Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Severus didn't get to see Harry for the rest of the week and as happy as he was that his apothecary was going well, he almost wished back those long holidays between semesters that would have enabled him to wait Harry out. But since he spent the better part of the day pandering to his customers, he didn't even see a shadow of his husband. It was as if Harry had already initiated their separation.

But on Sunday, with the day spreading out before him like the banquet at the end of the year feast of Hogwarts, he had every intention of confronting Harry and clarifying a few things between them. He was prepared to wait all day, even by sitting in the corridor in front of Harry's closed office door, but as it turned out, that wasn't even necessary.

"Good morning," he said in surprise, when he found Harry sitting at the breakfast table, half hidden behind the Daily Prophet.

"Good morning, Severus," Harry said, polite and distant. "Would you like a part of the paper?"

"No, thank you." Severus passed by Harry's chair slowly, hoping that Harry would do more than send him an uninterested glance, but was disappointed when Harry turned back to his reading. "Actually... there is something I need to get from my labs. Do you think you could wait for my return?"

"Of course," Harry replied, with the tonal equivalent of a shrug. "I hope you don't mind that I already started with breakfast. I wasn't sure when you'd be up."

"Not at all. You must have been hungry after getting up in the middle of the night," Severus answered, and almost bit his tongue in frustration because he had not intended to drag Harry's nightmares into this nor to read insults into Harry's words.

Harry just looked at him, and if Severus hadn't noticed before that something was wrong, that look would have told him everything. There was no light in Harry's eyes, not even a glimmer. Just cool professionalism. It was high time he set the record straight.

When he came back from his lab, Harry had shifted his attention from the newspaper to his mail, though he put down the letter he had been reading to look up at Severus.

The Potions Master stepped close to Harry, maintaining eye contact as he carefully placed a pile of parchment on the table. "I came to the conclusion, foregone as it might have been, that I won't be needing these."

Harry slowly, oh-so-slowly reached out to pull the papers closer, as if afraid that Severus would snatch them away at the last moment. "You have no use for them?" Harry asked softly, when he saw the still blank signature line on their divorce agreement.

"Now or ever," Severus affirmed, trying not to panic at how much like a vow his words had sounded; the Quaffle was in Harry's court now, and whatever happened it would not be the first or last disappointment in his life. Nor would it be the worst. At least, that it was he told himself.

"I'm glad to hear that." Harry was suddenly grinning, ear to ear and as bright as the sun, making Severus momentarily unstable on his feet.

The younger man placed his hand over the agreement, fingers spread out so that his little finger and his thumb just touched the edge of parchment, and before Severus could subtly question him if he agreed with Severus' decisions, blue flames burst from his palm, searing forth between his fingers and incinerating the thick stack of parchment, leaving nothing but the quickly dissipating scent of burning paper.

Then, before he could even breathe out in relief, Harry's lips were on his, his lithe body pressed intimately against his and his fingers tangled in his hair. Severus had a moment of panic because he couldn't quite remember when he had last washed his hair and he didn't want to scare Harry off with bad personal hygiene so early into their reinitiated marriage, but then Harry's tongue was in his mouth, tipping against his own and he couldn't but respond to the kiss.

Harry's mouth tasted like strawberry jam and coffee and as always Harry ceded the lead as soon as Severus showed interest in dominating the kiss. He pulled the young man closer, pulled Harry's athletic smoothness against his own hard-edged sharpness, and cradled Harry's head with one hand. They surged against each other like waves in the ocean, pressing and grinding and smashing because Harry seemed to share Severus' feeling off not being able to get enough of the other, of wanting to hold on and reconnect and never let go again. Preferably without clothes.

There was a breathless, shaky moment, where – had it been extended for just a second longer – one or maybe both of them might have regained a modicum of composure, when Harry toed off his shoes and socks and reached to unbutton his jeans. Severus slapped his hands away, popped the button and moved down the zipper. Harry moaned, surged forward again and attacked Severus' throat with nipping kisses, while Severus slipped one hand into Harry's jeans, immediately meeting hot, velvety skin. Harry's feverish pants against his neck almost distracted him from the slender fingers that stroked over the seam of his robes, magic taking care of the many buttons, and spread the black material, pushing it over his shoulders. It was Severus' turn to groan and his eyes fluttered shut against his will.

