BISCUITS WITH A SIDE OF BETRAYAL

by Warviben

Summary: Voldemort has been defeated, and Harry has returned to Hogwarts to finish his education. He approaches Severus Snape, who has survived Nagini's bite, for information regarding his mother. Snape proposes a trade.

Warnings: This fic will eventually contain a relationship between the two male lead characters. If this sort of thing isn't your cup of tea, please save yourself the stress of reading further.

Note: Well that worked out perfectly. Post the last chapter today, go on vacation tomorrow. And so you all can be jealous of me, I leave tomorrow for Orlando. Where I will spend my birthday. AT HOGWARTS.

Thanks to each and every one of you who has stayed with this thing until the end. Thanks especially to those of you who have taken the time to review. I read every one and feel bolstered by your kind words of support.

You probably all hated me after the last chapter, but hopefully this makes up for it. And we certainly earn our M rating here.

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Chapter Thirty-one

Seven years later . . .

Severus Snape walked the streets of New York City, keeping as much distance as possible (which wasn't much) from the masses. This city was fascinating, though crowded, and Severus was pleased he'd made the trip here for the International Potions Masters conference. He'd almost not signed up, but at the last moment he'd owled in his registration paperwork. The symposium earlier today on the use of aloe in conjunction with other plants and herbs in healing balms alone had made the trip worthwhile, and the demonstration of the effectiveness of copper-bottomed cauldrons was fascinating. And now, while the rest of the conference members were dining together, and drinking together and socializing, Severus was walking the streets, observing the sights, experiencing the sounds, of a city he'd always wanted to visit. He'd eat later in the quiet of his room.

Severus turned right onto 41st Street and immediately stopped dead in his tracks. There, several yards ahead of him on the street, was a man, a very familiar-looking man, at least from the back, a man that Severus hadn't seen for seven years and had thought never to see again. As he stood there, the man, who might or might not be Harry Potter, was getting further and further away from him, and finally Severus shook himself loose and began to follow.

He kept his quarry in sight only by twisting and turning through the crowd. A block later, the man turned left onto Broadway. By the time Severus arrived at the intersection, the man was nowhere in sight.

##########

The following day, Severus was standing in the exact spot where he'd last seen Potter the previous day. He hoped that he'd seen Potter yesterday living his regular routine, and that if he waited here today he'd find him. He was owed some answers, and by Merlin, he intended to get them. He leant as surreptitiously as possible against a post, keeping his eyes open, looking at his watch every so often, not losing patience when the time he'd been here yesterday came and went. His perseverance was rewarded when he spotted the man coming toward him, the green eyes focused to the front, a takeaway bag in one hand. There was no doubt any longer – this was Harry Potter. He waited for Potter to pass, then stepped into the foot traffic behind him.

He only had to follow his quarry for half a block before the familiar head of hair turned and entered the door of an apartment building. Severus intended to follow him through the door, at a discrete distance, but by the time he arrived, the door had closed, and the security system in the building would allow access only to those who knew the code or those who were allowed admittance by someone from inside.

A list of the tenants was posted beside the door, showing the names and apartment numbers of those who lived inside. Snape looked down the list. There were sixteen apartments in the building, four to a floor if the numbering system had any logic to it. Quick review of the list revealed no Potter, so perhaps Harry was visiting someone, or he was living here under an assumed name. Severus went down the list, name by name: 1A - B. Charles; 1B - D. Ogden; 1C - G. Hartnett; 1D - V. Theriault; 2A - E. Beemis; 2C - H. Peverell; 2D - . . .

Peverell. That couldn't be a coincidence. Severus went quickly down through the remaining names, just to be sure, but Peverell was the only one that had any connection to Harry Potter.

Snape's finger went to the bell, but he stopped before pressing it. Chances were better than even that Potter wouldn't even let him in if he rang the bell. No, he had to get inside, show up at Potter's door, and force entrance if need be. Then he'd get the answers he'd been waiting for for so long. He'd come back tomorrow, somehow get inside the building, knock on Potter's door and not go away until he'd gotten what he needed.

##########

And he did come back the next day, just as he'd intended, an hour earlier than before, to give himself enough time to infiltrate the building before Potter came home. He placed himself under a notice-me-not spell and lounged against the side of the building, biding his time. He waited twenty minutes before another tenant left the building. Before the door had closed behind him, Severus had slipped inside the closing door.

He located flat 2C, which had a conveniently placed maintenance cupboard nearby. A simple Alohomora to gain him access, and a spell on the door to allow it to be seen through from his side, and he was ready to wait for Potter to get home.

##########

Forty minutes later, Potter was ambling up the hallway toward his door. Before Severus could decide whether to jump out and accost the young man before he entered his apartment, or whether to wait and knock and request entry, Potter had gone inside. Severus counted to five and left his hiding place.

