Mature content - read with discretion

Chapter 4

What the bloody hell was that? Severus threw his hand to his forehead as he started pacing on the living room rug the moment Harry's body had left the green Floo flames. He was incensed at his body for behaving in such an undisciplined manner. Stop it, he commanded himself. This is beyond ridiculous. But, try as he might, he could not dismiss the feeling of Harry's body against his, the taut muscles as Harry had braced to fall over. And the smell – he had noticed it back on the night when Harry had cried himself out against his chest, but it hadn't had this sort of impact on him. Harry smelled of fresh-cut wood, and grass, and wind, and sun, and Stop it! he commanded himself.

Potter was attractive, there was no doubt about that. Anyone with eyes could see that, but there was no way Severus was attracted to him. That was not possible. But Severus could not deny that there had been a surge of electricity – of energy – between them as Potter had turned around and their eyes locked. What in the world was going on? Severus racked his brain. Potter had been married, had three children. He was most certainly not gay. Or was he? Severus knew many of his gay friends had married to save themselves the trouble of coming 'out of the closet', as it were. Even though it might have proved easier for him, since he was attracted to women as well, he had never found another he was interested in after Lily, so Severus himself had opted for the other option – self-imposed celibacy. And now her son, Lily's son, was eliciting some sort of…ridiculous response from him. And even if Potter were gay, there was no way – No Possible Way – that he would ever want…Stop it!

Severus stalked to his bedroom, grabbed a bottle of Dreamless Sleep Potion from his nightstand, and downed it in one gulp, flinging himself onto the bed with much more theatrics than he would have thought himself capable of– clothes and all – and hoped fervently that when he awoke, this would all be forgotten.

Harry spun through the flames and stumbled out into his living room. You Must Be Mad, he was screaming at himself. He hadn't had feelings for another man since his early adolescent years, and when he had started seeing Ginny, he had never felt them again. He was straight now, for crying out loud! But his back still seared from Severus' heat. His stomach still clenched from the intensity of their stare. He could still feel the strength of the hand around his stomach, holding him tightly, in safety. Like they had the night of the perfume. He had felt so safe in Severus' arms that night, so comforted. He hadn't realized who it was at the time, of course, but that didn't change how it had made him feel. This was…this was…unexpected, he found the word in the back of his mind.

Harry hadn't seen Severus in over a week. The morning after, the feelings had all seemed much less real, but he wasn't sure he could trust himself if he were around Severus again anytime soon, and in any event, he had no idea how Severus felt about the incident. He was sure Severus had felt something – there was no mistaking the connection that had passed between them during that stare. But Harry didn't want to ruin what the two of them had forged over many, many years – and especially over the last several months, so he decided he would wait until Severus came to him.

After two more weeks, Harry was getting antsy. He decided to call on Hermione.

"Hermione?" Harry called out of the fire into her living room. "Hermione, are you there?"

He finally heard feet coming down the stairs.

"Harry?" Ron's face appeared. "What's up, mate?"

"Hey, Ron," Harry tried to be tactful. "I have to ask Hermione about something. I really need to talk to her. Is she home?"

Ron wasn't put off – he knew Harry had talked to Hermione a lot over the past few months and that it had really helped him, so Ron nodded, and went to get her.

Hermione swirled out of the flames into Harry's living room. Harry was already sitting on the couch, holding a piece of paper in one hand.

"Harry, what's wrong – are you all right? You look…agitated." She sat down next to him and took his free hand into her lap.

"Hermione, I have a problem."

She nodded encouragingly.

"I've…I've sort of…met someone." Harry was entirely unsure of how to get through this conversation, but years of practice with Hermione left him little doubt that she would make up for his lack of finesse.

"Met someone." She repeated. "Someone you…like." She said it as a statement, not a question.

Harry nodded.

"And this is a problem because…" she prompted.

"Well, I'm worried," Harry admitted.

