Before Harry can step fully through the floo Hermione grabs onto him and pulls him into her and Ron's apartment. Her hug, to Harry's surprise, doesn't make him flinch at all. It's heavy, and a bit stifling, but not scary.

Hermione holds him for probably a little too long, to the point where Ron finally breaks them up to get his own hug in. Harry thinks they're being a little overkill for a moment, then remembers it's been over two months since they've been together, a new record.

"Do you want anything? Water? Tea? Some food maybe?" Hermione asks immediately.

Ron sees the overwhelmed look on Harry's face Nd interjects. "Mione, he's been here before, he can get himself whatever he wants." Ron chides.

Hermione seems like she doesn't know what to do with herself so ignores Ron and disappears to the kitchen to fetch them all a cup of tea. Ron motions for Harry to take a seat.

They're living room is cute, in another world Harry could have pictured himself living somewhere like this. There is a mixture of cheap, low quality, and antique second-hand that Hermione somehow manages to all match together. The mugs she brings out are mismatched and charming. They both have good jobs, but Hermione makes them frugal, she wants a house, so for now they live in a delightfully dingy one-bedroom. Ron is shockingly poor with money, he's kept on a tight leash.

None of them say anything for a moment. Hermione is playing herself very cool but Harry knows her well enough to see the questions in her mind.

Hermione opens her mouth to speak, she just gets out, "Harry, what-" before Ron loudly speaks over her and says: "Hey, tell Harry about your bill, Mione."

She closes her mouth but takes Ron's advice. Harry sends Ron a knowing, and thankful look.

It's easier to talk about something else for now, and Harry is genuinely interested in Hermione's work with the House Elves. She's very passionate about the issue.

She talks for a while, probably a couple of minutes mainly just monologuing about everything she's gotten done; the moral and ethical hurdles of representing House Elves fairly; and what steps come next.

Harry wants something like this, some kind of accolade or title that he's chosen to earn and complete. He considered being an Auror as that, but clearly, it hadn't worked out. Ron and Hermione both have something and Harry wants to see one- just one- news article where he's recognized for something other than being, well, Harry Potter.

Hermione finally exhausts herself and runs out of things to talk about involving her work.

Harry feels much more relaxed now, safe, just hanging out among his friends. He sinks into their fluffy armchair and sips on his tea. Being able to do what I want is really bloody awesome.

"How's staying at Hogwarts been? Haven't been in a while." Ron, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees on the couch, says. Hermione is across the living room, sitting similarly to Harry on the other armchair, a bit curled in on herself with a blanket loosely around her legs.

"Good. Really good. Exactly what I needed." He isn't sure what else to say. There's a moment of silence. Hermione still looks like she wants to ask questions, but refrains, and Ron doesn't emotionally know how to handle the situation with any tactic other than avoidance.

Harry considers his two options: say nothing, dance around the topic, and have a surface-level chat with friends; or just tell them.

"He was hitting me. That was it, that's why I left."

Hermione's mouth drops open, clearly not expecting Harry to share the information so freely. Harry watches her zone back into reality and she slams her mouth closed.

Ron tenses up, his arms flexing as he balls up both of his fists, his biceps tightening. His mouth curves into a frown for just a moment then goes back to normal.

"How long?" Ron asks but doesn't look up at Harry, and doesn't make eye contact.

Harry shrugs. "It started about a month after we got married. Just slaps. It got steadily a little worse until about five months ago it got bad, and two months ago it got, uh, really bad, and then I left."

Ron just nods, not asking another question.

"Why are you staying with Professor Snape?" Hermione chimes in.

Harry's face flushes before he can help it. It's been another week with Severus. Harry leaves the apartment with him more often and at this point, most of the students know that Harry Potter has frequently been to Hogwarts and been seen with their potions professor. There have been no articles in The Prophet about it, thankfully. Everything's been silent on that front.

Things with Severus are good, though. They coexist very easily with one another and Harry almost never gets tired of talking with Severus or brewing with him.

