AN:2.6.13: Moving this into the Endworld Vault.
Love Lines
AN: Hey everyone, I know you're probably waiting for an update with my other work. And I am trying. But, this cute one shot got caught in my brain last night and wouldn't leave until it was written.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warning: Slash, au, slight ooc!Snape, implied sex, alcohol abuse, implied underage drinking, implied illegal teacher-student relationship
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Harry lazed sullenly on the battered couch in the parlor, his Hufflepuff sweater hanging, disheveled, over his waist. Everyone from the Order was gone for the day. All except him. Due to the incidents at the end of his fifth year he was not allowed out of Grimauld place for the summer. He picked up the bottle in his hand. Before he'd been transported to the headquarter of the Order he'd escaped Privet Drive for an afternoon and illegally bought over a hundred pounds worth of muggle liquor. It stung, and tasted funny. But it let his mind wander without dredging up his emotions. It was strange to learn that he was an apathetic drunk.
He didn't cry when he thought of Sirius or even Umbridge's punishments. He forgot about his responsibilities to the DA and he didn't care. This was his second bottle of gin this morning, and it was barely eleven. He stared at the liquid pooled at the bottom of the glass and swirled it as he thought. They were worried about him. He didn't understand why. He was perfectly fine. Sirius would find a way back eventually. He had to. He'd broken out of Azkaban to get to him, he could get out of the Veil too. His eyes flickered over to the fireplace when a gust of air hit his face. The flames flickered up before dying. And a familiar face stepped out of the shadows.
Harry observed the sooty black robes with little interest. The long hair with its oily shine from days spent with cauldrons and potions. Dark eyes set under thick brows on a sharp face. They traced the hooked nose that fit his features in a strangely handsome way. The signs of stress, fatigue and worry carved in delicate, shallow lines across his brow and around his full lips. The same lips that curled into a slight sneer at the sight of him.
"Potter," Snape acknowledged.
"Professor S-snape," Harry slurred slightly, closing his eyes lightly and leaning his head back against the worn fabric backing.
"Where's Dumbledore?"
"Dunno," Harry shrugged.
"You're drinking," Harry could hear the curve of the single raised brow in that question posed as a statement.
"Yep," He popped the 'P' with a smirk and looked back at his teacher. Snape had pulled up the old purple velvet chair with the high back so they were almost a foot from each other. Those dark eyes scrutinizing Harry's features. He wondered for a moment if he looked like hell, but he really didn't care.
"Since when,"
"'bout a week," Harry's smirk turned to a grin. "I've got nothing to do in this damn hole," The last was said with a scowl.
"You're homework,"
"Finished that," Harry grumbled. "Read through my books, finished my papers, bottled my potions. Memorized every sign from tea leaves to stars. Now I'm bored out of my flipping mind – Hey! Can I read your palms? Trelawney taught us all the basics and stuff before summer break and I finished learning with the books in the Black family library. Can I try?" Luna would be proud of him for taking such an interest in Divination at last.
"What of your own, Mr. Potter,"
"I already read mine," Harry waved off the question, sitting up and dumping the bottle of gin on the floor. "I'm supposed to meet my soul mate sometime this year, run into more trouble, suffer heart ache, then either die or live a long happy life." Snape didn't reply.
Harry grabbed his hands, admiring the long fingers and smooth skin before examining the lines. He traced the life line with his finger, running over every crease and branch. Smiling at the familiar signs and scowling at the more difficult ones.
"You're supposed to meet your soul mate in your late thirties, hmm that's about now huh?" Harry glanced up at the man who watched him with a raised brow and an icy gaze, "Your life was difficult as a child and a teen, but got better in your early adult years. There's a line here for grief and regret," Harry ran his finger over the line, "Your life line is good, it gets thin around here," He touched the spot where it almost seemed to snap, "But you'll live a long life. And if I count correctly you'll have three children."
"Impressive, Mr. Potter," Snape went to pull his hands away.
"You know when we're out of classes, you can just call me Harry," He kept a light grip on his teachers thin fingers.
"That would be inappropriate," The man said at length.
"Not really," Harry was staring at their hands. Delighting in the contrast of reclusive pallor versus his sun kissed tan. A thought raced through his half hazed mind, beginning to feel the effects of the liquor. He bent over and kissed the palm of Snape's hand. His skin tingling at the contact.
