DEDICATED: To everyone who reviewed or favorited or put me on alert because of Into the Night; this story would not exist if you hadn't kept asking for it. Thank you for believing in this story and loving it enough to ask for it.
WARNING: Slash. Profanity.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.

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Dirty Little Secret

"Let me know that I've done wrong
When I've known this all along
I'd go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you"
-All-American Rejects; Dirty Little Secret

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Harry Potter knew that he couldn't keep it up. It was ridiculous.

Severus Snape was a smart man. A clever man. A man that survived not one, but two wars. Wars where he had been a double agent. This was madness.

But... it felt so right.

Harry hadn't meant for this whole situation to come about. When he had left Severus in that club he had already decided to not have any more contact with his ex-professor. Nothing but bad things could happen, especially when the older man learned who the mystery girl really was.

After a few more minutes of thinking, Harry decided that, really, this was Hermione's fault. She was the one who had taught him the complicated spell to become a girl. That, and she was the one that had talked him into this, even if she hadn't known exactly what she was talking him in to. Yes, Harry decided, it was Hermione's fault.

Three weeks ago...

Harry had never felt so wired in his life. Not even during the war when he was fighting almost constantly for his life. He imagined he could still feel the sparks and electricity dancing across his skin, even though he knew that they had stopped as soon as he had broken contact with Snape.

Snape. Oh Merlin. He pounded harder on the door in front of him. He knew it was ridiculously early in the morning-or late at night depending on who you were talking to-but after pacing in his own apartment for two hours straight, he didn't care that it was four thirty in the morning. He couldn't take it anymore. He had no idea what had just happened and so had gone to the only person he thought could tell him. Why the hell wasn't Hermione or her useless husband answering the damn door?

He pounded harder.

"For fuck's sake!" he heard Hermione's husband yell before yanking the door back, wand clutched in his hand, "Stupid, damn muggles..."

Draco Malfoy, his arm raised with the obvious intent to blast the muggle he expected to see to kingdom-come, froze when he realized who it was. "Potter," he sneered. "I couldn't feel any magic..." Then he grimaced, a pained look crossing his face. "You're doing that again, aren't you?"

Oh. Harry hadn't even realized that he was still holding his magic tightly within himself. He had done it in desperation when he had run from Snape, far too out of sorts to even attempt to apparate.

He smirked, feeling a bit of his humor returning, and deliberately kept his magic beneath his skin. He knew how much this bothered the pureblood. Purebloods were taught that to hide one's magic was a disgrace to their heritage-hell, to their very being-because it made it impossible for one to tell a muggle and a wizard apart. Harry had learned out of desperation during the war, so that he could hide better. Now he did it almost constantly except when in a friend's home or when in his female form. It was another safety precaution so that he could go out unmolested, either by his fans or by someone who wanted to see him dead; basically, it made it so that other people couldn't ever get a feel for his magic and use it against him. He did it so often that feeling his magic running free was almost stranger than holding it in.

"You're a dick," Malfoy said, after a few minutes and Harry hadn't released his magic. But he still stepped aside to let Harry in, not able to hide another grimace as Harry got close to him. Harry sighed, after all Malfoy was trying and this was one of his few serious hang-ups, so Harry released his magic, letting it flow into the air between them. Malfoy released a breath and smirked, which was about as close to a thank you that Harry knew he was going to get.

At that moment, as Harry was toeing off his shoes so has not to send Hermione into epileptic fits if he accidently tracked in dirt, Hermione came into the hallway. She was also carrying her wand, although it was already lowering as she sensed Harry's magic.

"Harry," she said, coming over and wrapping him in a hug. He couldn't help that he gripped her with a desperation that he couldn't quite hide, despite Malfoy looking on. "What's wrong? It's..." she glanced at the clock in the hallway, "Not even five yet."