##########

Harry opened the door, assuming one of his neighbors was calling, since no one had rung the bell from the street. When he saw who his caller was, his mouth dropped open. "Holy hell," he said. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"Coincidence. I've come for answers. You owe me."

"I . . . What? I owe you? Of all the . . . after what you did to me?"

"What I did to you? I only did what you wanted. May we take this inside?"

"No! You're not coming in here! You betrayed me! I trusted you, and you . . . used me for your own sick fantasies!"

"What are you talking about, betrayed? You asked me to do those things to you! I only did what you wanted!"

"What I wanted? How could you think I wanted you to do those things to me? Do you know how long I'd been looking forward to that night? How much I wanted you to be my first?"

"That is what I wanted as well!" Snape protested. "But then you said those things in the letter."

Harry stared at him like he'd turned green. "What are you talking about?"

"The letter you wrote. To me. Telling me what you . . . Didn't you write a letter?"

"I wrote a letter, but I never asked you to . . .." Harry stared at him for a moment. "I think you'd better come in." Harry stepped aside so that Snape could pass inside the apartment. Severus took a moment to look around. It was nice. There was obvious money here, but not ostentatiously so. The furnishings were expensive and well-maintained, but the room into which Harry ushered him seemed . . . sterile, impersonal, like whoever lived here did so by himself, no family, no visitors. He had a pet, though, to break up the silence. A black cat with a familiar white patch came padding from the kitchen area. Snape remembered Dora, the little part-kneazle with metamorphmagus abilities that Harry had purchased during his eighth year. She'd been still a kitten when Harry had left him – she was a fully-grown, gorgeous cat now. She twined around her master's ankles, then looked up expectantly at Snape.

"Um . . . would you like to sit?" Harry invited, clearly out of practice at entertaining.

"Yes, thank you." Snape seated himself on the sofa, and Harry sat in the comfortable-looking recliner.

Dora jumped into the familiar lap, and Harry began absently patting her. "Start at the beginning," he ordered.

"The beginning is too far back. What we need is the beginning of the end. I received a letter. From you. In that letter, you said . . . you asked me if I would fulfill your fantasy on the night we first came together."

"I never wrote any such letter," Harry said, obviously confused. "I got a letter from you asking me to tell you what my fantasy was, so that our first night together . . ." Harry was unable to continue as memories of their time together filled him with rage and humiliation again, but his curiosity forced those feelings aside. There was something strange going on here. "You received a letter from me first? You never mentioned any such letter to me."

"You asked me not to. You told me you were embarrassed, and you asked me not to speak to you of it. You asked me to leave a response to you in a bathroom. I thought it was a little odd, but I could understand that you might a bit nervous about the whole thing, so I wrote you back, telling you I would do whatever you wanted. And I left the note in the place you had requested."

"And you got a response? But not the one I wrote?"

"I received a letter that I believed to be from you. It was written in your handwriting. You wrote, in great detail, about how you wanted your first time to unfold."

"And I said I wanted . . . that?"

Severus nodded in confirmation.

"But I didn't . . . I would never . . . that was more like my worst nightmare than a fantasy. The letter that I wrote asked you to . . . Who did this? Who wrote the letters?"

Severus had figured it out already, and he was quite sure that Harry had as well. "Can't you think of someone who wanted to come between us?"

"Malfoy," Harry said. It had to be Malfoy. "Oh God. When I left . . . after you . . . when I was leaving your place that night, he was there, in the hallway. He said that you'd charmed the wall in your quarters so that all of the Slytherins could watch when you . . . He said that you'd been leading me on all year, playing a prank on me, that you'd always intended to betray and humiliate me."

"And you believed him?"

"After what you'd just done to me?!" Harry cried. "And he seemed to know. How could he know if he hadn't been watching? And if that part was true, then all the rest of it must be, too, right?" Harry asked, looking at him with beseeching eyes. "I couldn't stay, not knowing that they'd all seen it. And I felt so hurt and so betrayed and so humiliated that I didn't think I'd be able to look you in the eye ever again. I convinced myself that you'd finally had your revenge on my father. So I packed up my stuff and I left. That night."

"Did you tell no one where you'd gone?"

"I told McGonagall only that I was leaving. I owled Hermione," Harry said. "I'd told them, her and Ron, about . . . us, when I was in London for my NEWT. She was all right with it, but Ron . . ." He didn't want to get into that ugly scene again. "Anyway, I owled her that things hadn't gone very well and that I needed to get away for a while."

"And you came here?"

"Yes. As soon as I could, I apparated away from Hogwarts. I went to Heathrow, and I got on the next plane out. I didn't even care where it was going. I just wanted out. I ended up here."

"You have a passport?"

"Yeah. Hermione made us, Ron and me, get them when we were hunting horcruxes. She said you never knew when we might need to make use of Muggle transportation. I think they were real, although I wouldn't put it past her to have forged them. If it was a forgery, it was a good one, because no one questioned it."

"And what have you been doing since?"

