NOT OVER
By Schemingreader and Your Cruise Director

Not Sleeping

It was colder than Harry expected so deep in the woods, though it had been a warm autumn day, with students in their shirtsleeves as they cheered on the Quidditch match. Slytherin had won by a narrow margin after Malfoy made one of the most brilliant catches Harry had ever seen. Scorpius looked so like his father that Harry couldn't help thinking of the past whenever he looked at the boy, yet they were very different in temperament. In many ways Scorpius behaved the way Harry thought Lupin must have done at the same age, intense and a bit uneasy, as if someone might ask him what his grandparents had done during the war.

The war was never far away, though Harry's scar had long ago stopped burning. The memory of that pain rather than the pain itself woke him now at night. It called him to retrace his steps in those last hours, when Unforgivable Curses had fallen from his lips as easily as the Patronus charm. He glanced back in the direction of the castle, but what lights were still burning could not be seen from the Forbidden Forest. His own room was dark. Ginny was at Grimmauld Place, and his children were in the dormitories.

Perhaps coming back to Hogwarts had been a mistake, after all. Harry had thought that teaching would fill the gnawing unease that woke him on nights like this ever since Albus had left for school. Even with Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister of Magic, politics continued much as usual, and the Auror office had become tense and uncomfortable. All along Harry had believed that the children would need to be taught from a young age to respect the centaurs and work with their elves, but so long as he worked for the Ministry, he couldn't do much on that count except within his own home. Everyone had agreed that it made sense for him to want to teach, he'd been good at it, and even Ginny had encouraged him to go.

So what was he doing standing inches from the spot where he had died, once, to keep others alive?

His children always teased him about his habit of walking around the house at night. It was harder to sleep, knowing that he had pieces of his heart walking around outside his body. Each of them was his favorite and he loved them more than he had ever imagined possible.

It went a long way to compensating for the conflicts he had with Ginny. He still loved her, but he had to admit that it was a relief to live apart. Being the youngest of seven and the only, precious girl had shaped her character, not always in the most positive way. It was true that she loved James, Al, and Lils, and treated them with a gentleness that Molly never showed her own children. But why shouldn't she? They were wonderful children, and he and Ginny had the money that the Weasleys had lacked. There was no strain on her as a mother.

So why was she so demanding? She always wanted sex, and Harry wasn't in the mood. She got tetchy when he turned her down; it was almost easier just to lie back and think of England. But she wanted so many other things, too. He hadn't thought of staying at home with children as a sacrifice, and now she wanted to train for a career. Why had he gone to work and left her at home, when she would have liked to be an Auror and he would have liked to see the children more? She felt stifled by all the things he wanted and he felt as though she blamed him. This wasn't what he'd imagined marriage would be, fifteen years ago when he'd asked her.

There was a sound in the underbrush. He did have a reason to feel that something might happen tonight. Even knowing his own power did nothing to stop the feeling of dread at the pit of his stomach. Becoming a father had done that to him.

"Potter." It was a familiar voice, deep, and it carried in a tone only a little louder than a whisper.

"Magorian?"

"Potter, you imbecile, when is the last time a centaur snuck up on you?"

He smiled again as he recognized the tone, dissipating the fear that had gripped him. Usually, when he talked to Snape, Harry started the conversation in his head, so it was a bit strange to have his thoughts interrupted by someone of whom he hadn't been aware of thinking. Besides, that murmur had been real, vibrating the air around him. Perhaps he was near the spot where he had dropped the Resurrection Stone or where Dumbledore had hidden the Mirror of Erised.

"Severus," he said. "Come out where I can look at you."

Another sound, rustling leaves and a cracking twig, then a shadow fell across the feeble light making its way into the clearing. Yes, that was Snape as Harry remembered him, dark and intimidating. In the dimness he could not see the lined face nor the lanky hair, but they were as easy to conjure in memory as the voice.

"It's good to see you, Severus."

"Indeed?" The sarcasm was not lost on Harry. "Why is that, Potter? Have you longed to regale me in person with tales of your triumph over the Dark Lord?"

Still smiling, Harry moved closer to the black outline. He had never had such a vivid conversation with Snape since the war -- usually, when he tried, he had to go back and revise what he wanted to say or how he expected Snape to respond. "If you know I won, then you know that your death was not in vain," he began.

A noise cut him off, so strange that Harry felt his fingers close around his wand before he realized what it was. Snape had laughed.

"Are you -- you're not a ghost, are you?" Snape laughing! That was nothing from Harry's head. He had nothing rehearsed for such a reaction.

"How you managed such high grades in Defense I will never understand. Did you somehow steal my old textbook from that class, as well?"

"Lumos!" Harry cast silently. His guts were frozen again. Was this an Inferius? Drawing on all the power he had, he cast a wall of flame between the two them and the castle.

"Potter, Inferi can't speak. Who is left who could animate an Inferius, and why would there be only one?"

Harry let the flames burn out. The night was cold and dark once more. "Are you alive?"

"Yes."

"Have you been alive all this time?"

"I cannot believe you are thirty-eight years old. Yes, I've been alive all this time."

All of the clever things to say that Harry had rehearsed in his head were gone. He stumbled forward and threw his arms around Severus Snape. "I thought you died!" he said.

"And that bothered you, did it?" Snape's dry tone had no bite in it. "It seems that absence does make the heart grow fonder. Potter. Stop."

Whether Snape meant to stop embracing him or stop babbling, Harry didn't know, but he didn't seem to be able to do either. He did manage to keep his fingernails from gripping Snape's shoulders through his robes.

"Of course it bothered me! You gave me your memories -- not just the things I needed to know, so I'd believe you. He killed you for no reason..." Harry's eyes were wet. For all these years he had wondered whether he might have done something differently in the Shrieking Shack, something that might have allowed Snape to live. "How?" he asked, then stopped talking before the tears reached his voice.

"I would prefer to have this conversation without you stepping on my foot," Snape announced.

Likely Snape had always been so infuriating just so that no one would ever get this close to him. Swallowing hard, Harry stepped back. "How did you survive?" he asked again, pleased that his voice was steady.

"I had witnessed the Dark Lord murder in many ways. Apart from your mother's sacrifice, there is no known antidote for the Killing Curse, but preventive measures could be taken for many of the others. No one questions a Potions master when he brews blood thickeners and venom neutralizers."

"But you were dead. You weren't breathing. Hermione thought you were dead too. And you didn't come back. When your body disappeared we thought it had been something -- something the Death Eaters did..."

Snape pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Here. I don't remember you being so weepy as a child, Potter."

Harry laughed. "I wasn't, then. I've just fantasized about you for so long--what I wish I could have told you, if I'd had the chance."

"What would you have told me?"

"Snape, have you been living in the forest outside of Hogwarts all along?"

"No. Don't be silly. I want to hear what you wanted to tell me, Potter." In the pale wandlight, Harry could see Snape's mocking smirk.

"Where were you, then?"

"This may amaze you, but there are other countries than this, other places one could travel. I was your age, twenty years ago, and I'd only been across the Channel once. I took the opportunity to see some of the world."

"What brought you back?"

Snape paused. "Potter."

"I wanted to apologize to you for not -- for doubting -- because you had to do such terrible --"

"I can tell you've rehearsed this."

"Damn it, I admired you for being so brave, and now you're here and as much of a bastard as ever!"

"Yes, well. Thank you ever so much."

"You let me think you were dead for twenty years!"

"I'm not accountable to you." Snape looked at his nails. "I did, however, need to check on the school, and on your safety. It's quite a good thing you are such a powerful wizard, since you're still so impulsive and incautious."

"Did you even think you were going to die? You gave me all of those memories. You looked into my eyes, and --"

Snape nodded. "Yes, I did think I might die."

Harry brought his wand up, and in its light, saw the two deep scars indented in the side of Snape's neck. He reached his hand out to touch one, and Snape shivered. He was looking into Harry's face.

"How much did it hurt?" Harry asked.

"The bite? Not nearly as much as you might think. It was far more frustrating to fall to the floor, knowing that I would never see the Dark Lord again, without being able to express my loathing even as he thought I lay dying." Harry's fingers had moved across to the other puncture mark, and Snape shivered again. "You timed both your entrance and your exit very well, for a change. It would have been exceedingly difficult to give you my memories had you not been present."

"I still don't understand why you didn't tell anyone you were alive." The betrayal felt more personal than it should have. Snape had given him not only a weapon to defeat Voldemort but a glimpse of his mother he had never hoped to have. "What could it have cost you to send a message?"

"And risk it being traced back to me? With the possibility of a life sentence to Azkaban or a visit from the Dementors?"

"You must have known I wouldn't have allowed it!" The appraising look Snape gave him made Harry feel very small. "All right...why couldn't you tell me, at least?"

Beneath his fingers, Harry could feel the steady thudding of Snape's pulse. "I had no idea you'd become so sentimental," Snape said dryly. "You owe me no debt, Potter. As you must have realized, you were not the member of your family to whom I felt an attachment."

"I heard you tell Dumbledore that. In your memories. When he thought maybe you had come to care about me." Harry felt his cheeks warming and dropped his hand. "For a long time I couldn't figure out why you would have included that conversation."

"I didn't want Dumbledore to lie to you," Snape said. "I thought he meant to sacrifice his life, and mine, and yours."

"You weren't willing. For any of us."

"No. That was one thing Albus and the Dark Lord had in common. They were willing to waste everything and everyone, no matter how much potential, no matter how irreplaceable."

Harry was going to protest, but he realized that in spite of Snape's flat tone, his eyes were brimming.

"Like my mother."

"Yes, she had magic to burn, but it was more important to Dumbledore to-- Her death meant more to him than her life. Yours, too."

"But I didn't die."

He still had his hand on the side of Snape's neck. He reached over to touch the tear that had spilled onto his cheek. Snape grabbed his wrist.

"You misunderstand, Potter, if you think I had altruistic reasons for telling you. Sparing you pain was never my..."

"I know that." The wetness on Harry's finger felt scalding hot in the night air. A shiver wracked him. It was growing even colder, and he had not brought a jumper. "Can we walk? If there's no enchantment so you can stay hidden here?"

Snape released his wrist as if he thought Harry might try to walk hand in hand with him. Turning away from the castle, he moved in the direction of Hogsmeade. "What brought you out here tonight? Can't stand the thought that the best Seeker at Hogwarts might be a Malfoy?"

"He won't be the best Seeker until stops looking over his shoulder for Bludgers once the Snitch is in sight," retorted Harry automatically. "And I understand why you didn't want Dumbledore to lie to me. I don't understand why you let me see the rest. The part about my mother, and your Patronus, and how you never cared about me."

"Did I hurt your feelings, Potter, or your pride?" There was satisfaction in Snape's voice.

"Neither. I never thought you could stand the sight of me. But you always intended to disappear, didn't you, if you didn't die? And you made sure I wouldn't feel guilty, or obligated."

A small noise that might have signified amusement or disgust burst from Snape. "Not everything I did had to do with you."

"Right. But you're the one who decided to reappear tonight."

Ahead of him by half a pace, Snape shrugged. He wasn't wearing wizarding clothing, Harry realized, but a long, black coat with buttons. "I've been home a few times. This is the just first time I've let you see me."

"Why?"

"You're alone." He stopped. Harry put a hand on his arm. "You keep touching me. Why are you touching me, Potter?"

"You're alive. I've wanted to talk with you. You knew my mother. Sirius and Remus really only knew my dad."

"There's Petunia."

"Right, well, she hated me. She's in her seventies now, and she won't see my children."

Snape looked down at Harry's hand, obsessively smoothing his coat sleeve. "You still bite your nails. You defeated Voldemort and you still bite your fingernails."

He reached over and pushed Harry's hair out of his eyes.

"I felt a premonition, tonight, that told me to come out here," Harry said.

"I still don't like you," Snape said, and bending slightly, kissed Harry on the mouth. He was not a good kisser, though his lips were soft, but Harry was, and he pulled the other man very close.

It was much warmer standing pressed against Snape. Still, Harry shuddered softly, feeling his lower body tighten with a sort of arousal he had not felt in many years. Snape must have felt it too, because he released Harry's lips.

"If you don't like me, why did you wait to catch me alone?" Harry asked him.

"Your hands are cold," Snape muttered. "You should be indoors." For a moment Harry thought he was about to be dismissed and sent back to the castle as Snape turned and continued on his path. "This way."

It was easier to follow than to question where they were going. Harry still felt a bit like Snape might vanish into nothingness. "We held a funeral," he offered. "Even without a body."

"If the Death Eaters had found my body, they would have left it where it lay."

"Lucius Malfoy tried to tell us that but we didn't listen." The memory of that funeral was as clear as if it had been the day before. It had not been so cold as now yet Harry had been numb. Some of the others had thought the Malfoys should have been given to the Dementors. Harry knew that if Snape had been alive, even with his own testimony, they might have planned the same for Dumbledore's murderer.

"I think I understand why you didn't come back," he said. "But I wish I had known." Snape whirled, batlike, to look at him.

"Why?" Snape asked. "Why should I have told you anything? Why did you kiss me? Why?"

"You kissed me." Harry couldn't believe it.

Snape looked furious, just like in the old days.

"Because I saw your memories and I understood that you loved me," Harry explained.

Snape sputtered. "I didn't love you. I didn't like you. I don't like you now."

"Fine then, I loved you for being so brave and dying for me."

Snape strode ahead of him, into the wood, until they came to a wizarding tent. "You're catching cold. You're an adult and the father of three and you can't work out to put on a hat and gloves in northern Scotland in October. Can't you at least cast yourself a warming charm?"

"Your criticism used to be crueler -- now you sound like my mother-in-law."

The tent had a fireplace inside, and Snape cast a spell that built a fire. He stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed.

"I thought I saw you die," Harry said. "You finally looked at me and saw me, and then --"

"And then passed out. Thank God we were counting on your magic and your self-sacrificing, slightly suicidal tendencies and not your abilities as a healer."

Harry came close to him and looked into his eyes, again. When he wasn't Occluding or despairing or both, Snape had ordinary dark brown eyes, with long lashes and bushy brows. His face was a little weathered and there were smile lines by his eyes--probably not from smiling, Harry thought.

"Don't--" Snape said, apparently to himself, right before he bent his head and kissed Harry again.

Harry had been hard since Snape had kissed him earlier. He pressed firmly against the older man's body so that Snape would know it too. The buttons on the long coat resisted his icy fingers.

"Stop making things difficult," muttered Snape against his mouth and the buttons popped open all together. Harry wondered why Snape didn't use a spell to warm his hands, too, but then Snape picked up the fingers in his own and brought them to his mouth.

"Oh, God, Severus," Harry groaned, thrusting himself awkwardly against the leg exposed as the coat fell away. He felt seventeen all over.

Snape was rubbing his mouth over two of Harry's fingers. "This is mad," he said as he moved from one to the other, sucking on it. He wasn't careful with his teeth.

"Tell me again that you don't like me."

"Be quiet." As if to be certain, he dropped the fingers and crushed his mouth over Harry's once more. He was hard as well, and they ground together with the urgency of much younger men.

Kissing Snape wasn't anything like kissing Ginny had been, back when it was all Harry had thought he wanted to do -- it wasn't like sunlit afternoons or Honeyduke's. It wasn't like kissing Ginny now, either, even though it was just as demanding. Snape's mouth was harder and his teeth felt uneven and Harry couldn't get enough.

"This is going to ruin everything," Snape gasped when Harry put his palm against Snape's flies, feeling his erection through his clothing.

"What?" Harry continued to lick and kiss the other man's neck, laving the scars where the snake had bitten him. He was slightly dazed. "You're alive. I want to -- I can't believe it."

Harry got Snape back onto the bed in the corner. He unbuttoned his flies and leaned down to take his cock in his mouth. "Oh God, oh God, what are you doing?" Snape's voice was low, but Harry could hear the note of panic.

Harry grinned and moved up his body to kiss him, still pulling on his prick. "I thought it was obvious."

"I'm old enough to be --" Snape protested.

"I am, too," Harry said, and went down on him again. God it was good; Snape's cock was quite a mouthful, and he moaned as Harry ran his tongue over the sensitive vein.

"Potter--" Snape said. Harry heard his voice as though from underwater. He looked up. Snape's face was flushed. "You haven't seen me for twenty years. Why are you doing this?"

"I spent more time in your memories," Harry said. "I wanted to see my mother, and I saw --"

"You felt sorry for me."

"I identified with you. I loved you. I --"

"And this is how you want to show it?"

