Pains and Contradictions Ch. 32
Title: Pains and Contradictions Ch. 32
Author: atypicalsnowman
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Harry is 17, and this story is AU after Book 5.
Disclaimer I'm not JK Rowling and these characters are, sadly, not mine.
Summary: When Harry begins to break under the pressures of death and prophesy, help arrives from an unlikely quarter: Snape. Despite their own doubts, manipulations from all sides and hapless interventions combine to bring their two souls together.
A/N: Thanks to Torina for looking over the chapter for plot and to shoebox for the beta. I'm very sorry this chapter is so late. My entire life changed in the last month. I got a new job, new apartment and new lifestyle. I'm a daywalker now, and I've had to adjust myself to a new writing schedule. So while my goal will still be two weeks per chapter, I also want to take the time to do them correctly. These next few chapters have been in my head for over two years now. It's amazing to finally be able to write them, and I just want to get them right.
Please be patient with me. We're so near the end, I can taste it. Thank you all so much for sticking with me.
*
“Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.” Excerpt from Frank Herbert’s Dune.
“The attacks have stopped.”
Harry bit his nail and said nothing, keeping his eyes on Dumbledore’s desk as Moody began to speak. He forced himself not to meet Severus’ gaze, and could feel Remus’ eyes boring a hole in the back of his neck
“Yes,” Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes focusing on some bauble in front of him rather than the man speaking. “I believe we’ve reached a turning point.”
Harry watched as Moody and Kingsley looked at each other from the corner of his eye, and he felt his heart race faster. He knew why the attacks had stopped. Severus had told Remus and Dumbledore what had happened with Malfoy, and Harry had been on the verge of panic since that night.
The night Severus had made the move that would either win the war or damn both himself and Harry to places he couldn’t bear to think about. There’d been no need for Severus to explain why he’d done it; Harry wasn’t an idiot. They’d been stuck, and Severus was clever enough to see a way out. But there was a fear growing in Harry, not only for his life and the lives of others. Severus’ confession might jeopardize whatever future they might have after the war was won.
Malfoy would tell Voldemort, would who tell his Death Eaters, who would tell...
Everyone.
Harry tasted blood and looked at his finger. He wiped it on his shirt and started chewing another one.
“You’re not surprised by this, Dumbledore,” Kingsley stated, no question in his tone, and Harry could feel his eyes on him even as he attempted to blend into the wall. “I realize you have your own eyes and ears, but we don’t know what to make of this.”
“Except that he’s gathering his followers close to him,” Moody said. Harry looked up then, just in time to see Moody’s false eye focus on him. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I don’t like being shut out. Especially when I’m the one on the front line.”
“I believe it’s obvious what’s happened.” Harry watched as Dumbledore, his expression blank, steepled his fingers and looked closely at Kingsley and Moody. “He’s gathering his forces, focusing on a real attack.”
“But why?” Moody asked with a growl. “Why now? What’s happened?”
“Did you want the attacks to continue?” Severus asked, his tone light and mocking, and Harry struggled as he tried to look at Severus without really looking at him. “Perhaps I’m mistaken, but I assumed the absence of violence to be a good thing.”
And it was a good thing, Harry though, except that they all knew what it meant.
Harry watched as Moody held back some insult, his face twisted in anger at Severus’ snide remark. He swallowed whatever he was about to say, and instead turned one eye on Harry and the other on Severus. “I’ve been hearing things, Snape. Murmurs about you and...”
Both eyes focused on Harry, and he struggled to appear innocent, to not allow his face to redden and his eyes to drop to the floor. He met Moody’s gaze dead-on, but he felt his heart begin to beat madly in his chest and clenched his fists as fear began to take over.
“Oh?” Severus asked, his voice caring a threat. “And what murmurs might those be?”
Kingsley laid a hand on Moody’s forearm and said, “Ridiculous rumors, whispered by people whom I wouldn’t trust with a knut. Nothing worth mentioning.” He turned a glare on Moody, then returned his attention to Dumbledore.
“I’m going to send the students home early,” Dumbledore said, ignoring Moody’s words and picking up a quill to pen a quick message. “It’s two extra weeks of holiday for them, and they’ll be safer in their homes than they would be here.”
Biting down on his nail, Harry struggled to ignore Severus’ growing concern through the bond. He tried to control his fear, but he couldn’t help the way his heart was beating, how his body had broken out in a cold sweat. He’d known it was coming down to this, that this is what they’d been waiting for, hoping for even. But knowing that it was coming, coming in a matter of days ...
“I want everyone loyal to our cause stationed at the castle,” Dumbledore told Moody, “as soon as possible.”
“Albus,” Moody said, “what happened? Why is all this happening now?” He looked directly at Harry, and this time Harry couldn’t help the expression of absolute terror that settled on his face.
“Alastor,” Dumbledore said, sitting up in his chair and drawing Moody’s attention back on himself, “get your people to Hogwarts. Tonight.” It was a clear dismissal, and Moody and Kingsley stood to go, even as they both kept their eyes on Harry before they turned.
Silence pervaded as the door closed, and Severus stood and came to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.
He shook it off.
He wasn’t angry at Severus, not exactly. But he couldn’t bear to be touched; not then, not in a room with two other people. Not when he felt as though he was moments from giving himself away. A terrible dread fell over him, covering him like a blanket so he could barely breathe. It was as though all the air in the room had been removed, leaving him to choke on his fear.
He must have been doing a decent job of hiding his emotions because Remus said, “Harry, Severus did what he had to do-”
“Keep your nose out of other people’s business, Lupin,” Severus said as he stood behind Harry, not touching him but not leaving all the same.
Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair. “We’re as prepared as we’re going to be. We’ll continue our practices until the day comes, and I believe it will be soon.”
Harry’s hands were shaking, and he lifted one to adjust his glasses, leaving a smudge of blood on the lenses. The murmured cleaning spell Severus cast went unacknowledged. He didn’t know what to say to him that hadn’t already been said. He knew it had been necessary, that something had been needed and Malfoy had just been in the right place at the right time.
But did it have to be this?
“What’s going to happen now?” Harry asked to no one in particular.
“It’s late,” Dumbledore said, casting Tempus and turning to look at the three men by his side. “The students will leave first thing in the morning. As soon as they’re gone-”
“No,” Harry said, and he could feel Severus’ eyes on him. “I mean if everyone finds out. About me and Severus. What will happen to him?”
The hand was again placed on his shoulder, and Harry again shook it off, battling the fear that was threatening to overtake him.