He had the vague idea that maybe they should talk, that Harry had revealed himself to be no less insecure than Severus and that he needed reassurance. But the thought was fleeting and not nearly as stimulating as Harry's caresses, gentle and teasing and intimate. He startled slightly when Harry pushed him away until he felt the edge of the chair against the back of his knees and gladly accepted the support. He opened his eyes when Harry stepped back, but had no time to protest or question before Harry was back again, perched over his lap, not a stitch of clothing left on him and his pupils blown wide as if he had used belladonna eye drops. He was absolutely breathtaking.

He put his hands on Harry's hips, not trusting himself with anything else, and held him steady as his lips sought out Harry's. The younger man melted into him, long arms winding around his neck and their heaving chest pressed together. And suddenly the rest of Severus' clothes were gone too, Harry's warm skin against his own, tan and golden were his own was pale and sallow. But he didn't waste any more thought on that, for once looking past his own inadequacies and focusing on this all but perfect young man in his arms.

Harry's hair tickled his nose and he felt soft lips exhaling his name against his ear. And then Harry repositioned himself, his fiery green eyes locking onto his as the younger man impaled himself on Severus' hard length, sinking down slowly but without hesitation and enveloping his erection in tight heat. Severus couldn't suppress a groan or the flicker of concern that Harry might have hurt himself in his eagerness. But Harry's movements remained smooth and confident, his passage tight but not dry and with the last ounce of conscious thought, Severus concluded that Harry must have used magic to prepare himself before he gave up on thinking and himself over to bliss.

Harry was a solid weight against him, not heavy but substantial like he hadn't been in the last few days. He was real and there and Severus', now more than just on paper. Harry moved up and down steadily, bracing his legs on the outside of Severus' thighs before sinking back down and taking Severus into himself with a possessive, victorious tilt of his hips that pushed his bobbing erection against Severus' stomach, painting pearly trails of pre-come over his skin like a signature. It was almost perfect. But Severus wanted to do more than sit placidly, wanted to claim Harry and make him his again, or maybe for the first time, and his current position didn't lend itself to more than rolling his hips, kisses and maybe an awkward handjob. It wasn't enough.

So he allowed his hands to slip from Harry's hip, lower, outlining the muscles in his thighs and when Harry settled into his touch, he dug his fingers into Harry's perfectly shaped butt and hefted him up. Harry laughed delightedly, making to say something, but Severus closed his mouth with a kiss, freeing one hand and using it to swipe the dishes from the table so he could set Harry down. No sound of breaking china followed, but even if the dishes hadn't magically ended up in the kitchen instead of on the floor, neither of them would have cared as Severus pushed back into his green-eyed lover, claiming him from the inside out. Harry made a delightful little whimper, slinging his long legs around Severus' waist and drawing him impossibly closer.

Severus felt them meld together, becoming one with every leisurely thrust, every instinctive tightening of Harry's legs around his waist, every heavy breath that fell between them. He didn't want it to end. But they were both skidding towards the edge and Harry's hands were clutching so tightly to the sides of the table that the Potions Master feared for the physical intergrity of his fingers. So he sped up his thrusts, maintaining a steady rhythm with the last shreds of his self-control, and ran his hand over Harry's sweaty flat stomach, down to the dark curly pubic hair and wrapped his fingers around his proud erection.

With a squeeze he commanded, "Come for me." And Harry arched his back, his toes curling, and covered both their stomachs in his come as he shouted out his release, tightening his muscles around Severus' erection. Severus threw his head back, his eyes closing or his vision going black as he left his own signature inside of Harry, and his one-handed grip on the other man's hip was so tight that he was sure it would leave bruises. And he couldn't feel the slightest remorse for leaving another mark on Harry.

When he finally broke their connection, Harry's legs slipped from around his waist, dangling over the edge of the table in a position that on anyone else would have looked awkward. On Harry it looked carelessly sexy, not in the least self-conscious and when Severus sank back into the chair, he felt the schism between them again.

