"Bloody hell!" The curse echoed through the cavern where a messy-haired wizard with brilliant emerald eyes paced restlessly, the frustration and longing clear for all to see – if anybody else had been present, of course. Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, and now a fully-grown adult wizard, was longing for home.
After the war had ended, Harry had returned to Hogwarts to finish his schooling. But he found that he could no longer relate to the other children – for they were children, small and innocent to Harry's jaded eyes. Even the teachers could no longer reach him, though they tried. Dumbledore, perhaps, might have been able to do something if he had still been living, but without his influencing presence, Harry wandered around in a daze for the most part.
He had thrown himself into his studies, outdoing even Hermione in his fervor. Even Ron had grown up following the war and death of his brother. All three students had passed their NEWTs with barely a ripple, and then they were free to go on their own. Ron had chosen to put Auror training on hold for a while, as he tried to help his family cope with the loss of one of their own.
Hermione had gone ahead to join a prestigious wizarding college, training to be a Healer – she had seen too much death and carnage, and had chosen to dedicate herself to helping people to live instead. The last Harry had heard, she was also taking Mind-Healer courses, so that she could act as a counselor as well as a Healer.
And Harry had fled, like a coward. The celebrations of Voldemort's demise, the victory of rounding up all the remaining Death Eaters, and the somber pallor that lay over the near-constant funerals had been too much for him. And the media hadn't left him alone either, hounding him for interviews and overwhelming him with their insistence. And so he had run, leaving the wizarding world behind, and had fled to the Muggle one. But there was no place for him there, either, and so he had just wandered, going wherever his feet took him.
Right now, they had taken him to some remote cave on the outskirts of some town that he couldn't pronounce the name of. He wasn't searching for anything in particular, but he had heard that these caves held beautiful crystals that glimmered brightly even in the darkest parts of the cave, and so here he was. He had arrived late at night, so the plan was to rest tonight and explore in the morning.
But he found that he couldn't sleep. Instead, he was craving human contact. He hadn't been around people in months, with the exception of when he went into the closest town to buy supplies or a map. He hadn't heard from Ron or Hermione yet, and Hedwig was gone, having taken his letters of reassurance to his friends.
Harry growled, and then gave in. He had the power, and more than sufficient energy, so why the hell not? Stepping outside of the cave, he glanced around, making certain that there were no Muggles standing around, making out or exploring the area around the caves as a midnight thrill.
Harry didn't bother to change his appearance as he prepared to leave, beyond tying his hair back with a simple black ribbon. Nobody seemed to recognize him anymore, and to Muggles, he was just another one of them. If they stared, it was because they found him attractive. Harry Potter had finally grown into his heritage, and had an almost feminine sort of handsomeness about him.
His hair was long, and the untamable mop had been weighed down into soft curls and waves that swung just below his shoulders. He often let it hang loose, but when he was going into a populated area, he'd tied it back into a ponytail. His eyes were no longer hidden by glasses. He had gone to a Muggle doctor to have his eyes repaired through laser surgery, and had overlapped the surgery with a spell that put his vision in stasis, so that he would no longer need either glasses or contacts.
The telltale scar on his forehead had disappeared entirely with Voldemort's defeat, and Harry's skin had darkened to a deep tan. He had lost weight, but had replaced it with muscle, so that he moved with a grace that he hadn't had as a teenager. He had changed from a gangly, wobble-footed colt into a sturdy, powerful war horse, his muscles not well defined, but easily visible in his movements.
Tonight, though, he hardly cared about any of that. All he cared about was going to a place where he could find human companionship for a night, with no commitments. He wanted to breathe in the life and breath of a crowded area, to lose himself in a crowd of people, just for tonight. Tomorrow, he'd return and explore the caves before seeing where he wound up.