"Mr. Pot –"
"Harry," He interrupted, staring insistently into the man's dark eyes. Wondering how lost he could get in that gaze. He scoot forwards, brushing his knees against the man's, keeping Snape's hands trapped in his own.
"I believe you are drunk," The potion master began to stand, Harry rising with him.
"I don't care, I want –" Harry paused; he'd never been allowed to want things. Snape must have noticed as he sighed.
"What do you want, Harry?"
"Love," Harry muttered, looking away from the man to stare at the embroidered wall. "I just want to be loved,"
"Don't we all," The statement was shockingly cold. Harry hadn't known what to expect but, had hoped for sympathy. He squeezed the man's hands and shuddered lightly. His eyes filling with tears he thought disappeared.
"Harry," Snape seemed alarmed by the tears, he sighed and pulled his hands away silently. He hated James, and he'd thought James' son would be exactly like him. But, Harry was so different, so gentle and forgiving. Strong under all the pressure and trials they'd pushed him to. The sight of those tears, from Lily's green eyes, made his heart ache. He wrapped an arm around the teen, putting the other on top of messy raven hair.
Harry curled into the hug, shoulders shaking. Sirius was gone. Gone, gone, gone, gone. And there was nothing he could do to bring him back. And he couldn't talk to Luna who was helping her father during vacation. He clung to the potions master he never thought would try to comfort him and shook until he was empty. He stayed close to the man breathing in the scent of fire and wood smoke. He would never admit that was the smell he loved most; it was also why he tolerated potions even if he sucked at it. He sighed and relaxed into the hold as Snape's hand ran through his hair, disentangling knots as it went.
"Thank you Professor," Harry pulled away reluctantly.
"Severus," The man replied briskly.
"Prof –"
"If I'm supposed to call you Harry, you will call me Severus, out of classes," The man stared at him down his nose.
"Of course, Severus," Harry smiled shyly.
Severus stayed for a few more minutes, banishing the remains of Harry's liquor store with Harry's sulky assurance that he would quit drinking. Then he left to find Dumbledore for whatever report he had to give.
When he returned to school with Luna, Fred and George he found himself searching the teacher's tables for those dark eyes he missed. When he found Severus he waited to catch his eye and smiled. Harry was surprised but also rather happy when Dumbledore announced Snape's move from Potions master to Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. He planned to congratulate Severus before his Defense class the next afternoon. But, due to Luna's admiration of the grounds outside her common room window, he was almost late to class and unable to say anything to his newfound ally.
He spent his free time studying in the library, mainly, avoiding Quidditch practices. Harry, although pleased for Snape to finally get his dream job, was unimpressed with the hands-off professor, Slughorn, and his fame-seeking ways. When Harry wasn't in the library he was bothering Snape for potions advice and help with difficult defense spells. Granted, the potions book he was lent gave him great hints and helped profusely, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself. If he wasn't there he could be found in the astronomy tower with Luna and Trelawney practicing his divination skills. That or he was, grudgingly, participating in Quidditch practice.
Luna enjoyed his company in the astronomy tower when he stopped by to speak with her while Ginny took to following him around sometimes until Luna told her that she wouldn't find her husband for another six years. Harry had shrugged off the wails and continued with his tea leave reading.
Just before winter break Harry was sitting in the defense classroom talking with Severus about the ways to lose a werewolf if he was tracking you when Draco Malfoy burst in demanding help. For the first time in his life Harry heard Snape take points from Slytherin and give Draco detention for two days for interrupting a learning discussion. Harry mentioned it to Luna who smiled and gave him a dreamy look. When the other students left for Yule Harry became a near constant in Snape's classroom – turned – sitting – room. Severus would quiz him on potions ingredients and spells while Harry did his winter homework, sometimes asking questions about the assignments from Snape.
It was on a day like this that Harry ventured a deeper question. He'd been sitting in the window seat, overlooking the snow covered grounds of Hogwarts when the idea popped into his head. His mug of hot chocolate steaming on the coffee table before him, his book laying open and unread.
"Severus?" He asked, turning away from the freshly falling snow.
"Hm?" the preoccupied man muttered something under his breath about the ingredients.
