Archive of Our Own

Harry picked at the paint buried beneath his thumbnail. He could have used a spell to banish it away, but there was something satisfying about scraping it out bit by bit with the end of his quill pen.

“You will ruin the nib, Potter,” McGonagall said as she scratched away with her own quill.

Harry sighed and tossed his quill down on top of his stack of ungraded papers. “I have another.”

McGonagall hummed. “Wasteful.”

Harry placed his elbows on the table and propped his chin up on his fisted hands. “I hate grading.”

“We all hate grading.”

“I think I hate it the most.”

McGonagall gave him one raised eyebrow in response.

She didn’t have to grade anymore, now that she was Headmistress of Hogwarts. Harry didn’t resent her at all, of course not. “What are you working on over there, then?”

“A letter to Emmons’ parents, about the accident at today’s Quidditch match.”

Harry sighed and turned his head to watch the fire crackle in the teachers’ lounge fireplace. Emmons had been hit right in the ear with a bludger. Pomfrey said she could regrow his burst eardrum. Probably.

The weather had been so cold out on the pitch today. Harry had applied warming charm after warming charm after warming charm. Severus had rolled his eyes and offered him his Slytherin scarf to go over the top of the Gryffindor one Harry’d wrapped twice around his neck. Harry’d declined.

Harry pulled his back up straight, huffed out a breath, and pulled the next parchment over in front of him.

Douglas Finn, Hufflepuff, absolute rubbish at Defense. Harry checked the nib of his quill, straightening the slightly bent edge, and dipped it in his red ink.

He read Finn’s first sentence. He squeezed his eyes shut, groaned, and laid his head down on the table.

McGonagall chuckled beside him.

Harry heard the door open and then Severus’ voice called out, “Whinging again, Potter?”

“Severus,” Harry mumbled into the table. “I hate grading.”

Harry pulled his head from the table and watched as Severus whipped his cloak off and draped it over the back of the chair across from Harry. He settled down into the seat and he pulled his wand from his sleeve to Accio the tea tray over in front of him. “Cease complaining over things you cannot change.”

“I could change it.” Harry tapped his chin with his quill. “I could go all hippie, new age, and not give out grades.” Harry spread his hands and waggled his fingers dramatically. “No tests, no papers. I just feel in my gut whether you pass Defense or not.”

McGonagall rolled her parchment up tightly and smacked his hands down. “Harry James Potter.”

Severus scoffed and said, “Send a few spells their way. If they survive, they pass, with an A.”

Harry leaned back in his chair. “If they end up needing to see Pomfrey, a P.”

“If they die, a Troll,” Severus said.

McGonagall clicked her tongue.

Severus added, “And if they take out Potter, an O.”

Harry pressed away a smile and glared at Severus. “No one can take me out, Snape. Don’t you read the Prophet? I’m Harry Bloody Potter.”

Severus stirred the sugar into his tea and cocked an eyebrow. “I think I could manage.”

“You could try.”

“Name the time and place.”

McGonagall huffed. “You two. Ridiculous, you are.” Harry watched her stand and gather her things. She continued, “I wish you both a good night and happy grading.”

Severus scoffed and Harry nodded before returning her wishes for a good night.

Severus gestured towards the paint still speckling Harry’s hands. “Been working on that pit of yours again, I see.”

“Cafe Au Lait. That’s what it said on the tin.” Harry looked at his hands, spreading his fingers wide. “What do you think?”

“Looks brown.”

“More tan, I think. It’s for the office.”

Severus hummed and sipped his tea.

“It’s coming along. One weekend at a time. Should be able to move in this summer.”

“Won’t your little groupie be pleased. No more dank, dreary Grimmauld for the Misters Potter.”

“Haha.” Harry rolled his eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip. “Anyway, I doubt we’ll last that long. Elliot’s been strange lately.”

Severus drummed the fingers of the hand not holding his tea cup on the table.

“I don’t know.” Harry shook his head and continued, “I think we broke up a few days ago. He wanted to go to London for a play or something, and I had a meeting with the Godric’s Hollow Restoration Board. I said I’d take him next week and he just flipped out on me. It was like Ginny all over again, you know?”

Severus tilted his head and said, “Fuck them all, Potter.”

A laugh burst out of Harry and he grinned.

Severus raised his tea in salute, then took a sip.

******

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione wiped the bit of butterbeer foam from her top lip. “Did you get the invitation from Luna and Rolf?”

Harry nodded. “I did.”

There was a loud crash by the bar. Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s attention pulled away from their drinks and dinner. A witch wearing stilt-lettos (the newest fashion crave sweeping the Wizarding world) had stumbled and fallen into the bar, taking out a row of drinks and a bowl of stew. Hermione clicked her tongue and Ron and Harry laughed as Rosmerta ranted and raved around the mess. She was loud enough that they heard every word, even over the roar of the crowds packed inside The Three Broomsticks on the blustery late November night.

“So glad ‘m not a girl,” Ron said, turning back around. “I’d hate to wear such stupid things.”

Harry shook his head and dragged a chip through a bit of vinegar. “Nope, not just for girls. Saw a bloke in Chat Affamé last week wearing them.”

“Chat Affamé, eh? How was the food?” Ron picked up two chips and stuffed them in his mouth.

Harry shrugged, swallowed his chip, and picked up his drink. “Alright, I guess. Elliot wanted to go.”

Ron nodded. “Seems sorta poncy.”

“Yeah, that’s about right.” Harry sipped his ale. “They had good cheese.”

“Cheese?”

“Yeah. They brought it out with some salad on a plate after dinner.”

Ron wrinkled his nose. “After dinner?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah.”

Ron hummed.

Hermione sighed. “Will you be bringing Elliot then? To Luna and Rolf’s wedding?”

“Oh.” Harry’s brow furrowed. “No, I don’t think so. I think we broke up.”

“You think?” Hermione’s face creased in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘you think’?”

Harry ran his finger and up and down his scar. “He was very…angry…the last time I saw him. And he said some things and I didn’t say the right things back, and I haven’t heard from him since. So, yeah, I think we broke up.”

“Honestly, good riddance, mate,” Ron said. “He’s a right demanding prick.”

“He’s not that bad.” Harry shook his head. “He just likes for me to, you know, be there, for him.”

“He wants you to be at his beck and call, more like.”

Hermione nodded. “I agree with Ron. I never liked him.”

“It’s nice to, you know, be wanted.” Harry cleared his throat. “Besides, that’s what a good boyfriend does, isn’t it?” He shook his head, stopping whatever Hermione was about to say. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Hermione looked at him for a long moment. “You can do better.”

Harry twisted his mug back and forth against the wood grain of the table, watching the condensation leave rounded trails in its wake.

Hermione said, “You should bring Ginny to the wedding. She’s not seeing anyone.”

Ron slapped the table and grinned at Hermione. “That’d be fantastic. Harry, double date Fridays, Sunday brunches at the Burrow. Remember?”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“I miss all that,” Ron said.

“Gin doesn’t want to go to a wedding with me.” And Harry didn’t much want to talk about her.

Hermione smiled and said, “I think we could talk her into it.”

Harry scrunched one half of his face up and made a low hissing sound through his back teeth. “I’m good, I think, you know? I think I’ll find my own date. Thanks though.”

Hermione nodded and picked up her butterbeer. Ron’s shoulders slumped a bit, but he said, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

“I’m definitely sure.”

He and Ginny. After things settled down after the war, they’d made a real go of it. Harry gave it his everything. His absolute all. Everything Ginny wanted, he did. Everything she needed, he got. Every twist and turn of her emotions and whims, Harry catered to. And he still couldn’t make it work. She still broke off their engagement and moved out of Grimmauld.

Ron and Hermione seemed to think it was a phase Gin was going through, that she’d be back after she figured herself out. But that had been a year and three boyfriends ago. Harry’d stopped holding his breath over the summer and started dating Elliot, a wizard he’d met in this very pub.

Elliot had been a fun summer fling, but once the school year had started back up he’d not been very understanding of Harry’s busy schedule. Harry was tired of bending over backward to make him happy.

Exhausted actually.

He’d fallen asleep in a staff meeting last month. Severus had kicked his shin under the table to wake him up. Harry’d had a bruise there for three weeks. Severus had pushed and poked at the tender spot with the toe of his boot every time he’d seen Harry start to drift off.

Harry wasn’t about to leave his job, though. Quitting the Auror Corps to take up the Defense position at Hogwarts was what had sent Gin packing. He wasn’t going to make that sacrifice for naught by giving it up for such a fresh relationship.

Hermione pulled him from his thoughts. “So, who are you thinking of asking then?”

“I don’t know.”

“I could set you up with someone.” Hermione took a sip from her mug, the butterbeer leaving a foamy mustache on her top lip. “There’s this girl at work. Very bright and she likes Quidditch. Unless you’d like to date a bloke again. I’d have to-”

“Don’t worry about it, Hermione. I mean, I’m not even sure what’s happening with Elliot, so…”

Hermione continued, oblivious to the lingering foam on her lip. “You shouldn’t give up, Harry.”

Ron chuckled, reached over and wiped the foam away with a finger. He bent forward to press a soft kiss to Hermione’s lips. Hermione smiled up at him, all goo-goo eyed. Harry smiled even as something sank, cold and heavy, in his stomach. He licked his lips and looked away.

******

What was happening with Elliot turned up all over the front page of the Daily Prophet the next day.

Harry pushed under his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped and prayed to any deity that would listen that he had not read what he had read. That he had not seen the picture that he had seen. That it was all some very strange delusion. The snickering and whispering sweeping across the Great Hall were really making it hard to keep that hope alive though.

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at the paper again.

The headline: right there, front and center, in giant black and white print. The headline alone was enough, but the tag line under it made him shudder, and not in the way Elliot had implied.
Potter’s Boy Toy Tells ALL!

“Harry made me charm my nose to be invisible every time we had sex!”

And the picture under it…Harry remembered when it had been taken. He thought he’d been joking around with his boyfriend. Thought he was safe, with someone he could trust.

Elliot had charmed a camera to take some pictures. Harry supposed he should be grateful that the one gracing the front page of the Daily Prophet was, uh, the tamest of the bunch, and at least some lucky limb placement made it impossible to see any bits and bobs, but still. He and Elliot were full on snogging, naked, in the Astronomy Tower, in broad daylight. It had been summer and the castle had been completely empty of children, but Harry was sure the general masses weren’t going believe that now that it was almost December.

Harry’s face was hot and his blood thumped through his veins as he looked up and faced the room full of students and teachers. Many of them with their noses pressed to the page his arse was currently gracing.

“Oh my,” McGonagall muttered as she read the story that went along with it. All of it utter rubbish.

Harry swallowed and pushed his plate away. The mere sight of his bacon and eggs made his stomach churn. His eyes flicked through the crowd, from paper to paper, his students, his coworkers, his friends.

His fists clenched against the table and his breathing went ragged. The mugs and tea cups and juice glasses littered up and down the teacher’s table started to shake, their contents spilling over the sides as his magic pulsed under his skin.

Harry was never dating again. Ever.

Severus walked through the doors, and Harry could see the Daily Prophet neatly folded and tucked under his arm. Harry’s coffee mug exploded, sending shrapnel out to the front row of students and hot coffee backwards to splash against his and McGonagall’s robes.

Severus glared at each and every snickering, whispering, gossiping student as he strode up the aisle. When he got to the protesting, porcelain-covered front row, he snapped, “Brush it off and move along.”

He climbed the dais and took his usual seat next to Harry. Harry swallowed, glanced at him, and awaited judgment.

“Calm yourself, Potter.” Severus slapped the paper down on the table. “It could be worse.”

Harry’s eyes went wide. “Did we see the same paper this morning?”

“Your bare arse waggling around on school property? Yes, I think we all did.”

Harry groaned and pressed his hand to his forehead, running his finger up and down his scar.

Severus took two pieces of toast and floated a pot of jam towards himself. “Stop reacting, Potter. You are giving him exactly what he wants. The more you grunt and groan and throw around rogue magic, the more attention you draw to it.”

Harry took a deep breath and sat up in his chair. “I think I’m going to vomit.”

“You are not. You are going to pull that plate of food back in front of yourself, eat it, and go about your day.”

Harry rolled his eyes to the heavens, took a deep breath, and pulled his plate in front of him.

******

By dinner, the owls had started coming and Harry felt sick anew. Mrs. Weasley had seen the picture- Mrs. Weasley- and had felt compelled to write to Harry.

He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. Bare arse and all.

Hermione sent a letter as well. She wanted to check on him and, yeah, it looked like his relationship with Elliot was over. Would he like her to set him up now?

No, Hermione. He would not. He would like to not ever date again, thank you very much.

He couldn’t make it work with Ginny, and everything there was perfect, at least on paper.

Childhood sweethearts. Her family loved him. Best friend’s sister. Shared hobbies, interests, dreams.

Disaster.

He couldn’t make it work with a new person, with no connections to his life. A total fresh start.

Different people, different circles, different goals.

Again. Disaster.

He didn’t want to try again. His heart couldn’t take it.

Harry threw the latest owl, one from Teddy (honestly, why?), in the fire and then threw himself down, face first, onto his sofa. He’d earned a good sulk, and he intended to cash in. He would lie here, in the dark, and be sad and angry and wish for death.

There was a knock at the door.

Harry groaned, a deep one, rumbling its way up from his gut. “Go away,” he mumbled into the pillow. He didn’t want the person to actually hear him. Then they would know he was in here and, more than likely, not actually, in fact, go away.

They knocked again.

Harry burrowed into the cushions.

They knocked again and didn’t stop. Only one person did that.

Severus.

Harry rolled off the couch and to his feet, plodded to the door, and opened it.

Severus took one look at him and scoffed.

Harry scowled at him, but opened the door further to let him in anyway.

“Don’t look at me that way, so morose.” Severus walked to Harry’s kitchen and opened a cupboard. “I’ve brought something more productive than sulking.”

Harry sat down on his sofa with his back to the kitchen.

Severus came around the sofa and placed two glasses on the coffee table. Then he pulled a bottle from the depths of his robes. “Wine. Red. A fine bottle from France.”

Harry looked up at Snape, tried to smile, and then gestured at the bottle. “Pour up, then.”

Severus pulled the cork and poured, handed one off to Harry and took up the other for himself. “I know a charm that will make the bottle seemingly endless. Seemingly, unfortunately, as it runs out after a few hours.”

“Enough time to get properly tipsy.”

“Properly sloshed, if we don’t dally.”

“Cheers then.” Harry raised his glass.

Severus met the toast and then sat down on the wingback catty-corner to where Harry sat on the sofa.

Harry said, “I am so fucking livid.”

Severus sipped his wine and crossed his legs.

“I didn’t think we would get married or anything ridiculous,” Harry continued. “But is some basic respect of privacy too much to ask?”

“Maybe next time, wait a full year before blessing your dalliances with pictures of yourself starkers.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He smirked and asked, “Is that how long you wait?”

Severus widened his eyes in mock scandal. “I would never.”

“Yeah, well, lesson learned.” Harry looked down into the ruby red wine. “I will never, ever be doing that again.”

Not that he would have a chance because he was absolutely done dating people he didn’t already trust explicitly. And that was a very small group of people, and, at nearly thirty years old, a mostly married group of people.

Harry glanced up over the rim of his glass. Except for Severus. Severus was single. Harry had never heard of him dating. There were no rumors when Harry was a student. It’d been ten years since Harry inflicted his friendship on the man and he’d not mentioned a companion once. Harry had spoken with him at length about his ongoing, eventually fatal issues with Gin. But Severus had never divulged anything back.

Harry knew he was gay. Severus had mentioned that a few times, that he preferred men, but no relationships were ever brought up. Harry assumed he wasn’t one for squishy romance and feelings and whatnot. More of a wham, bam kind of bloke.

Harry didn’t have that kind of detachment in him, he didn’t think. His eyes flicked back and forth over Severus. He bit his bottom lip.

“Of course,” Harry went on. “Hermione and Ron have already got their hopes up. Thinking I’ll work on things with Gin again.”

Severus wrinkled his nose.

Harry shrugged. “Mostly Ron hopes that, I think. I think Hermione realized how draining dating Gin was on me at the end.”

“It seems unlikely at this point that Miss Weasley will grow up into someone compatible with your emotional needs.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know if that was a dig on me or her.”

Severus stuck out his bottom lip and lifted one shoulder.

“Hermione is trying to set me up with her coworkers now.” Harry shook his head. “I am not interested, at all.”

“Yes, ‘not dating at all now’, you’ve said.” Severus downed the last of his wine and reached for the bottle.

Harry stuck his glass out for a refresh while Severus was at it. “Though now, I will have to deal with people setting me up with every man and woman they know.”

Severus grimaced and sank back into his chair.

“Merlin, and Luna’s wedding is coming up. And the Ministry Gala. And Christmas parties and New Year’s parties. It’s going to be endless.”

Severus nodded. “Minerva has already begun to meddle. We had a meeting about it just this afternoon.”

Harry smirked. “You did not.”

“I assure you, we did.” Severus looked Harry dead in the eyes. “I was there and it was painful.” He pitched his voice to be high and shrill. “‘We must do something for Harry. He needs someone stable and grounding, Severus.’”

