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“You should come with ‘Mione next week,” Ron says, shoving another scone in his mouth as he and Harry had tea in Harry’s flat, upstairs from the bookshop that he runs, in Hogsmeade. “I know that everyone would love to see you...”
Harry smiled, absentmindedly nodding his head; it had been a while since he’d been over to the Burrow for a Weasley Sunday supper. Since the end of the Second Wizarding War, Bill and Fleur had welcomed their first child, Victoire; Charlie had been promoted to Hungarian Horntail expert at the dragon preserve in Romania; Percy had assisted in the reforms at the Ministry of Magic while seeing a young woman named Audrey Wright; George was working alongside Ron at the Wheezes in Diagon, and was in a committed relationship with Angelina Johnson, while the former Quidditch captain for the Gryffindor Team at Hogwarts was now a successful healer for St. Mungo’s; and then there was Ginny, now the sports writer for The Daily Prophet, now married to Draco Malfoy, who had succeeded his father on the Board of Governor’s for Hogwarts, while they both raised their young son, Scorpius.
“Please tell me that you’ve picked the ring,” Harry put in, smirking over at his closest friend as he tried his best not to snort in his cup of tea.
“I have,” Ron replied. “I spoke to her parents just after her birthday, getting permission. They were really pleased about it. I also told Mum and Dad, and they’re very happy, too. They even gave me access to the Prewett vaults at Gringotts. I found the most stunning ruby ring in a gold setting, all surrounded by pearls.”
“I’m sure ‘Mione will love it,” Harry said, nodding with approval.
“Has Snape been in here at all, then?” Ron queried, nodding in the direction of the floor, which indicated the bookshop and not his flat. “I know that you get a shipment of rare books in every month, and the potions and Dark Arts ones are out of this world...”
“He came in two weeks ago, for the latest shipment,” Harry confirmed.
Ron nodded, remembering when Harry had told both him and Hermione about how Snape had been the Half-Blood Prince, which had driven him to save the man during the Battle of Hogwarts, and he had retained the post as headmaster. “Is he still very cantankerous?” he wanted to know.
Harry raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised you know that word...”
Ron made a face. “Hermione has been instrumental in my vocabulary education, thank you very much,” he pouted. “Now, about Snape’s behavior...”
“He’s short with me whenever I have other customers,” Harry replied, knowing entirely well that the headmaster had a reputation to uphold. “But, when we’re alone, he’s different...”
Ron was about to say something further, but the sounds of purring filled the room, and Ron looked down, spotting Harry’s black cat, Melaina, rubbing herself against his legs. Ron smiled indulgently down at the feline and pulled her gently into his arms. “At least you’re not entirely alone up here,” he mused. “Ginny’s been trying to get Skeeter’s successor to shut up about you marrying some witch and living in a country estate somewhere...”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Not happening,” he said firmly, and Ron nodded at him. “You know as well as anyone who matters to me that, if I ever get married, it’ll be to a wizard.” He sighed, looking out at the autumn afternoon wistfully; it was a Hogsmeade weekend, but Harry always closed the shop between two and three daily for teatime, and he could easily spot Snape going into The Three Broomsticks from where he sat. “Not that I would mind living in a country estate, but it would have to be with my wizard husband...”
“And we all know that you’re only interested in one wizard in particular, mate,” Ron said gently to him, scratching behind Melaina’s ears. “Now, do you know if you can come to the Burrow on Sunday or not? Mum’s eager to see you...”
Harry sighed, tearing his eyes away from the window. “Is Melaina welcome?” he asked at last, forcing a smile onto his face.
“Of course,” Ron assured him. “‘Mione’s bringing Crookshanks...”
Harry said goodbye to Ron as Ron Floo’d back to the shop in Diagon Alley, before he and his familiar returned downstairs to the shop. Harry indicated that the shop was, once again, open for business. He smiled while Melaina curled up in her usual spot in the window, so that she could either nap or gaze at the passerby. Harry went behind his desk and spelled some dust off some of the tomes for the new Halloween display he was in the midst of putting together, and he easily heard the bell ringing at the front of the shop, indicating that he had a customer.
“Welcome to Papyrus & Ledgers, how may I assist you this afternoon?” Harry asked, looking up, and swallowed as he spotted Snape holding a quite contented Melaina. “Good afternoon, Headmaster Snape. Will you be needing my assistance today?”
The headmaster looked up at Harry, clearly pleased to have a warm cat in his arms. “I merely am here to drop this off,” he said, temporarily dislocating one of his hands from Melaina’s fur, and snapped his long, potion-stained fingers.
Harry straightened up, watching as a cream-colored envelope flew out of the headmaster’s robes and glided across his shop towards him. Harry easily caught it, seeing the blood-red seal of the Hogwarts headmaster staring back at him, and nodded his head. Turning it over, his name, Harry J. Potter, Papyrus & Ledgers, 101 Hogsmeade, Britain. “Well, that’s...very kind of you, sir. But what, may I ask, is this for?”
“The annual Halloween Ball, of course,” the man responded, most of his attention entirely consumed by the black cat in his arms. “Ever since Minerva retired, she made me promise to adhere to the old rules—the ones that were in place before you lot entered the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. This means three balls during the duration of the school year—one for Halloween, one for Christmas, and one for the graduates. Of course, only seventh-years are permitted to attend all three whilst still students...”