A quick spell, and his clothing was altered for clubbing. As Harry's body had slimed and toned, he had grown a greater appreciation for tight-fitting clothing. He loved wearing tight jeans and t-shirts, or leather pants and shirts that gave small glimpses of tan flesh every time he moved. He appreciated the looks he got now, as they were looks of interest, rather than the looks of the media or the "adoring public." Finally, he wasn't sought out for being the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Save-Us-All. Instead, he was just Harry, a good-looking, attractive male with a brilliant smile.
For tonight, he was wearing black leather pants that tied up the sides, leaving tantalizing glimpses of his calves. A pair of knee-high boots that fit like liquid darkness over his skin poured up his legs. His shirt was a sheer green color, sleeveless and with a deep V-neck that showed off a good portion of his firm chest, the tan skin a sharp contrast to the shirt's color, but made his eyes stand out all the more. The shirt glittered as he moved, the material designed to reflect the lights that surrounded him.
As ready as he'd ever be, Harry took a breath, checked the area once more, and disapparated, reappearing in a Muggle town that was several miles from Hogwarts. Harry liked coming to this place when he grew too restless. Not only could he find a good time, and usually a friend or two to spend the night with, but he felt like he was tempting fate. This was primarily a Muggle establishment, but occasionally a wizard or witch would wander in for a night on the town. All it would take was one person, and Harry's cover would be blown.
He wondered vaguely how he'd react if somebody did happen to find him. Would he be happy? Or would he panic? Perhaps he'd try to obliviate the person. Harry shook his head; he wasn't going to worry about this tonight. There would be plenty of time to worry if he was actually found.
Opening the door to the club, Harry was hit with a wash of heat and sound, lights flashing through the crowd, bodies undulating and writhing on the dance floor and the stage, a parody of what he was hoping to find tonight. His eyes gleaming brightly in the strobe lights, Harry moved to the bar and ordered a drink. Drink in hand, he sat on a barstool and swiveled it around, watching the people on the floor with a sharp eye.
Here and there, he thought he caught a glimpse of somebody who didn't appear to be Muggle. Most wizards that came here were younger, ranging from seventeen to about twenty-two, and they knew how to blend into the crowd, for the most part. Harry himself was only nineteen, and could blend in quite easily.
"Hey, gorgeous," a deep, feminine voice purred in his ear, and Harry turned his head to smile up at the voluptuous girl who had approached him, offering a brilliant smile and making a small gesture, indicating that she should sit beside him. Blushing prettily, the girl did so, her eyes bright and excited as she took him in. Harry didn't mind the appraisal and leaned back, putting his elbows on the counter behind him, leaving his upper body in a long, lean line.
The girl's eyes widened at his open invitation and she leaned forward, reaching out a manicured hand to touch the material of his shirt along his side. When Harry didn't protest, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, she grew bolder, her hand slipping up his shirt until it brushed against the opening, her painted nails scratching lightly across his chest.
Harry shifted slightly, and her hand slipped fully onto his chest. The girl gasped lightly, and then leaned her head forward, kissing the middle of his chest. Harry sighed and opened his eyes, his hand coming up and pressing against hers, holding her hand still. The girl looked up at him, curious, and he smiled easily. "I'm sorry, my lady, but I'm afraid that female companionship isn't what I'm looking for tonight."
The girl smiled back at him, not insulted in the least. It was a regular occurrence here for people to seek their own gender for a nightly romp. It was safer that way. It was also a regular occurrence for any approaches to be met with consideration. She had approached him, offering companionship, and he had allowed her to touch him as a form of gratitude. There was no insult meant; it was simply common courtesy for this club.
"Then perhaps," she murmured, "you're looking for a cute one? Or do you prefer tall, dark, and handsome?" Harry tilted his head, considering. If she was asking, then she was offering to make an introduction. Apparently, she knew two other people in here, at least, that were seeking some anonymous male companionship.
"Tall, dark, and handsome, probably," Harry admitted. Cute and young was appealing, too, when Harry wanted to be in control, but tonight, he wanted to be topped instead. He wanted to be held, to feel the warmth of another person wrapped around him, strong and comforting.
