A/N Warning this story contains the death of a Major Character!
It's been a long day and Harry wants nothing more than to go home and soak in a nice warm bath. Packing the necessities in his satchel, Healer Potter slings the strap over his shoulder, locks and wards his door, Waves goodbye to his Medinurse and heads for the bank of lifts at the end of the corridor.
Shocking his outer robes and hanging them on the hook. Harry calls out for Severus. Must still be at the shop, Harry decides as he ascends the stairs. The tantalising scent of his favourite bath oil wafts along the hallway near his and Severus' bedroom.
Smiling Harry goes into the ensuite to find the large claw foot bath full of steaming hot water. A note attached to the mirror over the sink.
Relax and enjoy. I'll be home soon
S x
As Harry leans back against the rim of the bath, a flute of champagne materialises next to him. Taking a sip, Harry thinks about the many ways in which he can thank his husband for this lovely gesture.
In seconds Harry feels his throat tightening, his airways closing over. Lungs burning. Desperately grabbing at his throat as if that will suddenly help him breath, he sees a figure nearest the door out the corner of his rapidly blurring vision.
The figure moves closer, Harry can barely make out any discernible shape. As he takes his last ragged breath, the figure leans over and whispers in Harry's ear.
"If I can't have you no one can"
Hidden in a dark corner of the room, Ginevra Weasley listens with delight at the anguished cries of Severus Snape when he discovers his beloved Harry lying dead in their bath.
"I was never going to let him be yours," she whispers to herself, vanishing with a pop.