“These attacks have rendered the Ministry powerless at the moment, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “Whatever happens, it won’t happen until later. We have more pressing matter to attend to at the moment.”
Harry bit his lip and scoffed. “Maybe you think we won’t survive-”
Dumbledore shook his head “Harry-”
“But I’m planning on it. I don’t want to be expelled or have my bond-mate punished over something we didn’t have any control over.”
“Harry, I promise,” Dumbledore said, “If it comes to that-and I don’t believe it will-I will protect you with all my power and influence. I won’t see Severus punished. I swear.”
But Dumbledore’s promises meant little to Harry. With the briefest of nods, he stood and walked out the door, listening for the footsteps that followed him before he started down the staircase.
*
Harry couldn’t help but wonder if the Great Hall had been this silent before he’d entered the room or if it’d gone quiet after he stepped inside. He straightened his back and squared his shoulders, nearly every eye turning to him as he walked towards the Gryffindor table, trying and failing to ignore the anxiety growing within him.
It had been a long night. Severus had seemed to sense that Harry hadn’t wanted to talk, hadn’t wanted comfort, hadn’t wanted anything really except to go to sleep. As he woke, he felt the fear he was fighting threaten to overtake him, and he so wanted to lean into Severus’ warm embrace. A part of him wanted nothing more than to take the strength Severus was offering, allow himself to be comforted and face what was coming. But as much as he needed Severus, the need to hold himself together was far greater. He needed to be strong. They were almost at the end, and he couldn’t falter now.
He kept his footsteps straight, even when he saw the Slytherins look at him curiously and start to whisper, the other houses joining them a moment later.
He ignored them and smiled at Hermione, before he stopped.
It was Hermione’s false smile and her obvious attempt at summoning bravery when she motioned to him to sit next to her that told him what he’d feared had happened.
Everyone knew.
“Good morning,” she said, her tone painfully casual. “Did you sleep well?”
No one was talking. The entire Gryffindor table seemed to be listening for his response, as though he’d actually answer their unvoiced question.
“Yeah, fine.” He concentrated on the toast Hermione thrust at him and forced himself not look at Severus at the Head Table. “When’s the train leaving?”
“In an hour,” she said, her spoon making little clanging noises as she hit it against the side of her bowl. She bit her lip and met Neville’s eyes from across the table before steeling herself as she addressed Harry. “I won’t be on it, Harry. Neither will Neville, or Seamus and Dean. Quite a few us are staying.”
Harry’s eyes closed of their own volition as his breath was stolen from him, and he said nothing for a moment; pieces of toast got stuck under his nail as he ground it into bits. He’d spent so much energy worrying over Severus that he hadn’t even considered this as a possibility. The idea that his friends and classmates might stay, might actually go out to meet Death Eaters...
“What?” he said, his voice carrying across the room like a shout in all the silence. He saw Severus look up from his breakfast out of the corner of his eye.
“We’re not leaving, Harry,” she said softly, and this time she did look at him. Her gaze was sorrowful as she looked to Neville, then back towards him. In a lowered voice, she said, “This is our fight, too. We can’t just leave-”
He stood up, cutting her off and motioning for her to follow him outside. He couldn’t think about this, it wasn’t possible. In all his thoughts on how this last battle would play out, in all his fears over Severus dying, he never thought he’d have to worry about his friends.
As soon as the doors were closed, he said, “You can’t stay here. You know what’s going to happen.”
She bit her lip and seemed to struggle with what to say, as if she could sense that Harry was nearing the end of his rope and didn’t want to push him further. “Harry, this isn’t just your fight-”
“But it’s not yours either!” he shouted, trying to will her to understand that she couldn’t stay. None of them could. Defense classes and the DA were one thing, but he doubted any of them could possibly be prepared for what was coming. “Hermione, if something were to happen to you, I couldn’t bear it. You have to leave, and you have to convince everyone else to leave with you.”
Frowning, she said, “I can’t do that. And it’s not only Gryffindors staying, it’s students from every house. You don’t get to decide who gets to fight and who doesn’t.”
He shook his head, even as he heard soft footsteps approach from behind, lingering in the shadows.
“Hermione, please,” he begged, “I just got you back. Please don’t do this. I wouldn’t be able to-”
“They killed Ron!” she shouted, losing whatever battle she’d been waging over her own emotions. Her face turned red and her eyes began to shine, and suddenly that one great loss returned to Harry like a flood. “They killed him, Harry. He’s dead. If anyone has the right to be there, it’s me, and don’t you dare think you can stop me!”
Harry was shocked into silence, and he was forced to remember that he wasn’t the only person to lose someone to Voldemort. As much as he wanted to beg her to leave, needed to know that she’d be safe, he nodded his head and used every ounce of his strength to remain silent.
A moment later the doors opened, and the students began filing out. He kept his eyes on Hermione as his ears picked up words whispered just loud enough for him to hear: Snape, Potter, Death Eater, DMLE, fucking. Hermione shook her head and forced a smile, and Harry never wanted to hug her more than in that moment.
“Once the younger years leave the rest of us are going to practice our dueling in the common room. Will you come?”
Harry nodded and watched as she was swept away with the crowd, leaving him to watch them go, wondering what would happen to all of them. The rush of adrenaline that had come from Hermione’s announcement now gone, Harry was left feeling chilled to the bone. He stood in the center of the hall, his gaze drawn to windows revealing a dull light from outside. The freezing air snuck through his robes, stealing his warmth and covering him in the cold. He put his arms around himself, not caring if he looked like he was trying to make himself as small as possible.
The footsteps from earlier made a reappearance, but Harry couldn’t turn around, not now, not when he felt so raw, so exposed.
Severus put a hand on his shoulder, and he allowed it to linger for a moment, wanting nothing more than to step back into Severus’ warmth.
He closed his eyes and shook it off. “Not now.”
“Harry...”
“Don’t mind being seen with me now that everyone knows?”
“Everyone does not know,” Severus said, standing at Harry’s side. “Everyone suspects, but that is hardly the same thing. They know nothing.”
Harry didn’t really see the difference, but he didn’t have the strength to fight. Not right now, not when all of this seemed to be happening at once.
His right side grew warm as Severus attempted to comfort him, putting an arm across his shoulder. Not wanting to hurt Severus, he whispered, “Please. Please not now. I don’t think I could make it through the day if...”
Severus removed his arm and whispered, “Soon.”
Harry nodded, and went to join the other Gryffindors for dueling practice.
*
“Ah!”
Harry couldn’t help the cry of pain as he was knocked onto his arse for the third time that night. Dumbledore stood over him, his normally kind features twisted into a frown.
