unbroken_halo (unbroken_halo) wrote in pornicators, @ 2005-06-18 23:21:00 |
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Current mood: | bitchy |
Borrowed Time
Original poster: occasusvenustas
Title:: Borrowed Time
Author::occasusvenustas
Pairing:: Severus/Harry
Rating:: R-ish
Summary:: Severus Snape loved only once. But his lover is living on borrowed time.
Warnings:: A/U non-magic, adult language, sexual situations
Disclaimer:: Believe me, I own nothing Harry Potter. Otherwise, Snarry would be Canon. Just... trust me on this. Oh and no offence meant. *grins*
A/N:: My muse has returned. Wheeeee. I'm so happy I thought I'd post this. X-posted a few places, sorry if your flist was spammed. *loves everyone despite crap haircut* hee.
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Severus Snape heard the term ‘borrowed time’ four times in his life. The first time, he sneered. He found the words overly poetic and trite. He was interviewing candidates for Hogwarts University’s creative writing programme and the applicant was a young man called Harry Potter.
Severus could safely say he’d never seen a more frail looking man in his entire life. Harry Potter was quite tall, weighed all of seven stone… soaking wet. His face was sallow, his eyes seemed to bug out of his skull and he was totally bald.
Severus found the younger man’s appearance disconcerting, and horribly intriguing, which irritated him even further. Severus had been a professor of English and Literature at Hogwarts for ten years now and had never found himself more curious about a potential student.
Harry Potter’s eyes were an unusual shade of green and they also unnerved Severus slightly. They seemed too… knowing. A man of twenty-three years should not have eyes as wise as Harry Potter had.
Severus took a deep breath, tore his gaze away from the younger man and settled them on the application essay Harry was submitting. The title was Borrowed Time and it was an essay about his own death. It was slightly strange, but the wording and use of language was good. The man had talent.
That bothered Severus as well. He wanted to find something wrong with the paper to disqualify the young man so he wouldn’t have to teach him in the future. Severus, of course, was far too seasoned to bother with the entry-level courses, but if Harry was accepted into the writing programme, he would eventually have Severus’ advanced fiction writing course.
“You’re awfully old to be just entering University,” Severus commented quietly.
“I had health issues that prevented me from entering directly after my exams,” Harry explained. His voice was slightly hoarse, deep and interesting.
Why? Why did this man have to be so sodding interesting to Severus. Severus hated everyone, every bit of human company. Why now? Why this… this… thing? He was ugly and thin and completely… odd.
“Hmm,” was all Severus said as he finished reading the two-paged essay. Eventually he looked back up at the younger man and tried hard not to blatantly stare.
Harry gave a slight chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “You can ask me, you know.”
“Sorry?” Severus said with a quirked eyebrow. “Ask you what?” But Severus knew perfectly well what.
“Why I look like this,” Harry said, waving his hand about his body.
“Mr Potter, what exactly makes you think I am remotely interested in why you look as you do?”
“Well I just…” Harry fumbled a bit.
“Mr Potter, all I am concerned with is the fact that you persistently use the word ‘who’ instead of whom, and the fact that you insist on using full stops when the sentence is clearly a question.” Masking his discomfort with irritation… which he was, deeply irritated, Severus used his red ink-pen and marked a few places on Harry’s essay. It was true, the younger man did have a few mistakes. But it was by far the best essay he’d read all summer. Even better than the young Miss Granger who wrote with impeccable grammar but had absolutely no emotion in her paragraphs. Unfortunately she was also one of the best and Severus had to admit her. Just as he knew he had to admit the young man sitting in front of him.
“I’m accepting you into the programme,” Severus said slowly, “but consider yourself lucky. You need a lot of work and I suggest you use the rest of the summer to practise.”
Harry took the essay back once Severus was done marking it and offered a smile. “Thank you, sir. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“No,” Severus sneered, “nor do I care. See you in the future Mr Potter.”