"It's a good way," Harry said. He leaned down and kissed Snape on the mouth, trying to convey something. He looked into Snape's eyes. "You were afraid I would feel sorry for you and couldn't stand for me to know."

"Shut up," Snape said softly. "Take your clothes off. If we must do this, we'll do it properly."

"Oh, we must," Harry said. He had to get up to undress. Impatient as he was, he recalled the note of panic in Snape's voice and forced himself to strip slowly, without using magic. Snape watched him. "Wanted to do this for such a long time," he told Snape, tossing his trousers over a chair.

"What would your wife say?"

Harry squirmed, but he did not try to evade Snape's gaze. "She'll be angry. I doubt she'll be surprised though. Things haven't been...I don't want to talk about her." Snape was looking at Harry's cock as Harry climbed onto the bed, straddling him.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to fuck you." No point beating around the bush.

Tension ripped through Snape's body. "Did you ever learn a proper lubrication charm?" asked Snape gruffly.

"No...I've never done this with a man," admitted Harry. He felt rather than heard Snape sigh and thought he seemed relieved.

"Good thing one of us has done this before," Snape said under his breath, and Harry must have registered surprise, because Snape rolled his eyes. "Potter, I'm 58 years old, did you think I was a virgin?"

Harry looked down at him. "Have you had many lovers?"

Snape looked disgusted. "Lovers -- hardly. I have had many encounters with men. I don't think this is a good idea." Though he was obviously still erect, he rolled out from under Harry and stood up. "Your idea of me is distorted. Your idea of love is --"

Harry got to his feet, naked, and put his arms out to block him from leaving. He was nearly as tall as Snape, but not quite. "All right, then, you can fuck me. Or I'll suck you off. Or we -- I just want to do something to show you. You suffered so much and I want to give you pleasure. Please let me."

"Potter --"

"Could you please -- I'm naked -- could you please call me Harry?"

Snape slid his shirt-sleeved arms around Harry's body and kissed him on the mouth. His mouth opened tentatively and their tongues touched. They kissed a long time, mouth on wet mouth, Snape making delicious small sounds. When the kiss broke, they leaned their foreheads together and Snape looked into Harry's eyes. "Harry," he said. "This wasn't how I meant for it to be. I thought you would be angry with me for having hidden away for twenty years, and we'd have a good shouting match, and I would just -- go." They kissed again. Snape let his wand fall into his hand from his sleeve, and did a wordless spell to take off his shirt and vest. "You're imagining sex will make everything --"

Harry kissed him again, trying to put as much feeling into it as he could. It was very exciting to be chest to chest with a man, and to have his heart beating so close. Snape's body was hairy.

He moved back on top of Snape on the bed, and rooting around his chest. He got one of Snape's nipples into his mouth, and teased it with his teeth and tongue, listening to the tightening of Snape's breath. He had his arms around Snape's body -- strange how it was all straight lines.

When put his hands on Snape's buttocks, Harry could feel the gluteal muscle shift under his hands, and he grasped and squeezed and pushed the cheeks apart, shoving Snape's hard cock up against his own belly. He worked his finger into Snape's arse, feeling the heat. They kissed and groaned, tongues touching.

"Do you want me to--" Harry whispered.

"God help me, yes."

"Teach me the spell." Harry's own wand was over with his clothes. He picked up Snape's. It was not the dark wand Snape had had as a Hogwarts professor -- the wand that had killed Dumbledore.

Snape's fingers closed over his and Harry felt his wrist being bent as Snape turned the wand in his fingers. "Demadesco," Snape said.

Now when Harry slid his finger into Snape's arse, it was smooth and slick. He felt around, bending the knuckle, wondering whether he would be able to tell if he was rubbing the right spot. His fingertip brushed across something firm and Snape cried out.

"That's not so hard," Harry whispered, smiling as Snape writhed and squeezed around his finger. It felt almost too tight when he pushed in another one but Snape shoved down and clutched at Harry's wrist.

"It's enough."

Harry was afraid that wasn't true, but he didn't think he should be hesitant, so he spat on his hand and rubbed it on his prick. He half-expected Snape to tell him he should use a spell for that too, but Snape only watched him as he moved against him.

"Not too fast," Snape warned, rolling onto his belly. His voice was ragged and he was breathing harshly. Harry had had sex this way with Ginny but that had been completely different -- he knew her body, he knew how to make her come. As soon as he trusted himself to let go of his own prick, pushing it slowly inside, he wrapped his fingers around Snape's.

"I love you," he said.

"No you don't."

"Stop telling me how I feel." Sweat was dripping down Harry's forehead as he pressed over Snape's back. "You don't know how I feel."

Twisting, Snape tried to kiss him, making small noises in his throat.

"You're determined to get in your argument," Harry said, grunting with effort. He lunged forward and kissed him thoroughly, then slid back and began to thrust as hard as he could.

"Good," Snape said, "ah, good. Ah!" Harry was very close to coming, but he wanted Snape to come first -- habits of sex with Ginny -- and he had to focus. He pulled on Snape's cock, which took concentration, but it was also exciting. Leaning forward, he licked Snape's shoulder. Snape kept groaning, and his limbs trembled, and then his prick began to spurt in Harry's hand.

Harry gave two more hard thrusts and on the third groaned in his throat and came. He slumped over Snape's body, mouth too slack to kiss the skin his lips were touching. He breathed against Snape's shoulder.

Snape was also breathing hard, and flushed in the face. He looked embarrassed. He pulled Harry out slowly, and grabbed his wand from where they'd left it. "Have to clean up," he said, and cast something wordless.

Then he sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, still naked. Harry sat up too and put on his glasses. Snape's chest hair had gray in it, and the back of his neck had faint, barely visible lines. Harry put his arms around Snape from behind.

Snape cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"

"I want to hold on to you."

"I'm not your wife."

"She has nothing to do with this."

"For your sake I hope she would agree." Snape shivered as Harry's tongue slid along the crease where his neck met his back. "Harry. What do you think this changes?"

"Everything." Harry settled his face rest in the curve between Snape's neck and shoulder. "You're alive. You just let me..."

"Perhaps I intend never to see you again."

Harry's fingers scraped against Snape's chest as his arms tightened. "Even then. You hadn't seen me for twenty years and you kissed me and took me to bed. I may not know why you did it but you can't tell me it doesn't mean anything."

The muscles beneath his chin had relaxed. Snape was not resisting him, not physically at least. Harry kissed the side of his throat up to his ear. It was too soon for his body to be ready but for the first time in longer than he could remember, he wanted to make love again right away.

"Why did you want to shout at me?"

"What?" Snape's voice was low and languorous.

"You said you expected me to be angry and we'd have a shouting match and you would go away again. You didn't need to speak to me at all."

"Curiosity, I suppose." Snape shivered again as Harry bit down on his throat, forgetting, for an instant, the scars from the snake. He licked and kissed the spot.

"Was kissing me curiosity too?"

"Oh, Potter, just leave it," Snape answered low enough to be talking to himself. "You're young enough to be my son. You could have been my son." He put his head in his hands. "This is so perverse."

"But -- aren't you -- don't you like men?"

"She was my only true friend. No one else ever said, 'You're my best friend.' She had so much magic and she was so beautiful. I've never loved anyone else. I don't -- do this."

"What?"

"This kissing and cuddling -- it's not something men generally do."

"Do you dislike it?"

Snape looked at Harry's knee. "No. I like it," he admitted.

"Can I tell you again?"

Snape looked up into Harry's face again. "Tell me."

Harry took a breath so that he wouldn't sound so foolish, this time. "When I saw your memories in the Pensieve, I realized how brave and good you were, and I loved you. I wished that you were still alive, so that I could love you, could give you something back --"

"You're not Lily."

"I know," Harry began to say, but Snape had turned and was kissing him.

Smiling, as much as his mouth would allow while it was kissing back, Harry let himself be borne down onto the bed again. It was Snape who had initiated the kissing all along.

"Where were you planning to go after tonight?" he asked during one of the moments when they came up for air. Snape was rocking against him, but he wasn't hard, and Harry knew that at Snape's age it might be quite a while before he was again. "Do you have a house somewhere? They cleaned out the one at Spinner's End...you know that. I have a few of your books."

"You always were sentimental."

"I'm not the one who was snooping around checking up on people." They kissed again with the rising heat of the quarrel. "Come back," Harry whispered. "You're the only one who... Come back into the world with me."

"No." Snape said. "We could never live together. We don't get on. I wouldn't be able to stand the kind of fame you've had all these years."

"That's what magic is for," Harry said. "Coping with fame, I mean. You can hide using--"

"Magic doesn't enable people who are habitually at odds to get along. Haven't you noticed that?"

Snape's harsh words were at odds with the gentle touch of his hands in Harry's hair.

Snape was quiet for a moment. "And your children. Do you want to break up your marriage to their mother in order to go after a churlish man twenty years your senior, to go on the run?"

Harry feared he might weep again. "I -- Severus --"

"Your fantasy came true. I came back from the dead, but I can't stay. I can't let you enslave me any longer, and I can't make another mistake that ruins your life."

"I have left my wife, though. She's back in London and I'm here for the year, and we haven't been sleeping together." His heart beat hard; it was painful to admit it out loud. "I don't know what I'm going to do now. I needed to be at Hogwarts, near my children."

Snape's expression was impenetrable. Harry shook his head.

"Will you stay the night here with me?" Harry asked him.

"I've never shared my bed."

"It's all right, I don't snore too badly. It's much warmer this way."

Snape nodded. His Adam's apple moved against Harry's face where he was pressed against Snape's throat.

"I didn't mean come back just for me," Harry added after a few minutes, listening to Snape's pulse and feeling his chest rise and fall. "There must be other people you knew once who you've wanted to see."

"I have seen them." Harry's head popped up, looking at him. He felt an absurd sense of betrayal, not only from Snape, if one of the others had known where Snape was and hadn't told him. Snape glanced at him seeing Harry's anger. "I didn't talk to anyone, I saw them. You wouldn't have wanted a message from anyone else."

Oh, so Snape had been keeping an eye on people from the other side as well. That wasn't altogether surprising. "Malfoy."

"I have seen Malfoy. I have no particular wish to speak to him. You insisted that his father should be spared."

The words contained an accusation. Harry wasn't sure why. "His father could have run away at the end but didn't. The only thing he wanted was to find Draco safe. You know why I did it -- you told Dumbledore to save my father and me with my mother."

Snape made a small uncomfortable noise. "You know why I did that. It was for Lily, not for you. I'm still the same man you despised."

"The man I hated wouldn't have kissed me or told me he couldn't make a mistake that would ruin my life."

"What do you know," Snape muttered. "I'm not promising to stay. I probably snore, myself."

"That's all right," Harry said. He yawned. "I usually don't sleep very well. I like to hear other people sleeping, so I know they're safe."

Snape stroked his hair away from his forehead.

"I do that for my son," Harry said, "when he has trouble sleeping."

"Your face is like hers, even with your eyes shut," Snape whispered. He said something else, too, something important, but Harry was too relaxed to respond or remember it after a minute.

Though it seemed he hadn't felt this way in a very long time, maybe not since he was a baby, Harry was aware that someone watched over him, and would take care of things, if he slept.

Not Alone

Harry had long since removed the specific anti-Snape charms from Sirius' old house in Grimmauld Place, and Sirius' mother's portrait was gone, too. The only sounds he heard coming into his London house were his own footsteps and the closing of his front door.

He was tired. He never got used to the house being quiet. Usually he and Ginny and the children spent a lot of time in the Burrow in the summers, and at the seaside, but this year he didn't feel comfortable being there with her. He had been surprised that it was Arthur rather than Molly who had urged them to hold off on finalizing their divorce, but there it was. They were officially separated and Harry didn't belong at the Weasleys' home for a long visit with Ginny anymore.

Now that he was teaching Defence at Hogwarts instead of working in the Auror department, there wasn't much to do in the summer. He'd seen Teddy at his grandmother's, and Ron and Hermione had invited him to dinner before they went on holiday in France, but this week he was completely on his own.

It was like an addiction, but he wanted to look into Snape's memories in the Pensieve again. He had one in the room Ginny called his study. For years he had looked at them when he was low, just to see his mother when she was a little girl. His Evans grandparents had passed away, and his Aunt Petunia refused to show him photographs of his mother as a child. These were the only images he had. First he would look at his wizarding photo album, at all the photographs he'd managed to collect. Then he'd watch these memories. It was a weird kind of self-punishment, seeing his revered Albus Dumbledore condemn him to death again and again and listening to Snape defending him.

Snape, who was still alive, and whom Harry loved with stupid admiration. Shit, the man knew how to fly without a broom, how could Harry not admire that? If Snape were only there--he would be making Harry miserable.

Harry, never a heavy drinker, decided that a glass of Firewhiskey would take the edge off his longing. Sitting in the red leather chair in the study, he turned the memory in its bottle in his hands, just considering pouring it into the Pensieve. It made him feel a bit disloyal to Sirius -- Snape and Sirius had hated each other, yet here Harry was in Sirius's house. Sirius had suffered for just as long as Snape after the night when Lily and James died, and had to be exonerated afterward by Harry's words, too.

There was no one from that generation to whom Harry could speak, not about things like what had happened to him and Ginny or how he felt about Snape. Sirius was gone. Lupin was gone. The Weasleys cared about him, but Ginny was their daughter and they were still very protective of her, even though she felt more strongly than Harry that the marriage they had both once wanted was only stifling them both now. Harry remembered how desperately Lupin had wanted to be free from Tonks, and how he had seemed to change his mind. What had happened? If only there was some way to ask.

The Pensieve could not tell him what Lupin had been thinking, but it could show him the boy he had been, and Sirius and James and Lily and Snape, who had loved her. He drained the glass of whiskey and poured another, then held the bottle to catch the light, watching the misty memories swirl inside.

A knock at the front door disturbed him. Who could it be, at this hour and with most of his friends away? Maybe Luna had drifted back to London with some new, exotic specimen; she had a habit of turning up at unexpected moments and then disappearing again.

Harry left the bottle with the memories and went to open the door. Well-wishers and celebrity hunters had long since stopped trying to find him, although he was still widely greeted at Quidditch matches and Ministry events. Since rumors had begun to circulate that he and Ginny had separated, women in particular had sought him out, but he hadn't felt much like widening his circle of friends.

The dark shape in the doorway made his chest lurch. "Severus!"

"I hope you have a proper ward on this door, Potter, if you are in the habit of opening it without knowing who is outside."

"There still aren't very many people who can see the house. Anyway, the children aren't home."

"Ah, so you are prepared for whatever former criminal you've arrested might come to the door, just so long as it's you by yourself."

"Will you come into the house and stop standing in the entryway," Harry snapped. Snape looked pleased with himself.

"I don't want to impose," Snape said silkily.

"You know that I've been looking for you." Harry pulled Snape toward him by the elbow. "You disappeared."

"Potter," Snape said, "I don't owe you."

"Own me?"

"Not own, owe."

Harry was a little off balance. "I don't -- of course you don't owe me. What are you talking about? I wanted -- You're smirking. You --"

"You really can't hold your liquor."

"I don't usually -- Merlin, I didn't offer you anything. Can I get you a drink? Firewhiskey? Or tea, I could make a cup of tea."

"Sit. I'll make it." Snape swept toward the kitchen as though the house were still the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and he were still a member. Harry followed meekly, sinking into a chair as Snape aimed his wand and the stovetop flared to life. "You should have gingko...ginger at the very least."

"I haven't drunk that much." Snape was rifling through the pantry like it was his own. Why did he like it when he made Harry snap at him? "Stop it, I'll get the..."

"Potter, have you had a proper meal all week?" A package of stale biscuits flew toward the rubbish bin, followed by a box of sweetened cereal that the children liked. Harry rose to object, though really he had no reason to save food that he wasn't going to eat. Snape found the tea and spooned it into a mesh ball. He glared at the cups piled in the sink before taking down clean ones.

"Stop it," Harry said, reaching past him to refill the sugar bowl. His hand stretched beneath Snape's arm. Without quite meaning to he wrapped his arms around Snape's chest, pressing his face into the back of Snape's neck.

"Ginger," Snape muttered again. He resisted at first when Harry tried to turn him around, but Harry had the advantage of the stove blocking any escape. "Potter."

"I'm not drunk," Harry insisted. Snape made a nervous, batlike move with his arms, but he returned Harry's kiss with just as much hunger as Harry remembered. Their legs tangled and Harry stumbled, very nearly knocking Snape into the stove.

"This is not what I had in mind when I came here."

"Then we won't have tea." Harry nuzzled Snape's cheek, which smelled of aftershave but was slightly stubbly.

