entered the scene, gaping from one person to the next. "What?"

Harry turned to Ginny. His wife was hugging herself, watching her children with sympathy. They weren't prepared for this, hadn't had a chance to discuss how to handle this. Now she wouldn't even look at him. Harry sighed heavily and faced his oldest son. "Yes. He is."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" James shouted. "Him? What about Mum? You cheated on her, did you?"

He hesitated only a moment before nodding his head. It hadn't been cheating when James was conceived, but it had eventually come to that. "That's right."

"With Snape of all people?" James demanded. "Mum's pretty! And she's really nice, and…and good at Quidditch, and…she loves you! Why wasn't that enough? Why him? He's an ugly, mean, old git!"

"That's…complicated," Harry explained, glancing guiltily to his wife. Her head was bowed against the pain.

"And you!" James shouted, jabbing his finger towards his mother. "Why did you stay with him? Don't you have any goddamn self-respect?"

"Do not speak to your mother like that!" Harry shouted, grabbing his son's wrist and shoving his arm down. James was still glaring at her.

"You lied to us, too!" he accused. "Why? You didn't have to lie for him! He's a cheating sod who doesn't deserve a damned thing from you! Where's your pride, woman?"

"That is enough!" Harry barked as Ginny barked, "I am your mother and you will speak to me with respect!"

"You are not my mother!" James sobbed. "All I have is a genetic link to two scumbags!"

"That is enough!" Harry roared. "Go to your room until you can calm down!"

"No. I'm out of here," James said, shoving Harry hard. He spun on his heels and shoved past his siblings out of the room. Lily's hands covered her tear-streaked face. Albus stared after his brother's retreating form. Harry moved to follow his oldest son, but Albus moved to stop him.

"Let him go," Albus said. "Let him calm down."

"You told him?" Harry snapped.

Albus frowned, looking guiltily to his feet. "Someone had to."

Harry was prepared to unleash his bubbling emotions on the nearest target, when Ginny spoke. "Leave him alone, Harry. The damage is done. Don't make it worse."

"Daddy, how could you?" Lily sobbed, sprinting past him into her mother's arms. Albus darted from the room before Harry could start in on him again. Harry looked after him, then helplessly back to his wife and daughter.

"Get out," Ginny mouthed to him over Lily's head.

Harry wanted to go to them, to hold them, to make it right. In one afternoon his perfect life had shattered, laying in shards around him, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Well. One other person could share in this. Harry would make sure he did.

It was bad form to Apparate directly into someone's house, but James was not in his right mind when leaving home. Victoire gasped in surprise to see him, dropping the glass of wine she'd been sipping while cooking dinner. "James!" she fussed, a flick of her wand mending the broken glass. She frowned when she got a good look at his face. "James, what's the matter?"

His cousin had not been the person he sought, but naturally she would be present in the house she shared with Teddy. He couldn't bear to look at her, after what he'd done. Victoire set aside her glass and promptly enveloped James into her arms, making soothing sounds as he sobbed into her neck.

"I didn't know where else to go," James whimpered, clinging to her.

"That's quite alright," Victoire whispered, stroking his hair. "You're always welcome here."

Though it was initially Teddy he sought, it was Victoire's welcome he now wanted. Would she still welcome him if she knew he'd kissed Teddy? If she knew they weren't really cousins? The truth was a dirty thing. No wonder his family worked so hard to cover theirs. This thought only made him sob harder, barely able to stand.

Worse still when a warm, solid body pressed in from behind, strong arms wrapping around James and Victoire both. Worse that his presence stirred James's soul even now. James squeezed his eyes shut, barely daring to breathe. Too late now to turn and run.

"What happened?" Teddy asked quietly.

"He won't say," Victoire whispered.

"I didn't know where else to go," James repeated, relaxing in their comforting embrace. He couldn't bear to rehash everything he had learned. He couldn't admit the shame of what he had said and done this day. All he had known, all that he was, it was all a lie. The very fabric of his reality was torn and frayed beyond recognition. James didn't know who he was anymore, or where to go from here.

However soothing their hugs and their words, neither Teddy nor Victoire could mend him.

Possessing more tact than his brother, Albus firecalled the Malfoy residence for permission to visit before Flooing in. Draco was calling for his son when Albus stepped into their sitting room, portraying more calmness than he felt. He was on the verge of unraveling, and he was unsure if he wanted to fall apart or hold himself together. Whatever his choice, this was the only safe place left to do so.

Draco frowned at him with concern. "Good afternoon, Albus."

"Sir," Albus said stiffly. Not daring to say more, lest he say too much. The slightest of prompting was all it might take. Even now, he didn't know if he dared share what he knew. Already the consequences of revelation were crashing down upon his family, and it was only within the family for now.

Scorpius scampered downstairs, swiftly entering the room. "Al!" Scorpius called cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Malfoy, is it alright if I stay the night?" Albus asked, tone carefully blank.

"Of course," Draco agreed, inclining his head. "Stay as long as you need."

"Er…c'mon, then," Scorpius said, leading Albus up to his bedroom. Neither spoke until the door closed them off from the world. Albus breathed, then, and flopped down onto his best friend's bed. It was a large bed for one person, let alone one so lanky.

It worked well for sleepovers, though Draco normally set him up in a guest room. Always he and Scorpius shared the large bed, pulling the hangings closed like at school. This was grander than their dormitory, though. The Malfoys came from old money, and a prestigious name. The room hardly looked lived in, though Albus knew the closet and drawers were full to the brim with knick-knacks and sentimental items. One full drawer contained objects belonging to his late mother.

