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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 - May 2007
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Five: - It's time to try to save the world. Fools and idiots may be the wizards' only hope. Revenge does indeed taste strange. Kinda furry.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, total stupidity, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes and angst.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
It didn't take long for the rumors to spread. Like a charmed magical fire they raged over Hogsmeade within a day.
People passing by Harry's house were staring now, as if the house had grown itself ears and a tail. Of course such transformation wasn't unheard of, but this time the horrid fascination was simply because of the new inhabitant.
Snape's presence in Hogsmeade was familiar, but seeing him around all the time was clearly a shock to most of the people. To the members of the Order it was mostly a cause for some curiosity, but there were those who seemed to be almost offended by the way he was now living with their leader.
There were also the rather nasty articles in the Daily Prophet about the man.
Harry knew it was a mistake to pay any attention to the papers now, but he couldn't help wondering, especially when Sirius kept casting worried looks at him. The way Snape had simply disappeared into his new laboratory without saying a word after breakfast made him worry even more.
It was nothing new, really; rumors about Snape moving out of Hogwarts and speculations about his new home followed by pages about the First Voldemort War, accounting the well known fact that Snape had indeed been a Death Eater.
'Reliable sources' handing over quotes that would make people wild, hints about Death Eater atrocities that had never really been printed before. Columns after columns full of the abominable ways Voldemort's people disregarded all decency.
Harry hated the whole thing, mostly bothered by the repetition of the old belief that you never really stopped being a Death Eater.
Sure, people had a right -- and a good reason -- to doubt and comment on Snape's past, but ignoring the present was simply idiotic. He had been a Death Eater, but he sure as hell wasn't one anymore. Hadn't been one for a long time.
Refusing to call his actions sulking, Harry spent most of the day casting angry looks around and then retiring earlier than usual, needing some time home alone.
These days, they didn't even bother to pretend that walking around alone was an option, and Harry was glad that it was Remus' turn to babysit him. At least Remus didn't seem to have the need to say anything as he walked him home, settling with casting a few contemplating looks at him every once in a while.
Since the door leading to the cellar was firmly shut, Harry didn't go downstairs to see if he could spend time with Snape, thinking he might want some time alone as well. Instead, he spent a moment making himself some tea and then glaring at the Daily Prophet someone had left on the living room table.
He was just glad no one had been stupid enough to actually comment on anything they had printed.
Even though Harry knew it was a bad idea, he picked the paper up and browsed through it, flipping through the pages almost negligently. The stories about his own past had never intrigued him at all, but this was different; he needed to know what they were saying about Snape so that he could be prepared for any and all remarks people might make.
He set his jaw and started reading.
Disgusted after the first few lines, Harry crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it to the other side of the room, barely resisting incinerating the whole thing.
The hell with it! He wasn't going to waste any time reading that crap.
It was the same thing over and over again, and there was nothing anyone could say that Harry hadn't heard before.
"Are they writing about Severus again?" Remus asked as he stepped fully into the room from the doorway where he'd been standing in silence and watching. He'd noticed the dark frown on Harry's face all day long, and thought this might be an excellent time for a little talk.
With Sirius in the house, it would be impossible to even try this.
"Yes. About his past." It was disgusting. Why was everyone so keen on labeling people? Most of the people in this house seemed to have a description following their name; the werewolf, the former prisoner of Azkaban, the Slytherin, the former Death eater. The Boy Who Lived. Harry was sick and tired of it.
Remus sat down on the couch. "About him being a Death Eater." This was something he'd been thinking about for a long time, almost since he'd first heard about Harry seeing Severus, but there had never been a proper time to bring it up before.
Glaring, Harry muttered, "Yes." A former Death Eater. Why couldn't people get that in their heads?
"You do know that they're simply stating a fact. It's not as if they're making things up." At least they weren't this time. Remus looked at Harry earnestly, needing to see if he'd really thought about it.
Of course Harry knew that. "I know." It wouldn't have an impact on Snape if it was simply a lie. "But they shouldn't write about it now."
In his opinion, the reporters should never write another article about Snape's past. It didn't change anything and only complicated everything.
"Maybe so, but to many, his past as a Death Eater won't change even if he does good deeds for us now."
The only reply Remus got was an infuriated glare. Harry's angry expression warned him not to go into this now.
"Have you ever really talked about it with him, Harry?" Gaze sharp, Remus stared at him. He was as stubborn as any other Gryffindor and wouldn't let go this easily.