Harry scoffed.

“Then she stared at me as if waiting for me to pull some eligible bachelor from my arse.”

“Or bachelorette.”

Severus tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Harry sipped at his drink and stared at the fire, thinking, thinking of Severus dating, of him casually being with someone. Maybe Harry could do that, maybe he could detach himself. Then he smirked and chuckled to himself.

Severus lifted one questioning eyebrow.

“I just had a crazy thought.” Harry licked his lips; they tasted like wine. “What if we went to Luna’s wedding together? You and me?”

Severus brow contracted and his mouth popped open ever so slightly.

“It would definitely make it to the papers and people would forget about the mess with Elliot. Hermione and Ron and McGonagall would all leave us alone about dates.”

Severus said, “No one would honestly believe we were dating, Potter.”

“They would, and at the very least, they would have to respect it and not try to set us up with people.”

“No, they would not have to respect anything.”

“They would.” Harry smiled and leaned forward towards Severus. “Will you, Severus, pretty please, do me the honor of being my date to Luna Lovegood’s wedding to Rolf Scamander?”

Severus heaved a great sigh, reached for the wine bottle, and said, “I think you’ve finally gone round the twist, but fine. Yes.”

Harry’s smile grew and they clinked glasses to make it final.

******

The Weasleys had a big Sunday brunch once a month. Mrs. Weasley had tried to make it happen every week, but it never took off. With six grown children and as many grandchildren, plus spouses and Harry, all with busy lives, once a week was impossible.

Even after he and Gin called it quits, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley insisted Harry come. They made sure Harry felt welcome in their home, never taking sides and never pressuring Harry or Ginny.

This week, Mrs. Weasley had made it extra special because Bill’s birthday had been last Wednesday. She had done all the normal fry up stuff— eggs, rashers, sausages, tomatoes, beans— but she’d also whipped up some blueberry pancakes. Harry lathered on a nice, healthy layer of butter, stuck another pancake on top, and poured thick syrup over it. His mouth was absolutely watering.

“That cute little bum of yours is going to balloon up to match Hagrid’s there, Harry,” George said.

Victoire snickered behind a piece of toast across from Harry, and she wasn’t the only one. There were little chuckling Weasleys up and down the table. Harry glared at George and scooped out another pad of butter to stick on top.

“Hush, George.” Mrs. Weasley tutted. “Don’t talk about Harry’s behind at the breakfast table.”

“Or at all,” Harry added. “That would also be good.”

George winked at him.

“I couldn’t believe they even printed something like that.” Percy said, cutting a sausage into little pieces. “Distasteful.”

“I can’t believe you even let someone take something like that, Harry, and then keep it. You should have burned it,” Angelica said.

Harry sighed and shoved a big forkful of sweet, fluffy pancake into his mouth. The table began debating exactly how naked they would get for the camera at various points in relationships and Harry did his best to completely block it out. After all, the entire table already knew Harry’s answer. Or what his answer prior to the Friday morning edition of the Daily Prophet would have been.

“What are you going to do now, Harry?” Hermione asked and the whole table went quiet.

“Well. Nothing.” Harry shrugged. “Damage done. It’s over.”

“I’d have hexed him into next year,” Bill said.

“I’m afraid I’ll do worse if I see him right now.”

“Now who will you bring to the wedding next month?” Ginny asked, and the whole table went quiet again.

Harry licked his lips and cleared his throat. “Severus, actually.”

Mouths sprang open. Eyes popped out. Cutlery fell to the table.

“Yeah, I, uh, asked him Friday night and he said yes. So.”

“Severus Snape,” Ron said.

“Of course, Severus Snape.” Hermione snapped. “We don’t know any others, do we?”

“Yes, Professor Severus Snape. Hogwarts Potions Master.”

“Amazing,” George said, wondrously.

Harry nodded. “I’m feeling pretty good about it.”

Harry cut another big hunk of pancake off, butter now melted and oozing out the sides. He opened wide and stuck it in. Harry’s eyes roamed up and down the table and caught on Ginny. She was frowning and her brow was scrunched up, eyes lost and hazy as they looked down at her plate.

“Right, well,” Mrs. Weasley said. “It was overshadowed a bit by…well.” She cleared her throat. “What are we thinking about Kingsley not running for reelection next year?”

The conversation blessedly turned to politics. The perfect distraction. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.

Harry’s mouth turned up on one corner and he looked down the table again. Ginny met his eyes, blinked a few times, and looked away. Then she pushed her plate away and left the table.

Harry pressed his lips together. No one else seemed to notice she’d gone. He chewed at his bottom lip for a second, then stood and followed Ginny.

She’d gone out the front door. Harry found her sitting on the top step of the porch just outside. She’d charmed a little heated bubble of air around herself and Harry snuggled into it to sit next to her.

She glanced his way as he sat down, but didn’t say anything. She had her knees tucked up against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes were suspiciously bright.

Harry laced his fingers together in his lap and asked, “You okay?”

She tilted her head and shrugged her shoulders. Her hair tumbled forward and she swiped it back behind her ears. Her face wrinkled up and she said, “Snape?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. He tightened and relaxed his fingers, the rhythm making his hands look like a beating heart. “We’ve been friends awhile, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ginny said. “He’s just so…Snape.”

Harry scoffed. “I like him.”

Ginny sighed. “You aren’t really dating him, are you?”

“What do you mean?” Harry’s pulse picked up and he fought in urge to rub at his scar. “I asked him to the wedding, so, yeah.”

Ginny shook her head. “You don’t have to go with him. I’ll go with you.”

“I know I don’t have to go with him.”

“Then we can go together.”

“No.” Harry swallowed. “Gin, we are not together anymore. You made that very clear.”

“For the wedding, though. I know you.” Ginny reached over and cupped his hands in hers. “I know you just don’t want to go alone.”

Harry yanked his hands free and shot up to his feet.

Ginny craned her neck to watch him. “Harry.”

“No, thanks, Gin. I’m set. I really want to go with Severus, okay?” Harry said. “Leave it alone.”

Ginny pressed her lips together and stared at him.

Harry turned on his heel and went back to his brunch.

******

Harry was inside a snow globe, or at least he felt as though he was. Luna’s wedding had a theme: Winter Wonderland. Snow was charmed to fall on the guests, dissipating before it hit the ground. The smell of mint and cocoa and birch wafted under Harry’s nose. Little blue bird-like creatures zoomed back and forth, a bell-like tinkling left behind in their wake. Luna up at the altar looked like the loveliest snowflake, and Rolf the happiest bloke.

Severus sat beside Harry as they and the other guests watched the exchange of vows. They were sweet and simple and heartfelt, and Harry knew he had a soppy, little smile on his face. He didn’t try to hide it as he turned his face to Severus and raised one eyebrow. Severus looked down at him and sighed, rolling his eyes, but he shifted a smidge closer to Harry. Close enough that their shoulders touched.

Once the ceremony was over, the group moved onto the reception. It was held in the large open atrium of an old church in Devon. The reception area was decorated much the same as the ceremony hall. Only now there were tables and food and drinks. Drinks that Severus shuffled off to fetch for him and Harry while Harry found a place to sit and watch the dance floor.

Harry was not much of a dancer.

No, that was too kind.

Harry was an abysmal dancer. He knew it, everyone knew it. Ginny had taken him a few times and her laughter had put an end to his ever learning properly. Though she’d still insisted he take her for a spin around every dance floor they were ever in the proximity of.

Harry had never seen Severus dance, not at any Ministry Galas, not at any Yule Balls. Never. So, Harry assumed he was safe from the embarrassing task tonight.

Ron and Hermione found Harry shortly after Harry found a table. They chatted a bit about the decor and then Gin found them. Gin sat down in the empty seat to Harry’s right. He hadn’t been saving it for Severus, exactly, but her presumption felt rude. She was, amazingly, seemingly alone for the evening.

Harry shifted around in his seat and looked for his actual date. He and Severus locked eyes across the room. Severus was leaning against the bar. He glanced at Ginny and then looked back at Harry with a questioning lift of his brow.

Harry grimaced, then gave his best pleading puppy dog face. Severus’ mouth ticked up in a quick smirk and he turned to collect the drinks he’d ordered.

Severus placed Harry’s drink, a white wine, down on the table in front of Harry and slid into a chair on Harry’s left. Harry lifted his glass and Severus lifted his matching glass. Severus toasted, “To the Scamanders.”

Harry smiled, clinked their glasses, and echoed, “To the Scamanders.”

Harry was mesmerized by the way Severus was gazing at him. He seemed amused and, Harry wanted to say, almost interested. Harry licked his lips and Severus’ eyes followed. Severus was quite good at making this seem real. Ron cleared his throat and pulled both of them back out of the moment.

“How are you, Professor?” Hermione asked.

“Better at the moment. And, you, Mrs Weasley?”

Hermione smiled. “Well. Thank you.”

Severus nodded his head and then draped his arm over Harry’s shoulders. Harry settled back into it. Severus was warm and he smelled nice. Like lemons and something masculine and woodsy. He was dressed nicely, too: a deep blue velvet robe with silver piping along the edges. He had a fitted black tux beneath his robes, much like Harry’s. Harry had chosen a set of forest green robes for the wedding, to match his eyes. Fashion and clothes weren’t really his strong suit, but people always made positive comments when he played off the color of his eyes.

Severus turned his head and, lips brushing the shell of Harry’s ear, he whispered, “Are you ready to play, Mr. Potter?”

Harry scoffed, bit his lip, and nodded.

“Drink your wine, Harry.”

Harry sipped. It tasted sweet and fruity, light. He took another pull from his glass.

“Good boy.”

Harry choked, the wine burning where it went off track in his esophagus. He shifted his head away from Severus enough to turn and glare at him.

Severus smirked, and Merlin, it looked absolutely salacious, but he settled back in his seat away from Harry’s ear.

Harry cleared his throat and took another sip. Ron was goggling at him from the other side of the round table. Hermione looked bemused, but only for a moment before shaking it off and asking Severus about some new Potions regulation Harry had zero interest in. Harry smiled at Ron and then turned to Ginny with the same smile. Ginny was staring at where Severus’ fingers were rubbing circles on Harry’s shoulder. Her face creased in concern and she pulled her eyes away.

Dean joined them shortly after, as well as Fleur and Bill with Victoire, followed after by Neville and Hannah and Cho. The table now full to bursting. Plates of food circled around and everyone grabbed what they wanted. Drinks were fetched from the bar and the atmosphere became absolutely jovial.

And Harry stayed snuggled against Severus the entire time. No one mentioned Harry and Elliot or the bloody Prophet article. Luna and Rolf christened the dance floor and everyone moved over to bop around and give it a go after them. Harry watched them all, happy and secure right where he was.

Ginny leaned forward and looked at Harry, something still darkening her expression. “Dance with me, Harry?”

“Uh,” Harry moved his hand from the table to Severus’ thigh. Severus tensed and then relaxed, placing his own hand over Harry’s. It was soft and dry, bigger than Harry’s. It covered his whole hand. Something about it made warmth pool low in Harry’s gut. He drank more wine.

“If anyone is going to dance with my date, Miss Weasley, it will be I,” Severus said. “Would you like to dance, Harry?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.”

Harry downed his entire glass and stood. Severus stood as well. He put his hand on Harry’s lower back and led him to the dance floor. Bad luck or good, the song switched to something slow and romantic as they stepped onto it. Harry put his hands on Severus’ shoulders and Severus wrapped those all-encompassing hands around Harry’s hips.

Harry swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. “I should tell you, I am a terrible dancer.”

“The wine should help.”

Harry chuckled. “True.”

Harry flexed his fingers against Severus’ shoulder. He bit his lip and looked down. They could fit another person between him. Harry had a feeling that they looked like children, forced to dance with each other to amuse their parents. Harry laughed, one quick gust of air, strong enough to flutter the ends of Severus’ hair.

Severus lifted a single slim brow. His eyes shifted to look around them. Harry did the same. No one was paying them any mind. Dean had moved in on Ginny back at the table, but she kept sending sidelong glances back at him.

“You are a terrible dancer,” Severus leant forward to murmur in his ear.

Harry shrugged and moved his hands further up Severus’ shoulders to play with the ends of his hair. The strands were fine: so fine they were like silk.

Severus moved his hands around Harry’s back and pulled him closer. “Loosen up.”

Harry nodded. His head tucked right under Severus’ nose. A slight lift of his lips and they would be lined up perfectly with the man’s jawline. Would it be okay to kiss him there? Just press his lips to the stubbly, smooth skin there. The room was dark and no one would see, not really. The whole point of this was for people to see them, wasn’t it?

“Stop thinking, Potter.”

Harry scoffed and pressed his nose against the man’s throat. The woodsy, citrus smell was so strong right here at the juncture between neck and shoulder. Harry closed his eyes and lost himself in it.

“Dancing is not a thinking sport. You simply feel the music and move.” Severus’ hand pressed into Harry’s back and pulled slightly, moving Harry with him.

Harry’s head was swimming, from the wine, from the scent of him, from the music. He swallowed and wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck and held on. It was so simple to let go, to let Severus move them. This was the most right dancing had ever felt to Harry.

It had been a long time since he thought of Severus as the greasy git of the dungeon. That youthful filter of a student had fallen away with the fall of Voldemort. Severus was brave and strong and life had dealt him a shit hand. Every bump, mark, yellow stain, and unwashed hair was the result of the darkness around him, the darkness he survived. All of it was the mark of a man who’d been given more than a person should handle, and who’d handled it anyway.

Harry knew that hopelessness, that darkness. What did your hair matter when people were dying, when you were tasked with the unthinkable?

For a while after the war, Severus seemed to age backwards. His skin smoothed out, his hair was washed more often, and he didn’t bark and bite as much.

He was still a mean, grumpy bastard. Students were still absolutely terrified of Professor Severus Snape. Harry wasn’t though. Not at all.

He’d never imagined this, though. Pressing his body to Severus’. Clutching his neck. Swaying with the pull of his hands. And, Merlin, why hadn’t he?

“Severus.”

The song was reaching its denouement, slowing and fading out. Severus shifted his hands back to Harry’s hips and tipped his face down to look at Harry.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

Severus nodded. The next song queued up, slow and romantic. Severus tilted his head and asked, “Another?”

Harry nodded, nestling back against Severus’ neck. Severus’ head turned against Harry’s head, his nose buried in Harry’s head. Harry could have sworn he felt the man sniff him. That must mean it was okay that Harry was doing the same where his nose was buried. “This is nice.”

Severus hummed and pulled Harry closer.

“You are a good dancer.”

“Dancing is intuitive.”

“And you are an intuitive man.”

“I am.”

“You had to be.”

Severus sighed. “People are buying this.”

Harry glanced around. “Yeah.”

“Your Miss Weasley looks upset.”

Harry scoffed. “I always complained about dancing with her.”

“Ah.”

“We’d fight about how bad at it I was. She thought people wouldn’t believe I liked her or something ridiculous if we didn’t dance well together.”

“Ridiculous, indeed.” Severus pulled away and took Harry’s hand, leading him off the dance floor. The song had changed again, back to something faster, more bounce around-able.

They didn’t go back to the table. Severus led him to the bar to procure two more glasses of the sweet wine. A platter full of little plates of cake floated by and Harry thought about grabbing one, maybe two. He wasn’t hungry, though. He drank wine, drank some more, and watched Severus do the same.

Ginny and Dean joined them where they were stood by the bar. Dean glanced at Severus, wary. Ginny had no fear, of course. Her face had a pinched look to it, her lips tight and her brow wrinkled.

Crossing her arms, Ginny said, “Looks like you’ve been practicing.”

Dean’s eyes widened and shot to Harry. Harry looked at Ginny and then up at Severus. “No,” Harry said. “Severus is just a good partner.”

Ginny’s nostrils flared and her lips pressed into a thin white line. “This is crazy, Harry. You are not dating Snape.”

Harry’s hands fisted. His mind was hazy with wine and his thoughts about Severus pressed against him on the dance floor. He was not in the mood for Ginny’s antics. “I am, in fact, on a date with Severus right now. I have not been on a date with you for blessed ages so you do not actually get an opinion here.”

Ginny’s mouth shot open in shock and Harry laughed. He set his wine glass on a passing tray and took Severus’ hand.

“Come on, Severus.” Harry walked toward the exit, praying that Severus would let him tug him around.

Astoundingly, he did. He followed Harry, hand locked in his. Harry went out the front door, into the chill of the garden and orchard surrounding the wedding venue. The cold made Harry’s muscles tense up. His fingers tightened around Severus’ hand and he pulled him closer, gravitating to the body heat the man was putting out.

Harry kept walking. He walked through gardens, past benches and gazebos, avoiding the smatterings of people. Through the entrance and out into the orchard, full of dormant trees turned brown and grey. Harry led Severus up one row and then crossed to another and another. He went down and up, over and back, until they were properly lost. Never slowing and not looking back.

Not until Severus yanked his arm and pulled him to the cover of the closest tree. Severus cast a warming charm and positioned himself and Harry in the dead center of it.

Harry did something wholly dumb and unplanned then. He shoved Severus right up against the tree and kissed him.