Harry nodded his head. “Of course, headmaster, forgive me. Naturally, since this is the first term that Minerva is no longer on staff, it is the first one with such a ball.”
The headmaster looked up at Harry. “Quite,” he responded, permitting Melaina to hop back onto the window ledge. “You, Madam Rosmerta, and Aberforth will be the representatives of Hogsmeade at the castle that evening, should the three of you decide to attend.”
Harry gave a short nod. “I think I’m free that evening, sir. Thank you very much for the invitation, it was very kind of you.”
The man inclined his head. “You will find any further instructions, or answers to any questions you may have, within the confines of your invitation. Until the day of the ball, then, Potter,” he responded, and, in a dramatic sweep of his dark robes, left the shop.
Harry broke the seal of the envelope, and the invitation, in similar parchment form, zoomed out of there. It held itself in mid-air, waiting for Harry to read it, its black ink unmistakably belonging to the current headmaster.
Dear Mr. Potter,
You have been invited to the Halloween Ball at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, on Friday evening, the thirty-first of October, 2003.
You must attend in a costume, a costume with a mask, as the event in question is a traditional masquerade. See Madam Malkin for costume robes, as she outfits the adult attendees of the event whenever it is held.
You are permitted to bring one person to attend with you. Familiars who would be welcome at Hogwarts are also welcome.
As an employee for Hogsmeade, you will be seen as an example to impressionable young witches and wizards, so you must act accordingly in their presence.
We do hope you will join us.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
Headmaster
Harry folded the letter, looking up as some of the final stragglers of the Hogwarts Hogsmeade weekend entered his shop. He spoke to them all kindly and considerately, knowing entirely well which books Snape considered to be inappropriate for what years. Of course, if they came to his shop in the summer months with their families, he left it up to their parent or guardians on what they could or couldn’t buy. Once the final sale shortly before five o’clock happened, Harry locked up for the night, calling to Melaina, who promptly listened to her master and followed him up the stairs and back to the flat.
In the months from September to late-March, with the exception of the Christmas holidays, Harry was open from nine in the morning until five in the evening. When the first week of December occurred, however, as well as late-March until late-August, Harry opened at seven in the morning, and remained open until eight-thirty in the evening. Sales were immensely popular in the month of December, and many young ones from Hogwarts would come in and merely purchase something small, so as to be given the opportunity to pet Melaina, which Harry never minded, while the black cat in question adored it.
Harry started the fireplace up again, and watched indulgently as his familiar curled up upon the hearth rug, taking a quick cat nap as he prepared their supper. Since Melaina was a magical familiar, her diet was a bit different than that of a standard house cat. She couldn’t eat the processed tuna that came in cans for those animals, and, with Kneazles and half-Kneazles like Crookshanks, would have to eat fresh meat and fish. Traditionally, it was chicken, turkey, salmon, cod, or tuna, which the small greengrocer’s in Hogsmeade, The Magic Neep, had a butcher’s and a fish market, so Harry never ran out of little tidbits for his familiar, who was exceedingly grateful whenever the butcher or fishmonger came into the shop.
Harry cut up a bit of salmon for Melaina that evening, while he himself cobbled together a large sandwich on freshly baked bread. He had some roast chicken from Sunday dinner the night before, pieces that he had not put aside for the soup he always made to last the week, which he paired with Dijon mustard, garlic-lemon mayonnaise, as well as zucchini, yellow squash, tomato, and onions. All the vegetables had been bought fresh from the produce section at the greengrocer’s, while Harry had baked the bread himself the day before. He paired the sandwich with a large cup of the soup he’d made from yesterday’s roast chicken, which had been simmering all day long upon the hob of his kitchen.
Melaina came running at the slight click of his tongue, and Harry placed down her plate of salmon for her dinner. Harry himself took a seat at the small, four-person table beside the window, the curtains parted as they always were before bedtime, and he gazed down at the autumn night as more and more leaves flew from the oak trees which grew around the wizarding village. In front of him was the plate filled with his sandwich, as well as the steaming bowl of soup beside that, and a chilled bottle of pumpkin juice to round out his evening meal. Since his shop and flat were right beside The Three Broomsticks, he could not only see that establishment but also along the main road, towards the bridge, as well as the Hogsmeade Station, and the large castle just beyond that.
Harry knew that he lived a less exciting and glamorous life than the Ministry of Magic, or The Daily Prophet, wanted him to live, and it had taken him a great deal of time to get over his feelings associated with that. Naturally, when Kingsley Shacklebolt had taken up the helm of Minister of Magic, and had acquitted the entire Malfoy family, plus Snape, of any wrongdoing, he formally asked Harry, Ron, Hermione, and, surprisingly to many, Neville to join the Auror Department, without their NEWTs. Ron had accepted, joining the Auror Academy immediately, before quitting after two years to help out George in the shop.