Harry flinched a little… to Severus’ extreme satisfaction… and quickly left Severus’ office without another attempt at a friendly goodbye.
Pushing the image of Harry Potter out of his head, Severus prepared himself for another long day full of incompetent students trying to vie for his approval… and likely wouldn’t get it.
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After that day, Severus Snape promptly forgot that Harry Potter existed. By autumn, Severus was immersed in his classes and didn’t have time to think of much else besides trying to mould his students into decent writers. And that was not an easy task.
Severus Snape didn’t think on the younger man until one year later, the young man was sitting in his class. Severus stalked into the classroom, in a foul mood. He let his eyes rake over the fifteen students seated in the room and his gaze lingered on one who seemed strangely familiar.
He looked typical for those of his generation. Tall, black hair mussed as was the popular look. He was a bit thin, but his arms were muscular and his smile was bright. It was the eyes that caused Severus’ mind to wander back to the meeting with the sickly man called Harry Potter.
The student list confirmed Severus’ suspicion. It was indeed that same man. Severus tried his best not to stare as he paced the front of the room, giving his usual start of term lecture.
When the class finally ended, Severus let out a long, slow breath and sat down behind his desk. It was going to be a long term.
As the year wore on, Severus found himself growing tougher and tougher on Potter. The young man was clearly the best student he had, and would have in a long time. Potter had a true passion for writing, that was clear though the work he turned in. Still, Severus was cruellest to Potter. He marked papers with lower grades than he should have, and belittled him in front of the students daily.
It became a sort of game to Severus, trying to see how long Potter would hold up to the torment. And the young man held up rather well. He snarked back, just as was expected, but he never bothered to try and win the arguments over the marks. He never tried to prove Severus wrong. He merely took it all, and did so with a smile.
Which continued to irritate Severus to the point of insomnia.
By the time Harry was set to leave his class, Severus was ready to tear his hair out. He hadn’t broken Harry at all. In fact, Harry’s writing had improved so drastically that Severus would have suggested Harry try for an editing position or even try to have something published. He would have… if he was able to be kind. Which he didn’t think he was.
It wasn’t exactly a shock when Harry walked into Severus’ office after the last class and approached his desk. “Sir, do you have a moment?”
Severus rolled his eyes and sighed. “I suppose so, but make it quick.”
Harry hesitated and then lowered himself into a chair and clasped his hands atop the desk. “I just… wanted to know why.”
“Why what?”
“Why the class went like that. I’m a good writer. I gave good argument and I paid attention. I’m a good student, and you know it. So why?”
Severus lifted his eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Because I could,” he answered simply. He was lying, but he was convincing.
“But I… but that’s not… fair,” Harry sputtered, leaning forward.
Severus snorted. “What makes you think anything in life is fair?”
“Nothing made me think that,” Harry bit out, his anger showing for the first time. “I know goddamn well life is not fair. I’ve known it since I was a child, neglected and mistreated. I’ve known it since I was ill, sitting on the edge of death, only to be pulled back and meant to live on borrowed time.”
“Borrowed time,” Severus repeated under his breath. “You’re too emotional.”
“Professor…”
“Mr Potter, did you come here to tell me your life’s sob story? Because I really don’t care. I don’t care if your father locked you up in the cupboard and buggered your arse raw. I just don’t care.”
Harry leant back in his chair, his green eyes wide and shocked. He took a deep breath and said very calmly, “I didn’t expect you to care, professor. I merely expected you to give me what I deserve.”
Severus’ face was devoid of any expression as he looked at Harry with his cold, black eyes. Eventually he reached into his desk, pulled out a piece of paper with black markings on it and pushed it across to the other man.
Harry took it, read it and looked up at Severus with a shocked expression. “Full marks?”
“Yes,” Severus ground out. He had erased all of Potter’s previous essays and passed the young man with full marks. The highest grade he had ever given in all of his years teaching.
Harry looked back up at Severus and slowly put the paper into his book bag. “Thank you, sir, that’s all I wanted from you.”
