He was beautiful when he cried. He'd always thought it. Even when he was a boy. It was something in the way he carried himself, still dignified in his grief, he never let himself fall into hysterics or the ugly bawling that led to red cheeks and running noses. Instead he would stand, a constant stalwart, with crisp trails marring his cheeks.

Severus had only ever caught him like this a few times, but each time was enough. To remind him of how human he was, that despite best efforts of the ministry, he was no machine, he was flesh, and blood and emotion.

He was precisely where he'd expected to find him, carefully he glanced at his watch, and it was nearly time. He stayed back and watched as Harry quietly pulled the petals from the flower in his hand, fingertips running over the velveteen softness before they cast them into the breeze, watching them fall into the sky. It was quiet, and respectful, watching Harry mouth his name as he held a hand to his heart. A tribute to the last fragile link to his past that was shattered in a dawn raid five years ago today.

It was hard, Severus knew, to lose everything.

"I still talk to them sometimes." Harry said softly without turning, he always knew when he was there. "I know it's a bit silly, but it helps sometimes. At night mostly." He turned then and smiled gently at Severus, such purity and pain mixed together made his heart ache. "What about you."

Severus merely shook his head. Harry knew he had no one to talk to, not in the next life.

"You're right." He looked back over towards the forest and where the trees met the shore of the lake. They were quiet for a while, each lost in their thoughts, listening to the sounds of the castle waking up around them, early morning shouts from the tower as the students fought each other to get in the shower before breakfast.

"It's been five years Severus." A sentence weighted with such depth and tiredness. As though each second since then had added another band around his heart.

"I know." He said softly.

Harry's face fell slightly, a brief flicker of anguish and a fresh tear spilt upon his cheek. "I thought it was supposed to get easier." He muttered. "I thought it wasn't supposed to hurt this much." His voice cracked and he let himself lean for support on the balustrade, his head shaking back and forth in disbelief that such a pain could still exist so freshly in his heart after all this time.

Severus stepped forward and ran his hand across Harry's shoulders, noting the slight tremble. He said nothing, they'd been over this a thousand times but it never got any easier for him. He sighed quietly, wanting nothing more than to help but knowing there was nothing he could say or do to help Harry.

He hated this. Hated this dependence he had on him, the constant need to see him, to hear him laugh, to watch him work. It was all consuming. Everything he thought of.

It was becoming ridiculous, it was affecting his work and he was damned sure that Albus had an idea about it. Even now, all his thought was filtered through his tremulous contact with his colleagues back. He had to do something.

More than anything he had to know.

Had to know what those looks meant, the little touches, the slight nuances and changes that had been growing in number for months. He hadn't really dared to hope. Actually he had, but he'd never dare believe that any sort of truth could come from them. In fact, the thought almost scared him, having only ever kept these feelings within himself, a guarded secret that he vowed to never tell. What would people think?

He was well aware of his reputation in some circles. It was common knowledge now of his participation during the war, and no matter how many times he'd been advocated, society still seemed to snag on the words Death Eater. It was strange, he knew, for people to see him now as some sort of hero, as a changed man, and more importantly, primary confidant of the boy saviour. It angered many people, families of convicted Death Eaters had actually hired hit men before; there were constant calls for his sacking from the school.

Even now he could feel the scars prickling on his wrist from where he'd tried to cut the mark away. He remembered the occasion with crystal clarity.

It was the moment he fell.

When he'd sat alone, with knife in hand and slowly, deliberately pressed it into his skin, pulling it through his flesh and watching as it parted around the metal, his blood colouring the desk as it dripped in a slow and steady pattern. He could remember being surprised at hearing the door open but not enough to try and hide what he had done. He could still see, even now, the look on Harry's face. He hadn't been angry, or repulsed, he'd held his head cocked, such a curious expression.

He'd cried then too. As he'd held his hand so gently in his and cleaned away the blood as they both sat in silence. Harry had never asked why he'd done it, never really seen the point.

He felt the body beneath his hand shudder, bringing his focus back to the present, back to Harry who silently cried.

And then suddenly he was in his arms, his long, lithe body pressed up against his own, face burying against his shoulder and hands flexing in the folds of his robes. Severus stood shocked, unprepared for such an encounter and hardly believing his luck. He quickly slammed that chain of thought. Harry was upset, was looking to him for comfort and all his lecherous mind could come up with was that. Slowly, almost hesitantly he brought his own arms up and around, enfolding the shaking man within the confines of his heavy robes.