“You’re not concentrating.”
Harry panted and stood up, wincing at the pain in his lower back and shoulder. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t focus on their dueling sessions. Not when he knew Severus was just in the other room, lying on the sofa, waiting to be drained. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when it might be tomorrow that he would have to take so much from Severus for the real battle.
Dumbledore sighed and paced the room.
“I understand that you’re concerned for Severus, Harry, but you do realize that he would be the first person to suffer if you fail?”
Harry scoffed and looked at his shoes. As if he didn’t know that. As if that fact hadn’t been repeated to him every single time they had one of these practices. That didn’t make it any easier, didn’t make him feel Severus’ pain any less. Didn’t help him forget that Voldemort could attack at any time.
Frustration
He ran a hand through his hair and he could almost feel Severus agreeing with Dumbledore, even if there was no way he could be privy to the conversation. He’d avoided Severus all day, helping the Gryffindors and a few others with their dueling techniques, hating that it was necessary but wanting to help them as much as he could.
And as much as he wanted to go to Severus, he didn’t know how he could be with him and not give in to his fear. It was the worse sort of conflict, wanting something so badly but knowing you shouldn’t have it.
Thoughts of Severus and what might possibly happen were running through his mind when he suddenly he felt a tugging. He quickly stifled a gasp as he felt some invisible string that connected him to Severus begin to pull him, softly at first, then with more urgency.
“I know this is frustrating for you, Harry,” Dumbledore said, but Harry was only half-listening. The pulling became insistent, almost like he could feel Severus grabbing his arm. “I can’t begin to imagine how you feel right now, but you must concentrate. It isn’t only your lives that hang in the balance.”
Harry closed his eyes as he began to feel a war waging inside him. A part of him wanted to respond to Severus’ call, go to their rooms and have the argument that had been brewing for days. But as much as he wanted that, he knew that Voldemort could attack at any time. He felt his body struggling not to give into exhaustion as he forced himself to keep steady.
“You have no idea what this is like,” Harry muttered, trying to keep his mind here, in this room, and not with Severus.
Dumbledore’s eyes softened and he sighed, letting the hand that held his wand fall to his side. He opened his mouth as though he was about to speak, then paused. Shaking his head, he looked up and said, “I was in love once too, Harry. In a time of war...” he drifted off and Harry couldn’t help but listen. He’d never heard Dumbledore speak a word about his life before, and the terrible sadness that swept over him made him seem so much older.
“It is my deepest wish that you have the happiness that was denied to us,” Dumbledore said sadly, his expression twisted in grief.
Harry had no idea what to say to that, and tried to ignore the frantic tugging from Severus as he struggled with his words.
“I’m sorry,” he said, biting his lip and rubbing his shoulder for want of something to do with his hands. “What was her name?”
Dumbledore smiled sadly, as if he was bringing her face to memory, and said, “Gellert.”
Harry’s eyes widened a fraction as he processed that information, nodding even as he realized that he and Dumbledore-and Severus-had something in common, before he gasped and looked Dumbledore in the eyes as he realized the importance of that name.
“Gellert?”
Dumbledore nodded, and silence pervaded for a moment as Harry began to fathom what he’d just been told. “I don’t take these things I ask of you lightly, Harry. I understand what I’m asking, of both you and Severus. I wanted you to know...I do not wish to be heartless.”
Harry struggled to take a deep breath and he couldn’t help how his hands were clenched, at how his entire body was shaking, not only from the information he’d just learned but from the idea that he and Dumbledore might soon have something else in common.
It was very likely that he’d lose Severus the same way Dumbledore had lost Grindelwald.
“I...have to go,” he said, feeling Severus pulling at him as though he was physically in the room. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, perhaps it would be best to end our session. I believe it will be our last,” he said, tucking his wand into his robe. “Perhaps it’s time for you to go to Severus?”
Harry nodded, turning around swiftly to exit the room, the cold winter air biting at him as he stepped into the hall. He tugged his robe around him, his pace quickening, knowing he had to get to Severus, feeling as though he was about to slip through his fingers.
He walked with long steps, then broke out into a run, not knowing why he was running when he knew Severus was safe in the dungeons, but no longer able to hold his fear back, feeling as though the world was closing in on him.
His harsh gasps for air left his lungs feeling cold, and he hardly cared about the remaining students lingering in the halls, or how it was very likely that every Slytherin who’d stayed behind saw him as he ran into Severus’ rooms as though he belonged there.
With a firm thrust, he closed the door behind him, only to see an angry Severus stalking towards him as he turned.
Grabbing his collar and thrusting him against the door, Severus pulled Harry to him and hissed, “This ends now, Potter! I can’t stand another minute of you sulking around our rooms, not letting me touch you when I know you-”
Harry cut him off with a desperate kiss, his own hands snaking through Severus’ robes to feel his heart beat, needing to know Severus was still here, was still alive, even if it was only today.
His fingers fumbled as he tried to unbutton the multitude of buttons on Severus’ vest, his breaths coming out in gasps before he gave into frustration and pulled the vest in two, dozens of button casualties falling to the floor.
“Harry-”
He wrapped his arms around Severus’ chest and let himself listen to his heartbeat. A sob pulled from him erupted as his fear bubbled up from inside him, coming out now, finally, in Severus’ embrace.
Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him up so Severus could look at his face. Harry tried to keep his eyes on the ground, not wanting Severus to see him like this, knowing that he couldn’t bear to look into his eyes and have all his weakness blasted open.
“Harry,” Severus said, his hands grasping at Harry’s face, pulling at his hair, “Harry, look at me!”
Harry did, and he felt his heart ache at the look in Severus’ eyes. The fear he felt crashed upon him all at once, choking him as he realized this could be one of the last times he’d ever look at the person he loved.
“I can’t...” he whispered, shaking his head.
“Look at me, Harry,” Severus said, his tone stern but his voice soft. “It is normal to fear death-”
“It’s not my death I’m afraid of! I’m afraid of losing you!” His body shook with the force of his fear, and he threw himself onto Severus, stifling his sobs with a kiss. Severus gasped as he leaned backward, catching Harry and leaning against the sofa before he began moving them towards the bedroom.
On some level Harry knew his fear that had brought him to this. That the dread he’d been feeling since that night with Malfoy was now bursting out of him at the thought of losing Severus on the battlefield, or worse, later to the Wizengamot.
“Harry, listen to me,” Severus said as he lowered Harry to the bed. As his panic welled up within him, Harry grasped at Severus, needing his touch after having denying himself for too long. His legs scrambled to pull Severus down on top of him, and his hands grasped at his back. He didn’t know what he wanted, aside from knowing that he wanted Severus. Though he could feel him with hands, lips, legs, it felt as though Severus was slipping away.