"You like me, right?" He watched the man straighten near his cauldron and give him a 'duh' look.
"Yes, Harry, I figured that was obvious," the snide was not lost.
"In what way, though?" Harry cocked his head to the side. He liked Snape, a lot more then he used to. And he often found himself wondering what the man was thinking or doing when they were apart.
"Clarify," The man returned to his brewing.
"I mean, do you like me as a friend or," Harry chewed his bottom lip in worry, "Would you be my lover?" It still sounded incredibly blunt, but he couldn't really hedge the question. He'd been thinking for awhile about the similarities in their love lines and wondered if it was possible. Snape cast a stasis spell over the cauldron and turned to look at him. Harry found himself, again, wondering what was going on behind those dark orbs he admired so much. Wondered how Snape saw him, what he felt, what he thought about.
"Harry," The man brought a hand to his head and sighed, walking to a nearby chair and sitting down, "I – My opinions on this matter may do little to sway you. As I recall you gained your mother's stubbornness. But, it would be highly illegal for us to be lovers. Not to mention dangerous and strained."
"How so?" Harry furrowed his brows in thought. He knew about the risk. The idea that a sixteen year old could ever love a man in his thirties without being manipulated, how the public viewed such a thing. But, he couldn't stop wondering. And his thoughts over the space of the last month and a half had become darker and more sensual. Things he shouldn't think about at all.
"Harry, you're a public figure, a hero. If they every found out who your lover was it would be difficult. Such a relationship would have to be strong enough to withstand criticism like that. And I'm an ex-Death Eater. That would be politically insane, even for you." Snape's eyes were closed, and Harry couldn't help but notice how tired the Professor looked like that.
"You didn't answer my question though," Harry pointed out, "Do you love me?"
The man across from him visibly deflated. "I hoped you would give this question up," a deep sigh, "But, yes, Harry."
Harry's eyes widened, he had hoped for the answer, but it was different than hearing it said. He stood softly, padding over to the chair and took Severus' hand from his forehead. He intertwined their fingers before meeting Snape's eyes and smiling widely.
"I'm glad we agree," He whispered.
"I hope you know what you're getting into, Harry. My life is dangerous,"
"So is mine, but, I'll enjoy it while it lasts." Harry rested his forehead on Snape's. His eyes closed.
Harry continued his spring semester just as he had his fall one. He began learning more from books he took out of the library on obscure magics and spells they were not taught in school. When he visited Severus now they sat closer to each other. Snape would kiss him, sometimes, when the portraits were empty and the school was quiet. Near the end of the year Snape informed him of the Death Eater's attack that would occur and was shocked when Harry simply shrugged it off.
"I've seen the Headmaster's death in the crystal ball for several weeks now. He's always falling." Harry explained. "What will be, will be. Just as we can't change the past we can't alter our destiny. That's what Luna says, at least," He blushed lightly.
"Shouldn't you try to stop it though?" Severus looked confused.
"Oh, I'll try, but when the day comes, take me with you?" Harry held out a hand to Snape, smiling when the teacher took it in his own and kissed it softly.
"Of course,"
Harry finished his school year with his head in the clouds, wondering if that was how Luna felt all the time. It was a nice place to be, he decided. When Dumbledore called him to his office, to show him the horcruxes, Harry smiled sadly and allowed himself to go along. He did as he was told until the locket was in Dumbledore's hands and they traveled back to the school. When they arrived and Harry was hidden, he watched sadly as Dumbledore was killed, by Snape's own hands. It was supposed to be Draco, but the vision he'd seen hadn't shown the curse coming from Draco's wand, so he accepted it as he would if it had been Draco.
When he could move he ran through the halls after Snape, his spare trunk with his necessities shrunk in his pocket. He toppled into the man with a quiet laugh outside the wards and wrinkled his nose when they apparated.
Harry had never been happier. He spent his days mewling over his divination work, looking for clues. When he saw what he needed he approached Snape with a difficult question.
"Severus," He began lightly, placing his hand on the man's shoulder.
"Yes, Harry?" Severus was focused on his latest potion.
"I need you to take me with you this afternoon," He hesitated minutely.
"With me? This afternoon? Harry, I have to go to Voldemort's meeting, then." Severus looked up at him.