Neville had thanked Kingsley generously for the offer, but declined, beginning an apprenticeship with Professor Sprout in Herbology, which surprised no one close to him. He was now in his second year of teaching the subject at Hogwarts since Sprouts’ retirement, and was also the new Head of Hufflepuff House as well. He had finally managed to gain the courage, post-battle, to tell Luna Lovegood how much he fancied her, and Luna, in between her work alongside her father with The Quibbler, had become Hagrid’s assistant at the castle in Care of Magical Creatures; the pair made quite a lovely couple. They’d gotten engaged over the Christmas holidays the year before and had married the previous spring, with Harry and Ron as Neville’s Best Men, and Dean and Seamus, now a couple as well, as Groomsmen; Ginny and Hermione had been Luna’s co-Maids of Honor for the ceremony.
Hermione, meanwhile, was deeply honored by the request to join the Ministry of Magic, but refused to do so without her NEWTs. She had returned to Hogwarts the following term, once reversing the Memory Charm she had placed upon her parents and bringing them back from Australia, and had completed a total of ten NEWTs—Advanced Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Ancient Studies, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Magical Theory, Potions, and Transfiguration. Achieving an Outstanding in each subject, the Wizarding World was truly Hermione’s oyster, and she had opted for a position with the Unspeakables, meaning that she wasn’t allowed to discuss her work with anyone without proper clearance from the department itself.
And then there was Harry, who didn’t know what he wanted to do, now that the war was over, and despite the fact that he’d informed Professor McGonagall that he had wanted to be an Auror post-graduation. In between the rebuilding of Hogwarts, Harry had received a special dispensation to take his NEWTs over the summer which, in addition to his vehemence in clearing both the Malfoy family, as well as Snape, was the only thing he’d asked for in the wake of saving the Wizarding World. Once Harry got his NEWTs (Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Potions, and Transfiguration, all Outstandings) he had gone to Gringotts and settled his properties with the goblins, as well as his inheritance. After that, Harry had traveled around Europe, wanting desperately to see some of the world, before he returned home in August, two years after he’d left, and opened up his book shop in Hogsmeade, starting with several books from the Black family library, as well as the Potter vaults.
During his travels, Harry had come to terms with his sexuality, as well as the notion that he was hopelessly in love with Severus Snape. However, he didn’t hold out any hopes that the man would ever return his feelings, and so he permitted himself, for the first time, to live. He had had a few casual flings, usually one per country, while abroad, and all with Muggle men, as he didn’t want word reaching The Daily Prophet. He didn’t consider himself a slut; everyone involved had been a consenting adult, although Harry had merely said that he had served in the British army and, as such, decidedly did not want to talk about his past. Thankfully, no one had pressed him too much, and, if they had, he could just Apparate to his next chosen destination.
Melaina, meanwhile, had come into his life within weeks of his return to the Wizarding World in Britain, just after he’d set up shop in Hogsmeade. It had been a bitterly cold autumn night, with thunder and lightning storms, and the rain had pounded upon his roof. Harry, meanwhile, realized he was out of eggs, and so decided to make the trek down to the greengrocer’s to fetch some after closing time. The steady clip that he walked ensured that he wasn’t in the rain for too long, and he picked up a few essentials for the rest of the week as well, unknowing when he would have the opportunity to shop again. He was particularly enthused about the fishmonger’s fresh catch of cod, and he added that to his basket as well.
As he left the greengrocer’s, his umbrella somehow managing to fend off the worst of the rain, he patted his groceries, shrunk and placed in the pocket of his rain jacket. He walked towards the door to his shop and reached inside his other pocket for his wand, and it was then that a sharp, pitiful cry between the alleys of The Three Broomsticks and his own shop filled the air and startled him. It was then that he spotted the abandoned black kitten, huddled as close to the recess of the buildings as it could possibly get.
Harry immediately charged forward, grabbing ahold of the kitten before it could get away, and easily deduced that it was a stray caught in the rain. He unlocked the shop quickly and locked it up behind him without a second thought, shaking out his umbrella and banishing it upstairs to its stand as he hurried after it. He lit up the fire and summoned a fresh rag, which he used to dry the little black mite, who seemed to purr after several moments, obviously understanding that Harry was being of help to her. Once it was dried off, Harry checked it over, deducing that it was a female and that she had no broken bones or other signs of injury, although she was fairly thin, which made Harry’s heart go out to her.
Harry sacrificed some of his cod to the kitten, once he gave a panicked Floo Call to Hermione, who immediately sent over a copy of Feline Familiars for Beginners. In the weeks that followed, Harry had given the kitten a name, as well as a collar so that the wizardkind of Hogsmeade would know that she was the latest edition to his life, as well as to his shop. Melaina had certainly made the loneliness dissipate, for he knew now that perhaps the location of his shop had been a bad idea, due to the close proximity to the unattainable Hogwarts headmaster, the literal man of his dreams.
The rest of the evening wasn’t torturous, and he Floo’d over to the Burrow on Sunday for the dinner that he’d promised to attend, Melaina riding his shoulders as-per-usual. Stepping through the parlor and into the dining room, he permitted hugs and kisses on his cheeks, as well as Hermione taking Melania into her arms. He was pleased that his two closest friends seemed to love his familiar as much as he did, and, as he bounced Teddy on his knee, Andromeda looking on indulgently, he watched as Scorpius and Victoire played together on the carpet.
“Victoire is pretty,” four-year-old Teddy whispered to him.
Harry chuckled; there were running bets on when Teddy and Victoire would begin dating, but, like Fleur, Hermione, Ginny, Molly, and Andromeda, Harry hoped that it wouldn’t happen until they were both at Hogwarts. “Yes, she’s very pretty,” he agreed.
