"If you don't start breathing, you're going to pass out," Harry said, watching him with an indecipherable expression.
Realizing that he was, in fact, holding his breath, Severus released it. Once he'd taken in a few gulps of cool air, he felt less jittery, but no less frightened. He forced himself to meet Harry's eyes. For one of the first times ever, he couldn't decipher what Harry was feeling.
That observation felt like it went on for centuries.
Finally, Harry reached out with his right hand to touch Severus' shoulder. "I wish there were something I could do to make all of that easier for you to bear."
"W-what?" Severus managed to rasp out.
"You never had a chance, did you?" Harry's eyes looked almost haunted.
"What do you mean?" Severus's mind didn't seem able to comprehend what Harry was saying.
"Pain is all you've known, your whole life," Harry said.
"That doesn't excuse -"
"Severus, you were barely twenty when those Death Eater events occurred," Harry said in a firm voice.
"Nevertheless -"
"That night at the Squib's house, if you'd challenged Malfoy and the others, could you have taken them out?" Harry demanded.
Severus gave a negative shake of his head, embarrassed. He might have known more spells than a fourth year when he started school. His talents had always been precocious. But however gifted he'd been, he'd never had the darkness inside him, that cruel streak that had been the earmark of Lucius and his cronies.
"So, you would have ended up dead had you made a stand?"
"That isn't the point. For months, I'd heard my companions bragging. What happened shouldn't have come as a shock -"
"Maybe it shouldn't have, but it did. You were young, scared, and didn't think there was a way out of the situation you'd gotten yourself into. Wanting to live isn't a crime."
"But being party to torture and murder is. I was there. I made no move to stop them -"
"Because you couldn't. The same as when Voldermort killed Cedric before my eyes, I couldn't kill the bastard and his followers, much as I wanted to, much as I will always regret never being able to. All I could do was try to stay alive long enough to escape. Severus, you were up against the strongest, vilest dark wizard the world had ever known. You weren't even twenty, and half of the people you would have to stand against were the only friends you'd ever known."
"Nevertheless, I should have -"
Harry cut his ragged protest off with, "Should have what? Forfeited your life for a principle? That's what you would have been doing if you'd made a move against them in that Squib's house. What good would throwing your life away like that have done anyone? Severus, you made the only decision you could."
"And those people died," Severus reminded him.
"Not by your hand or your orders," Harry said in a steely tone Severus didn't think he'd ever heard before. "Voldemort is responsible for their deaths, not you. As soon as you were able to, you did the right thing. You've spent over two decades trying to make up for a mistake you made before you were even twenty years old. It's time you forgave yourself."
"I . . . ." Severus' words faltered. His entire body was shaking. He felt a familiar burning at his eyes.
Strong hands gripped his shoulders and before Severus knew what was happening, Harry drew him into his arms. He tentatively rested his face against Harry's tee-shirt covered shoulder, still expecting disaster to strike. But the only thing that happened was Harry's hand settled on his back and began to rub.
"You did the best you could in a horrible situation. And you did everything in your power afterwards to set things right. I know how much you risked every time you followed Dumbledore's request and returned to Voldemort to spy on him," Harry said, still rubbing his back, still hugging him. "You are the bravest man I've ever met and I'm honoured to call you my lover."
That did it. Severus squeezed his eyes tightly shut, attempting to keep in those treacherous tears, but, as with Penbroke's sessions, there was no holding them back. How long he stayed there with his face buried in the crook of Harry's shoulder as emotion stormed through him, Severus didn't know. The shoulder of Harry's light blue tee-shirt had an eight inch wet spot on it when Severus finally lifted his face what felt like hours later.
It took every bit of strength he possessed to meet Harry's eyes.
Severus had expected his confession to have made some change in Harry's gaze. He didn't understand how someone as honourable and good as Harry would want to continue to associate with him after seeing his sordid past, but, if anything, those green eyes seemed even warmer as they regarded him.
"You . . . ." Words were beyond him.
Harry took mercy on him and gently encouraged, "I, what?"
"You're not leaving," Severus said, hearing the disbelief in his own voice.
Harry's voice sounded a little rough as he replied, "Never. I'm afraid you're stuck with me for good."
Those words overwhelmed Severus' brain and heart. Both organs melted, or maybe they fused. All Severus knew was that for the first time ever, his worst fears weren't manifesting. His beautiful Harry was still sitting beside him, still . . . loving him, even after seeing the kind of life he'd lived, the kind of man he'd been.
It was more than Severus could process. But not more than he could handle. He wasn't even aware of moving. The next thing he knew, he was covering Harry's mouth with his and doing his best to drown in that luscious kiss.