"That's . . . but there's something I don't understand. You said the letter was in my handwriting. How is that possible?"

"The same way that your Miss Granger would have made the passport, if she did indeed do such a thing. Forgery spell. If you have an original document to work from, copying the handwriting or the formatting is child's play. All Draco would have needed is a sample of your handwriting. That would have been easy enough to obtain, I would wager – an old essay left laying around would have done the trick."

"But how would he have known that that scenario . . . with you . . . what you did to me . . . how would he have known that that was the one thing that would have driven me away from you?"

"I don't understand."

"My worst memory. The one that I wanted to wash. Remember the potion you taught us? That was the one I chose."

"I'm afraid I still don't understand. You had a memory of me spanking you?"

Harry's cheeks colored at the remembered humiliation. "I don't think I want to talk about this any more. I'm really sorry that I didn't talk to you before I left, because maybe we would have straightened this all out back then, but I . . . I think you should go now."

"I have been wondering what happened for seven years. I gave you everything that I thought you wanted, despite how personally abhorrent I found it, and my reward for that was you disappearing, without a word or a trace. I understand now why you felt the need to flee without speaking to me, but I want to understand how this happened to us. I need to understand. Please."

Harry jumped up from the chair, dumping Dora onto the floor, and Snape thought sure he was about to be evicted forcefully. But Harry only began to pace agitatedly between the front door and the door to the kitchen. The cat, sensing the tension in the room, raced back into the kitchen. Harry seemed to be working something out in his mind, so Snape let him be. Finally, after many minutes of muttering and hair pulling, Harry stopped and heaved a deep sigh. "It wasn't you. In the memory. It was my uncle."

"Your uncle used corporal punishment on you?"

"Yes, but it was worse. It only happened when my aunt and cousin weren't home. He'd start drinking. He . . . he used to get angry with me, on purpose I think, using any small thing as a reason. And then he would punish me. It started out as simple spanking, over the clothes, one swat. But then it . . . changed. Each time it would get a little worse. He made me drop my trousers, and he'd hit on the bare. And then he'd make me lay across his lap when he did it. And then he made me take everything off. And then . . . and then he took his own trousers off. He would get . . . hard as I lay there across his lap, crying and begging him to stop. The more I squirmed, the more he seemed to like it. And then that last time, the time I put in the pensieve, he was going to go further. He pulled me into his bedroom. He hit me and threw me onto the bed. He made me say I wanted it and that I was a whore. And he was going to rape me. But before he could . . . put it in, my wild magic went crazy and threw him off of me. I was eight." Harry's telling of these horrific events was somewhat detached. The potion had done a good job of washing the memory, and it almost seemed now as though it had happened to someone else.

"Oh, Harry."

"He never came near me after that," Harry assured him. "I think he was too afraid. But I wanted our first time together to be just the two of us, not him. So I put that memory into the pensieve, and I washed it, and when I put it back, it was . . . better. I could think on it without feeling the fear and the shame and the humiliation. I knew that it happened to me, but it felt as though it was someone else's memory. Brilliant potion, that."

"Did you ever tell Draco Malfoy about that memory?"

"What? No! Of course not! I've never shared that memory with anyone before now! I wasn't about to start with someone I hated!"

"But don't you see he must have known about it?" Severus argued. "How else could he have set this up? Did he ever have access to the pensieve at any point while you were washing the memory? Did you ever leave it alone?"

Harry dropped back into the chair and put his head into his hands. He thought back to the day he'd put that memory into the pensieve. "Yes!" he said, as the horror of that day returned to him. "That was the day Morag Macdougal's leg disappeared! Oh my God! Do you think he cursed her, just to get me out of the way?"

"I have recently come to believe that that boy is capable of anything."

"So he . . . he set the whole thing up? Learned my worst memory, wrote a letter to you from me telling you that was what I wanted most, and then waited to see the fallout? Made sure I'd leave by telling me that you'd set me up and let all the Slytherins witness my humiliation?"

"It appears that way, yes."

"Where is he now?" Harry demanded.

"I have not seen him for at least two years. He ran into some trouble when a man he was involved with dropped him suddenly. He'd been living off this man, running up debt with many shops, and when he was cut off from funds, and had no means with which to pay that debt, he disappeared. Rumors had him living with his mother's family in the south of France."

"If you know where he is, I want you to tell me!"

"I assure you I do not, nor do I have any interest in protecting him. He has taken something from me as well."

Harry jumped up again. "I could kill him!"

"I share the sentiment," Snape said calmly. "But as we have no idea of his whereabouts at the moment, I'm afraid revenge must wait."

"I'm so sorry, Severus," Harry whispered.

"Whatever for?"

"I just ran away. Like a scared little child. If I'd only stayed and talked to you . . ."

"Do not blame yourself, Harry. Draco and Draco alone is responsible for this."

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked, looking and sounding lost.