“I can’t lose you,” Harry said in a whispered hiss, his lips still seeking Severus’, only to find him pulling back.
Suddenly Harry let out a gasp as Severus sank down on him, all the air rushing out of him as Severus’ full weight landed on his chest and stomach. Long-fingered hands grabbed his face and Harry was forced to face his fear.
Pain
Regret
Severus sighed, then paused before he spoke. “Do you want me to promise I’ll survive? Do you want me to lie to you?” he asked, and Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the truth. “I won’t do that. Harry, stop being ridiculous and look at me!”
Harry did, looking up in time to see something soften in Severus’ gaze. He loosened his grip on Harry’s face, his fingers wandering over Harry’s lips as his mind seemed to wander.
“I have no desire to die. If I have to sacrifice myself I will, but I promise you this...” he waited until Harry was looking at him before he said, “I won’t leave you if I can help it. Not again. I swear it.”
A sob escaped Harry’s throat before he could help it, and he took Severus’ face in his hands. “That’s the best I’m going to get, isn’t it?”
Severus remained silent, his unspoken response coming loud and clear. The quiet strength that came from Severus allowed Harry to pause, and he realized that his fear was attempting to rob him of this moment.
That was something he couldn’t allow. Not when his moments with Severus could be coming to an end.
Quieting his breaths, he nodded and said, “All right.”
“All right,” Severus repeated, then said, “As for right now, I don’t know how long we have, but I’m here at the moment. Perhaps we should enjoy ourselves, regardless of what may happen?”
Harry nodded, and pushed the fear away as Severus’ lips met his own. His stifled breath was concealed by Severus’ kisses as clothing was slowly removed, Severus’ body never moving too far away from his own. Hands took special care to caress every part of Harry as Severus pulled off his shoes and trousers, as his shirt was lifted above his head.
“You’re hurt,” Severus said, inspecting the bruises on Harry’s shoulders and back. “I have a salve that can heal this.”
“Later,” Harry said, knowing that he needed this far more than he needed his bruises healed. He leaned up and kissed Severus again.
Oh, he missed this. Suddenly his stubbornness seemed so ridiculous, his fears being slowly calmed by Severus’ gentle touches. The warmth of Severus’ body seemed to cover him like a warm blanket, where he’d been so cold before. The fear that had threatened to strangle him retreated until all he knew was touch and pleasure at Severus’ hands.
Fingers carressed his entrance, and Harry closed his eyes and allowed himself to live in the moment, this moment where Severus was here and that was all that mattered. As he felt Severus gently prepared him, Harry gave himself over to a different kind of pleasure: the release of the heavy weight that had been on his shoulders.
Harry spread his legs as Severus came up to kiss him again, maneuvering his body until he felt Severus’ cock at his entrance, a smile of pure delight on his lips.
“Feeling better are we?” Severus said as he slipped inside and slowly began to thrust.
“Yes,” Harry whispered as his legs spread wider, as he welcomed Severus inside his body, feeling his fear purged from the inside out. He spared a thought for what an idiot he’d been before Severus began to thrust faster and harder, meeting his prostate with every thrust so that all conscious thought left Harry.
“Yes, Harry,” he heard Severus mumble as he began to fist his cock, “feel me. I’m right...here.”
Harry threw his head back and moaned as he came, Severus following silently a moment later. For a few moments the only sound in the room was their breathing, their bodies entwined, neither of them in any hurry to break their connection.
A few minutes later, Harry adjusted his bruised back on the pillows, moaning lightly, and Severus rolled over and laid down next to him. He muttered a cleaning spell and said, “Feeling better, idiot boy?”
Harry couldn’t help his grin and chuckle, knowing he sounded like he’d just been well-shagged, which he had.
“Much.”
“Hmm. Perhaps next time you’ll let the dramatics end before they get too out of hand?”
“We’re going off to war,” Harry said, and even though he knew the statement was true, somehow he no longer feared it as he had just half an hour ago. Nothing was different. Severus, his friends, Harry himself might die. And yet he felt as though his perspective had changed, as though everything was just a little less dark.
“Yes, I am aware of that.”
Harry scoffed to conceal a laugh, something he’d been unable to do before. “Fine. We should have a rule. Any time either of us has to face a dark lord, we get a free pass to some melodrama.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, so if the next time whichever dark lord targets you, you get permission to act...well, pretty much like yourself.”
Severus pinched him.
“Ow! Okay, not like yourself. Because you’re not dramatic at all. Your robes certainly don’t seem to move of their own accord-”
He was silenced by Severus biting his lips, Harry smiling around his teeth as they playfully nipped him.
“Perhaps,” Severus said again, pulling Harry close to him so he was laying down on his chest. “But do promise me you won’t behave like an arse the next time you find yourself shaking in your trainers.”
Harry chuckled and held Severus tighter. Next time, he thought, and realized that there was no point in wondering if this was the end, if this might be the last night he had with Severus. It could be, he realized and he nearly felt that fear return. But then Severus held him tighter, no doubt knowing what Harry was feeling, and his anxiety receded.
No, he couldn’t let fear win. He’d enjoy every moment with Severus that he had, and then he’d go out and kill the monster that threatened to take Severus away from him.
And that was all there was to it. There was no other option.
“Harry?”
Harry gripped Severus tighter, resolved now that nothing would separate them, not Voldemort, not even his own fear.
“I love you,” he said plainly, and he raised his head to smile at Severus and kiss his beloved face.
Severus grumbled, but Harry saw the smile that was threatening to take over his lips as he said, “And I’ve learned to tolerate you...on occasion.”
Harry laughed again and asked, “You really aren’t going to say it again, are you? I’m going to have to borrow Dumbledore’s pensieve if I want to hear it.”
“Are the words that important to you?” Severus asked as the answer were important to him, as though he’d give Harry what he needed.
But they were just words. Everything Severus did, every touch, every glance, every soft look and hidden smile told Harry what he needed to know.
“No,” he said, then pulled the purple blanket over their shoulders.
“Mmm,” Severus grumbled before he sighed and-without looking at Harry-softly said, “I do.” Harry smiled and leaned over to kiss him before Severus gave an awful sounding cough. “I’m fine,” he said before Harry could even ask, then cleared his throat and held him tighter.
Closing his eyes as Severus doused the lights, Harry burrowed further into safety, into hope, keeping the fear at bay. With a kiss to Severus’ chest, he nestled into the warmth of their bed and let sleep claim him.