“How old do you have to be to get married?” Teddy asked.
Harry did his best to smother his laughter; he didn’t want his godson thinking that he was laughing at him. “Old, very old,” he said instead, not wishing to put a proper number on it, and not wanting the boy to think he had only fourteen years left, although Victoire would need fifteen herself.
Teddy huffed at that. “Not too old, I hope, Uncle Harry.”
Molly’s roast dinners were always fantastic, and Harry quickly learned that many of the dinner guests that evening had been invited to the Halloween Ball. “Arthur and I won’t be going, of course, because we’ve agreed to look after Victoire and Scorpius,” the Weasley matriarch informed the company.
“We can hire a sitter, Mum,” Ginny put in, “and Victoire could easily stay at the manor with Scorpius for the evening...”
“Nonsense,” Arthur put in, his voice gentle as he soothed his only daughter. “You and Draco deserve a night out. You’ve both been working so hard lately. You too, Bill, Fleur. Have some fun at the ball, for all of us.”
“Were you invited, too, Harry dear?” Molly wanted to know, offering him a second helping of roast potatoes.
Harry nodded, accepting the potatoes. “I was, yes. Snape came to deliver the invitation to me personally during the Hogsmeade weekend last week.”
“You got a personal invitation? Blimey, mate!” Ron said with his mouth full.
Hermione immediately grimaced at her boyfriend. “Honestly, Ronald,” she said, looking decidedly irritated at his manners, or lack thereof. “Was anyone else from Hogsmeade invited, Harry?” she asked her best friend gently.
“Snape said that Madam Rosmerta and Aberforth were invited,” Harry replied.
“Well, there you are,” Hermione replied diplomatically. “Snape was likely delivering their invitations as well.” Hermione gave Harry a small smile; although she knew and was supportive of his love for Snape, she had always been a bit more practical about things.
“I thought so as well,” Harry said, nodding; at this point in his life, he wasn’t about to get his hopes up. “I did send an owl to Madam Malkin. She’ll be taking my measurements next weekend and I’ll settle on a costume then.”
The week seemed to fly by, and Harry arrived at Madam Malkin’s at midday on Saturday, ready to be poked and prodded for his costume. Stepping inside the establishment, he spotted the little witch fumbling with something, pins in her mouth. She waved to Harry as he entered, and let him know that she would be with him shortly. Harry nodded back at her words and meandered throughout the shop in the meantime, running his fingers over the expensive threads and silks of some garments, very impressed.
“All right, Mr. Potter, let’s see what we’re working with, then, shall we?” the diminutive witch asked him shortly thereafter, taking out her magical measuring tape and utilizing it. She nodded in approval after a few moments, satisfied. “Did you have any ideas about a costume yet?”
Harry was pleased when Madam Malkin wasn’t disappointed in him when he opted for a Muggle outfit for the occasion. He purchased a pair of dark wash denims, a blue T-shirt, a brown leather jacket, and a new pair of trainers, which he had to buy in Muggle London. His mask was a standard black one, and, if anyone asked, he would say that he was a secret agent. Pleased to have the final thing completed for the evening in question, although he would be swapping out Melaina’s collar for a ribbon.
Upon his arrival back in Hogsmeade, Harry was shocked to see Snape again, although this time he was in conversation with an attractive gentleman outside the apothecary. The man whispered something, which the headmaster seemed to enjoy very much, for he laughed. Harry felt his cheeks flaming as the younger gentleman gripped Snape’s forearm, and the man didn’t seem at all upset by that fact.
“You’re a regular customer at Harry Potter’s shop?” the gentleman asked, and Harry’s cheeks flamed further at the question, ducking behind the side of a building and utilizing a Cloaking Spell, so as he could listen in without being spotted.
“Now and again,” Snape responded. “He has some useful books for the various subjects up at the school, and I have added a fair few to my personal library.”
“He spoke very highly of you during the trials after the battle,” the gentleman continued. “I suppose the feelings are mutual?”
“Everyone in the Wizarding World is grateful to him for the fall of Voldemort,” Snape replied. “I suppose only fools wouldn’t be.”
“If only he was doing something worthwhile,” the gentleman mused.
Snape blinked, and Harry’s heart pounded at that. “What do you mean?” the headmaster asked, obviously confused.
“Well, I suppose that, like everyone else, I believed that Potter would join the Aurors, or another department at the ministry,” the younger man said with a shrug. “Perhaps it’s silly of me, but I thought that he would continue to make the Wizarding World a better place, but, instead, he mocked it once he was out of the country.”
Snape looked surprised at that. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“Due to my background, I have friends and relatives in various European countries,” the man informed him quickly, almost as if he was quite proud to inform the Headmaster of Hogwarts about all the supposed sordid details. “Once Potter helped with the rebuilding, testified at the trials, and got his NEWTs, he did some traveling.”
Snape gave a short nod. “Understandable. It was my perception, as per his former Head of House, that, with the exception of Scotland, he’d never left England, or traveled at all. I can see why one might, after all that time, and after all he did.”
“I am not disputing such a thing; it was quite reasonable,” he went on. “It was his behavior whilst he was traveling throughout Europe which was troubling. He was seen going into Muggle gay bars and taking various men home, or going back to theirs.”