Harry shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He wasn't sure where to start or how much he should tell. What if this was something weird and there was no explanation for it. For a tense few minutes all three just stood in the hallway staring at each other. Hermione, waiting patiently for Harry to explain; Harry, not knowing what to say; and Malfoy, waiting impatiently for something to happen.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" the blonde eventually exploded, "Potter, get your arse into the dining room and sit down while Hermione and I get some tea and food. I'm hungry." Harry couldn't help the small spike in his good humor when Malfoy offered food. Ron and Harry had found, much to their shared mirth, that Malfoy had a weird need to feed people when he felt that they were upset; it was such a motherly thing to do. That spike only grew larger when saw Hermione's exasperated look that came up every time one of them called the other by their surname. No matter how many times she gave them the "you've known each other forever and are practically friends" speech, they still refused to be on a first name basis. It bothered Hermione to no end which was, of course, one of the reasons that Malfoy and Harry kept doing it. Well, that and neither one of them was going to be the first to give in.

Harry went to the dining room, taking his usual place, while Hermione and Malfoy went into the kitchen. He could hear the sounds of a whispered conversation, though not what they said. He knew that it would be something along the lines of Hermione asking if Malfoy knew anything and Malfoy telling her everything that he did know, which at this point wasn't much other than Harry had forgotten to release his magic when he had knocked on the door so that their wards could alert them as to who it was.

After a moment Hermione came out holding a tea tray while Malfoy followed with bowls of fruit and some cinnamon rolls, looking freshly baked, that he no doubt had bought a night or two before and put preservation charms on. For, while Malfoy loved shoving food down people's throats, he didn't enjoy cooking said food.

After everyone had served themselves, both Hermione and Malfoy looked pointedly at Harry, letting him know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the ball was in his court. He took a sip of tea to steady his nerves and finally got up the courage to say, "Something weird happened when I was out dancing last night."

Hermione made an interested noise while Malfoy rolled his eyes. He had never understood Harry's dislike of his own popularity and found it ridiculous that Harry went to the trouble of turning himself female to get away from it.

After a few more minutes and some more tea, Harry continued, "I was dancing. And this bloke walked up and started dancing with me and there was this... strange reaction. Like lightning between our skin." Harry was surprised to notice that while Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion, Malfoy's eyes widened. "This bloke, he seemed surprised at the reaction, but not shocked... if that makes any sense. Like he knew it was going to happen but hadn't known exactly what to expect."

Harry trailed off, looking back and forth between Hermione and Malfoy. Hermione still looked confused and had the look on her face that meant she was going through the vast amounts of information that she had in her head, searching for something that sounded even vaguely similar. Malfoy, on the other hand, had gone from looking shocked to amused. Hermione hadn't noticed but Harry had, "Alright, Malfoy, what's the joke?"

"Nothing. There's no joke. It's just so ironic that it's kind of funny, that's all," Malfoy said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the power of having knowledge over not just Harry but Hermione as well.

Hermione turned to him, eagerness to learn something new already on her face, "So you know what it is. What Harry's talking about? Is it a spell? A potion? Of course, I've never heard of anything like this before. Harry, what did it feel like? Was it unpleasant? Did it hurt? Or was it just a light show? Did anyone else notice?"

When they could get away with it, which wasn't often-Hermione was going to make a scarily all-knowing mother someday-it was moments like this where Malfoy and Harry would roll their eyes at each other in a rare moment of true camaraderie, both finding Hermione's rapid-fire question endearingly annoying.

"Dearest," Malfoy said as he lay a calming hand on hers, which had its intended effect. Harry was rather jealous, although he would never tell the prat that, of Malfoy for this ability; he was the only one Harry knew of that could get her to calm down when she got like that. "It's quite simple. It's just very rare. It's a reaction to two souls that connect on a level that very few do. Romantics would call it a soul mate's reaction to one another." And, with that, Malfoy leaned back, obviously enjoying the look on both Hermione's and Harry's face.

"But-wait-no-you can't-it can't-You're mistaken!" Harry managed to stutter out, "There's just no way!"