Severus’ lips were still and cold beneath Harry’s chapped, moving lips. Harry slid his hands up from where they’d shoved the man’s chest to the man’s neck, up into his hair, Harry’s thumbs lining up with Severus’ jaw. He pushed closer in, pressed his hips to Severus’, and that did it. Severus moaned, low and deep, sending a frisson of heat down Harry’s spine, and Severus started kissing him back.

Severus grabbed at Harry’s hips and fisted his hands into Harry’s robes. The kiss was a simple press of lips, closed and dry. But nothing with Severus would ever be simple, nothing, and Harry’s pulse was pounding under his skin, the rush of blood making his head spin and his fingers ache. Severus was so solid and strong against him and Harry couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t pull away. His mouth parted and his tongue swept across Severus’ bottom lip. Severus shuddered against him and opened, his tongue meeting Harry’s. The slick, hot slide of their tongues had Harry groaning and tightening his grip on Severus’ hair. He pulled at the roots and Severus’ hips rutted forward against Harry.

“Oh, god,” Harry panted. “You’re hard.”

Severus moaned and bent his mouth back to Harry’s.

But now that Harry knew, it was all he could focus on. Severus’ cock was a hard line against his lower belly. Harry wanted. He wanted to feel and touch and taste and possess.

“Severus,” Harry pulled away and ran his hands down Severus chest.

Severus yanked Harry’s hips back against his own and latched his mouth onto Harry’s neck. His tongue licked and caressed and he bit Harry’s pulse point and Harry squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his face to the sky to give Severus better access. Severus pulled Harry’s earlobe between his lips and suckled and Harry was lost, his own cock pressing delightfully hard against his pants.

Harry ran his hands down, down until they got to Severus’ belt buckle. His fingers trembled and shook as he struggled to pull and flex and undo the thing. The clink of the buckle and the rush of the leather yanking free of the loops laced together with their panting breaths and the distant tinkling sounds of the reception. Harry made quick work of the button and zip. He pushed Severus trousers and pants down to his thighs.

Then, he was looking at Severus’ cock. Hard and pointing at Harry, it was gorgeous. Pink and smooth and long. His foreskin still cradled the wet, sticky head.

Harry put a hand to the line of dark hair that ran from Severus’ navel to his cock, feeling the soft hairs shift beneath the pads of his fingers.

Severus threw his head back against the tree and made a keening noise, as if he were in pain.

Harry pulled his hand back, worried he had hurt the man somehow. With both hands, Harry grabbed Severus’ face and gently encouraged Severus to look him in the eye. Severus’ eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. His lips, red and swollen, parted to show a peek of the soft, pink tongue hidden inside. “Severus. Severus, can I touch you?”

Severus pressed his forehead to Harry’s.

Harry continued, “Please, I want to feel you.”

Severus’ eyes closed and he took Harry’s hand from his face, guiding it down and placing it where his thigh met his hip. Foreheads still pressed together, Harry and Severus looked down between them. The light was low and shadowed here by the trees. They were lit only with moonlight. Harry wrapped his fingers around Severus’ cock and they both groaned at the sight, at the feel of it. Severus’ foreskin pulled back and the sweet, round head of his cock broke free. Harry hips jutted forward at the sight.

Severus’ breath caught. His hand released Harry’s hips and moved to the belt buckle, pausing only a moment, until Harry said, “Oh, god, yeah, yes.” Severus made quick work of it, and Harry’s trousers and pants were around his thighs and his cock was bobbing in the open air next to Severus’ in no time at all.

Harry flexed his grip around Severus’ erection as Severus wrapped his fingers around Harry’s hard cock. Harry ran his hand up and down, up and down, getting a feel for the weight and girth of Severus before properly setting a pace. Severus matched him stroke for stroke. Every fourth or fifth pass, their hands would bump together and the head of Severus’ cock would graze Harry’s and leave a sticky patch of precome.

Harry groaned and brought the hand that wasn’t working Severus’ cock up to the man’s hip. He ran his nails down through the tight curls around his cock, and gently cradled his bollocks. Severus’ cock hardened in his grip and grew before Severus gasped and came, the wet heat of his come landing on Harry’s cock and on his thigh.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.” Harry’s stomach muscles flexed and released, flexed and released as he felt everything tighten and pull taut. He squeezed his eyes shut and the world went white, white, white as his own climax hit him.

Still leaning against each other, Harry and Severus panted and trembled. Harry waited while the blood found its way back from his cock to his limbs and head. Severus muttered a cleaning charm, the first words he’d spoken since Harry kissed him.

Harry swallowed, he blew out a breath. He opened his eyes and looked at Severus. Severus’ face gave nothing away, a complete blank slate. As if Harry could write anything he wanted on him, on this. Harry bit his bottom lip.

“Severus.”

Severus peeled himself from Harry and tugged his pants and trousers up.

Harry reached to do the same. “I liked that, Severus.”

Severus stilled, for only a moment, before grabbing the end of his belt and threading it through the loops.

Harry continued, “We should do it again sometime.”

Severus glanced at Harry.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. Anything at all. We could just have a bit of a snog now and then.”

Severus scoffed and buckled his belt.

“I mean it. Free of, of expectations or, you know, commitment.”

Severus straightened his robes. “I do not,” Severus sneered, “have a ‘bit of a snog now and then,’ Potter.”

“Well, it’s never too late to start.” Harry shrugged and adjusted his robes.

“I am not a romantic and I don’t do the whole domestic drivel of relationships.”

“Fantastic, because I am absolutely not looking for any of that.”

Severus rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious.” Harry grabbed Severus’ hand. “We already did the no-commitment date here, right? This is just adding a dimension to the arrangement.”

Severus looked at Harry askance. He looked up at the starry sky. His jaw clenched and he turned back to Harry. “I may be amenable.”

Harry grinned and tightened his grip on Severus’ hand.

“Occasionally.”

Harry nodded.

“No romantic nonsense.”

“None.”

Severus nodded. “Then we have an agreement.”

Harry let go of Severus’ hand and they turned and walked together back to the reception. Harry couldn’t help himself from sneaking glances at Severus the whole way.

******

Harry stood in his back garden. It being early December, the space was mostly dead and brown. No bugs buzzing, no birds chirping. Harry had stopped off at a coffee shop in the nearby town of Tiftonshire and bought the biggest latte they offered, plus two extra espresso shots thrown in there. The paper cup with warm against his palm as he tipped it up to take a sip.

Harry bought this property four years ago. He’d bought it to make Gin happy.

It hadn’t.

It was in desperate need of renovating, had infestation problems, and had had zero ward work done on it, seeing as how it had only ever been owned by Muggles.

It had the look of an old country cottage, only much bigger. Enough space for the growing family he’d planned to be working on with Ginny. It was six bedrooms spread over four floors. The basement level had a wine cellar and a room that could be converted to a Potions lab. The grounds had a fallow, former vegetable garden; with little plot markers faded, worn, and barely legible sticking up here and there. There was a nice open space with a few trees that Harry used for flying. He and Ron and various Weasleys had played some small Quidditch games back there before the breakup.

The ward work had taken ages, years, to get right, with layer after layer of complex protections. It had been quite the process.

The rodent and bug issues too, seeing as how the creatures were more Muggle than magical, had taken some time.

Then Harry’d vowed, to himself mostly, that he would renovate the home himself, basement to attic. Cracked foundation to hole-ridden roof.

Ginny had balked at the notion. She didn’t understand Harry’s desire to rebuild what she called a “dung pile” when he could just buy something new, modern, and rat-free. Harry’d tried to convince her of the home’s value until the very end.

He used a mix of magic and Muggle construction tricks and tools to reassemble and revamp the house. And it was all coming together very nicely, if Harry did say so himself. Which he did.

After the warding and the pests, Harry’d tackled the roof and attic (to keep the pests from returning through any cracks or holes). The foundation work, of course, was high on the to-do list. The ground floor, with the kitchen, dining, study, sitting room, and guest bath had been up next and were finally done.

Harry was here this weekend to assess the goals and needs for the first floor. Three bedrooms (one with an en suite he planned to make the master), a landing, and a shared bathroom. There was also a little patio area off the main bedroom. It overlooked the much bigger stone patio that sat on the back of the house and connected to the open grounds. The patio and grounds were big enough that he and Ginny had planned to get married there one day.

Harry pulled an icy breath into his lungs and blew out a puff of white air. He took another sip of his coffee and went inside and got to work.

******

After a long day alone working at the cottage, Harry liked to grade papers in the teacher’s lounge. Usually, there was at least one other teacher in there to keep him company. Usually, that teacher was Severus. Harry hadn’t seen him in more than just passing since last weekend’s wedding. Harry had been thinking about him all through his work at the house today, waiting for his evening spent in Severus’ company.

Harry was slightly breathless when he pushed open the door of the teacher’s lounge. His eyes swept the room. Flitwick, McGonagall, and, yes, Severus, were all sitting around the staff table.

Harry smiled. “Evening, everyone.”

He got nods and hellos back. McGonagall offered across the tea tray as Harry took a seat next to Severus.

“How goes the rebuilding, Potter?” Flitwick asked with a smile.

“Great.” Harry added three sugar cubes to his tea. Severus watched and clicked his tongue. “I moved on up to the first floor today. Probably start gutting the master en suite next weekend.”

“Oh, mind you, Saturday is the Ministry’s Charity Ball.”

Harry nodded. “I know. They don’t let that one slip our minds.”

It hadn’t come close to slipping Harry’s mind. He’d been thinking all week about ways to ask Severus to go with him. They had the arrangement after all, and Harry was pretty sure the man would say yes, but he didn’t want to presume. He would definitely be waiting until they were alone though.

Harry scooped the parchment rolls out from his bag and his red ink and quill. He laid everything out in front of him. Severus looked to be halfway through his own stack. McGonagall and Flitwick were only chatting, going on about the annual budget and the board or something. Harry tuned them out and turned to Severus. He said, low, “Have a good week, Severus?”

Severus kept his eyes to the red-marked parchment in front of him. “Same as always.”

Harry hummed and ran a finger up and down the scar on his forehead. “You’ve been scarce is all.”

Severus tapped two long fingers on the table and glanced at Harry. “I wanted to get ahead of my brewing schedule. For the holidays.”

“Oh.”

Severus unrolled the next few inches of the parchment and continued grading. Harry swallowed and started on his first parchment. The fire crackled as a log split. Flitwick began cleaning up his tea and biscuit mess. Severus finished grading his paper, charmed the red ink dry and let it roll up before laying out the next one in front of himself.

Harry kept his eyes down, making the occasional mark. “Do you usually go away for the holidays? I always seem to remember you sticking around.”

“I have no plans, as yet.”

Harry nodded. “Good. Well, not good, but, you know. You’ll have a nice break from everything then.”

“Indeed.”

Flitwick hopped down from his chair and McGonagall rose from her own. They wished Harry and Severus a good night and departed. Harry and Severus were alone, at last. Harry’s pulse picked up and his palms felt a bit clammy against his quill.

“Severus.” Harry bit his bottom lip.

Severus glanced Harry’s way, then back down to his work. “Potter.”

“The Charity Ball. Are you going?”

Severus tapped his quill against the parchment, leaving dots of red in the margin. “Yes, I usually do.”

“Go with me.”

Severus sucked in a breath. “Potter—”

“As part of our arrangement. That’s all.”

Severus opened his mouth.

Harry rambled on, “Not a date. Just us going together, being seen together. To keep everyone off our backs for a bit longer. Right?”

Severus swallowed; Harry watched his Adam’s apple bob against the silvery scar tissue that crisscrossed his neck.

“We had an alright time at the wedding, I thought,” Harry added.

Severus pursed his lips. “It was not much of a hardship, no.”

Harry smirked, and Severus glanced over and smirked back.

“So you’ll be my date?” Harry gave Severus his best puppy eyes. “Pretty please?”

Severus huffed and rolled his eyes. “Stick your eyes back where they belong. Yes, brat, I will go.” He made a mark on the parchment. “As per the arrangement.”

A grin split Harry’s face and he picked his quill back up to set back to his work.

******

The Annual Ministry Christmas Charity Ball for War Orphans was always held in the Ministry Atrium. It was always held the second Saturday in December. The decor was always blue and white and gold. Harry always gave a speech (being the most famous of all of the War Orphans) and the coffers for the Ministry War Recovery Department were always replenished by the end of the evening.

Every year Harry took Ginny.

Except this year, of course.

This year, he walked into the room with Severus Snape on his arm and a smile on his face, and the camera bulbs went wild.

Exactly what he was hoping for.

Ron’s eyes went wide as they approached, but he quickly reined it in and greeted them. “Hello, Harry, Professor.”

Severus bent his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Mr. Weasley.”

Harry asked, “Where’s Hermione?”

“Floo calling the sitter. Rosie’s on potions for a chest infection and Hermione’s making sure the sitter gave them to her.”

Harry hummed and looked at Severus.

Severus met his eyes, raised one brow, and said, “Fascinating.”

Harry snickered, but when he caught Ron’s scowl, he bit his lip to stifle it.

Severus touched his fingers to Harry’s arm. “Are you thirsty?”

Harry nodded.

“I will find us drinks.” Severus looked at Ron. “Excuse me.”

Ron’s mouth pulled to the side. “Snape again?”

“I like him.”

“I know,” Ron said, casually. “Gin’s here with the Keeper for the Ballycastle Bats.”

Harry’s brow scrunched. “Peter Cron?”

Ron nodded. “He’s a complete wanker. Kept talking about his new, fancy broom and his posh flat in Belfast.” Ron sipped something from a tumbler. “Had his grimy hands all over Ginny. You sure you can’t, I don’t know, work it out with her.”

Harry sighed and searched the bar area for Severus. “Yeah, Gin and I were a disaster, mate.”

Ron hummed and sipped again. Hermione reappeared at his side and he lifted his free arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. He said to her, “Harry brought Snape.”

Hermione’s eyes darted through the space around Harry, as though she’d somehow missed the man standing beside him.

Harry said, “He’s at the bar, getting us drinks.”

Hermione pressed her lips together. Then her gaze shifted to over Harry’s shoulder, actually finding Severus this time, as he sidled up next to Harry.

Severus pressed a glass of red wine into Harry’s hand. “They had that Italian one you prefer.”

“Oh, thanks.” Harry smiled, sipped, and hummed his further appreciation.

“Ugh,” Ron said. “Here comes Gin and that git again.”

Hermione pinched Ron’s biceps, making him yelp, and said, “Be nice.”

“Hello,” Gin said, a breathtaking grin on her face. Peter Cron had a smarmy smirk on his and he did seem a bit handsy, what with one arm draped loosely over Ginny’s shoulder, his fingers dangling and grazing at the bare skin of her cleavage.

Harry sipped his wine.

Gin continued, “Peter, this is Harry Potter.”

Peter reached out to shake his hand, and Harry met the hand and added a nod.

Ginny glanced at Severus. “Oh, and Professor Snape, too.”

Peter stretched to shake Severus’ hand as well. Severus looked at it, smiled (a strained, more grimace than smile, smile) and took his hand for a brief second.

Everyone sipped their drinks, those that had one anyway. Harry cleared his throat. Ron shifted on his feet and turned his eyes to the dance floor.

“Peter plays for the Ballycastle Bats,” Ginny said, the words all rushed out of her mouth, almost tripping over one another.

“Star Keeper, that’s me.” Peter smiled and launched into a speech about his contributions to the last game. One where he had blocked every, single, one of the opposing teams attempts at scoring. He’d somehow managed to spot the snitch while doing this and yell out its location to the Ballycastle Bat’s Seeker.

***

“Of course,” he continued

And Harry groaned, turning his head into Severus’ shoulder to cover it.

“They’d be nowhere without me.” Peter smirked down at Ginny. “I carry the team really.”

Harry still enjoyed a good Quidditch game. He followed the teams and attended matches here and there, but listening to someone go on and on about their greatness crossed the line into boring.

Severus pressed his lips to Harry’s ear. “I think your Miss Weasley is dating the offspring of Gilderoy Lockhart.”

A laugh burst from Harry’s lips; luckily, he’d just swallowed his last sip of wine. He sent a half-hearted glare Severus’ way.

Severus chuckled, low and heavy, sending shivers down Harry’s spine. Harry turned back to Peter and smiled apologetically. Gin had her lips pressed into a thin, white line.

Harry licked his lips and lifted his glass, only to find it empty. He sighed.

Severus looked down at his glass. He asked Harry, “Would you care to accompany me to acquire refills?”

Harry blew out a breath of relief. “I would love that.”

Harry and Severus bid the other two couples goodbye and, with Severus’ hand resting on Harry’s lower back, they walked away.

They reached the bar and Severus ordered them each another glass of the Italian red Harry liked so well.

They moved off to a darker corner of the reception area, where all the guests were gathered before dinner started, and slid into the shadows. Settling in, hoping for some anonymity, they drank their wine and Severus began dropping little comments about what everyone was wearing, the way they were all awkwardly interacting. He had Harry grinning and giggling and taking strategically small sips of his drink.