"I . . . don't know. I finally have the answers I have been seeking," Severus said, rising to his feet. "I suppose that I shall return home."

Harry stood quickly. "Wait! Do you have to go? I mean . . . have you eaten? I was just about to eat. I've plenty, if you'd like to stay. For dinner."

Severus considered the invitation. "I would like that."

Harry smiled warmly. "Great. The kitchen's . . .." He gestured vaguely in its general vicinity.

Severus followed Harry into the small kitchen. While Harry retrieved plates and utensils, Severus poured tea, and Dora began a very charming attempt at begging to share their dinner. When they had both been seated at the small table and had served themselves from the take-away containers, Harry broke a piece of chicken into pieces and set it on the floor, where Dora pounced on it immediately. He turned to Severus and asked, "So what are you doing in New York?"

"Potions conference," he answered after wiping his mouth on a napkin. "I've been here four days. I was taking a walk two days ago when I spotted you one street over. I lost you in the crowd, but I returned yesterday to the spot where I had last seen you and waited for you at the same time as I'd seen you the day before. I followed you to this building, but I could not get in because of the security system."

"So you came back today?" Harry asked, looking a little pleased.

"I did. I waited until a tenant left the building, and I slipped in behind him. I found your flat and waited in the maintenance cupboard across the hall for you to come home."

"How did you know I lived here, that I wasn't just visiting a friend or something?"

"I didn't. But I hoped, since you were here two days in a row at approximately the same time, that this was your normal after-work routine."

"You hoped?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Severus said, looking frankly into Harry's eyes. "As I said, I have been wondering for a very long time just what happened on that night, why you left me and then disappeared like you did. When I saw an opportunity to finally have some answers, I did not want to just let it go. I wanted to know what I had done wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong!" Harry protested. "Well, I guess back then I thought you did, but . . ."

"I surmised I must have done something to drive you away like that. I believed I was giving you just exactly what you wanted in a first-time experience, but I hardly had a vast amount of experience in that area. It was entirely possible that I had somehow messed something up without realizing."

"You didn't," Harry assured him.

"You can say that now," Severus pointed out. "Neither of us knew then what had happened. I simply wanted to know, for my own peace of mind, I guess."

"Oh," Harry said. He paused to take another bite, and his cheeks colored when he slurped the noodle he was eating. "Sorry."

Severus felt the same attraction for the boyish young man before him that he'd felt all those years ago. He wanted to ask what Harry had been doing for the last seven years, how he made his living, who his friends were, whether he had a lover, whether he'd ever had a lover, but before he could speak, Harry was asking yet another question.

"Are you still teaching at Hogwarts? I haven't had much contact with anyone but Hermione, and we don't really speak about the school much."

"I left Hogwarts five years ago and am now with a private company researching and brewing potions. The hours are fewer and the pay is exponentially greater."

"Plus it sounds like something you would enjoy much more than teaching," Harry observed.

"That is certainly a benefit. What about yourself, Harry? What have you been doing for the last seven years?"

"Well, when I first got here, I didn't know anyone, of course. I sort of drifted around for a bit before I met this bloke who was looking for an apprentice. He took me under his wing, taught me everything he knew, and when he passed away three years ago, he left me his business. He didn't have any family. He told me many times I was like the son he'd wished he'd had."

"And what is it exactly that you do?"

"I make wands, mostly. And broomsticks. The occasional staff. Oh, and wooden stirring rods, for those potions that require it."

This interested Severus. Some earth magic potions required that nothing touch them that wasn't organic itself. Wood was a great conductor of magic, obviously, but wooden stirring rods had to be crafted by a master who knew what he was about – too much magic used in the manufacture of the rod would nullify the effects of the potion. When he'd moved to Potable Potions two years ago, they had just started using wooden stirring rods that had come from overseas. Severus had found them to be far superior to any he could obtain locally and refused now to use any but those from Sedgewood.

"What is the same of your business?"

"Sedgewood," Harry said, confirming what Severus suspected he was going to hear.

Severus smiled. "I am very familiar with your product. They are excellent. Just the right balance of magic in every one."

Harry smiled in return, pleased by this exacting man's recommendation of his product. "Thank you."

"You must tell me all about the process. The rods that I have are made from redwood, I was told."

"Yes, that's right."

"Are not the redwoods endangered?"

"They are," Harry confirmed. "I use only what has dropped naturally from the tree. I have a supplier on site in California who is able to pick branches up almost before they touch the ground, I think. They've still got their life's magic in them, but it's stabilized, because the branch has broken from the tree. I can get several stirring rods or wands from one branch. Even made a broomstick from one once. Using the branches the tree has released allows the tree to continue to thrive, and the stable magic makes it easier to carve, which is all done by hand, using the contours of the magic. It's kind of hard to explain. If you're interested, I could take you to the shop after dinner, show you around."

"I would like that very much," Severus said sincerely.