As Harry rose and started for the door, Severus found himself standing up and calling out, “Potter… would you like to join me for tea?”
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The second time Severus Snape heard the term ‘borrowed time’, he laughed. He and Harry had been growing friendlier and friendlier over the summer. Severus was taking the summer months off as a personal holiday and Harry was doing much the same.
The two men found themselves inviting one another over for pleasant company and bantering over the shallowest of things. They didn’t talk much about their personal lives, nor did they talk about what made them the way they were. But the opportunity to do so was always open.
It was mid-July when a few things were revealed to each other, and it was welcome.
The two men were sitting, post dinner, in Severus’ lounge sipping on brandy. They had been in a small debate about the direction the American government was headed, but neither man being very political, found the discussion growing boring rather quickly.
Harry was a bit more inebriated than Severus was and he was inching closer and closer to Severus. “You know, even though this is borrowed time for me, I’m enjoying myself.”
A small smile crept onto Severus’ face. Then a small chuckle escaped and he paused, looking slightly horrified.
Harry giggled a little and shook his head. “I’ve never heard you laugh.”
Severus rolled his eyes. “Now I suppose I’ll have to kill you. What would happen to my reputation if the rest of the student body found out I had a sense of humour?”
“Funny you laugh at something that’s not meant to be funny… but every time I crack a joke…”
“Well if your jokes were actually amusing, I might have laughed,” Severus snapped back. Then he paused before saying, “What do you mean wasn’t meant to be funny?”
“The borrowed time comment,” Harry explained with a wave of his hand. “I was being serious.”
Severus sighed, leant back against the arm of the sofa and looked at Harry. “Fine. Explain, I know you’ve been dying to since the moment you met me.” Severus suppressed a smile at the thought, ‘Not to mention I’ve been dying to know.’
Harry shrugged his shoulders, sipped his brandy and then explained. “I had a brain tumour. It was large, lodged inside my cerebral cortex. It was malignant, meaning cancerous…”
“I’m well aware of the term malignant,” Severus snapped, though the malice was all-but gone from the words.
“Anyhow, the doctors were convinced that I was going to die. The tumour was inoperable and it was growing quickly. I bargained with the universe. I just wanted enough time to get my education and then I could go. Three weeks later, the tumour was gone.”
Severus sat there in a quiet shock for a moment. His rational mind reasoned that it wasn’t possible. “Were you on any kind of treatments?”
“Loads of them. Chemotherapy, radiation, all that rubbish. You saw how I looked, no hair, thin as a pole.”
“You were rather grotesque,” Severus muttered.
“Thanks, you sure know how to make a man feel good about himself.”
“That was never my job,” Severus replied easily. “And anyhow, clearly your treatments worked and that’s what got rid of the cancer.”
“Severus… tumours don’t just disappear like that. Not in three weeks, not with treatments that hadn’t worked for months on end. I just borrowed a bit of time from the universe and soon I’m going to have to give it back.”
Severus knew it would be useless to argue with the man, so he didn’t. The two sat in a comfortable silence and drank the rest of their brandy.
Eventually, Harry stretched and stood, wobbling a bit on his feet. “Oh… my…” he said and fell back against the sofa, his shoulder brushing up against Severus’. “I think I’m a bit… pissed.”
“I’d say so,” Severus said, feeling much the same. He peered at the clock with one eye closed. “It’s nearly midnight. Might as well kip here on the sofa.”
“Both of us?” Harry giggled.
“Don’t be absurd,” Severus said with a sloppy wave of his hand. Severus found the idea tempting, but he had no idea of Harry’s sexual preferences. Besides, what would a man like Harry want in a snarky, old, slightly ugly man like Severus?
Harry seemed to sense Severus’ thoughts and fixed him with a heated gaze. “I wouldn’t be adverse to the idea.”
Severus knew Harry was drunk enough to say the words, but not too drunk to not mean them. “What exactly, Mr Potter, are you suggesting?”