Harry shook his head. "No. And I don't intend to." He was not about to re-open the age old wounds. Life was harsh as it was, people were judging so many things by what had happened years ago. He wasn't going to add to that.
"Maybe you should." Noticing how Harry was prepared for a retort, Remus added, "I'm not saying this to drive you away from him. I simply think that maybe you and he should talk about his past."
There was a short silence. Harry's lips were pursed into a thin line, his face reddening. Finally he nodded curtly. "Fine. I will talk to him about it. Right after I ask Sirius to tell me everything about that time when he lured Snape into the Shrieking Shack. Including what happened afterwards."
Remus' jaw fell open. He couldn't say a word, could hardly even breathe. Had Harry really said that? How could he? He loved Sirius almost as much as he did.
"I can't think of any reason for such a conversation except to really hurt him. It would destroy Sirius." Harry sounded slightly disgusted, and all of the emotion was aimed at himself. "We both know what happened. I can even guess why it happened. So there's no need to go digging into it."
Still shocked by the matter of fact way Harry had just used that as an example, Remus stammered, "But it's not the same thing!" No one had died and Sirius hadn't meant to really even hurt anyone, he'd just been young and stupid.
Harry nodded. "No it's not the same thing. But at the same time it is." He was really glad there was no possibility of Ron or Sirius barging in unnoticed; this was painful enough as it was. "I know exactly what Snape used to do. He was a Death Eater!" He let the reality of that statement wash over him, the disgust and horror clear in his eyes. "Do you honestly believe I don't know what that means?"
Even though this wasn't the first time Remus saw Harry this weary and suddenly older than he was, he could still only stare.
"The Death Eaters kill people. Muggles. Wizards. They use curses and knives and poisons and bare hands. They work alone and in groups. Torture, maim and rape before they kill. Do you think I left something out?"
"No." It was a whisper. Remus shook his head slightly, unable to meet Harry's gaze. He had been taunted and scorned for decades over his curse, but he had never felt this small before.
"There is nothing for me and Snape to talk about. I know. How the hell could I not know? I've fought against those bastards for years." Harry bit his lip as he remembered all the times he'd encountered the masked Death Eaters, all so ready and willing to take his life.
He could never forget what the Death Eaters were like, but he didn't see Snape as one of them. Death Eaters felt no guilt or remorse and they exalted in every sick perversion their master told them to indulge in. The fact that Snape didn't flaunt his pain didn't mean he didn't feel it.
"Harry..." Remus swallowed. "I..."
Harry didn't let go. "Do you really think I should ask him about his past? Tear all that open and for what? To prove to you that I do know what I'm doing? To somehow feel better when I hear him tell me that he wasn't one of the nicer Death Eaters who just bowed down to Voldemort and then went to bed when all the others stayed and had an orgy?"
He snapped his mouth shut before he could say anything more. Snape wouldn't want anyone else to know about the nightmares or the scars. He probably preferred thinking Harry hadn't noticed them either, or that he hadn't made some educated guesses about their origin.
"Do you think he would say that?" There was something in Harry's voice Remus didn't recognize, and he couldn't help wondering if he was somehow lying to himself after all.
A chuckle escaped Harry before he could shake his head. "No. Snape would never lie to me. He would tell the truth, no matter how horrible or painful. He wouldn't lie." Of that he was certain. Snape would not tell him simply what he wanted to hear, he would be brutally honest.
Remus was shocked once again. "And you honestly don't want to ask Snape if he never..."
"If he never what?" This wasn't what Harry wanted. He didn't want to be angry at Remus or anyone he loved, but he could feel the anger tingle through his body. "If he never what, Remus?"
"If he never really enjoyed it."
The silence was deafening. Harry stared at Remus, feeling all anger drain away from him. He wanted to let go and sit down on the floor, but couldn't. All he could think of were the words.
Enjoy it? He wanted to say no, scream it out so loud the windows shook with the force of his voice. But he couldn't. Because deep inside he knew that it was possible that Snape had.
It was a rush; the power that coursed through you when you cast the Avada Kedavra was horrifying. Maybe it was why it was so unforgivable. It was not the only curse that would kill, but it was the one that could make killing enjoyable.
"Have you ever used the killing curse on anyone?" Harry was certain Remus hadn't, and the slight shake of head confirmed it easily. He already knew Sirius hadn't. The one time he had killed had not been by using magic.
Instead of saying anything about how addictive the rush of power could become, he said quietly, "I don't have to ask Snape if he ever enjoyed killing or torturing innocents."