"Are you this desperate?" Snape's voice was just above a whisper.

"Yes, yes," Harry said, "you're only going to leave again. Your memories aren't the same." Snape kissed him then, wrapping his arms around Harry's body, until Harry was quite dizzy with it. He came up for air and opened his eyes.

Snape was frowning. "Wait. You mean you were were going to look at my memories?"

"I'm -- I'm sorry. I don't have many pictures of my mum. Do you want them back?"

Snape seemed to struggle with his answer, and then said nothing.

"How does that work? Can you actually not remember the things in those memories, once you've given them away? That's why you took out memories when you taught me Occlumency, right?"

Letting go of him, Snape turned and poured the tea. He blew on the steam rising from his cup, reminding Harry of the mist in the bottle. "If you have a Pensieve, haven't you ever used it for its intended purpose? Not snooping around in someone else's memories but trying to take an objective look at your own?"

Blushing, Harry shook his head. He took a cup from Snape and sat down at the table. "I never learned to use it properly," he admitted. "I don't know how I would pick out what I needed to see." In dreams he still relived the green flash in the Forbidden Forest and the look on Sirius' face as he fell through the Veil. And Dumbledore falling down, down, like a discarded puppet. "You do remember the things you let me see about my mum, right?"

"Memories are not isolated events, as you know," Snape began. "One triggers another. Or an image, a word..."

"You always saw my dad when you looked at me," Harry nodded.

"Let me finish. In the Pensieve you witnessed my memories as isolated moments. The whole is greater than the parts you have seen."

Harry pushed aside his tea. "I know I don't know all of you," he said. "And you think I idealize you based on just a few memories."

"You don't know everything I knew about your mother, either," Snape said. It felt like a punch in his stomach. Harry just sat, feeling a million miles away from him and everyone, the aftereffects of the three drinks he'd had like a cushion all around him, his ears ringing.

Then Snape sat down in the chair next to his and put a hand on his shoulder. It was such a strange thing, that Snape could be kind to him, that Snape was alive and being kind to him.

"You are pathetic," Snape said, but he was brushing the hair back from Harry's face with his hand. "You can't have that quantity of spirits on an empty stomach and not become intoxicated. Now you're crying again."

"Of course I'm crying," Harry said irritably. "My marriage is breaking up, I'm lonely without my children, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life, and I'm fixated on you. Every night since you disappeared on me again, I lie down and wank, imagining that you're fucking me. Now you show up and remind me what an impossible git you are, and I remember that it's all my bloody imagination."

Snape's nose had gone all red. "Stop embarrassing yourself, Potter." He leaned forward so that his too-long hair hung in front of his face.

"I'm not embarrassed. I'm angry, and sad, but not embarrassed." Grabbing a napkin, Harry wiped his eyes and nose. "Why did you come here? Do you want to fuck me?" Reaching out, he pushed Snape's hair back much as Snape had done for him. "If you don't want the crying and hugging, why don't you just fuck me?"

"I told you. I don't owe you." Snape's lips were pressed together in a tight dark line.

"Right. Then what are you afraid of?" Shoving the cups away, Harry leaned over to kiss Snape. "You're the one who kept doing this." He could feel Snape's mouth softening under his, the lips parting as if unwilling, kissing back. "Come upstairs."

"Not when you're drunk."

"When I'm drunk is perfect. When I say I love you, you can tell me it's the whiskey talking." The kisses between sentences were becoming wetter and lasting longer. "Upstairs. Please."

Harry stood up, but Snape stayed seated, looking at him. "Every night you lie down and wank?" he asked.

"I don't have to do it in the shower, because I'm alone, so yes, I lie down." He reached for Snape, who allowed Harry to kiss him, sinking into his lap to do so. He could feel Snape's erection through Snape's robes.

"At least order some take-away so we can eat afterward," Snape said. Harry let his hand fall into Snape's lap and began to stroke him through his clothes. They kissed again.

"I can owl for it after," Harry said. "They deliver by Floo, so it's fast. Can we just do it right here on the table?"

Snape groaned. "I have to show you how to use the Pensieve."

"We can do that afterward. I want you to fuck me now, on the table."

Snape breathed through his nose, eyes shut, and then gave a tight nod and stood up. Harry put his arms around Snape's shoulders and stood too, back against the table. "You're mad," Snape told him.

"You'll just have to put up with it -- along for the ride," Harry said, and grinned. Snape licked his exposed teeth. All the blood rushed to Harry's groin. They kissed, and Snape pushed up Harry's t-shirt to play with a nipple. Harry turned around and ground his arse into Snape's erection. "Yes," he hissed, "bend me over the table and take me."

It had been a very long time since Harry had attempted to use the kitchen table for any sort of erotic activity. In the end he and Ginny rarely even kissed in the kitchen unless one of them was about to leave the house. This was because, as Harry remembered now, the table was not at all a comfortable place for lovemaking. Pushing the salt and pepper out of the way made everything feel mundane, not sexy.

The kitchen was not a good place for intimacy, either. Snape unbuttoned and unfastened only the precise amount of clothing necessary to withdraw his prick. Harry was still trying to remove his own clothing. His pants had caught around his ankles and he wasn't in a good position to kick off his slippers so they could slide to the floor. He managed to free one leg so that Snape could part the cheeks of his arse.

Snape was very hard, sliding his cock against Harry's body. Harry braced himself. He had no idea what it would be like, but he thought it would be good. Instead, Snape cast a spell and slid his fingers into Harry one at a time. It was good that he knew what he was doing, because Harry was tight and it would have hurt. It did hurt, a little, anyway, but Harry was so excited that he didn't care.

Finally, leaning over the hard surface of the table, Harry felt the blunt head of Snape's prick nudge him and push into him. He grabbed the table. It was not comfortable. He had to keep turning his head in an awkward way to kiss. Snape started slow, but as Harry adjusted to the feeling and began groaning with pleasure, he thrust harder. He was excited, panting a little, and rough.

"You wanted it like this?" grunted Snape, thrusting mercilessly, one hand wrapped around Harry's prick and the other digging into his hip.

"I wanted it," Harry panted back. His hip was going to be sore, and maybe his neck too, from the position he had to bend it to kiss Snape. "Next time, bed."

"Next time," Snape said. "Greedy."

Greedy, yes, God, his body was greedy. He was sweating from the wool of Snape's robes and his hot grip on Harry's hipbone and the hard slickened surface of the table. It hurt a little, too, being banged into the table, but -- oh God, that was -- he shivered all over and felt himself coming into the tight grip of Snape's fingers. Snape let go of Harry's prick after a minute but kept fucking him a little longer, drawing out the orgasm until Snape made a sound in his throat and came too.

Snape's heart was pounding in his chest, hard enough for Harry to feel it through Snape's ribcage and his robes. Or maybe it was Harry's heart. They were tangled and sweaty. Snape pulled out of him.

"You haven't done this at all since we last did," he accused, pulling Harry upright so quickly that the room spun. Then he had no choice but to catch and hold Harry when his knees buckled. Quickly he lowered Harry into a chair. "Head down. Breathe."

Harry's glasses slid down his nose as he lowered his face onto his arms. He thought he might need to be sick, but if he was sick then Snape would be disgusted, so he sat very still and breathed until he felt it was safe to look up. Snape's brows were lowered and his mouth looked pinched as he pushed Harry's teacup toward him.

"Haven't done what? Sex?" Harry asked in a voice that didn't quite sound like his own. "I told you. Every night I think of you."

Snape picked up his wand and cast a spell to heat the tea. "Drink. Haven't you ever had sex without..." Snape looked sorry he had begun to ask the question. "You married so young," he muttered.

"No, I haven't ever had sex without thinking I was in love or in a relationship or whatever you were going to say. And I really doubt you're the best person to be giving me advice about sex anyway." The tea needed sugar. A lot of sugar. Harry closed his eyes to concentrate on the Accio, then realized that Snape was spooning it into the cup for him.

"I wasn't giving advice. You are the one who said 'next time.'"

Harry drank some of the tea. He felt better. He probably wasn't eating enough--stupid. "I don't want to have a big argument about sexual ethics, Severus."

"I don't know why you think I care about that."

"Oh, please," Harry said under his breath.

"What?"

"You care about doing the right thing in exactly the right way. That's why you've never loved anyone but my mother. You believe in suffering, not pleasure." Harry rubbed his forehead.

"Does the scar hurt?"

"Not since he died. It's just a habit. Let me put my clothes on so that we can get some take-away." Harry got up; he wasn't dizzy. It was strange to be naked in his kitchen. He put the salt and pepper back on the table and pulled his clothing back on. "Do you like South Indian food? We can get really great masala dosai through the Floo."

"That will be fine, thank you." Snape looked apprehensive. Harry thought the politeness sounded strange coming from his mouth.

Harry found the menu and scrawled out their order. He had a new barn owl, Betty, who came when he whistled. "Take this to Govinda's," he told her. "There's a good girl."

He yawned. Snape stood there awkwardly. "Have a seat," Harry said after several long moments when it became obvious that Snape would not do so on his own.

"You seem tired," Snape told him. "Perhaps I should go."

"You must be joking," Harry said. "You just got here. I'm inviting you to dinner."

The Floo flared; a hand emerged and put a take-away bag on the floor. Harry had to get up to fish some Galleons out of the tin behind the cookbooks that Ginny had not bothered to take with her. He pressed a hand on Snape's shoulder, trying to steer him into a chair as he counted coins to pay for the food.

"Open it," he suggested to Snape, hoping that the smell of masala and biryani spices would convince him to sit.

Snape put the containers on the table and glanced at the cabinet as if removing dishes might constitute either a violation of Harry's privacy or some sort of romantic commitment. Impatiently Harry grabbed them, then pulled forks and spoons from a drawer and sat down -- Ginny had the flatware, so he had only the silver that had belonged to the Blacks.

"Pass that over," he said. He pulled out one of the dosa, which were magically wrapped so that the delicate pancake wouldn't break. Now that he could smell the sambhar and the other spices, he was very hungry. "I always make a mess with these...I get the coconut chutney all over the table."

Finally Snape sat, still looking discomfited. Harry grinned widely around a mouthful of dosa. "Our first dinner date."

"Was it absolutely necessary to say that?" Unexpectedly Snape smirked. He reached for the container of vegetable biryani. "Teaching you Occlumency was doomed from the start."

"I like you when you don't Occlude," Harry said. "You have to try the dosa--they make them really light and crispy. It's just spicy potatoes inside."

Snape took his wrapped pancake from Harry and put it on the plate. "What do you mean, you like me when--"

"Your eyes get cold and hard when you Occlude. Your expression, I mean. Here, have a container of sambhar."

Snape sniffed it. "Is there courgette in this?"

"Probably. Don't you like it?"

"It's all right." He spooned some out and looked at it. "Your mother couldn't bear courgettes. Your grandparents raised them in their garden."

Harry put down his fork. "I didn't know that."

"Is that something you always wanted to know?"

Harry nodded. "I wish that I had known all of those everyday things."

Snape choked a little. His face went red. Harry jumped up. "Severus!"

"Chili," Snape gasped. Harry conjured a glass of water. "Not water, Potter, bread," Snape managed. Harry grabbed a foil-wrapped package of naan and tore off a piece and fed it to him.

"All right?" Harry asked, watching Snape swallow. He took a sip of water too.

"Don't stand over me, it's just a pepper," Snape said.

Harry leaned down and kissed him. "Hmm, spicy lips," he said. He dropped into the chair next to him and kissed him again.

"You're mad," Snape said. "Unhinged." He was blushing.

"You've said that before. Didn't stop you from coming here tonight."

Snape kissed back the way he always did, as if he couldn't help himself, even though he had crumbs in the corner of his lips. "Stop it," he ordered. "You need to eat." He was kissing Harry again as he thrust the sambhar toward him. "Finish."

"Will you come upstairs if I do?"

"Are you resorting to bribes now?"

Harry had vegetables on his fork. He put them in his mouth, chewed, swallowed and kissed Snape before the taste had faded. "If bribes work. Tell me something else about my mother."

"She was skilled at levitation charms. Before she knew she was a witch, she enjoyed ice skating. Potter, you don't need to offer me sex in exchange for stories about your mother."

Harry started to laugh. He took a sip of tea. "Hadn't thought of that."

"Well, I had." Snape took a careful bite of his food. "You looked at my memories in the Pensieve repeatedly over twenty years in order to see your mother, and became infatuated with me. I think you're just looking for a family, as you always were."

"You always seemed to know how to wound me in the most precise way," Harry said. "Insulting my father, whom I had never known, played to my worst fears. Calling me arrogant--I felt so responsible for other people when I was too young to take responsibility, and it did feel arrogant. I have always wanted a family of my own. I thought I had made one."

"I can't be that to you," Snape said. "Whether I want to or not, I can't."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Harry said. "It's too late anyway, because I'm an adult."

Snape reached across the table and, with a pointed look, wiped some food off Harry's face with a napkin.

"Whether you want to or not?" Harry asked him. "You have noticed that the war is over? And everyone thinks you're dead. And there's a statue of you in the Ministry along with me and Neville and everyone else who helped defeat Voldemort."

"That doesn't change..."

"Of course it does! It's been twenty years. Is this actually the life you want, sneaking in and out of London and Hogsmeade, making sure you're not seen by anyone but me? You can be -- all right, not whatever you want, but you could have this. We could have this."

"This is a fantasy." Abruptly Snape pushed his chair back, scraping the legs against the floor. He gestured at the remains of the food. Harry noticed that he had indeed got chutney on the table. "This is not a dinner date."

"Call it what you like, then. We had sex and you're eating my food. I'm not a child and you aren't young -- did you think I hadn't noticed? I know your hair is turning gray. I remember every cruel thing you ever said to me."

"And you love me for that."

Harry nodded.

"Why? I don't understand you, Potter." He paced the kitchen. "You have a pretty young wife and beautiful children. If you find you don't like women, you could have a pretty young boyfriend, someone who is good at this--" He waved his hand.

"I was free to love or hate you as much as I wanted while you were dead. I mean, when I thought you were dead. I saw who you were, in those memories. You are so fucking brave, so fucking good--and you know me. You can cut me to the quick, or make me feel--everything--with a touch--"

Snape stood still, just looking at him.

"But if you don't want me, I'm sure I'll live," Harry said.

"Don't want you--" Snape repeated. "Do you think I'm mad, of course I want you."

Harry stepped around his chair and put his arms around him. "Come upstairs. Please."

"Aren't you sore?"

"Maybe a bit. I don't care. We don't have to do it right away. Or -- do you know a spell?"

Snape's body had molded itself to his. They didn't fit together the same way Harry had with Ginny -- Snape was taller and most of his softness was in his belly.

"We can just do this," Harry said.

"No. You need practice being on top."

Harry had to fight off a fit of the giggles. "Oh yes, I must practice! What was I thinking!"

"Are you mocking me?" Snape said. He was deadly serious.

"No, I'm teasing you," Harry said. "Lovers do that, you know. And friends, and people who like each other."

"I suppose I've put up with worse."

Harry made a face. "Thanks."

Deliberately, Snape bent slightly and kissed Harry, eyes open. "Let's practice," he said in a low voice.

Grabbing Snape's hand, Harry tugged him toward the door out of the kitchen. He half-expected to be lectured on leaving the dirty dishes where they were, but Snape followed him without a word. Harry hoped that he had made up the bed -- he didn't always bother, now that he lived alone -- but then he thought that maybe Snape would like that mussed too, to see where Harry lay and thought about him every night.

Snape paused at the spot where Sirius's mother's photo had once screamed at blood traitors and filth. Now the spot was covered with a banner from the Quidditch World Cup four years previously, where Harry had traveled with Lily, who could already handle a broom as well as her older brother.

"You've redecorated."

Harry gave an exaggerated shudder. "You can't think I'd have left the stuffed elves and the pureblood portraits. We moved Lily into Regulus's room and Albus into Sirius's."

Turning, he pressed Snape against the balcony halfway up the stairs and kissed him. "Impatient as well as greedy," Snape murmured.

"If you'd turn up a bit more often, I wouldn't need to be impatient."

"I wasn't complaining." That low, confiding tone was like liquid heat. It felt adult, insinuating.

"You're good at this," Harry said, "so good." He felt drunk again. Snape was caressing Harry's arse, just feeling the curve of it, pulling him in tighter and closer.

"All the way to the bedroom, this time," Snape said.

