19 june 2004
And someone to share it with
by Cayendi (Anita Dapperens)
| Pairing: | Harry Potter/Severus Snape |
| Rating: | PG-13 |
| Spoilers: | This story is set after book 7 (but before book 6 came out) |
| Warning: | Character deaths - not the leading characters and the deaths happen before the story takes part |
| Summary: | The death of someone dear brings Harry and Severus closer together. |
 |
|
| Challenge: | 5,000 word story (count according to WordPerfect) written for Wave V of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest containing the following challenges: • Incorporate the following sentence in a story: "I don't take it up the arse, Potter," Severus snarled. (Kira) (changed ass for arse because of British spelling) • Harry overhears Snape talking to Dumbledore. WHAT? Snape's attracted to him?! (Kira) • Incorporate the quote "Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war" into the fic. (KC) • Include Harry saying, "Aw, piss off!" to someone. Not necessarily Severus. (Nienna Ciryatan) • Severus must at some point say, "You are naked and you are not in your right mind."(Knightsky) and if you look very very hard you might even find: • Remus Lupin smells the attraction between Harry and Severus on each of them and decides to play matchmaker (Maddie Eerie) |
| Disclaimer: | Harry
Potter, Severus Snape and everything related belong to J.K Rowling. I'm not making any profit, I just borrowed them to have some fun. The pictures were made by Ildi_dp and coloured by Anita |
| Beta: | Thank you Lexin and Medea Nevermore for all your help in polishing this story :o) |
| Feedback: | cayendi@cayendi.nl |
With his hand still resting on the coffin, Harry finally turned to leave, hesitating before actually walking away. He wasn’t ready. He would never be ready.
“Harry?”
Tears blurred Harry’s view as he looked up at Ron, who was still waiting for him in the doorway. He nodded in acknowledgement and, without looking back, dragged himself away from the coffin.
“Come on, mate, he wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like this.”
Harry sighed and let Ron steer him outside to join the others. He knew Ron was right, but somehow he couldn’t make himself believe it.
He wasn’t sure he would ever be ready to let go. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from touching the wall just outside the door in a parting gesture, nor stop the words from slipping out, though barely more than a whisper.
“Goodbye, Remus.”
Stepping back into the shadows, Severus suppressed a gasp as Weasley led Harry past him. Though Lupin had shown him pictures every now and then, they hadn’t done Harry justice. Even puffy-eyed and grief stricken Harry looked stunning with his perpetually tousled hair and suntanned skin.
Potter, he scolded himself, he would have to remember to call him Potter. But as his eyes followed Harry, he knew avoiding him would be the safer option.
Sighing, he pushed himself from the tree and slipped inside the funeral parlour.
He glanced at the coffin, unwilling to approach, feeling as if he were intruding. Instead he leaned against the wall and stood there in silence.
When Lupin had first invited him for tea in his rooms, he had endured his incessant rambling, eager for news about Harry, but slowly he had come to enjoy their afternoon teas, even when Lupin had no news, and he supposed that over the last couple of years they had developed a friendship of sorts.
Lupin had a very dry sense of humour, an enormous zest for life, like Harry, and he was one of few colleagues who knew how to brew a decent cup of tea.
He never expected to miss that.
He never expected to feel loss.
Sitting in Remus’ snug cottage, Harry stared at the Pensieve on the coffee table in front of him. He had never known Remus owned one, or could even afford one. For a moment he wondered whether it was Dumbledore’s, but then he remembered that Snape had inherited that one.
Snape.
Harry thought back in surprise at how Snape had come up to him at the funeral and expressed his condolences. Granted, his mumbling was barely audible, but he had expected Snape to slink into the darkness and disappear. So why had he been there?
A sudden thought struck him. Had Snape and Remus been closer than he’d imagined? Had they been lovers?
If he was honest with himself, he’d have to admit that idea hurt. Though he’d had his suspicions that Snape was gay, Harry never expected the git to look past the opinionated image he had of “the Boy who Lived” and take an interest in him, but he never expected him to be interested in someone else either ... let alone Remus.
Still, if they had been lovers, why had Snape only inherited Remus’ books, while he had inherited everything else? It made no sense, though Snape hadn’t looked particularly surprised.
Tracing the edge of the Pensieve, Harry sighed, wishing Remus had told him about his relationship with Snape. He shook his head and carefully put the Pensieve back in its box.
