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sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Four: -Before you can go forward, you must face your past. Sins of the father may bury the son. Harry will find out if a dog really is the man's best friend.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, mention of het rape, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes, angst and a partridge in a pear tree.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
"So, tell us more about the house."
Harry smiled at Sirius' honest curiosity. "I think you'll both love it." Remembering the small cottage where his godfather and Remus had spent the past few years, he added, "Even though it's kind of embarrassingly huge and pompous."
"We can live with that." There was a truly happy smile on Sirius' face. He was finally satisfied with the way Remus was healing and the thought of having Harry live somewhere nice sounded excellent. He'd never really seen the place at Privet Drive, but he'd heard enough from Ron Weasley to know that Harry deserved a huge house. He deserved the best their world had to offer.
The enthusiasm so evident in Sirius' voice made Harry's chest ache. This was his childhood dream, a real family living with him because they loved him, a home away from the Dursleys.
It was still a thought that would create the biggest Patronus ever, but it was now slightly tinted with regret. There was only one thing he might wish he had beyond this.
He shook his head, trying not to think about that. If their world ever wanted to rename him, he could be the Boy Who Refused to Think About Stuff. As with the other moniker, he would surely deserve it.
"There is furniture there already, but I guess we can change things around if we don’t like them where they are right now." Waving with his hands, Harry described the house that would be their home.
He was concentrating on all the good things about it; the space they would have, the nice yard. The privacy the house seemed to have even though it was a short walk away from the center of Hogsmeade.
Being able to stay there with Sirius and Remus.
"I’m sure it will be all right." Sirius’ eyes were gleaming with anticipation. After years in a small cell followed by rushing around the country, this sounded perfect. "Are you sure we won’t take up too much space?"
Smiling with only a hint of exasperation, Remus listened to the two make plans about their new living arrangements. He didn’t want to interrupt the planning, seeing how both Sirius and Harry were genuinely enthusiastic about the prospect of actually living together like a family.
Harry was a bit surprised to be truly happy about this. As long as he didn’t think about the fact that moving in with Sirius meant moving out of Snape’s rooms, everything was fine.
"So... it'll be just the three of us there? You and Remus and me?" Sirius didn't know how else to put that. He'd wondered if Harry had seen Ron lately, but didn't want to ask. He always hated making Harry sad.
Realizing he hadn't said anything to Sirius and Remus about the possibility of Malfoy moving in as well, Harry winced. "Not precisely." He decided it was best to just say it. "Actually, I told Draco Malfoy that he should move in with us."
That definitely caught Remus' attention. "You asked Draco Malfoy to live with us?" He was shocked, remembering the smirking and sneering blond boy.
He'd always seen how clearly Harry reminded him of both James and Lily, and unfortunately the genes of the previous generations seemed to be strong with the Malfoys as well. Lucius Malfoy had always been a bastard in school, and Remus had seen his son follow exactly in his footsteps.
"Yeah." How funny that some of the reasoning Harry could think for his decision was exactly the same as he'd used when talking to Ron about seeing Snape. "I don't think he means us any harm and he has no other place to go."
He couldn't really say that he'd got to know Malfoy, but he didn't think he was completely rotten and evil either.
Sirius shrugged. "It's your house." He was a bit disappointed with Ron Weasley. After all, Harry and Hermione had followed their friend to the Shrieking Shack without hesitations, fighting against him when they'd thought he was going to hurt Ron.
"Our house," Harry said firmly. Then he smiled. "I promise you won't like Malfoy much, but he's not completely bad." His smile grew wistful.
Remus leaned back against the pillows, wondering what brought such a strange expression to Harry's face. Probably the thing they'd talked about a few days ago.
Sensing the shift in the mood, Sirius looked at Harry and asked, "So when are we going to move in?" He still didn't like the idea of Harry staying at Hogwarts all alone, with no one to look after him.
"After the meeting." Harry saw the confusion in Sirius' eyes and realized that because of Remus' condition, they probably wouldn't be able to attend. "We're having an Order meeting the day after tomorrow. Dumbledore said it will be a good time for me to move to Hogsmeade."
"What a coincidence! I'm to be released the same day," Remus said. At least Harry wouldn't have to stay in his new house with only Draco Malfoy as his companion.
Harry hadn't known that, but it fit his plans perfectly. Maybe things would be at least a little easier with Sirius and Remus there with him.
"I could come to and stay with you right now if you want to move in before the meeting." It wasn't an easy offer for Sirius to make, but he knew he could handle leaving Remus' bedside now. There had been no sign of the silver poisoning, and the only reason the doctors were still keeping him here was to make absolutely sure there would be no complications.
