"You would?" Harry asked, unable to believe the offer.
Severus gave a stiff nod. "It's my presence that caused the . . . disturbance."
Severus Snape might still be the most difficult man on the planet, but at that moment, Harry had never been prouder of him. He knew Severus no more wanted to have a heart to heart with Ron than he would a Muggle root canal, and yet his lover was offering to take on the unpleasant task – for his sake, he realized. It was humbling, and wonderful. It made his stomach drop out with a warm, squishy feeling that he'd never experienced before.
Harry looked over at Hermione, and saw her smile.
Doing the same, he turned back to Severus. "Thank you, I know you mean that, but it's probably best if I go after him alone."
Harry ran a hand through his disorderly hair, only then realizing that he was still stark naked and Hermione was standing right there.
She seemed to come to the same realization herself. He couldn't tell without his glasses on, of course, but it felt like she was staring at his right ear. "Er, I'll go finish dressing. That is, if you're sure you don't want me to go after Ron?"
"No. I'll do it," Harry said and watched her blurry figure hurry out, closing the door behind her.
Harry sighed.
"Do they always just . . . barge into your bedroom like that?" Severus asked in a scandalized tone.
Harry chuckled, imagining what this must be like to his privacy-loving lover. "We've always lived in each other's pockets, and, well, it's not as though there's ever been any reason for them not to walk into my room. I've never had anyone but you here."
"You haven't?" Severus seemed stunned.
Sensing that he'd pleased Severus, Harry gave a slow, negative shake of his head. "No, not ever. Hermione always knocks if the door's closed. Ron and I have shared rooms since we were eleven, so he doesn't pay any attention to such niceties."
"Pity, it would have spared us all a rude awakening." Severus' gaze dropped to the duvet covering his lap. "I really should have left hours ago."
"Don't be ridiculous. I love having you here. Next time we'll just have to remember to lock the door. Well, I better go track him down," Harry started to drag himself out of the bed, and then stopped to lean in for another kiss. Pulling back a breathless few minutes later, he whispered, "By the way, thank you for last night. It . . . you were incredible." He was rewarded with a faint blush in those sallow cheeks. Encouraged, he asked, "Can I see you again tonight?"
Although Severus hadn't said 'no' yet, he always asked and never assumed anything as a given between them. He knew how intense last night had been, how much power he'd loosed on the other man. Many wizards would have been scared off by it.
But not his Severus.
Severus boldly held his gaze and gave a slow nod. "If you wish."
"I wish – very much," Harry answered.
"Only . . . perhaps we should retreat to the dungeons tonight?" Severus suggested.
There was a slightly hysterical edge to Harry's ensuing laughter. "You've got a deal. I've really got to go now."
A quick cleansing charm, another wordless spell, and Harry was dressed in blue jeans, grey jumper, his trainers, and winter cloak. He summoned his glasses from wherever they'd spent the night and put them on his nose. A quick smile for the naked man watching him from his bed, and he was hurrying out his bedroom door.
He wasn't certain where he should even look at first. Outside seemed the best bet, for Ron was unlikely to go anywhere a student might see him when that upset.
When Harry stepped out of Hogwarts' main doors, the pre-dawn day was grey and bitter cold. The wind roared down out of the north, making him pull his hood up. The dead grass underfoot was brittle and crisp with frost.
Harry paused in front of the castle, surveying his options. Towards the Forbidden Forest? Towards Hogsmeade? The Lake? Or maybe Ron had rejected all three and simply headed in to work early. He hoped not, because they really needed to talk.
Knowing Ron's fear of spiders, he decided it was unlikely Ron would have approached the Forbidden Forest, where Aragog's children still held sway. It was barely six in the morning, so it was unlikely the Three Broomsticks or any of the other Hogsmeade shops would be open this early. Which left the lake or work.
Harry turned his steps into the wind and headed down the stairs to the water. If it were he who'd come to the lake for solace, he would have been over on the far side, near the menhir where he and Remus used to stop for chats when Lupin had taught here in his third year. But Ron preferred the rocky beach.