It was too soon.
Harry got up and walked around the cottage. The rustle of leaves against the windows made him turn around, expecting Remus to be standing there. Instead he noticed the laundry still draped over the ironing board and he barely managed to suppress a sob when he saw the book Remus had been reading lying open on the bedside table. The realisation that he would probably have to sell it hit him hard. Apart from the fact that he was away for most of the year, depending on where he was needed, he still had the deeds to the land at Godric’s Hollow.
The cottage wasn’t big but it had two bedrooms and quite a large bathroom upstairs. The kitchen, dining area and living room were open plan, divided only by the stairs. Right behind the kitchen was a small utility room and a downstairs toilet. It had been his haven, his hideaway, and the closest thing he had to a home. He had loved spending time here with Remus; flying the kite Remus had made himself, or just plain lounging around, drinking and talking their time away.
Maybe one day, when he was ready to settle down, he would finally build a nest for himself at Godric’s Hollow. Nothing too grand or posh, but a nice, cosy cottage like this one.
Unfortunately for now selling the cottage seemed to be his only option ...
Hold on ... as far as he knew, Snape had never owned a place of his own. Considering Snape’s relationship with Remus, because his own feelings had nothing to do with it of course, maybe he should give him the cottage. It would be the proper thing to do, provided the man accepted it. But even if he wouldn’t, he had to try.
Bright rays of sunlight slightly disoriented Severus as he apparated outside the gate to Lupin’s cottage. It reminded him how it had looked when he had visited Lupin in January. It had been snowing all week and the cottage had looked a picture-perfect Christmas card scene.
Lupin, however, had been weak after his transformation.
Severus shuddered, still unable to put his encounter with the werewolf behind him, even if he had forgiven Lupin long ago.
“Professor?”
Severus turned to see Harry standing on the porch, looking absolutely edible. His eyes weren’t puffy anymore, though Severus could still see sadness in them, and the light, short sleeved robe enhanced his slim figure. He averted his eyes when he realised he was staring, suddenly wishing he hadn’t given that Creevey boy his camera back.
“Are you alright, professor?”
He managed a nod as he slowly advanced towards the cottage, only speaking when he was certain his voice would obey him.
“Just reminiscing ... Potter.”
Well, at least he remembered to call him Potter.
For a moment he thought he saw a hint of sympathy in Harry’s eyes, but he quickly dismissed it. There was no reason for Harry to feel sympathy for him, was there?
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but Harry only smiled.
“I’ve set the tea outside. I hope you don’t mind, it’s beautiful today, isn’t it?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Severus followed Harry to small patio in the back garden, under the shade of a big oak tree. As he sat down in one of the wicker chairs, he noticed the official looking papers Harry carried with him.
“What exactly was your reason for inviting me to tea, Mr. Potter?”
“I ... err ... I thought it was a bit unfair that you only got Remus’ books ... and, even though I would love to keep this cottage, I have no use for it, so ... I’d like you to have it ... sir.”
Severus almost choked on his tea.
“You ... you what?” he sputtered, scolding himself for letting Harry surprise him like that.
“I know you two were very close, sir. I’m sure Remus would want you to have it.”
Was Harry implying he and Lupin had been lovers? What in Merlin’s name had Lupin told him about them?
Severus frowned and took a moment to regain his composure, then he set his tea cup down and rose, his voice controlled enough to sound solemn and stern.
“There was nothing between Lupin and I, Potter. We had some sort of friendship, I suppose, but we were never lovers. Though your offer is very generous, you’ll understand why I cannot accept it.”
Unable to look Harry in the eyes, Severus turned to leave.
“I’ll take my leave now. Thank you for the tea, Mr. Potter. Good day.”
A few days after the meeting with Snape, Harry was still in shock. He didn’t know whether he insulted Snape by assuming he and Remus had been lovers, or by offering him the cottage. One thing still bothered him, and that was whether or not he had been Remus’ lover. He was convinced Remus’ Pensieve held the answer.
For a long time Harry just gazed into the silver liquid, not sure he was ready for this, until he finally decided that waiting till he was ready was futile when not knowing was driving him mad.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and plunged his hand into the liquid, swallowing down a wave of nausea as he felt himself being sucked into Remus’ memories.