"Worried because you think…it's too soon? After Ginny?"

"No," he paused, "I don't think it's too soon."

"You're worried about the kids."

"No."

"You're worried other people might think it's too soon."

Harry shook his head.

"Do I know this person?" Harry could practically hear the whirring in her head.

Harry nodded.

"And, does this person know that you like them? I mean, is it mutual?"

"I'm not really sure, to be honest. We sort of started out as friends, but, we had this…moment the other night, and I felt something, but I'm not sure…" Harry trailed off.

"You're not sure if they did." Hermione confirmed.

Harry nodded.

"Harry," Hermione said with authority. "Please don't bite my head off, but…is it Severus?"

Harry's eyes flew open in shock. "What?"

Hermione sat stoically.

"I…I…" Harry sputtered, shaking his head in disbelief. "How do you know stuff like that? How?"

Hermione managed one of her trademark smiles she always wore when she was trying not to make people feel stupid or inferior.

"Harry, I've seen the way you look at him. The way you've looked at him ever since the battle was over. And what's more, I've seen the way he looks at you. You've just never looked at each other. At the same time." She sighed.

"The way I look at him?"

"Oh, Harry, even Ginny knew. She knew about all the times in school, with the other boys, before you two got together. She always hoped she would be enough for you – that she would be the one you chose. And then when Severus…when you finally learned the truth. She was so worried that she would never be enough. Harry, the attraction between you two is almost palpable. That's why he never stands closer than twenty feet to you. It drives him mad."

"Read this," Harry thrust Ginny's letter into Hermione's hands. "Read it. Is that what she meant?"

Hermione scanned the letter. She looked up at Harry, pity in her eyes. "Yes. That's exactly what she meant. She hoped that if anything ever happened to her, you and Severus would finally figure it out and do something about it."

"And you're sure? You're absolutely positive he feels this way? That…that I feel this way?"

"Harry, of all the people in this world, aside from Ginny, or Professor Dumbledore, and maybe Ron, I know you the best. In fact, I'm reasonably sure I know you better than you know yourself." She smiled apologetically.

"You're probably right," he conceded. "He hasn't talked to me…since it happened."

"Well, you know how he is – he plays things close to the vest. He's not going to do anything – you will have to make the first move. But, if what you say is true, it won't catch him by surprise." She paused, and then continued, "Well, maybe a little surprise. I doubt he knows about your other…preferences," she finished, slightly embarrassed by her lack of political correctness. "Harry, if any two people can work this out, it's you two. You're practically the same person."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "We are not!"

Hermione let out a genuine laugh this time. "Oh, Harry, for being such a great Seeker, you are really so blind!" She patted his hand, then stood up and kissed his cheek before making her way back to the Floo to go home.

Harry sat, dumbfounded, on his couch for quite a while after Hermione left. He was conflicted. How was it possible that he had not known this? That his own wife had known this – for over twenty years – and not said anything? That one of his best friends had known this and not said anything? It was mad. It was absolutely bloody mad. But Severus had helped him so much over the last several months. It was impossible to deny that there was a connection – perhaps there was something deeper than friendship – something much deeper.

Hands, sliding over his body; sweat, beading up on his chest; a mouth, kissing him everywhere, everywhere…it felt so good…like heaven…the tongue, making its way down, down his chest, toward his navel, down further, so close, he felt the tightening, the heat…he looked down at the green eyes beneath the dark hair, staring at him in the dark…

It was the third time this week Severus had woken up to that dream, hard as a rock. He reached his hands up and wiped the inevitable sweat off of his face. He picked up his watch – three o'clock in the morning. Wonderful. How enjoyable it was going to be to take a cold shower at three o'bloody clock in the morning. But he would never get back to sleep with this ridiculous hard on, so he swung himself out of bed and headed into the shower. This was getting ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous, this was completely out of control.