Sure enough, the tall figure stood there, a long black line against grey water and sky. Ron had obviously transfigured his nightshirt into winter robes, for he was draped in billowing black folds that made him look like Severus with them flapping around him. His head was bare. The wind was ripping at his shaggy red hair and turning his cheeks nearly as bright a colour.
Harry watched the rigid silhouette for a moment, unsure what approach he should take. Finally he just walked down the slope to the beach and stopped a few feet from Ron on the ice glazed white, grey, and brown stones on the shore.
There was a thick crust of ice forming on the water near the shore. The emotional cold shoulder Ron was giving him was making Harry feel about the same as the water.
"It would really help if you learned to knock," Harry said by way of greeting.
Ron didn't even look at him. His jaw was locked like he was about to face Voldemort alone, his brow crinkled in a frown. With falling spirits, Harry noticed that Ron's hands were balled in fists at his side, as if to keep from striking someone.
Harry sighed and stared out at the white-capped, wind-tortured water for a while. It was barely distinguishable from the sky in the predawn twilight. When the silence became too much, he voiced his deepest worry. "Are you going to stop talking to me again? Cut me off cold like you did when we were fourteen?"
"You're fucking Snape," the way Ron said it made the concept sound morally repugnant. It was the same tone Ron would have used if he'd accused someone of molesting a first year.
"Severus is my lover, Ron," Harry softly corrected, needing Ron to understand something he didn't fully understand himself. All he knew was that Severus wasn't simply someone he fucked.
"He's no more capable of being a lover than a mountain troll is," Ron snapped, swinging around to glare at him. "The man's a complete horror. You know that better than anyone, for Merlin's sake. You were his principal victim for seven years."
"That was almost nine years ago," Harry protested.
"He hasn't changed. He never changes, except to get nastier."
"Maybe I've changed, then," Harry said.
"How could you take up with something like him? How can you even touch him? He's disgusting!"
"Ron -"
"He's old enough to be your father. His teeth, hands, and even his fucking face are yellow! He's an ugly -"
Before Ron could go any further, Harry interrupted in a voice like steel, "Ron, I know what the man looks like. I'm sleeping with him. Stop it, please."
Ron snapped his mouth shut and stood there glaring out over the water with his jaw twitching.
Harry took a deep breath of the cold, lake-scented air, trying to cleanse his own anger at Ron's thoughtless insults. Finally, he said, "I don't care that he's not . . . that he doesn't look like a movie star. I don't, either."
"You're a good looking bloke, Harry. You could get anyone you wanted."
"Yeah, for a night," Harry snapped. "Do you know how many times I've gone to bed with a drop-dead, gorgeous wizard, only to wake up with someone I'd never seen before when their glamour wore off?"
"At least they gave a damn about how they looked," Ron shot back.
"I happen to like the way Severus looks. He's . . . striking," Harry tried to choose an adjective that would describe the Snape Ron knew, not the one who melted in his arms every night.
"He's filthy. He never bathes."
Harry sighed. "He's never dirty. He uses a cleansing charm several times a day."
"His hair is dripping with oil," Ron said, seeming intent on cataloguing Severus' every fault.
"He forgets to wash it. It's not a big deal, Ron."
"It's disgusting," Ron countered.
"It's just part of him, the way your red hair is part of you. The things you're saying, it's all about looks. Can't you see that you're doing the same thing to Severus that that stuck up Ravenclaw chit did to you when you asked her out in sixth year and she said she could never date you because you had red hair and freckles?" Harry gently reminded him.
Ron's already wind-burned face went even redder. "It's not just his looks. He's the nastiest bastard ever born. You know that, Harry!"
"He's . . . different with me," Harry said.
Ron ignored his protest. "Why . . . him?"
"Why Hermione for you? Can anybody explain why they're drawn to the person they . . . ." the words stopped as he recognized where they were going. Abruptly, he remembered telling Severus he loved him last night.
"Oh, my god," Ron said. "You're . . . you're in love with the filthy bastard!"