He opened his eyes and stood rooted to the spot, nausea forgotten. No picture, no description even came close to this. He tried to memorise as much as possible, but in the end all he could see were her wonderful smile, and his own eyes. A lonely tear slid down his cheek as he reached out to touch her, barely able to suppress the urge to run to her. All too quickly the memory faded, and smoke whirled around him as the image dissolved into another.
When the smoke cleared up, he looked straight into one of the fiercest glares he had ever seen, though the owner was considerably younger now. It took him a moment to realise that the glare wasn’t directed at him and he turned his head in anticipation. His breath hitched at seeing Sirius and his father leaning on each other, smirking at Snape.
“I don’t take it up the arse, Potter,” Snape snarled, “but I’m starting to think you do.”
Harry couldn’t stop himself from chuckling as he watched Sirius and his father suddenly jump apart. Noticing their angry looks, however, he wished Snape hadn’t said it. He wanted to scream, wanted to tell Snape to run, remembering how cruel they could be, but at the same time he felt silly knowing it was only a memory and he couldn’t change a thing.
This time the whirling smoke was a welcome distraction.
“Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war!”
Harry barely got the chance to take a good look around him, but when he saw the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Quidditch teams fly above him, he knew he had to be in the stands. He easily spotted his father when he took a good look at the Gryffindor Chasers, smiling and cheering with the students around him as he scored the first points, only ten minutes into the game.
Sirius hadn’t been exaggerating; his father had been an excellent chaser.
Together with Minerva, Severus cleaned out Lupin’s room, packing Lupin’s personal belongings into boxes. It took them nearly all afternoon before they had finally finished and were able to shrink the boxes to the size of ice cubes. Three of them contained the books Lupin left him, the rest Minerva would give to Harry.
“I’ve been thinking of offering him the Defence position.”
Severus heart sped up, his hands trembled and he fought hard to keep a neutral expression. There was no doubt who Minerva was referring to.
“I thought he was studying curse-breaking in Egypt?”
At Minerva’s questioning glance, he realised he hadn’t managed as indifferent a tone as he was aiming for.
“He finished his studies last year, Severus.”
The way she said it suggested he should know, but the only thing he remembered was that Harry had still been in Egypt before Lupin ...
Harry returning to Hogwarts. Could he cope with seeing Harry every day? Having him close again, but not having him? He shook his head. It didn’t matter because it wasn’t up to him, even if it seemed Minerva was asking his opinion. At least she hadn’t waited till the last minute to drop the bomb, like Albus used to do.
“Right. Well, if you feel he’s up to the job.”
Without another word he pocketed the shrunken boxes and stalked out of the room before Minerva could lecture him on cutting the boy some slack, even though he was hardly a boy anymore. The last thing he needed was to have Minerva on his case on top of everything else.
He made his way down to his dungeons, narrowly avoiding Peeves and struggling not to hex the portrait guarding his rooms.
Fortunately his threats still shut the damn thing up.
Harry’s smile grew wider and wider as the memories of his parents and Sirius passed him by. Even the more annoying pranks couldn’t dampen his joy. Granted though, Remus had been right when he said that his father had outgrown his school behaviour, his mum certainly had been a good influence on him. It still didn’t excuse what his father had done, even if he’d finally seen proof that Snape could give as good as he got ...
As smoke whirled around his head once more, he closed his eyes, fully prepared to be thrown out of the Pensieve at any time, leaving him very surprised to hear his own voice.
“Professor?”
Merlin, did he look young, but he always had, hadn’t he?
A scowl adorned Snape’s face as he turned to face him, his heavy black robes ruining the normally impressive billowing effect.
Remus had never mentioned that he had seen this encounter, one that Harry immediately remembered. It had taken place right before the final battle. Snape was about to ‘do his duty’ as a Death Eater for what, hopefully, was the last time. Harry had felt strange as he saw his professor sneak out of the Great Hall. Everyone had been clapping him on the shoulder to wish him luck and warn him not to take unnecessary risks, but apart from Dumbledore, he hadn’t seen anyone approach Snape at all. So he had followed Snape to his dungeons to make sure Snape knew that he was in his corner, like he knew Snape would be in his.
“Good luck, sir.”
He watched himself walk away and expected the memory to end there, puzzled as to why Remus had left him this particular memory in the first place, but it didn’t.