Harry's hands gripped his shoulders, guiding him down, and he found himself snuggled on top of Harry.
This had become a familiar position in the last four nights. Normally, Harry's power was pulsing around him, inciting Severus to new heights. As there was no magic flowing around him tonight, Severus half-expected that awful freeze up to happen again, only . . . only Harry knew what he was and still wanted to kiss him. That was a miracle beyond his wildest dreams, and, as with all miracles, there was no explaining or questioning it.
The dreaded freeze didn't happen. Severus kept kissing, and, before he knew it, their clothes vanished. Naked skin touched naked skin as their needy erections settled carefully together.
His hips began to rock. The kiss deepened even further as they did everything in their power to meld into one being. Harry felt so perfect.
There seemed to be some kind of energy pulsing around them. At first, Severus thought it was Harry's power. Only slowly did he come to realize that the energy was coming as much from him as from his partner. It wasn't magic, per se; although it had been called that in its time. It took Severus' understandably abstracted mind a while to classify what he was experiencing. He'd had glimpses of it since October, rare flashes that had rocked his entire world. But only now could he put a name to the energy, and claim it as his own.
What he was feeling, this was love.
His ever doubtful mind hadn't been able to believe in love until it was proven, but if Harry's wanting him after everything he'd seen wasn't love, than Severus didn't know what love was.
No, that was incorrect. He did know what love was. Love was Harry Potter.
His beleaguered being fixed on that one certainty as the delight burning through him crested to immolating proportions, and he exploded.
Their mouths broke apart to suck in much needed air and release the sounds the pleasure destroying them demanded they vent. Their groans shook them both, the sounds seeming to shatter the very reality around them as they climaxed almost simultaneously and Severus was lost in a warm, golden nowhere land of suspended pleasure.
He seemed to float there for an eternity before the scattered portions of his wits sluggishly recollected.
The first awareness Severus experienced was that of Harry depositing soft, loving kisses all over his face. His next awareness was of the warm, sticky mess between their tight pressed bellies. The sublime crashing with the profane, Severus found himself inexplicably laughing.
"Hey, what's so funny?" Harry asked in a sleepy, sexy voice.
"I . . . ." His laughter faded under that loving gaze. Gulping, Severus decided to finish what tonight's confession had started. "I love you."
All levity vanished from Harry's expression. Severus could tell that he'd deeply surprised the man.
After a moment, Harry rallied with, "Works out sort of neat, that does, because, I'm crazy in love with you myself."
For the first time ever, when Harry said those words, Severus didn't find himself consumed with doubt and guilt. Harry had seen everything he was, and was still here . . . would always be here, Severus realized as he recalled Harry's earlier comment about never leaving.
When he thought he had the emotions resulting from his acceptance of Harry's continued presence in check, Severus softly commented, "You didn't have to use your magic for us to . . . make love tonight."
"I'd noticed," Harry said, reaching up to push Severus' dangling hair clear of his face. The fingers remained in his hair, stroking its none-too-clean length. "Told you that you weren't broken."
"You've become amazingly wise over the years," Severus said, the stress of the last hour beginning to catch up as his limbs turned heavy with exhaustion.
"Not wise, just lucky in love," Harry answered in an equally tired tone.
"I think exhaustion is making us both a little . . . ."
"Sappy?" Harry supplied with a smile. "I think we've earned a little sap. Don't worry, it'll wear off by morning." Severus wondered if Harry were still monitoring his thoughts, for, no sooner had the concern sparked through his mind, than Harry was explaining, "Only the sap will wear off by morning, not the love. That's yours for good."
"Thank you," Severus gruffly acknowledged, "for everything."
"Hey, I'm the winner here. There's nothing to thank me for," Harry countered. As if he, too, sensed how hopelessly sentimental the scene might become if allowed to progress unchecked, Harry brightly suggested, "Why don't we move into the bedroom and see if we can mess up the bed as badly as we have the couch?"
"You are a hopeless Gryffindor optimist if you think either of us is up to anything more tonight."
Harry met his eye and challenged, "I know my Slytherin sex god. I'll beat you to the bedroom."
With that, Harry somehow wriggled out from beneath him and left Severus perched precariously between the couch and nearby coffee table. Laughing so hard that he nearly collapsed to the floor, Severus found his feet and gave chase.
As he sank down into his huge bed with a madly giggling Harry, Severus wondered if this would be what the rest of his life would be like, love and laughter with Harry Potter. He was realist enough to know that his problems weren't cured by a long shot, but, right now, with Harry they felt very far away. And, who knew? Maybe his hopeless, Gryffindor optimist was right about everything, and love would cure all wounds? It certainly felt that way as Severus settled down into another kiss.
Finis
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