Author: atypicalsnowman
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Harry is 17, and this story is AU after Book 5.
Disclaimer I'm not JK Rowling and these characters are, sadly, not mine.
Summary: When Harry begins to break under the pressures of death and prophesy, help arrives from an unlikely quarter: Snape. Despite their own doubts, manipulations from all sides and hapless interventions combine to bring their two souls together.
A/N: Thanks to Torina for looking over the chapter for plot and to shoebox for the beta. I'm very sorry this chapter is so late. My entire life changed in the last month. I got a new job, new apartment and new lifestyle. I'm a daywalker now, and I've had to adjust myself to a new writing schedule. So while my goal will still be two weeks per chapter, I also want to take the time to do them correctly. These next few chapters have been in my head for over two years now. It's amazing to finally be able to write them, and I just want to get them right.
Please be patient with me. We're so near the end, I can taste it. Thank you all so much for sticking with me.
*
“Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.” Excerpt from Frank Herbert’s Dune.
“The attacks have stopped.”
Harry bit his nail and said nothing, keeping his eyes on Dumbledore’s desk as Moody began to speak. He forced himself not to meet Severus’ gaze, and could feel Remus’ eyes boring a hole in the back of his neck
“Yes,” Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes focusing on some bauble in front of him rather than the man speaking. “I believe we’ve reached a turning point.”
Harry watched as Moody and Kingsley looked at each other from the corner of his eye, and he felt his heart race faster. He knew why the attacks had stopped. Severus had told Remus and Dumbledore what had happened with Malfoy, and Harry had been on the verge of panic since that night.
The night Severus had made the move that would either win the war or damn both himself and Harry to places he couldn’t bear to think about. There’d been no need for Severus to explain why he’d done it; Harry wasn’t an idiot. They’d been stuck, and Severus was clever enough to see a way out. But there was a fear growing in Harry, not only for his life and the lives of others. Severus’ confession might jeopardize whatever future they might have after the war was won.
Malfoy would tell Voldemort, would who tell his Death Eaters, who would tell...
Everyone.
Harry tasted blood and looked at his finger. He wiped it on his shirt and started chewing another one.
“You’re not surprised by this, Dumbledore,” Kingsley stated, no question in his tone, and Harry could feel his eyes on him even as he attempted to blend into the wall. “I realize you have your own eyes and ears, but we don’t know what to make of this.”
“Except that he’s gathering his followers close to him,” Moody said. Harry looked up then, just in time to see Moody’s false eye focus on him. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I don’t like being shut out. Especially when I’m the one on the front line.”
“I believe it’s obvious what’s happened.” Harry watched as Dumbledore, his expression blank, steepled his fingers and looked closely at Kingsley and Moody. “He’s gathering his forces, focusing on a real attack.”
“But why?” Moody asked with a growl. “Why now? What’s happened?”
“Did you want the attacks to continue?” Severus asked, his tone light and mocking, and Harry struggled as he tried to look at Severus without really looking at him. “Perhaps I’m mistaken, but I assumed the absence of violence to be a good thing.”
And it was a good thing, Harry though, except that they all knew what it meant.
Harry watched as Moody held back some insult, his face twisted in anger at Severus’ snide remark. He swallowed whatever he was about to say, and instead turned one eye on Harry and the other on Severus. “I’ve been hearing things, Snape. Murmurs about you and...”
Both eyes focused on Harry, and he struggled to appear innocent, to not allow his face to redden and his eyes to drop to the floor. He met Moody’s gaze dead-on, but he felt his heart begin to beat madly in his chest and clenched his fists as fear began to take over.
“Oh?” Severus asked, his voice caring a threat. “And what murmurs might those be?”
Kingsley laid a hand on Moody’s forearm and said, “Ridiculous rumors, whispered by people whom I wouldn’t trust with a knut. Nothing worth mentioning.” He turned a glare on Moody, then returned his attention to Dumbledore.
“I’m going to send the students home early,” Dumbledore said, ignoring Moody’s words and picking up a quill to pen a quick message. “It’s two extra weeks of holiday for them, and they’ll be safer in their homes than they would be here.”
Biting down on his nail, Harry struggled to ignore Severus’ growing concern through the bond. He tried to control his fear, but he couldn’t help the way his heart was beating, how his body had broken out in a cold sweat. He’d known it was coming down to this, that this is what they’d been waiting for, hoping for even. But knowing that it was coming, coming in a matter of days ...
“I want everyone loyal to our cause stationed at the castle,” Dumbledore told Moody, “as soon as possible.”
“Albus,” Moody said, “what happened? Why is all this happening now?” He looked directly at Harry, and this time Harry couldn’t help the expression of absolute terror that settled on his face.
“Alastor,” Dumbledore said, sitting up in his chair and drawing Moody’s attention back on himself, “get your people to Hogwarts. Tonight.” It was a clear dismissal, and Moody and Kingsley stood to go, even as they both kept their eyes on Harry before they turned.
Silence pervaded as the door closed, and Severus stood and came to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.
He shook it off.
He wasn’t angry at Severus, not exactly. But he couldn’t bear to be touched; not then, not in a room with two other people. Not when he felt as though he was moments from giving himself away. A terrible dread fell over him, covering him like a blanket so he could barely breathe. It was as though all the air in the room had been removed, leaving him to choke on his fear.
He must have been doing a decent job of hiding his emotions because Remus said, “Harry, Severus did what he had to do-”
“Keep your nose out of other people’s business, Lupin,” Severus said as he stood behind Harry, not touching him but not leaving all the same.
Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair. “We’re as prepared as we’re going to be. We’ll continue our practices until the day comes, and I believe it will be soon.”
Harry’s hands were shaking, and he lifted one to adjust his glasses, leaving a smudge of blood on the lenses. The murmured cleaning spell Severus cast went unacknowledged. He didn’t know what to say to him that hadn’t already been said. He knew it had been necessary, that something had been needed and Malfoy had just been in the right place at the right time.
But did it have to be this?
“What’s going to happen now?” Harry asked to no one in particular.
“It’s late,” Dumbledore said, casting Tempus and turning to look at the three men by his side. “The students will leave first thing in the morning. As soon as they’re gone-”
“No,” Harry said, and he could feel Severus’ eyes on him. “I mean if everyone finds out. About me and Severus. What will happen to him?”
The hand was again placed on his shoulder, and Harry again shook it off, battling the fear that was threatening to overtake him.
“These attacks have rendered the Ministry powerless at the moment, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “Whatever happens, it won’t happen until later. We have more pressing matter to attend to at the moment.”