::

Harry had woken up from the same dream every night for the last four nights. His body, writhing under someone else's, devastated by pleasure, and not until the very end, in the seconds before he exploded and woke up wet, did he see who it was – the black eyes and long black hair, staring at him. It was a bloody brilliant dream. He had to do something about it.

"Severus," Harry called from the fire. "Severus? I have to speak to you." Harry knew Severus was there; school had already started and classes would be done for the day. He supposed Severus might have a staff meeting, but he doubted it.

"Harry Potter, sir?" Harry found himself staring at a house elf.

"Yes. Um, is Professor Snape in his quarters?"

"No, sir, the Professor is out. Would you like to wait for him inside?"

"Do you think he would mind?"

"You are a friend of the Professor and of Hogwarts. I do not think he will mind."

"All right then." Harry backed out of the fireplace and Floo'd in properly. As he spun out of the fire, he found himself face to face with the portrait of Salazar Slytherin and his snake.

"Harry," the snake hissed. "You have been gone a very long time. The Professor has not laughed since you left. He has been most quiet."

"Is he well?" Harry inquired, worried.

"Yes, and no. He talks to himself late at night – he seems…conflicted. He has not been sleeping well."

"Do you know what's wrong?"

"I think it is because you have not been here to make him laugh," Alameida said somberly. "The Professor likes you. In many ways. I saw the way he looked at you before you left. I have never seen him look that way at another. But it is the way some of the students look at each other in the corridors. The ones who hold each other's hands. And sometimes kiss."

"The students? You go to other portraits and see students?"

"I do. Sometimes I get restless."

"I can understand."

"Especially lately. The Professor has been so quiet." The snake lifted his head. "Speaking of the Professor…"

Harry turned around just as he heard the voice, low, silken, and clearly incensed, from behind him – several paces away.

"Mr. Potter, where and when have you ever been given the impression that you could invite yourself into my quarters, unannounced, and talk to my portraits?"

"I'm sorry, Severus, your house elf assured me I could wait here for you. Your snake and I were just having a pleasant conversation while I waited."

"I have business to attend to this evening. You will hopefully not be offended when I request that you please leave."

"Of course, Severus, but – could you tell me when we could find some time to talk? I really need to talk to you."

"I am not sure I will have any available time in the foreseeable future. Now please go."

Harry heard hissing behind him, but it was too soft to pick up what the snake had said.

"Severus, really, Alameida insists that you invite your guest to stay. I am inclined to support his request."

"Salazar, I do not particularly care to what you are inclined. Potter, I will not ask you again. Go. Now."

This time, Harry heard the snake loud and clear.

"Professor!"

Severus didn't need a translation for that. He huffed dramatically. "Fine! What is it you wish to discuss with me?"

"I…well…" Harry stammered.

"Spit it out," Severus ground out.

"Could we at least sit down?" Harry asked.

"Fine." Severus moved over to the sitting chair, leaving it up to Harry to choose the remaining armchair or the couch. Harry moved to the couch and perched himself on the edge of a cushion.

"Severus, I wanted to talk about the other night. When I was here."

"Well, I do not. I see no reason for you to waste any more of your time. Or mine."

"Severus, please. It's important to me that we talk about this. It's important that I don't lose your friendship. It means the world to me."

Severus stared blankly. Harry took his silence to mean he should continue. He felt his heart hammering and the birds were back flapping in his stomach. He prayed that Hermione was right.

"Well, I wanted you to know that I felt something that night. When you kept me from falling over you."

"I should hope so," Severus scathed, "otherwise you would have been feeling the floor."

"No, I didn't mean your…body. I meant after I turned around, once we were apart. When we looked at each other. And I'm pretty sure you felt it, too."

"Really, Mr. Potter? Because if I remember correctly, you did not do particularly well in Divination, and you have not – to my knowledge – ever studied Legilimency. So how could you possibly claim to know what I did, or did not, feel?"