"Don't think," Harry admonished him, sitting up and slipping sideways into Severus' lap with more energy and grace than Severus could have mustered in his post-coital lethargy. "You've done enough of that the last few weeks, round in circles I suspect, and you could have saved both of us a lot of headaches if you hadn't. So please, don't think. Not now, yeah?"

"I'll wait until you give me permission again to exercise my mind, shall I?" Severus asked, but couldn't suppress a smirk when Harry kissed the corner of his mouth and then nuzzled his neck.

"Perfect," Harry whispered, smoothly transitioning from 'sexy' to 'affectionate' and then right back to 'sexy'. "I hope you don't mind that I intend to use you for sex shamelessly beforehand."

"As long as we can have at least some of that sex in the bedroom, I see no reason to object," Severus agreed magnanimously and it was Harry's turn to smirk.

"Only some of it? My, my, Severus, it seems you have an adventurous side after all..."

ö_ö_ö

Harry was sitting with his back against the headboard of their bed, reading some kind of report or message when Severus came to again, pleasantly sore in all the right places and their left hands intertwined.

"Hey," Harry greeted him with a smile, putting away his papers and scooting lower until they were face to face.

"Hey," Severus echoed, not quite sure what else he could say. "Was I asleep long?"

Harry lifted his shoulders. "You needed the rest."

They fell silent again and Severus smoothed his thumb over the back of Harry's hand while he studied the younger man's face. He startled when Harry drew back, sitting up again.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked this before, but I was just too happy that you didn't want a divorce," he said, pleading for understanding with his eyes. "I shouldn't have assumed... I should have asked if you wanted to renegotiate the terms of our marriage. Do you?"

Severus was glad Harry spoke so fast that he had no time to start doubting himself and could almost enjoy Harry's unease. "I think we should, yes." Harry's eyes widened and Severus bit back a smirk. "I think we should have sex more than once a week."

Harry cocked his head before breaking out into a smile. "When have we ever had sex once a week?"

"My point, exactly." Severus smirked, pulling Harry into him and kissing him soundly. "It's time we adapted our rules to our lifestyle."

"You, Severus Snape, are a very clever man." Harry said, relaxing into his side. "How about if we have sex as often as we want to? And we could put the new rule into action right now."

"In a moment," Severus answered, tracing the ridge of Harry's spine with his fingers. "Is there something you want to renegotiate, since you brought it up?"

"That's not why I brought it up," Harry insisted, starting to pepper Severus' chest with kisses.

"But there is something?" Severus questioned, wondering if he really wanted to push this. "Tell me."

Severus expected Harry to ask for what he was about to offer him, which might have made offering easier, but instead he offered something that Severus hadn't really considered asking. He also expected that he would have needed to do a bit more convincing before Harry answered. "I would like to ward your apothecary."

"I renewed those wards after the whole kidnapping fiasco," Severus pointed out.

"I know." Harry nodded against his chest. "And I'm not saying that your wards aren't good because they are among the best and strongest I've ever seen. But mine are better."

Severus knew that of course, had always known that, and he didn't see the point in arguing anymore. "All right."

"Yeah?" Harry asked in surprise, then bestowed another smiling kiss on Severus. "I think I like renegotiating with you."

"I'm not sure we can justly call this renegotiation," Severus remarked, lightly resting his hand in the small of Harry's back. "It might just be we've come to a new understanding."

"I like that as well," Harry said easily, shimmying against Severus with a devilish smile. "I especially like our first new understanding."

Severus rolled his eyes and administered a light slap to Harry's firm behind. "I should not have given you ideas."

"Why not?" Harry questioned, undulating against him and caressing suggestively over his chest and around his erection. "I have it on good authority that you like kissing me, touching me, being inside me, buried so deep that I can feel your magic wrap around mine and your pulsing in time with my heartbeat. And then when you come it's like summer rain or shooting stars, all over my body and tingling through my veins and my magic pulls you even closer until your body leaves an imprint on my soul that I can feel for days afterwards."