Severus threw back the last of his drink and vanished the glass with a flick of his hand. Harry swallowed and licked his lips. Severus pressed into Harry’s side and bent his lips to Harry’s ear. “Now, look at our laudable Auror Dawlish, over by the fountain.” Severus’ breath smelled sweet, like the wine, and his robes had that same scent from the wedding, like citrus and fire. It must be his cologne. Harry nodded and Severus continued, his voice a purr in Harry’s ear. “His robe dropped into the water ten minutes ago and he has yet to notice.”

Harry chuckled and followed Severus’ body when it began to retreat. Severus stilled and then pressed back in again. Harry finished his wine and sent the glass floating to a nearby table. Harry lifted his hand and rubbed at his scar. When he realized Severus was watching his finger with narrowed eyes, Harry flattened his fringe and lowered his arms.

Harry’s eyes darted over Severus’ face. He nibbled at the inside of his lip before asking, “What say you and I disappear somewhere until the dinner and speeches start off?”

Severus blinked, once, twice, his face perfectly still otherwise. He sucked in a breath and looked away from Harry then back. “Per the arrangement.”

“Yeah,” Harry turned his body to Severus. “I mean.” Harry swallowed. “I know this loo, on the third floor, big stalls. I remember it from my Auror days.”

Severus’ eyes raked over Harry and he smirked. “You frequented this loo, did you, Potter?”

Harry smirked back and shook his head. “Not for what I want it for tonight.”

Severus swallowed and nodded, and Harry did not need to hear anything else. He grabbed Severus’ hand and led him from the room. It took some skill for them to make it to the lift alone without anyone noticing, but they were Harry Potter and Severus Snape. They’d not emerged victorious from the last Wizarding War solely on their luck (only mostly).

The men’s room was empty, being on the third floor. Harry locked the door behind them and pressed Severus against it. They were both breathing hard from the trek up. Severus’ eyes were dark and hooded, focused on Harry, seemingly tracing every line of his face. Harry leaned forward and ran his nose along Severus’. He pressed a kiss to a stubbly jawline, and then lower to the pounding pulse point of his throat.

Severus gasped and moaned and his fists came up to tighten on the robes at Harry’s hips.

Harry ran his tongue along the lines of scar tissue. He brought his hands up and began unbuttoning Severus’ robes. One button, two, three and he had access to the pale, hard edge of a collarbone. He kissed it and kissed it and continued to unbutton the man’s robes, then his shirt, until a bare, lightly furred chest was revealed.

Harry pulled back to look his fill and run his fingers through the soft hair. Severus’ chest rose and fell with each rough inhale, exhale. Harry circled his fingers around Severus pink nipples until they were tight and peaked. Severus moaned, deep and guttural and pulled Harry’s face to his.

The kiss was hungry and rough. Severus bit at the plump flesh of Harry’s bottom lip. His tongue pushed into Harry’s mouth, slick and hot, and licked against Harry’s.

Harry kicked Severus’ legs slightly apart, widening his stance enough that their cocks lined up. Harry rutted his hips forward and up, pressing the hard lines of their erections together.

Severus grunted and gripped Harry’s robes again, harder, until Harry could have sworn they’d tear, but then Severus released them. He moved his hands to the top of Harry’s robes and began unbuttoning him.

“Oh, god, yes.” Harry leant back and let him, wanting to feel the press of hot skin to hot skin. When Severus got to the end of the line, he pushed the robes from Harry’s shoulders. Harry shivered as his upper body was bared to the cold room. Severus ran the tips of his fingers down Harry’s chest, between his pectorals, down the line of his stomach. Harry watched the muscles shift and tighten. Then Severus’s fingers landed atop Harry’s belt buckle and stilled.

Harry swallowed and looked up. Severus was staring at his own fingers, mouth parted and shoulders trembling. Harry ran his hands up Severus’ arms, wrapped his fingers in Severus’ dark hair, and pulled him down for a kiss. Their chests finally met, finally pressing his bare skin to Severus’.

Those fingers trapped between them sprang into motion and made quick work of Harry’s buckle and flies. Harry’s trousers began to slide down his thighs. Severus laid a palm flat to Harry’s cock through his pants and pressed. Harry moaned and dropped to his knees.

Severus gasped and groaned above him. Harry reached for Severus’ buckle and looked up at Severus. The breath was panting out of him so hard and fast Harry felt a flutter of concern in his chest. He swallowed and met Severus’ eyes. “I want to see you.” He licked his lips. “Please.”

Severus squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back. He gave a shaky nod against the door, his fine hair catching in the wood grain.

Harry unbuckled and unzipped the man. He pulled trousers and pants down in one careful tug. Severus’ cock leapt free and Harry caught it with his hand. Harry hadn’t had a satisfying enough look at it last time. It had been dark in the orchard and he’d been drinking and it had happened so fast. Severus’ cock was long and a dusky pink color. He was hard enough that his foreskin had pulled back fully, revealing the sticky, wet head. Harry glanced up into the dark eyes above him one last time before taking Severus into his mouth.

Severus tasted a bit of soap and a bit of the bitterness of precome, mixed with the salt of sweat and the musk of skin. Harry groaned and took him in deeper, feeling the press of the head at the back of his throat. He took the base of Severus cock in one hand and began bobbing his head.

Severus hands came to rest on Harry’s head, his fingers tangled in Harry’s hair. He held tightly and pressed his hips forward to match Harry’s pace.

Harry looked up through his lashes. Severus had his lip caught between his teeth and the color was high in his cheeks. Harry moaned and ran his tongue around the head of Severus’ cock, then flicked it up into the slit. Severus threw his head back and howled. It was so animalistic and wrecked that Harry couldn’t stop himself. He took his own cock in his free hand and started thrusting into his fist, using the slickness of his own excitement as lube.

Harry whimpered around the cock in his mouth, continuing to bob his head as he shifted his hips forward and forward into his own hand.

He looked up though his lashes as he heard Severus say, “Oh, oh, are you? Oh god.” Severus had his eyes on Harry, namely, on Harry’s hand as it worked his own cock.

Harry watched as the muscles in Severus’ stomach tensed, he felt the cock in his mouth harden further, and then Severus was coming. Harry swallowed and swallowed, and he felt his own orgasm coming on hard and fast. He kept Severus cock in his mouth, suckling it, as he came.

As soon as Harry’s sense came back to him, he released Severus’’ softened cock. Severus reached down and tugged Harry upward. He hugged their bodies together and kissed Harry. A nice proper snog that had Harry grinning.

“Severus.”

Severus pressed his forehead to Harry’s and hummed.

“We should get back. I still have to give a speech.”

Severus nodded.

“Though, I think what I was going to say flew right out of my head at some point in the last fifteen minutes.”

Severus scoffed and pulled away. The two of them redressed and cast cleaning spells where needed. Harry did a breath freshening spell. Then the two exited the loo and rejoined the party.

******

His speech went off fantastically, if he did say so himself. He had a fantastic time with Severus, who bent close to his ear all night, whispering snarky opinions of the Ministry stuffed shirts around them. The dinner tasted fantastic, best meal he’d had at a Ministry Gala. And he’d come home and got the most fantastically peaceful night’s sleep of his life.

Harry felt absolutely fantastic the next morning. So fantastic he was whistling as he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. He whistled all the way down the lengths of the tables and up around the staff table. He whistled while he poured himself some coffee and while he dumped in three cubes of sugar. He whistled until his lips were dry and the small muscles around his mouth were aching.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Minerva said from beside him.

Harry smiled and sipped his coffee. He smacked his lips and made a satisfied sound. “Feeling great, thanks.”

There was a folded up copy of the day’s Daily Prophet in front of him. He pulled it forward and opened it. He smirked at the cover. A photo of him and Severus entering the Ministry atrium. They looked dapper and pleased with themselves, bodies moulded to one another. The headline read “Potter’s Shocking Date to Ministry Gala!”

There wasn’t a word about Elliot or about Harry’s bare arse. Only a blip of a paragraph about him and Ginny. Mostly, it talked about how inseparable he and Severus were. How Severus had whispered ‘sweet nothings’ in Harry’s ear all night while Harry grinned soppily.

Perfect.

Minerva, looking over his shoulder, said, “A lovely picture. You seem quite well matched.”

Harry nodded. “I agree.”

“Who’d have thought.” Minerva settled back in her seat and smiled.

“Who’d have thought, indeed.” Harry folded the paper back up and tossed it aside. He piled eggs, toast, and sausage onto his plate and dug in.

******

The Quidditch stands were frigid. Harry was bundled up toe to top as he made the long trek up to the teachers’ box and its warm toasty heating charms. It was the last match before Christmas hols and the stands were packed with stir-crazy students already whooping and hollering for their teams. Severus plodded up behind Harry, muttering about the noise or the cold or Harry Bloody Potter or anything. Harry couldn’t hear him over the wind and, well, noise.

Harry reached his seat and plunked himself down. Severus settled in beside him. They had been careful to act as a couple in public, to keep the game going, but they had always sat next to each other at Quidditch matches, at staff meetings, in the Great Hall. Harry hadn’t really noticed before how much time they really spent together. Neither was prone to public displays of affection, so, honestly, nothing much had changed in their day-to-day interactions.

The two chatted with the other professors and staff in the box for the bit of time before the game kicked off. Mostly, everyone was excited for the term to end and they all wanted to share what they were doing with their time off.

The game started up and everyone turned forward. Harry and Severus shifted closer to each other and the heated bubble of air Severus had charmed up for them. They watched the players take to the sky and Hooch toss the snitch up to get things going. Soon enough, the players were zooming this way and that. The bludgers smashed from player to player. The stands roared and booed where needed. Severus and Harry didn’t have a team in game and watched idly as the game went back forth.

“Potter,” Severus said, sometime close to halftime. “I would like to ask you something.”

“Yeah, sure.” Harry’s brow creased at the formality of the request. “What do you need?”

“Every year, in December, there is an end of year Potioneers Award Banquet.”

Harry turned his head to look at Severus’ profile. The man’s posture was stick straight, and his muscles tightly held. His fingers were curled into fists in his lap. Harry nodded and looked back out at the pitch. The Hufflepuff seeker zipped past.

Severus continued, “If you are amenable, I would like to ask you to attend. With me, obviously.”

“As your date.”

Severus’ Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and he bit out a response. “Yes.”

Harry grinned and placed a hand on Severus’ thigh. “I’d love to. Thanks for asking.”

Severus gave a quick nod and let out a deep sigh.

Harry’s grin brightened and he asked, “Were you nervous to ask me?”

Severus brow contracted. “Of course not. We have an arrangement.”

Harry nodded and gave Severus’ thigh a quick squeeze. “We do.”

Severus sniffed and brought his hands up to blow into them. Nagini’s poison had left Severus with loads of circulation issues. He was always the first to complain of cold in the fall. The first to add logs to the fireplace in winter. Harry took Severus hands between his own and rubbed. Severus flinched, but then nodded and shifted closer.

Harry smiled and muttered an extra warming charm over them.

******

The Potioneers Award Banquet was held at a castle in the Cotswolds. It was a garish place that couldn’t have seen an update since the Elizabethan age, lit with torches and fireplaces. A lilting violin music rang out in the background. The furniture was all heavy, dark wood with velvet accents and luscious fabrics.

The event was rather small. It hadn’t occurred to Harry until now that Potions Masters were a rare breed. There were a couple dozen potioneers in attendance plus their dates, spouses, or partners. Altogether, Harry thought there were maybe seventy-five people lining three great tables.

Harry and Severus were side-by-side at the third table. They were sat towards the front of the room where a podium and table holding a large trophy stood. Horace Slughorn, officially fully retired, sat beside Harry. On the other side of Severus, there was a witch chatting Severus’ ear right off his head. Her husband was sat beside her.

Harry’d understood very little of the conversation around him, but the food was absolutely fantastic. They’d been served a Caesar salad and a corn chowder for starters. Dinner was roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and Brussels sprouts. Pudding was a banoffee pie. Wine and ale were in abundance. Harry was stuffed to the gills. He settled back in his chair and laid his arm across the back of Severus’, letting his fingers graze up and down the soft fabric of the man’s dress robes.

“Master Snape has never brought anyone with him before.” A witch across from Harry placed her elbows on the table, and leant forward with a smile tugging at her lips. “Of course, very typical of him, the first person he deems worthy would be the Man Who Lived.”

Harry laughed, a bit awkwardly, and he shrugged. “Well.”

Slughorn chortled. “Our Severus does nothing by halves, that much is very true. I remember when he was my student, his NEWTs year it was, in fact, he was determined to create a potion that would make the user impervious to the Cruciatus Curse. I told him, I said, ‘My boy, it can’t be done. That is what makes them unforgivable.’ And he did not care one whit.” Slughorn shook his head. “He said he could and he was going to do it.”

Harry’s mouth pulled up on one corner as he listened. Severus reached under the table and squeezed Harry’s thigh. Harry turned his head and was surprised to find Severus so close. His eyes struggled to focus for a moment, but when they did, Harry smiled and wrapped his fingers more firmly around Severus’ shoulder. Harry asked, “You good?”

Severus nodded and turned his attention to the conversation as his fingers traced the seam line of Harry’s trousers. Harry let his legs fall open a bit.

The people around them started oohing and ahhing. Slughorn must have finished his story, and there must have been a triumphant victory at the end of it, because the man was beaming and everyone was looking fondly at Severus. Severus had his lips pressed together, but he was blushing, pink and lovely, and it made something tight and hot clench in Harry’s gut.

The room went quiet as an older witch approached the podium. She was dressed in dark robes buttoned up to her throat, much like the ones Severus wore when he was teaching. Her hair was pure white and scraped up into a high ponytail. She pressed her wand to her throat and started speaking, her voice high and melodious. “Good evening, esteemed Potioneers of Britain.” She paused as the room clapped. Severus pulled his hand from Harry’s thigh and Harry pulled his from Severus’ shoulder to join them. “Thank you for joining us tonight for our annual gathering of camaraderie and scholarship. Each year we come together to learn, grow, and celebrate one of our own for accomplishments above and beyond the stringent standards of our guild. This year’s recipient is responsible for the high quality of fundamental skills emerging from our upcoming generation of new potioneers. He is the youngest witch or wizard to be named a professor at the illustrious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He taught many of you in this very room.”

There was a scattered applause at this. Harry smiled and joined in.

“And this year, he once again revolutionized the Potions world with a vaccine, with a ninety percent rate of effectiveness, against dragon pox.”

The applause grew.

“Master Severus Snape, please, join me here to accept your award.”

Harry stood and clapped wildly as Severus made his way to the front of the room. Severus arrived at the podium and met Harry’s eyes. Severus licked his lips and Harry swallowed. Severus’ posture straightened and his gaze swept the crowd.

“Thank you.” He smiled, small and tight. He looked at the trophy in his hands. “I’m proud to be here, as I am every year, among such sharp minds and careful hands. Thank you.” He looked at Harry one more time and said, “Thank you.”

The night rushed past after that. There was a handful of other speeches about the year’s potions advances and about goals for the coming year. There was more chatter at the table amongst each other. Harry was astounded at the atmosphere. The respect shown to Severus was humbling. His past associations and alliances didn’t seem to matter a jot to this crowd. They looked at Severus for what he did, every day, day-to-day. Severus preened and blushed in equal measure. Harry didn’t quite know what to make of it, but it was one of the more enjoyable evenings he’d had in a long while.

At the end of it, Severus and Harry said their good-byes. They walked out to the Apparation point and Harry grabbed Severus’ arm. “Wait. Can I take you somewhere?”

Severus brow scrunched up, but he nodded.

Harry wrapped his fingers around Severus’ arm and pointed to the trophy dangling from Severus’ other hand. “Hold tight to that.”

Severus lifted one brow. “Of course.”

Harry side-alonged Severus to his sitting room. Not the sitting room of his chambers at Hogwarts. The sitting room of his home in Devon.

Harry’d spent a lot of time planning this room out. He wanted it to be homey and comfortable. Welcoming and very much his. It had a fireplace with a river stone facade and an oak mantel. He had bookshelves on either side with his favorite books, knickknacks, and pictures of his friends and family. There was a soft, brown leather sofa and a matching loveseat. There was an armchair in a deep red color that he’d found in his family vault. A plush rug in earth tones ran under everything.

Harry took a deep breath and let go of Severus. “What do you think?”

Severus circled the room. He tilted his head to read the titles of the books. He took time to look at each picture. He pointed at the one on the mantel with him and Harry receiving their Orders of Merlin together. He paused for awhile at a photo of a young Lily Evans waving at the camera.

Harry swallowed. “Hagrid gave me that. When I was a first year, actually. He said he asked people for pictures and they contributed what they had. I don’t know who each picture came from, though.”

Severus nodded. “I remember when he asked.”

Harry pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Did you—”

“No, Potter. I did not.” Severus turned to Harry and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Fine.” He smiled, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t just a smidge disappointed. Harry pulled in another breath. “So, I’ve only got the ground floor done, but, do you want a tour?”

Severus nodded and stepped forward.

“You can leave that,” Harry pointed to the trophy still clutched in Severus’ grasp, “if you like. Right there on the mantel.”

Severus turned and set it down, right next to the photo of him and Harry.

Harry smiled at it and then grinned at Severus. “You didn’t tell me I was going to an award ceremony for the great Master Severus Snape.”