The anonymous girl – he hadn't asked her name, and she hadn't offered – smiled at him brightly. "How 'bout you go and dance for awhile?" she suggested. When Harry looked at her inquiringly, she shrugged. "If you want tall, dark, and handsome, you're going to have to catch his attention. So go and dance."
Harry set down the remainder of his drink and slipped from his seat, thanking the girl. Anticipation and curiosity swirled in his belly, the infectious excitement and sensual nature of the club already infecting him. Slipping out to the dance floor, Harry tilted his head back and allowed his body to move with the beat, becoming just one of the many bodies writhing under the flashing lights.
The song that was on was a relatively new one, and one that he adored. He found it amusing that such a song would play in a club like this, where the primary focus was to find companionship, whether with just one person, or with several. Harry had tried both, but found that he preferred the more intimate encounters that occurred between just two people. Not that a large group wasn't fun now and again, when he was feeling particularly lonely, but it wasn't his preference most of the time.
There's a place downtown, where the freaks all come around. It's a whole in the wall, it's a dirty free for all. The bass throbbed in the room, and the people on the dance floor moved closer to the nearest body, the dancing taking on an even higher sexual suggestion. Harry nearly laughed; an unpleasant memory of Vernon calling him a Freak. If wizards were freaks, then they were certainly gathered here. And anonymous partners was the primary goal in a place like this...unfamiliar bodies high on adrenalin and alcohol, seeking companionship for an evening or two. There were no rules here, no sense of order. You came when you pleased, you left the same way.
There's a place I know, if you're looking for a show, where they go hardcore, and there's glitter on the floor. Hardcore was exactly what Harry was looking for. He didn't want gentle tonight. He didn't want conversation, either. He just wanted to connect with another human being in the only way he knew anymore. He was too awkward when trying to hold a conversation, so he spoke using his body. Lust, desire, freedom, all conveyed through the bucking and writhing of his body.
A warm body slid up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as the man pressed up against his back, moving with him. Long, slender fingers linked together in front of him, and Harry relaxed against the tall body. This must be the tall, dark, and handsome man the other girl had mentioned. He easily towered over Harry by a good foot, which suited Harry just fine. If he was going to be held, he'd prefer the man be able to spoon around him.
"Do you make a habit of frequenting places such as this when you seek companionship?" a dark, smooth voice murmured in his ear, and Harry nearly froze, only the fact that he was used to hiding his surprise keeping his body writhing to the beat. The man behind him was following his movements easily enough, grinding against him, and Harry could tell that he was happy enough to be where he was.
Harry swallowed heavily; he had just run into the one person he had hoped to never see again. What the hell was Severus Snape doing in a place like this? Tilting his head to the side, just enough so that Severus could hear him, he replied, "I only come here when I seek companionship, yes. I like toying with fate," he added, his voice light and teasing.
This time, he felt the hesitation in the body behind him. What had Severus been expecting? For Harry to freeze and panic? Or for Harry to push him away and run? Feeling a vague smugness at having obviously surprised the other wizard, Harry waited for him to speak. When no reply was forthcoming, Harry twisted his body around, so that he was facing the foreboding professor.
It took him several minutes to move his gaze from the tantalizing flash of pale skin that greeted him upon turning around. Severus was in a shirt that looked like it must have come from the Victorian era. It was, of course, all black, and made of a soft, lightweight silk material. Ruffles framed a long 'V' in the neckline, and the lacing that could have been done up to hide all but the slender column of his throat was left open, so that Harry could see all that pale skin sharply contrasting against the black shirt, the ties forming a dark crisscrossing pattern across Severus' chest.
Glancing to the side and down, Harry saw that the sleeves were full-length, and had frills on the end, so that they covered the top of his hand, leaving those long fingers free to move as they pleased. The slacks that Severus was wearing were also black, and made of a comfortable-looking material that Harry couldn't identify. Short, ankle-length boots slipped under the pants, and the overall effect was that Severus' legs looked longer and more slender than ever.