Harry bit his lip and scoffed. “Maybe you think we won’t survive-”
Dumbledore shook his head “Harry-”
“But I’m planning on it. I don’t want to be expelled or have my bond-mate punished over something we didn’t have any control over.”
“Harry, I promise,” Dumbledore said, “If it comes to that-and I don’t believe it will-I will protect you with all my power and influence. I won’t see Severus punished. I swear.”
But Dumbledore’s promises meant little to Harry. With the briefest of nods, he stood and walked out the door, listening for the footsteps that followed him before he started down the staircase.
*
Harry couldn’t help but wonder if the Great Hall had been this silent before he’d entered the room or if it’d gone quiet after he stepped inside. He straightened his back and squared his shoulders, nearly every eye turning to him as he walked towards the Gryffindor table, trying and failing to ignore the anxiety growing within him.
It had been a long night. Severus had seemed to sense that Harry hadn’t wanted to talk, hadn’t wanted comfort, hadn’t wanted anything really except to go to sleep. As he woke, he felt the fear he was fighting threaten to overtake him, and he so wanted to lean into Severus’ warm embrace. A part of him wanted nothing more than to take the strength Severus was offering, allow himself to be comforted and face what was coming. But as much as he needed Severus, the need to hold himself together was far greater. He needed to be strong. They were almost at the end, and he couldn’t falter now.
He kept his footsteps straight, even when he saw the Slytherins look at him curiously and start to whisper, the other houses joining them a moment later.
He ignored them and smiled at Hermione, before he stopped.
It was Hermione’s false smile and her obvious attempt at summoning bravery when she motioned to him to sit next to her that told him what he’d feared had happened.
Everyone knew.
“Good morning,” she said, her tone painfully casual. “Did you sleep well?”
No one was talking. The entire Gryffindor table seemed to be listening for his response, as though he’d actually answer their unvoiced question.
“Yeah, fine.” He concentrated on the toast Hermione thrust at him and forced himself not look at Severus at the Head Table. “When’s the train leaving?”
“In an hour,” she said, her spoon making little clanging noises as she hit it against the side of her bowl. She bit her lip and met Neville’s eyes from across the table before steeling herself as she addressed Harry. “I won’t be on it, Harry. Neither will Neville, or Seamus and Dean. Quite a few us are staying.”
Harry’s eyes closed of their own volition as his breath was stolen from him, and he said nothing for a moment; pieces of toast got stuck under his nail as he ground it into bits. He’d spent so much energy worrying over Severus that he hadn’t even considered this as a possibility. The idea that his friends and classmates might stay, might actually go out to meet Death Eaters...
“What?” he said, his voice carrying across the room like a shout in all the silence. He saw Severus look up from his breakfast out of the corner of his eye.
“We’re not leaving, Harry,” she said softly, and this time she did look at him. Her gaze was sorrowful as she looked to Neville, then back towards him. In a lowered voice, she said, “This is our fight, too. We can’t just leave-”
He stood up, cutting her off and motioning for her to follow him outside. He couldn’t think about this, it wasn’t possible. In all his thoughts on how this last battle would play out, in all his fears over Severus dying, he never thought he’d have to worry about his friends.
As soon as the doors were closed, he said, “You can’t stay here. You know what’s going to happen.”
She bit her lip and seemed to struggle with what to say, as if she could sense that Harry was nearing the end of his rope and didn’t want to push him further. “Harry, this isn’t just your fight-”
“But it’s not yours either!” he shouted, trying to will her to understand that she couldn’t stay. None of them could. Defense classes and the DA were one thing, but he doubted any of them could possibly be prepared for what was coming. “Hermione, if something were to happen to you, I couldn’t bear it. You have to leave, and you have to convince everyone else to leave with you.”
Frowning, she said, “I can’t do that. And it’s not only Gryffindors staying, it’s students from every house. You don’t get to decide who gets to fight and who doesn’t.”
He shook his head, even as he heard soft footsteps approach from behind, lingering in the shadows.
“Hermione, please,” he begged, “I just got you back. Please don’t do this. I wouldn’t be able to-”
“They killed Ron!” she shouted, losing whatever battle she’d been waging over her own emotions. Her face turned red and her eyes began to shine, and suddenly that one great loss returned to Harry like a flood. “They killed him, Harry. He’s dead. If anyone has the right to be there, it’s me, and don’t you dare think you can stop me!”
Harry was shocked into silence, and he was forced to remember that he wasn’t the only person to lose someone to Voldemort. As much as he wanted to beg her to leave, needed to know that she’d be safe, he nodded his head and used every ounce of his strength to remain silent.
A moment later the doors opened, and the students began filing out. He kept his eyes on Hermione as his ears picked up words whispered just loud enough for him to hear: Snape, Potter, Death Eater, DMLE, fucking. Hermione shook her head and forced a smile, and Harry never wanted to hug her more than in that moment.
“Once the younger years leave the rest of us are going to practice our dueling in the common room. Will you come?”
Harry nodded and watched as she was swept away with the crowd, leaving him to watch them go, wondering what would happen to all of them. The rush of adrenaline that had come from Hermione’s announcement now gone, Harry was left feeling chilled to the bone. He stood in the center of the hall, his gaze drawn to windows revealing a dull light from outside. The freezing air snuck through his robes, stealing his warmth and covering him in the cold. He put his arms around himself, not caring if he looked like he was trying to make himself as small as possible.
The footsteps from earlier made a reappearance, but Harry couldn’t turn around, not now, not when he felt so raw, so exposed.
Severus put a hand on his shoulder, and he allowed it to linger for a moment, wanting nothing more than to step back into Severus’ warmth.
He closed his eyes and shook it off. “Not now.”
“Harry...”
“Don’t mind being seen with me now that everyone knows?”
“Everyone does not know,” Severus said, standing at Harry’s side. “Everyone suspects, but that is hardly the same thing. They know nothing.”
Harry didn’t really see the difference, but he didn’t have the strength to fight. Not right now, not when all of this seemed to be happening at once.
His right side grew warm as Severus attempted to comfort him, putting an arm across his shoulder. Not wanting to hurt Severus, he whispered, “Please. Please not now. I don’t think I could make it through the day if...”
Severus removed his arm and whispered, “Soon.”
Harry nodded, and went to join the other Gryffindors for dueling practice.
*
“Ah!”
Harry couldn’t help the cry of pain as he was knocked onto his arse for the third time that night. Dumbledore stood over him, his normally kind features twisted into a frown.
“You’re not concentrating.”