“Just what I want,” Harry explained in a quiet voice. “I mean, clearly I’m as pouf as you can get.”
That came as a slight shock to Severus. “Are you?” was all he managed.
Harry laughed. “Couldn’t you tell?”
“The idea hadn’t occurred to me,” he confessed.
“Does it bother you? I don’t’ mean to chat you up or anything… I mean… I hadn’t thought if it was offensive to you…”
Severus put his hand over Harry’s mouth to stop the flow of words. “I am.”
Harry’s eyes widened and he gently closed his fingers round Severus’ wrist. “So you… aren’t bothered by my…”
“No,” Severus said and licked his lips.
Harry swallowed thickly, and before Severus had time to react, comment or move away, Harry leant forward and captured the older man in a sloppy, drunken kiss. Both mouths were slightly soured with alcohol and left over dinner, but the feeling racing to their groins was enough to eclipse it.
With fumbling gestures, both men wrapped round one another and without thinking, moved to Severus’ bed. The sex was clumsy, slightly painful at times. It wasn’t easy, it was difficult and hesitant most of the time but eventually they achieved the desired climax and fell into an exhausted slumber, not waking until the morning.
When Severus woke the next morning, a beam of sunlight piercing his gaze and causing his head to ache worse, he rolled over and found himself with a face full of dark hair. He frowned, felt both confused and slightly panicked until his eyes focused and he was able to make out the sleeping face of Harry Potter.
Severus suppressed a groan. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep with the younger man, but he knew once Harry woke, he’d be kicking his own arse for sleeping with his old, ugly professor. Ex-professor. Whatever, it was still going to be a mistake.
Severus continued to lie there, unsure how to move without waking the younger man when green eyes blinked open and Harry’s mouth curved into a slight smile.
“You look frightened,” Harry mumbled sleepily. “Was I that bad?”
Severus swallowed thickly. “I just… didn’t know if you’d remember…”
“What? Remember how kind you were, how well you kissed? Your cock in my arse?” Harry chuckled and reached out to palm Severus’ cheek. “I remember.”
“And you don’t…” Severus chanced.
“Mind? Severus, I’ve wanted you since the moment I walked into your class. What we shared last night is a good thing. I hope you don’t regret it, but if you do, I can leave and we won’t speak of it again.”
Severus tightened his jaw and reached out to clasp Harry’s hand almost roughly. “It’s fine. It’s… it’s fine. I… thank you.” Severus hated himself for being so utterly inarticulate, but he couldn’t help it. For once, the green-eyed man left him speechless.
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The third time Severus Snape heard the term ‘borrowed time’, he was shocked into silence. He and Harry had been a couple for three years. Severus continued teaching, Harry continued studying. The young man eventually acquired his degree in Literature and was satisfied with it.
When Severus encouraged Harry to continue on, the young man merely smiled, shook his head and kissed Severus gently. Severus didn’t argue with his lover, and merely let the subject drop.
Later that night, Severus returned to their shared flat and found Harry waiting for him next to the table laden with food. Every one of Severus’ favourite dishes was laid out, freshly cooked and still warm.
With a smile, the two lovers sat down to enjoy the meal, both eating until they could burst. Bypassing the pudding, Harry led Severus into the bedroom and pushed him atop the duvet, straddling the older man’s waist.
“I love you,” Harry whispered.
They never said those three words. The feelings were mutual and very implied in their day-to-day gestures, but the words had been carefully avoided over the years.
So, when Harry whispered the words, Severus was taken aback and sat up, careful not to jar his lover. “What’s happened?”
Harry sighed. “I just need you to know how much I love you,” Harry said and proceeded to try and kiss Severus quiet.
But it didn’t work. Severus pushed Harry back and looked deeply into the wide, green eyes. “Harry…”
Harry shook his head. “Please… don’t.”
“I love you too,” Severus whispered back.