They finished their impromptu meal, talking little, and once they were finished, they left the apartment to walk the three blocks to Harry's studio. The door to the studio was decrepit and sandwiched between two others. It looked so nondescript and unimportant that it appeared no one would ever be interested in passing through it. Which, of course, was just how Harry had charmed it.

Once through the door, Severus found himself climbing a set of stairs that was nearly dimly-lit enough to cover the worn treads and the paint peeling on the walls. He began to wonder just how successful Harry's business was. He himself was certainly sold on the product, but it appeared that he might be one of a very few.

Once he passed through the door at the top of the stairs and Harry flicked on the light, however, an entirely new picture was presented. The space was one large room, decorated with light wood paneling and hardwood floors, and charmed to let in loads of natural light. Bins held like types of wood together along two walls, a third wall shelved tools of all sorts, both hand and electrical, and a huge workbench dominated the middle of the room. One corner housed a desk and filing cabinets and other office equipment and was clearly where Harry kept his books. The room was well-lit and smelled wonderfully of recently-sawn wood. There wasn't a speck of sawdust to be seen anywhere, so Harry obviously kept his materials and work area well maintained.

"Impressive," Snape murmured.

Harry glowed under the praise. "Thank you. See, here's the redwood," he said, leading Severus to one of the large bins. "It comes to me like this." He retrieved a large branch from one bin and held it out to Severus. "I cut it down to the lengths I need, then get as many wands or stirring rods as I can out of the piece." He walked toward the workbench in the center. "Then I carve it however the magic strikes me, here, using whichever tools I need." He gestured toward the tool board. "I finish it here." "Here" was one end of the workbench where polishes and waxes and stains and clean rags were stored.

"You do all this yourself?" Snape asked.

"Just me, myself, and I," Harry said brightly. "I don't sell direct to the consumer. I supply wand shops, potion supply houses, broomstick suppliers and the like."

"So you're here all day by yourself," Severus observed. "What types of things do you do in the evening?"

Harry looked away. "Mostly I just go home. Sometimes I cook, but sometimes I pick up something on the way home."

"Have you made no friends here? Surely you've been here long enough to have met people your own age?"

"Um . . . I don't get out much actually. After a long day of work, I like to just go home and put my feet up."

"That certainly does not sound like the Harry Potter I used to know. The Harry Potter I used to know was a highly social creature."

"I'm not him any longer," Harry said quietly.

"I can see that. And what about . . . intimate relationships? Have you found someone here to share yourself with?"

"You do not get to ask that question!" Harry said, anger fueled by embarrassment hardening his tone.

But Severus thought he had his answer, and he was saddened by the fact that the trauma they'd shared had made Harry cut himself off from life.

"What about you?" Harry challenged. "How many people have you been intimate with since I left?"

Severus thought about lying, but he owed Harry the truth. "Three," he said. Three men over the course of seven years wasn't shocking.

"Was Draco Malfoy one of them?" Harry asked.

"No. Which is not to say that he didn't offer himself. Repeatedly. But I never wanted Draco Malfoy, whether you were there or not. It was only you."

Harry was unable to continue looking at Severus. When he thought about what they'd lost, what Draco Malofy had caused them to lose, the time they'd not had together as a result of the man's machinations and his own cowardice, he just wanted to cry. "It was only you for me as well," he heard himself confessing in a whisper. "Always."

Severus stepped closer to the young man, wanting nothing more than to take him in his arms and soothe away the distress that had appeared on the dear features where just moments ago he'd seen pride and pleasure in his work. When Harry looked up at him, emotion welling in his eyes, Severus couldn't stop himself – he reached out and stroked a cheek with one finger. He expected Harry to slap his hand or at least to pull away, but Harry only turned into the contact and closed his eyes.

Severus caressed the cheek for a moment before hooking a finger under the chin and raising Harry's face. Once Harry opened his eyes, Severus bent slowly toward him, to give Harry time to object. When he did not, Severus leant in further and pressed his lips to Harry's. The kiss was at once familiar and new, and it only took Harry a moment to return it.

"It's like we never stopped," Harry whispered when they pulled apart.

Severus pulled Harry close and wrapped his long arms around the young man he'd never stopped loving. Was it too much to hope that they could somehow salvage what someone else had torn asunder? "I never stopped," he said into Harry's ear. "Never once."

Harry looked up at him. "Me either. It's been you. For all my life, it's been you. Would you . . . would you like to go back to my place?" He seemed to reconsider and began to backpedal, not physically so much as mentally, sure that he was reading Severus' interest wrong. "Maybe you have to get back. You said you came here with a group, maybe you . . ."

"Harry," Severus interrupted him. "I would like to accompany you back to your flat. I have no obligations this evening. If that is what you want."

Harry took Severus by the hand and led him toward the door.

##########

Once back in the apartment, Harry turned to Severus and kissed him again. Severus could feel a hardness pressing against his leg – Harry was eager. But he wouldn't be doing the young man any favors by taking advantage of him.