Though Harry did not want to move, he forced himself to take Snape's wrist and tug him the rest of the way upstairs. He wondered whether Snape had bothered to search Sirius's mother's room -- which was now Harry's room -- the last time he had been in this house on Voldemort's orders. He wondered if it was as strange for Snape to be in this house as it had been for Harry when he first started turning it into his home.

"You're quiet. Don't think too much," Snape said.

"I thought you thought I talked too much." They had reached the bedroom. Snape's eyes were only on Harry. "I want to make love in my bed. I want you to put..."

"You do talk too much," Snape growled, kissing him again, pressing him back against the wall. It felt good to be kissing someone taller, someone whose uneven teeth scraped against his own. Again Harry thought that Snape wasn't a very good kisser but this was better than anything careful and seductive -- that wouldn't have been Snape.

They made it into the bedroom, finally, Harry fumbling with Snape's clothing. Snape took off his own clothes and waited for Harry to do the same.

"I wanted to undress you," Harry said.

Snape made a face. "I can take off my own clothing."

"I just want to touch you more."

Snape didn't reply. Harry got onto the bed and tried to look inviting. Snape joined him, his movements uncharacteristically awkward. They rolled toward each other and started kissing again. Snape ran his hands over Harry's body, just touching. Chills ran over Harry's skin where Snape's thumbnails skated over his nipple, the skin on the inside of his wrist, his lower back.

Harry tried to do the same, but Snape stiffened. Harry reached for the muscles in Snape's back, and tried to knead out the kinks near his spine.

"This isn't sex," Snape said quietly.

Harry shrugged. "It's getting there." He let his hand slide down to the same hollow place above the buttocks where Snape's touch had aroused him. Snape drew in a breath and his cock hardened against Harry's thigh. Harry stroked down the spine between the buttocks, trying to go slow as Snape had done. He listened to the older man's breathing and kissed along his neck.

"We need a spell," Snape said.

"Not yet. I want to put my mouth there." Harry moved as he spoke, kissing his way down Snape's chest even though he still felt tense. Snape's cock smelled a bit funny and he guessed that it was because it had been in his own arse, even though he'd thought Snape had cleaned up while he was dressing. He kissed the side of it.

"If you really want to do that, you will certainly want a spell." Snape sounded breathless. At least he wasn't saying no.

"Like Scourgify?"

"Something that disinfects and lubricates at the same time would be preferable. Didn't anyone ever teach you Demadesco?"

"I put too much energy into Defence to pay attention in Sex Spell class."

Snape made a sound that was close to a guffaw. Harry grinned helplessly. "Show me the spell, Severus," he said. Snape put his hand over Harry's on his wand and did the motion toward Harry's body. Then Harry tried it. "Well, now we're both clean," he said, "so let's take advantage." He flipped so that they were head to foot and took Snape's cock into his mouth.

Snape rolled so that he was under Harry, and they began to explore each other with lips and tongues and fingers. Snape pulled Harry's balls into his mouth one at a time, and then licked his perineum. Harry tried everything Snape did, like a mirror. He sucked Snape's cock while he pulled his arse apart, and then he licked between the cheeks, finding what felt good on Snape as Snape found the same on him.

It went on and on, until he was fucking Snape's mouth, trying not to go too deep, and moving his fingers in and out of Snape's arse. Each time he touched a sensitive place inside Snape, the other man groaned around his cock.

Snape released him. "Now, do it," he said. "Fuck me." He turned over onto his belly and Harry got behind him. It was easy, this time, to sink into Snape's body; he was open and full of lube. The muscles of his arse were round against Harry's thighs and belly, and Harry's balls slapped against his legs.

Snape humped the mattress, pushing back against Harry's thrusts. It was sinuous, rolling motion. The sound of Snape's deep grunts was punctuated by the slap of Harry's body against his.

Harry could feel Snape's entire body shuddering beneath him as he came, the muscles in his arse rippling involuntarily around Harry's cock. Harry cried out when he followed a moment later.

"Next time I want to do it face to face," he told Snape when he had caught his breath. Snape was sweaty beneath him, hair sticking to his back. With one hand Harry brushed it to the side and rubbed his face on the exposed skin.

"Next time. Were you thinking about next time before we'd finished this time?"

"No...wasn't thinking at all." Slowly Harry pulled out and attempted to shift his weight lower on Snape's back so as not to crush him on the mattress. He knew it must be sticky under Snape but he didn't want to move further apart yet. "Didn't we agree I needed practice?"

Snape let out another snorting laugh. "I'm retired from teaching. I don't understand why you don't want to practice with someone else."

Harry slid off the wet skin and raised his head on an elbow. Beside him Snape turned so that he was no longer lying in the wide wet spot on the bed. Curiously Harry slid a finger over it and licked the fingertip.

"You don't listen to me. I already told you. I love you. I want to do it with you." Harry paused, trying to formulate something difficult. "I'm not trying to demand that you stop doing it with other people."

"You're not in a position to make such a demand," Snape said gruffly, then, "I can't be your lover. I've never done that."

"You could practice," Harry said hopefully.

"No." Snape's face was miserable. "I won't become a party to your dissolving marriage. I can't play house with you."

"I don't want you to play house with me, Severus. I haven't even told anyone that you're alive." Harry tried to sound rational. "My marriage is dissolving with or without you. If you want me, you can have me. I don't want anyone else."

They got up and Snape cast Scourgify on the bed. Harry handed him a towel and they went into the bathroom. Without discussion, Harry turned on the shower and beckoned Snape to join him.

Whatever he said, Snape couldn't keep his hands off of Harry, even post-coitally. He soaped Harry's body and shampooed his hair, and they stood together, embracing in the spray. Afterward Snape licked the water from Harry's shoulder as they were towelling dry.

"This is not a good idea," Snape said. Harry ignored it. Naked and clean, they lay together on Harry's bed. Snape wrapped his long arms around Harry's body and held him close.

"Are you going to stop saying things like that eventually?" Harry asked.

"Will it make you change your mind?" muttered Snape.

"About wanting you? Not a chance," said Harry agreeably. He was pleasantly tired and relaxed. He lay comfortably against Snape, listening to his breathing, until he realized that Snape had fallen asleep in his bed.

Not Telling

"You owe me this much," Harry said.

"We already agreed that I owed you nothing. Weeks ago."

"Fine, not me, then -- you owe it to him. I named him after you."

"I hardly think that you can blame me for..."

"He's my son, Severus. I need you to meet him. You taught at Hogwarts for how many years? You can manage a conversation with one child."

"You have three."

"Albus first. If I brought Lily, she would talk and talk and then you wouldn't get to know him. Besides, I already told Al there was someone I wanted him to meet." Harry smiled, far too private a smile for such a public place. "Stay and I promise I'll make it worth your while later."

Severus made a strangled sound in his throat. "Potter, I do not--there is no quid pro quo in this relationsh---I do not prostitute myself, or you."

"Good," Harry said. His eyes were positively twinkling, which gave Severus uncomfortable pause. "Thank you."

Had he just agreed to meet the boy? As though he hadn't observed him hundreds of times. Potter didn't know that, though.

Albus wasn't a bad fellow, as little boys went. Only a person who had had a truly dreadful childhood would want to avoid meeting him. The fact that Severus had taught school for a decade and a half didn't stop him from wishing he could avoid all contact with children.

His father brought young Albus into the sandwich shop with a hand on his shoulder, as though steering him. Harry was the sort of parent who presented his offspring with the air of having won an argument, as though he were saying, "See, I told you he was wonderful."

"Al, this is Severus Snape. Professor Snape, this is Albus Severus Potter."

"How do you do," the boy said, his voice still soprano and his eyes large in his head.

"Very well, thank you, how are you," Severus responded automatically.

"I'm glad you aren't dead after all," the boy said. They looked at each other. Astonishingly, the boy smiled at him.

He had thought that Albus looked very much like his father, who in turn looked like his own, yet the smile reminded Severus less of Harry than of the Weasleys. "Why are you glad?" Severus asked with a glance at Harry, wondering what absurd legends about Snape's bravery the boy had been told before Harry learned the martyr had not died.

"Because my dad is happy," Albus said.

Behind him, Harry blushed. "I'll just go get the food, shall I?" Without waiting for a reply, he was off, leaving Snape alone with the child.

"Did you like being in Slytherin House?" Albus asked him.

Amusement tugged at Snape's lips. Gryffindors apparently still whispered stories to first-years about dungeons with shackles and half-rotted skeletons in the common room. "The Slytherin dormitories are under the lake," he said. "Have you ever seen moonlight through an underwater window?"

"No," the boy replied. His mouth opened as though he would rephrase the question. Severus was prepared to give a testy answer about having been proud to be sorted into Slytherin, thinking that the son was like his father after all, when Albus said, "It must have hurt when that snake bit you."

"Not as much as getting hit in the face with a Bludger. Your parents did warn you?" Severus was smirking now, while Albus looked as if he didn't know whether to smile or object to being teased.

"Mum loves Quidditch too much to worry about things like that. And Dad wouldn't say anything that might make him sound like my grandmother."

Harry had returned, balancing three sandwiches and drinks in his arms like a Muggle waiter. He did not resemble Molly Weasley in the least except in the protective glance he cast at his child. Watching Harry push aside the salt shaker to set the food on the table, Severus felt a faint tightness in his groin.

Albus was also looking at his father; Severus caught a fleeting sad expression as it crossed his face. Divorce couldn't be easy on children, no matter how optimistic a face Potter tried to put on it.

"How's your mother?" Harry asked, failing to sound easygoing.

"She's all right," Albus said. He looked faintly miserable. "She goes out a lot."

"Well, you're all big enough to look after yourselves, of course."

"Yeah." The boy took a bite of his sandwich. His table manners were better than his father's. Funny how having enough to eat did that for you. He put the sandwich down. "Dad, are you both going to get married again to other people?"

Severus folded in on himself. This was not a conversation he wanted to hear. He began to clear his mind as though he had to block Legilimency.

"I think this is a discussion we should have when we aren't with Professor Snape," Harry responded.

"Because Mummy has a boyfriend."

Harry was sitting directly across from Severus, so Severus couldn't help but see his expression. There might have been faint regret, but the way Harry sighed very softly and dropped his shoulders looked more relieved than despairing. Meanwhile the boy had gone back to eating, apparently more at ease now that he'd got that news out of the way.

"We'll talk about this later, all right?" Harry asked his son.

Albus nodded. "James says he doesn't mind, but if she gets married again and you don't, Lily and I want to stay with you all summer."

Harry had brought Severus some kind of fizzy juice drink. He sipped it slowly, feeling the bubbles pop over his tongue while Harry replied, "Summer is a long time away. You'll see me at school. We don't need to work this out right now."

"Are you coming back to Hogwarts, too, Professor?" Albus looked directly at Severus as he asked the question. He had to clear his throat against the residue of the fizzy drink, which gave him time enough to see Harry duck his head to hide his smile.

"I am retired from teaching," Severus said shortly.

"They only hire dead professors if they happen to be ghosts," Harry added, and laughed. Albus looked at him, at his father grinning, and smiled.

"But you're not--" Albus cut himself off. "Oh, so they don't know you're back, right?" He looked at Severus, and then back to Harry. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Harry said. He looked at Severus. "Maybe. Are you all right?"

Severus stopped Occluding. Albus relaxed visibly. He grinned. He looked like a dark haired Charlie Weasley, not like James or Lily. He was a different person. Albus laughed.

"Are you laughing at me?" Severus asked quietly.

"You look funny when you pull that face," Albus said.

"That face used to scare me witless," Harry said. But Albus was smiling at him the way that his grandmother (grandmother!) used to when they were children--like he didn't believe that Severus was really angry when he scowled. It was a certain kind of magic that she had.

"Are you a good Potions student?" Severus asked Albus.

"Not bad, I guess. I don't like it as much as Transfiguration. Teddy says maybe I could be an Animagus if..."

"Only the very finest wizards in all subjects are allowed to attempt the transformation," interrupted Harry. To Severus, he explained, "Teddy is Lupin and Tonks' son. He's a metamorphmagus like she was."

Severus, of course, knew that already; he had not restricted his surveillance to Harry and his family. On the topic of who had the right to become an Animagus, he decided to hold his tongue. Harry had not named this child after Sirius Black.

"If you want to work with animals, you should study Care of Magical Creatures, not try to become one," Harry said to Albus. "Finish your lunch."

The boy looked mutinous, but he lifted the sandwich to take a bite. "I don't like the Potions professor," he said to Severus. "How come you don't want to teach it anymore?"

"Al," Harry cautioned.

"I suppose there were some things I enjoyed about teaching," Severus reflected. "Can't think of any of them just now."

Albus laughed. Harry beamed. Severus applied himself to his sandwich. He'd eaten some lovely things over the last twenty years, but he hadn't lost his taste for egg, bacon and tomato sandwiches, even if the bread was a little posh. He tried not to look at the two Potters.

What a mess. He'd finally got free of everything and everyone when he'd faked his death, and now he was voluntarily becoming embroiled again, all for a bit of kissing and cuddling and a feeling of vindication. His comfortably isolated life -- interrupted occasionally by sex with strangers -- would come to an end. No more early morning quiet at whatever job he'd picked up, whether from working all night or the morning shift. No more undisturbed flow of concentration, moving from one task to another. He'd have to deal with all these people from his past.

Albus finished his entire sandwich and half of Harry's. Snape had an urge to protest that Harry still wasn't eating enough, but had a sudden image of himself in the boy's eyes scolding like Molly Weasley. This was ridiculous, being here with a child who was Molly's grandson as well as Lily's, and with a lover who kept darting grateful looks in his direction.

"Are you a secret?" Albus asked suddenly.

Severus looked at him quizzically. Had Potter actually told his son...?

"That you're not dead. They don't know at Hogwarts, right? Are you in trouble?"

Harry was looking at Severus too. "He isn't in trouble, Al," he told his son.

Asking a child to keep a secret was certainly asking for trouble. Severus remembered all too clearly being ordered by Dumbledore to keep Remus Lupin's secret after Severus had so painstakingly searched it out. What a pleasure it had been to blurt it out and watch student eyes go wide, even if they weren't the students he had once wanted to tell.

"Obviously I am not a secret, or I would not be here," Severus proclaimed. Harry looked uneasy at his tone, but Albus smiled again.

"I wouldn't tell anyway," he said. "I'm happy I got to meet you first. Usually it's James who gets to meet everyone first -- because he's older, you know," he assured his father. He didn't continue in this line of thought, but continued to look at Severus possessively through the rest of the conversation.

The only thing Severus found more bewildering than the instant dislike he'd faced in school was the rare occasion when a child had an irrational liking for him. Harry had set this up, with hero-worship tales of the two men whose names he'd given this boy. Or perhaps when Severus didn't Occlude, he wasn't as frightening to children.

Harry bought the boy an ice-cream, but wound up eating the end of it himself. Harry'd always had a sweet tooth. One learned a lot about a person, spying on him for thirty-odd years. This attraction to someone so much younger was perverse -- he was desperate to be that ice cream, sliding down Harry Potter's eager throat. Pathetic, and in front of the child, too.

"I told Albus he could spend the afternoon with Rose and Hugo," Harry said. Severus glanced at the boy to see whether he resented being sent off to play with his cousins, but Albus looked content, trying to wipe a bit of sticky drink off his sleeve with a shredding napkin. "Will you come with us? Hermione would be glad to..."

"I'm afraid I must stop in Diagon Alley," Severus replied. He had no real intention of visiting such a crowded wizarding destination, but neither did he wish to make small talk with Miss Granger...Mrs. Weasley, now. Harry didn't let his disappointment show, and Albus smiled a bit. Certainly the child wanted some time alone with his father.

"Why don't you stop by the house in an hour, then?"

"The upstairs loo is fixed," Albus said as if this would naturally affect whether someone would wish to visit.

Harry blushed very faintly. "The water was shut off while I had a larger tub installed in the upstairs bath."

"Did you," Severus said. Naked, wet Harry, his slick, muscular buttocks sliding across Severus' lap...he'd better not keep thinking about it. If the lad did have Legilimency talents, as he suspected, Severus would be caught. If he stood up right now, his half-hard prick might be obvious to even the ordinary people around them, especially in these Muggle clothes.

Quickly, he thought about other things: the people he would have to tell he was alive, what Minerva McGonagall would do to him when she learned it was all a great deception.

"All right?" Harry said.

Albus stood up and extended his hand. "Very nice to meet you, sir," he said.

Pain was easy; it was pleasure that was difficult. Blooming in the light of the child's regard, pleasure surprised him. He wanted to quell it. He didn't trust it. It was impossible that any of them suspected that Harry was sleeping with him, or Ginny would never have allowed the boy to come. He stood and gravely shook the boy's hand.