"I went into his shop in July and started visiting him to get out of the house. I went to him once after a really big, ah, fight. He was kind of the first person to know about it all."

Hermione fixes him with a look that he doesn't really understand. Her eyes are narrowed slightly but she doesn't look angry. Contemplative, slightly accusatory, but it doesn't look cast at Harry.

"So you're just living with him until, what?" She follows up.

Harry shrugs. "I dunno," he really doesn't. "We get along well and I don't want to live alone right now, so it's been nice, actually.

"Are you going to the Aurors?" Ron asks, changing the subject. Harry's glad, he'd rather explain more about his abuse than his peculiar relationship with Severus which still confuses even himself at times.

Harry cringes a bit at the question. "I've... thought about it. Still some bad blood on that end, you know."

Ron raises a brow at Harry, fixing him with an almost confused look, before dropping it and saying, "You should." Harry considers that this stems from both Ron's ideals of justice and a more base urge to help his friend in a way that he knows how.

Harry finally shrugs noncommittally. "I can still barely talk about it, I don't know if I can do that yet."

"Your memories are always there," Hermione adds, nodding at him in understanding that it would be traumatic to go rehash everything at this point. Ron doesn't seem totally placated but backs off anyway. "You seem a lot better Harry, happier," she adds.

Their topics of discussion haven't been particularly happy, so Harry wonders how truly terrible he must have looked whenever they saw him. "Thanks, Mione, I'm sorry that my shitty relationship had to have impacts on you guys too. It was crummy not to be able to see you freely."

"Don't feel bad about that mate," Ron chides, "We just missed you, that's all."

"And wish that you had told us," Hermione grumbles, then to Ron's look adds, "but mostly we just missed you," with a charming smile.

Harry laughs. Without jealousy clouding his mind he can appreciate them so much more. They're perfect for each other. He thinks about having a relationship similar to theirs with someone who he could talk to and understand so easily. Harry is close with both of them, but the level to which they understand each other's small cues is on a completely different level from any relationship he's ever had. Unlike before, the thoughts don't fill him with a sinking, inescapable sadness, instead, he feels hopeful, like it's possible for him to achieve something like that.

"You know what, next time I'm being abused by my husband, you will be the first to know, Hermione."

Ron laughs, Hermione doesn't look like she's found the joke very funny.

Harry spends almost the entire afternoon at Ron and Hermione's. They move to talking about Ron's work, then back to some stuff about potions and being in Hogwarts again, then, like always, they bring up drama from their school days. Hermione makes dinner at one point while Harry and Ron play chess, then they eat together and enjoy each other's company.

Harry doesn't looks at the clock in fear every ten minutes, and when he arrives back in Severus' quarters nearing nine in the evening there's no comment. Just a small smile, as if Harry's return has made Severus' day, and a genuine "How was your visit, Harry?" that Severus wants a genuine answer for.

Harry could get used to this.


"Sev?" Harry gets the man's attention.

It's Saturday morning, the following day. Harry is on his second plate of breakfast. Severus has put him on double rations to get back up to a healthy weight, Harry is not complaining. He's eating while sitting in the armchair (Severus has not said anything yet, but Harry can tell he's irked by the potential for crumbs on his chair. Despite knowing this, Harry is relishing in the fact that he can annoy Severus, and Severus will just chidingly tell him to stop or do nothing. He won't hit me, ha). Severus is sitting on the couch, one long elegant leg draped over the other, Daily Prophet in his hands.

Severus looks over at Harry, raising an eyebrow and immediately folding the paper in half, lowering it to his lap. Harry likes that Severus pays undivided attention when talking to him. He's never only half-interested or multitasking unless they're brewing together. "Yes?"

"What were your parents like?" Harry already knows the obvious, that Severus' father abused him, but he's never asked more than that, Severus has never shared more than that.

"Great, lazy, Saturday morning topic." Severus quips.

Harry just grins at him, toothy, "thought I'd start us off with something light."