Severus shrugged and followed Harry into the kitchen. “It didn’t seem important.”

Harry shook his head. “Of course it’s important.”

Severus walked around the island Harry’d put in, running is finger over the marble counter top.

“You’re the first one to see the kitchen done.” Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a finger over his scar. “What do you think?”

Severus nodded. “You did this all yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry bit his lip. “I come out here on weekends, mostly.”

“I know.”

“Right,” Harry said. “It’s taking forever, but I think I could live here now. If I had to. I’d be sleeping on the couch, mind, but, yeah.”

Severus opened up the door to the pantry and walked inside and then back out again, nodding.

“Let me show you the office,” Harry said.

Severus walked behind Harry down the hallway. He said, “The brown one.”

Harry scoffed. “Cafe Au Lait.”

“Brown.”

The room wasn’t much. It had a desk and bookshelves. The shelves were filled with all of the books he’d inherited from the Black Library and some that were in his vault at Gringotts. Severus practically flew to them to investigate. The room also had a wall that was almost all windows, floor to ceiling. He’d had to place wards on the shelves to protect the books from the sunlight that streamed in during the day.

“You can borrow anything you like, obviously.”

“Privileges of dating Harry Potter. I did wonder when they would start.”

Harry chuckled and sat down at the desk. “I can take you up to the first and second floors as well. There’s not much there though. It’s mostly dust and bare beams.”

“What do you plan to do with all of this house, Potter?” He’d pulled out a tome and was flipping carefully through the pages. “Now that you’ve decided to never date again.”

Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He rolled his head against the chair back. “I don’t know. Leave it to Teddy, maybe.”

Severus took his book and sat in an armchair to Harry’s right. “I meant while you are alive, Potter.”

“The grounds are nice for Quidditch, and there’s a garden.”

Severus looked up, seemingly seeing the windows for the first time. “Gardening?”

Harry nodded. “I like to get my hands dirty.”

“Hm.”

“If nothing else, this house will keep me occupied for a few more years. I’m enjoying the process, more than I thought I would.”

“It is a very commendable home.”

Harry smiled at Severus. Severus looked back at him, and kept looking. Harry crossed his legs and twisted in his chair so he could see Severus better. He propped an elbow on the desk and his head on his hand.

“So far,” Severus added.

Harry’s smile grew. “Thank you.”

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off Severus. The man was lit mostly by moonlight, though there was a soft glow coming in from the hallway light. The house ran on muggle electricity, but Harry hadn’t bothered to switch the light on in here, not as he’d done for the rest of the tour. Severus had washed and brushed out his hair for the Banquet and it looked silky and blue in the moonlit shadows.

Harry said, “I like the way your hair curls up on the ends sometimes.”

Severus reached up automatically, but quickly caught himself and let his hand drop back to the book in his lap. He said, “The potion fumes usually do a decent job of weighing it down. I’m sure if I cut it and let it be, it would turn into the rat’s nest of cow licks you have.”

“Haha.”

Harry stood and walked over to Severus; he nestled in close, letting his knees bump Severus’. Severus looked up at him through dark lashes and heat pooled in Harry’s gut and his cock twitched.

“What book did you pick?”

Severus turned it so Harry could read the cover. Harry took it from his hands and sat in his lap instead. He settled his arse between Severus’ thighs and draped his legs over the arm of the chair. Severus wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist and pulled him close. He buried his nose against Harry’s neck.

“Potions for the Care and Growth of Dirigible Plums,” Harry read.

Severus hummed.

“What on earth would you do with a dirigible plum?”

“They are good for elucidation potions.”

“Do you keep some?”

“No. I’d like to. They are quite expensive and hard to find.”

Harry grunted his acknowledgment and dropped the book off the side of the chair. Severus grunted his disapproval, but Harry hushed him up by pressing a kiss to the frowning line of his mouth.

Severus only took a moment to kiss him back. His hand shifted to grip Harry’s hips and he licked his way into Harry’s mouth. Harry pushed his tongue forward to greet it. He groaned at the hot, slick presence sliding against his tongue.

Harry pulled himself up to straddle Severus’ lap. “I want you to fuck me, Severus.”

Severus’ mouth dropped open and his breath hitched. He gazed up at Harry with a line of concern deepening the wrinkle between his brow.

“Please, Severus.”

Severus ran his hands up from Harry’s hips to grip at his rib cage. Severus watched his hands, gaze seemingly caught on the rise and fall of Harry’s chest. He tightened his grip and Harry sank down until his hips pressed against Severus’ lower abdomen.

Harry kissed at Severus’ throat, forcing the man to push his head into the back of the chair. Harry pulled a soft lobe between his teeth and bit. Severus hissed and shifted his hands down to grab at Harry’s arse.

Harry whispered against the delicate shell of his ear, “You look so beautiful in the moonlight.” Harry felt the man swallow and he moved his mouth to kiss at his throat again, running his lips along the scars, and making Severus whimpered. Harry kissed his jaw line and said, “You are so sensitive here.”

Severus’ hips ground up against Harry and Harry could feel the hot line of his cock press against his arse.

Harry started at the top button and worked his way all the way down. He ran his fingers up the open line of skin he left behind and felt Severus shiver beneath him. He pushed the man’s robes, jacket, and button up off of his shoulders. Severus and Harry shifted about until they were off. Harry dropped them off the side of the chair to fall on top of the book.

Harry kissed one bare shoulder and then the other. “They’re freckly.”

Severus nodded, his hair mussing against the back of the chair.

Harry smirked, thinking of Severus spending summers with the sun kissing his small, pale shoulders, making them pink and warm.

Harry bent forward to kiss his lips, soft and slow. Severus unbuttoned Harry’s shirt and shucked it and his robes off behind him, never breaking contact with Harry’s mouth.

Severus ran his hands up Harry’s back and drew them back down, nails raking delightfully across Harry’s skin. Harry’s back bowed forward and he moaned.

Severus grabbed him by the hips and rolled his own upwards, over and over again, until Harry was panting and clutching at Severus’ broad shoulders.

Severus pulled his hands around and unbuckled Harry’s trousers. Harry reached down and undid Severus’. They took a moment for Harry to stand and pull everything off, and for Severus to shimmy his hips and slide off his own.

Severus’ tongue came out to drag along his lower lip as he took in the sight of Harry completely bare before him. Harry’s cock jumped beneath his heated gaze and Severus bit his lip.

Harry plucked at his own nipples, enticing them up into tight, pink pebbles. Severus tugged Harry back down to straddle his lap.

Harry took Severus’ hand and whispered a lubrication spell into it before guiding it down between his legs and then further back. Harry shivered as those long fingers found his hole and circled it. His hips jumped forward, rubbing the head of his cock against Severus’ sternum, when the first finger pushed in. They did it again, leaving behind a sticky smear, as the second one slid beside the first. By the time the third finger was worked inside him, Harry was huffing and groaning and bouncing on Severus’ hand.

Severus pulled his hand free and gripped Harry’s hip with one hand to shift him up. He slid lower on the chair and took his cock in the other hand. He lined it up beneath Harry, and the blunt tip of his cock nudged against Harry’s loosened hole. Harry held onto Severus’ shoulders for balance as he relaxed and pressed himself down. They moaned together as Severus sunk into Harry for the first time.

Severus hands went back to his hips and held tightly as he started driving his own up, and up, and up. Harry angled his hips until Severus’ cock was hitting his prostate with each press upward.

The right angle found, Severus pounded up into him without remorse, clutching Harry’s hips and watching him, always watching him.

Harry took his cock in hand and worked it to match Severus’ pace. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck.” Severus watched and bit his lip, his eyes going heavy-lidded, and his thrusts stuttering. The cock buried in his arse hardened further.

“You like to watch, Sev. Oh god, you like to watch me. I want you to watch me. Watch me touch myself for you.”

Severus cried out and his back bowed off the chair he as he came, hot and fast, inside Harry, almost bucking him off.

Severus sank back into the chair. Harry whispered the lubrication spell into his hand and wrapped his wet fingers around his cock. He looked at Severus’ blissed out face, at his kiss-swollen mouth, at the high blush on his cheeks, and he stroked himself. “So hot, Severus. So hot watching you come.”

Severus opened his eyes and raked them over Harry. He added his hand around Harry’s cock, so much larger than Harry’s own hand. It covered so much more of the hot silk of his skin. Harry let go, placing his hands on Severus’ chest, and left Severus to work his cock.

Harry pressed his forehead to Severus’ and panted. His sticky fingers came up to tangle in the long strands of dark hair.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. His muscles tensed and released, heat rose in his thighs, and his bollocks drew up tight. Everything went taut and light and the world went white and hot, and he came and came and came.

He opened his eyes and looked down. Severus’ belly and chest were striped white with his come. Harry was tempted to lick it off, but Severus spelled them both clean before he could. Harry closed his eyes again and settled down against the solid, pliant body beneath him.

Harry laid his head on Severus’ shoulder and reached up to trace the scar lines on his neck. “I called you Sev.”

Severus scoffed and smiled, a lovely, genuine thing. “I heard.”

“You don’t mind?” Harry reached up and traced the lines of his smile.

Severus said, quietly, “No.”

Severus turned his head, displacing Harry’s fingers, and looked at Harry. Harry lifted his head and kissed him, a simple chaste press. Then he settled back against his shoulder. Severus swallowed, his eyes closed, and he nuzzled his forehead to Harry’s.

Severus was handsome like this, still and open and loose. The lines on his face softened and his brow relaxed. His nose fit there perfectly. Harry ran his finger down the bridge of it. Severus caught it and pulled it down, away from his face and against his chest. Harry splayed his hand there. Severus was so strong and solid beneath him. He felt the ridge of a scar and stilled his hand over it.

Severus had been through so much. He’d seen and done and prevailed. Yet here he was: alive, hale and whole.

And Harry’s.

Harry’s chest fluttered and he licked his lips. He wanted nothing more in this world, in this moment, than for Severus Snape to be happy. He wanted to take care of him, wanted to feed him up, and make sure he slept. He wanted to make him feel cared for and loved and wanted.

Harry didn’t want to date any more, but what he and Severus were doing was nice. He could romance Severus a little if he wanted. It didn’t have to mean anything. It didn’t have to mean anything at all. Making Severus feel good made Harry feel good. He could do it more purposely from here on out, with no one the wiser, and they could both get something more out of it.

Harry sent his fingers out moving again, tracing around the pebbly edge of an areola. He said, “Will you go to the Weasleys’ with me on Christmas?”

Severus reared back and looked at Harry. His eyes narrowed. “For the arrangement.”

“Mmhmm.”

Severus sighed, breathy and annoyed. “Yes, I suppose. It sounds positively horrid, though.”

Harry scoffed and moved on to play with the peak of Severus’ pink nipple. “You’ll love it.”

“Doubtful. Stop that.” He swatted Harry’s hand and shifted his body to sit up. “I cannot sleep in this chair. I won’t be able to move in the morning.”

Harry stood up and stretched and went looking for his clothes.

******

The Burrow in December, on Christmas Day, was Harry’s happy place. If he could bottle the smell of it, the warmth of it, he would. And he would squirrel it away for every hard day he encountered during the rest of the year.

Snow had fallen the night before and there was a blanket of pure white around the house. Severus and he had crunched their way up to the house through it, Harry thanking him profusely and Severus, tightly wound and nervous (Harry could tell even if Severus would never admit it) informing him through gritted teeth that he’d better damn well be grateful.

Given the initial setting, Harry’s plan to woo and romance Severus was not off to the greatest start, but Harry had a plan. He’d spent all week getting his ducks in a row and now he was ready to send them off quacking, one by one, or something like that.

The first duck was the gift, tucked safely under the Weasleys’ Christmas tree. Harry could see it there, wrapped crisply in shiny green paper and tied up in a red and silver bow.

They were all gathered in the sitting room. All the Weasley children, spouses, and grandchildren. Plus Harry and Severus. They had eggnogs, apple ciders, mulled wine. There were biscuits and cakes and a fruit plate.

Severus sat in a wingback by the fire and Harry was on the floor between his legs, back pressed to the chair. Severus had had two cups of the mulled wine and would occasionally reach down and tug on Harry’s hair. Harry would huff and look back at him. Severus would sip at his drink and look away innocently.

“Dinner smells so good,” Ron said, ginger biscuit in hand.

“It really does.” Harry agreed. “Do you think she needs any help?”

Ron stood. “I’ll go see.”

It was still relatively early in the evening, the sun beginning to ride low on the horizon, but Harry’d been saving space for Mrs. Weasley’s Christmas ham with the honey glaze, her roast turkey and mashed potatoes covered in gravy, and her cranberry sauce with the bits of orange. Harry’s mouth watered.

He called out to Ron, “I could peel a potato or two, if needs must.”

Severus wrapped the hair at Harry’s nape around a slim finger and twirled it round and round.

Rosie knelt in front of the tree. Her brother Hugo and Percy’s little girl Molly were beside her. “I want to do presents before dinner.” She pouted her lip and huffed, “Mummy, I don’t want to wait.”

“Rose Cordelia Weasley.”

Rosie frowned and clenched her little fists in the fabric of her dress. “Sorry.”

Hugo leaned over and whispered in Rosie’s ear, making her face light up, then he grabbed Molly’s hand and the three ran out of the room and up the stairs.

“That can’t be good,” Angelina said and nibbled on a cracker.

“I’ll go watch them.” Victoire stood, straightened out her robes with an elegant fluff, and walked up the stairs. Fred II toddled his way up behind her.

Ron walked back into the room. “She, dad, Fleur, and Percy have got everything handled,” he plopped down on the sofa. “Mum said it’ll be two more hours.”

Harry heard a low whimper behind him. He wrapped his hand around Severus’ ankle and squeezed. “Do you need more wine, Severus?”

Severus stretched out the hand that was in Harry’s hair and scratched at Harry’s scalp. “No.”

Harry shivered and ran his fingers over the fine bones and tendons beneath his fingers.

Ginny cleared her throat. She picked up Peter’s hand and smiled at him where he sat beside her, then she looked at Harry. “Peter and me are spending Boxing Day at his mum’s.”

Harry glanced around the room. People were peeking over their glasses at him and Gin. Harry nodded. “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah,” Gin said. Her lips pressed into a tight smile, her brows lifted, and she asked, “What are your plans, Harry?”

“Uh, well.” Harry watched as she ran her hand up and down her date’s thigh. “I hadn’t given it much thought.”

Severus tugged Harry’s hair and bent forward slightly. “We could lay the tile out in the en suite.”

Harry grinned and turned his head to look up at Severus. Severus lifted a brow. “Yeah.” Harry looked back at Ginny, grin still creasing his face. “Yeah, that sounds like a lovely idea, Severus.”

“You’re helping Harry with his house?” Hermione asked, brow scrunched.

“He’s very helpful.” Harry nodded. “He’s come there, definitely.”

Severus choked and pushed forward, jostling Harry.

“Sorry, come round there.” Harry turned and smirked. “I meant he’s round there, definitely, once or twice.”

Severus glared in return, coughing a few times with his fist over his mouth.

The conversation moved on from there, to children and jobs. Harry and Severus did not have much to add to that topic. They stayed in their little corner of the room, Severus combing his fingers through Harry’s hair and Harry caressing his fingers over Severus’ ankle and eventually up his calf. He brushed and scratched at the fine hair he found there. The whole thing was so pleasant and comforting, Harry almost fell asleep with his temple resting against the wool of Severus’ trousers.

Dinner woke him right up, though. It was loud, as always, and delicious. Even Severus ate seconds. Harry had thirds.

Then, they all piled back into the sitting room, stuffed and a bit tipsy. Severus took up his seat in the corner armchair again. Instead of sitting at his feet, Harry plunked himself down on the arm of the chair, hip nestled into Severus’ shoulder, and he draped his arm over the back of the chair behind Severus’ head. The kids circled the tree as if it was their prey. Victoire declared herself in charge of the gifts. She picked each one carefully out of the stack, handing off to the other kids for dispersal around to the tagged individuals.

Weasley sweaters were unwrapped. Unfortunately, given the last minute invite, Severus did not receive one, but Mrs. Weasley promised she would get right on it. Harry swore he would hold her to it, promising to check in on its progress once a week. Severus pinched Harry’s thigh, making him yelp.

Harry got loads of candy and finger painted masterpieces, a book on defense tactics for flyers, and Mr. Weasley bought Harry a tool box, a muggle one. It had more gizmos and gadgets that Harry knew what to do with. He thanked him a million times and showed it off to Severus, who seemed genuinely intrigued. Severus got a few gifts, bottles of liquor mostly, but also some fancy flasks and jars.

Then, right at the end, Severus was handed the shiny green one.

“Oh, that’s from me,” Harry said and the whole room turned to watch. Harry licked his lips and watched Severus untie the bow and peel off the paper. His thin, delicate fingers taking great care to be precise with the whole endeavor, he soon unveiled a simple cardboard box. Severus lifted the lid and pulled out a bundle of dirigible plums. Harry swallowed. “Do you like it?”

A crooked tooth tugged his bottom lip into his mouth and Severus nodded. He looked at Harry and said, “Thank you.”

“Is that one of those things that float around Luna’s house?” Ginny asked, her nose wrinkled.