Snape’s scowl stayed in place until Harry couldn’t hear his own retreating footsteps any more, but then, and only then, did his former teacher allow his mask to slip, showing something akin to surprise. As if that wasn’t enough, frown lines disappeared and a tiny smile curled Snape’s lips. Eyes widened in shock at seeing his former Potions master smile, Harry finally understood his gesture had been appreciated. Snape had ...
He didn’t have much time to ponder as the image dissolved again.
Harry returning to Hogwarts.
Merlin knew he had dreamed about it from the day Harry left. But then again, he had also dreamed about Harry seducing him, and he knew better than to believe in dreams. Divination, he gladly left to others.
Knowing that he would only start to fret if he let himself, Severus began to unpack the boxes, carefully putting the books away after noting down their particulars in his register. Albus always joked about his fastidiousness concerning his possessions, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t that he was ridiculously tidy, his desk certainly attested to the opposite, he just had to know everything was accounted for, needed to know everything was catalogued and put away in its rightful place.
He caressed the spine of what looked to be a book on werewolves, which intrigued him, having been obsessed with them during the summer after his sixth year, when he needed something to ease his mind. Because even though the wolf hadn’t been close enough to touch him, he’d had nightmares nearly every night for over a year. Even now they plagued him at times.
Leafing through the book he was surprised to find that it was a unique one. Not even a book really, but a journal, written by a werewolf mid-eighteenth century. Apparently one of Lupin’s favourites, because it was filled with notes and comments in Lupin’s hand. As tempting as it was to dive in and read it, he closed the book, put it aside to read it later on and took the next one out of the box.
“Damn it, Albus, let it go!”
Snape appeared quite agitated, his voice lowered to a dangerous whisper. The portrait decorating Snape’s classroom (Dumbledore’s wish) merely twinkled. Harry shook his head, even in death Dumbledore seemed annoyingly chipper.
“You miss him, Severus, there is no shame in that.”
Clenched fists at his sides, Snape’s expression went from agitated to murderous.
“He is free to choose his own path now, Albus,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “And I for one will grant him that, even if you never could.”
For a moment Harry thought they were talking about him, but he quickly dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Though he had worked closely with Snape while preparing for the final battle, they hadn’t developed a friendship, no matter how much he had wanted to. Sometimes he wondered about that.
The portrait-Dumbledore suddenly looked terribly sad, but Snape, having turned his back to the portrait, did not notice.
“So are you, my boy, and yet you still lock yourself away in your dungeons.”
Snape shook his head, and Harry wished he had turned the other way, yearning to see the emotion he was sure was showing on the man’s face.
“He was never meant for me.”
Silence fell and Harry could have sworn Dumbledore tried to reach out to comfort Snape.
“I do miss him, Albus,” Snape’s voice was barely audible, “but I won’t stand for it. It has to stop.”
Dumbledore sighed as Snape left the classroom, his expression thoughtful.
Harry barely noticed himself being transported to another memory.
“Thank you, Severus.”
Harry looked up just in time to see Remus taking the steaming goblet from Snape.
“I just made tea, will you join me?”
The way Snape stood motionless in the doorway, Harry wondered if he had even heard Remus, until he suddenly nodded, almost imperceptibly, closed the door and sat down on a side chair. Remus opened his mouth, looking at the more comfortable chair next to his, but closed it again with a shrug and poured tea instead. After a couple of minutes of seemingly awkward silence, Remus set his cup down and picked up a postcard.
“I received this by owl this morning. It’s from Harry.”
Harry turned to watch Snape’s reaction, certain that Snape would tell Remus to stop nattering about that ‘impertinent brat’. He was sure Snape was glad to see him gone. But all Snape did was glare and raise an eyebrow.
Remus seemed to think it was his consent to go on.
“He’s in Romania at the moment, with Ron and Charlie Weasley, studying dragons.”
Harry was shown more and more ‘tea-time with Snape and Remus’ memories. Each time, Harry expected Snape to decline, or even get angry with Remus for bothering him with his endless drivel. Only when Harry found himself back in the present again, did he realise that Snape welcomed it, and jealousy welled up in the pit of his stomach. Had his former potions master really been that desperate to befriend Remus?
Remus ...
Harry suddenly felt guilty for being so obsessed with the Pensieve. He felt he should have waited before diving in, at least until he’d had some time to cope with Remus’ death. Now he was torn between mourning him and solving the puzzle of the memories presented.
Why had Remus put them in the Pensieve? They only confirmed Harry’s belief that Remus and Snape had been more than friends. But Snape had denied it, quite fervently in fact. Or had he protested a little too loudly?