It had to be a good sign that he was to be released in two days.
"That would be great, but you really don't have to." Harry's smile was a bit forced. "You should stay here with Remus. I'll be okay." He was not going to leave the dungeons a minute earlier than he absolutely had to.
He knew there were plans for him, he understood the need for those. Staying in Hogwarts would be impossible, especially when summer ended and students returned, but that was all in the future. There might be days he didn't see Snape, so he needed to stay with him now that he still could.
"Nonsense! I'll come with you to Hogwarts tonight, and we can get your things ready together." Sirius could sense Harry's reluctance, and he wondered just when would he finally understand that he was not a burden. That he and Remus both loved him very much and didn't think of him as a charity case. "Remus will be fine here until he can join us the day after tomorrow." They could finally be a family.
"I really don’t want to be a bother..." This couldn’t be happening.
Sirius grabbed Harry’s arm. "Don’t be silly." He had been selfish enough staying here with Remus for all this time, now it was time to be with his godson. "I hate thinking about you all alone in the dormitory."
There was determination in his voice. He needed to do this now, show his support before the big meeting and all the fuss Harry would have to go through. There was nothing that could keep him away from Harry’s side tonight.
Harry cast a panicky look at Remus. This was too soon.
Squirming to get into a better position, Remus hid his apprehension and nodded slightly. He definitely didn't want to see this and would prefer this to wait until he was stronger to deal with the storm. Still, he was glad he knew what would happen next. Unprepared, this would be a total disaster.
It still could be, he couldn't tell. Usually, he could at least guess the outcome of various conversations with people, but there were just too many factors here.
At least they were still at St. Mungo's. If Sirius threw a fit, help would get here in seconds.
Harry sighed. "Sirius..." He didn't know how to say this, but he did know he couldn't let his godfather find out on his own. Remembering the betrayal and panic in Ron's gaze, he took a deep breath. "I’m not alone. I’m staying with someone."
He prayed that would be enough and Sirius would settle for grinning at him. That could happen, he was certain of it.
"Really?" There was that familiar grin on Sirius’ face. He chuckled at the obvious embarrassment on Harry's face. "So you do have a girlfriend after all. Tell me, how did you get McGonagall to give you her permission to bring a girl to stay with you in the tower?"
Knowing that there was no way out of this, Harry said, "There’s no... I'm not staying in the Gryffindor tower. I'm staying in the dungeons." He could see his words meant nothing to Sirius. "The Slytherin dungeons. With Snape."
Cringing, he waited for the unavoidable explosion.
"You..." Sirius was completely confused. "You're staying with Snape? Damn it! Dumbledore should know better than to force you to stay with that git right now." The whole stay at the secret hideaway had been bad enough. He was certain that being forced to stay with Snape now was a nightmare.
Then he blinked. Harry had said he was all right and didn't need him to leave St. Mungo's so that they could be together because he was staying with someone.
The hair at the back of his neck was prickling, a sense memory of hackles rising. He barely suppressed the curling of his lip, but the soft growl still came out. "You. Are staying with Snape."
Harry was sure his heart was about to explode. Knowing that his voice would just tremble and make the whole thing worse -- if that was even possible -- he nodded. Yes, he was staying with Snape. And yes to all the unvoiced questions.
"Did he do something to you?" Still growling, Sirius stared at Harry, noticing the faint blush creeping on his face. It made his mind go utterly blank. Jumping to his feet he yelled, "I will kill that bastard!"
He couldn't think of anything. Not rationally anyway. There was a familiar soothing voice telling him that everything was going to be all right, but it didn't register. Harry was staying with Snape, who was doing something to him. He would not think about that, even though his mind was instantly filled with disgusting images, but he did think about the reason behind whatever he was doing.
Revenge.
"That fucking son of a bitch! I will rip his black heart out, I'll..." He bit out the words, launching into a mixture of curses and threats, not repeating himself once.
This was payback. James was dead, but Harry lived, and Snape was taking his revenge out on an innocent boy. Ruining his life because of a stupid prank, probably trying to get to him and Remus through Harry as well, needing to destroy them all.
For a short while, he had deluded himself, thinking that just maybe a man who would be willing to risk his life for the Head of Gryffindor would actually be worth something. At least worth not hating. They were both of the Order, and the secret meetings and Snape's obvious -- now so clearly false -- dedication to their fight had almost started to mellow him.
It made him feel such rage; mostly towards Snape but towards himself as well. The words coming out of him were a blur to even him, incoherent threats and even hexes that thankfully didn't work, since his wand was still hidden under his robes.