Harry felt his blood boiling at this. He had thought he had been discreet but, apparently, gossip was always something that could swarm.
“He is a young man,” Snape replied with a shrug, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief at that. “I suppose that he didn’t have time to sow any wild oats during the war.”
“But two or three in one night?” the gentleman prodded, and Harry very much wanted to hex the man; there had only been one Muggle on occasion, and certainly never more than one during his nights overseas.
Snape cleared his throat. “I hardly think...”
“Well, perhaps it’s for the best that Potter never went into the ministry,” the gentleman interrupted, shaking his head. “He would likely have made fools of Wizardkind by the time he hit his twenty-first birthday. Better he clean dusty old books than do anything else. It’s all he’s good for, really. That, and spreading his legs to undesirable Muggles.”
Slamming his thoughts away, Harry stormed past them, hardly caring if he was noticed, and returned to his shop, which he tore through, and thundered upstairs to his flat. He put up the wards and was pleased that they weren’t penetrated for the rest of the day. The following day, he sent an owl to the Burrow, stating that he wasn’t feeling well and would be having a quiet Sunday in his flat, just him and Melaina.
The final week before the Halloween Ball was pure torture, as Harry spotted the younger gentleman wandering around Hogsmeade for the duration. Angry at himself, Harry very nearly considered getting a date for himself, once it became clear that the gentleman in question was going to be attending the ball with the headmaster, as he’d seen them lunching at The Three Broomsticks more than once together. Finally, Harry got an owl three days before the ball itself, from Dennis Creevey, asking if Harry was going with anyone, and Harry, not really considering it, said he wasn’t, although he was bringing along his familiar.
“Potter.”
Harry’s eyes snapped upwards; he couldn’t believe that he’d been unaware of someone entering his shop, and his mouth immediately went dry as he saw that it was Snape who stood there. “I suppose I should wish you good afternoon,” he said shortly.
The man’s eyes flashed. “Have I done something to offend you, Potter?”
Harry immediately gritted his teeth. “No, of course not, sir. Whyever would you think such a thing?” he asked.
Snape looked decidedly annoyed. “Perhaps due to your tone of voice.”
Harry did his very best not to roll his eyes. “I cannot fathom why you would even think my voice is any different. Have you suddenly been paying attention? I’m hardly worth anything to the Wizarding World anymore as it is. I’ve done my duty. Now all I’m good for is selling off dusty old books and spreading my legs to undesirable Muggles.”
Snape’s eyes darkened. “Listening in to other people’s conversations, Potter? My, my. After all this time, I expected better of you.”
Harry wanted to hex the man all the more; there was no forthcoming apology. Not from himself for not defending him, or for his supposed friends’ disparaging words. “I think you know where the door is, Snape,” he said firmly, and felt a certain amount of satisfaction when the man slammed it behind him.
Harry summoned a piece of parchment and quill in the next moment, writing Dear Dennis at the top, and didn’t notice that Melaina appeared troubled by that fact.
Harry met Dennis at the gates of Hogwarts on Friday night, and the pair of them walked into the Halloween Ball together. The Great Hall was, as it had been in their Hogwarts days, decorated quite tastefully, and Harry was mightily pleased for the mandate placed upon masks. Melaina, meanwhile, was curled around his shoulders; however, much to Harry’s surprise, she wouldn’t go near Dennis, which was quite unheard of for her, as Harry had socialized her early and often.
Harry very nearly chuckled at the notion that The Weird Sisters had been hired that evening, although it was hollow. Fourth-year as a whole had been not only devastating but also a traumatizing experience for Harry, one that he would never wish on anyone. I suppose that makes me a better person than Voldemort. I’m glad he’s dead, he thought darkly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.
Harry could feel Snape’s eyes upon him from where he stood, with his date, who was trying his very best to get his attention, causing mixed feelings to erupt within him.
“Do you want to dance?” Dennis asked over the music.
Harry turned and surveyed the room, seeing that Snape had now migrated into a dark corner with the young man who was his date. “Sure! Why not?” he called back to Dennis, drinking the last of his pumpkin juice and making his way over to the dance floor with his own date.
I’ve got to get to grips
I don’t want to feel like this
Your voice keeps haunting me
I cannot eat or sleep
I’m going crazy in this hazy fantasy
You put a spell on me
Aw but I ain’t going down at all
Harry looked up as he felt Melaina shift upon his shoulders, and watched as Dennis reached out to pet her. His jaw dropped then as Melaina hissed, scratching at Dennis, before jumping off Harry’s shoulders and diving through the other dancers. “Oh, Merlin!” Harry cried out, and pulled away from Dennis. “Sorry,” he said awkwardly, and hurried after her.
“Harry?” called Hermione’s voice, as she and Ron came upon him through the crowd. “What is it? What happened?”
“Dennis tried to pet Melaina, but she hissed, scratched him, and then took off,” Harry responded, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s going on with her...”
Ron grimaced. “Better you than me, mate. Oi!” he shouted, rubbing his side.
Hermione promptly pulled back the arm which had successfully elbowed Ron in the ribs, her engagement ring flashing in the light; Harry didn’t even want to dwell on the fact that Ron had finally plucked up the courage to ask her, or that she’d accepted, not now. “We’ll help you look for her, Harry,” Hermione assured him. “Come on, Ron! You can have some treats later!” she said, and pulled him away from the tables of treats.