"Harry, I want you to be sure this is what you want."

Harry snuggled in under Severus' chin. "What I want," he said fervently, "is to close my eyes and take us back in time, to the night after I took my Potions NEWT. I'm coming down to the dungeons, down to you, because we've been so good, and we've waited so long to be together. I've been looking forward to your teaching me everything there is to know about loving another man. I think that you've been looking forward to it, too."

"Mmmm," Severus said, closing his eyes and resting his chin on Harry's head, losing himself in the scenario Harry was creating. "I've thought of very little else for the last two weeks."

"Good," Harry said, satisfied. "I've come to your quarters. You lead me into your bedroom. I'm so excited I can hardly walk."

"Come, Harry," Severus said, taking Harry's hand and wincing at the double entendre.

He led Harry through the kitchen, because it was the only other direction in which to go, and found the bedroom easily – it and the bathroom were the only rooms beyond. The room was large and thankfully the bed looked more than adequate for two men. Severus stopped them short of it and pulled Harry close again.

After several intoxicating kisses, Harry rested his forehead on Severus' chest. "I'm so close," he gasped. "Can you . . . can we . . .?"

"Let's get undressed, shall we?" Severus suggested. "May I . . .?"

Harry nodded, and Severus began the simple process of removing Harry's clothing – t-shirt, cargo shorts and pants. He hadn't even been wearing socks in recognition of the heat – he'd had on some type of sandals that he'd left beside the door. When the boy stood naked before him, shivering slightly from nerves, he couldn't help but stare. Harry was slight but well-muscled through the chest, his abdomen flat, his proud cock jutting out at a right angle from his body. It twitched when Severus looked at it, and he couldn't help but run a finger down the length and over the tip. Harry gasped and jutted his hips forward, seeking more.

"You now!" Harry begged. "Or I'm going to do this all by myself, all over your clothes!"

The blood in Severus' veins quickened its pace on its way south. "I do believe I'd like that," he growled. "In fact, it might make things easier. May I?" he asked, gesturing toward Harry's groin.

Harry hadn't wanted to do this standing up, but he was so aroused. And the way that Severus was looking at him wasn't helping, like the thought of making Harry come like this was enough to make him orgasm as well. He felt overwhelmed by his desire, hardly able to speak or reason or breathe.

"Please," he said.

Severus wrapped one arm around the boy's shoulders and one hand around that turgid cock. It was hot and needy in his hand, and he cast a spell to provide lubrication, then began to stroke, hard, fast strokes, and he'd barely begun before Harry was spurting his release. His body sagged, and he would have fallen to the floor had Severus not caught him and propped him up.

"To the bed," Severus suggested, and he half-dragged, half-carried the lifeless man to the bed.

Harry lay there and looked as though he might not move again for a long time. Couldn't have that.

"Oh, Harry."

Languid green eyes half-opened slowly, blinked closed, and then opened again. Severus couldn't help but smile with affection.

"I'm going to undress now," he informed the boy.

The green eyes opened a little wider now, interested despite his lassitude.

Severus undressed slowly. He knew he was less than lovely, but Harry seemed to appreciate the show, if the perking up of his just-sated cock was anything to go by. When he had completely disrobed, he crawled onto the bed, lay down beside Harry, and took him into his arms.

Harry snuggled into the crook of Severus' arm for a moment before his head popped up. "Sorry I was so terribly quick before," he said, blushing cutely. "I know the idea is to make it last."

"That was your first orgasm at another's hand I'd wager?"

The blush got deeper. "Yes."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. This is all new and exciting for you. And the fact that you have come once already will make you able to last longer the next time."

"The next time?" Harry squeaked.

"Of course, the next time. You didn't think we were through, did you?"

"Well, no, because you haven't . . ." he gestured vaguely at Severus' nether regions. "But I didn't know that I'd get another go."

Severus couldn't help it – he laughed at the boy's naivete. "Oh, Harry. You can have as many 'go's' as I can coax you into."

Harry smiled. "So what do we do now?"

"How about we start with this?" Severus leaned down to kiss Harry, a kiss that went on and on, until both men were panting and rubbing against one another.

"Tell me what you want now, Harry," Severus commanded.

"I want it all," Harry said. "I want . . . I want you in me."

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded.

"How close are you?"

"Pretty close," Harry confessed, hoping he wouldn't embarrass himself again.

"Then let's get this show on the road," Severus suggested. "I must prepare you. Have you any lubricant?"

"Bedside table," Harry said, immediately getting nervous about what they were about to do.

Severus retrieved the tube of lubricant. "Hands and knees, I think," he suggested, putting a hand to Harry's hip and encouraging him to roll over. Harry got into position readily enough, but he could feel his face burning. He felt so exposed, with his arse in the air, unable to see Severus behind him. He drew in a quick breath when he felt a puddle of lubricant being squeezed out onto his lower back.