"I'm sorry." Harry mumbled, his voice pitiful from where it emerged, muffled, by his neck, his voice thick with emotion. "It just hurts so much, knowing you have no one, that I'm alone in this world. It gets harder every day."

"You have us." Severus whispered softly into his hair.

"I know, and I'm so grateful, believe me, but sometimes I just want to see them. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." It was the best he could come up with, he didn't know what to say. What could he say? What Harry had said was true, every last little link to his past, to his family was gone, of course he still had friends, people who remembered them, but it would never be as good as having them back. He sighed himself and allowed a moment of weakness, to close his eyes and rest his cheek atop the unruly mop of hair as Harry clung to him. He would have done anything in that moment to make him happy, to see that smile upon his face, but there was nothing that he could do to bring them back, to mend Harry's heart. So instead he held him tighter, allowing him the time he needed to cry upon his shoulder in the safety of his arms.

They stood like that, the two of them, for some time, with Severus wishing it were another place, another time, until the sound of children thundering through the corridors on their way to breakfast made them see sense of the time. Harry stepped back minutely, allowing space between them to bring a hand up and wipe his eyes with the back of his black and white striped sleeve. He smiled weakly up at Severus whose hands were weighted comfortably upon his shoulders.

"I'm sorry." Harry said again, a faint blush highlighting his cheeks.

"Don't be." Severus said quietly, captured by the vision before him. He really was beautiful, and it was so hard, when Harry looked up at him like that, with barely an inch between them so that each breath mixed in the air and something sparked between them, when those green eyes softened, searching within his own for something imperceptible, and those slim, tanned hands were flat against his chest so that they pressed enticingly against him when Harry leaned forward just a bit, no more than a fingers breadth apart, and the wind picked up, making it unbearably beautiful the way that his hair mixed with his own, tangled in an unknown dance.

And then all at once it was shattered. The long, low tolling of the breakfast bell echoed through the castle. Harry rocked back, his eyes suddenly everywhere but on Severus, hand going back to wipe at his face once more. The sudden space between them was almost more than Severus could bear, feeling like his soul was being stretched out between them and that as soon as Harry turned as he knew he would, then it would shatter and break, falling to the floor in a thousand unmendable pieces.

"You should go." He found himself saying. "You'll need to eat before the game."

Harry nodded, wiping at his uniform as the breeze ruffled it. It was a beautiful day for a match, today would decide who went to the final and although Harry couldn't say, he was really hoping that Gryffindor made it.

"Will you come and watch?" Harry asked him, his eyes suddenly wide and serious, as though the question actually meant something else, as though the answer were very important to him.

"Of course." Severus replied, "And Harry?" This was it, "Do you mind if I came and talked to you later." His heart felt like lead within his chest, "There's something I want to say."

"Like what?" Harry asked, curiosity written plainly across his almost stricken face.

"It's nothing, just…something, I'll tell you later." He tried to make it sound casual, but he could tell by the look on Harry's face that he had failed.

"Is it important, just tell me." He sounded quite insistent.

"Later, I promise." Harry's started to speak but was cut off, "I'll just put you off your game. I promise I'll tell you later."

Harry said nothing more, it being obvious that Severus wouldn't tell him anything right now, but even he could tell that it was something important to him, especially after….whatever that was. Even now he could still feel his heart thudding against his chest, couldn't actually believe that he'd come that close, couldn't believe that he'd wanted to go further. His mind was still spinning, still trying to make sense of all the thoughts that were cascading through his mind. He'd wanted that, wanted more, and had done, he realised now, for a long time.

Severus could only watch as Harry floundered, wondering what was going through his mind. It couldn't be bad, he supposed, because he hadn't run yet.

The door at the end of the balustrade opened and professors Flitwick and Sinistra ambled out along the walkway, truly ending their surreal encounter.

"Morning boys." Sinistra purred, pulling that flirting face she always used among friends. "Hope the game goes well today Harry." She lightly touched his shoulder as she went past and waved at Severus who did nothing more than stare until they had left.

"I really should be going then." Harry muttered to his boots, "But come by later, yeah?" he looked up hopefully.

Severus nodded, liking the way that dread was turning to hope. And even as Harry turned to leave, looking back once to flash a quick smile at him, he could feel an definite happiness building in his chest that he was damned if he was going to quell.

Feeling more anxious than he ever had done in his life, he left to return to his office, hoping to get the last stages of an experiment out of the way before the game, hoping like hell that it would be a short one.