He didn't care about words or magic. All he could think of was sinking his teeth into Snape's neck and biting until his jaws clenched and then shaking. There was a death he wouldn't mourn or regret.
He'd probably just regret not being able to kill him more than once.
Remus kept talking, not paying much attention to what he was saying, the tone and the voice more important. He sat up, ignoring the pain flashing through his side. There had been bad moments, but he'd never seen Sirius like this.
He'd known he wouldn't take it well, there had never been doubt about it, but he'd never thought it would be like this. Flip? Sirius wasn't flipping, he was way beyond that.
Still totally lost in his rage, Sirius banged his fist on the wall, ignoring the piercing pain. His words were unintelligible now, a low growl full of bloodlust.
Harry was staring at the raging man.
He couldn’t say anything, he simply watched as Sirius let go of all control he had on his emotions. Whenever he’d thought about telling his godfather about Snape, he’d known that it would be difficult, but this was so much worse than that.
Trembling, he got to his feet. He wasn't afraid that Sirius would hurt him, but he was afraid. Completely terrified.
There were calming words coming from Remus and he didn’t know to whom they were aimed at. Probably at Sirius, even though he was panicking as well.
It shouldn’t happen like this! He was supposed to think of something intelligent and convincing to say to Sirius and then after a few angry words they would have sat down and discussed the whole thing. He’d never been stupid enough to imagine that Sirius would accept him being with Snape, but this was beyond his worst nightmares.
Harry felt his throat squeeze shut. His eyes burned with tears and it was hard to breathe. This was so familiar to him, the feeling of total loss. For years, Sirius had been the absolutely best thing in his life. It didn't surprise him that his love was now taken away from him. "Sirius please..."
That sob did what Remus' calm words and pain hadn't. Sirius stopped yelling and spun around to look at Harry.
Seeing the animal panic in the green eyes, Sirius swallowed. He'd rarely seen Harry like this; utterly devastated, like he'd just lost something precious. The rage disappeared completely, replaced by horror. "No!" He took a few steps towards Harry and then wrapped his arms around him, holding tight. "No, no, no! Don't ever think I'd leave you because of this. I'm never leaving you. For anything."
He wasn't exaggerating; there was nothing Harry could do that would drive him away.
Harry had thought nothing could really make him cry again, but apparently relief could. He sniffed, wondering how he could laugh and cry at the same time without the madness clinging to him.
Grasping Sirius' robes tight, he muttered, "He's not forcing me or using me." He could feel the man stiffening immediately, the growl shaking Sirius' whole body. "Please, listen! I'm not under any charm or potion. We can get a mediwitch to examine me if you don't trust me."
"I trust you." It was out before Sirius could even think about words.
"Then trust me when I tell you that I’m staying with Snape because I want to. I like him." Every word made Harry feel like he was driving a knife deeper into Sirius’ chest. He wanted to apologize, but didn’t know how he could apologize for being honest.
Doing his very best not to let out a howl again, Sirius let go of Harry. He took a deep breath, but couldn’t say anything after all. Harry was staying with Snape because he liked him? He didn’t want to know more, didn’t even want to know this much, for his mind was already racing with all the things that were left unsaid.
Teasing him about a girlfriend had made Harry fluster earlier. Now he knew why. The mere thought of someone like Snape touching Harry made him grimace with disgust.
Harry saw the expression and it was like a blow. It was worse than any harsh words, making him feel small and unloved and locked into the small cupboard under the stairs where no one ever held him.
"Please don't hate me."
Sirius swallowed. There was so much pain in the pleading gaze, he couldn't handle seeing it. Wrapping his arms back around Harry, he hugged him tight and muttered, "I could never hate you."
Nothing short of Harry killing half the wizarding world would make him hate his godson. Saying that he actually liked Snape of all people felt like a cruciatus, and Sirius was quite sure he was out of his mind, but it did not make him hate Harry.
"Thank you." Muttering it quietly, Harry lay his head on Sirius' shoulder. He didn't want to even think about losing this, ever. Gaining something by losing Sirius' love was completely unacceptable, even though having such love under conditions was equally impossible.
He was glad Sirius was still holding him, still cared about him like this.
Remus' voice came quietly from the bed. "Sirius, you're bleeding." The calmly said words broke the silence, forcing everyone to concentrate on something less destructive than the tension in the room.
"Bloody hell!" Staring at his bleeding hand, Sirius tried to remember how he'd hurt it. Nothing came to mind. He looked around and winced when he saw the crack in the wall and the deep red smears on the yellow paint. Oh. He'd hit the wall? He was grateful he hadn't hit anyone living.