Harry found his breath catching as he allowed his gaze to slowly travel up Severus' body, past that tantalizing column of his throat and up to his face. He noted that the other wizard's hair was soft and long, lying in lose waves down past his shoulders. His face was no longer sallow and angry, but was now a healthy color, and more mellow than Harry had ever seen it.
Gathering his courage, Harry looked up into his former Professor's dark gaze, and his own eyes widened in surprise. There was no anger there, nor the hatred that the professor had always seemed to harbor for him. Severus moved easily, his gaze both curious and amused. Harry flushed; he had been rather obvious about checking the other man out, hadn't he?
A small brush of a finger against the opening of his shirt, and Harry stopped thinking. This was what he had wanted, and he knew that Severus would be able to give him what he needed; a connection to another human being without commitment. Lifting his own hand and setting it on top of Severus', he writhed to the beat, allowing his body to rub up against the other man's like the sensual creature he knew he was tonight. He maneuvered Severus' hand fully onto his chest, and then a little further, so that the tip of those slender fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt.
Severus didn't need further prompting, watching him with dark, serious eyes as his hand slipped under the shirt, tickling across Harry's skin. The hand that had been on his waist moved, so that it slipped under the shirt and pressed against his back, the shirt having been removed from the pants just moments before.
Pushing up onto his toes, Harry pressed a gentle kiss against Severus' throat, the offer made. Severus leaned down and sunk teeth lightly into his throat. His offer had been accepted. Still dancing, writhing and moving to the beat, Severus and Harry made their way to the edge of the dance floor.
Once they reached the edge, Severus disappeared, no doubt inquiring about a room, and Harry leaned against the wall, appearing unconcerned. In truth, his heart was hammering against his chest, and his hands were sweating. He knew what he was about to do, and the fact that he was about to have sex not only with another wizard, but one who had hated and tormented him for years at that.
Still, something had changed that final year, and they had both felt it. When Severus had shown his memories to Harry, as he lay there dying, Harry had felt a strong connection to the other wizard. Severus had loved his mother; had really and truly loved her, and had vowed to do whatever it took to protect her son.
Harry knew that he had been nothing but a troublemaker while he was at Hogwarts. It didn't help that the teachers, and even the Headmaster, rewarded him for his foolhardy stunts and dangerous outings. Only Severus had punished him for his infractions. True, he had also punished him unfairly for things that he hadn't done, but in hindsight, that didn't really matter. It was more like Severus felt that he had to punish Harry for even those infractions that he hadn't witnessed, to counter the rewards he was given by the other professors.
After defeating Voldemort for the final time, Harry had used the resurrection stone once more, pouring all of his magic and energy into the shattered device to bring back the one person the wizarding world needed more than anyone else. Dumbledore had lived long enough, and deserved to rest in peace. Sirius, though his death had been far, far too early, was with James and Lily now, and should be left alone behind the Veil. Severus, though, still had much to contribute.
Harry wondered idly how Severus was doing now. He knew from Hermione that Severus was no longer teaching at Hogwarts. McGonagall was currently the Headmistress, until she could find an appropriate and willing replacement. Professor Flitwick served as her Deputy, and Harry remembered the tiny professor with fondness. Of all his professors, save perhaps Remus, he had liked the Charms professor the best.
Severus was heading his way, and Harry followed him upstairs willingly enough. Down a hallway and to the right, Severus stopped and opened a door, holding it open and gesturing for Harry to go through first. Harry smiled; he could tell that the Potions Master had expected him to run when he had left him alone at the edge of the room. He had been tucked into the shadows, and the quiet pop of Apparition wouldn't have even been noticeable among the crushing beat.
The music was muffled up here, just a dull thumping that served as a backdrop for whatever activities one wished to perform up here. Harry didn't bother to turn around, already stripping out of his clothing and letting them drop to the floor.
"Potter?" Severus inquired, having not moved from locking the door. Harry looked back at him and noticed that he hadn't started undressing, and in fact hardly seemed interested in doing so anytime soon.