It was a curious mixture between dirty talk and a confession, but Severus' erection filled out nonetheless and he held Harry a little closer. "I do indeed. But if you were to ask me again..." He shifted, allowing his legs to fall apart just slightly.

"Severus." Harry pressed a long kiss over his heart and gently touched the inside of his thigh. "Do you want me to ask?"

"You hinted that I might have been operating under a false assumption," Severus said, thinking back to their conversation in Harry's study. "It's a time of new understandings, as you said."

"That's very thoughtful of you, but I wasn't talking about us. I'm perfectly happy with the way things are. I'd love to experience that with you, but only if you want to as well." Harry rubbed tiny circles into the sensitive skin between his legs.

Severus swallowed, kissing Harry's forehead to hide his emotions. "I want you to ask me. Now."

Harry grinned, swinging one leg to rest between Severus', kissing him long and sensually, before he asked. "May I?"

"Yes," Severus answered, surprised at how easily the word came over his lips. "Yes."

They kissed again, and Severus allowed his hands to wander slowly and gently over Harry's slender body, memorising the soft skin and the strong muscles underneath. And the magic that swirled up to greet him, a soothing flow of energy along his body.

"It wasn't like this before," he commented, slightly breathless after their kiss. "You never let me feel this."

"You can handle it," Harry said confidently, gently biting along his jaw and kissing his Adam's apple. "But tell me if it gets too much."

"That – ah – That's not what I meant," Severus got out, burying his hands in Harry's sides. "Why did you rein it in before?"

"I didn't think you'd want me to know you like this," Harry murmured, arching his back and bringing their stomachs into contact.

Severus' answer got lost on the way to his mouth and he abandoned this line of thought in favour of Harry's lips and the hands that went to his shoulders to make him turn around. "I want to see you."

"You will. But let's work up to that, okay?" Harry suggested, lifting up so that Severus could roll onto his stomach and then straddling him. "I want you to relax."

Severus sank back into the mattress, folding his arms around his head and resting his cheek on his forearms. "There's some oil in the bedside drawer."

"I knew there were advantages to marrying a Potions Master," Harry said, and his voice was warm and teasing just as his touch when he started to kneed the tension out of Severus' back and shoulders. "Pressure okay?"

"You've done this before," Severus noted, but without accusation and let himself sink into the touch. "I should have thought of this when you had trouble sleeping."

"I like your method better." Severus could hear the smirk in Harry's voice and feel it on his neck when Harry leaned down to kiss him.

"I'll have to give you a massage soon, maybe you'll change your mind."

Harry laughed. "I look forward to that. But first it's your turn. Shh, that wasn't a threat."

Severus supposed he must have tensed up, or maybe his magic had recoiled and Harry noticed before he was even aware of it. But he didn't want Harry to stop, not when he was more caressing than massaging now, gentle and teasing and probably less than efficient.

"It's been a while," he offered by way of an explanation and suppressed the little voice that wanted to add a "not long enough."

Harry kissed him again, pressed his dry lips to the nape of his neck and ran his fingers through his hair. Severus expected him to say something about how he would stop if Severus needed him to, about how he wouldn't hurt him, about how they didn't have to do this, but he didn't and Severus supposed it was understood. His own certainty surprised him, but there was no doubt in his mind that Harry would never use his superior magical strength against him. He was too chivalrous for that, and the thought did not carry its previous sarcastic edge.

He rolled around, Harry easily adjusting to their new position and deliberately reached for the small vial of oil that Harry had dropped on the bedspread.

"Give me your hand," he said and Harry obeyed immediately.

It was as always gratifying how easily Harry followed his lead and it gave him a small boost of confidence, enough to lead Harry's right hand between his legs and release it with a last careful squeeze to his wrist. Harry's movements remained deliberately slow, waiting for Severus to relax and studying his reactions with an avid eye, doing nothing to suggest that he was getting impatient. And when Harry slid into him, one fraction of an inch at a time, it didn't hurt, wasn't even uncomfortable, just different, new, not at all like he half-remembered despite all his efforts of forgetting and suppressing. Harry punctuated every thrust, more like roll of his hips, with a lingering kiss, a caress over sweaty skin or a whisper of Severus' name.