Hindsight would prove to be a beautiful thing, because the game was short, but he should have been hoping for a safe game.

But even hindsight was failing him now, as he clung to the memory, it slipped a little more, he became aware of an odd pain, like fire prickling up his back and conscious of another voice.

IVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVI

"…and I don't know what he thought I'd make of it. I don't even know what I make of it."

Harry settled again into silence, his shoes kicked off and feet propped up on the bed. It was disturbingly hot in the small room, he'd cracked the window a little but drawn the curtains so that they were shaded a little. He'd been there for nearly two hours now, even the nurse had come in and asked if he'd wanted a drink and looked a little despairingly at his feet on the fresh linen. But he'd seen her off with a smile.

It was a good catharsis, talking to someone who couldn't answer back, and Harry had been over all the topics that had been bothering him. He'd even talked at length about his burgeoning feelings for the other man, glad to just talk things over, some things sound better when they're said aloud.

But he felt like he was going crazy. Since he had walked in the room, something feral curled in the pit of his stomach had woken and started to crawl around. It was undeniable now. And so god damned ridiculous. He'd spent a good twenty minutes at the window with his fists in his hair trying to calm his emotions and reason with himself. Apparently what he felt was much more than he'd previously thought. It was insane, he'd thought, his head against the window, making patterns in the fog his breath left on the glass. Seriously, how was it possible to feel so much for someone you didn't know?

He stood again, taking in a heavy breath and stalking around the small room. He wiped a hand over his tired face and went back to the window. What was more annoying was that he'd been able to be rational with himself. He had reasoned that, yes, it was entirely possible, could see it himself how he could have fallen for him. Had seen that much for himself during the short time they had spent together, their conversations more lax and jovial, and his snatched memories, just more evidence.

He was about to embark on another train of thought that would only travel down the same tracks as all the others when he heard an unexpected noise behind him. He turned smoothly, looking around for its source. One of the machines took on a higher pitched beeping sound. Harry rounded the bed and dragged the chair closer to the side of the gurney. Was he waking up?

"Severus?" Harry peered at him closely, eyes flickering from the machine to his face. "Severus? Are you awake?" he reached out, placing a hand over his.

The air was heavy and tense, and Harry began to wonder whether he'd heard anything or not when a faint flicker ran across Severus' face. "Severus?" He pressed on his hand lightly, "Wake up."

Whether or not Severus heard him, or whether he was just good at circumstance Harry didn't know, but he couldn't help feeling a rush of relief when black eyes opened, blinking rapidly against the light.

Harry sighed and smiled, his other hand reaching over and brushing back his hair. "Hey." He whispered. "You had us all worried." He looked him intently as confusion ran across his face. "You're in the hospital." Harry provided, saving him from asking, "You got caught in the fire and it took them some time to get you out." He felt fingers tighten around his own and watched as he pressed his eyes shut.

"Hurts." His voice was rough and dry, but it sounded beautiful to Harry.

"I know." Harry whispered, "I'm sorry."

The machine beside him starting beeping loudly, it's alarm pinging too loud in the quiet room, and it wasn't long before an assembly of doctors and nurses burst into the room, pulling Harry away from the bed and shoving him towards the back of the room. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

One of the nurses looked up from where she was hooking up a new drip. "It's nothing, some people just have an adverse reaction when they regain consciousness. It's a bit of a shock to the system."

She squeezed the bag in her hands, forcing the new liquid through the tube.

"Mr Potter?" Harry looked at the doctor, "Could you wait outside for a moment?"

Harry was a little shocked but he nodded dumbly, straining his neck to try and see around the nurses as they saw to Severus, but he was gently guided out of the room and the door was closed behind him leaving him to stare at it blankly and wonder how he ended up out here. He looked up and down the corridor and around to the nurse's station.

"Excuse me?" he said to the nurse who was busy writing furiously on a patient chart. "Will he be okay?" he thumbed over his shoulder, his voice shaking. "I mean, it's not serious is it."

The nurse looked at him blankly, "I'm sorry," She said, "I couldn't say." And went back to writing out her notes. Harry spun around and faced the door, pressing a hand over his mouth. Why had they asked him to leave, he was doing fine wasn't he? The corridor was suddenly busy, porters pushing beds along looked at him in annoyance as he dodged them, nurses asked him in their ever polite way to move and Harry became aware that he was doing a very odd sort of dance. He dodged another wheelchair and made it safely to the other side of the corridor where there was a row of chairs which he deposited himself on.

