Severus came back to him. His face uncharacteristically open, almost tender, Severus softly said, "Thank you, Potter. This was . . . quite thoughtful."
This kiss was longer than the last, leaving them both breathless.
Reading the same heat in Severus' eyes that was sparking through his own blood, Harry said, "We should probably eat dinner before it gets cold."
"Yes, of course," Severus agreed.
They sat down across from each other. The candlelight was the only light in the room. It turned Severus' face a warm gold.
Severus lifted the lid off the centre platter, releasing even more of the exquisite aroma. "You do know that this is my favourite?"
"That was sort of the idea," Harry said, not understanding why he felt so damn bashful. Severus was obviously pleased. His idea had been a success, and, yet, Harry was still almost nervous.
The silence that fell between them as they began to eat was companionable. They weren't strangers anymore. Yet, every time Harry looked up and found that dark gaze resting on him, a battalion of butterflies seemed to flutter through him.
When they were done with afters, Severus reached into the pocket of his black robe and said, "I realize that this can't really compare with your presents, but I'd like you to have it, nonetheless. In light of today's date."
Abruptly, Severus appeared as nervous as Harry had felt earlier. "I thought you said you'd forgotten what date it was?"
Harry loved the self-conscious expression that Severus couldn't quite hide as he replied, "I've actually had it for some time. The moment just never seemed appropriate to give it to you."
Totally curious as to what Severus would have gotten him, especially since he hadn't expected anything at all, Harry reached out to accept whatever it was Severus was handing to him.
Whatever it was, it was cold, metallic, and heavy as it settled in his palm. Harry drew the gift back and opened his hand. He knew without checking that the object was solid gold. The miniature broom was an exact replica of his newest Firebolt. But it wasn't just a memento. The broom had a small hook on it, to which a large silver key was attached.
"I realize that it isn't as exciting as a necklace that says 'Petal', and that it really is a rather useless gesture, considering that you've been on the wards for more than six weeks now. I just felt you should have it," Severus said, with obvious awkwardness.
Harry swallowed hard. "It's a key to the front door, isn't it?"
Severus nodded.
Overwhelmed, Harry carefully placed the key on the table. Then he all but flung himself at Severus.
Severus caught him. Harry climbed onto his lover's lap. Their mouths met, and a few moments later, they were sliding from Severus' chair down to the green oriental carpet.
Their hands moved feverishly over each other, undoing buttons and zippers. In record time, they were naked on the uncomfortable mound of their clothes.
Severus drew him on top of him. It was a familiar position, but the thrill of it never ceased to amaze Harry. A million shockwaves of delight rocked through him as all that warm skin made nice with his own.
Severus' mouth was an addictive narcotic. It was flavoured with the coffee they'd drunk and Severus' own distinct taste. Harry decided he could drown in it.
Even after all this time, that's what it felt like – drowning. He was over his head, and sinking deeper with every day that passed, but for once he wasn't scared of losing himself in someone. Severus wasn't about to disappoint him. If the man could accept this sentimental gesture, and give him the key to his house, then Harry was pretty certain that Severus could take anything he dished out. But right now, all Harry was interested in was getting as close as possible to that delectable warmth.
Severus' lean, athletic thighs parted, and Harry's groin sank companionably between them, nestling against Severus' impressive shaft. The familiar brown jar of homemade lubricant came floating over to Harry. He picked it out of the air, and then put it down on the floor beside Severus' head without opening it. He liked things just as they were.
Leaning up for a kiss, Harry began to rock his hips. Severus' hands clutched him tighter, and he rose to meet Harry's every thrust.
Losing himself in the kiss and the exquisite sensations thrumming through him, Harry gave himself over to this familiar dance.
All too soon, they were tumbling over that chasm, into the timeless ecstasy of climax. Harry could never really tell who came first; he was usually so far gone. This time he thought it might have been Severus. All he knew was that they were both spraying their bellies and creating a sticky, warm mess between them.
Then the passion crested, and they were lost in that wonderful lassitude that always followed. It felt like they floated there forever, trading lazy kisses.