"Cold?" Severus asked sympathetically.

"Mmm," Harry said.

"It won't be for long." Severus dragged one long finger through the lube and down the crack of Harry's arse, all the way down to his balls. Harry gasped again, for an entirely different reason, and pushed back toward Severus.

"You like that?"

"Mmmmmm," Harry groaned as Severus did it again, stopping this time to trace circles around his flexing hole. Harry felt the pressure as the finger breached him, slowly but inexorably, until the finger was completely inside him. Severus stopped with his finger buried, letting Harry become accustomed to the feeling.

"I'm going to move now," Severus told him, and backed the words up by withdrawing the finger slowly, then pushing it back in again, just as slowly. "You're so tight!" Severus said, reaching down to squeeze the base of his own cock, which felt ready to explode at any moment.

Back and forth, in and out, until Harry felt sufficiently loosened to add another finger. "Now another one," Severus said encouragingly.

The stretch this time was less than pleasant, and Severus could feel Harry tensing up. "Shhhh. We'll take this slow," he whispered. "You'll be more than ready for me when the time comes. Just relax." To help with this, Severus reached beneath Harry to fondle his wilting cock. Caressing in time with the fingers' movement into his arse helped Harry focus less on the burn and more on that incredible hand bringing him quickly back to full hardness.

"Hmmmm. More," Harry requested.

"Patience, pet. I'll not hurt you."

By the time Severus had loosened Harry up so that his three fingers were plunging in and out and wringing little noises of pleasure out of him, Harry had never wanted anything more than he wanted Severus to drive his beautiful cock home, and he'd been begging for it shamelessly for a while before Severus thought he was actually ready for it.

Finally, Severus got to his knees behind Harry. Still frigging him with one hand, he lubed up his own cock with the other. In one quick motion, he withdrew the fingers and replaced them with sweet relief.

"Ohhhh," he groaned as he sank up to the hilt in that incredible virginal tightness. "You are so . . . I don't think this is going to take long." Fighting his own baser instincts, Severus stilled inside Harry. He wouldn't hurt the boy by losing control like his blood was calling out for him to do. "Can you feel it, Harry? Can you feel my cock buried inside you, as far as it can go?"

"Yes!" Harry said, his own hand now playing with his weeping prick. "I feel so full!"

"Is there any pain?"

"A little," Harry admitted. "But I want you to move."

Severus did, just a little. "Can you feel my balls touching you, Harry?" He moved again, withdrawing only enough so that when he pushed back in, his sack brushed against Harry's thigh.

"Oh yes!" Harry groaned. He reached down and gripped his own balls, which were high and tight and ready to have this over with. He wanted to feel Severus' balls, too, so he widened his knees further and stuck a hand back. By stretching, he could just feel Severus' furry balls behind his own, and for some reason, this turned him on even more than having the man's cock stuffed up his arse. "More! Faster!"

Severus couldn't help but comply with the order – his own control had snapped at the feel of tentative fingers brushing against the wrinkled skin of his taut balls. He drew all the way out and pushed all the way back in, trying to be as gentle as possible, though he was rapidly losing the ability to control his motions. When he heard Harry mutter, "Fuck!" below him and felt the sphincter holding him tighten in spasm with Harry's orgasm, he couldn't reign himself in any longer, and he quickened his pace until he was pounding into the young man below him. It didn't take long before he, too, was spurting his seed. The orgasm seemed to last forever, and it left him wrung out and collapsed over Harry's back.

It was a long while before Severus got his breath back and with it, his sanity. He finally realized that he was draped bonelessly over Harry's back, and that the young man was still on his hands and knees, holding both of them up, and he began the process of carefully pulling himself from inside that incredibly tight tunnel. He cast a cleaning spell on Harry and then on the sheets, before he allowed himself to collapse to the bed beside Harry.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Harry looked at him through big green eyes gone soft with repletion. "Mmmmm," he said, closing his eyes in memory of the sensations that moments before had ripped through his body. "Never better."

"You may be sore tomorrow," Severus said. "I have a potion back in my hotel room that will assist you. I can retrieve it now, if you like . . ."

"Severus. Shush," Harry ordered, snuggling close to Severus, looking as though he was going to sleep in the next several seconds. "Worry about it later. Tomorrow. Next week. Sleep now."

Severus allowed himself to be prodded into an appropriate pillow, then fell asleep with Harry Potter in his arms.

##########

Harry awoke the following morning slowly, as was his habit, waiting until he was almost fully awake to open his eyes. He'd known immediately that he wasn't alone, and he was terribly afraid his dream would end the moment he opened his eyes. He did so slowly, and a smile crept over his face when he saw that Severus Snape still lay beside him. Severus was still asleep, and Harry resolved not to move, not to risk waking the man, so that he could keep him here as long as possible.