Harry pressed his forehead against Severus’ and then gently brought their mouths together. Murmuring against Severus’ pliant lips, he said, “Let me love you.”
Severus could not deny such a request. Leaning back, he allowed Harry control over his body, enjoying every moment of it. When it was over, both men fell into a sated, deep sleep, arms wound tightly round one another. Severus had one thought before he drifted off. ‘Let this be my eternity.’
The next morning, Severus woke in the bed alone. He didn’t think Harry had anywhere to be, so he sat up, feeling a bit confused. His eyes fell on a breakfast tray that was laden with toast, fresh fruit, his favourite coffee and Harry’s small tape-recorder he had used in his classes. A small note was atop the recorder and Severus smiled gently as he retrieved the paper.
Severus,
Eat your breakfast and then listen to the message. No matter what, I will always love you.
Yours,
Harry
Severus frowned at the strange note but his stomach was persistent enough to make him enjoy the small meal first. Once the contents of the tray had been consumed, Severus picked up the recorder and pushed play.
“Hey Severus. Right now you’re sleeping fairly contently, though your brow is furrowed slightly and it’s just so cute. You know I’d never say that to your face, for fear I may lose my life well before I was meant to. But all the same, so cute. Last night was wonderful. I can’t imagine another way to spend my life, but unfortunately that’s what this is about. I’m leaving. In fact, I’ve already gone. I’ve taken what I could without waking you, and I doubt you’ll have time to catch up to me. Not that you would try, I know you better than that.
“I wish there could have been a better way to do this, but I know you well enough to know a peaceful separation wasn’t possible. I’m sorry all I can say is that I love you and wish this wasn’t the way it had to be. I didn’t expect to find love. It’s sort of a sick joke, really, loving you as much as I do and living on borrowed time. I’m sorry…. (long pause) Goodbye Severus.”
In a sort of daze, Severus switched off the recorder and sat back against the headboard. He stared down at his empty plate… the plate of food Harry had left for him. Severus looked over at the wardrobe and found the door halfway open, Harry’s clothing all missing. Severus’ eyes trailed to the floor in front of the bed, which was now devoid of Harry’s shoes, rucksack and odds and ends that he had littered about the room.
The only real things left of the younger man’s were his book collection, his stack of papers he’d written and his photos of him and Severus.
All Severus could feel was a tightening pain in the centre of his chest. Taking deep breaths didn’t help any. He felt as though he would eventually and slowly suffocate from the loss of his lover. And he had no idea what to do about it.
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That night found Severus Snape getting quite drunk in the parlour of his old friend, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was an old family friend of the Snapes’. He was years older than Severus, but had been the closest to Severus’ age and the years of family gatherings had brought the two men closer together.
Lucius was a ruthless man by nature. He had more connections than any man should have and possessed a lust for all things cruel and dishonest, which his connections helped him cater to. Still, Severus found Lucius’ advice sound, being that Lucius was actually a very clever person and rationalised situations well… when he wanted to.
Severus phoned Lucius as soon as he had been able to pull himself from his bed and merely said, “I need to forget. He’s left me and I need to forget.”
Lucius was more than happy to accommodate his old friend’s needs and provided the quiet parlour and the bottle of scotch.
So now, Severus sat on the sofa, scotch in hand, three previous glasses-worth working their way through his blood stream.
“And borrowed time,” Severus slurred. “What does that even mean? Borrowed time. What’s he been on about all these years?”
Lucius sighed and looked at Severus carefully. He’d let the dark-haired man natter on about Harry’s sudden disappearance for the better part of three hours. He had news for Severus but was waiting for the other man to be properly pissed before he told him.
“Severus, I think you’re ready to hear this now,” Lucius said slowly.
“Hear what?” Severus asked, sloshing his scotch about.
Lucius sighed. “When you phoned me, I contacted a few people. Rumour has it Remus Lupin has returned to Britain.”
“Who?” Severus asked with a frown.