He didn't say anything about the sex, even though he couldn't help thinking about it for just a moment, knowing all too well that even impersonal fucking could sometimes be a relief, at least physically. Sleeping through the ranks of Death Eaters was probably just like Harry's sleeping with his schoolmates when any warm bed was enough for the night; something that had happened and wouldn't need to be discussed. Ever.
Especially with the memory of Snape's rage towards the mere comment about sexual violence, that had been more telling than any words could possibly be.
"Because I already know." Harry stared at Remus, his voice steady. "I know that while being sober and not under any mind altering charm, he's never truly enjoyed what he did as a Death Eater."
"How can you be certain of that?"
Both Harry and Remus turned to stare at the doorway in horror.
Snape looked even paler than he usually did, his arms crossed across his chest as if he was cradling himself. His eyes showed nothing of what he was thinking.
Cursing himself quietly, Harry wondered what had made him forget that the firmly closed door leading to the cellar and the faint smell of burning herbs in the air meant that Snape was indeed in the house, brewing.
"I... I know," Harry said, knowing it wouldn't be enough by the slight sneer that his words caused. "If you had, you would never have left them."
That made Snape nod. "Correct." He was pleased -- not to mention astonished -- by the logic Harry was showing instead of using intuition or that good old Gryffindor trust. "With one exception, of course." This time the trusting gleam in Harry's gaze didn't even manage to irritate him. It was somehow warming. How disgusting! "I did enjoy working with potions. The laboratory in the Malfoy Mansion was considerably better stocked than my... Than the one in Hogwarts."
He chose not to say anything about the unpleasant atmosphere or the poor ventilation system. They hadn't been enough to ruin the experience.
Especially when he had been working on potions he'd never even dreamed of brewing, both the ones considered too malevolent and simply too difficult for someone his age.
Harry smiled slightly at that. He should have expected Snape to be meticulously honest. "I can imagine." Young Snape being all ecstatic to be able to work with things he'd only read of, showing off his skills to the others.
Ignoring the smile, Snape looked at Remus. "Anything else you want to know, Lupin?" His tone indicated there had better not be any more questions.
"No." It had been a foolish thing to expect of Harry in the first place. Remus had known that the moment Harry had mentioned the Shrieking Shack. Thinking about the nasty things other people did was always easier than to focus on what truly awful things your loved ones had done. He should have remembered that.
Snape seemed to settle for that. Without any words, he turned around and walked away. A few moments later his footsteps could be heard in the staircase leading upstairs.
"I..." Seeing that Harry was about to follow Snape, Remus stammered, "I'm sorry." His concern had been genuine, but he had clearly put his nose into a matter that didn't really concern him.
"Don't be." Harry knew that Remus hadn't said any of the things out of malice. "It's all right."
That wasn't good enough. Remus shook his head. "No, it's not. I was out of line. Please convey my apologies to Severus as well." He hoped he hadn't destroyed anything that Harry held dear, honest enough to admit to himself that his questions hadn't stemmed from worry alone.
Harry stopped, casting a piercing look at Remus at the sound of genuine guilt behind his words. He wondered if Remus could really hear it himself, as if the echo of something he'd once said was still there to be heard even after decades from that night Sirius' prank had gone too far.
He didn't know. It wasn't his place to ask.
Nodding slightly, he turned and hurried upstairs.
As Harry stepped into his room, he looked warily around him, half expecting to see Snape's trunk packed already. The scene downstairs had been completely unpleasant, and he wouldn't have been surprised to see Snape try to run away from this house.
It was a relief to see the man standing by the window.
"Are you all right?" He could read the tension in Snape's body. "I'm sorry about what you had to hear, and Remus sent his apologies as well."
Snape didn't acknowledge the apologies in any way. "Mr. Potter..."
"No!" This was beyond the worst possibility Harry had allowed himself to consider. "Don't do this, Snape." There was only one reason why the man would address him like that, and Harry knew he wasn't going to like what came out next.
As if he hadn't been interrupted, Snape went on, "I don't believe this arrangement will work after all." With everyone's eyes on him once again and with even someone like Remus Lupin questioning him, there was no other option. He couldn't stay here.
"If this won't work, we'll think of something else. Move somewhere." Keeping his voice level, Harry refused to look away. He'd fight for this if he had to, with Sirius and Ron and Remus, even with Snape himself. He wasn't going to let go. "I want to live with you."