“They are quite useful in potions.” Severus said, laying a hand on Harry’s thigh and tightening his fingers. “Genuinely, thank you, Harry.”

Harry smiled. He reached out and tucked a fallen lock of hair behind the man’s ear. He let his finger run down along his jawline. “Most welcome, Sev.”

A throat was cleared somewhere in the room and the very last of the gifts were handed out. Once everything was opened, the kids dispersed to play with their new toys and trinkets. The adults drank a bit more and listened to Christmas carols. Ginny tried on the Stilt-lettos Peter had bought her while Mrs. Weasley and Fleur oohed and aahed over them.

Harry tried not to think too much about the fact that there had been nothing under the tree for him from Severus. They weren’t an actual couple. He wasn’t obligated. They’d always exchanged little things in the past, foodstuffs or books or other impersonal whatnots, but it wasn’t something that Severus had to do. After all, just his being there was a sort of gift.

“Well,” Harry said. “I think it’s time for Severus and me to head back to Hogwarts.”

Severus stood from his chair and straightened his robes. Harry shrank his gifts and placed them in his pocket. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley showed them to the door. Mrs. Weasley handed them platefuls of wrapped up leftovers and Mr. Weasley gave both of their shoulders a squeeze and a farewell.

They Apparated to the front gates of Hogwarts and started the long trek up to the entrance hall, snow crunching underfoot and falling gently from above. Harry huddled closer to Severus until they reached the doors and the warmth of the castle.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Harry said once they were inside.

Severus nodded. His hair sparkled a bit where the melting snowflakes had stuck. His nose was pink and his ears red. Harry rubbed at his scar and his chest fluttered, nervous for what he was about to do. His whole plan really centered around Severus agreeing to his next proposal. It was the most important duck in the row, the principal duck. He drew in a breath and pulled his shoulders back.

Harry asked, “Do you want to come up to my quarters?” at the same time that Severus said, “Goodnight, Potter.”

They stood and stared at each other there in the entrance hall. Severus blinked once, twice, his eyelashes fluttering against his pale skin. He opened his mouth, then licked his lips and shut it.

Severus shifted from one foot and then to the other. He lifted his chin, raked his eyes over Harry’s face, and said, “Alright.”

Harry couldn’t tamp down the grin that broke across his face. “Fantastic!”

He turned and Severus followed, and they made their way up to Harry’s quarters on the seventh floor.

Harry’d spent the day before cleaning his quarters until they shone. Candles had been strategically placed and lit to give off a soft, low light. One was even scented with bergamot and patchouli and vanilla. He’d queued up something romantic on his music player. He had a bottle of champagne chilling in the kitchenette area. It was all there, ready and waiting (quack, quack, quack). All Harry had to do was open the door. Harry took a deep breath. He put the key in the lock, turned it, and let it swing open.

Severus sucked in a breath behind him.

“So,” Harry entered his sitting room and looked back at Severus. “You know I’m not the most subtle person.”

“Clearly.”

“It’s not a big deal, really,” Harry said. He took the leftovers plate from Severus’ hands and sent both it and his floating to the kitchen. He turned back to Severus. “Can I take your coat, your robes?”

Severus took in the whole room, eyes shifting from one cozy corner to the next. He looked askance at Harry and then pulled off his winter cloak and his robes. Harry hung them up on a coatrack he kept by the door. Severus was down to his shirt sleeves and a black waistcoat.

Harry pulled all of his layers off and hung them next to Severus’. He used the toe of one shoe to pull off the heel of the other and then repeated the action until he was down to his mismatched wool socks (a missed duck), a worn-in pair of jeans that Hermione once awkwardly said hugged his arse nicely, and a deep red jumper.

Severus walked a few steps into Harry’s quarters. He’d been here before so it wasn’t new to him. The room wasn’t very big. Just enough for Harry. It had a nice big window opposite the entry door that looked onto the Quidditch Pitch. Right now though, you couldn’t see anything outside. The glass only showed the reflection of the fireplace and the candles, and vague outlines of Harry and Severus. A strong gust rattled the panes and white flakes caked up the corners.

“The storm is starting to kick up out there,” Harry said.

Severus nodded. “We made it in just in time, it seems.”

“Do you want a drink? I have champagne.”

Severus nodded. “I have a Christmas present for you, actually.”

“You do?” Harry asked and pulled the bottle from the ice. “Why didn’t you say before?”

“It’s not much.”

Harry smiled. “Can I have it?”

Severus walked over to his robes and rummaged around while Harry popped the cork. Severus walked to the kitchen with a small golden-wrapped box. Harry exchanged a flute of champagne for the gift.

Harry unwrapped the box and pulled the lid off. A quick breath was pulled from his lungs, and he croaked out a small, “Oh.”

Severus shifted on her feet. “My mother took it, the summer before our first year.”

Harry delicately removed the framed picture from the box. Two small children sat on the front steps of a house, a brown-bricked rowhouse that had clearly seen better days. One child had red hair, freckles, and wore a blue sundress with trainers. She had her skinny arm thrown over the shoulders of a gangly boy with dark hair and bright eyes. They were grinning up at Harry as if they’d just conquered the world.

Severus shook his head. “I don’t have any with just her.”

“I love it.” Harry sniffed and looked at Severus through a haze of tears. “I love it, Severus. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Severus pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, his cheeks going a bit pink. Harry walked over and placed the frame on the mantel. Severus followed him and brought the second flute of champagne with him, passing it off to Harry once his hands were free. They both watched the picture cycle through a few times before turning to each other.

“Happy Christmas, Severus.” Harry raised his glass.

Severus met the toast with his own glass and echoed, “Happy Christmas, Harry.”

Harry drank from his glass and Severus drank from his. Harry asked, “Will you dance with me?”

Severus’ brow drew together. “You hate dancing.”

Harry shrugged and walked over to his music player. He played with the knobs and dials until the thing started up on the song he wanted, something slow and sweet. He put his flute down next to the player and walked back to Severus in front of the fire. He took the flute from between the man’s fingers and set it on the mantel next to his gift. “I thought it would be a nice way to end the day.”

Severus lifted a single brow and reached for Harry. “Indeed.”

“Indeed.” Harry put one hand on each of Severus’ shoulders and nestled closer.

Severus licked his lips, his brows still mashed together above his nose, and wrapped his hands around Harry’s hips. Soon enough they were swaying to the rhythm and Severus looked down at Harry. He asked, “What are you doing, Potter?”

“Enjoying my Christmas, Severus. Care to join me?”

Severus grunted and tucked Harry’s head beneath his chin, then adjusted and lined his jaw with Harry’s temple. “I suppose. I had no other plans.”

Harry scoffed and brought his hand up to Severus’ nape, fingers playing in the soft hair he found there. Sleet lashed at the windows, the sound of it mixed with the music creating a cocoon-like feeling. They only existed in this moment, in this space. Harry pressed his lips to the beating pulse in Severus’ throat and flicked his tongue against it. Severus’ hands tightened on his hips.

Harry raked his fingers into Severus’ hair, clutching at it with both hands. He pulled back and kissed Severus, and Severus met him. Press for press, lick for lick, bite for bite.

Harry guided them across the room, stumbling and halting, to his bedroom door. He turned his body, lips never leaving Severus’, and kicked at the door until it opened. There were candles in here too, and clean sheets, and proper lube.

Harry walked backwards until his knees hit the bed and he plunked down. Severus kept his feet, but swiftly bent over to find Harry’s lips again. Harry reached between them and unbuttoned Severus from waistcoat to trousers to shirtsleeves. Severus stood up tall to shuck everything off, socks and shoes as well. Harry pulled his jumper over his head and got to work on his own trousers and socks. Harry tossed them off to the left somewhere and hooked his thumbs in his pants, but Severus was on him again before he could yank them down.

Severus crawled on top of him. His hands pulling and moving Harry towards the top of the bed until they were laid out, side-by-side.

Harry thrust his hips forward against Severus’ and smiled. He rolled on top of Severus and did it again. Severus threw his head back. This was going so much better than he’d hoped, better than he’d planned. Severus was moaning and eager and naked beneath him. So responsive it sent a shudder down Harry’s spine.

Harry sat up on his knees between Severus’ thighs. He twisted a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and silently Accioed the lube to his hand.

He shifted and moved until he settled on his stomach, tucking the bottle low on his chest, and took Severus’ cock into his mouth.

Severus bucked his hips and arched his back off the bed. He panted and groaned as Harry bobbed his head up and down.

Harry wrapped one hand around the base of the cock in his mouth and he drew the fingers of his other hand behind Severus’ bollocks. Severus stiffened and Harry stopped. Harry looked up the length of Severus’ body, meeting those dark eyes. Severus mouth was red and swollen, his lips parted and his breath huffing out between them. His hair was a mess, tousled in a distinctly shagged-out way. His hands gripped the sheets at his sides.

Harry began to pull away, ready to concede that he’d taken it too far outside of Severus’ own parameters for ‘friends with benefits’, but then Severus spread his legs, granting Harry more access. Harry’s eyes shifted across Severus’ face, he watched his Adam’s apple jump as he swallowed, watched him lick his lips.

Satisfied that permission had been given, Harry moved his finger further back and pressed. Severus threw his head back, the long line of his scarred throat thrust upward. Harry’s hips rutted against the sheets and he moaned around the cock in his mouth.

He applied lube to his finger and went back to work opening Severus up. The man was so tight, so hot, Harry didn’t know if he would last long enough to follow through with his intentions. He closed his eyes and focused on the work of his mouth, the work of his fingers, first one, then two, then three, until Severus was slick and open and ready.

Harry released Severus’ cock. He bit and licked his way back up to Severus mouth, where he pressed one final kiss and locked his eyes with Severus’ slightly wild ones. He asked, “You okay?”

Severus nodded and took Harry’s face in both hands. Severus pulled Harry down, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.

Harry shifted up to his knees. He hooked his hands behind Severus’ thighs and pushed them to his chest. Severus grabbed hold behind his knees. Harry took his cock in hand and guided it to Severus’ hole. He thrust slowly, carefully. When he had breached the first ring of muscles he fell forward onto his hands, one on each side of Severus’ head.

He bit his lip and circled his hips, working himself in until he was pressed fully against Severus, his bollocks touching the man’s arse. “God, Severus, you are so tight, so hot. So perfect.”

Harry kissed him and began to thrust in, out, in, out. Harry kept his eyes open to watch the play of emotions and feelings cross Severus’ face. He wanted Severus to feel wanted and needed, hot and amazing. He wanted him to feel exactly how Harry saw him in these moments, in all moments. Severus was strong and clever and beautiful. Especially right now, he looked open and wanton, his cheeks flushed, his pupils dark, his mouth parted. His hands trembled where they clutched at Harry’s shoulders.

“So beautiful, so fucking beautiful.”

Harry increased his pace; the sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air. Harry shifted down to his elbows, adjusting the thrust of his hips until Severus’ eyes squeezed shut and his head pressed back into the pillow. Harry brought his hands to cradle Severus’ head and pulled him back. He wanted to watch his eyes. He wanted to see him break and open and come. For him, for Harry. He rubbed his thumbs along his cheekbones as they watched each other

Severus wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, eyes never losing contact with Harry’s.

“I want you to come for me, Sev.”

Severus breath hitched and he turned his face to press it into the palm of Harry’s hand, his breath panting hot and humid against Harry’s skin. He shuddered and Harry felt the hard line of his cock trapped between their bellies grow stiffer, wetter.

Severus lips parted, and on a whisper of a breath he said, “Harry,” and closed his eyes.

“Open your eyes. Open them,” Harry said. “I want you to come, let me see. I want to see you.”

And Severus did, his body tensing and flexing, bucking and going hard and rigid under Harry. His come hit Harry’s belly hot and wet.

Harry groaned and pushed in once, twice, three times more and he was falling over the edge and coming, and coming, and coming, along with Severus.

Harry collapsed, a panting, sweating mess, on top of Severus. He kissed his neck, his shoulder, and then rolled off of him.

He caught his breath, waiting for it to slow and reach a normal pace, before glancing over at Severus. Severus looked well-shagged and absolutely delightful. Harry licked his lips and said, “Stay.”

Severus nostrils flared and he swallowed.

“Please, stay,” Harry whispered.

Severus nodded his head against the pillow, mussing his hair up further.

Harry scooted over and laid his head on the man’s shoulder. Severus arm snaked under him and pulled him in tight and close.

******

The dull grey light of morning crept into Harry’s bedroom, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon, sunbeams hitting the fresh snowfall and reflecting upwards. The low warble of a brave bird could be heard somewhere outside the window.

Harry was awake, in bed, on his side, propped up on an elbow, head in his hand. Severus lay next to him, on his stomach, dead to the world. His face smashed into the plush pillow, only one closed eye visible. His lips were parted and Harry could just see a hint of his pink tongue. His hair was in absolute tangles and hung haphazardly over his cheek and forehead. Harry reached out and tucked it all away behind a soft ear.

Severus snored. He’d snored all night. A smile tugged at Harry’s lips and he buried his face in his pillow. He turned his head and adjusted the pillow’s fluffiness so he could continue staring, observing the man in his bed.

Severus slept curled in on himself. He held his arms close to his body, even right now. He had his hands tucked beneath his chin in loose fists. He hadn’t kicked or kneed Harry once. Almost as if he was afraid of taking up space in Harry’s bed.

When Harry had woken in the dark an hour or so ago, he’d found himself latched to Severus side, his legs entwined with Severus’, his arm wrapped around his middle, his face pressed against his shoulder. Harry’d drooled on him.

Harry couldn’t believe Severus was here. He’d planned to woo and romance, but he’d never been very good at it. Maybe it was easier because Severus didn’t love him, didn’t expect more from him than he could give, as Gin and Elliot had. This arrangement with Severus, it was just so simple, so easy. They just understood each other. They were a lot alike really. Imperfect in the same ways. Complementary where they were different.

Harry felt content and at peace.

And, maybe, this was good for Severus, too. Each wall Harry breached, Severus seemed responsive and eager to have Harry there, inside with him. To have Harry touch him and care for him and be there. Just two lonely, broken men, making each other happy and whole. Harry could do this forever.

******

Harry knocked on the door of Severus’ quarters. He straightened up his shirt and flattened his fringe. Christmas was three days ago and he hadn’t seen Severus much since then. Since it was the holidays, there was no grading or staff meetings. Meals were taken more casually and the professors could go the whole break without seeing each other.

Harry’d taken that time to work on his house. He’d invited Severus to come with on Boxing Day, as he’d told Gin and the others he would, but Severus declined. He said he’d had infirmary brewing to finish up.

The door opened and Harry grinned. Severus was dressed casually in well-fitted black trousers and a simple button-up, undone at the collar.

“Hello, Severus.”

“Potter.” Severus stepped back and let him in.

His quarters were always cozy and warm. Books were always piled on every flat surface. The room always smelled of lemons and that something woodsy and smoky that seemed to linger around Severus.

Harry said, “Did you get all your potions brewed for Poppy?”

Severus nodded and walked to the kitchen. “Tea?”

“Sounds lovely, yeah. Thank you.”

Harry sat on the sofa and twisted his body to watch Severus put together a tea tray. Severus had a lovely set that had been his mum’s. It was white with a dark blue patterned design. An old heirloom that had been passed down from one generation to the next. It was fine and delicate. It made Harry a little sad to think Severus was the last Prince, that he’d have no one to pass it down to. Severus added one last thing to the service: a plate of Harry’s favorite biscuit, Jammie Dodgers.

Severus let the tray float behind him and then settle on the coffee table while he settled himself on the opposite end of the sofa.

They put their tea together and talked about the upcoming term, Harry endlessly grateful for the break from grading and Severus lamenting the return of the wretched children. Harry told Severus about the progress he’d made on his en suite. Severus told Harry about how he’d lost a cauldron in a melting incident when Minerva came down to distract him and ramble on and on, asking about what they’d done on Christmas Day. Harry teased him a bit about it, much to Severus’ displeasure.

“Do you want the last biscuit?” Harry asked.

Severus shook his head. “I only get them out for you.”

“Uh huh. I’m pretty sure a saw three or four disappear into your mouth.”

With a straight face Severus replied, “You saw nothing.”

Harry scoffed and grabbed the last one from the plate.

Severus leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and watched Harry. “Are you avoiding discussing today’s headline?”

“No. I just, honestly, don’t care.”

Severus hummed.

“I never promised Elliot anything. He can tell the Prophet whatever he’d like.” Harry shook his head. “If I didn’t leave this job and go back to the Auror Corps for Gin, I certainly wouldn’t bother for him. And I definitely didn’t even hint to him at anything of the sort.”

“I feel perhaps our little…game has only made it worse.”

“He’s angry, you mean.”

Severus shrugged.

“He and Gin can form a club then.”

“A truly prestigious group.”

Harry laughed. “A group forever destined to remain at two. Because there will never be another ‘other half’ of me.”

Severus looked away, swiped his tongue across his lips, then looked down at the tea cup in his hands.

Harry put his cup down on the table and shifted to the middle of the sofa. His heart was pounding in his chest. He reached over, took Severus’ cup, and placed it on the table in front of them. He pulled one leg up underneath him and turned to face Severus.