Lost in thought, he allowed Harry fuss over his wound. The crack in the wall was still making his stomach churn, and he turned to Remus to cast an apologizing glance at him.
The calm acceptance in the amber eyes somehow made him breathe easier.
Harry held his godfather's hand gently in his, smiling. "I guess I'm not the only one who knows how to throw a temper tantrum." Even though he had just bruised his knuckles and not broken them. He remembered the occasion when he’d slammed his fist against the tree when he’d had an argument with Snape and tried not to concentrate on the memory. It was definitely inappropriate right now.
Glaring at Harry, Sirius raised his hand to his mouth and licked the blood away from his fingers. It was a reflex by now. "Ow, damn it!" he whined. "Can you tell Loreena to call for someone to take a look at my hand?"
"Sure." Glad to find out her name without having to ask, Harry went to the familiar woman standing guard in the corridor. She would undoubtedly contact another Order member to tend to Sirius' wounds. The rest of the hospital staff would have to get used to seeing Snuffles hobble around with his paw in a bandage.
It was actually good to have a mediwizard in the room. The middle aged man was a member of the Order, and he didn't ask any questions. He simply glared at Sirius and huffed.
There was a blessed silence in the room for as long as the mediwizard treated Sirius' hand. Harry needed that time to calm his mind. Now that Sirius wasn't throwing him out of his life, he could relax a little.
Still, the first thing that came out of his mouth as the mediwizad finally closed the door behind him was, "Are you still moving in with me?"
Sirius looked at him as if he'd completely lost his mind. "Of course we are!" Nothing would keep him away from Harry.
Seeing the happy smile on Harry, he clamped his mouth shut and refused to say anything about why Harry might even think that he wouldn't want to move in with him. He didn't want to deal with the rage that would accompany such thoughts.
"We will move in when they release me." Fidgeting slightly at the tension that was still thick in the room, Remus gestured at Sirius. "Isn't that right?"
Mouth open, Sirius stared at Remus. Why on earth was he so calm about this whole thing? He didn't know, but he could see that Remus was definitely dealing with this more easily than he was. Glad he could rely on him now, he nodded. They would move in when the mediwizards said Remus was allowed to leave the hospital. And by Merlin's balls, he didn't want to know what Harry did before that.
Harry excused himself after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence and a few more hugs. He had absolutely no idea what to say to the two men who were the core of his family, and could tell by the look in Sirius' eyes that he wasn't the only one.
As soon as Harry was out of the room, Sirius let the smile he'd forced to his lips slip away and growled, "I am going to kill that bastard if he ever hurts Harry." He might kill him anyway, as soon as it was clear that Snape's death wouldn't make Harry suffer.
Remus simply patted the mattress as an invitation, refusing to comment on his words.
Flooing back to Hogwarts was a relief, especially when Harry found the Entrance Hall deserted. He didn't have to stifle the nearly hysterical laughter that escaped him.
He couldn't believe how insane everything was right now. He was living with Snape, sharing his bed and all, but they weren't anything he could put a name to; not lovers, probably not friends. And yet he had just jeopardized his whole dream of having a real family by telling Sirius about it.
There had to be something wrong with him, but he refused to let himself believe that his living with Snape now was because of the man's insane sense of duty. It didn't sound right. There had to be some hope left.
Straightening his robes, he set out his way down to the dungeons.
He cast a thoughtful look at the doorway to the Slytherin rooms as he passed them by. It still amazed him that he felt nothing towards the one Slytherin living there. No shivers came when he passed the corridor leading to the Potions classroom either.
A small smile appeared on his lips as he raised his hand, palm caressing the small snake on Snape's door for a brief moment before the door opened without a sound. He slipped into the room.
Closing the door behind him, Harry rested his back against the solid wood for a while, concentrating on the slight tingle that went up and down his spine. He didn't know if it was just a figment of his imagination, or some residual magical energy seeping from the heavy wards.
He didn't really care.
It had been an impossibly long day already, and even though he'd done nothing but had breakfast with Malfoy and then spent time at St. Mungo's, he was completely exhausted. It was good to be home.
Such a dangerous thought, thinking of these rooms like that.
But it was all so cozy, so familiar to him now. The smells coming from the ever-present cauldron, the soft sounds of Snape moving around the room. He didn't even have to think about those things anymore, they were a constant; like the small greeting Snape offered from where he was working on something potions related as usual.
Sighing, Harry toed his shoes off and then shuffled to the couch.
Snape waited until Harry was seated before looking at him, his face unreadable. "I heard you offered Draco Malfoy a place to stay." There was a hint of amazement in his voice.