"I'll see you in an hour, then." Harry fixed him with a smile as warm as Albus's. "Shall I pick up some dinner?"

"We just ate, Dad."

"Though some of us mostly ate ice cream." Albus bit his lip and laughed as he realized that Severus was scolding Harry. "By all means, if you are hungry, pick up some proper food."

There was a bookshop across the alley from the sandwich shop. Severus ducked inside, pretending not to see Harry and Albus waving farewell from the opposite corner.

Even cheap Muggle paperbacks had a familiar, comfortable smell. He had visited bookshops and purchased books in every country he had visited during the years when he had been away. After his shift at the bakery in Montreal, when the bookshop had just opened, he used to buy obscure French herbals that the proprietor set aside for him. She always smiled to see him. When he worked as a nose, creating industrial scents and perfumes in Buenos Aires, he went to the English bookstore late at night; he was always the last customer. Sometimes he had picked up men that way.

His old life had been good. He was alone, but not lonely -- independent, not rejected, because no one knew him.

Was he a secret? The question brought a smile to his lips, though he resisted it. Severus had thought it would appear cowardly not to agree to meet the boy, but Harry would have assumed only that Severus wished to avoid any further entanglements.

Disappearing for twenty years, however...Minerva would call him a coward. Again. If she didn't just hex him hard on sight -- she had every reason to be angry. And what of the Malfoys? Would Lucius be pleased to see him or insist that Severus had betrayed him? Was it enough that he had done as Narcissa asked to keep Draco safe?

He wanted to remind himself of the risk of his situation, the undoubted fact that nearly everyone he'd known here -- all British wizardry -- hated him. As often happened when he'd seen Harry, though, a stupid irresistible happiness had overtaken him. He paid for his book, cast a glamour over his appearance and walked the mile and a half to Grimmauld Place. It was nearly autumn again, and there was a nice breeze blowing in his hair.

He knocked on the door and Harry fairly grabbed him, pulling him into the foyer and kissing him urgently.

"I take it we're alone," Severus said when he had sufficient air.

"Completely alone. Thank you. For lunch."

"You paid for lunch."

"You know what I mean." The kisses went on between sentences. Severus was already hard again, pressed up against the wall with Harry standing between his feet. "He likes you."

"You've passed your own ridiculous perceptions of me down to him."

"They're not ridiculous. You didn't try to scare him away. You could have, you know -- when he left for Hogwarts, he was terrified that he'd be sorted into Slytherin." The feel of Harry's erection against his thigh made Severus groan and thrust up in his too-tight Muggle clothes. He loved that Harry responded to him so easily, and he also thought it was going to get them both into trouble.

"Are you planning to fuck me right here, or to show me the upstairs bath?"

Harry laughed, delighted with him. Delighted to be with him. Severus felt vaguely embarrassed. "In the tub," Harry said in a throaty voice. "You fuck me." Maybe he had become a Legilimens too, or maybe he just knew by now what Severus liked.

They walked upstairs, pausing to kiss on the landing. Stupid Muggle trousers; Severus could barely walk, his cock was so hard. Harry kissed with everything he had, wet and hot. He spelled the tub to fill before they were even in the door, and began removing his clothing and dropping it on the bathroom floor. Oh, that lovely young arse. Even in his late 30s, Harry Potter had high, round buttocks that Severus wanted to bite, gently but firmly enough to feel them under his teeth.

He knelt on the bathroom rug and did it, as Potter gripped the edge of the filling tub. "Fuck," he whimpered.

"Not yet." Severus's teeth had left faint impressions in the pale skin where bum met thigh. He did the same on the other side, leaving a broken circle that went white, then pink, as his tongue flicked over the skin. Harry bent forward to shut the taps, spreading his thighs with the movement, leaving the dark pucker exposed.

It was an invitation, but Severus took his time accepting it, biting and licking his way along the curve of a buttock as he listened to Harry whimper. "Oh fuck. Oh please."

Severus opened his own trousers with one hand as he brushed his tongue over the wrinkled skin, shoving his hands into his pants and squeezing his cock. He could have come just like this, wanking, with his tongue in Harry's arse, but it took him a long time to recover at his age and he didn't want to waste the bath.

Still, it took him several long moments to move, letting his tongue pleasure Harry in a way he was certain no one else ever had. He owned this, and he never wanted to give it up. The texture of his flesh, the feeling of his body under Severus' as he surged up to stand with his fingers in Harry's arse, everything was his.

He plowed his fingers in and out, feeling the evidence of Harry's arousal inside, until finally Harry turned and said into his neck, "Don't you want to get into the bath?" The low buzz had Severus ready to step in with his clothes still on his body. Instead he let Harry get his shirt off, and his pants, and finally with a non-verbal spell he banished the rest.

The new bath was deep, but Severus still thought his prick was going to break the surface of the water, sticking straight up. Harry grabbed a dollop of lubricant and quickly applied it to his arse before sitting down on Severus' cock. He took Severus' prick inside his body in one go, so that Severus was enveloped in heat. Kneeling on the floor of the tub, Harry posted over Severus, water cascading over his lower back, his muscles kneading Severus' erection.

"Harry," he said, and Harry groaned and clenched inside. Severus held the bucking cock as it thrust into his hand under the water, currents forcing through his fingers, until he could feel the tremors of Harry's orgasm in his hand and around his cock and in the shaking of Harry's knees under the water.

He looked up to watch Harry's face. Harry's chin was tilted up and his mouth was open and a droplet of water was dripping down one cheek, sweat or condensation. Severus felt his mouth water but he couldn't reach to lick it with Harry squatting over his cock. A whimper escaped his nose, making Harry look down, beginning to move again.

"Fuck me. Want to make you come. I love you." Harry's wet fingers gripped down on Severus's wrists as he put his own hands on Harry's hips, fingers sliding to squeeze the round buttocks. "That's it. Love you. Do it, do it..."

The drop of water dripped from Harry's jaw onto Severus's mouth. He shoved himself up hard, once, twice more, straining toward Harry, trying to lick, suck, bite, anything...his balls tightened and he came, spurting into Harry, grunting.

A long sigh blew cool air over his damp hair. "Love you," Harry whispered again.

Severus could not speak. He could not say "I love you" to another person. His heart thudded, his body feeling too hot in the warm water.

"Are you all right?" Harry's voice sounded far away.

"I--" he said, and forced himself to breathe normally. Harry had turned around and was crouched next to him. "It's just post-coital tristesse," Severus explained. Harry was kissing away his tears, nevertheless. "A normal biological reaction in older men," he said.

"I love you," Harry said again, looking him in the face, "and you don't have to say anything back. I learned that from Luna Lovegood."

"What? You talked about our relationship with Luna Lovegood?"

Harry laughed. "Ginny and I met with her a few times when we decided to split -- to talk about what it would be like for the children. She did a lot of work with children after the war."

Severus pursed his lips. "But you didn't mention me."

"As far as I know, she thinks you're dead. You never know with Luna, though, she has a lot of strange insights. It helped me a lot to talk with her after the last battle." Harry had retrieved soap from somewhere and was washing Severus's neck and chest, fingers rubbing lightly over his skin. "I need to tell people things," he recited as he washed.

"You always did."

"I don't mean just telling them off. When I try to bottle things up, like I did with Dumbledore that year Voldemort was in my head and Dumbledore wouldn't tell me anything, I end up exploding and making things worse. Even if they're good things. I never really told Sirius I loved him and that bothered me so much, especially after I had children."

Harry's fingers were kneading his back. Severus groaned faintly. "I am a substitute for your father and your godfather. You never..."

Harry was laughing. "I knew you were going to say that. And you aren't. What do you think either one of them would say if they could see us now?"

Severus tried to snort. It sounded more like a sniffle.

"I loved Sirius, and he had as hard a life as you did -- don't make that face, you know it's true." Harry smiled, a distracting, guilty, wicked smile. "But I never wanted to kiss him."

As if Severus would miss the point if he didn't, Harry kissed him again.

Severus couldn't help smiling under his mouth. He took a breath. "I've never understood why people in your generation think it's a bad idea to bottle things up. Controlling emotions is an important part of being an adult."

"Of course it is, if you spend your entire adult life spying and pretending to be dead and all--" Harry's eyes snapped with sly humor like Lily's had. Severus smiled, again, forgetting to hide his teeth or camouflage the shape of his lips as he usually did.

"Oh," Harry said, his eyes widening, "you are so beautiful."

Once he'd been kissed to near suffocation, Severus shook his head. "There really is something wrong with you."

"I just like the way you look."

"I'm not complaining, I just think we should look into the possibility you've been hexed."

"Git."

Severus opened his hands under the water, and conjured a blooming lotus in his palms.

Not Easy

Afterward, Harry realized that it was more evidence that he lived a charmed life, because miraculously he had woken before Snape to make tea, and his soon-to-be-ex-wife hadn't found him buggering their old and theoretically dead Potions professor.

At the time, though, he was completely unsettled, hearing her key in the lock and her distinctive step on the stair. Yes, he realized, even the way she turned a key had a characteristic sound -- he knew her so well.

"Ginny!" he said, and automatically grasped her by the elbows and kissed her cheek. "I wasn't expecting you." It was, after all, the last Sunday before Hogwarts, and he thought she'd be enjoying every last moment with the children before she put them on the train.

"Harry," she said, and he could hear tension in her voice. "Have you completely lost your mind? It's -- Isn't it sick enough to Polyjuice some whore to look like -- do you have to expose our children to that --"

"What?"

"Lily told me that you introduced someone to Albus that you said was Severus Snape! Harry! How could you?"

"Do you honestly believe I would lie to Al?" Harry did not want to raise his voice to Ginny, but at the same time he wanted to be absolutely certain that Severus could hear them talking in case he planned to come downstairs. Harry wished he could guess whether Severus was likely to remain hidden upstairs or put in a glowering appearance lest Ginny should try to convince Albus that his father had deceived him. It was still impossible to guess what Snape might do or say in most situations.

Still holding Ginny by one elbow, he steered her toward the kitchen. "I was just making tea -- come have some." Fortunately, Harry had not yet removed the cups from the cupboard, so Ginny wouldn't have to know he had expected someone else to share it. "I haven't lost my mind, and I would hope you know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn't pretend anything of the sort with Albus. Snape is back."

Ginny's lips thinned. The hard look that Harry had once loved, which had made her seem so strong and determined, now seemed unyielding and somehow selfish.

"Harry," she began, sounding a bit like her mother about to launch into a lecture. "I'm sure you...Snape is dead. You're the one who told everyone, and Hermione agreed. Whatever you think you saw..."

"I'm not a complete idiot," Harry interrupted. Of course he had known that he would have to tell Ginny -- probably he should have told her before he introduced Severus to Albus -- but he had not expected her to react so strongly. He tried to keep irritation out of his voice, moving to fetch the cups and sugar so that he wouldn't have to look directly at her.

"My first thought was that he was an Inferius or something created by magic. But in this case, the simplest answer really is the correct one. Snape never died. He went into hiding. It's why they never found his body. And he's come back."

"Then it's even worse," Ginny said. "How you can possibly be having an affair with--?"

"We're getting divorced, love," Harry said, "We said it was all right to see other people." He poured the water into the teapot and stood looking at the cups. "Wait a minute. Did Albus say that I was with Severus? We didn't act like -- we didn't kiss or anything."

Ginny made an impatient noise. "Harry, you're such an innocent sometimes. Do you think children can't tell?" She stood up and began pacing the room. "You clearly don't know many gay men. They almost never kiss in public -- do you think people can't tell anyway?" She kicked the fridge door that sometimes got propped open and muttered the spell to keep the food from spoiling. "I wouldn't be surprised if it were someone under Polyjuice -- someone trying to gain your trust."

When had Ginny started to doubt him when it came to magic? Harry had to concede that he'd made many mistakes during their marriage, and he knew that he had hurt her, putting the Ministry and their children first at times when she had needed him to be there for her, but as an Auror he had been a pretty good judge of people and their motives. He hoped that she was just angry. "I don't know why I can never persuade you that I know what I'm doing," he said.

"Because you don't! You're powerful, and lucky, and very kind," her voice softened on this last, "and you never know what you're doing."

"Look, I don't know what you're on about. Albus let slip to me that you have a boyfriend already."

"Yes, I have a boyfriend, not a girlfriend, someone my own age, not twenty years older, and someone alive."

"Do your parents know, too? Was it -- this isn't why you wanted to separate, was it?"

"No, they don't, and no, it wasn't," Ginny said. She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Harry, I thought you were hoping we could patch things up. I didn't mean to hurt you." He handed her the box of tissues. "Now you've distracted me," she complained. "I don't want you to expose the children to this -- whoever he is."

A moment had passed, Harry realized, when it had become too late to patch things up. When he had known he wanted Severus more than he wanted Ginny, even if it wasn't what was best for the children. But that didn't give her the right to give him ultimatums.

"I don't think you have a leg to stand on here, Ginevra. Al already told me that he and Lily want to come stay with me if you marry your whoever-he-is. Whom I wouldn't have brought up to you if you weren't lecturing me. He's Snape, and he's -- well, in some ways he's the same as ever, but he isn't Albus's teacher. Talking to him isn't going to hurt them."

"They need you to be their father, Harry! To act like their father. Not to go chasing after someone who knew your mother briefly, a long time ago. You've never let go of that, have you. You had a wife and children and you still..."

Harry couldn't help it; he started to laugh. "You should talk to Severus. You both think I'm still looking for my parents."

Ginny crumpled the tissue and tossed it into the rubbish bin. As always, it was perfectly thrown. Ginny was still slim and athletic. She looked younger than her mother had at the same age.

"Then he's making more sense than you are," she said. "Did you talk to Luna?"

"Maybe we should both talk to her. We didn't discuss introducing the children to people we're dating. I'd be happy to know what she thinks."

"I meant about you." Ginny scowled as though Harry had deliberately misled her. "This...relationship. Al says..." She gritted her teeth. "Al says he makes you smile."

"By being amusing," Harry said. "He's not holding a wand to my head."

"Very funny. Draco said you--"

Harry rocked back in his chair. "Draco? You were talking with Draco Malfoy? About me? What? How did you -- did you just happen to run into him, or is he the boyfriend?"

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek, and took a breath. "He's the boyfriend."

"Bloody hell, Ginny!" Harry laughed and shook his head. "Bloody hell. Your brother is going to shit a brick."

"It's none of his business and don't be vulgar."

Harry kept shaking his head and smiling. "We are in so much trouble." Then he heard himself and his throat got tight as he corrected, "Not we. I didn't mean to say we."

"Oh, Harry, Ron isn't going to blame you."

"Of course he will, you know he will." Harry blew his nose. He was not quite crying and and not quite laughing at the same time. "My best friend is going to blame me that his sister is going out with Draco Malfoy! Except you probably told Hermione already."

"No I did not." She scowled heavily -- a very Severus-like expression, he reflected. He heard Severus' light tread on the hallway carpet a floor above them.

"Can we say 'pax' on the boyfriend question?" Harry asked quickly. "I think this is something we should discuss with Luna, really."

"You can discuss it with her. Draco says it's too much like Muggle therapy, and I agree."

"Draco? I can see where you might fancy him, but is he really a paragon of mental health and wizardly virtue?"

She stared at him. "It's true, it must be Snape. I've never heard you talk like that before."

"And I've never heard you object to anything because it was too much like something Muggles would do. What happened to Draco's wife? Their son is the same age as Albus, isn't he? I'm surprised divorce isn't something too Muggle for Draco to consider."

"He wasn't the one who asked for one. Harry, this isn't your business."

Again Harry laughed. "You came storming over here to lecture me about Snape, but it isn't my business whether the new boyfriend of the mother of my children is properly divorced? You aren't being fair, Ginny." He ran a hand through his hair, took a sip of the now-cold tea and stood up to make some toast. Quarreling always put him in the mood for sweets and there was strawberry jam in the pantry.

"What do you mean, you can see where I might fancy him?" asked Ginny guardedly.

"Draco can be quite charming when he wants to be. He's good looking and he loves Quidditch." Glancing over, Harry saw that Ginny's mouth was twisted. "It's that Severus is a man, isn't it. Not the age difference or the..."

"A spy! Who killed Dumbledore! And who disappeared for twenty years!" Ginny's voice was loud enough to carry upstairs, nearly as loud as Mrs. Black's had been when her portrait dominated the hallway. "And I'm not going to pretend that...bloody hell! All those years we were together...were you gay?"