Severus folds the paper the rest of the way up, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table. As he's leaning forward Harry can see the back of his sleep shirt ride up on his back, showing a pale strip of skin and a bit of his stomach being pressed into by his pants. It's handsome, Harry's been thinking that more and more recently.

"My father was Tobias, a muggle. My mom was Eileen Prince. Tobias was mean, more so to my mom, but he was verbally abusive to both of us, and he hit me a handful of times, usually open-handed. He stopped when I got older and bigger than him, never with the words though. My mom was okay, better than him, but not good." Severus considers what to say next for a beat. "They weren't well suited to being parents. They never really, socialized me, for lack of a better word, which is why I clung to Lily so much, she was my first friend. It was a very lonely childhood."

Harry looks around the cozy, inviting space that Severus has made for himself for a moment. Severus got better, it is possible. "I'm sorry," Harry says, and it isn't just a platitude, he really means it.

"Thank you, Harry."

"My aunt and uncle were pretty mean. They got a bit better as I got older, but before Hogwarts was rough when I had no escape."

They share a knowing look with each other. "I know exactly what you mean."

Harry thinks for a few minutes, absently drumming his fingers on his leg. "How did you, I don't know, this seems like bad phrasing, but how did you 'get over it'?" Harry finally asks. He appreciated how well-spoken Severus is, and wishes that he was just as verbose.

"I was angry for a long time. As you know, I wasn't exactly, well-adjusted after Hogwarts. The only real solace I had was my work." Severus pauses again, Harry marvels at just how many words he's gotten out of the usually terse man today. "It wasn't until after the war that I realized I would never be happy if I didn't 'get over it,' so I forced myself to. Prioritized myself, would be the simplest way to put it. Started doing things I wanted to do."

Severus' guards are all down, Harry realizes. The man is vulnerable, letting himself be vulnerable. Harry doesn't know how to cope with such bare emotions. So he makes a joke, instead: "And I suppose saving me was doing the things you wanted to do?" It's cheeky, but the humor doesn't quite echo correctly.

The serious look on Severus' face doesn't go away, if anything it's more intense. "Yes," he pauses, then continues, "But I didn't save you." Sensing Harry's awkwardness, he adds, "Anyway it was getting boring living here by myself. Really, you're doing me a favor."

Harry smiles and looks down, wishing he had a book to bury himself in instead. The weight of Severus' gaze is heavy, and a little arousing, Harry's mind supplies, unhelpfully.

They go back to doing their own thing for a few minutes. Severus is reading, and Harry finishing his food.

Harry takes his time washing his plate and the dishes from cooking. He considers, for a moment, grabbing his wand and spelling everything clean instead. He doesn't do it, but the thought doesn't fill him with dread like before.

Finally, he drifts back into the living room. He knows he can just go to the study without announcing it to Severus, but he lingers, standing just to the side of the couch Severus is on.

"I was going to do some brewing," he announces, immediately feeling awkward again. He's been feeling awkward around Severus a lot recently. Not bad awkward, just awkward.

Severus looks up from the paper again. "Do you want me to join you?"

"Uh, well, maybe if you're not busy. Or, if you want to."

"I'll come in a couple of minutes," he motions to the fact that he's almost finished.

Harry nods, grinning, and makes to walk to the study. Severus stops him. "Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry turns, facing Severus, closer to him now.

"I have something I've been meaning to talk to you about if you have a moment?" It's very polite of Severus to ask Harry if he 'has a moment,' but the absurdity of the insinuation that Harry could possibly have anything else to do is enough to almost make him laugh.

Instead, Harry nods and takes a seat on the couch next to Severus, maintaining a good bit of distance, for his own benefit. "What is it?" Harry's mind races through a million possibilities: he wants me to move out; he thinks I should get a job and stop freeloading; he wants some money or something for me to pay him back; he wants to kiss me. No wait, that's me, I want to kiss him.