Snape snorted. "Don't be stupid. You have a big house with people you undoubtedly call a family." There was no real scorn in his voice. He knew this was one of the subjects that would lead to real pain, so he toned down the sarcasm. "Are you honestly suggesting you'd leave all that behind to..."
He wasn't sure how to put it. To be with him? To have someone to hold? Something undoubtedly Gryffindor anyway.
Images of the cottage assaulted Harry. He wondered what it would be like to live somewhere alone with Snape, dealing with all the small everyday things together, calling the place home and falling asleep next to him in their bed every evening. It sounded wonderful.
Even with this new insight, he still sounded surprised as he said, "Yes."
Snape had expected there to be a silence, or maybe a very awkward silence followed by another foray into sexual acrobatics. Having Harry grab his wand and cast a cruciatus wouldn't have been as shocking as this soft admission.
Somehow the torture of the curse would have been easier to bear than the hollow feeling brought by Harry's insane belief in him.
"You do know that everything Lupin said was true." There was no sign of life in Snape's eyes.
"Yeah." Harry nodded. His voice was quiet as he added, "I've seen it all in my nightmares." Whatever the connection between him and Voldemort was now, it had once been strong enough to show him at least the shadow of what he and his Death Eaters did.
He didn't know how anyone could hide from the truth. The Death Eaters were monsters; not the kinds of you read about in a book, but the reality behind every fantasy villain. They weren't men reduced to their baser needs like those bitten by a werewolf, they weren't the undead. They were simply men.
Snape squeezed his hand into a fist so hard he half feared his fingers would crack from the pressure. "I never have nightmares." He could tell by the flash he saw in Harry's eyes that he was going to protest and raised his other hand to still any foolish words. "I only have memories."
Looking into Harry's eyes, he wondered if he would ever understand everything behind his simple words, and then almost choked as he realized he didn't need to explain anything to him. Harry did know, he did understand perfectly, and he still wanted him to stay.
He shook his head. "No."
Harry managed not to curse out loud. Just how many times would they have to go through this? "I already told you once I want to live with you. If you choose not to believe me, I think I'll just have to tell you again. Until you do believe me."
"You can't possibly mean that." It was unbelievable, because Harry sounded so earnest, his words echoing once again with the notion of sharing everything with him.
"Of course I mean it! I want to live with you." Harry was beginning to realize this was going to get really tedious fast.
Snape simply stared.
"You once said you don't want to hear me beg." Harry kept his gaze on Snape's, refusing to back off. "But I'm getting really close to the point now. Please."
The simple words seemed to be more effective than anything. "Stop that!"
"I'll stop when you stop fighting me about this! I want to live with you, no matter what the others say, no matter what you did when you were younger."
Snape let out a disbelieving snort.
Not even that could make Harry really mad. "Do you really believe I'm just saying that? Come on, Snape! If it's about staying here, we can move. I mean it."
That was the point. Snape couldn't fathom what would drive Harry to even contemplate such a thing.
"Becoming dependant on someone is not healthy, Potter. When you start thinking that a person is the most important thing in your world, you'll lose yourself. If you don't believe me," now there was a glare, "ask Remus Lupin. I'm certain he'll be happy to tell you how much he enjoyed his life alone without..." There was a definite pause full of all the unsaid nasty comments before Snape settled with, "Your godfather."
Harry let out a suffering sigh. Was Snape being intentionally dense or was this just something he honestly didn't understand? He was beginning to wonder if it was the latter.
"I'm not talking about a biological imperative like the werewolf mating habits. I'm not trying to force you into anything. All I'm saying is that I like living with you. It's nice to..." How to explain it? Especially since he wasn't completely sure what he meant. After a long silence, he finished the sentence lamely, "You know. Be with you."
Snape shook his head, forcing the words out before he could convince himself of their stupidity, "I do not understand that." He didn't find Harry's presence in his life unpleasant, but he honestly couldn't understand how Harry would be so insistent on making him stay.
"I know, but it's not something you can explain." Harry smiled a little. "You know, Gryffindor emotionalism and all that." He didn't know how to say it better; the way Snape seemed to balk at every emotional scene made him keep that one word unsaid. For now.
Sighing, Snape shook his head, but his body was slowly relaxing. "Oh, that." How on earth had he imagined he could ever win a logical argument with someone who didn't obviously believe in logic? "I see."
Harry asked quietly, "So will you stay with me?"
"Yes." It escaped Snape before he could swallow it down. He wanted to be angry about the whole thing, hate himself for falling so easily into the trap laid by the pleading gaze now shining with happiness, but couldn't. He was well aware that he had just agreed to much more than simply not leaving.