Harry sighed. "Look, Professor. I know you've got a lot of questions, but could they wait? Please? I didn't come up here to talk. Oh, and the name's Harry," he corrected, bending over to slip off his boots, well aware that his ass was displayed quite prettily where it was covered in leather. Severus didn't reply, still standing at the door with his hands behind his back, his body tense as he watched Harry.
Shrugging, the teenage wizard straightened up and tugged on the lacing at either side of his pants, allowing the leather to part and slither down his body, leaving his tan, unmarred skin bare to Severus' dark gaze. Turning to face the Slytherin challengingly, Harry said, "I come to this club for one thing, and only one. If you don't want to give it to me, then I'm sure I can find somebody who does. Perhaps we can set up an appointment to talk at a later date?"
Both of them knew that there would be no later. It was now or never. Harry had offered, and Severus had accepted. To back out now simply wasn't possible, and so Severus gave in, gracefully. Moving into the room, Severus tugged his shirt out of his pants and slipped it over his head, tossing the shirt neatly onto the single desk in the room.
Harry had to bite back a smile; he wondered if Severus knew that he had taken somebody over that very desk before. All the furniture in here was designed for sex, from the thick carpet to the bed to the desk, and even the large chair could easily fit a full-grown man and his lover.
Severus stopped in front of him, but made no further moves, and Harry realized that it would be up to him to take the next step. He figured he might as well make their positions clear now, and so he dropped hard to his knees, the thick carpet cushioning the movement. Severus's body grew tense, but at the same time, Harry could see him hardening through his pants, and he smiled.
Now that he was closer, he could see the thin thread that wound its way over the front of the pants. Setting his hands lightly on Severus' thighs for balance, Harry leaned forward and grasped the edge of the string with his teeth, tugging lightly and watching with growing excitement as it pulled free, loosening the front of the pants. Reaching his hands up, he hooked his fingers under the material and slid the pants down Severus' legs, slowly revealing pale skin over toned muscles.
Harry drank in what he revealed eagerly, though not with surprise. After all, one didn't survive as a Death Eater for so many years, enduring who knows what sort of tortures, without being fit and able to take the punishment. So a lean, strong body was revealed as the pants were removed. Severus' chest was well proportioned, leading down to a narrow waist and slender hips.
When he moved forward a step, knocking Harry onto his butt on the carpet, Harry got to appreciate the way his muscles moved as he walked, flexing and sliding under pale skin. Severus reminded Harry of a panther – long, sleek, and lethal, with coiled muscles that could easily catch him unawares.
Strong hands reached down and gripped Harry by the shoulders, hard, lifting him to his feet by force. Harry allowed the Potions Master to manhandle him – this is what he had been looking for, after all. Severus turned him around and pushed him towards the bed. Not needing any prompting, Harry climbed onto the bed and moved up to the headboard, gripping it tightly.
He spread his legs out and kept his back straight and taut, so that his body was one long line. He knew how good he looked like this – he had been told many times, and had seen himself in the mirror as well.
A quick spell, and Harry gasped as he was stretched and lubed, all without his partner having laid a hand on him. Magic was a wonderful tool, he thought happily. Severus climbed behind him, pressing his erection against Harry's opening, but not sliding in. Growling, Harry shifted and pushed back, trying to force the issue.
In response, Severus used another spell to wrap a collar around Harry's throat, which was then connected to a chain that bound him to the headboard and restricted his movement. His wrists were bound in similar fashion, and Harry moaned, enjoying the loss of control.
"No wand, Mr. Potter?" Severus sneered behind him, and Harry just shrugged. He had his wand on him, but Severus didn't need to know what. The older man just snorted and conjured a mirror on the wall at the head of the bed, so that Harry was staring at him, bound and splayed on the bed, his ass wide open and ready. Severus rose like a pale shadow behind him, his eyes dark with the same lust that now clouded Harry's own emerald orbs.