He watched the clock. And he watched the door.

Several times the staff went back and forth but none of them would stop when Harry asked. He was beginning to think something really bad had happened and that Severus was in there alone when finally, forty five minutes later, a nurse appeared and told him that he could go back in, provided he did nothing to stress her patient.

He waited a moment whilst the others vacated the room before he stepped back in. At least he looked more comfortable, propped up on his back, but Harry couldn't help but think that it must be killing his back. He could see now that the damage wasn't just confined there. A series of bandages were taped securely to his chest, reaching beneath the sheets. But at least he was awake, and he looked pleased to him.

"Harry?" A faint smile ghosted across his lips and Harry was at his side in an instant, sitting on the side of the bed and taking hold of his hand tightly to reassure himself that he was really safe.

"My God, you had us all worried. What the hell did you think you were doing?" He couldn't help it, lashing out in his relief.

"You were still in there." Severus said simple, as if that were all the explanation that he needed. He breathed in heavily, the air rattling in his lungs.

"How do you feel?" he asked sadly, eyes roaming his beaten body.

"Agony really." He gasped out, "But they've given me something that helps. S'quite good actually." He looked up at the clear bag. "I could probably make something better though."

Harry laughed despite himself.

"We didn't expect you to wake up for quite a while yet." He said softly, "They gave you a lot of sedatives to help you recover."

"Well, I'm sure I would have been out longer had I not had someone rambling to me." He looked at Harry pointedly.

Suddenly Harry's stomach felt as though it had left his body altogether. Severus had heard him, had heard him talking about everything, about how he feels.

"Er…" he stumbled, unsure of what do say, "Well, I didn't mean to wake you. I didn't think I was that loud." He looked down at where his hand covered his, thinking that if he snatched it away now it would be too obvious and he couldn't fight the rise of the blush on his cheek.

"Well I'm sure you can wake anybody up with your vitriolic diatribe about dark lords and headmasters." He smiled faintly. "That's where I came in." Harry looked at him, a small crease on his brow, "I can tell by that delightful colour on your face that you were talking about something else."

That made Harry blush all the more.

"I've had a rough couple of days." He explained.

"Tell me." Harry's heart pulled at hearing Severus so ill so he told him, told him the long version that he had already told him whilst he was sleeping, leaving out the obvious. And Severus listened, eyes closed and breath laboured, occasionally twitching his hand to let Harry know that he was still there, but eventually he ran out of things to say so they sat in silence for a long time until Harry told Severus that he was going to let Albus know he was awake to stop the man from worrying. Severus had let out a groan at the idea of an enthusiastic headmaster being in the room but had let Harry go.

Albus had been very excited when Harry had finally gotten to a fire (Disturbingly hard to find!) and had promised to be there as soon as he could and had mentioned something about bringing a box of toffee.

When he went back to the room Severus was wearing a contemplative look and staring out the window.

"Albus said he'll be along shortly." Severus winced a little at the news. He sat back down in his chair. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Severus said listlessly, "Just something I remembered."

"What?" Harry was curious.

"Just something that happened before the match, before you got hit."

"What? What happened." He leaned forward in the chair.

"I… came to ask if I could see you after the match. I needed to tell you something." He looked over at Harry, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. "But I didn't get to see you."

"So tell me now."

Severus shook his head and looked back over to the window. "Not yet, not for a while."

"Why."

"I don't think you're ready, after what's happened."

"Well, try me." Harry hoped he sounded sincere.

"You'll remember." His words held such weight, as though he didn't believe them himself. As though it hurt to say it. Harry had the sudden realisation that maybe he was on the same page, that maybe he could have been right. All that evidence that had piled up against him was brought suddenly to light, how could he have been mistaken, with all those shared glances and little touches, he could hear Hermione's voice echoing in his ear, 'you do everything together.'

"Maybe I remembered already." He said, his words low and full of meaning.

Severus looked over at him, regarding Harry with a cool air. "You've remembered more."

"No." Harry said quietly, "But,…I've…realised things."

He knew as soon as he'd said it that it was wrong, he'd made a mistake. He got up from the chair and made his way over to the window, enjoying the breeze coming in through the gap.

"What do you mean?" Harry didn't answer, just stood at the window, squinting against the sun. "Harry?"

"You know what, I don't even know what I mean." He leaned on his fists on the windowsill, "I've spent so long trying to figure out what's in my head, but I don't want to say anything in case I've got it all wrong." He looked over at the bed, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even said anything, you've only just woken up, you should be resting."