He frowned. "I don't know what that even means."

"Did you just sleep with me to -- I don't know, to make me happy, or to have children?"

She looked so unhappy that he couldn't bear it. "No...Ginny, you know I didn't even want to separate. I was willing to make a go of it. I still -- I love you. I just--"

She shook her head. "I should have realized it had something to do with your sexuality."

"There's nothing wrong with my sexuality!"

She rolled her eyes. "He's not here now, is he?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he is."

"Here, in our house?"

"Ginny, for Merlin's sake, how can you say that when you left me to date the likes of Draco Malfoy?"

Her wand sparked and flamed, and she gave a little shriek of frustration, stamping her foot as she Disapparated.

He could hear that Snape was standing behind him. "I didn't handle that well, did I?"

Snape was chuckling -- a welcome sound. "Yes, I think that if you prefer a decrepit old man twenty years your senior to that beautiful, athletic young firebrand of a witch, you're probably gay."

Harry smiled. "You're better in bed," he said. "Anyway, life isn't only fucking."

"Isn't it?" Snape put his arms around Harry from behind. "The way you go on, I thought it was."

"Ha bloody ha," Harry said, turning in his arms and kissing him. "There are personality issues."

"Oh, I see," Snape said, his eyebrows raised. "You prefer me to her based on my personality."

"It's not that I prefer -- all right, listen. I don't prefer you to anyone. I am in love with you."

Severus got that look he didn't like for Harry to see, where his cheeks went pink and his nostrils flared and Harry always thought for a moment that he might say it back. "People don't choose life partners based on being in love. Malfoy certainly didn't -- there are only a handful of families whose daughters would have been acceptable to his parents."

"Ginny's family certainly isn't one of them." Harry kissed him again. "And look how Draco's marriage turned out -- you heard Ginny talking, right?"

He felt better about everything standing here with Snape in his kitchen, feeling Snape's arms creep around him almost furtively. Snape was remarkably uninhibited when there was sex on offer, but when it was just cuddling, he acted like he was just going to rest his hands on Harry's waist or let his chin drop onto Harry's shoulder, just for a moment.

There was a knock at the door.

"What the hell...!" Harry's first thought was that it must be Ginny again, but he doubted that she would have knocked. If she'd let herself in once, she'd have done it again.

Severus chuckled again. "Perhaps she told her brother and he's come to shout at you."

Harry sighed. He had really been looking forward to strawberry toast and riding Severus's cock till they both came. "I suppose I had better find out."

He left Snape drinking lukewarm tea and went to answer the door. Draco Malfoy was standing on the other side. His cloak was buttoned unevenly, as if he had left in a great hurry, and his hair was messier than Harry had ever seen it outside a Quidditch pitch.

"Potter," he said in a strained voice. "Is it true...is he really...?"

"Why did Ginny tell you where our house was? What was she thinking?" Harry did the thing with his hair that made it stick straight up and then caught himself and tried to smooth it down. "Come in, Malfoy, you might as well."

"Is it true?"

Harry nodded and ushered him up the stairs to the kitchen, where Severus stood, holding a teacup. He put it down, his eyes widening slightly.

"Draco," Severus said. Draco fell on him, weeping.

Harry watched him gingerly patting Draco's back, and mouthed, "If you kiss him, I will kill you." He mimed slitting his throat. Severus rolled his eyes. Finally he held Draco at arm's length. Draco wiped his face in his hand. Harry handed him a tissue.

"It's a bit of a shock, isn't it," he murmured.

Draco nodded. Then he turned to Harry. "It is really him, isn't it? It's not some bloke you've Polyjuiced to look like him?"

"What was the name of your stuffed rabbit that you slept with in first year?" Severus asked. "Do you recall which not-quite-illegal charm you used to stop Theodore Nott from stealing it, and the lines I made you write for casting it?" Harry smiled helplessly.

"Professor, please," Draco said.

"Oh, Malfoy, bloody hell," Harry said. "The entire wizarding world knows about my sleeping habits, and every embarrassing thing that happened to Severus. You're sleeping with my wife -- I think we can share a little something about your bunny."

"I'm not sleeping with her yet." Malfoy snapped his lips shut and he reddened, and then looked grim. "She wants to wait until your divorce is final." He looked disapprovingly at Harry's bare chest under his dressing gown, and at Severus' bare feet.

"Huh." Harry nodded. "Well, at least that's one reason fewer for my brother-in-law to kill me."

"You married her for that," Draco said accusingly. "You married a perfectly beautiful, powerful, intelligent witch in order to be able to call Ron Weasley 'my brother-in-law.' Why not just let her mother adopt you and have done with it?"

Severus laughed. Draco stared at him. It was weird how much Harry was enjoying this. He liked seeing poised Draco Malfoy unsettled, but he was also feeling again what it had been like to see Severus Snape, the dead martyr, alive and laughing. Draco hadn't insulted Harry in years, and he was enjoying that, too.

"Sit down, Malfoy, and have some toast." Harry grinned to see Draco obey so quickly, and again to see Severus crossly hand him a napkin, as Severus would have done to Harry if Harry had failed to put one in his lap. Severus wouldn't have been scowling if he hadn't been touched by Draco's greeting.

"Were you ever planning to tell me you were back?" Draco demanded, scooping jam onto his toast with a knife. "I realize I don't have Chosen One credentials..."

Severus made the face he used to make when looking in Neville's cauldron. Harry sat down at the table with him, bringing a teacup for Draco, trying to hold in his smile.

"And you, Potter -- you could have told me," added Draco.

"Because we've spoken so often in the past fifteen years. You should be thanking me -- you know I'm the reason Ginny told you. What did she say when you took off to see us?"

"Threw her arms in the air and threatened to curse me." Draco lifted his cup in a toast to Ginny. "Don't think she was really surprised, though. Snape saved my life."

"So did I," Harry reminded Draco, who had fixed Severus with an adoring look that made Harry rather grateful that Draco was dating Ginny.

"This is ridiculous," Severus muttered.

"Are you going to tell Draco that you're not a father substitute and he's silly to cry over you, like you told me?" Harry asked him.

"He was weepier than you were as a child."

Draco looked from Harry to Snape, and then grinned. Harry grinned back.

"I have mixed feelings about all this--" Draco gestured between the two of them, "but I must say, on some level it does make sense."

"Oh, I'm so pleased you approve," Snape said.

Draco bit into his toast, and chewed thoughtfully. He took a sip of tea. "Did Molly Weasley make this jam, Potter?"

"Of course."

He nodded. "I can see why my mother was jealous of her."

Harry could not close his mouth. He watched Draco eat a piece of toast and drink his tea, and generally compose himself.

"Professor, will you come to see my family? I know that my parents would love to -- and I want my son to meet you." He choked up again, and looked surprised at himself, and drank another sip of tea.

Snape, still leaning against the kitchen wall, nodded. Draco rose and embraced him again, gulping a little. Then he turned to Harry, and looked a bit at a loss. With as much savoir faire as he could muster, Harry shook Malfoy's hand.

With a nearly inaudible crack, Malfoy Disapparated.

"I don't believe it," Harry said.

"What? That Draco Malfoy was pleased to see me? That he's dating your wife? That she won't sleep with him?"

Harry put more slices of bread under the toaster. "Oh no, I believe all that. No -- that Narcissa Malfoy was jealous of Molly."

"I rather think it was her seven healthy children that Narcissa coveted than her domestic skills."

Harry buttered his toast and spread it with jam. He put a piece on his own plate and one on Severus's. "It is very good jam," he said.

"Cissy always liked children. She's going to dote on your three." Harry choked a little, and Severus patted him on the back. "Especially little Lily."

Harry took a sip of tea. "Why, because she's a girl?"

"Because she's a Slytherin."

Harry started to laugh. "She had to have tricked Al into telling her about you."

"Of course."

"Are you going to go meet Draco's son?"

Severus opened the refrigerator. Sharp cheddar and some strawberries floated over to the table. He got a knife and sat down, cutting slices of cheese and placing them in a row on his plate.

"I suspect that Draco is telling his parents right now," Severus said. "You may soon hear the entire House of Malfoy banging on your door."

"Then it's a good thing I have tea already brewed," Harry said lightly. "You can help me slice the strawberries." Severus speared a bit of cheese with his fork. "You told Al you weren't a secret."

"I must visit Minerva. If she learns that I visited with the Malfoys without letting her know that I was here..."

"Invite her over too. Anyone you want." He watched Severus continue to stab at his food. "You can't expect me to believe you were sorry to see Draco. Even I wasn't sorry to see him, exactly, though I had better not catch you snogging him."

It had the intended effect; Severus smirked. "I wouldn't dare. Who knows what Ginevra might do to me."

Harry grinned back. He licked his finger and picked up toast crumbs from his plate. "They all know you're here," he said as casually as possible, shrugging a bit. "You could bring your things. Catch up with people."

"'Dear Minister Shacklebolt, I hope that you are well. I am alive and have made Potter my catamite. If you have a moment to issue a formal pardon for crimes committed...'"

Harry hooted with laughter. "Catamite!" he repeated. "That's my life's ambition, to be your catamite."

Severus looked at his handiwork. "What was your real life's ambition?"

"What was yours?"

They were both stymied. "I asked first," Severus said after a bit.

"To have my own home -- to feel at home," Harry said slowly. "Wait, let's take the plate of strawberries and cheese upstairs to eat in bed." He held out his hand to Severus, who took it and made the plate float in front of them.

When they had settled on the bed, Harry's head in Severus' lap, he said, "Now you. What was your real ambition?"

"To be recognized -- to be seen and heard."

"How about felt?" Harry said, squeezing his thigh. Severus was ticklish and jerked away. Harry sat up. "If you wanted recognition, why have you been hiding for twenty years?"

"What kind of recognition would I get for the things I've done? Aside, of course, from legal proceedings."

"I think you are the bravest person I've ever met," Harry said.

"That means something to me," Severus said, looking away from him. "But I don't understand it. You had to be braver at seventeen than I did for most of my adult life."

"You did what Dumbledore asked -- all of it." Harry rubbed his fingers up and down Severus's arm. He twitched slightly but did not pull away again. "You watched so many people die. You might have had to watch Draco die, and his parents."

"And you."

Harry sat very still. Tears stung his eyes, but after Draco's display he was a bit embarrassed to subject Severus to more weeping. "I thought you said you didn't care. When Dumbledore asked you if you cared about me, you said that it was all for my mother. Your Patronus...everything."

"He had already planned to sacrifice you for the greater good. I don't know why that surprised me at the time -- I always knew how ruthless he could be." Severus brought his free hand over Harry's on his arm, holding his fingers there. "You had a piece of Voldemort's soul inside you."

"You didn't want to like me. You looked for ways to see my father in me."

Severus was silent for a moment. "I suppose I'm lucky that we both lived to see each other grow up a bit since then." He inhaled. "Though I suspect that if I hadn't made myself hate you then, I wouldn't be able to love you the way I do now."

Then Harry couldn't hold back the tears any more. It was like when James was born and he first held him, and thought, "Now I'll have a family." He couldn't even speak. It was only a minute or so, but it felt like all the tears in the world, finally let out.

Severus froze for a moment -- Harry felt it -- and then he moved in close and put his arms around Harry.

"Sorry," Harry said, and hiccupped a little. "I didn't even cry like that when you died." He swallowed. "I didn't cry like that when anyone died."

Severus kissed him. It was one of those kisses that had to taste of snot and tears, but Harry didn't care. He tried to put everything into it. Then he thought he'd better just say it. "I love you too," he said.

"I know, you've said," Severus replied.

"All right, good, now we're clear." Severus had moved from kissing his face to his neck, and licked his Adam's apple. He pulled Harry into his lap, where Harry could rub against him.

"It's just post-coital tristesse," Harry told him, and began to laugh.

Severus's chest quivered against his. "You can't have post-coital tristesse until you fuck me."

The plate of cheese and fruit floated off the bed and out of sight. Severus opened Harry's dressing gown and slid it off his shoulders. He shivered, and did it again when Severus licked one of his nipples then breathed over it to make it stiffen. Harry tried to thrust against Severus's belly but the angle wasn't working. "I can't fuck you unless you lie down."

They moved apart to toss what they were wearing over the side of the bed. Severus shifted away from the headboard and leaned up on his elbows as Harry crawled over him, rubbing their cocks together.

There was a loud bang at the front door, followed by several raps of the knocker. "That will be the Malfoys," Severus muttered.

"We're not at home."

"Draco will know why we aren't answering the door."

"Good -- then we won't have to explain later." Severus's cock was twitching up against his and Harry moaned, thrusting to one side of it, into the wiry pubic hair. "I'm not leaving this bed until we've consummated this...this whatever-it-is."

"I'm not consummating anything on my back," Severus announced.

Harry rolled them over so that Severus was on top of him. "What if I bottom? It's my turn. Only fair."

Severus made a resigned, long-suffering face. "Oh all right," he said, and Harry laughed, and Severus kissed him again. Harry knew how much he loved to top in this position. Severus put his fingers in Harry's mouth, and then used them to tease his arse. He used a non-verbal spell and Harry felt his arse get all wet.

"Suave," Harry gasped. There was still knocking downstairs. Severus crooked one of his fingers and found Harry's prostate. "You have to fuck me now, please. Please. I want you so badly." Harry pulled his legs up.

"You're just saying that to get me to fuck you," Severus said. He was moving his fingers in and out. He withdrew them and thrust in with his cock, bending Harry's body double.

Harry tried to keep talking in the way that seemed to get Severus more turned on. "Fuck me, yes, I love your big prick in me," but soon he couldn't speak. Fucking like this seemed to fill the space behind his cock, so that not only his arse but his cock and balls were full of Severus's cock. Every thrust made him grunt a small huff of air, made his cock bounce against his stomach, made him feel like he was going to explode.

Severus could last a long time, long enough to fuck an orgasm out of Harry without touching his cock. Harry's voice got louder as the bed creaked and Severus leaned into him. "Oh," Harry cried. He came, and came, and trembled, a long orgasm protracted by Severus's thrusts, and then Severus shouted his name and collapsed on top of him, panting.

"Have I earned my post-coital tristesse now?" asked Harry eventually, once he had let his legs down and Severus had slipped out to lie on top of him.

"Only if you insist. I have heard enough bawling for one morning." Severus had his face crushed against Harry's collarbone. It was uncomfortable, but not enough to make Harry move. "Listen. They've stopped knocking."

"Probably they heard us screaming and went home." Harry could feel himself smiling, a big grin that held his mouth open. He was thirsty -- he needed more tea, when he could be arsed to brew it.

"That was you screaming." The twitch of Severus's jaw along Harry's shoulder told him that Severus was smirking too. Severus was always unaccountably pleased with himself after making Harry come like that. "I shall need to owl them later. And Minerva -- I suppose I had better invite her out for a stiff drink."

"Invite her to come here. I haven't seen her in a long time." Harry's fingers had worked their way into Snape's lank hair and stroked through it lazily. "Does she know you're, um -- you like men?"

"Since I was sixteen. A Gryffindor and I were late returning from Hogsmeade."

Harry laughed aloud. "The Gryffindors when you were at Hogwarts were an ill-behaved lot."

"Unlike the typical Gryffindor paragon of virtue. You weren't still a virgin when you left school?"

"Of course I was. She had five older brothers. And I don't want to think about what her mother might have done to me if we'd been caught."

Severus lifted his head, dislodging Harry's fingers. "Just her and me, then?"

"Are we talking about sex, or people I was in love with?"

"Is it a different number?"

"Yes. Maybe. No."

Severus laughed. "I just can't believe a person with your good looks--"

Harry smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "I want to hear about my good looks, please."

"I'm sure you've heard before."

Harry shrugged. "Nah. Hermione once said I was 'fanciable,' though. Made Ron go all pink. I really don't think that's why people fall in love, do you?"

"How would I know? Voldemort didn't exactly encourage romance."

"Not -- not Dumbledore either," Harry admitted. "I'm sorry, Severus."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Sorry that you missed all those chances."

Severus shook his head. "I wasn't ready. I'm not sure I'm ready now, but -- a wizard has to act. One can't achieve greatness without risk."

"That sounds very Slytherin. Who said that?"

"I did," and he kissed Harry on the forehead.

Harry slid his fingers back into Severus's hair and pulled him down. "I'm only a little bit sorry...I'm also glad to have you to myself. Did I catch Slytherin from you?"

Severus snorted. "You're the expert at getting what you want."