"I want you to know, first off, that this is something you are more than welcome to decline. You don't owe me anything." Severus makes very clear.

Harry bites the inside of his cheek. Did he read my mind or am I that transparent? "Okay." He nods his head once.

"You've become more than proficient at potions. Outstanding, even," that breaks the tension, and makes Harry smile coyly. "Do you want to get your Potions Mastery?"

Harry is taken aback by the question, he hasn't really considered it. He likes brewing, but till now it's just been an easily accessible hobby, seeing as how he lives with a potions master. Harry considers it for a few minutes, mulling it over in his mind.

The prospect makes him immediately excited, but reality creeps in as he thinks about the specifics. Am I good enough to do that? I was never a good student. Isn't mastery for people like Hermione?

"I- yes. Yes, I do, but, how would it work?" He speaks fast, immediately adding, slightly quieter, "Would I have to leave here?"

Severus shakes his head, no, immediately. "You would stay here and learn what you can under me. There's no exact way of going about it, but I spoke with Minerva. For your practical application, you could help in the classroom, and do some teaching when you're ready. Over the summer you could help me at the shop, then, after that, you'd have to do independent research, still under my supervision."

Harry reels a little bit. Even though Severus has been unendingly understanding, Harry did expect that their roommate situation would come to an end sooner rather than later. Now, Severus is offering up the potential of almost another year of living together.

"You don't have to stay in my residence, you can, but there are other options."

Harry stops himself from immediately protesting and shouting 'no!' "Can I think about it?" He asks. He already knows the answer is yes.

Severus looks disappointed but tries to school his features. Harry wants to kick himself. "Of course."

"I do want to." Harry follows up, not able to bare the look on Severus' face. "I'm just worried, I don't know, I won't be good enough. I don't want you to put so much effort into training me if I'm just going to fuck up."

Severus' face softens. "Harry, I wouldn't offer this to you if I wasn't certain you could do it. It will be hard. The research portion could take you several years, but there's no time limit on it."

"I want to do it, I really do." Harry can't help himself. He did want to give it some time and think about it, but he knows that all roads would lead to the same ending, and he would say yes.

Also, Harry wants to kiss Severus. Moreso than usual right now. And we're sitting so close together on the couch. Severus gives Harry a smile that makes Harry feel like he's melting, so he jumps off the couch, mentions the brewing he wants to do, and escapes down the hall. That was close.


"That was... not terrible," Harry remarks as he and Severus walk side-by-side down the corridor at Hogwarts.

"You handled it quite well," Severus agrees.

Harry grins. There's a group of students walking toward them from the other end of the hall. Three Ravenclaw girls who immediately start whispering to themselves when they see Harry.

"Good evening, Professor Potter," one of the girls speaks up, earning a distressed look from her two friends who try to hide their mortified expressions. "And, uh, Professor Snape."

"Good evening," Harry replies easily, only turning to beam at Severus after the girls are out of earshot. "Professor Potter? Nice ring to it."

"I'll say." Severus returns his smile and nods.

They moved quickly after their conversation on Saturday. They spoke together with Minerva on Sunday about Harry being an apprentice under Severus. She was more than happy to bring Harry on as a semi-official member of staff and even more happy to see him again. He knew that she must have known he'd been in the castle for the past almost month, but she didn't mention anything about it, just enthused Harry about the opportunity to learn under Severus.

She also offered him his own quarters in the castle. Harry said he'd think about it. He knew instantly the answer was no.

It's Monday evening now, after dinner. Harry attended his first meal in the Great Hall since returning to Hogwarts.

It was much nicer than Harry expected, fun, even.

All of his old Professors were excited to see him. Hagrid almost had a heart attack with how glad he was. It was slightly uncomfortable to feel the eyes of every student constantly darting at him during the meal, but Minerva made it clear that Harry was to be respected as a member of the faculty. Not that he will be teaching quite yet. He needs a little bit more time to feel comfortable in front of a class.