"Yes, I know. I'm going with you," Harry hoped his tone sounded decided or Severus would never let him go.
"Is that wise?"
"I've seen it, there's no other way," Harry smiled softly at him. Snape sighed heavily and turned back to his cauldron, shaking his head. But, Harry knew he'd won.
The manor was large. Finely polished marble that gleamed around them. Harry followed Severus closely under his invisibility cloak, standing unobtrusively behind the man's chair. The meeting started naturally, nothing out of order or strange. Until Voldemort asked for Snape's report.
"I have been barred from the Order due to the events leading up to Dumbledore's death," Snape replied smoothly, his voice and face giving nothing away. "However, I have a contact who wishes to help you infiltrate the Order. One they would never ban, or even suspect."
"Really?" Voldemort's eyes narrowed, knowing he couldn't visually intimidate Snape. "And who might this contact of yours be?"
"Me," Harry dropped the cloak into a puddle at his feet. Voldemort, startled, stepped back. Raising his wand to aim at Harry. "I am unarmed, my lord," Harry held both hands in front of him. "And I doubt you wish to destroy your own horcrux,"
"What do you want, Potter," The dark lord hissed viciously.
"I wished to inform you that I'm done with this war. I don't care if you win. I don't care what you do with the wizarding world. All I want is Severus." Harry placed his hand on the man's shoulder looking down to meet the eyes of his beloved.
"Done? You don't care? Are you saying you're forsaking the light side for a man?" Voldemort, although he'd deny it, shrieked.
"Yes," Harry slid his eyes to lock on Voldemort's. He felt the familiar pain of another mind invading his own searching for some sign of betrayal or hoax. Harry knew he'd find none. When the pain receded he continued. "I can help you defeat the order if that is the price of my freedom to live as I wish. If you would allow me to pull just one girl from the other side, my friend Luna Lovegood, then I will never betray you."
"And why should I believe you, Potter," The man snarled.
"Because I'll swear it on my magic. All I want is Luna's safety and Severus." He competed with Voldemort in a short staring match. Unsettling some of the Death Eaters in the room. Harry's hand never left Snape's shoulder.
"Fine," Voldemort hissed at last. His eyes moving to his next victim. The meeting continued without further upheaval. Harry never noticed the queasy looks of Draco Malfoy or the shock on his face. He stood by Severus until the meeting was over.
When they returned to Snape's home they shared a relaxing dinner and slept peacefully. Falling in to a familiar routine. Harry was sent to the Leaky Cauldron sporting superficial wounds to look as if he'd been kidnapped and tortured. He was the only agent under Voldemort without the Dark Mark. He met with Snape in secret once every two weeks, wishing to go home with him, but, knowing he couldn't. When the Order planned to move him to the Burrow for the rest of the summer Voldemort got his chance to destroy his resistance. Harry was swept into the waiting arms of his lover and kissed softly. Voldemort took Severus' mark away and glared at them with a warning.
"I never want to see you again," And with that the Dark Lord vanished from their sight and they were left alone.
A week later Harry sat curled up in Severus' bed, reading a book on curses and hexes that were banned from England. He chuckled at the idea of England banning a curse that turned the victim's skin blue and gave them gills, forcing them to live in water for over a month. When the door opened from the bathroom, Harry looked up to smile at his lover.
"It's my birthday, Severus," Harry set the book down on the nightstand.
"Hm, so it is," The man ran a towel through his washed hair.
"That means I'm seventeen, today." Harry added, hoping Severus would catch on. When the man didn't respond he huffed, "Severus, I'm legally an adult today."
That got the reaction Harry had been waiting for. His former teacher whirled on him with an arched brow. His lips slowly forming a cruel smirk.
"Really, now?" He purred, stalking up to the bed. Harry laughed delightedly at the sight and smiled.
"Sev," Harry began when Severus was standing next to the bed and leaning over him. "Make love to me?"
His answer was a kiss. A sweet kiss that turned demanding and hard until he was gasping for air. Harry, for the first time in his life, felt complete. Loved and happy. Accepted, at last. He enjoyed the warmth of Severus' body as they lay in the aftermath of their passion. Inhaling the scent of fire he loved so much.
"I love you, Sev," Harry whispered into the crook of his lover's neck.
"And I love you, Harry,"