"Harry." It was hard to lower you're voice when you've just had your lungs burnt, Harry knew, but Severus pulled it off with ease. "I've been asleep for days, I feel quite rested."

There was silence

Harry looked away, over the city scape. He took a sigh and shook his head. "You lied to me." He said lowly, tinged with confusion.

Severus looked at him in shock, he'd lied to him? Where had he gotten that from, he'd never dreamed of lying to Harry. "No." he denied him.

"You told me we were friends." Harry continued.

"We are!" Severus tried to sit, to understand what Harry was saying but the bandages pulled at his skin causing him to swear and hiss in pain. Harry was next to him in a moment, hand on his chest as he persuaded him to lie still.

"See what I mean." He said quietly, "you should be resting. I should go."

"No, Harry. I don't know what you think you know, but we are friends, I promise you. I wouldn't lie to you Harry."

Harry shook his head, eyes filling up as he saw the pain flicker across his face. "Friends don't go into fires for each other Severus." He kept his eyes lowered, tracing the line of a bandage as it ran across collarbone and shoulder. "We're not friends are we Severus?" he looked up at those obsidian eyes that sparked with depths of fear and hope. "We're more than that…aren't we?"

Years of hope and dreams suddenly spread out across the table. And so suddenly.

Severus didn't know what to say, he'd never actually believed that this day could come, or even when it did, it would have been different. When he'd asked to see Harry that day, he'd been ready, bolstered by their encounter. But know, it was a wholly different situation, everything tipped in his favour because Harry had no memory of them.

"I don't know what to do Severus." Harry muttered, and he was crying now, his open eyes clear and innocent, and Severus loved him so much more when he cried, needed him more. He pulled on Harry's wrist so that he sat down on the bed, knees pulled up so that he was leaning over. "I don't know what to do. I don't know you, and it's so hard, and I'm so sorry."

"Shh. It's okay Harry." He lifted his hand, placing it against his face in a gesture he'd wanted to do so many times, and slowly he wiped the tears away. "Don't worry about anything. It's okay, nothing has to happen."

"It's not that. It's just so confusing." He turned into his hand as he dried his tears, "I feel all this and I have nothing to base it on. All I know is that when you were in that fire, I've never been so fucking scared in my life, and then coming here and seeing you like this, knowing it's my fault. But all I know of you is from before. And you have no idea how hard this is. It's like this inner struggle, with one part of my mind saying I should hate you, and the other constantly pulling me to you." He looked up through his tears. "What do I do?...what do we do?"

Severus was silent, what could he tell him, he knew the situation was serious but all he could think of was how close he was, how a small tug would bring his lips to his. But he couldn't do that to Harry, when he was so desperate and confused. "I can't tell you Harry, I can't tell you what to do. Only you can decide that. You need to think about what you really want, what you need. Don't think about me." He stroked his cheek, his own held in Harry's palm.

"I don't want you to hate me." Harry whispered, his fingers running into long hair.

"I couldn't hate you Harry." Severus replied vehemently.

"I just think I need some time." And that one sentence broke them both, brought fresh agony to their hearts. Severus nodded, unable to do anything but except and try to ignore the ache in his chest that had nothing to do with smoke and fire. "I'm so sorry." Harry whispered.

"Don't be." He soothed his hand over Harry's hair, doing nothing to tame it, holding him as he finally came to rest against his chest, the pain was unbearable but he didn't care. He had something now, however fragile it may be, and it seemed that the scale could tip in either direction, but whatever the decision, he could take it. He'd waited this long. He could wait a little longer.

Harry calmed after a while, but he didn't move, seemingly content to listen to his heart beating while he let his tears dry. Eventually the thought of the impending visit of the headmaster prompted him to rise, an odd flat feeling inside him. "I should go." He said miserably, "I don't think I can take Albus right now." Severus smiled sadly at him. "But I will see you soon. Okay?" he let his hand trail down his face, their fingers lacing for the shortest time.

"I'll see you soon." He whispered again, his voice unable to do anything else for fear of breaking. Severus nodded and watched him as he stood to leave, waiting hesitantly at the door while he looked back, with such a sorry look on his face. And finally he left, the distance growing between them as he marched down the corridor manifesting itself as a hideous ache that lodged itself within their chests. Harry moved expertly through the corridor, unseeing as he started to run, his eyes threatening to fill again. He reached the lift and slammed his hand into the panel. The doors slid shut with a quiet sound and he found himself alone.