“Hey,” he said.

Severus scoffed, still looking down into his lap.

Harry grabbed Severus’ chin between thumb and forefinger and turned his head. Severus met his eyes and looked down at Harry’s lips. Harry kissed him. A chaste press. He pulled back, giving his eyes a second to focus, and saw Severus had his closed. Harry leaned in and kissed him again, and again. He nibbled his bottom lip and kissed the corner of his mouth.

Harry sat back on his heel.

Severus blew out a breath and moved his eyes straight ahead.

Harry said, “I’ve missed you the last few days.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah, you’re my friend, Severus.”

Severus swallowed and laid his head back on the couch, eyes to the ceiling. His neck stretched out for Harry’s perusal. The scars from Nagini crisscrossed in jagged slashes of silvery white and tender pink. Harry’s chest clenched at the sight of it.

Harry stood and Severus lifted his head to watch him. He moved between Severus legs and knelt down. Severus sucked in a shuddering breath.

With a hint of warning, Severus said, “Potter.”

Harry reached up and took Severus’ face in both hands, guiding the man’s lips down to his own. He slid his tongue past the barrier and found the push, pull response he was hoping for.

Harry pulled back and said, “You taste like a Jammie Dodger.”

Severus pinched Harry’s biceps and settled back, spreading his legs wider.

“Ow.” Harry said, though it hadn’t hurt. Much. He ran his hands up and down Severus’ thighs. Severus was so lanky and long, the hardness, the solidity of his body always had a way of surprising Harry. For someone that Harry had seen as untouchable for so long, the man was immensely touchable. “If you are going to be cruel, I will leave you here to it.”

“Promise?”

Harry smirked. He unbuckled Severus and unzipped him. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled everything down in one go. Severus wasn’t too hard yet, the pink, glossy head of his cock just beginning to peek out of his foreskin, but he was interested. Harry had no doubt he could get him there quick enough.

Harry kissed the tip and ran his tongue along the edges, dipping beneath the fold of skin. Severus hissed and rolled his hips. Harry moaned and took the whole length into his mouth.

Harry looked up and met Severus’ eyes and the cock hardened in his mouth. Severus liked to watch, Harry’d noticed. Harry pulled off and circled his tongue around the head. He let his mouth hang open and he let the head of Severus cock rest nestled there on his tongue. He undulated it against the sensitive bit of skin beneath the slit.

He wrapped the fingers of one hand around the base and he used the other to cup Severus’ bollocks, rolling them gently. Harry bobbed his mouth up and down, up and down. Severus grabbed two fistfuls of Harry’s hair and held on. The tension of the tug against his scalp had Harry whimpering and moaning around his mouthful, had him increasing his pace, had his own cock pressing pleasantly, frustratingly against his trousers.

The bollocks in his hand tightened and twitched and the cock in his mouth hardened as Severus came down the back of his throat with a suppressed roar.

Harry scrambled onto Severus’ lap and mashed his mouth to the other man’s, teeth clicking and hips rutting. Severus clutched Harry’s hips and pulled and pressed him, encouraging him along to his own climax. It hit Harry, bright and hot and fast.

Harry hugged Severus’ neck and nuzzled against the side of his head. “Severus.”

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle, hands gripping Harry’s shirt. He turned his face into Harry’s hair and breathed in deeply. “Harry.”

Harry pulled back and grinned. “That’s my second ‘Harry’ this week.”

Severus sighed, a deep, rumbly thing, and pushed at Harry to leave his lap. Harry stood and cast a cleaning charm over himself while Severus pulled his clothes back into place and buttoned back up.

Harry gently piled the cups back onto the tea tray and picked it up to carry the remnants to the kitchen, whistling as he went.

“I’m going to the Great Hall for lunch,” Harry said. “Care to join me?”

Severus, still sat on the sofa, shook his head. Harry walked over and looked down at him, Severus glanced up at him. They looked at each other for a long moment. Then Severus looked away.

“Alright.” Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “See you soon, yeah?”

Severus nodded. Harry nodded, too, then left Severus’ quarters.

******

Harry scooped eggs onto his plate. He grabbed two sausages— no, four— and added those. He picked up two pieces of toast. He slid a jar of orange marmalade closer to his plate, and one of butter.

“Hungry, Potter?” Minerva asked him.

“Starving.”

She lifted a brow and Harry could have sworn she was hiding a smile behind her tea cup.

“Will Severus be joining us this morning?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “Why?”

“Just curious. He hasn’t joined us for a meal in a few days.”

That was true, and Harry hadn’t been able to pin him down again since he’d been to his quarters a few mornings ago. “I can go find him for you, if you need me to.”

“Hm.”

Harry brow furrowed and he glanced at her, then went back to his breakfast. Harry had been trying not to think about Severus’ absence too much. Severus was a busy man, with his Potions research and his work at Hogwarts. Severus was known to miss a meal here and there anyway, the skinny bastard.

“I’m sure he’ll pop up eventually,” Harry said, spearing a sausage link. “As much as he’d like to, he can’t actually survive off snark and sarcasm.”

Minerva chuckled.

“I’ll bring a pastry down to him after I eat. Just to be sure.”

“Yes, keep him well fed, Mr. Potter.”

Harry smirked.

After breakfast, he wrapped a cheese danish up in a napkin and walked down to the dungeons. First, he knocked on the door to Severus’ quarters, not expecting a response, as he hadn’t got one the last few times he’d tried to visit. He didn’t this time either. He poked his head into the classroom, thinking maybe the man was prepping for classes next week, but it, too, was empty.

Severus had a private lab, down a passageway and up another, around a corner, and then up some stairs. Harry avoided going there for two reasons.

The first, if Severus was in his private lab, he was working. And Severus was a bear when his work was interrupted. Especially, when it was interrupted by a Harry Potter.

The second, Harry had gotten lost in the dungeons once when he’d dared venture forth into that abyss in search of the lab. Severus had laughed at him, an honest-to-Merlin belly laugh.

But if Minerva was concerned, Harry would check-in on him, even in his lab. He managed to find it after only one wrong turn. He knocked on the door and waited a moment before pushing it open.

Severus had his head bent over a steaming cauldron, his hair as stringy as ever, purple bruises under his eyes. His skin even seemed sallower than it’d been just a few days ago. It was like looking into the past. Harry’s brow creased and he made quick steps forward into the room.

“Severus. You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be.” Severus bit out, not bothering to look up.

Harry sighed, resigned to this version of Severus, but also concerned and worried. He bit his lips and plowed forward. “Hadn’t seen you in a few days.’

“It’s winter hols.”

“I know.” Harry rubbed at the scar on his forehead. “I brought you something to eat, in case you’d forgotten about breakfast.”

Severus continued stirring and watching his potion.

“’s just a pastry.”

Severus banged his stirring rod on the side of his cauldron. The resultant metallic clang hurt Harry’s ears and he winced. Severus drew in a breath and said, “Thank you, Potter.”

“Yeah.” Harry laid the wrapped up offering on the table, well away from any ingredients. “No problem.”

Severus pulled a cutting board over and threw a bunch of green sprigs Harry could never hope to identify down on top of it.

“You sure you’re okay?” Harry asked, instead of what he wanted to ask.

Severus sent Harry a baleful look and began chopping.

Harry threw his hands up in surrender. He licked his lips, sighed, and said, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

He backed out of the lab. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t known Severus could be grouchy. He just hadn’t been on the other end of it in a while. And, yes, a little part of Harry thought they were beyond that. Especially now. But, really, of course, they weren’t. They weren’t anything. They weren’t really dating. Severus was not actually his boyfriend or his partner.

He closed the lab door behind him and made the long trek back through the dungeons and up to the ground floor. Severus was his friend, though, and he could see something was not right. He knew not to push just yet. Harry shoved all of his worry and concern deep down where it sent his stomach churning. If Severus needed some time to himself, Harry could give him that.

******

“Are you bringing Snape to the Order New Year’s party?” Ron asked.

Harry put down his butterbeer and answered, “I haven’t asked him yet, but I plan to, yeah.”

“You should probably get on that. Party’s tomorrow.”

Harry nodded and looked down into the foamy swirl in his mug. “He’s been hard to grab onto this last week. With his Potions research and everything.”

The Three Broomsticks was empty. It was a cold Thursday night and the Hogwarts population was mostly still away at home for the winter holiday.

“I guess at least with old Snape you don’t have to worry about him selling your business to the Prophet.”

“True.”

“Cause, I’ll be honest, mate. I don’t ever want to have to look at your bare arse over my morning coffee ever again.”

Harry scowled. “You should be so lucky.”

Ron scoffed. “If Snape turns you down though, me and Hermione can convince Gin to go with you.”

“Still going on about that. Wait…” Harry’s brow drew together. “What about Peter?”

“Over.” Ron propped his elbows on the table. “She came over on Boxing Day in tears. Going on and on about what a dickhead he is. I don’t know. Hermione can probably give you the details if you want to know.”

Harry didn’t.

Ron continued, “But, she is all sad and single now, right before the last party of the season. She’s probably desperate for a date for tomorrow, you know how she is. I bet I could get her to go with you. If you want.”

Harry downed the last of his drink. “Tempting, Ron.” Harry stood up and drew on his winter cloak. “Real tempting, very romantic. Being someone’s desperate last minute date.”

Ron waved his hand around. “You know what I meant.”

“I’ll find my own dates, thanks.” Harry wrapped his scarf around his neck. “See you tomorrow, Ron.”

Harry made his way out the door and onto the street, the cold sting of the winter air had his shoulders drawing up to his ears and Harry wishing he could Floo directly back to his quarters at the castle. He turned and began to make his way up the street when he saw the unmistakable black silhouette of Severus Snape walking his way. A grin broke across Harry’s face, his breath releasing in a white puff of smoky air in front of him.

Harry jogged towards him, calling his name. He must have surprised him because Severus tensed all over and swung his eyes up as soon as he heard Harry.

“Hello, stranger.” Harry still had what had to be a goofy grin on his face. “Bloody freezing today.”

Severus nodded and shuddered, his own breath clouding the area in front of him.

“I don’t think even Dumbledore could have kept up a warming charm against this, eh?”

Severus rolled his eyes and relaxed.

“Where are you heading?”

“Puddifoot’s”

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. “Haha.”

“Apothecary.”

Harry smiled. “Of course. I’ll walk with you.”

“If you’d like,” Severus said, and continued walking.

“I wanted to ask you something, actually. You probably got an invitation already, to the Order New Year’s get-together.”

Severus nodded slowly.

“Do you want to go together?”

They’d reached the front of the shop. Severus stopped and turned to Harry. His brow wrinkled and he bit his lip.

Harry smiled and said, “As part of the arrangement, you know.”

Severus pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No.”

Harry reared back. “Oh.”

“I think you have made your point to your dalliances and all of your annoying matchmakers.” Severus sneered. “I don’t feel like playing along anymore.”

“Playing?”

Severus’ brow lifted and he shrugged. “It was only a game, to trick people.”

“I mean—”

Severus added, slowly, “And I don’t feel like playing your game anymore.”

Harry shook his head. “Oh. Okay. You don’t—” Harry swallowed, and swallowed again. Something was raising in his throat, in his chest. He spoke again and it came out squeaky. “That’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine.” His tone was flat, devoid of anything, pity, humor, regret. Severus was a complete blank slate and Harry did not know what to write there to change his mind, to make him see that Harry had been playing, but, he hadn’t meant to play with Severus, not really.

He never meant for Severus to feel like anything less than…Harry didn’t know. He didn’t know what he wanted Severus to feel. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from doing something ridiculous.

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled out instead. He rubbed at his scar, flattened his fringe, and backed away. “I’ll leave you to your shopping then, I guess.”

Severus spun on his heel and pulled open the door. He called over his shoulder, “Have a nice day, Potter,” and disappeared into the apothecary.

Harry sniffed, wet and shuddery with a growing thickness in his throat. His vision blurred and he chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. He backed away, turned, and rushed back to the school.

******

Harry lay in the center of his bed, spread eagle, and stared at the ceiling.

That was not at all how he’d imagined it would go.

He hadn’t thought of the end of the arrangement at all. It had been going along swimmingly. Sure, the press hadn’t let up just yet, and Ron and Hermione were still trying to reunite him with Gin. But it had all mattered significantly less when he had Severus at his side. It was so much easier to ignore.

Harry brought his hands to his chest, felt the gentle rise and fall of his ribcage. What had he done to put Severus off? Had he pushed too hard, gone too fast? They weren’t dating, they weren’t together. Harry’d just been enjoying himself, and he thought Severus was too. He could have continued on like they were forever. Harry turned over on his stomach and buried his face in his sheets.

Forever. Merlin, he was an idiot.

And now he had to go to some stupid party. Alone.

Or, he could just not go.

He could stay home and brood and mope about his quarters. Welcome the New Year in with a good sulk.

It sounded dismal and perfect, really.

And Ron and Hermione would never let him get away with it.

They’d be at his door, at his floo, sending a brigade of owls, the moment they realized he wasn’t there, and that would be just as bad as admitting that Severus Snape had thrown him over and he was having a good cry about it.

The truth of it. Because that is what this felt like. Like a breakup.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

******

There wasn’t a whole lot different about being a dumped person at home to being a dumped person in the middle of a party. It was louder, Harry supposed. And he had on jeans instead of trackies.

The Order New Year’s Party was being held at Bill and Fleur’s cottage. A nice enough place, great view, not that you could enjoy the beach-side location on a moonless night. The sound of the crashing waves and the rattle of the windows in the sea breeze was nice. Though, again, you couldn’t hear it over the music or the chatter or the laughter. Harry had no idea how they’d squeezed the whole Order in here, plus a dance floor, plus food and drink. If Harry didn’t know better, he’d swear magic was involved.

Harry stuffed himself in a corner, milking a cup of something sweet and pink and alcoholic, ignoring the looks being sent his way. Ron and Hermione had already pestered him about Severus. He told them Severus wasn’t coming, not with him, at least. It had been awkward and disheartening and Harry had hated every second of it.

Almost as much as he hated being here, watching everyone dance, watching couples hang off each other and whisper in each other’s ears.

He wanted Severus here with him. He wanted to whisper things in his ear. He wanted Severus to hold him close on the dance floor. He wanted to abscond off with him to some secret nook and kiss the man breathless. Touch him until he was panting and gasping and debauched.

He wanted to take Severus home, watch him sleep, watch his chest rise and fall, watch his eyelids quiver and his fingers twitch with sleep.

Harry downed his drink and left his corner in search of a refill. He made his way to the drinks table and picked up a ladleful of the pink punch. Someone bumped him and he splashed a little over the rim of his cup and onto his hand.

“Oi,” he said and spun around.

“Sorry!”

“Careful, ma—”

The words stopped as he came face to face with Ginny. A grin broke across her face. “Harry!” He pulled his cup up high above his head just in time. She threw her arms around his neck. She pulled back, but kept her hands on his shoulders. “I’m so glad you came. Ron and Hermione told me you’d been dumped. You okay?”

Harry looked around for his gossipy friends and pursed his lips. “I’m fine, yeah. Sad, obviously.”

Ginny nodded. Her eyes shone, she’d obviously had a couple of the pink drinks herself. “I broke up with Peter, like, a week ago. So, I absolutely get it.”

“I heard that. From Ron and Hermione.” He wanted to kill them both.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders. “We’re both single then, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

Gin reached up and cupped Harry’s cheek. “I miss you.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and scoffed. His pulse kicked up and pounded against his temples. The world seemed to spin. He had no idea what to do with Gin in this moment, but he’d had just enough to drink that his reactions were molasses compared to hers.

“Do you want to dance?”

“Um.” What game was she playing? Harry shook his head and opened his eyes. The room was so loud and crowded. Maybe he had misheard her.

Ginny bit her bottom lip. She put her drink down on a table, then took Harry’s and did the same. She took Harry’s hand and pulled him away, through the crowds. He stumbled along after her.

“Gin, I really don’t—”

“Shh.” She turned to him and placed a finger on his lips. “I’m just taking us somewhere private. Just to talk.”

She smirked and nodded.

Harry pulled his lips in, away from her finger, and stared at her.

They navigated the stairs, Ginny leading them around people and obstacles. They made it to the second floor, down a corridor and into a dark room.

She let go of his hand and he jerked to a stop and looked around, squinting. Harry cast a lumos spell and then had to shut his eyes against it.

Gin closed the door and charmed it locked.

She smiled. “So no one interrupts us.”

They were in a spare room that seemed vaguely familiar. Harry looked for the safest place to sit down. Definitely not the bed. There was a set of matching chairs by the window. He lowered himself into one and indicated the other to Gin. He shifted his bum in the seat and crossed his legs, then he uncrossed them and leaned forward, elbows to knees.

Gin didn’t take up the chair across from Harry. She sank to her knees in front of him.

Harry reared back. “Gin.”

“Harry, I made a mistake.” She pressed herself between his legs and laid her hands on his thighs. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Harry blew out a breath. He gathered his thought and shook his head, feeling suddenly more sober. “We were terrible together. You were always mad at me, Gin. And I was miserable.”