"Yeah." Harry wasn’t surprised by Snape knowing it already. "I thought that since he can't really stay here any more than I can, he should stay somewhere safe." He didn’t think there was such a place that would ever be completely safe for either of them, but this was the best he could think of right now.
"Thank you."
The simple words made Harry gawk for a moment.
Had he heard it correctly? Of course he knew that Snape valued some courtesies, but this wasn't a simple phrase used when someone offered him a cup of tea. "You're welcome," he muttered, smiling goofily.
Snape refused to comment on his completely ludicrous expression. It was best to finish with the labeling so they could order some food. He was certain that Harry had not eaten anything at St. Mungo's and no, the chocolate didn't count.
Still thinking about the reluctant gratitude -- that had been completely different from Snape's honest words a moment ago -- he'd seen in Malfoy, Harry wondered what it would be like to live with him now. There would be no one to glare the Slytherin into silence.
This was probably one of the most insane ideas he'd ever had, but for some strange reason he didn't have a bad feeling about the whole thing. He knew Malfoy could behave well if he chose to, and a roof over his head was probably the best motivation he could have. Seven years of hating the git didn't all disappear with this new tentative truce, but he was willing to believe that he was not making a mistake inviting Malfoy in.
Life would be hard to Draco Malfoy. The people in Hogsmeade weren't going to forget who he was any time soon, they would look at him and see his father and the man he chose to call Master.
He'd be busy enough trying to deal with that. There would be no chance for real scheming.
Harry pushed away thoughts about Malfoys, knowing there was a more pressing matter he needed to discuss with Snape. He was tempted to leave the whole thing be, but knew that Snape would find out sooner or later. Actually, he was surprised there was no evidence of his raging godfather calling Snape through the floo and threatening him with violence.
It was quite likely only a matter of time.
He was certain this wasn't going to go as smoothly as he might wish. "I need to tell you something." That was always a good start. "Sirius..." He saw the slight moue and sighed. "Something kind of happened when I was at St. Mungo's. Sirius said he wanted to come to stay with me tonight and I had to tell him that I'm staying with you."
Snape spun around, the sound of a glass jar breaking loud in the sudden silence. He could only stare for a moment.
Then he asked with strangled voice, "What did you just say?" He was completely horrified.
"I told Sirius I'm staying here." Harry wondered if that would be enough. It already looked like Snape was either about to have an apoplexy or getting ready to hex him.
Grabbing his wand, Snape entertained the thought of turning Harry into something small and slimy before muttering a simple charm to clean the shards off the floor. He watched the jar rematerialize on the table. Breathed in and out slowly.
Harry waited for him to say something. Usually when Snape was mad at him -- or anyone -- he let the whole world hear about it. Now there was nothing but silence and that glare that turned his gaze blank.
It was worse than the sneers or the rage that so often slipped his attempted control; cold and frightening.
"I see." In control now, Snape turned to push the glass jar into the middle of the table. He really wanted to throw it at the wall, but that kind of emotional outburst would be unacceptable now. He could always do that later, when he was alone.
He didn't want Harry to see how upset he was.
Keeping his gaze on the jar, he said calmly, "Maybe it would be best if you moved into the Gryffindor tower tonight, Potter. I'm sure your godfather would appreciate that." At least the last bit came out with loathing.
"No." Harry didn't even think before the word slipped out. "I'm not going to leave because of Sirius." Or anyone else. He had two more nights here, and he was not leaving!
"Please stop being such an idiot!" Knowing he was quite probably asking for too much, Snape cast a disgusted look over his shoulder. "You know as well as I do that sooner or later Black will come to see you and if he ever finds out about..."
He couldn't finish the sentence. What could he say? That they were sleeping together? That they had spent a few weeks having a sexual relationship? That Harry was being a brainless imbecile in the good old Gryffindor fashion, thinking either with his prick or his emotions? All those things would send the mutt into a homicidal rage.
Harry didn't want to stutter out excuses, so he simply said, "He already knows." He remembered the scene following his words earlier and shuddered. "He guessed most of it and I had to tell him the truth."
"What?" No trace of the controlled anger. Snape spun around, the jar smashing against the wall. He could only stare at Harry.
The boy had lost his mind!
"And what exactly is the truth, Potter?" The name came out as an epithet. What on earth had he told his godfather? And how long did they have until Black rushed into his dungeons frothing at the mouth?
"That we are staying here together. I told him that, and he drew conclusions. Most of them right. I had to tell him the rest; that I like being here with you and that we shagged." Harry lifted his chin slightly, letting out the words he'd been holding inside for some time now. "And that I want to keep seeing you."