And what was that memory of Dumbledore and Snape in the potions classroom about?
Harry took his wand, sifted through the memories to find the right one and found himself back in the potions classroom once more. Watching the replay of events again and again, he slowly realised that the conversation couldn’t have been about Remus. Remus had still been teaching at Hogwarts at the time of the memory. Which brought him back to his thoughts when he had first seen the memory, and suddenly everything clicked into place.
It was him Snape was attracted to.
Granted, it sounded too ridiculous to be true and he barely dared raise his hopes, but it was the only explanation that made any sense at all.
Severus ran his fingertips along the edges of a photograph that had fallen out of one of Lupin’s books. He couldn’t take his eyes off the image of Harry and Lupin, arm in arm in front of Lupin’s cottage, obscenely big smiles on their faces. But it wasn’t Harry that had caught his attention. Lupin’s cottage fascinated him.
It looked almost as it had the day he had visited Potter, but still covered in a layer of dew, glittering in the morning sun. Of course, remembering Remus’ financial situation, most of the furniture was old and worn, but that was partly what made it so welcoming.
He sighed.
Hogwarts had been his refuge, his prison for so long.
Being the only member of staff housed in this part of Hogwarts allowed him his solitude, since no one else seemed keen on spending time in the dungeons, but no matter how much effort he put in decorating his chambers, or how comfortable it was to sit in front of the fireplace, they were not his.
Lupin’s cottage would have been perfect, and he couldn’t stop thinking that he should have accepted it. He would have finally had a place to call his own ...
and he let it slip through his hands because of a technicality.
He hoped Harry decided against selling it.
Walking from Dumbledore’s old offices to the dungeons, Harry felt himself growing more nervous with every step. For days he hadn’t been able to put it out of his head, or rather, put Severus Snape out of his head. He had even started calling him Severus to himself.
He was falling for the man all over again.
Harry had lost count of how many times he had revisited the Pensieve to replay the ‘Snape memories’ as he had started to call them. Though he couldn’t get enough of the memory where Severus confessed his feelings, the ones in which he was still a teenager were his favourites. It was strange seeing ‘adult’ Severus’ expressions on a teenage version and he couldn’t help but snigger at the sneers and glares he had frequently been on the wrong end of. Observing those scenes over and over again made it obvious that teenage Severus had had as much emotional baggage as he had had, though with less support. He had no doubt that Albus had cared deeply for Severus and had done his best to protect him, but had been plagued by conflicting interests when it became Severus against his father and friends.
Somehow Severus got caught in the fall-out.
Reaching Severus’ chambers, Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts.
The portrait opened as soon as he had knocked, but Harry wasn’t fazed. He ignored the glare, stepped inside and pinned Severus against the wall. Years of pent up feelings came unleashed as his lips touched Severus’, nipping and tugging, trailing a path up and down his jaw, but when he ran his tongue across Severus’ lips, begging for entrance, Severus’ body instantly tensed against his. Seeing the shock in Severus’ eyes, Harry held himself perfectly still for a moment, their breathing the only proof that time hadn’t frozen. Severus wasn’t pushing him away, which was good, but he wasn’t relaxing either. Slowly, he slid his hands down Severus sides in circular motions, trying to soothe him, never taking his eyes off Severus’ as he tried to gauge his reaction.
There was none.
Then, all of a sudden, Severus’ breath hitched, his eyelashes fluttered and, finally, his lips parted.
Harry releasing the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He licked Severus’ lips, eager to explore, but before he got the chance, he suddenly found himself with his back against the wall, Severus’ tongue pushing inside. His plans flew straight out the window as his mouth was thoroughly plundered.
It was a dream; it had to be. There was no other explanation for having Harry in his chambers. He thought of pinching himself, but he was too scared of waking up to actually do it.
You’re beautiful, he thought, yet couldn’t quite bring himself to say it out loud. Instead, he brushed a wayward lock of hair from Harry’s face, trailing his thumb across his cheek, rubbing his kiss-swollen lips. He gasped when Harry parted his lips and ran his tongue over his thumb before sucking it into his mouth and all he could do was watch. Watching Harry suck his thumb, watching Harry watching him, drowning in a see of green, hoping he wouldn’t wake up.