Vaguely, Harry was aware of a pop sounding behind him. Then a familiar high-pitched voice gave a panicked, "Dobby is thinking he should come back to clean up later." Another pop, and blessed silence followed.
Horrified, Harry stared down at Severus.
Severus' face was terribly contorted. Harry feared that his reserved lover was having a heart attack or some kind of seizure, but after a moment, Severus burst out in laughter. "I dare say that left him shaking in his boots."
And then Harry was laughing as well, and all was right with his world.
*~*~*
The red velvet curtains on stage slowly rolled closed. Harry clapped until his hands hurt, Severus doing the same beside him. The applause continued as the actors came out for a bow. Finally, the actors left the stage, the lights came up in the theatre, and people began to clear out of their seats.
"So, did you enjoy that one?" Harry asked. He knew he'd been taking a chance with As You Like It, since Severus' sense of humour was chancy at times, but whenever Harry had looked over at his lover, Severus had seemed completely absorbed by the play.
"This Shakespeare was very talented for a Muggle, wasn't he?" Severus questioned.
The shapely brunette woman rising from the seat beside Severus cast a strange look at the potions master.
Hiding his smile, Harry answered, "Yeah, a bit. Do you want to stop in at the Leaky Cauldron for drinks on the way home?"
Severus gave an absent nod. "Can we see more of this Shakespeare's work?"
"Of course. I'll see what I can find for next weekend," Harry promised.
When their aisle was finally open enough to allow them to leave, Severus and he rose to their feet. Side by side, they walked down the red carpet in the old theatre's long centre row.
They were just about to step out into the lobby when a familiar, unexpected voice called, "Harry?"
Recognizing Hermione's voice immediately, Harry turned, tensing. It was just as he'd anticipated. Ron was with her.
It was weird to see someone who'd been closer to you than a brother after a ten-year absence. Unlike Neville, Harry noticed the things that had changed in Ron. The Muggle clothes Ron was wearing showed that he was more muscular now, and a lot taller. The one thing that hadn't altered, however, was the hardness in those brown eyes.
"Hello, Hermione," Harry greeted, giving a guarded, "Ron."
"It's good to see you, Harry," Hermione said with a genuine smile, casting a hopeful look her husband's way.
Harry had to admire her optimism. Even after all these years, she still clearly hoped for a reconciliation between Ron and him. The dark look that shadowed Ron's long, freckled face was hardly encouraging.
The really pathetic part was that there was some part of Harry that hoped that Ron would relent, even after all this time and distance. He hated how stupid that hope made him feel.
Hermione's gaze turned to Severus, her eyes going large as saucers as she recognized Harry's companion. "Professor Snape? Hello."
Harry was genuinely amazed that Neville hadn't shared the news of whom Harry was currently dating with her. He hated to admit it, but he always expected the worst when it came to gossip. But then, Neville had always displayed surprising discretion.
"I haven't been a professor for many years now, Mrs. Weasley," Severus gave a guarded reply.
The silence that fell as Hermione gaped at them in open shock was utterly unbearable.
Predictably enough, it was Ron who broke the tense silence. "So, you've taken up with a Death Eater now? It's bad enough you had to break her heart and disgrace poor Ginny with your disgusting – "
"Ronald, that's enough!" Hermione shouted.
Ron's words hit him like a shower of acid. Harry couldn't believe how much they hurt after all this time.
Fortunately, they appeared to be the only four people lingering in the now deserted theatre. That Death Eater comment could have been a problem.
Facing off with Ron, Harry opened his mouth to give the stupid git a piece of his mind, but before he could say a word, Severus' icy voice offered, "I would hardly deem a woman who just delivered her sixth child heartbroken. Clearly, your sister isn't pining away for Potter. You might take a page from her book and try growing up, Weasley."
"Why you filthy – " Ron began.
"Just shut up," Harry hissed before Ron could say anything unforgivable. The last thing they needed was a duel in a Muggle theatre. "You leave those I care about alone. You've no right to judge me. Just . . . piss the fuck off." Catching Hermione's horrified gaze, Harry said, "Sorry, Hermione."