It was only minutes later, though, when Severus' eyes opened, blinking once, then once again, before opening fully and permanently and looking back at Harry. "Good morning," he said, his voice gruff from sleep.

"Morning," Harry responded. "Did you sleep well?"

Severus stretched a bit before answering, "I did. You?"

"Hmm. Like a baby."

An awkward silence settled between them. Harry was unsure what to do next. He'd never had a one-night stand and was unsure of the protocol. Should he offer Severus breakfast? Should he ask if he'd like another go, as Harry had woken with a stiffie he'd be more than willing to put to use? Would Severus just get up and go, never to be seen again? Harry very badly didn't want that to happen.

Finally, Severus spoke. "Well, I really should be getting back. I did travel here with a group. One presumes they will remark on my absence at some point and begin to concern themselves with my whereabouts."

"Do you have to go?" Harry asked, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "I was hoping . . . I really don't . . . I'd like it if . . . I'm sorry. I don't know how to do this."

"Fear not," Severus soothed him, reaching out a hand to stroke Harry's cheek. "I, too, would prefer not to run away. I find myself wishing I could spend some time with you. But I do have responsibilities. You, too, I assume must go in to work some time today?"

"The beauty of being self-employed is that I get to decide when I want a little holiday. I . . . will I ever see you again, Severus?"

Severus pulled Harry closer, so that the young man was once more snuggling in his embrace. "I don't really do one-offs, Harry. When I saw you two days ago, I realized just how much I'd missed you, how much I wanted another chance with you. I can only speak for myself, however. You will have to inform me if you want something more than last night."

"Oh, I do," Harry assured him. "But I don't know how we make this work. I'm here, and you're all the way back in London. That's a pretty long-distance relationship."

"Is there no chance that you will ever return home?"

"This is home now. I can't imagine what would happen if I went back and ran into Draco Malfoy. I'd likely end up in Azkaban just for thinking about what I'd do to him. But I can't just let this go."

"I do not want that either."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"Of course."

"Well, we really need to talk, I think, and spend some time together, to find out if we're still compatible. I have a vacation planned for next week. It's something I do every year. I have this camp up in Maine. It was given to me by the same man who gave me the business. It's a beautiful, secluded little spot, accessible only by boat. But don't worry, it's got all the amenities – electricity, indoor plumbing, running water. Internet even. There's a couple that stays there in exchange for taking care of the place for me and clearing out for two weeks every summer when I go up. If you'd like, you could go with me. We could get to know each other again, see where this thing might go. Once we establish whether we're still interested, we can try to work out the logistics."

"That sounds intriguing. Just you and me, two weeks alone in the wilderness."

"Well, it won't be just you and me. Hermione and Nathan always come."

"Nathan?"

"Hermione's son. He's five."

"He is not Mr. Weasley's son?" Severus asked, though he was quite sure he knew the answer. He'd been at Hogwarts still when the news that Weasley and Granger had split up had made the rounds. Strange that he hadn't heard about Granger's child, but he'd been gone from Hogwarts five years ago, and he'd lost touch with many of his former students then.

"No. She spent a night with a Muggle when she'd been out drinking with friends. Got pregnant. Never really knew who the bloke was to inform him that she was pregnant. So she had Nathan and has been raising him herself. She's an awesome mother."

"What happened to her and Weasley? Everyone thought they were destined to be together."

"Ron's reaction to me . . . being gay disturbed her. She'd thought it was the shock, you know, that day I told them about you, but he just never got over it. Turns out he was seriously homophobic. She ended their relationship six months after I left."

Severus was quiet, thinking things through, long enough that Harry began to get nervous.

"I'm sorry. Is that too much? Was I presuming too much? Just forget I said anything. I'm an idiot."

Severus shut Harry up by kissing him. "Hush, Harry. I was merely thinking about how best to accomplish this. I have not taken a holiday since I began my employment, so I can't think that anyone would object. The group I am traveling with is due to leave New York the day after tomorrow. I am mulling over in my mind ways in which I might remain behind. It makes little sense to leave in two days if I am to return shortly thereafter."

"You mean it?" Harry asked, hope shining through his eyes. "You want to stay?"

Severus took Harry's face in both hands. "I'm not sure I could leave if I tried." He kissed Harry once, briefly. "I have you back. I cannot imagine leaving you now for any length of time. Though I must make an appearance today at the conference, if only to let the others know of my change in plans."

Harry felt like crying he was so happy. He moved closer to Severus, burying his face in the man's neck and gasped at the ache in his bum with the movement.

"I will go back to my hotel now," Severus said softly, "and I will speak with my colleagues, and I will return with a salve that will help."

Harry kissed the chest beneath his cheek. "Hurry back," he requested. "I'll miss you."

"I will return within the hour," Severus promised. "And when I do, we will begin the process of laying the groundwork for the rest of our lives."

The end

So there it is – a happy ending. I just can't do sad or tragic, not at the end. Thanks again for reading!