It was worth it. Even if Severus’ threw him out now, it still would have been worth it just to see the expression on his face. For years all he had known were glares in abundance, scowls and even the occasional sneer, but now Severus had this far-away look in his eyes that made Harry’s heart beat even faster. He couldn’t get enough of it, or the thumb, but he still wanted more.
Grabbing two hands full of black material, he turned the tables again, pushing Severus against the wall, crashing their mouths together none too gently and pulling their bodies close. It was such a rush, tasting Severus and duelling his tongue, that he barely felt Severus’ hands sliding around him, pulling him even closer.
“Bed,” Harry whispered, panting as they parted.
Severus just stood against the wall, breathing heavily, his eyes closed. He didn’t let go of Harry though, on the contrary, his grip only seemed to tighten. Still Harry was afraid he had gone too far, too soon and he prepared himself to be sent away.
After Merlin knows how long, Severus opened his eyes again and regarded Harry with a mixture of want and suspicion. At least that was the closest Harry could get to deciphering Severus’ expression.
The thought that Severus hadn’t heard him crossed his mind, yet he didn’t dare repeat it. Closing his eyes, Harry waited.
In the end, he almost missed the whispered “yes” before he was pushed backwards, stumbling over a footstool. Severus grabbed his hands to stop him falling to the ground.
Inside the bedroom, Severus helped Harry out of his robes and, though Harry would have loved to undress Severus himself, took care of his own clothes while Harry struggled with his shoes and socks. He froze when he looked up. Severus was smiling; he was actually smiling.
“You should smile more.”
It was out of his mouth before he realised, but Severus merely pushed him onto the bed, claiming his mouth for another kiss.
Severus swore he could hear Harry purring as he curled up next to him, utterly spent. He even expected him to simply fall asleep and snore. Still trying to work out what in Merlin’s name happened, Severus knew sleep wouldn’t come easily for him tonight.
“McGonagall offered me the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.”
“Yes, I know.”
Apparently Harry had no intention of falling asleep, or leaving him in peace with his thoughts.
“I’ll decline if you want me to.”
He would have said no instantly ... before. He wasn’t sure why Harry would think he might want him to though.
“You applied for the position every year, haven’t you?”
Ah, Severus thought, so that was it..
“Not since Riddle’s demise, Harry.”
“So, you don’t want it?”
“I might have, once, but Albus didn’t think it wise at the time and he was right. Potions suit me better.”
“Then why ...”
“Appearances, Harry.”
When no comment came, Severus wrapped his arms around Harry and let himself get lost in his thoughts.
It was not a dream ... well, not in the sense that he was dreaming. Harry had come to him with the intention of seducing him. Why, he wasn’t completely certain yet, but Harry had appeared sincere when he swore it wasn’t a prank. Severus was curious about what exactly Lupin’s Pensieve had to do with it though ... if anything at all. Harry had been rambling at that point, but that could have been because he was playing with Harry’s nipples at the time.
And even if this was a one off ...
Severus thoughts were interrupted when Harry said: “I’ll send for my clothes tomorrow.”
“What?”
“Well, no need for me to get my own rooms when I’m going to be spending most of my time here anyway, is there?”
Now Severus pinched himself. He probably misunderstood. The brat hadn’t just implied that he was moving in with him.
“We might need to enlarge the sitting room, though. It seems a bit cramped.”
He liked his sitting room just the way it was, thank you very much.
“Harry ...”
He stopped himself. Why was he protesting? His dream was about to come true, and he was protesting. He must be delirious
He sighed and planted a kiss on Harry’s bare shoulder.
“Goodnight, Harry.”
“Goodnight, Severus. Sweet dreams.”
Oh, no doubt he would have ... now.
“I’m still giving you the cottage though.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m still giving you the cottage.”
“You are naked and you are not in your right mind,” Severus protested half-heartedly.
“Aw, piss off,” Harry said, but the comment was rendered ineffective by the drowsy tone of his voice.
Pulling the now definitely, and finally, dozing man closer, Severus couldn’t help but smile.
That was all he had ever wanted.
A home.
And someone to share it with.
The End
Harry Potter Fiction
• Someone to share it with
PG-13 Harry/Severus
• Fools in love
PG-13 Severus/Remus
• Burying the past
R/NC-17 Harry/Severus
• Building a family
PG-13 Severus/Remus
Meal Drabbles
G Harry/Severus
• Breakfast as usual?
• Obsessions
• Best laid plans
back