"Why?" Malfoy asked. "It's quite well-known to the purebloods, but not really something that you'll find in many books. It's real, just very rare. You're actually very lucky."

Lucky?! For the first time in a long time, Harry seriously wanted to punch the smug little ferret in the face. The only reason he managed to hold back was the fact that Hermione would kill him and the fact that Malfoy had no idea who he was talking about. It was Snape, for Merlin's sake! Snape!

"You don't understand. That can't possibly be right. I've been around this person before and nothing like that's ever happened," Harry said rather frantically, sure that there was some other expectation.

Malfoy's eyebrow rose at that. "Well... soul mates can't usually sense each other until both have reach their magical maturity." Harry really wished that he wouldn't use the words "soul mate" to describe this whole horrid situation. "Either they just reached theirs or you haven't been around them since you reached yours. Yours came so late that the latter is entirely possible." Harry couldn't help wincing at the memory. Despite the fact that he had been twenty-six when he had finally reached his maturity, his body had still gone through the ringer and he'd been bed-ridden for a week and a half afterwards while his body both healed itself and adjusted to the sudden surge in magic.

"So it's someone you knew?" Hermione said, and for the first time ever Harry found himself wishing that Hermione were less a girl and more an academic. He'd rather she'd focus on the whole scientific (well, as scientific as things got with magic) aspect of it, rather than the gossipy side of this situation. Apparently, she had rightly deduced that she could pump Malfoy for information later but that Harry was seconds away from disappearing out the door and pretending that this whole conversation had never happened.

"Yeah... a long time ago. Listen, can we not talk about that aspect of it; the person doesn't like me very much."

Malfoy scoffed, "Not like you? Did you not hear what I said?" He paused and then continued, over-enunciating the words as though he were talking to an idiot or a small child, "Soul. Mates." Harry glared at him for saying those hated words again while Draco continued normally, "You may not know it, but you two fit together like two puzzle pieces. You're meant to be together."

"It doesn't matter what legend or history or whatever says; he doesn't like me. He's made himself perfectly clear in the past and I have no reason to think that this has changed, especially since I haven't seen him in five years." Well, it had actually be longer than that, but if he admitted that the last time he had seen Snape was when he graduated Hogwarts, that would be a rather dead giveaway as to who it might be. There were very few people at Hogwarts, Malfoy rather ironically included, that had hated his guts that badly at his graduation.

Hermione had adopted her I'm-going-to-figure-out-this-puzzle look. "Hermione!" Harry startled his friend out of her thoughts. "I'm begging you to not try to figure out who it is. It's fine. It was probably some weird magical reaction or something, caused by something one of us ate. I just want to forget it every happened."

Malfoy looked insulted that he would ever confuse badly digested food and soul mates, and opened his mouth to retort, only to be stopped by Hermione's hand on his arm. Man, Harry wished that he could do that; there were plenty of occasions where Harry would have done anything to shut Malfoy up.

"Harry..." Here she paused, obviously searching for the right words. "We'll respect your feelings on the matter. But remember, not just your feelings are at stake here." Harry started. He hadn't thought about that. "You said that this man seemed to know what it was." It wasn't a question, but Harry nodded dutifully. "Then, he probably knows what it means. Or," she corrected herself on seeing Harry's glower, "What he thinks it means. So, he thinks that he's found his soul mate and then lost him-her-possibly forever. How do you think that would make you feel?" Harry shifted under her gaze, not needing to answer because she knew exactly what he was thinking. Damn her for being right. "Even if you think that he doesn't like you." She held up her hand when he opened his mouth to protest that he didn't think, he knew. "You owe him the right to make his own mind up on the matter."

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. Well, there it was. He couldn't exactly not tell Snape now, could he?

Back in the present...

It still took him a week to get up the courage to do anything about it. And when he had finally gone to Hogwarts to see the man, in girl form so that the professor wouldn't curse him right awar, he had chickened out.