This house had always been a curiosity to Albus, who even after numerous visits had yet to grow bored of the mansion. Scorpius swore there were Dark objects and family heirlooms hidden about, though neither boy had ever found any. This intrigue held little interest to Albus this day.

"I could use a distraction," Albus said. "I don't want to think right now."

"Well…I might have something for that," Scorpius said with a sheepish grin. He pulled a box from beneath his bed, liquor bottles and potion phials clinking enticingly. Albus perked up. "I was hoarding them until you could visit again, and…well…here you are." The box was set on the mattress as Scorpius climbed up beside him. Unicorn tears, firewhisky, pixie mucus, mead…Albus reached inside, shifting the bottles into some semblance of order.

"Excellent haul, Scorp."

Ginny held Lily close, mother and daughter laying side by side in bed. Lily had stopped sobbing a time ago, though she still sniffled, and the occasional tear slid down her blotchy face.

"Jay and Al are really Uncle Sev'rus's kids? With Dad?" Lily whispered.

"Yes," Ginny agreed numbly.

"Are…are they in love, do you think?" Lily asked.

Ginny didn't respond for a long moment. She thought of the possessive fire in Snape when he looked at her husband. She thought of her husband's hopeful perk whenever the other man was near. Lust, on one end. On the other? After all of these years, she felt the dull ache of knowledge her heart possessed that her mind refused. Pondering these things, Ginny wiped Lily's tears and pressed a kiss to the girl's head.

"Your father loves us," Ginny assured her. "You, your brothers, and me. Anything beyond that is…complicated." Lily snuggled closer and hiccuped.

"He's…not going to leave, is he?" Lily asked.

Ginny swallowed. "Of course not. He'll never leave us." It was the only thing Ginny knew with certainty. Harry would never leave his family. Not unless she made him.

Harry stood outside of Severus's door, head pressed against the wood as he banged on it for the third time. Finally he heard approaching footsteps, and straightened in time for the door to creak open. A sheen of sweat on the man's face gleamed in the moonlight, and he stank of potion fumes. Harry swayed, wanting to press himself into that flat chest and breathe him in. He was wrecked, unsure he could cling to his tattered self-control.

"Back so soon?" Severus sneered.

"I need a drink."

Hesitation lasted only a handful of seconds. It had been many years since the last request of its kind. Harry had quit the bottle before he'd quit Severus's bed.

"For a 'please' you may pick your poison," Severus agreed, stepping aside to welcome him in. Harry walked into the middle of the living room, murmuring a quick spell to the light the fireplace. He stared into the orange flames, too aware of the figure hovering behind him.

"Please," Harry whispered, wishing it didn't sound so needy, didn't sound like he wanted anything other than a drink. Severus moved closer, his front brushing Harry's back teasingly. Long fingers settled at his hips, mouth breathing against his ear.

"What do you desire?" Severus purred.

Harry turned his head, breath stuttering as a shiver rolled down his spine. That silken voice had always undone him. Now Severus's lips were not even an inch from his own. Harry could recall the taste of them, more destructive and addicting than firewhisky had ever been. They breathed the same air. Harry was tempted to close the distance. Why not? His marriage was in shambles. His family hated him. If his family was broken, why not surrender to what he'd denied himself these past five years? He touched himself more often than he could count with that darkly delicious voice rumbling in his fantasies. How often had he struggled to banish midnight's stare as he made love to his wife?

Severus's grip tugged him closer and Harry tilted his head away so that Severus instead mouthed along his jaw. Too long since he'd felt the heat and fullness inside of him, a feeling his fingers could never replicate. He could have that. Severus was hard where he ground against him and his own manhood stirred with interest. What did he have to lose?

A lot. He hadn't actually lost anything yet. His family was rightfully upset. That did not mean they were a lost cause. It might take time and effort, but it might be mended yet. It did no good to cross this line if he could still save what he had.

"I shouldn't have come here," Harry whispered, stepping out of Severus's grasp. The man huffed disdainfully.

"Then why did you?"

Harry rubbed a hand over his face, glasses pushing up into his hair as he did so. Severus plucked them off before they could fall.

"They know. They all know."

"Hmm," was all Severus said, summoning the firewhisky and pouring him a glass. Harry didn't look at the man as he accepted the drink.

He didn't need to. He could feel the heat of that gaze, trailing down his spine like a caress. That ravenous consideration, as if Harry were a feast and Severus was determining where to start. Anywhere, he could start anywhere, and Harry could let himself be devoured gladly. Let Severus take what he wanted, use him how he saw fit, because that hunger gnawed in his own gut. Hunger that could be satiated in only one way.

Harry gulped down his firewhisky, the liquor sloshing down his neck in his haste. "Don't look at me like that," he rasped. "We can't."

Cool fingers rubbed the back of his neck, Severus shifting ever closer. Harry sighed, melting back into him even as he grasped his glass in both hands, clinging to some shred of control, to stop himself touching as he pleased. "Don't delude yourself into thinking there's anything left for you there," the man purred.

"Please. Don't," Harry warned, shrugging away from his touch.

Severus scoffed in disgust, slamming the bottle down onto the nearby table. "Why do you insist upon hiding here only to torment us both?" he demanded, pain mingling with his frustration. It was not often Severus hinted at his deeper feelings for Harry, particularly since Harry ended their affair for good. It wasn't right, what Harry did, and he knew it. Everyone was hurt by his actions. Even stone-cold Severus Snape. And it was Severus who always got the raw end of the deal. Harry hated himself for this, watching sadly as Severus stiffly walked away from him.

"Why do you let me?" he asked quietly.

Severus said nothing, did not look his way. Instead he sat in his usual spot, nursing his own glass of firewhisky. Harry poured himself a new glass and stared at the fire as they drank in silence.