Harry panted and stood up, wincing at the pain in his lower back and shoulder. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t focus on their dueling sessions. Not when he knew Severus was just in the other room, lying on the sofa, waiting to be drained. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when it might be tomorrow that he would have to take so much from Severus for the real battle.
Dumbledore sighed and paced the room.
“I understand that you’re concerned for Severus, Harry, but you do realize that he would be the first person to suffer if you fail?”
Harry scoffed and looked at his shoes. As if he didn’t know that. As if that fact hadn’t been repeated to him every single time they had one of these practices. That didn’t make it any easier, didn’t make him feel Severus’ pain any less. Didn’t help him forget that Voldemort could attack at any time.
Frustration
He ran a hand through his hair and he could almost feel Severus agreeing with Dumbledore, even if there was no way he could be privy to the conversation. He’d avoided Severus all day, helping the Gryffindors and a few others with their dueling techniques, hating that it was necessary but wanting to help them as much as he could.
And as much as he wanted to go to Severus, he didn’t know how he could be with him and not give in to his fear. It was the worse sort of conflict, wanting something so badly but knowing you shouldn’t have it.
Thoughts of Severus and what might possibly happen were running through his mind when he suddenly he felt a tugging. He quickly stifled a gasp as he felt some invisible string that connected him to Severus begin to pull him, softly at first, then with more urgency.
“I know this is frustrating for you, Harry,” Dumbledore said, but Harry was only half-listening. The pulling became insistent, almost like he could feel Severus grabbing his arm. “I can’t begin to imagine how you feel right now, but you must concentrate. It isn’t only your lives that hang in the balance.”
Harry closed his eyes as he began to feel a war waging inside him. A part of him wanted to respond to Severus’ call, go to their rooms and have the argument that had been brewing for days. But as much as he wanted that, he knew that Voldemort could attack at any time. He felt his body struggling not to give into exhaustion as he forced himself to keep steady.
“You have no idea what this is like,” Harry muttered, trying to keep his mind here, in this room, and not with Severus.
Dumbledore’s eyes softened and he sighed, letting the hand that held his wand fall to his side. He opened his mouth as though he was about to speak, then paused. Shaking his head, he looked up and said, “I was in love once too, Harry. In a time of war...” he drifted off and Harry couldn’t help but listen. He’d never heard Dumbledore speak a word about his life before, and the terrible sadness that swept over him made him seem so much older.
“It is my deepest wish that you have the happiness that was denied to us,” Dumbledore said sadly, his expression twisted in grief.
Harry had no idea what to say to that, and tried to ignore the frantic tugging from Severus as he struggled with his words.
“I’m sorry,” he said, biting his lip and rubbing his shoulder for want of something to do with his hands. “What was her name?”
Dumbledore smiled sadly, as if he was bringing her face to memory, and said, “Gellert.”
Harry’s eyes widened a fraction as he processed that information, nodding even as he realized that he and Dumbledore-and Severus-had something in common, before he gasped and looked Dumbledore in the eyes as he realized the importance of that name.
“Gellert?”
Dumbledore nodded, and silence pervaded for a moment as Harry began to fathom what he’d just been told. “I don’t take these things I ask of you lightly, Harry. I understand what I’m asking, of both you and Severus. I wanted you to know...I do not wish to be heartless.”
Harry struggled to take a deep breath and he couldn’t help how his hands were clenched, at how his entire body was shaking, not only from the information he’d just learned but from the idea that he and Dumbledore might soon have something else in common.
It was very likely that he’d lose Severus the same way Dumbledore had lost Grindelwald.
“I...have to go,” he said, feeling Severus pulling at him as though he was physically in the room. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, perhaps it would be best to end our session. I believe it will be our last,” he said, tucking his wand into his robe. “Perhaps it’s time for you to go to Severus?”
Harry nodded, turning around swiftly to exit the room, the cold winter air biting at him as he stepped into the hall. He tugged his robe around him, his pace quickening, knowing he had to get to Severus, feeling as though he was about to slip through his fingers.
He walked with long steps, then broke out into a run, not knowing why he was running when he knew Severus was safe in the dungeons, but no longer able to hold his fear back, feeling as though the world was closing in on him.
His harsh gasps for air left his lungs feeling cold, and he hardly cared about the remaining students lingering in the halls, or how it was very likely that every Slytherin who’d stayed behind saw him as he ran into Severus’ rooms as though he belonged there.
With a firm thrust, he closed the door behind him, only to see an angry Severus stalking towards him as he turned.
Grabbing his collar and thrusting him against the door, Severus pulled Harry to him and hissed, “This ends now, Potter! I can’t stand another minute of you sulking around our rooms, not letting me touch you when I know you-”
Harry cut him off with a desperate kiss, his own hands snaking through Severus’ robes to feel his heart beat, needing to know Severus was still here, was still alive, even if it was only today.
His fingers fumbled as he tried to unbutton the multitude of buttons on Severus’ vest, his breaths coming out in gasps before he gave into frustration and pulled the vest in two, dozens of button casualties falling to the floor.
“Harry-”
He wrapped his arms around Severus’ chest and let himself listen to his heartbeat. A sob pulled from him erupted as his fear bubbled up from inside him, coming out now, finally, in Severus’ embrace.
Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him up so Severus could look at his face. Harry tried to keep his eyes on the ground, not wanting Severus to see him like this, knowing that he couldn’t bear to look into his eyes and have all his weakness blasted open.
“Harry,” Severus said, his hands grasping at Harry’s face, pulling at his hair, “Harry, look at me!”
Harry did, and he felt his heart ache at the look in Severus’ eyes. The fear he felt crashed upon him all at once, choking him as he realized this could be one of the last times he’d ever look at the person he loved.
“I can’t...” he whispered, shaking his head.
“Look at me, Harry,” Severus said, his tone stern but his voice soft. “It is normal to fear death-”
“It’s not my death I’m afraid of! I’m afraid of losing you!” His body shook with the force of his fear, and he threw himself onto Severus, stifling his sobs with a kiss. Severus gasped as he leaned backward, catching Harry and leaning against the sofa before he began moving them towards the bedroom.
On some level Harry knew his fear that had brought him to this. That the dread he’d been feeling since that night with Malfoy was now bursting out of him at the thought of losing Severus on the battlefield, or worse, later to the Wizengamot.
“Harry, listen to me,” Severus said as he lowered Harry to the bed. As his panic welled up within him, Harry grasped at Severus, needing his touch after having denying himself for too long. His legs scrambled to pull Severus down on top of him, and his hands grasped at his back. He didn’t know what he wanted, aside from knowing that he wanted Severus. Though he could feel him with hands, lips, legs, it felt as though Severus was slipping away.