Because when Severus had opened the door, the older man had looked at him as though Harry coming back was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Like, now that Harry was near him, there was nothing more in the world that he would ask for. As if, now that Harry were in it, everything in the world was right. And Harry, who had barely ever been wanted for anything more than being the boy-who-lived or a punching bag or a slave or a sacrificial lamb, had looked up into the face of the person who had touched and thus knew his very soul, and found that Severus didn't find him wanting, as Harry so often felt. Severus wanted Harry, just Harry.

So, as Harry stood there, meeting the eyes of the man that loved him, heart and soul, watching as Severus' face softened in a way that Harry would never have thought possible, in a way that was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful, Harry fell. He fell completely and utterly and impossibly in love with Severus Snape, feared potions professor of Hogwarts and one of the banes of his youth.

Standing there, lost for words, feeling Severus' magic reach out and entwine with his, Harry felt complete for the first time. Like two puzzle pieces, meant to be together, finally joining to form something bigger and more beautiful. And, when Harry opened his mouth, meaning to explain everything, he found that the only thing that would come out was a small and timid, "Hi."

Yes, Harry though decisively. This was all Hermione's fault. And Malfoy's too, while he was at it. In fact, make it mostly Malfoy's, because Harry liked him less than Hermione.

It was at this moment that Severus entered the restaurant, running late for once in his life, and walked quickly over to the table, ignoring the host completely, pulled Harry into a passionate kiss. As though he were a starving man that could only find sustenance in Harry. Harry melted, as he always did, relishing in the feeling of being wanted, being loved.

It was as Severus pulled away that Harry caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head slightly, he caught the shocked gaze of Hermione, who had tripped over a plant upon seeing him lip-locked with Severus. She was being helped up by Malfoy who looked as though any moment he were going to burst out laughing. Ron, standing behind the married couple, looked as though at any minute he might faint, and was clutching desperately at the hand of the woman he was currently dating.

Out of the corner of his eye, his saw Severus' head start to turn in his startled friends' direction. His mind, despite years of training to get him out of life-threatening situations, didn't know what to do at all in a situation where it wasn't his life but his heart and soul on the line.

The only even vaguely sensible thing it could manage to garble out in its panic: Bloody fuck.

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IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON WITH THE SEQUEL TO "DIRTY LITTLE SECRET", I HIGHLY RECOMMEND CHECKING OUT MY PROFILE. I WRITE DOWN WHAT'S GOING ON WITH THE STORY THERE AND UPDATE IT WHEN ANYTHING CHANGES.(Added 16 April 2013)

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A/N: o.O I know, a sequel, right! I really, really hoped that you enjoyed it! If there were any mistakes, please let me know.

To be honest, I've basically stopped writing fanfiction in an attempt to focus on my original fiction. However, I always kept coming back to a sequel to "Into the Night", simply because I still had tons of people wishing for it, even though it's been two years since I posted it. So, to everyone who one way or another let me know that they were reading it, and especially to those who reviewed, this story exists only because of your love for it.

Unfortunately, I know that this ending is open for another sequel. I say "unfortunately" because I have no idea if I'll write one. That being said, don't give up hope. If you want a sequel: review, favorite, and/or alert this story, so that I know that you want one but please know that I can't guarantee one. My muse is an incredibly fickle thing and I'm very much of the opinion that a forced story is worse than no story at all. But, do let me know you if you like it, even if it's just by putting the story on "story alert". There were times where I wouldn't think of a sequel for "Into the Night" for days or weeks and, suddenly, someone would like it and let me know, and it would bring it to my mind again. It kept the idea of a sequel in my head long after I would have forgotten about it and moved on.

Also, I sincerely hoped that this cleared up a lot of questions that everyone had. You had some good ones that made this story more fully fleshed than it would otherwise be. I honestly couldn't answer the majority of them because, before this fic, I really didn't know; it all kind of just came together.

Thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. And a special thank you to all the people out there that didn't give up on Harry, Severus, and I.