For the first time in ages, Snape wished he was still in a position to reduce House points for Harry's stupidity. It would take Gryffindor years to get back to where they were these days. "You can't be serious." From the stubborn gleam in the green eyes he could tell that he was indeed.
Harry had known what would happen once they started this conversation, and knew exactly what to say; his honesty wouldn't allow him to back out now. He hadn't lied to Sirius, and he wasn't going to lie to Snape either.
"I am. Totally serious. I never wanted a quick shag with you, Snape. We're not at the cottage anymore, but I don't see any reason we can't do things together."
There was that word again. Snape shook his head instantly, needing to stop this insanity before it got too far. "Then you're blind."
Harry asked quietly, "Why?"
"Why?" It was incomprehensible that Snape would have to spell it out loud. Would probably have to explain it at least twice before it was understood, using simple words and short sentences. "You want to know why?"
Even though Harry didn't especially want to have this conversation, he nodded anyway.
"The savior of the wizarding world and young Gryffindor hero can not be involved with a former Death Eater." Noticing the flinch, Snape added, "I'm only stating a fact. You know that's how people see you."
The fact that he was automatically trying not to cause the idiot any unnecessary pain barely registered. When it did, it caused yet another surge of anger in Snape. Such foolishness!
"I know. But it's not what I am, and it's definitely not all you are." Labeling people was what kids did when they needed clear good and evil. Adults should know better.
That didn't change anything. "Maybe. No one will ever believe that, though."
"It doesn't matter. It won't change anything, you know?"
"Even you aren't that stupid." Exasperation clear in his voice, Snape glared at Harry.
A small smile appeared on Harry's lips. "I never thought I'd hear that from you." Deciding not to laugh at the whole thing, no matter how tempting it was, he added, "And of course I know what this means. There will always be people who'll think that whomever I choose to be with is somehow beneath me."
Snape knew that was probably true, if one could draw conclusions from the headlines and columns in the Daily Prophet. "That doesn't mean you should go asking for trouble."
"I'm not asking for trouble. I'm asking you to stop hiding behind excuses."
"Excuses?" The look on Snape's face had sent students -- and a few colleagues -- running while gibbering in fear.
Harry didn't even flinch. "Me being too young or too student or too innocent. Your age and your past and every nosy know-it-all in the wizarding world who would like nothing better than to see me miserable and alone."
"Those aren't excuses. Those are facts." Snape had to make Harry understand that dreaming about any kind of a close relationship with him was delusional. "You're too young to..."
"I'm old enough to fight Voldemort and die for the Order. So why the hell am I not old enough to be with you?" Surprisingly, Harry didn't even feel anger anymore. He was just tired of fighting. "I know how old I am. Do you have any idea of how old I sometimes feel?"
Snape didn't say anything. He'd once thought Harry felt like he was seventeen, going on forty. Seeing the weary look in his eyes reminded him of the thought.
"If you..." Harry sighed. "If you really don't want me here, say so. I can deal with that." It wasn't exactly true, but he was tired of hiding behind all the unsaid things. Better to lie a little than to swallow the words again.
There was a pointed silence. Then, "It's not about what I want."
"Damn right it's about what you want!" Why couldn't Snape see that? It sometimes felt like they weren't even speaking the same language. "This isn't about you sacrificing your peace and quiet to help me stay sane! This is about me really wanting to stay here with you! And I want to know what you want."
He was shaking now. This was the one thing he didn't want to do. His words would force Snape to drive him away, he was sure of it.
Snape stared at him, a slight sneer forming on his face. "And why do you want to stay here, Potter? So that you can sleep with me? Watch me brew potions? Spread your dirty clothes all over my furniture?" The sneer turned evil. "So you can masturbate in my shower?"
The response to his words was exactly what he'd expected. Watching the blush rise on Harry's face, Snape had to wonder how it could be this easy. He hadn't even had to say anything truly evil, about the teenage drama and Harry's tendency to blame himself for everything that went wrong in their world.
He ignored the fact that he would never have used that as a weapon. He didn't want to rip Harry into pieces, he simply wanted him to use his brains for once and see that whatever foolishness he was planning would never work.
Harry had never forgotten just exactly how cutting Snape's words could be, but it had been so damn long since he'd said anything like this to him. It was biting and cruel and it was rather pathetic how he still couldn't hate the bastard.
Taking a deep breath, he said, "If that's all I can have, then I'll take it." He saw the way the sneer faltered. It made him feel a lot better. "I like you. I want to be with you. Now, what do you want?"
It was the question Snape had been avoiding for some time. He had no idea what he wanted. He knew he wanted to have his peace and quiet back and that he should be disgusted by the invasion of his privacy. There should be no doubt about it.