“I can’t lose you,” Harry said in a whispered hiss, his lips still seeking Severus’, only to find him pulling back.
Suddenly Harry let out a gasp as Severus sank down on him, all the air rushing out of him as Severus’ full weight landed on his chest and stomach. Long-fingered hands grabbed his face and Harry was forced to face his fear.
Pain
Regret
Severus sighed, then paused before he spoke. “Do you want me to promise I’ll survive? Do you want me to lie to you?” he asked, and Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the truth. “I won’t do that. Harry, stop being ridiculous and look at me!”
Harry did, looking up in time to see something soften in Severus’ gaze. He loosened his grip on Harry’s face, his fingers wandering over Harry’s lips as his mind seemed to wander.
“I have no desire to die. If I have to sacrifice myself I will, but I promise you this...” he waited until Harry was looking at him before he said, “I won’t leave you if I can help it. Not again. I swear it.”
A sob escaped Harry’s throat before he could help it, and he took Severus’ face in his hands. “That’s the best I’m going to get, isn’t it?”
Severus remained silent, his unspoken response coming loud and clear. The quiet strength that came from Severus allowed Harry to pause, and he realized that his fear was attempting to rob him of this moment.
That was something he couldn’t allow. Not when his moments with Severus could be coming to an end.
Quieting his breaths, he nodded and said, “All right.”
“All right,” Severus repeated, then said, “As for right now, I don’t know how long we have, but I’m here at the moment. Perhaps we should enjoy ourselves, regardless of what may happen?”
Harry nodded, and pushed the fear away as Severus’ lips met his own. His stifled breath was concealed by Severus’ kisses as clothing was slowly removed, Severus’ body never moving too far away from his own. Hands took special care to caress every part of Harry as Severus pulled off his shoes and trousers, as his shirt was lifted above his head.
“You’re hurt,” Severus said, inspecting the bruises on Harry’s shoulders and back. “I have a salve that can heal this.”
“Later,” Harry said, knowing that he needed this far more than he needed his bruises healed. He leaned up and kissed Severus again.
Oh, he missed this. Suddenly his stubbornness seemed so ridiculous, his fears being slowly calmed by Severus’ gentle touches. The warmth of Severus’ body seemed to cover him like a warm blanket, where he’d been so cold before. The fear that had threatened to strangle him retreated until all he knew was touch and pleasure at Severus’ hands.
Fingers carressed his entrance, and Harry closed his eyes and allowed himself to live in the moment, this moment where Severus was here and that was all that mattered. As he felt Severus gently prepared him, Harry gave himself over to a different kind of pleasure: the release of the heavy weight that had been on his shoulders.
Harry spread his legs as Severus came up to kiss him again, maneuvering his body until he felt Severus’ cock at his entrance, a smile of pure delight on his lips.
“Feeling better are we?” Severus said as he slipped inside and slowly began to thrust.
“Yes,” Harry whispered as his legs spread wider, as he welcomed Severus inside his body, feeling his fear purged from the inside out. He spared a thought for what an idiot he’d been before Severus began to thrust faster and harder, meeting his prostate with every thrust so that all conscious thought left Harry.
“Yes, Harry,” he heard Severus mumble as he began to fist his cock, “feel me. I’m right...here.”
Harry threw his head back and moaned as he came, Severus following silently a moment later. For a few moments the only sound in the room was their breathing, their bodies entwined, neither of them in any hurry to break their connection.
A few minutes later, Harry adjusted his bruised back on the pillows, moaning lightly, and Severus rolled over and laid down next to him. He muttered a cleaning spell and said, “Feeling better, idiot boy?”
Harry couldn’t help his grin and chuckle, knowing he sounded like he’d just been well-shagged, which he had.
“Much.”
“Hmm. Perhaps next time you’ll let the dramatics end before they get too out of hand?”
“We’re going off to war,” Harry said, and even though he knew the statement was true, somehow he no longer feared it as he had just half an hour ago. Nothing was different. Severus, his friends, Harry himself might die. And yet he felt as though his perspective had changed, as though everything was just a little less dark.
“Yes, I am aware of that.”
Harry scoffed to conceal a laugh, something he’d been unable to do before. “Fine. We should have a rule. Any time either of us has to face a dark lord, we get a free pass to some melodrama.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, so if the next time whichever dark lord targets you, you get permission to act...well, pretty much like yourself.”
Severus pinched him.
“Ow! Okay, not like yourself. Because you’re not dramatic at all. Your robes certainly don’t seem to move of their own accord-”
He was silenced by Severus biting his lips, Harry smiling around his teeth as they playfully nipped him.
“Perhaps,” Severus said again, pulling Harry close to him so he was laying down on his chest. “But do promise me you won’t behave like an arse the next time you find yourself shaking in your trainers.”
Harry chuckled and held Severus tighter. Next time, he thought, and realized that there was no point in wondering if this was the end, if this might be the last night he had with Severus. It could be, he realized and he nearly felt that fear return. But then Severus held him tighter, no doubt knowing what Harry was feeling, and his anxiety receded.
No, he couldn’t let fear win. He’d enjoy every moment with Severus that he had, and then he’d go out and kill the monster that threatened to take Severus away from him.
And that was all there was to it. There was no other option.
“Harry?”
Harry gripped Severus tighter, resolved now that nothing would separate them, not Voldemort, not even his own fear.
“I love you,” he said plainly, and he raised his head to smile at Severus and kiss his beloved face.
Severus grumbled, but Harry saw the smile that was threatening to take over his lips as he said, “And I’ve learned to tolerate you...on occasion.”
Harry laughed again and asked, “You really aren’t going to say it again, are you? I’m going to have to borrow Dumbledore’s pensieve if I want to hear it.”
“Are the words that important to you?” Severus asked as the answer were important to him, as though he’d give Harry what he needed.
But they were just words. Everything Severus did, every touch, every glance, every soft look and hidden smile told Harry what he needed to know.
“No,” he said, then pulled the purple blanket over their shoulders.
“Mmm,” Severus grumbled before he sighed and-without looking at Harry-softly said, “I do.” Harry smiled and leaned over to kiss him before Severus gave an awful sounding cough. “I’m fine,” he said before Harry could even ask, then cleared his throat and held him tighter.
Closing his eyes as Severus doused the lights, Harry burrowed further into safety, into hope, keeping the fear at bay. With a kiss to Severus’ chest, he nestled into the warmth of their bed and let sleep claim him.