Slender fingers reached down and grasped Harry's hips, digging firmly enough into his sides to leave bruises, and then the other man slid into him in one slow slide. Harry moaned at the sensation, feeling himself filled to the brim, though it didn't hurt. Whatever spell Severus had used had done its job well.
"Watch, Harry," Severus commanded, and it was the use of his first name that made him obey. Tilting his head, Harry stared into the mirror as Severus gave a hard thrust into him, forcing his body to jerk forward. Not letting up, his lover thrust into him quickly, forcefully, not bothering to ease him into it. In response, Harry writhed for him, tightening around him deliberately as he keened.
One hand left his side and moved around to his own arousal, the grasp firm and rough as Severus worked him, so that he arched and came barely two minutes later, Severus still sawing in and out of him, not bothering to deliberately aim for his prostrate. This was about his pleasure right now; getting Harry off had only been done to cause the spasming around his own arousal, which tilted him over the edge as he found release, slamming hard into Harry and freezing there.
Harry continued to stare at himself in the mirror. His eyes were still darkened with lust, and his hair had fallen out of its ponytail – or been taken out, he wasn't sure which. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he was panting, his breath coming in gasps as his chest heaved with the exertion. He was the form of debauchery like this, and found an unexpected thrill at watching himself in the mirror.
"Are you ready to talk yet, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, his voice steady, even though Harry was sure he was feeling the exertion of having just taken Harry so roughly. Harry shook his head, not speaking, and Severus shrugged, causing him to shift inside Harry, who gasped. "Very well, then. Let's continue, shall we?"
The chains fell from Harry's wrists, though the collar remained wrapped around his throat. Severus stood, pulling out of Harry's body, and the boy whimpered lightly at the loss. Another spell, and Harry found himself bound to the ceiling, his feet almost touching the ground. He was at the perfect height for another round, and Severus was already growing hard again.
Severus moved forward, and Harry spread his legs eagerly, wrapping them around Severus and wailing when the other man thrust into him, burying himself to the hilt. Those hands were back, digging into his hips, and his arms were strained as his body jerked up and down with Severus' thrusts. It had been a long time since Harry had lain with a wizard, and the first time that said wizard knew who – and what – he was. That freed Severus to use magic, and he used it efficiently.
Harry let his appreciation for the man's brutal pace be known, writhing and tightening around Severus deliberately, forcing the other man to come a second time, a strangled cry in his throat. This time, Severus didn't bother to give Harry release, removing the chains from around his wrists.
As the chains disappeared, one at a time, Harry wrapped his arms around Severus' neck, enjoying the feel of the softened cock inside of him. Severus wrapped one arm around him and brought him over to the desk, laying him on his back, still inside of him. "I'm not young enough for so many rounds without some…help," he murmured, holding up a potion.
Harry stared at the potion for a moment, and then grinned widely – it was an aphrodisiac. Severus took two sips of the potion and then dropped it to the floor. All of his vials were spelled to be unbreakable, so he didn't have to worry about anything other than a spill, and he knew they were sealed tightly enough.
His hands came to rest on either side of Harry's head as he stared down at him. "Are you sure you wish to go another round?" he asked, and Harry grinned up at him, nodding.
"You've come twice," the cheeky brat pointed out. "I've only come once." Severus smirked; what Harry said was true, but soon it would be three to two. Already he was hardening inside of Harry, growing aroused. Still only half-hard, he made a couple of experimental thrusts. Harry's eyes widened and he threw his head back, connecting sharply with the top of the desk. Severus ignored it, picking up his pace as he grew fully aroused inside of Harry.
This time, he took Harry's hand and brought it to the wizard's own erection, watching as Harry got the hint and fisted himself, his grip firm and his pace steady. Leaning down, Severus fisted his hands into Harry's hair and kissed the other wizard breathless, still thrusting in and out of his body.
Harry's legs bent, lifting to rise over his shoulders, and Severus used the opportunity to bend the smaller man nearly in half, thrusting into him at a sharp angle, his balls slapping against Harry's ass. Harry wailed at the new angle, which allowed for deeper penetration, and found release.