Harry thought again of Ginny, and how careful he had been for so long not to mess things up with her and her family. He and Ginny had each married someone who had seemed just like what they should have wanted.

This morning, Harry was sure, Ginny had finally seen who he was now. He wondered whether she had ever seen Draco cry the way Draco had done in the kitchen earlier, and what she would have thought had she been there. Maybe it wasn't that she hated tears...maybe she had got the idea that Harry did, from back when they were seventeen, no, eleven, and they had both acted accordingly.

"I want to ask you if we can have a -- dinner," Harry said. "Like a party. With my children and Ron and Hermione's family, and Minerva and the Malfoys if you want." And Teddy, and maybe Neville if it was possible at this point to convince him and Snape to give it a try. Neville would do it if Harry asked, but he still didn't know what Severus would say.

"I despise gatherings," Severus announced, predictably, though his voice was muffled because his face was against Harry's shoulder.

"I just thought it might be better than having a long series of people knocking at the door. Everyone will know soon. I'd rather not get interrupted again."

Severus shook his head. "No, that doesn't make sense. One at a time. If you have to tell someone 'Sorry, I pretended to be dead for twenty years,' they aren't going to be pleased to hear it at a party."

"Why not? A party to celebrate that you are alive."

"One at a time. Or two, if they are a couple. Not all at once. Minerva first, and I want to write to her and have you speak with her, so she doesn't hex me on sight as I so richly deserve."

If Severus was considering the best way to do it, that meant it would happen.

"Are you going to come to Hogwarts during the semester to see Minerva?"

"No, I'm going to come to Hogwarts during the semester to see you. I'll take a room in Hogsmeade."

"You will?"

Harry could feel Severus tense under his hand. "I thought you would want that."

"Oh God, I would love it! I didn't think -- I was afraid to ask anything like that." He tried to lean back to look at Severus's face, but the pillow thwarted him. "Would you ever think about teaching again?"

"Don't push it. I'm willing to see your children and Malfoy's if I must."

Harry grinned. It was far more than he had expected or hoped for. "Will you get a job? Or do you have savings?" He wasn't sure any of this was his business, but he did feel quite certain that Snape would tell him if that were the case.

"I'm a bit young to retire. I've made inquiries at Dervish & Banges -- I expect you know that Dervish has passed on and young Banges doesn't have a clue how to run a shop. He's agreed to allow me to take over the repairs division. The hours are flexible. Business is slow in the summer with nearly everyone gone from Hogwarts."

Harry felt elated and choked up. He took breaths through his nose so as not to subject Severus to any more tears. "That's what you really want to do? It's not just...you won't start resenting me?"

Severus sat up. "Please. I am an adult. If I start resenting you -- no. If I decide that I still resent you, I'll do what I've always done."

"Insult me and be a complete arse?"

"Exactly."

"Jolly good," Harry said.

"You said you wanted to be with me. Don't come crying to me if I'm an impossible old bastard."

"Generally when you get too impossible, it means I owe you a blowjob."

"You don't owe me a blowjob. Nobody owes someone a blowjob." Severus sounded sleepy. Harry lay down and opened his arms.

"Come snuggle with me. School starts this week, and it's our last chance for a bit to have a post-coital nap in the middle of the day."

"Especially as now everyone knows where I am," Severus grumbled, but Harry could see how quickly he got them settled in each other's arms.

Not Family

"This is why I never married."

Severus thought he had merely raised an eyebrow, but the expression must have conveyed some unintended meaning, because Minerva McGonagall fixed him with a glare and demanded, "Did you believe it was because no one had ever asked me?"

"Certainly not." Raising his glass, Severus saluted her before he tossed back the last of the whisky and lifted the bottle to pour again. "I had imagined, however, that the most worthy candidates were likely Slytherins."

Ginny's voice traveled across the room. "It is not your business, Percy, and of anyone in this family who has no business telling me..." Severus tried to ignore her without Occluding. He refilled Minerva's glass, though hers was only half empty.

"When I was a student, Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup six years in a row." Minerva smiled nostalgically. "I had already decided that I wanted to teach. I couldn't see myself following a star Quidditch player from Falmouth to Wimbourne and on to Transylvania for the World Cup, although he did plead with me. His father believed that women should remain at home with the children, like Mrs. Weasley."

Across the room, Mrs. Weasley was now attempting to intercede in the discussion between Ginevra and her brothers. Arthur had retired from the Ministry, but Molly continued to serve as chief administrator of the home for orphans established in the aftermath of the war. Severus would only have been slightly surprised if she had become Minister of Magic by the time he returned from South America.

"Such a shame about Gryffindor this season," he declared to Minerva. "If only your Beater had not been disqualified for blagging, he might have stood some chance of stopping young Scorpius there." The boy had arrived with Ginny and her children and was, at present, playing Gobstones with Lily Potter, who was winning handily.

Harry was grinning at Severus like a complete idiot. "What's wrong, Potter?" Minerva asked testily.

"Nothing."

"Not rooting for Slytherin House now that you have a daughter there?"

"Oh, no, of course not," Harry said. "Having the children in different houses means not talking Quidditch much, at all." He gestured. "Carry on."

"So pleased we amuse you," she replied acidly.

Draco Malfoy came in with his father. Lucius leaned surreptitiously on the cane he'd once carried only for style. Arthur Weasley froze and Molly put a hand on his arm as Harry's daughter Lily came to meet them in the doorway. "Happy Christmas, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

"Happy Christmas, Lily," Draco responded, and his father echoed him. Narcissa came inside a moment later, carrying a platter that was promptly sent off to the kitchen by Draco.

"Ginevra, darling, how wonderful that you invited us," she gushed. She kissed Ginny on both cheeks. Severus rose; he was determined that Harry would come off handsomely somehow.

"Severus," Narcissa said, relief evident in her voice. "Happy Christmas." She kissed him, too, and then it was only natural for Harry to shake her hand, as he was right there.

"I think you know my moth -- know Arthur and Molly Weasley," Harry said.

"Yes, happy Christmas," Molly and Narcissa said at the same time. Arthur and Lucius just stood looking at each other.

Ron and Hermione and their two children came in at that moment, which was fortunate as Severus had no inclination to step between the glaring older wizards.

"We've got parcels for everyone," Hugo announced. "Hullo Scorp, hullo Al! My Muggle grandparents bought us the most smashing chocolates -- I brought some to share."

"Your parents bought chocolates?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "People change."

"You're not wrong." Ron was glaring daggers at Ginny, who had gone over to give Draco a chaste kiss on the cheek. Hermione followed her husband as he stormed over to greet them both, scowling.

Severus had learned from Lily that Ginny had moved in with Draco -- very nearly the day her divorce from Harry had become final. It was hard to say which of their mothers was more distressed at this turn of events. Severus suspected that it might be Molly, because despite her obsession with proper appearances, Narcissa seemed simply delighted to have three more children in her life.

Albus continued to resist the Malfoys. Severus had overheard more than one tearful conversation in which the boy had told Harry that he didn't want to stay with Ginny -- he wanted to live with Harry and Severus all the time -- but Harry, who saw much more of the children at Hogwarts, had insisted that Albus remain with his siblings for the holidays. James had accepted Draco once a few tricks with frogs and flobberworms failed to land him in serious trouble, and Lily liked Scorpius.

"I hope they haven't brought outrageous gifts," Harry muttered to Hermione, who had made her way back over from the spot where Ginny was now speaking in forceful tones to three of her brothers. "Narcissa took Lily shopping and bought her fancy party dresses and a doll with outfits to match. It wasn't even her birthday. Ginny thought it would be rude to take them back. Can you imagine what will happen if Molly knitted the children jumpers and the Malfoys produce silver dragon chess sets that breathe fire?"

"I don't envy you," said Hermione, who gave Harry a brief hug of greeting, then surprised Severus by leaning up to embrace him. He stiffened automatically. Muggles did this at holiday celebrations, Hermione had been raised by Muggles, she would consider his behavior rude. A moment later she released him. "Professor Snape. It's good to see you. And Professor McGonagall." She extended a hand, which Minerva took, bemused.

"Hugo is determined to get Albus and Scorpius on speaking terms," Hermione informed them. Severus had trouble keeping himself from laughing. If there were any two boys likely to be discovered on the Astronomy Tower in seventh year, it was the young Malfoy scion and Potter's sweet middle child. He saw the looks that Scorpius gave Albus when he thought no one was looking. Who could blame him? Albus looked like Harry...

Harry, who was looking at him suspiciously. Minerva laughed. That was the problem with not Occluding; his thoughts were visible in his face. Luckily, Harry's favorite Weasley interrupted his next, obvious question.

"Mate, I know it's not your fault, but could you do something about my sister?" Ron's sotto voce question carried far enough that it earned them a glare from Ginevra.

"No," Harry said.

"I don't mean about Malfoy -- Malfoy! -- but could you persuade her to go easy on my mum?"

"No," Harry said. "She's her mother. Even when we were married, that wasn't a relationship I was going to get in the middle of."

Privately Severus thought that it was likely Ginny who needed protection from Molly rather than the other way around. Even had he been inclined to voice such an opinion, however, the vegetable dip would have kept him silent. Most of the Boxing Day food consisted of leftovers from the various family Christmas parties of the day before -- Harry's children had spent the morning with their father and himself, the evening with their mother and grandparents -- but Molly had tossed all the uneaten veg onto a platter and made a paste with curry and creme fraiche, and the result was delicious.

Ron stuck out a hand, stiffly, as if he had had to work up to the action. "Professor Snape," he muttered in greeting.

"Mister Weasley." Severus offered him a small smile, which seemed to unnerve Ron even more. "Congratulations. I am told that your daughter is an excellent Potions student."

"Got that from Hermione, not me." Shuffling his feet, Ron blushed faintly. Rose Weasley stood slightly off to the side, watching the other children play Gobstones, nose wrinkling slightly as the spitting commenced again. Scorpius laughed delightedly, but Severus remembered his own mother insisting that he play against her -- she had always won -- and sympathized with the girl. Christmas at the Snape household had generally involved his father drinking too much and falling into either a sleep or a rage while his mother attempted to keep Severus distracted.

"Should I ask everyone to come into the dining room before Arthur and Lucius come to blows?" Harry asked Severus in a low voice. The two men were pointedly avoiding one another as they greeted the other guests.

"Before one of the children spills soup on the carpet, at least." There were more than a dozen wizards and witches present capable of casting an effective cleaning charm, but Severus did not want to listen to the cries of dismay beforehand.

Raising his voice, Harry called over the chatter, "Thank you all for coming. I know this hasn't...it's been a complicated year for all of us." Draco had his arm around Ginny, at whom Molly was shooting glares, while Narcissa was trying to insinuate herself near Lily and Scorpius without getting too close to the Gobstones. "If you'll come into the dining room, we can start dinner."

"For someone who always hated parties, you seem to be having rather a good time," Lucius said low in his ear as they passed on the way into dinner. "Schadenfreude?"

"Naturally," Severus said. "How entertaining it would be if you and Arthur Weasley engaged in fisticuffs, again." Lucius blanched; it was just detectable under his usual pallor. "Though I don't suppose my nubile young lover would enjoy it, and I would hate to be deprived of my evening's entertainment just for the pleasure of watching you repair a bloody nose."

"So touchy," Lucius complained.

"I always was," Severus said.

But he was having a good time, and keeping Lucius Malfoy in line was not the least of it. He'd never liked Christmas, but he was enjoying being part of a happy family. It was almost like being back at Hogwarts with Albus, except that he actually felt he was a part of things. Or, at least, no more an outsider than the numerous other people here today attempting to work out where they belonged.

"This used to be my kitchen, Mum, you aren't going to keep me out," Ginny was saying sharply from across the room as Severus entered. He could see that it was not Ginny whom Molly was politely trying to block, but Narcissa, who had been explaining that she had brought something delicate prepared by her house-elves, the serving of which she wanted to supervise personally. All the children were sitting together at the end of the table furthest from the fireplace; Draco and Ron both reached for the seat next to James, then paused and gave each other appraising looks.

The front door banged open, causing silence to descend over the room as everyone turned at the sound. "Am I late?" A rather handsome young man strode into the dining room with a wide smile on his face and promptly tripped over a chair leg, practically landing in Severus's lap. "Bugger! I'm sorry!" he stammered, hair turning faintly reddish as he straightened. "Oh! You must be Snape."

"That's Teddy," Lily piped up from the end of the table. "He's not supposed to say 'bugger' when there are children in the room." Severus had seen Lupin and Tonks' son on several occasions, but had never spoken to him. He had thought the young man resembled his mother, though he could see now that the shape of his face was entirely his father's...this was what Remus Lupin might have looked like had he not been bitten by a werewolf as a child, scarred and frightened and taught to make himself blend in.

"Brought you a present, Lils," Teddy announced, turning away from Severus for a moment to grin at her. Conversation resumed all around, and in that moment Teddy caught Severus's arm. "I'd heard that you were back. You were at Hogwarts with my father, weren't you? If we..."

Severus was saved by Arthur, who came over to give Teddy a pat on the back. At one time Severus had heard that Teddy was dating Arthur's oldest granddaughter, but Bill's family was in France at present and Severus did not know whether that youthful romance had come to an end. Despite having been orphaned as a baby, Teddy did not seem as desperate for a family as Harry had been.

And what was he going to tell Teddy Lupin if the young man hoped for tales of heroism about his father? Severus was likely the only one of his contemporaries who had known Remus Lupin's secrets. He sighed inwardly. Lupin was dead, Severus was here; he supposed he could mention that he and Lupin had attended meetings of the Order of the Phoenix in this very house. Lupin had tried to be kind to him -- he ought to find a way to do the poor fellow a good turn twenty years later. He tried to look pleasant; young Lupin looked mildly alarmed.

"Place cards," Harry muttered under his breath. "I should have listened to Hermione and got place cards. Everyone is trying to sit with the children."

Molly and Narcissa, having reached some sort of modus vivendi, emerged from the kitchen followed by enormous platters of food.

Minerva cleared her throat. "Severus," she said, and handed him a glass of wine, lifting her eyebrows. She tapped her wand on the tablecloth, and bottles of sparkling wine popped their corks and filled the wineglasses at each place.

"I would like to propose a toast," Severus said in his lecture voice. All eyes turned to him, and the room grew quiet. What would he say? Absent friends? Gaaah. God Save the Queen? No. To Harry's incredible arse, which makes you all worthwhile? He was sorely tempted. They were still waiting. "To new beginnings," he said. "Happy Christmas."

Everyone took a drink. Little Rose sputtered a little and Lily giggled, not unkindly. They nudged each other. Harry started them passing the food, and for awhile there was nothing but eating and drinking.

"Ron," Harry called, "I've still got your wizard's chess set from school upstairs. Let's have a rematch."

"I suppose you've been practicing with Snape," Ron said. He was only a little stiff about it.

"I'm not very good at chess," Severus admitted. "I can't offer much of a game."

"Darts, that was always your game," Lucius said. "Wasn't it? It's a game of throwing sharp things at a target, Scorpius." Of course, the young Malfoys were too pureblooded to know what darts was.

"I'll give you a game of darts," George Weasley offered. He'd become a very quiet man, but sometimes his old sly humour bubbled up. "As long as you'll let me stand behind you, Professor."

Severus winced inwardly. Harry squeezed his thigh under the table and said, "Great, then. I think Ginny has rather good aim as well."

"Yes, we'll both play, Professor," Draco said.

"Good, that's you lot sorted," Minerva said in an undertone to Hermione, who grinned.

Ginny won the first round of darts, which seemed to irritate Lucius more than Draco. Severus had not been concentrating fully; he had been half-watching Harry and also half-watching Albus and Scorpius, who stood to the side watching the darts intently. Both children were moderately talented Seekers, and Severus did not entirely trust either not to try to pluck a dart out of the air mid-throw. James, Hugo, Lily and Rose preferred to play chess -- the boys teamed against the girls in a long and close match.

Teddy joined the darts players in the second round. His tosses were erratic: some were perfectly thrown, while others were clumsily misdirected. Ignoring both Harry and Albus, Severus pulled his focus in and scored several points more than Ginny, who attempted to be gracious in losing and shook his hand. He would not have minded outright hostility from her. He was sorry to see her anger directed alternately at Harry and her mother, each of whom she snapped at about trivial matters, whether the soup tureen should be soaked and where had Lily lost her hair ribbons.

"Is it time for gifts yet?" Narcissa asked brightly, pulling herself away from a conversation with Hermione whose subject Severus couldn't imagine. Ron and Harry appeared to be hopelessly deadlocked at chess, while James and Hugo couldn't agree what their next move should be and Rose was insisting that they forfeit since they had taken too long to decide.