At least now, though, Harry doesn't have to hide away in Severus' office during classes or desperately hope that he isn't seen in the halls.

Undoubtedly, this will get to the Prophet. Harry knows that, but he feels... almost untouchable.

He's not entirely unafraid, I still can't see him, or even talk about him, but dodging the thought is working wonders. Draco exists on my terms right now, if I don't leave Hogwarts, he doesn't need to be real.

Harry kind of knows that total avoidance isn't a road to closure, but it's making him feel so immensely better that he leans fully into it.

Severus lets them into the apartment, holding the door open for Harry.

As soon as Harry steps foot in the apartment, he curses, "Bloody hell," he mutters, looking distressed.

"What is it?" Severus asks, serious in an instant.

Harry waves his hand at Severus, waving away the man's tone. "It's nothing I just forgot some notes in your office." Harry sighs. He doesn't want to make Severus walk all the way back there, but he also wanted to continue some research tonight.

Looking at the door for a moment, Harry comes to a conclusion, clearly, I can just walk there myself.

"I could go back for you, It'll just be a minute." Severus offers.

"No, I, uh, I think I'll go." He says, nodding his head as if suring himself for battle. "By myself."

Severus raises an eyebrow but Harry is already walking back toward the door. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. He tells himself as he throws a look over his shoulder and steps back out into the hall.

He's alone, then, with endless options, and endless direction. Not entirely alone, just that he can see. It's still early in the night, there's bound to be students around.

Harry's mind doesn't slip once the entire walk. It's not very long, just a few minutes there and back. He's proud of the fact that he doesn't get startled or frightened, even when a Hufflepuff jumps out of nowhere chasing their escaped rat. He feels secure.

Severus did that, Harry thinks, fondly. Obviously, I had a hand in it too, but, really... What would have happened if Severus wasn't here? Harry considers alternate realities where he still left Draco but instead had to do it either alone or with Ron and Hermione. The version he's in right now seems like the absolutely best-case scenario.

Harry can't stop thinking about it even when he gets back to the apartment, how glad he is that he ended up here. He remembers from the letters that he and Severus had sent. There's no point dwelling on the fact that he wishes he had never gotten involved with Draco in the first place, instead, he's momentarily just glad to be where he is.

Back in the apartment, Severus is leaning against his kitchen counter, holding a cup of tea, blowing on it slightly. He's taken off his teaching robes, they're slung over the back of the couch.

The look they share with each other is conspiratorial, childish almost. Severus' smile is giddy, as inapt of a term as Harry thinks that is to ever describe Severus. Harry considers the look on Severus' face. It looks as if Severus is just as excited for Harry that he was able to leave like that as Harry is for himself.

It's nice, and refreshing, to have someone care about him that genuinely.

Harry sucks his lips into his mouth and lets out a laugh, cheeks red. He sets his notes on the coffee table, tossing them haphazardly. "Covering lots of new ground today," he says, coming to stand in front of Severus in the kitchen, standing just a few paces away.

Severus looks down at him from over the steamy rim of the cup, taking a sip that was probably too hot. Severus sets the mug down behind him. "I can apparate you to London if you like?"

"Just send me straight to the Leaky Cauldron, nice, calm atmosphere."

The air is so carefree right now, so relaxed. Harry feels unlike he has since... Well, ever, really.

"You appear to be doing very well tonight. I'm glad." Severus finally says, pulling his cup back up to his mouth.

Harry lets out a short laugh and looks down, cheeks turning red again. "I feel good, honestly. Thank you, for everything."

"You did everything, Harry."

"You don't always have to be so humble about it. You helped me, seriously. I couldn't have done this without you. Not this well, at least."

He looks up then, just as Severus is setting the cup down. They lock eyes. Harry is pretty sure his cheeks are apple red at this point.

Severus' smile drops from his mouth as he looks at Harry, but it stays in his eyes, narrowed slightly, crinkled around the edges.

I want to kiss him. Harry thinks.