"Thank you."
Snape didn't want to hear Harry thanking him, the relief in the idiot's voice reminding him of desperate begging somehow.
He made a small gesture, elegant even with the helplessness showing in it, and Harry walked straight into his arms, holding him as if he was afraid he would still want to run away from him. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to do anything but simply stand here and feel Harry against him.
It was somehow better than anything, and if a hint of the rage and fear Lupin's words had caused still lingered, he ignored it, concentrating on the way Harry's hands moved down his back and how his lips were moving up his throat, nibbling and kissing and whispering something so softly he almost couldn't hear what he was saying.
The almost reverent whisper of his name was familiar, as were the touches and the smell of Harry's shampoo tickling his nose. Snape leaned his head to the side, a graceful gesture devoid of submission, simply a way to give Harry more access, and the whispers turned into an almost suffocated sob.
"Mine!"
Snape froze at that, ignoring the way the sound was frighteningly similar to a feral beast's and concentrated on the word that could still make him shiver with utter terror.
He slowly pushed Harry away. "I am not anyone's property, Potter."
Harry blinked at the icy cold tone, rather shocked as he realized he had actually said it out loud. "No, you're not." He reached out for Snape again, letting his hand drop at the look on Snape's face.
"Even if I stay with you," Snape said, noticing the way Harry flinched as he stressed the 'if', "I do not belong to you."
The concept had always filled him with defiance, even when he had voluntarily held out his arm and entered in a servitude worse than any slavery. He was his own master now, and would never bow down to anyone, no matter what delusions they might have.
He expected to see anger in Harry's eyes, so the sadness so evident in the green gaze was just as surprising as the quiet apology.
"I'm sorry."
Harry even sounded like he meant it.
"I don't mean you belong to me," Harry added. "I... want you to belong here with me."
Covering the slight shock and the underlying panic well, Snape nodded, as if the words actually meant something to him. Standing still, he allowed Harry to reach out and touch him again, but he was unable to melt into the caresses, feeling the nervous tension in Harry's body as well.
He didn't know what it meant when Harry didn't even try to hide the awkwardness in his kisses. There were no other words, and Harry's lips were almost hesitant on his skin, touching softly, gently. Staring at the wall on the other side of the room, Snape tried to figure out what it meant, knowing that if he simply let this happen, they would fall into bed and shag and there would still be a hint of doubt somewhere deep inside of him, gnawing at him until it became impossible to ignore.
There was a soft kiss on his throat, and then Harry's teeth nipped at his skin, sucking softly but strong enough to leave a mark.
It was the gentlest marking Snape had ever experienced.
Before he could comment on it, Harry whispered, "I'm sorry I seem possessive. I don't mean it the way you think... I don't want to own you. But I want you to be... Mine."
That was utter nonsense, but Snape wasn't surprised. "You're contradicting your own words." That wasn't a surprise either.
"I know." Harry's lips against his skin formed a trembling smile. "You could accept it as one of the things."
Snape sighed. The elusiveness of all the things between them was already annoying him, and he didn't like feeling that Harry could neatly hide all sorts of unpleasantries behind the notion of things. "That makes absolutely no sense."
He was already willing to share so many things with Potter, even enjoying most of them. This blatant show of ownership was wrong, simply showing him how foolish he was to let his shields down and allow someone to take a hold on him.
Harry stepped back, looking him straight in the eyes. "It makes perfect sense to me." Leaning in, he planted a chaste kiss on Snape's lips, and whispered softly, "Mine."
"Yours?" Feeling his spine stiffen, Snape raised his hands and wrapped his arms around his chest again, neatly blocking Harry's access to his body. He glared at Harry, his voice full of scorn. "Yours?"
"Yes."
"Idiot!" Snape didn't think he could tolerate such utter stupidity from anyone, and the fact that he was simply standing here and not either storming out or hexing Harry was probably the evidence of his superb self control.
"Yes." Nodding slightly, Harry kept his gaze on Snape's, forcing himself not to touch him. "But I'm your idiot."
It dawned on Snape that this had nothing to do with ownership after all. Harry's idiotic words weren't a prelude to a violent claiming of someone's body or an attempt to ensnare their whole being, mind and soul.
When the realization finally hit, he moved without a thought, grasping Harry's shoulders in an almost bruising grip and instead of shoving him even farther away, he simply spun around with him and pressed him against the wall.