Ron made it sound like an obscenity or a betrayal.
Tired of defending something he never should have had to, Harry's temper snapped and he rounded on Ron. "Guilty as charged. Yes, I love him. All right. Is that what you wanted to hear? Aren't I allowed a little happiness, too? Or do I have to be alone my whole life?"
"No, of course, you shouldn't be alone. But why him, Harry?" Ron practically whined.
Harry tried to explain in terms Ron might understand, "We're good together. He's actually quite funny when you get to know him, and . . . .he's not afraid of me. Severus doesn't make me feel like a freak every time I forget to use my wand to work a little magic. I don't have to explain what the war did to me, because he was right there beside me the whole time, and he's got just as many scars from it as I do. He might be a miserable prick to the rest of the world, but he's kind and gentle to me when it counts. And he's making more of an effort to be civil to the people that matter to me than you are; so don't talk to me about nasty."
Ron's eyes went wide as saucers. "You really are in love. . . with Severus Snape."
Feeling nothing but tired now that he'd lost the initial burst of anger, Harry gave a silent nod and asked, "Are you going to punish me for it?"
"What?" Ron blinked, whether from the wind or the surprise, Harry didn't know.
"Am I going to lose my best friend because he doesn't approve of the man I'm . . . sleeping with?" His heart dropped out of his chest as Ron looked away.
"I'm sorry," Ron said softly.
"Right. I'll see you around." Harry's wooden words were worthy of Severus as he turned back to the castle.
A goose-pimpled, cold-reddened hand locked on his shoulder. "Harry, wait! I didn't mean it that way. I was apologizing for . . . being such a prat."
Harry looked up into tired blue eyes.
Ron gave him a weak smile as he said, "I'm not going to pretend that I understand . . . but . . . I'm on your side. Okay? If Snape . . . really makes you happy, I'll try to . . .accept it, accept him."
The relief almost made Harry dizzy. One minute he was staring up at Ron with his teeth chattering from the cold, the next he was pressed tight to that warm, muscular chest, with Ron's familiar comforting scent all around him. They stood there hugging on the shore for what felt like forever. Finally, Ron gave him a squeeze and said, "I'm going to have to go in and get dressed for work."
"Right," Harry said, stepping back.
But Ron's arm came over his shoulder and he stepped close to Harry as they turned towards the castle. "So, are you going to tell me how this thing with Snape started or are you going to let me imagine that he slipped you a love potion or worse?"
"Would you believe that it all began with a plague of locusts?" Harry asked with a grin.
"Somehow that seems strangely appropriate for a love story involving Snape," Ron joked. He gave Harry's shoulder another squeeze and said, "Go on. I'm listening."
Allowing himself to believe that things might actually work out, Harry relaxed against Ron and gave his friend the highly abridged version of his unintentional courtship of Severus Snape as they walked back to the castle.
To his shock, another tall, black-draped figure was waiting for him on Hogwarts entrance stairs.
Ron's arm tensed around him, but didn't withdraw as they approached Snape.
"It went all right, then, I take it?" Severus asked him, his dark gaze taking in Ron's arm across his shoulders.
Harry could almost feel Ron gawking up at Severus. Snape still looked exactly like the nasty Potions master of their childhood. Nothing of what Severus was feeling was revealed in the hard lines of his face, and his eyes looked cold as black ice.
"It went fine," Harry grinned up at Severus as they climbed the steps to where his lover was waiting.
Ron's arm slid off his shoulder. For a tense moment, Ron and Severus stood there squared off, as if preparing to duel. Then Ron stiffly said, "I should have knocked this morning. I'm sorry for the intrusion."
Severus seemed to consider the words, as though searching for hidden meaning or mockery. Apparently finding none, he inclined his head and said, "There was no harm done."
Ron nodded.
The silence stretched awkwardly as the two taller men stared at each other, and then Ron blurted out, "This is weird."
"Believe me, Mr. Weasley, you don't know the half of it," Severus said in such a dry tone that both Ron and Harry were laughing before his lover finished speaking.