“Can you both start searching in here?” Harry asked. “I’ll check the Entrance Hall.”
“No problem, mate,” Ron said, although he still was rubbing his bruised ribs.
Harry flew out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, looking around. “Melaina, this isn’t funny!” he hissed over the music behind him. “How could you be so mean to Dennis? He never did anything to you...” Harry continued looking along the corridor, peeking into the alcoves lit by torches, before turning the corner, and crashing into the headmaster.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” the man asked.
Harry swallowed and looked up, finding himself to be momentarily relieved that the man’s companion for the evening was nowhere to be found. Harry gaped, spotting Melaina in the headmaster’s arms. “Thank you for finding her,” he said, and, suddenly remembering that he was still angry with him, took her back from his arms. “Well... Goodbye then,” he said, and turned around to leave.
“Potter. Wait,” Snape said quietly, and gently took ahold of his shoulder. “I’d like to speak to you, if that’s all right.”
Harry stopped trying to get away, but he didn’t turn around to face the man. “I’m not sure your significant other would like that.”
“Significant other? Are you referring to Margito?” he asked, his tone of voice directly causing Harry to turn around.
“Well... Yes,” Harry answered awkwardly. “I’ve seen you two in Hogsmeade at The Three Broomsticks, and he is clearly your companion for the evening.”
Snape sighed. “Although he has expressed an interest, Margito Skeeter is hardly my type,” he replied, and Harry’s eyes widened. “What? Rita’s brother, Berlio, reproduced and had Margito about a decade before you were born.”
Harry swallowed. “Explains his penchant for gossip,” he said bitterly.
“Indeed,” Snape said, nodding. “I merely engaged him in conversation, as well as a few hideous lunches, in order to glean information. He’s a terrible gossip, and is also an unregistered Animagus—a mosquito,” he explained, and Harry was decidedly shocked. “Kingsley and some Aurors are in the Great Hall now, discreetly arresting him. He won’t be a bother to anyone ever again, if I have anything to say about it.”
Harry bit his lip; ever since Kingsley had become Minister of Magic, the crackdown on unregistered Animagi had been harsh, with Skeeter being sacked from The Daily Prophet and exiled to France as a part of a plea bargain, with instructions never to go into her form again, as well as work for any publications, Muggle or wizarding. “And his disparaging comments towards me?” he found himself asking.
Snape looked saddened. “Those were an unfortunate part of our conversations. I also had a feeling that he was spying on me, which is why I spoke to you so harshly, that day in your shop, and didn’t offer any form of apology.” He hesitated. “I am sorry, Harry,” he said at last, and Harry felt warm inside at the sound of the man calling him by his first name. “I am sorry those words were ever spoken, and I am sorry I did not defend you.”
“I can understand why you didn’t,” Harry said at last. “Thank you for your apology... Shall I apologize to you as well?”
Snape smirked. “I cannot fathom why you would need to do so.”
“Well, I am sorry that you were made to romance any Skeeter relation, given that you were so clearly in love with my mother,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.
Snape blinked. “In love with...? Harry, no! Are you in love with Miss Granger?”
This time, it was Harry’s turn to blink. “Hermione? No!” he cried. “I had this same conversation with Ron when we were searching for Horcruxes. She’s like my sister, and I can only hope that she still feels the same way about me.”
Snape smiled. “Well, there you are. I felt for your mother as I would a sister. I could never be with a woman, Harry, as I would be unable to...ah, rise to the occasion.”
“I see,” Harry replied, doing his utmost to remain level-headed. Easy, Potter, he thought to himself. Just because the man isn’t involved with that nightmare of a man, and that he’s practically admitted to being single, as well as gay, doesn’t mean—
“Are you all right, Harry?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. I’m quite well,” Harry said, doing his best to keep ahold of Melaina.
“Please, call me Severus,” the man responded, and put a gentle arm over Harry’s shoulders. “I think we’ve had enough of a party this evening, haven’t we?”
Harry blinked. “But... But what about the students?”
“Minerva is visiting for the night and has everything well in hand,” Severus assured him. “And, besides, she owes me a few favors.” Severus guided Harry towards the public Floo within the confines of the Entrance Hall, and took ahold of a generous handful of Floo Powder. “Prince Estate,” he said, pulling Harry in after him and tossing down the powder, and the pair of them vanished in green flames.
Harry was relieved that he didn’t tumble out, and that Severus was there to keep ahold of him. It was a bit daunting, however, when Melaina sprang from his arms and began to explore her surroundings. “Melaina, no—” he began.
“She’s quite all right. My elves will see to her,” Severus assured him.
Harry nodded as Severus turned him loose. “Where are we?” he asked at last.
“Northumberland, at the Prince Estate, which I inherited fully once my name was cleared, thanks to you,” Severus responded, smiling down at Harry. “You can’t see it because it’s so dark, but this manor is surrounded by many acres of land, plus a forest. I can harvest potions ingredients there, from my greenhouse, or even in my garden. This is my safe haven during the Christmas holidays, as well as during the summer ones. I had hoped that, one day, I’d meet the right wizard to share the home with, and live here full time once I retire into potions research. Perhaps have some children to fill the eighteen bedrooms this bloody place has...”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Eighteen?”