Then he does. It's like leaving the apartment earlier or dealing with Draco, he doesn't even think about it.

Within two steps Harry is standing chest to chest with Severus. In one swift motion, he puts his hand, very gently, on Severus' shoulder, just steadying both of them and leans up to press their lips together.

It's tentative, unsure, a questioning. Harry's lips are just a whisper on Severus'. Somewhere in the rational part of his brain that's still attempting to think, Harry is expecting Severus to push him away. Harry relishes in what he thinks will just be a few chaste minutes. Harry can taste faint traces of Severus' black tea and smell the sweet, foresty aftershave that he definitely hasn't already smelled multiple times in the bathroom.

The kiss becomes fervent in an instant. Severus doesn't just kiss back. He puts his hands on Harry's waist and leans into it, crashing their lips together, tightly. Harry leans against Severus' chest and throws his arms around the man's neck. Their lips move against each other's with abandon, their teeth clack once and they don't even pull apart for a moment. Severus tightens his grip on Harry's waist, not just resting his hands but squeezing his arms, pulling Harry impossibly close to him.

Their mouths both open, and the kiss goes from passionate to raunchy.

Both men are pressing their tongues into the other's mouth. Harry's hand threads through Severus' hair, he feels like he can't get close enough, connected enough, can't get his tongue far enough down Severus' throat. Harry's other hand moves to Severus' front, pressing against his chest, feeling him just like he's been craving.

Severus' hands are roaming over Harry. One is gripping his hip and the other snakes up his back. Severus fists one hand in Harry's sweater. Harry feels heated and fervid, he lets out small breathy noises, almost moans, that he tries to stifle back, embarrassed by his sudden and total reaction to the stimulations.

Finally, they have to pull apart to take real breaths, not just air hastily sucked through their noses.

Harry's pupils are blown, he looks up at Severus through his lashes, lips bright red, swollen slightly, a spot of saliva trailing just slightly down one side of his lip.

Severus also looks debauched, but less so than Harry, still with his wits about him.

After Harry's taken in the minimum amount of air he thinks he needs, he stands back up on his toes, trying to meet Severus' lips again.

This time Severus rejects him, pulling his arms away from Harry and turning his head to the side, a clear indication that he doesn't want to be kissed again. Severus tries to take a step back as well, but he can't in his position against the counter.

Like he'd just been scolded Harry creates distance between them. "I'm so sorry." He blurts out, crossing his arms over his chest. He chews on his bottom lip and looks away from Severus' face, just to the side of it.

"Don't apologize. I shouldn't have done that."

Harry furrows his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Neither of them will look at the other. Even Severus, who never shies away from eye contact is instead pensively staring at the floor and gripping the counter, his hold so tight that his knuckles bulge and look almost white.

"I don't want to take advantage of you Harry, don't feel like you owe me anything."

"What?" He says immediately before his brain has even fully processed what Severus said, so swiftly infuriated with it. "I didn't kiss you because I feel like I owe you." He argues.

"Harry," Severus starts, his voice sounding bizarrely sad. That makes Harry even more annoyed, that Severus would be sad after rejecting him. "You're still recovering. I'm the only one around so I can understand," Severus seems at a loss for words, he's far more flustered than Harry's ever seen him, "misplaced affections."

"What in the world are you talking about? I like you, Severus, that's it."

"I'm also your only option." Severus is quick on the bite with that one. He doesn't sound sad anymore, instead, he's stinging.

Harry closes his mouth, settling it into a frown. "Whatever, I'm going to the study," he says before gathering up his notes and retreating.

He closes himself in the study, even considering wedging the chair under the knob. Not that he's afraid of Severus, his eyes have just filled with tears and he doesn't want to embarrass himself more than he already has. I can't believe I fucking kissed him. I'm such an idiot.

Harry can understand Severus rejecting him, but he can't understand why for a few minutes it felt like Severus wanted it just as much as he did.

Harry groans in frustration, pulls at his hair, and tries to focus his mind on something else.