“Remus Lupin,” Lucius said with a sigh. “World renowned cancer researcher.”
“Mmmm, no idea,” Severus said with a shrug.
Lucius shook his head and sighed again. “Well… rumour also has it, Remus Lupin got into the researching business when his lover died of cancer.”
“His lover? Male?”
“Yes. A Mr Sirius Black. And Mr Sirius Black is rumoured to have been best friends with a Mr James Potter… father of one Harry James Potter.”
Severus blinked, his expression sobering slightly. “Sorry?”
“Remus Lupin is a close family friend of Harry’s,” Lucius explained patiently.
“So what?” Severus demanded. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“For someone who was in love with a cancer survivor for three years, you’re disturbingly thick,” Lucius drawled. “Clearly, all the signs point to the fact that Harry’s cancer has returned and Remus has returned from France to treat Harry.”
“Harry… cancer…” Severus muttered. “Oh. Blast it.”
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When Severus woke, he found himself lying on Lucius’ sofa, his head pounding fiercely. There was a tray with coffee and a note that read;
This is Lupin’s contact number. It’s worth a try… if your boy-toy is worth the try. I’ll not be back for a few days, stay if you wish, or go. I will phone you later.
Lucius
Severus stared down at the digits scratched out on the paper and sighed. It was either contact this man or live out the rest of his life not knowing what happened to the only man he’d ever allowed himself to love.
Severus knew the choice he was going to make.
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“Mr Lupin… my name is Severus Snape. I…”
“I’m well aware of who you are,” the French accented voice said surprisingly politely. “Mr Potter told me you may find me, I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.”
“I have my contacts,” Severus said.
“So you do,” Lupin answered with a chuckle. “I suppose you want to know what is happening with Harry?”
Severus bit back a wave of hurt and willed himself to be emotionless and calm. “I’m just curious as to why he felt the need to leave this way. Did he expect me not to understand?”
“Yes,” Remus said plainly, “he did. And truth be told, I don’t see how you possibly could understand unless you’ve been through this with someone close to you before.”
“I haven’t,” Severus confessed, “but I don’t see how bad it could be, me being there for my lover as he fights this cancer.”
Remus paused and a small sigh could be heard. “Harry is not fighting this cancer. It’s rapidly spreading and there isn’t much time left. Weeks, perhaps.”
Severus let the slow shock of that hit him. “How long has he known?”
“For about a week now,” Remus answered easily. “I think he’s always known it was going to return. I’m merely here to act as a mediator between him and the rest of the world as he lets go. There’s nothing I can do, no matter how much I wish to prolong his life.”
“So that’s it then?” Severus snapped, letting his anger take over. Anger was far easier to handle than the pain of loss he was also feeling deep inside of him. “So a doctor who’s given his life to research and fight cancer is just letting this…” Severus had to pause to keep himself composed, “… this man, this young man, die. You’re going to just let him go… just like this?”
“There isn’t anything I can do for him.”
“THERE HAS TO BE!” Severus shouted and then took a deep breath. “There are so many… many new things. New treatments, new technology!”
“There are,” Remus continued, still calm, “but sometimes even the best of treatments can’t save. Harry’s too far gone, Severus.”
“I want to see him,” Severus finally ground out. “Where is he?”
“His final wishes are to be left alone. You must respect that and so must I.”
“No I bloody will not!” Severus hissed. “I love him, he’s the only one I’ve loved and I’m not going to let him go like this!”
“There isn’t anything you can do,” Remus protested.
“I can say goodbye. Does he not realise that maybe I need that?” Severus allowed the pain to seep into his voice just for a minute, causing the words to whisper out. “Maybe I need him… just to say goodbye.”
Remus paused and let out a shallow breath. “The thing with people who are dying, Severus, is that they aren’t themselves. Their mind is… is not all there. Sometimes they say things, awful things, that they don’t mean but can’t take back. Harry doesn’t want you to see him like that.”