Grabbing hold of Severus' arm, he turned and stormed into the lobby. Blinded by rage, it took him a moment to realize that Severus was tugging at him.
Beyond thought, Harry allowed himself to be led.
Severus guided him into the men's room, which was fortunately empty at the moment. Once the door closed behind them, Severus' dark gaze scoured the room. Then he took hold of Harry and the next thing Harry knew, they were standing in Severus' familiar sitting room.
Harry was horrified to realize he was shaking.
Severus pressed something into his hand. Harry stared down at the golden liquid in the tumbler.
"Drink it," Severus softly ordered.
Harry did so without protest, hoping that the firewhiskey's burn would drown the blaze of fury. After a long time of standing there, seeing nothing, Harry took a deep breath and turned to Severus, who was watching him with open worry less than a foot away. "I, er, I'm sorry about that."
"What have you to be sorry for?" Severus answered.
"That scene was hardly pleasant," Harry said, unable to believe how upset he still was. After ten years, you would have thought he'd have known better.
"And I suppose you find the times wizards spit 'Death Eater' at me enjoyable?" Severus countered.
"That's different," Harry objected.
"Not to me, it isn't," Severus softly answered. "Come, sit down."
Harry allowed himself to be guided over to the sofa. He braced himself, waiting for the questions that he knew had to be burning in Severus – who wouldn't have been curious after that awful row? – but Severus simply sat at his side, shooting him surreptitious glances when he thought Harry wasn't watching.
Too tense for pretence, Harry finally said, "In all the time we've been together, you've never asked me about them."
He'd dreaded those inevitable questions. Everyone wanted to know what happened to the famous threesome. But Severus had never asked, not once. Only now did Harry recognize that, aside from casual inquiries into how his day had gone, Severus never asked him anything personal at all.
"And you've never asked me what I did as a Death Eater," Severus answered in a low voice. "You never speak of them. I assumed . . . something had happened to come between you."
"You could say that," Harry said. Sighing, because it was all too much, he continued, "I, er, realized – "
"Potter," Severus firmly, but gently interrupted him, "you needn't go into this. You do not have to explain yourself to me or justify anything."
To Harry's shock, Severus meant the words.
No one had ever given him this kind of acceptance before, not even Ron and Hermione when things had been good between them. His throat tightened up like someone had cast a curse on it. Gulping around the reaction, Harry softly said, "Maybe I need to tell you. Maybe I need for you, of all people, to know me."
He wondered how many times a day he startled Severus. This was clearly one of those times. He heard Severus swallow, and then Severus shifted position so that he was facing him on the sofa. Severus' left arm settled on the couch back, his long yellow-stained fingers coming to rest on Harry's shoulder in a gesture that might have been casual, but wasn't.
"As you wish," Severus said.
"I, er, was engaged to Ginny for two years. It was . . . comfortable. I'd always wanted to have a family like the Weasleys, and . . . I was finally going to get my wish, only . . . ."
"Only?" Severus gently encouraged. There was something in his eyes that told Harry that he already knew what Harry was about to say, but then, in light of Ron's words earlier this evening, the truth probably wasn't hard to guess.
"Only the sex wasn't happening anymore," Harry confessed. "Hadn't been for . . . well, over a year, really. Ginny and I were like an old married couple, only . . . we weren't married. We were at her family's Christmas dinner when I looked across the table at Bill Weasley and, well, I, er – "
"Had something of an epiphany?" Severus suggested.
"Yeah. It was . . . horrible. I was sitting there with Ginny holding my hand, when I realized that the thing I wanted more than anything was to shag her oldest brother."
"Did you?" Severus asked.
"Did I what?" Harry asked, confused.
"Shag Bill Weasley?"
Harry couldn't believe that Severus was asking him that, and in such a normal tone, like it would be no big deal if he had. "Of course not. I . . . it totally freaked me out. I tried to pretend that nothing was different, but . . . those feelings weren't going away. Finally, I had to tell her."