“During the time this estate was built, Harry, most wizarding and Muggle families had more children, due to lack of birth control, as well as infant mortality,” Severus explained patiently. “I, of course, never intended to have that many children, but three or four would likely suffice, if I met the right wizard, of course.”
“And when was it built?” Harry asked, gazing longingly at the spines of the ancient-looking tomes upon the shelves surrounding them, several of which he knew he’d sold to Severus, which filled him with excitement.
“Nearly ninety years after Hogwarts was founded,” Severus told him. “It came into the Prince family then, as the first Head of the House of Prince, Alaric, and his wife, Isolde, resided here with their ten or so children. I am descended from one of their sons, Cyprian.”
Harry swallowed. “I always wanted to tell you, but it never seemed to be the right time...” He hesitated before he turned to Severus and began stepping closer. “You have to know, you’re so bloody brilliant. You do know that I’m in love with you, don’t you?”
Severus slowly smiled at that. “I’d rather hoped so,” he admitted, and Harry stepped closer to him still. “Of course, I never imagined that you ever could be, given our differences in age, as well as our former animosity towards one another. Not to mention the fact that you—”
“Severus?” Harry said softly, once he’d reached him completely.
“Yes?” the man asked.
“No more explanations,” he whispered back, standing on his toes, and wrapped his arms around the man, kissing him.
Severus chuckled as he effortlessly lifted Harry up into his arms, and took him out of the parlor and up the grand staircase, briefly mentioning and gesturing towards points of interest along the way. Finally, he waved his hands at the end of the topmost corridor, and a pair of doors opened, leading the way to what Harry assumed was the master bedroom suite, as he quickly saw the en suite and walk-in closet before Severus dumped him onto the bed.
Harry reached upwards, catching Severus’s hands in his, and slowly lifted the older man’s mask off his face, while Severus did the same to him. “I...”
“Yes?”
Harry swallowed. “I want you,” he whispered.
Severus’s eyes darkened impossibly at Harry’s words, and he proceeded to slowly divest Harry of his costume. “What in Merlin’s name were you supposed to be, anyway?” the man asked, though he chuckled.
“A secret agent,” Harry said, pouting slightly.
Severus chuckled again. “Ah. I see.” Once Harry was down to his pants, Severus proceeded to undress as well, swallowing as Harry slowly reached upwards, gently caressing the scars that Nagini had left behind. “Harry...”
“Do they still hurt?” Harry asked. “If they do, I’ll stop...”
“No, they don’t hurt me,” Severus assured him. “Just sensitive.” Severus leaned downwards then and began kissing every inch of Harry’s skin he could possibly get to, grinning periodically as Harry squirmed deliciously beneath him, and let out varying sounds of pleasure. “What do you want, Harry?” he asked at last, his hands poised at the top of his boxers.
Harry’s eyes locked with Severus’s. “I want you inside me,” he replied. “I want you to make love to me, Severus...”
Severus swallowed at that. “I...”
“There were other men, during my travels,” Harry said, feeling a bit ashamed, now that he realized he’d truly had a chance with the man he’d been in love with all along. “It was just sex with them. Sure, they were nice and I was nice. But I didn’t... I didn’t love them, so it didn’t count as making love. I’ve never made love before...”
Severus nodded. “Are you sure?”
Harry nodded, lifting his hips. “Please.”
Severus pulled off Harry’s boxers gently, before doing the same to his own. He cast a Cleaning Charm before he leaned downwards, inhaling the musk, and moved past Harry’s engorged member, and, instead, proceeded to tease his rim with his tongue.
“Severus...what?!”
Severus immediately pulled back. “The others, they never...?”
Harry shook his head. “No,” he whispered.
Severus slowly smiled at that rather delightful tidbit of information. “How very lucky for me, then,” he responded. “Do you like it?”
Harry swallowed. “Yes.”
“Wonderful.” Severus bent down again, teasing Harry’s rim once more, before delving in deeper, his tongue stretching the beautiful younger man’s arse, as he listened to Harry mewling with desire and pleasure below him.
“Please...can’t...please,” Harry begged, gripping at the bedclothes.
Severus summoned some lubricant, never wishing to cause Harry prologued discomfort, and slowly dragged his fingers through the liquid. Then, he added a finger to Harry, who urged him to be gentle, as it had been a while. Severus took the information in kind, only adding a second, and later a third, finger once Harry had given him permission to do so. “Are you ready for me, Harry?” he asked several minutes later, licking the tip of Harry’s dripping cock, and wanting to be inside him more than ever.
“Yes, please, Severus,” Harry groaned, shutting his eyes and curling his toes.
Severus gently withdrew his fingers from Harry’s arse before slathering himself up and positioned himself accordingly. Then, ever so slowly, he eased himself inside his new lover, and the pair of them groaned together at the heady sensations. “Oh, Merlin, Harry...”
“Oh, Severus, please...more,” Harry whispered.
Severus carefully settled inside Harry fully, and waited for the go ahead to withdraw again. Once it was given, however, it was open season, and Severus slowly began pistoning his hips. Severus trembled at the onslaught of emotions thrumming through him, hoping to Merlin that Harry felt the same as he did. Finally, he reached between them and grabbed ahold of Harry’s cock, once Harry had told him how close he was, and they came together, Harry erupting like a geyser between them, while Severus let out an almighty groan, emptying himself inside him.