“That’s not true. Not at all. I was never mad at you. I wanted you to…to…” She shook her head. “You have so much potential. I only ever wanted for you to be happy.”

“I wasn’t. I hated being an Auror.”

Her fingers tightened around where they gripped his legs. “You are better than a Defense professor at Hogwarts.”

“I like teaching. I’m good at it.”

“You were an amazing Auror.”

“You hated the house I bought.”

She released his thighs and sunk back on his heels. “You didn’t even ask me if I wanted it.”

“You hated my clothes, my hobbies, my taste in…books, music, everything.”

Harry watched her Adam’s apple bob. She licked her lips.

“You expected me to be Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. And I am just Harry, Gin. It was too much.”

Gin huffed and shot to her feet. She put her hands on her hips and said, “And Snape gets you, does he? He understands ‘Harry’.”

Harry looked askance at her.

She went on, “He couldn’t understand a gnat.”

Harry stood. “He understands me just fine. Better than you ever did.”

Her face was red. Her lips were tight and pursed as she spit out her next words. “And he left you, too.”

Harry reared back as though slapped. “Fuck you, Gin.”

“He is cold and ugly and mean.”

“He is brave and brilliant and selfless.” Harry shouted. “He doesn’t force me into some mould.”

“You are better than him, in every way.”

“Stop it! I am not better than anyone. What is wrong with you?”

“You could be so much more, Harry. We could be so much more, together.”

“I love him. I don’t love you.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open.

Harry licked his lips as what he just said settled in, filled him up, and found a home. “I love him. I can never make you happy. And you will never make me happy. I don’t want to get back together with you. If Severus never wants me,” Harry’s voice cracked and he swallowed, “never wants me again, I would still not want to be with you.”

One tear, then two spilled over Ginny’s lashes. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, then spat out, “Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Go away then. Leave.”

Harry’s body went slack. He took a step towards her. “Gin—”

“Now.”

Harry nodded, turned, and left the room.

Harry’s heart was in his throat. He loved Severus. He knew it. As if a light had been switched on inside his head. He wanted Severus to be happy. He wanted him to feel safe and wanted and valued, in the way that he made Harry feel all of those things.

He wanted to be with him. All the time. He was the first person Harry thought of when something happened, when he needed to celebrate, to vent, to just breathe.

Severus. Severus was everything.

Could Severus feel the same way? If Harry put the option of a real relationship before him, with all of the promises and trust, would he jump in with Harry?

He needed to fix what he’d done, what they’d done. If Severus didn’t want him the same way, Harry would learn to live with it, but he could not lose the man’s friendship. If Severus needed to stop, Harry would stop. But he needed Severus to know that he couldn’t lose him. He needed Severus in his life. But he needed to know if you could have more.

He had to try.

And he had to try right now.

Harry ran from the cottage. He heard people shout out to him, trying to call him back, but Harry couldn’t stop. He skidded onto the Apparation spot and spun away to Hogwarts. He raced through the gates, across the grounds, and burst into the Entrance Hall. Down the steps to the dungeon and right to Severus front door, where Harry pounded his fists against the dark wood.

“Severus, Severus, Severus. Open the door, Severus. It’s an emergency. Severus!”

The door whipped open. Severus stood at the threshold, concern and anger and annoyance having a full on battle across his face as he took in every inch of Harry.

Harry had to get his piece out before Severus caught on that he wasn’t bleeding, bruised, or in any other way worse for the wear. But he couldn’t catch his breath. His bent forward, hands to thighs, air puffing from his mouth. Between his gasps, he stuttered out, “Give me a moment.”

Severus grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him up to eye level. His eyes flitted between Harry’s, the worry line between his brow creasing ever more deeply. “What is wrong with you, Potter?”

Harry swallowed and clutched at Severus’ biceps, tangling their arms together. He smiled and said, “Hey, hello.”

Severus rolled his eyes and released Harry.

Harry licked his lips, his breath settling. “You weren’t at the Order party.”

“Did you imagine I would be?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I didn’t. Still missed you though.” Severus felt so solid beneath his hands. “Can I come in?”

Severus’ tongue peeked out and licked at his top lip. “I suppose.”

Harry closed the door behind him and took off his outer robes. He’d broken out into a bit of a sweat during his mad dash here. Would it be rude to ask for a drink? Harry blew out the last of his lost breath and glanced at the kitchen and over at Severus with puppy eyes.

Severus, arms crossed, asked, “Would you care for a drink?”

“Oh Merlin, Severus, I’d love one. Thank you.”

Harry stepped into the sitting area. There was a rumpled blanket on Severus’ armchair, a book on top with a scrap of parchment sticking out of it like a bookmark. A cup of tea sat steaming on the side table. Severus returned and handed him a glass of water. He was wearing his flannel dressing gown over what looked like his pyjamas, a soft pair of pants and a thermal shirt. The thought of Severus cuddled on the couch with a book and a cuppa had Harry pressing away a smile and rubbing the sudden swelling in his chest.

Harry gulped down his drink and watched Severus snatch up his tea cup and sit on the sofa.

“So,” Severus crossed his legs and settled back in the corner of the chair, “you ran all the way from coastal England to Scotland to ring in the New Year in the dungeons.”

Harry brow wrinkled. “Has the year turned over?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s just a bonus then.” Harry came around and sat in the middle of the sofa, facing Severus.

Severus tensed, his fingers going white where they pressed into the porcelain of his tea cup.

Harry sat up straight and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to force anything on you, I swear. I heard you. The arrangement is off, over and done with.”

Severus turned away, gazing into the fireplace.

“You’re my friend, Severus,” Harry went on. “My best friend, I think.”

Severus looked askance at him.

“If what,” Harry shook his head, “happened between us made you uncomfortable or it upset you—”

Severus closed his eyes and groaned. “Stop, Potter.”

“I just don’t want to lose anything.” Harry bit his lip. “You.”

Severus blew a breath out of his nostrils and opened his eyes. “I am not some maiden. I am not in distress.” He sneered. “I am not uncomfortable or upset.”

“Good, great.”

“What we were doing was foolhardy and needed to end.”

“Foolhardy, but fun.”

“It would not have ended well.”

“I would argue that it, in fact, did not end well.”

Severus swallowed and tilted his head to the side, acknowledging the truth of Harry’s words.

“I was so miserable and alone at that party.”

“You weren’t alone.”

“Yeah, I was,” Harry said. “All I thought about was having you there with me.”

Severus shook his head. “It will fade.”

“This is different.” Harry rubbed at his scar and leaned forward. “I thought that I could separate what I wanted from what I was doing. But I didn’t, I couldn’t. I am attached and I missed you.”

Severus pulled in on himself, subtly. Harry didn’t think he even realized he’d done it.

“And, I don’t know, maybe I could have if it was someone else. Not you. Because it wasn’t nothing with you. It was everything. I was happy and light and full and excited, in a way I hadn’t been, ever. I want you, but I want all of you.”

Severus blinked, blinked again, and pursed his lips.

“I am only going to ask this of you once, I swear, because your friendship is—” Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. “But I have to know, okay.” Harry cleared his throat. “Severus, could we go out sometime, on a date, a proper date?”

Severus covered his eyes with his one free hand.

“With all the messy emotions and romantic glances and flowers and chocolate and all of that nonsense.”

Severus bent forward and put his tea cup down on the coffee table, his hands were trembling, and he said, “Since you will only ask once, I will only say this once.” Severus met Harry’s eyes. “I do not do relationships. I-I do not know how to do them halfway. You must be sure, Harry. I will not survive being cast aside, not by you.”

Tears stung the corners of his eyes. “I am all in, Severus. I promise.”

Severus shut his eyes. “Do you understand what you are offering? What I am taking?”

“I understand what I am giving you. Giving you happily, freely. I love you.”

Severus’ breath hitched and his hand came up to cover his mouth, as if he could swallow the sound back down.

Harry took his chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned his head. Severus looked at Harry’s lips and then pressed forward. Such a soft, sweet kiss, but Harry’s blood soared through his veins, hot and fast.

Harry cupped the back of his head, Severus’ fine hair silky beneath the pads of his fingers. Harry tilted his head and deepened the kiss. His tongue found Severus’ eager one and moved against it. Harry moaned and his fingers flexed.

“Severus,” Harry whispered against his lips. “Bedroom, Severus. Can we?”

Severus pulled back and ran his pink tongue over his swollen lips. His eyes glazed and heavy-lidded, he nodded and said, “Yes.”

Severus’ bedroom was dark, only lit by what light made it through the door. Severus led Harry to the bed and stilled him with his hands on Harry’s hips. His fingers clenched and unclenched as his eyes searched Harry’s.

“I’m sure, Severus. I promise.”

Severus’ fingers moved to Harry’s shirt and unbuttoned, top to bottom. He flicked the button on his jeans open and pulled down on the zip. Harry stepped back and pulled everything off, pants, socks, and shoes as well, until he stood before Severus in nothing at all. Severus pushed Harry to lie down on the bed. Harry shuffled to the center and watched Severus disrobe and join him.

Severus slid his leg between Harry’s thighs, applying the perfect pressure to Harry’s cock. Harry moaned and pressed his lips to Severus throat. He licked gently at the pulse point there and then pulled the skin between his teeth. Severus whimpered and rolled his hips.

Harry grabbed Severus by the hips and pulled him until Severus was on top of him, cradled between his legs. Harry lined their erections up and ground upwards. Severus met him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck, Harry.” Severus pushed up on his hands and watched Harry. His face slack and his eyes dark.

“You’re beautiful Sev, so beautiful like this.”

Severus crushed his mouth to Harry’s. He gripped Harry’s head as his pace increased. He moved to Harry’s earlobe, biting it and running his tongue along the shell of his ear.

“When you are open and wanting, Severus, it gets me so hard. So hard.”

Severus groaned and moved to kiss down Harry’s chest. He stopped at a peaked nipple and flicked his tongue across it. Harry pushed his chest up into the delicious heat and wetness of that wicked mouth. Severus raked his fingernails down Harry’s sides, bumping over each rib and making Harry’s skin burn delightfully.

Harry’s hips rutted up and up and up, searching for friction, for the touch of Severus skin. “Severus, please, please.”

Severus kissed and licked his way down Harry’s stomach, running his long fingers across Harry’s twitching muscles, until he reached Harry’s cock. Harry pushed up onto his elbows to watch.

Severus shifted back along the bed and settled in, pushing his hips into the bed once, twice before he took Harry’s cock in one hand. He wrapped the other around Harry’s thigh and kissed it low, on the sensitive, untouched skin of his inner thigh.

Then, he shifted and kissed the tip of Harry’s cock. Harry was already hard as stone, his foreskin pulled back and the glistening head revealed red and hot. Severus pink tongue tasted the precome wetting the slit. He groaned and wrapped his lips around Harry.

Harry brought a hand up to cradle the side of Severus’ head, running a finger over the delicate curves and whorls of his ear. Harry gently guided him up and down on his cock. “Fuck, your mouth, so hot.”

Severus circled his tongue and traced the length. He undulated his tongue in a way that had Harry’s toes curl into the sheets. Just when Harry thought he couldn’t take anymore, Severus pulled off. He took Harry’s hips in hand and tugged and pulled and flipped Harry over.

He had him up on all fours and kissed each blade of his shoulder, then down the length of his spine, then one cheek and then the other. He grabbed one globe of his arse in each hand and squeezed, then he pulled them apart.

“Oh, god, what are you doing?” Harry’d heard that men did this to each other, but had never experienced it, had never even thought of it applied to himself, but when Severus’ lips touched his hole, when his tongue licked and licked its way inside, Harry had no idea why he hadn’t. It was so dirty and wonderful and Harry’s cock jumped with each swipe and swirl of that sharp tongue.

Severus made Harry a panting, grunting, rutting mess as he opened him up. He applied one finger, then two, alongside his tongue. Working Harry until he was open and ready. He shifted up and forward, pressing his cock to Harry’s arse and bending down to kiss Harry’s bare shoulder, his neck. Severus grabbed Harry’s chin and pulled him around to kiss him, rough and deep, wet and panting.

“Tell me, Harry, tell me I can have you. Tell me you’re mine.”

“Yours. Yours, only yours, always.”

Severus groaned and pressed the blunt head of his cock against the wet, loose muscles of his hole.

“Oh, god. Take me, have me. All yours. All yours, I swear.”

Severus’ hands, so long and elegant, wrapped around Harry’s hips as he pressed himself into Harry, slowly, inch by inch. Harry gripped the sheets beneath him as Severus circled his hips and picked up the pace of his thrusts.

Harry widened the spread of his legs and angled his hips, shifting until Severus’ cock grazed his prostate each time he pushed in. Harry keened and held on. Pleasure coiled tight in his belly and his thighs trembled. His bollocks pulled up and he knew he was right on the edge, and then Severus stopped.

A chocked sobbing noise burst from Harry’s throat and Severus petted his sides to hush him.

Severus muttered a spell Harry didn’t recognize. When nothing happened, Severus growled and repeated the spell, louder. A mirror shimmered into being in front of Harry. The picture presented had both of them groaning. Harry, bottom lip bitten red between his teeth, hair disheveled, cock hanging heavy between his leg, and brow glistening with sweat, with Severus framed behind him, hair similarly mussed and lips kiss-swollen, abdominal muscles quivering and shifting beneath pale skin.

Harry met Severus’ eyes in the mirror and reached back to take himself in hand.

Severus’ mouth fell open as he watched himself begin fucking Harry again in earnest. They room filled with the sound of flesh smacking against flesh and of Harry’s hand pumping his cock in rhythm with it.

Harry matched his pace to Severus’ and he was there at the precipice again quicker than he’d thought possible. Severus’ eyes never closed, never looked away, stayed locked on the mirror and Harry’s hand, Harry’s face.

Harry’s muscles, all of them, flexed and released, flexed and released, as his climax neared. Severus hissed as they tightened around his cock.

“Right there, right there, right there.” Harry repeated and then grunted in rhythm with Severus’ thrusts.

And then he was there, coming and coming and coming.

Severus’ fingers clenched hard enough to bruise and he bent forward, forehead landing between Harry’s shoulder blades. Harry felt the hot, wet force of Severus’ orgasm fill him up and it made his cock twitch.

Spent, they both crashed down into the mattress, panting and sweaty. Severus muttered a Finite charm and the mirror disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Harry waited for his pulse to approach something that resembled normal and then he shifted and turned until he and Severus lay in the bed, under the covers, facing each other.

“Happy New Year, Severus.” Harry smiled.

Severus reached out and cupped the side of Harry’s head. His thumb ran the length of an eyebrow and his fingers tucked into Harry’s dark hair. “Happy New Year, Harry.”

Harry turned his head to better nestle into the hand while keeping his eyes on Severus as he said, “I love you. I mean that.”

“I know.” Severus blinked once, twice, licked his lips. He leant forward and pressed his forehead to Harry’s and whispered against his lips. “I love you, too.”

******

“What color do you think?” Harry spread a deck of sample cards out on the staff table. “For the bedroom?”

Severus, sat beside him, folded the Daily Prophet in half and peered over it. He sneered. “Red?”

“Shades of red,” Harry said. “Don’t make that face. It’s the color of love, Severus.”

His lip curled and he whipped the paper back up in front of his face. A photo of Harry and Severus graced the front page. The pair of them looked startled by the sharp movement, both with their hands thrown over the other in protection.

Harry sighed and turned to the only other person in the staff room. “Which do you like, Minerva?”

Minerva paused her writing, quill still hovering and dripping black ink, and gave the paint sample cards a serious perusing. She bent forward and pointed to one of the rosier shades. “This one, I think. Or,” she moved her finger to one on the end, a distinctly Gryffindor shade of red, “this one.”

“Those are called ‘Lovebirds’ and ‘Firecracker’.”

Minerva opened her mouth to comment, but was interrupted by the rustle of noise coming from Severus. He’d folded the paper down again and he said, “I already spend too many hours of my day in the company of Gryffindors, I’d rather not spend my nights sleeping in the shadow of their house color.”

Harry rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.

The corners of Minerva’s mouth tugged up with amusement. “That’s quite alright, Potter. Severus’ opinion should matter more than mine on any account, seeing as how he is the one that has to look at it, not me.”

Harry scoffed and looked at the man. Severus’ cheeks had pinked right up before he disappeared back behind the paper. Harry wanted to take a sample of that blush color and paint the walls of the master suite that exact shade.

The Harry and Severus on the front page peered around, trying to find the source of their abuse.

Harry asked, “What color would you like, then?”

He pulled the paper down enough to meet Harry’s eyes. “Paint the room whatever color you want, Potter. It’s your house.”

“For now.” Harry watched the blush darken and he smirked. He wanted to kiss the man so badly his fingers tingled. Harry stacked the cards back into a single pile. “Not red then.” Harry drew another stack from the inside pocket of his robes. He spread the deck out, an array of blues, pinks, and yellows. “How about the nursery then? Which color for that one, Severus?”

Severus made a choking noise and ripped the paper in two, the little Harry and Severus hugging each other tightly as they floated down to the floor. Severus glared first at the paint samples on the table and then at Harry.

Minerva laughed. Harry laughed. Severus’ face crinkled in dismay and Harry loved him.

He loved him and loved him and loved him.