"I just, I wanted you to know that…even though I was married to Ginny, even though we had children...I…" Harry wondered where his Gryffindor courage was at this point. "I'm attracted to men, too."

"Well," Severus replied tersely, "thank you for baring your soul to me. I feel ever so much better. Now, please leave."

"Severus, stop it!" Harry demanded. "I know you well enough to see when you use your sarcasm to mask your discomfort. I'm not some schoolboy anymore. Don't try to redirect me. And don't ignore me."

Damn it, Severus thought, he's right. And maybe if I get it off my chest the infernal dreams will stop.

"Pot – Harry," Severus shook his head in defeat. "Even if I felt what you are describing about that night, it would not matter. I do not intend to take advantage of your current situation. I do not believe it would do either of us any good."

Harry was perplexed. "My…situation?"

Severus closed his eyes and willed himself not to make a sarcastic remark. "I am referring, Harry, to the fact that your wife died less than a year ago, and that you had some serious difficulties coming to terms with that. I do not think it wise for you to enter into a…relationship…of any kind right now. Regardless of whom that person might be."

Harry stifled a laugh, "You think…I'm on some sort of…of rebound?"

"I'm not sure there is a technical term for it, but, I suppose that would do. I worry that your emotions are in no way stable enough for you to be making sound decisions about whom you become involved with. I would hate for you – or the other person involved – to wind up worse off than when you started."

"But – you're not some stranger I met in a bar – I've known you for more than half my life. And several people, apparently, including Ginny, claim there has been some sort of sexual tension between us for years. She practically begged me to realize my feelings for you once she was gone. She wrote it to me in a letter before she died."

Snape's eyebrows nearly touched his hairline.

"Really, Severus, everyone claims that's why you refuse to stand closer than about twenty feet to me whenever we're around each other."

"That…I…absurd…" Severus stammered.

"Eloquent as always," Harry replied with a smirk. "Really, are you trying to tell me you're not attracted to me? That you didn't feel the energy between us that night?"

"Potter," Severus snapped back, "even a blind man could find you attractive. It may have escaped your notice, given your penchant for self-absorption, but after fourth year, you didn't turn heads merely because of your scar."

"So you do find me attractive," Harry confirmed, feeling more confident than he had all evening. "Because I most definitely find you attractive. I always have. I've always admired you since…well, since I saw the events in the pensive during the battle. And for some reason I am not at all surprised that you find women attractive as well as men. And certainly not that you found not just my mother, but her son attractive as well. I do have her eyes."

"Stop that this instant," Snape hissed. Those eyes had made a few too many appearances in his dreams as of late. "You finding me attractive, however unwarranted that conclusion may be, is irrelevant. Even if – and I am in no way confirming anything you have spouted off tonight in what I am sincerely hoping is a fit of derangement – even if what you are suggesting is true, I firmly believe that your current situation is not in a fit state to enter any sort of new…relationship – physical, emotional, or otherwise."

"I disagree," Harry countered, and held up a hand to stem Severus' rising comment. "But I understand. If you could just tell me one thing: could we at least resume our friendship? Start spending time together again, like it was before?"

Severus took an exceptionally long time to frame his answer.

"Mr. Potter," he began, "I cannot deny that my interactions with you, most especially over the last several months, have been most illuminating and – I might even go so far as to say – enjoyable. I find myself intrigued by the fact that we seem to have more in common that I had ever previously thought. I must admit that I appreciate your coming here tonight to ease whatever…tensions…had arisen between us as a result of our last encounter. And, assuming you understand my reservations and restrictions, I would not be averse to continuing our friendship for the time being."

Harry snorted a laugh. "You could have just said yes, Sev."

He was rewarded with a glare that would have scalded a first year – and maybe even a second year.

"I'll see you next weekend, then," Harry said as he stood up. "I fancy another round of chess."

Harry had one foot in the flames when the snake hissed at him again.

"I told you he likes you."

"Yes, Alamieda, and I like him, too."