Harry hummed with contentment as Severus cast a Cleaning Charm, before he wrapped his arms around him and they snuggled underneath the blankets. “Merlin, I had no idea it could ever be like that,” Harry whispered.
Severus pressed a kiss to Harry’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his waist. “Neither could I,” he responded. “I love you, Harry.”
Harry shuffled slightly, and pressed a kiss to Severus’s cheek. “I know,” he whispered back. “I love you too, Severus.”
“I know,” Severus replied with a chuckle.
Harry’s eyes fluttered, and he was about to go to sleep, due to the strenuous activity when, suddenly, he whispered, “Fuck...”
Severus stiffened. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” Harry assured him, turning slightly so that he could look up at Severus. “I never told Ron and Hermione I was leaving,” he explained, and started laughing, his heart threatening to explode when Severus joined him.
~*~
Seven Years Later
After a bonding ceremony the following Christmas, once Harry had told Severus he was pregnant, the two of them settled into life together. When their twins, Simon James and Elfrida Lily, were born in July, just a week before Harry’s birthday, Harry officially sold the shop in Hogsmeade and moved permanently into Prince Estate. Severus, meanwhile, had tendered his resignation at the Easter meeting of the professors, where it was announced that Professor Flitwick, who had assumed the post of Deputy Headmaster upon Minerva’s retirement, would be taking over Severus’s position come September. The new Deputy Headmaster would be Neville, and, much to Harry’s surprise, Severus had the utmost confidence in him.
In the years that followed, Ron and Hermione married as well, and were blessed with a daughter, Rose, and a son, Hugo. Ron became the official boss of the second Wheezes location in Hogsmeade, in the same building that Harry’s shop had been in, and it was doing extremely well profit-wise, with Harry still being a silent partner. Hermione, meanwhile, was a top Unspeakable in addition to being a fulltime mother, and absolutely adored her job.
Draco and Ginny were still very happily married, and now had three more children—two daughters, Isabella and Theodora, and another son, Maximilian. Ginny was sometimes playing for the Holyhead Harpies in addition to her work at The Daily Prophet, and had successfully brought them to the Quidditch World Cup twice since joining. Draco, meanwhile, had implemented strict intolerance policies for discrimination of Muggleborns within Hogwarts, and was deeply encouraging of inter-house relationships on the whole.
Arthur and Molly delighted in being grandparents to Bill and Fleur’s three (Victoire, Dominique, and Louis), Percy and Audrey’s daughters (Molly and Lucy), George and Angelina’s son and daughter (Fred and Roxanne), as well as Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Draco, and Harry and Severus’s children. It had been a bitter pill to swallow when Molly realized that Charlie was well and truly married to his work, and would likely never have a partner, or children, at all.
Neville and Luna (who had taken over as Care of Magical Creatures professor after Hagrid had renewed his relationship with Madame Maxime and permanently moved to France) were very happy together as well. The pair of them had two children, Frank Gulliver and Pandora Alice, who would accompany their parents, as well as maternal grandfather, Xenophilius, to Scandinavia every summer. Although they had yet to find the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, the excursions were always entertaining, and they learned so much as a result.
Harry stood, watching six-year-olds Simon and Elfreda, plus four-year-old Minerva Hermione, and two-year-old Jasper Severus, running about the gardens. Severus was due back from a potion ingredient gathering in their forest anytime now, and Harry knew the elves were working on their dinner inside. Melaina, still in her prime at ten years old, purred in his arms; even when Dennis and his husband, Derek Holden, stopped by the estate with their three children—Colin, Cressida, and Claire—she was still wary.
“Papa!” cried Jasper, running on his chubby little legs towards the edge of the forest, squealing as Severus scooped up their youngest, as all their other children gathered around him, clamoring for attention.
Severus looked up; he had managed to pull Minnie into his arms, while Simon and Elfreda clung to his legs as he hobbled, chuckling, towards his husband. “Hello, love,” he greeted Harry, and kissed him, managing to tickle Melaina underneath her chin.
“You all right?” Harry asked his husband, Melaina jumping down, which permitted him to gather Jasper into his arms. “Nothing untoward happen in the forest?” he wanted to know, smiling in an indulgent manner as Jasper slid out of his father’s arms and took off after his older siblings, likely to ask their elves when dinner would be ready.
“I’m afraid I had to wait for the beast to leave,” Severus informed him.
“Beast?” Harry demanded, slightly fearful. “Do we need Luna, or someone from the ministry to come up?”
Severus chuckled at that. “No, I meant our children,” he informed him, before wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist and pulling him closer, kissing him deeply.
Harry shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Clearly,” Severus responded, caressing Harry’s swollen belly, “you have done something already, Mr. Potter-Snape.”
“Ah, yes, another beast for the House of Prince,” Harry said, rolling his eyes playfully as he tilted his head up, clearly hoping for another kiss. “Which begs the question, Mr. Snape—what are you going to do with me?” he joked.
Severus chuckled, leaning down again. “I think I am going to love you, Harry Potter-Snape,” he replied, and leaned down, kissing him again.
THE END