“I don’t care if he tells me I was the worst thing that happened to him,” Severus insisted. “I just want to say my goodbye.”
“I’ll ask, but I can’t make any promises,” Remus said. “I’ll phone you back once I’ve had the chance to speak with Harry and let you know what he says.”
“Okay,” Severus said with a resigned sigh. It was all he could do. He knew he couldn’t force Lupin’s hand any more than that, so he rang off and waited impatiently.
Three weeks passed before Severus was to hear from Remus again. “What did he say?” Severus demanded straight away.
“He’s feeling somewhat better at this moment,” Remus said, “so he’s allowing the visit. I’ll give you the address but I can’t promise the visit will last long.”
“It’s enough,” Severus said, and realised he was speaking the truth.
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The fourth time Severus heard the term ‘borrowed time’, he cried. He was allowed just twenty minutes with his tired lover, and in those twenty minutes, Harry mostly slept.
He looked exhausted. He’d dropped a frightening amount of weight in such a short time and he looked ready for death. Other than looking ill, he was still the same Harry to Severus. Still the same head of messy black locks, still the same slightly crooked nose, dimpled cheek and… when they were open… bright green eyes.
His smile was the same, and Harry did smile brightly when he was finally able to look at Severus. “Didn’t think you’d actually find me,” Harry croaked, his voice hoarse and weak.
Severus snorted lightly and knelt beside Harry’s bed. “You honestly didn’t think I’d search the ends of the earth?”
“You once told me you just didn’t care,” Harry pointed out.
Severus chuckled, which was easier than crying, though that was what he really wanted to do. “Some things don’t interest me, Potter, you know that.”
“But your ugly, dying lover does?”
Severus’ face contorted with pain and he gently ran the back of his hand down Harry’s paper-thin cheek. “Never ugly, Harry. Never. You are always beautiful to me.”
“Even when I’m a rotting corpse in the ground.”
Severus swallowed against the lump in his throat and managed a slight smile. “Even then, cheeky brat.”
Harry smiled again and lifted a weak hand to Severus’ head, pulling the man in for a short kiss. “I’m glad you found me.”
“I knew you would be,” Severus murmured against Harry’s dry lips.
“I don’t want you to stay. I don’t want you to see me later. I’ve been okay today, but I’m already going.”
Severus felt a tear slip down his cheek and he brushed it away with an impatient hand. “Harry please… I…”
Harry shook his head. “Would you want me to see you this way?”
Severus shut his mouth, knowing the answer.
“This is going to have to be enough,” Harry continued. “Please.”
Not able to deny his lover anything, Severus closed his eyes and kissed Harry once more. “If you wish.”
Harry let out a shuddering sigh. “I never meant to love you this hard… and I never meant to have anyone love me back.”
“But I do,” Severus answered quietly.
“I know,” Harry said softly. “If only I had something other than this borrowed time.”
Severus didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all. He allowed his silent, bitter tears to fall and closed his eyes when Harry’s gentle hand brushed them away.
“Just don’t remember me like this.”
Severus captured Harry’s hand and pressed a kiss to the dying man’s palm. “I have no choice, but I have three years worth of other memories to keep with me as well. I’ll miss you, Harry.”
Harry chanced a very small smile and his eyes slipped closed. “I’ll miss you… dunno how I’m going to find peace without you…” Harry trailed off and slipped into a light sleep.
Eventually Severus pulled away from the younger man, pressed a kiss to Harry’s furrowed brow and without looking back, slipped out of the room.
Remus was sitting in the lounge, sipping on coffee and he rose when Severus entered the room. “Is he asleep?”
Severus nodded and paused to wipe away his tears and compose himself. “Thank you,” he finally managed.
Remus shrugged. “I don’t think he could have gone without your goodbye either. He really does love you.”
“I know,” Severus said. With a nod of farewell, Severus walked out of the house, knowing it was the last time he would ever feel that kind of love. But he’d had it once, and that once would have to be enough.