The Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests descended on the Seventh Year students of Hogwarts like a swarm of vampire bats, sucking them dry of any knowledge they had gained through the years. Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, left each exam feeling on the verge of either throwing up or laughing maniacally until he was thrown into a room with Gilderoy Lockhart. In the end, though, the trials passed and the students, in spite of their doubts, survived unscathed.
The morning of the Leaving Feast, the day before he and his fellow Seventh Years would leave Hogwarts forever as students, Harry met Severus on the steps of the castle before dawn, as he had every morning previous. He felt amazingly good about his life. He'd finally adjusted to the financial questions that tended to arise from his estate manager, he felt he'd done decently on his NEWTs, and he'd given Master Ailin his decision to accept the offered apprenticeship just the night before. So when he spent the morning talking with the Potions Master about what his life would be like after Hogwarts, he honestly felt nothing could throw his train off track. He was wrong.
As their walk came to an end at the base of the steps, Harry passed off his mug and moved to return to his dorm. He was snagged by the grip of confusion when a hand slid into his and pulled him back to stand in front of the Potions Master. Black eyes stared deeply into his emerald gaze. An elf appeared beside them, and without ever looking away Severus set their mugs on the tray. The elf disappeared as quickly as it had come, and still they stared into one another's eyes. Green shone brightly with happy confusion, and onyx eyes were murky with unknown intent.
Harry's breath hitched as a hand cupped his jaw, drawing him forward into a slow kiss. His eyes slid shut as he leaned into the press of lips. It was innocence itself, the kiss, but Harry could feel a dark stirring low in his belly. He reached up and laid his hand on the pale neck, drawing Severus closer to him. The man's other arm wrapped around his waist, drawing their bodies even closer as their lips moved together in perfect harmony.
This was cheating, without question and without hesitation; but Harry doubted he could have stopped it if he'd wanted to. It was as if they had always been building to this moment. It wasn't just the summer of rapport, or the early mornings corrupted by unseen, beautiful tension. Every moment before this, from the second their eyes had met across the Great Hall at that very first Welcoming Feast, had been leading them here. Fate was nothing, if not unkind.
Harry reminded himself to breathe when Severus pulled away.
"Please…" He murmured, not knowing what he was asking.
The Potions Master frowned, rubbing his thumb along Harry's jaw.
"I'm sorry."
The second kiss was more than the first. It was more than a meeting of passions; it was a clash of lips, teeth, and tongues. This was a growling of their inner demons, scratching at their cages with an eagerness they felt only for each other. The kiss, deeper and cloying, was everything a second kiss should be. But it wasn't enough. He wanted to hear that impossible, dark chocolate voice declare absolute fealty to him with those forbidden words. There was no doubt, here and now, that they would be believed and earnestly returned.
The sultry baritone rumbled against his lips.
"Goodbye, Harry."