Coming down from his own high, Harry was only vaguely aware of the moment that Severus found his own release, groaning. Panting, both of them sated now, Harry tried to catch his breath. Severus slipped out of him, but he remained bent over, his head resting on Harry's chest.
"How about now?" Severus finally asked, glancing up. Harry nodded; he was ready to talk now. But first, he wanted a promise. Severus must have read his expression, because he said seriously, "I can't promise not to tell anybody, but I can promise not to tell anybody anything that they don't need to know."
Harry thought about this, and then nodded his acceptance. He trusted Severus' judgment on who needed to know what. Standing, Severus moved over to the bed, but it was Harry who cast the spell that cleaned and remade it, pulling down the blankets so that they could climb under the cool sheets.
Severus looked at him sharply, and Harry held up a hand idly. On his finger was a gold band, and attached to the band was a simple stone that glittered brightly. Severus stared at it for a moment, before realizing that the stone's color reminded him of a phoenix's feather. Red and gold swirled together in a near-constant movement, dancing together before separating for a moment before blending once more. So Harry had transformed his wand into a ring, and put a spell over it to keep it unnoticeable to everybody unless he chose to show them.
Harry stood and moved towards the bed, settling in next to Severus and snuggling against him. Severus allowed the movement, and Harry sighed contentedly, his head resting on Severus' chest while the Potions Master's arm came around his shoulders companionably, warm and solid.
Since Harry wasn't talking, Severus figured it was up to him to start the conversation. "Do you do this often?" he asked, genuinely curious. He also figured that if he started out easy, then perhaps Harry would be more willing to talk about the harder stuff when they got to it. Slytherin cunning at its best.
Harry shook his head, his hair brushing against Severus' chest. "Not really. I mean, I typically come here about once a month, to find companionship. I don't…relate well to people anymore, but here, I don't have to. Everybody here is pretty much looking for a good time, or for a one-night stand. When I really need to be around people, I come here. It's close to Hogwarts, too."
Severus understood without Harry having to explain. Even now, the emerald-eyed teenager still considered Hogwarts home. Perhaps, if he had remained undiscovered for a few more years, he would have wound up there anyhow, unable to stay away from his home anymore. Still, it had been a risky venture, but judging by the way Harry had reacted to him tonight, he had been well aware that he might be recognized by somebody he knew.
"Why me? Why tonight?" he asked next. He wasn't sure that this qualified as an easy question, but he really wanted to know. After all, one wouldn't think that Harry Potter would consent to have sex with his most hated professor.
Harry frowned, thinking over the question seriously before he answered. "Because you're not who I thought you were," he replied, his words slow and careful as he picked through his thoughts, trying to be as open and honest as possible. "After I saw your memories, I realized that you had really, truly loved my mother. And I realized that all those years, though you were grossly unfair to me, you also saw me as just another kid. I was just a snot-nosed brat who repeatedly broke the rules, throwing myself and my friends into danger without so much as thinking about the consequences."
Harry sighed, his next admission nearly whispered. "That last year, after I brought you back, you weren't the same man. At first, I thought that perhaps I had done the spell wrong, and that you weren't really you. But then, I realized that you were still Severus Snape. But you were no longer a Death Eater or a spy. You could finally be the man that you were meant to be."
"You didn't pick on me that year. You corrected me when I was wrong, certainly, and your tongue was as cutting as always, but you had…mellowed some. It was as if some great weight had been lifted off your shoulders. I suppose it had," he added as an afterthought, with a small smile.
He looked up at Severus, one hand reached up and pressing gently against his cheek. "You changed, and I noticed. And more than that, without the blind hatred that had clouded my vision for years, I saw you for the attractive man you were. And so, a part of me had always hoped that you'd find me, that perhaps we could be friends, if nothing else. But…you were attracted to me, too, weren't you?" he asked, realization dawning as he read something that flickered in Severus' eyes.