"Wait until you see what I've made for each of you," Molly said in a tone of great satisfaction.

"Think it's another jumper?" Teddy whispered to Albus, elbowing him good-naturedly.

The gifts were not jumpers. They were heavy Quidditch gloves and matching socks in each child's House colors. All the adults got a large jar of jam, including Draco and each of his parents. Severus' was rosehip and apple, and it had a green ribbon; he was surprisingly pleased to receive it. Harry went suspiciously pink and left the room for a moment.

"Thanks, Mum," Ginny said.

"Your grandmother was the first person ever to give me a Christmas present," Harry told Lily in a low voice.

"I know, Dad," she said.

"I made you a scarf, also, Harry," Molly said. "I know you are all too old for the jumpers, but Harry...needs a bit of looking after. "

"Mum," Ginny said through her teeth.

Harry made some coded marital gesture with his eyebrows, and she calmed down a little. He put his arm around Molly Weasley and kissed her on the cheek and said something in a low voice.

Minerva handed round tins of shortbread. Severus had made everyone small bottles of potion: bruise-healing paste for the children and calming draught for the adults. It was the same thing they both had given their colleagues at Hogwarts.

Then Narcissa brought out her boxes. Each of the adults received a rare quill and ink set in a leather case. Severus believed his own to be a roc feather, and recognized the ink as containing lazurite. Harry's quill and ink were both cinnabar red.

The packages for the children were much larger. Each contained an Invisibility Cloak.

Arthur went red in the face, sputtering, "You can't give such things to children! Not only are they restricted..."

"It's the best present ever!" Hugo was racing across the room. Half his body was missing where the folds of the cloak flapped around him.

"They can't take them to school," Percy said in a haughty voice. "Can you imagine the rules they would break?" Harry, Ron and Hermione were all silent, staring alternately at the floor and one another. Harry looked suspiciously as though he might begin to laugh.

Striding over to Lily, Molly attempted to wrestle the cloak from atop her head, where the little girl had twisted it like a turban, making everything above her eyes disappear. "Give me that! This is extremely generous of you, Lucius, Narcissa, but you must realize that the children cannot possibly..."

"Harry and I can make decisions for our own children, thank you, Mother," Ginny announced. James and Albus had disappeared entirely, having built a sort of tent around themselves with their cloaks and crouched down to fit inside.

"Don't worry, Ginny," Hermione said. "These cloaks won't hold up the way Harry's has."

Ginny clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes, threw up her hands in a gesture reminiscent of Molly, and stalked out of the room.

Harry sank into a chair. "Can we take them to school, Daddy?" Lily asked.

"I might need to think about that," Harry said. "As I'm teaching there."

"They're technically permitted," Minerva said. "At least, there's precedent to allow them."

Severus began to laugh. The room seemed to quiet. Molly Weasley was dabbing at her eyes. She was looking at Harry, who was smiling like a damned fool.

"What?" Severus inquired.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"Who knew you could laugh like that?" Minerva chuckled. "That's really --"

"Sexy!" George Weasley put in, leering.

"What's wrong now?" Ginny asked her mother, having come back in holding a drink.

"You aren't ever getting back together, are you?"

"No," Ginny replied, but her voice was gentle.

"I see that," her mother sniffled. Briskly, she tucked away her handkerchief and turned back to the children. "Albus and James, come out from under there!" she commanded.

It was Scorpius's head that popped out first, followed by James and then Albus. "Can't we stay under here and play chess?" the fair-haired boy asked. He offered Molly a charming smile.

Lucius's smile was a mirror of his grandson's. "How nice to see them all getting along," he said smoothly.

"We haven't given you our presents." Draco had summoned a set of packages. "I don't know about the rest of you but I could use some of this." He had brought each of the adults a very fine bottle of wine from the vineyards on the Malfoy family estate in France. Ginny had provided charmed sleeves, weightless, to keep the bottles at their ideal temperatures.

Teddy had brought gifts only for the children -- Pygmy Puffs for the girls, snails for the boys, each in appropriate containers with a supply of food donated, he said, by Uncle George. George had also brought elaborate decorative candles for the adults that changed their color and shape as they were exposed to flame. Severus received one that looked like a fire crab.

"I had a really hard time coming up with gifts this year," Harry said.

Immediately everyone in the room began to speak. "You know there's no need, dear," Molly assured him.

"It's quite enough that you've played host to all of us," added Hermione. Draco and Lucius both looked relieved.

"Still, I didn't want to send people home empty-handed." Severus looked at him curiously. Whatever Harry had got up to, he had done it without asking for advice or assistance. Looking a bit sheepish, he pulled out a Muggle camera. "I knew I'd want to remember today, and I hoped everyone else would, too. So I have a folding frame for everybody, and if you could all come stand by the tree?"

Reluctant to stand next to each other, the guests clumped and reassembled until they formed a group with the taller ones in back and the smaller children in the front. Harry put the camera on a tripod.

Severus stood off to the side, waiting. Harry took his hand and steered him into the group. "Here, you'll stand by me," he said.

"I don't look good in photographs," Severus said.

Harry gave him the Lily Evans patented green glare. "I want my children to have a photo of everyone who is important to them."

"But surely I'm not --" Severus began, but then he shut up. All three Potter children were smiling at him.

"He always says that," Lily said.

Severus stood in the back between Lucius and Arthur, with Harry standing in front of him. At the last moment, Harry pulled one of Severus's arms around his waist, and the flash went off.

The camera spat out a single sheet upon which an image slowly coalesced. Such cameras had not existed for Muggles or wizards when Severus was very young, and it still seemed like magic to him that the photos developed instantaneously. Harry used a spell to replicate the photograph and nearly two dozen small silver frames flapped over, popping open to admit the pictures, then folding neatly against a mirrored side into neat flat squares.

"Cake, then," Molly said briskly, marching the children off to the kitchen while yanking an Invisibility Cloak from Hugo's head. Severus followed them without prompting. He hoped there wouldn't be a silly game to find the silvered almond or whatever it was that meant someone was supposed to get married, but Molly's cakes were worth that risk. Harry's sweet tooth must have been rubbing off on him.

Harry caught up with him in the kitchen, holding a plate dripping over the edges with buttercream icing. He also had a bit of buttercream on his nose. Had they been alone, Severus would have licked it off, and then they would likely have made love in the kitchen despite Severus's protests of discomfort.

Since they were not alone, he contented himself with wiping off Harry's nose with his finger and licking the finger clean. Harry's pupils dilated watching him. "Maybe Molly will leave the extra icing," Harry whispered.

"Whatever could you have in mind?" Severus smirked.

"I can't discuss it now -- there are children present, and ex-wives and Malfoys." Harry looked pleased with himself. Severus glanced over to see Lucius eating Molly's cake with relish. "But eventually everyone's got to go home."

Eventually, they did go home. Molly surprised him by kissing him on the cheek. Minerva left him another bottle of the excellent whisky. The children all shook his hand and Albus kissed him goodbye. That last was a bit of a shock, as he had never kissed a man on the cheek when he was a lad, but apparently Harry's children always kissed their father, so Albus thought he ought to kiss Severus as well.

The last of Potters and Weasleys and Malfoys straggled out the door and left Harry beaming at him stupidly.

"What did you say to Lucius?" Harry asked. "Why didn't he goad Arthur again?"

"Nothing. Why are you laughing?" Severus swallowed a smile. "I might have reminded him what happened the last time."

"He has a bad temper, my father-in -- I mean, my ex -- Arthur has a bad --"

"Don't worry about it so much." Severus put a hand on his shoulder.

"That isn't something I ever thought I'd hear you say."

"Life is complicated, and I have excellent buttercream to lick off your naked torso."

Harry smiled again. "Everyone had a good time, didn't they? And the children all get along. And Draco's grown up a bit, finally. And his mum and Molly..."

"Quiet." Severus was unbuttoning Harry's shirt. It had been a pleasant enough meal, particularly the sweets and Minerva's whisky, but such gatherings always became tedious, and Severus had had enough domesticity for the week. It was easy enough to silence Harry with his mouth, but he couldn't kiss Harry and march him upstairs at the same time, even with the bowl of icing floating behind them. "Bedroom."

"Yes, Professor." Harry took over the task of unbuttoning as they climbed the stairs as Severus allowed pieces of his own clothing to fall away. "Did you ask Molly to leave the icing? Or were we just lucky?"

"I used my powers of suggestion."

"You sweet-talked Molly Weasley? Severus, I'm surprised at you."

"Of course not. I used the Imperius curse."

In the bedroom doorway, Harry whirled. "You didn't!" He looked as though he couldn't decide whether to be amused or aghast. Severus laughed at him, and Harry blushed sheepishly. "You didn't."

Severus could not resist Harry blushing. He kissed him again, rubbing his hard prick against Harry's hip. "Now will you be quiet and get on the bed?"

Harry grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled them down together. He frotted against Severus' thigh. "Mmm," he said. "I got hard when you started laughing like that, in front of everyone."

Severus licked his neck, and murmured into it, "You're distracting me." He pushed the shirt over Harry's shoulders, and then pulled off his vest underneath. "Better," he said. He undid the belt holding up Harry's trousers, pretending to ignore the impatient thrust of his hips. He took off all of Harry's clothing, a piece at a time, while Harry panted. "You'd best hold the headboard," he told Harry, who complied.

He put his hand on his wand to get the bowl of buttercream to hover next to him, and used the spatula to paint Harry's nipples with it. He paused to look at his handiwork before he bent his head and licked the sugary unctuous stuff. He was thorough. It was always best to be thorough.

"You're making a lot of noise," he observed.

"Kiss me, then," Harry said. "That's sure to --" he gasped as Severus swiped his tongue over the buttercreamed left nipple, and then groaned when he shared the taste of chocolate by licking it over Harry's eager tongue.

The icing had thickened in the air and its sugar was beginning to crystallize. It clung in sticky clumps to Harry's armpit hair before his body heat began to warm it, making a thick paste that oozed slowly down his side. "Tickles," gasped Harry, twisting helplessly, still clinging to the headboard as Severus licked the softening sweetness away. "Please. Want more..."

He might have meant more kissing, but Severus was busy swiping buttercream into his pubic hair. He licked and sucked it away, mouth brushing Harry's cock.

Did chocolate buttercream go with arse? In Severus's experience there was little that Harry's arse did not improve, and he let the spatula slip around Harry's balls, between the buttocks that lifted as Harry raised his legs, bending his knees. "You had better intend to clean that up," Harry said with a shiver. Severus did, sucking each testicle into his mouth in turn, then licking through the furrow and around and around the hole.

"God, fuck, Severus, fuck me already, please!"

"I think it's your turn," Severus smirked.

"I'm giving it to you! Consider it your Christmas present."

"Does that mean you didn't buy me an engraved cock ring?"

Harry stopped writhing and looked down at him. "If I gave you a ring, would you wear it? Not a cock ring. A real --"

But Severus wouldn't let him finish. He couldn't answer that question now, his head clouded with whisky and lust. He began to slick his cock with the buttercream.

"What are you doing? You can't fuck me with that," Harry said.

"I don't plan to," Severus said, and straddled his face. Harry gamely began to lick and suck the sweet chocolate off the head, and then the shaft. He pulled Severus deep into his throat. This was a long-standing game with them -- Harry would suck him to the edge, until Severus was so close to coming that he would tell Harry he wanted to fuck him.

Severus looked down into those beautiful eyes, and saw that they were tearing. He pulled back. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Harry gasped, and tried to suck him some more.

"If I've bruised your throat you aren't --"

"It's not my --" he was really weeping and pretending not to be. Severus got off him and pulled him up. "Sorry, I've spoiled -- didn't mean to spoil the mood --"

"Whatever is the matter?"

Harry waved a hand over his face and tried to get his mouth down to suck Severus again.

"Harry, come on. Harry."

"I'm sentimental and I've had too much to drink," he said. "I just want you to always be mine, and never leave."

"You are sentimental," Severus said. "And foolish."

"And fond."

"Foolish and fond, that's right," Severus said, "and so am I."

Harry sat up and pulled a box out from under the pillow. "Happy Christmas."

"Accio parcel," Severus said, and then, holding it, "This wasn't how I planned this."

Harry studied Severus's box. It was obviously too large to hold a ring, unless the ring was inside several layers of packing. Severus thought that Harry was steeling his expression not to look disappointed.

The box from Harry, however, was very small. If it did not hold a ring, Severus could not imagine what it might enclose besides a vial containing memories for a Pensieve.

Opening the box, Severus pushed apart the flimsy paper and looked inside. He felt an odd pang at the discovery that it did not contain a ring after all, though the bright glint of gold caught his eye.

The box contained a medal. The Order of Merlin, First Class.

"Where did you get this?" he asked sharply. "Is it yours?"

Harry shook his head. "They never gave me one. Well -- they tried but by then I'd had enough of the Chosen One business. This one is yours. I asked if I could be the one to give it to you."

Severus felt a tightness in his throat. It was like the first meeting after his return with Minerva, when he had arrived expecting to be the object of her scorn and her first words had been, "Severus, I'm so sorry."

He held the box out to Harry, "I didn't earn this. I don't..."

"Yes, you did. They want -- I want you to have it."

He shook his head. "You are foolish. Open what I gave you."

"Is it a cock ring?" Harry waited to see if he would laugh, but he was still looking at the medal.

He looked up. Harry had opened the box. "These are the papers to register for a civil partnership."

"I hope I didn't presume too much."

"You've got rings in here, too, in the smaller box..."

Severus couldn't help laughing. Harry was so surprised. "Well, we're generally civil to each other."

"You, you --"

"What?"

"I love you so much, you wanker."

"That's quite civil."

But Harry had launched himself across the bed and was kissing him again. "Now we must fuck like rabbits."

"Don't you even want to sign the papers first?"

"No. Consummate first, engagement after." There was still a streak of buttercream across Severus's thigh. Harry bent down to lick it. "I'll even fuck you, if you insist."

"After offering me your arse as a Christmas present? You can't think I'm going to give that up in exchange for a Ministry medal." Harry's mouth moved back to Severus's cock, sliding over the head and moving the foreskin up and down. "I will fuck you, then we can sign the papers, and then if I am still awake and my aging libido has not shut down for the duration of the evening..."

Harry was laughing, eyes still suspiciously bright. "And you tell me to be quiet," he said, leaning up to kiss Severus before flinging himself down against the pillows and raising his legs again. "Love me."

Severus reached for proper lube. "I already told you that I do."

"You did, but your prick hasn't for hours."

"You persist," Severus said, pausing to look at the beauty of Harry's body spread for him, for him, "in thinking of sex as making love." He positioned himself, relishing the moment of fitting the head of his cock into the ring of muscle, slowly, teasing himself, teasing Harry.

Then he thrust his cock into the tight velvety heat of Harry's arse, and watched Harry's eyes roll upward in pleasure. He pulled back and thrust into him again and again.

"The way you do it," Harry managed to say as he grunted in extremis, "that's what it is."

Each push brought him closer. This was something that Severus could do for the rest of his life: watch the flush of Harry's skin, listen to his barely suppressed groans, feel the eager grab of his body. Burying his cock in Harry's arse, he could feel the delicious particularity of this body, of this Harry, who was all his. Harry was pulling him closer and Severus felt him tremble, sigh, convulse, come and come and come.

The sensation of the warm spunk on his own belly sent Severus over the edge, and he thrust wildly and said Harry's name and came. Then it was hard to breathe, for a minute, with Harry shaking beneath him with what might have been laughter or weeping.

"You didn't actually say yes," Severus pointed out when he had swallowed whatever was blocking his throat. Harry's fingers were digging into his shoulder blades and one knee was pressing against Severus's side. Squirming might have dislodged his cock from inside Harry, so Severus tried to keep still.

"You didn't actually ask," countered Harry, who for once wasn't crying. "Marry me."

"It isn't technically..."

"Then live with me forever and be foolish and fond with me. By which I mean yes, I want to be your civil partner." Harry shifted around so he could kiss Severus, causing Severus's cock to slip out in a wet rush. "And you can fuck me or make love to me as often as you want."

Severus kissed him back. "I suppose we'll have to tell your family."

He had not meant to be witty, but Harry laughed and laughed, wiping his eyes. "Oh! I suppose so, yes. It might be considered polite to tell my children. In fact, we might need to have another party."

"But not a wedding."

Harry laughed harder.

"Harry, not a wedding with those -- you always get what you want, don't you?"

Harry's smile was foolish and fond. "Yes."