He could see worry in Harry's eyes, but there was no trace of real fear or terror. Those intense emotions had disappeared a while back, right after he had said he would stay, and though Snape was slowly starting to accept what it really meant, the thought still filled him with awe.
"I may yet die out of shock, but I do believe you're absolutely right." Snape confirmed the words with a glare and then slowly leaned in to claim Harry's lips with his own. "Exactly what I've always wanted." The sarcasm in his voice made him feel more secure about this. "My own idiot."
Harry arched into his touch.
"Not a very subtle idiot, but an idiot nevertheless." It still didn't make much sense, but Snape never expected that from a Gryffindor anyway. It was somehow enough to hear the foolish notion of belonging and accept it as a part of whatever they shared when it was clear that Harry's words had nothing to do with domination and control.
Things became a blur after that, with Harry trying to pull Snape's robes off while Snape tried to move them across the room to the bed. There was black cloth everywhere, trailing a path from the window, and the bedsprings complained loudly as Snape managed to finally land them both on the bed, half naked.
Harry insisted on kissing every bit of skin he revealed, and Snape let him, holding onto the sheets as Harry slithered down his body.
Content on letting Harry remove his clothing, Snape watched the expression of delight spread to Harry's face as he finally managed to get him naked. He didn't reciprocate, but simply said, "Take off your clothes," making Harry fluster and then scramble out of his trousers.
Their movements were almost frantic, uncoordinated. Snape enjoyed every single groan Harry let out, recognizing his name between the incomprehensible sounds of pleasure, and would have been content with anything.
"Inside me!" Harry growled, and it wasn't a plea but a command. "Now!"
Snape had the familiar jar open before he even registered the words. The way Harry was spreading his legs and pulling him closer was eloquent enough.
Harry's mouth was open, his breath coming in harsh grasps as Snape entered him. He needed this, needed to feel Snape as close to him as possibly and know that he was not going away. The touches and the kisses and Snape's gaze on him were more assuring than any words he could think of right now.
Wrapping his legs tighter around Snape's back, Harry urged him on, knowing he couldn't last much longer.
The moment seemed to stretch on forever, the almost painful pleasure throbbing through him, seeking for a release that was just beyond his grasp. Harry squeezed Snape's arms harder, his hand slipping on the sweat slick skin, and buried his face in Snape's neck.
But it wasn't before Snape saw the hunger and the desperation on Harry's face, and maybe it was lunacy to drag it out in the open again, but Snape had to know. It wasn't about Harry and his motives anymore, it was about that place inside that had almost reveled in the thought of being wanted like that, wanted for himself and not for being useful.
"Say it!"
Moving so fast he almost hit his nose on Snape's chin, Harry looked up. For a fraction of a second he searched the black gaze for something, and then growled out, "Mine!"
Snape slammed into him as a response, making him howl the word out again. Holding onto Snape with cramping fingers, Harry gasped it out over and over again as his whole world narrowed down to this one glorious moment, his body straining against Snape's.
The dark gaze never moved away from his. Snape kept staring at him even as he shuddered and then went boneless on top of him.
Harry smiled a completely happy smile, knowing that even the exasperated look and the snort wouldn't be enough to lessen it. If anything, they just made him feel warmer inside.
He'd never dared to ask for anything special, knowing that things never went the way he wished, but right now, right here, he had everything he could ever want. He had a feeling that they wouldn't have to talk about emotional attachments again, his message finally loud and clear and spelled out in a way that even a stubborn Slytherin would understand it.
Letting out a sigh, Snape leaned back against the pillows. He knew that even though it was too early to actually retire for the evening, sooner or later Harry would do his leech imitation again.
He simply pulled Harry against him.
He could feel Harry make a content little sound, still shocked by the way he could make this young idiot happy. Pulling the covers up, he cocooned them both into a warm shelter.
Harry made another one of those satisfied sounds deep in his throat and lay his head on Snape's shoulder.
There was a moment of silence, not enough to lull Harry into a drowsy stupor, but almost. His eyelids were drooping slightly, and he snuggled closer to Snape, wondering if he could ever feel better than this.
Probably not.
Snape's hand came to rest on his chest, a casual caress that made him snuggle even closer.
"Idiot." Unlike usual, it was muttered softly against his hair, the familiar word slightly slurred by a yawn.
He'd been wrong; it was possible to feel even better. Deciding not to say anything, quite certain he wouldn't be able to squeeze anything intelligent out of his throat anyway, Harry kissed Snape's shoulder. He would be perfectly happy to simply stay here in silence until they either fell asleep or decided to go downstairs for dinner.