Yet, he didn't exactly need to be alone right now.
The indecision was more irritating than anything, and his first thought was to send the stupid brat out of his rooms forever. He curbed his usual angry reaction without any real hardship. As much as he'd like to, he couldn't really think of Harry as a brainless child anymore.
Harry waited patiently for a while. He could see that Snape wasn't shrugging the question off but was considering it. When the silence stretched, he couldn't help adding quietly, "Do you really want me to go away?"
A very simple question. Something he didn't want to ask, but had to. His life was a big mess already and he felt like this would be too much to face. If Snape said yes, it wouldn't exactly break his mind, but he had a sinking feeling that it might break something else.
Snape's gaze hid every real thought and emotion, burning black as he stared down at Harry. Finally he nodded curtly. "No."
Frozen at the gesture, Harry had to blink a few times as his mind tried to process the two conflicting messages. "No?" He saw another nod. "You mean you don't want me to go away?" This time the nod was accompanied by an annoyed glare.
"Then I'm not leaving!" Harry knew he was probably asking for trouble, but he wasn't going to back away from this.
Snape wanted to tell him he was an idiot, but that would be wasting his breath, since he'd been telling Harry that for seven years now, and he was still acting like one. This was one of the things that would likely never change. "Even if there will be no sex or things?" He couldn't promise Harry anything, couldn't make this any easier for him.
"Yes." There was not a moment of hesitation. Harry nodded so hard his neck hurt. "Even if there's nothing more than this." It was not exactly a lie. Not completely anyway.
Deciding it would be pointless to challenge that, Snape flicked his wand at the shards on the floor, once again making the broken jar rematerialize on the table. "Very well, then. If you intend to stay, you can contact the house elves for tea and some sandwiches."
He chose not to say anything about the bright smile Harry flashed at him before rushing to order some food.
Harry snuggled on the armchair to drink his tea, not even thinking about crowding Snape on the couch.
This had been the most exhausting day for a long time, and he hadn't even done anything. It was incredible, really; the truth he'd told could have destroyed everything and now he had more than he'd ever dreamed of. Sirius knew, and didn't hate him. Snape didn't want him to leave, and considering where they'd stood at the beginning, that was a miracle.
He was definitely not going to do anything to disturb things now.
After finishing with his tea, he went to grab his Firebolt and his broom servicing kit. Tending to his broom was a familiar act that required no thoughts, and he ran his fingers through the twigs automatically, wrinkling his nose a bit when dust rained down on him.
He should have done this sooner, but there had never seemed to be enough time for something like this. Smiling a little, he started to polish the handle, wondering if he'd have time to fly any time soon.
There had been a time when he'd spent his evenings in the Common Room tending to his broom and watching his friends study -- or in Ron's case, evade studying. In the earlier years, there had been Oliver telling them all stories about Quidditch, and later on there had been heated discussions about strategy.
Harry had loved that, just as he loved sitting here and watching as Snape once again went to work on something. He'd never wondered how Oliver had the energy to focus so completely on Quidditch; it was his passion as well, and their captain's ramblings had always made sense to him. He didn't really understand how someone could pour all that passion into brewing potions, but it was clear to him that to Snape it made sense.
He concentrated on the homey sound of something bubbling in the cauldron, smiling at the familiar scents. This was perfect; to quietly tend to his broom with Snape working near by.
Ridiculous really, but he honestly didn't want more from life than this.
He knew that this wouldn't last forever, but at least he still had these few days to spend with Snape. He'd try to hold onto these small moments as tight as he could.
His hands stilling on the broom, he kept staring at Snape. Watching him move between the work table and the cauldron had always been somewhat interesting, but now he could feel other feelings stir inside.
It had been like this at the cottage. He'd never interrupted Snape's brewing, knowing that it was important to him. There had been long hours he'd spent in the small room watching the man chop the ingredients or bottle potions and the knowledge that as soon as he was finished he would turn to him had been enough to get Harry through the waiting.
Swallowing, Harry tried to stop that thought. He'd been honest when he'd said this would be enough, but for some reason his body wasn't exactly agreeing with him.
He wanted Snape. It had been so much easier when his body had felt numb with shock and had only craved to feel Snape next to him when he slept. Now that numbness had faded, and he couldn't stop remembering how it had been to feel Snape's hands all over his body.
Bad thought! Bad! Harry had the mental image of grabbing his broom and slamming it against his head, screaming 'Bad Harry!' like he was a disobediant house elf. It would probably make no difference, but at least the pain would make him stop thinking about Snape's touch.