"Stop teasing," Severus growled, countering Harry's next inward stroke with an upward push of his hips and tightening his inner muscles.

A light tinkling laugh was his answer, but Harry sped up marginally and even reached out to take a delicate grasp of his erection, beginning to massage it in time with their rhythm. "Would you like to come for me?" Harry's voice was slightly breathless, and still teasing.

Severus didn't mind. In fact, he didn't mind much of anything anymore because he felt a rush of pleasure through his body that wasn't entirely his own, like a cresting wave that crashed down over him and first drowned then let him float through his orgasm. He vaguely noticed when Harry's hips stuttered, slender fingers dug into his thighs and Harry's warm release coated his insides, but the storm of magic all around them took precedence. It was full of colours and white noise, warmth and power and emotion, so uniquely Harry that he couldn't quite identify them.

He wondered what emotions Harry was receiving from him, what revelations he could draw from their connection and looped an arm around the younger man to keep him close even as Harry settled beside him.

"I wasn't going to break," Severus clarified, meeting Harry's eyes.

"Of course not," Harry replied, swirling his fingers through the drying come on Severus' stomach. "I just thought you deserved someone to be careful with you for once."

"Thank you." Severus led Harry's hand to his mouth, kissing his fingertips and tasting his own come.

"Right back at you." Harry grinned, slinging one leg and one arm over Severus' torso.

"I wouldn't mind doing this again, sometime," Severus offered, cradling Harry's head in his hand and running his fingers through thick black strands. "Though, my general preferences haven't changed."

"I'm glad to hear that," Harry murmured. "Do you have time for a nap?"

"Close your eyes, I'll be here," Severus answered, using a bit of wandless magic to clean them up before pulling the blankets around them. Harry snuggled closer, rested his cheek over Severus' heart and closed his eyes.

ö_ö_ö

"There was something I wanted to give you, but it didn't seem appropriate earlier." Severus walked over to his young husband, who had settled in the library to attend to his mail, and held out an old photograph. "You should have this."

Harry took the photograph, holding it reverently in his hand as he studied the two people in it. "When was this taken?"

"At graduation," Severus said softly, focusing on Lily's radiant smile instead of the confirmation of his lack of photogeneity. "We started to drift apart after some thoughtless utterances on my part, but Lily was always good at reaching out to others and she insisted we take a photo together."

"I've never seen this photo before," Harry said. "Hagrid gave me a photo album my first year at Hogwarts but most of the pictures are of my dad."

"Lily was a bit camera-shy," Severus offered, refusing to comment on James Potter's attention-seeking tendencies for fear of ruining the moment. "And I'm afraid I was not very cooperative when Hagrid approached me about his project."

Harry looked up at him at that, studied him for a moment like he had studied the photo and then smiled, blindingly bright and so much like Lily that it was as if he had appropriated her smile merely by looking at it. Or maybe Severus had never wanted to notice the similarities before. Hindsight rendered his perceptions less certain.

"Thanks for sharing it with me now," Harry interrupted his musing, brushing a fleeting kiss over his cheek. "What do you say about hanging this picture in the library? This way, we can both feel close to her."

"I think that's a good idea," Severus agreed, and offered his opinions, when prompted, until they settled on the wall space directly above Harry's master book, which by now catalogued all the books in their library; Severus thought that Lily might have appreciated her place of honour above this fountain of knowledge.

"I would suggest adding some of our wedding photos, but you don't look nearly as happy in them as you do here," Harry said, still looking at the picture of him and Lily.

"There'll be others," Severus answered and it sounded like a promise as he stepped behind Harry and enclosed his lithe, strong body in his arms. If someone had taken a picture of them then, it would have shown the same besotted expression on his face as in the older photograph.

"I hope so," Harry murmured, leaning back into him as if he actually needed Severus' strength. "I really hope so."

Severus kissed his temple, then rested his cheek atop Harry's wild crown of hair and returned Lily's and his own questioning gazes, not feeling the usual pang of regret and rejection. It was time to move on.