The Potions Master sighed, muttering acquiescence. "When you returned, after Voldemort's defeat," he said, not even stumbling over the name, "you had changed. You were quieter and you studied hard, and your marks in potions improved. I could not find fault with the new you, and as a result, I began to see what I hadn't seen before. I started to see Harry Potter, the wizard, Lily's son, instead of Harry Potter, the child of my worst enemy. My perceptions of you changed, and I found myself intrigued, and then attracted to you. But then you left," he frowned, and Harry ducked his head.
"Sorry about that," he muttered. "I just, I couldn't take it anymore. I had promised myself and my mum and dad that I'd finish school, but after that, I didn't know what I wanted to do. So I just left, and started wandering aimlessly. I was like a tourist, traveling to see amazing sights all over the world. Whenever I'd grow bored of one place, I'd move to another."
He looked up at Severus as he spoke, but the eyes that met his were calm and understanding. Harry swallowed; he knew where they were headed, and decided to just answer. "I don't know if I want to come back," he answered. "Once I defeated Voldemort, I just…didn't feel like I belonged anymore. There's nothing that I really want to do, nowhere that I want to go. I don't plan on settling down, and I don't like being tied to one place. But, I don't really belong in the Muggle world, either. I feel like those war veterans that come back with nightmares and hallucinations. I can't settle down anywhere, because the nightmares catch up, and I start running again."
He buried his head against Severus' chest, his next words muffled. "I feel like such a coward," he mumbled. The arm that was wrapped around him tightened, holding him securely, and Harry relaxed.
"Then don't settle down," Severus suggested. Harry looked up at him, surprised and curious. "Come stay with me. I moved back into my old home, from when I was a child. I've repaired it, and it's livable. It could probably use some decorating, though," he mused. "And when you feel the urge to leave, I won't stop you. Just let me know you're going, and keep me informed. That's all I ask."
Harry stared up at him, his eyes wide as Severus' words sunk in. Had the man just invited him to live with him? After having just met again? Then again, he realized, they had known each other for a very long time. The idea had merit, at least. Harry knew that Severus' home was in an area populated by Muggles. He'd have anonymity, and a wizard for a companion and lover. And if Severus meant what he said, then he'd still be able to sate his wanderlust.
The thought wouldn't release Harry now that Severus had brought it up, and he found himself nodding hesitantly. At the very least, he thought, it was a start. If he found that he couldn't handle it, then he'd say his good-byes and leave. Then he frowned; but what about his other lusts? Would Severus try and stop him from visiting here? Or from picking up a companion now and again?
Severus must have seen and correctly interpreted his glance towards the door. "I won't stop you, if you wish to seek out other companions. But I would hope that perhaps, you would choose me first over a random stranger." When Harry turned to stare at him, his mind nearly overwhelmed, Severus added awkwardly, "I can be…both top and bottom, if you were afraid that things would always be this way between us."
Harry smiled; a tall, dark, and handsome wizard, with a witty personality and a gorgeous body who could both take and be taken? What fairytale his this man fallen out of? He nodded and lay his head back down, closing his eyes. "Sounds good. But if you don't mind, I'd like to wait for a few days, if that's okay."
When Severus didn't answer, he smiled, "I hope you're free tomorrow. I was planning on exploring some caves that I've been told have stunning crystals in them. Perhaps they're something you can harvest for a potion?" he teased lightly.
Severus responded then, his fingers brushing through Harry's hair. "Are you inviting me to come along with you, Mr. Potter?" he asked, his voice teasing.
Harry swatted him lightly on the chest. "I am indeed, Professor," he teased. "But if you don't call me Harry, I'll just leave you get lost in there."
The arms tightened around him again, and Harry sighed contentedly. "Very well, then…Harry. I suppose that I shall come along tomorrow, if only to ensure that you don't disappear for another two years." Harry smiled; he could understand that. Settling down, Harry closed his eyes again, and they drifted off like that, companionably. Harry was home at last.