Or maybe not. Sometimes his stupid mind just had to focus on the one thing he wasn't supposed to think about, and it just wouldn't stop. It didn't matter that he knew he couldn't go to Snape and wrap his arms around him; he wanted it anyway. He wanted to attack those damn buttons with his fingers and strip Snape naked, drag him into the bedroom and then lose himself in the haze of pleasure.
It didn't help that Snape was leaning over the table, his gaze on a book. The posture just made Harry's mouth dry.
He had to be totally insane to agree to this torment! How many times had he felt like this? And how often had he simply dropped anything he'd been doing and gone to Snape, knowing that he was never turned away from his door?
There had never been any promises, but still the moments they'd shared had meant something to Harry. It hadn't been just sex, of that he was certain and he wanted it back. He hadn't lied to Snape, he'd settle to what he had if it was all that was offered, but he couldn't help wanting more.
He wanted everything from Snape.
Snape raised his gaze from the book, and met Harry's stare. It was clear to him that Harry hadn't intended for him to actually see that he was staring, but even though Harry's embarrassment was rather obvious, he didn't look away immediately. After a moment, he smiled ruefully and then turned his gaze to the broom.
Seeing the look of undisguised longing was a slight shock, even though it didn't exactly surprise Snape. He couldn't understand what made Harry feel like that; as if he wasn't simply yearning to once again share his bed -- and this time in the more sexual meaning of that phrase -- but wanted something more.
Things. The word was insufficient to describe the elusive concept, but Snape couldn't think of anything better. Harry undoubtedly wanted those small gestures.
He didn't blame him for it. People behaved the way they were taught to, and by now it was painfully obvious that the real difference between these youngsters he knew was more than simply House pride. Harry truly believed there would be something he could give him, things that would make him happy. It was mind boggling.
Sexual encounters he could deal with. As a matter of fact, if the idiot continued to simply sit there aroused and polishing his broom as if he was thinking about something else, he might even suggest it. He did not find the physical act of sex unpleasant with Harry, and knowing he was going to insist on spending time with him no matter what, another sexual encounter wouldn't change anything.
Harry was already delusional -- and stubborn -- enough to not let go of him.
Of course any suggestions towards sex could be taken completely out of context. Snape had no illusions about Harry's ability to deal with this rationally. Any touches could be seen as an encouragement.
Then again Snape was certain anything he did could be misinterpreted. There was probably some Gryffindor tradition that made simple courtesies like pouring someone tea or not hexing them for making a mess seem like a declaration of undying devotion.
At least sex would be easier than anything else the idiot might want.
Before Snape could make up his mind about that, Harry got to his feet and then walked to the bathroom with a half strangled, "I'll take a quick shower before..."
The door slamming closed cut his sentence.
Snape had to smirk at that. Of course he could also sit here and try not to listen to the loud moans that were only partially drowned behind the sound of water being ran.
He put the book down and went to the bedroom to prepare for bed. At least now he couldn't hear the shower. Imagining Harry stand there touching himself was slightly disturbing. Snape blamed the few weeks of continual sexual contact on the faint arousal this situation caused, slightly dismayed by the way his body was betraying him.
Ignoring the first stirrings of his erection, he changed into his nightrobes and turned the duvet down. He was not a hormonal teenager, he could maintain control no matter what delusions his libido had.
When Harry finally came out of the shower, his hair wet and cheeks reddened by more than just the hot water, Snape cast a knowing glance at him, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Harry seemed to understand all the things he might have said anyway.
Muttering, "Oh shut up," quiet enough for Snape to pretend he didn't hear that, Harry crawled under the blankets. Then he added a bit louder, "Good night, Snape."
Snape should have known the embarrassment would turn into impudence. He wasn't certain if it was typical Gryffindor stupidity or bravery, but he couldn't really resent it. Not, when above everything else it might be, it was honest.
"Good night, Potter."
Their nightly ritual was the same as always. As the darkness fell, there was nothing to see anymore and somehow words ceased to matter. Snape pulled the blankets to his chin, knowing that sooner or later Harry would at least try to hog them. It was like that every night; Harry would latch onto him until he fell asleep, then he would roll over and steal the blankets. At some time before morning, he'd use Snape's shoulder as a pillow, so that Snape would wake up to the tickling sensation of Harry's breath on his skin.
Deciding he was too tired to go through the whole squirming ritual tonight, Snape simply rolled to his side and waited patiently for Harry to get comfortable so they could finally sleep.
He felt a wry smile tug at his lips as Harry snuggled against him, molding his back against his chest. At least there would be nothing poking at him in the middle of the night this way.
Yawning, he refused to acknowledge the small twinge of disappointment that thought caused.
