SNARRY-A-THON10: FIC: Finding the Way Home Title: Finding the Way Home Author:alisanne Rating: NC-17 Word count: +/- 6,700 Warning(s): (highlight for spoilers) *Drunken Harry.* Prompt: 342: Harry was used to the Floo spitting him out hither and thither, but was still surprised to find himself on his arse in this strange place. Where the hell was he? Summary: The Floo system is supposed to be foolproof, but we all know that odd things happen when Harry Potter is involved. A/N: Thank you to my beta-readers, the Thon mods, and to the originator of this great prompt. Let’s welcome back the Snarry!
Finding the Way Home
The pub was packed, as it generally was on Friday nights. Harry wasn’t usually a frequenter of pubs, but it beat moping about Grimmauld Place after a hard week of Auror training, so he’d allowed Ron and Hermione to drag him along this time.
He was on his third ale, and, no surprise, Ron was beating him. “You’re a lightweight, mate,” he slurred, leaning heavily on Hermione. “With a bit more practice though, I bet you’d be able to drink me under the table.”
“I’m not sure that should be Harry’s goal,” Hermione chimed in, clearly disapproving. “Some of us really are just social drinkers, Ronald.”
“’M bein’ social!” Ron protested, promptly sliding off his stool and onto the floor.
Hermione rolled her eyes, making no move to help him. “So how was your week?” she asked Harry, sipping her white wine.
Harry shrugged. “Auror training’s brutal, as they warned us. I’m done with wilderness combat, though, so things should get easier. And I get my weekends back.”
“Good.” She smiled. “So maybe you can start dating again?”
One-track mind. “Hermione--”
She leaned forward. “Just because you have a crush on--” she paused, looking around and whispering the rest, “--someone, doesn’t mean you can’t date other people. Plus, he hasn’t made himself exactly accessible at the moment, has he?”
“Who’s not accessi-accessa-thingy?” Ron mumbled, having dragged himself back onto his stool and retrieved his ale.
“Who has Harry been obsessed with since sixth year?” Hermione snapped.
Ron frowned. “No one really, unless you mean...” His eyes widened. “Oh God! Not Sna--the Half-Blood Prince!”
“Yes, well, unless we want everyone else to know about Harry’s crush, perhaps this isn’t the place to talk about it,” Hermione hissed.
Blinking, Ron picked up his mug and downed his ale. “Oi, I thought he was over that.”
“He’s right here,” Harry interjected tetchily. “And yeah, I liked the Prince, but the real man is just so much more...” he sighed. “Now that the war’s over, I just wanted to see if there could be anything between us. Is that so wrong?”
“Mate, the thought of you and your crush with anything but lots of space between you seems wrong to me,” he mumbled. “But it’s your life. I need another drink.”
“Ronald! That’s rude!” Hermione smacked his arm. “And will you stop drinking? Harry’s having an existential crisis here!”
“Ow! Why’d you do that?” Ron winced, rubbing at his arm. “And he’s having a what?” A moment later a full goblet appeared in front of him and he grinned. “I love this pub. The elves here’re great.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Just ignore him, Harry, he’s being a prat.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about it, Ron,” Harry said. “My ‘crush’ has literally disappeared. Poof! Gone. All the owls I’ve sent have been returned, even my Patronus can’t find him. So it’s not like you’ll ever stumble across us, say, snogging in the living room at Grimmauld, is it?”
Ron had the grace to blush. “Oi, that was Lav’s idea,” he protested. “She thought it’d be fun to try someplace new--”
“Whatever.” Hermione held up a hand. “Next time stick to your own flat, though, all right?”
“Yeah.” Ron blushed, then frowned. “Wait, so you haven’t seen Sna-- your crush since you testified for him at his trial? Mate, that’s not on.”
“What do you care?” Harry asked. “You don’t like him, remember?”
Ron shrugged. “No, but you do, so I have to be angry if he messes with you, yeah? You’re still my best mate.”
Ron slapped Harry on the back and they grinned at each other. Hermione shook her head. “Honestly! Boys.”
“Right, I know what you need, Harry.” Ron banged the table. “Another drink! Lots more drinks!”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, why not? I don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow, after all--”
Despite Hermione’s obvious disapproval, Harry and Ron proceeded to get absolutely blasted, so much so that about an hour later, neither of them were particularly coherent.
“Right, that’s it,” Hermione finally said. “You two are going home. Come on, I’ll get you to the Floo. There’s no way you won’t Splinch yourselves otherwise.”
“I c’n App’rate,” Ron was mumbling, even as he slid back onto the floor again.
Grumbling under her breath, Hermione retrieved Ron’s wand from his robes. “I have your wand, so you stay there!” she snapped at him as he tried to get up. “Come on, Harry.”
Harry swallowed bile as she dragged him through the crowd and towards the Floo. The thought of returning to his big, empty house was not appealing. “Jus’ one m’re dr’nk?”
“No, you need to go home,” Hermione said firmly, somehow hearing and understanding him above the din of the other pub goers. “Get some rest. I’ll pop by tomorrow and we’ll formulate a plan to find Sn-- your crush.”
“Home?” Harry sighed as she manoeuvred him into the fireplace. “Wazzat sayin’?”
“What saying?” Hermione poured some Floo powder into his hand.
The room was still spinning, so Harry closed his eyes and fought to clear his head. “Home’s where the heart is,” he finally whispered, opening his hand reflexively.
“Harry!”
Green flames shot up and Harry was suddenly travelling somewhere. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea-- was all he could think before he was thrown with a thump out of the Floo and onto an unfamiliar hearth, landing flat on his face.
“Owww,” he groaned. Raising his head after a moment, Harry looked around, taking in masculine furnishings and standing shelves covered with rows upon rows of books. A snifter of what looked like brandy was resting on a table next to a comfortable-looking leather armchair, with an open book lying in the seat.
Footsteps approached rapidly. “What on earth... Potter?”
Harry gulped as slipper-clad feet approached. “S’rry,” he slurred. “M’ mist’ke.” His eyes widened as they travelled up long legs and a white-shirted torso to see... “Snape?”
“How did you find me?” Snape demanded.
Opening his mouth to reply, nausea overwhelmed him and Harry promptly threw up on Snape’s feet. The room was spinning, and as darkness rose up to meet him, Harry heard Snape say, “Potter, you moron! Of all the people to land in my house it would have to be you, wouldn’t it?”
Even as he blacked out, Harry smiled.
*****
A crash woke Harry and he groaned. Why did it feel as if there were Erumpents playing Exploding Snap in his head? He opened his eyes, snapping them shut again when the light stabbed at him. “Ugh.”
“Ah,” said a deep voice. “The sleeper awakes.”
Suddenly fully alert, well, as close to alert as was possible given the cacophony in his head, Harry cracked one eye open to stare up at-- “Snape?” He tried to sit up and almost fell off the narrow sofa upon which he’d apparently been sleeping. “Oh my God, where am I?”
“My home.” Snape narrowed his eyes. “And I have thus far been unable to ascertain how you got here.”
“I don’t remember--” Harry winced as the pounding in his head got worse. Apparently the Erumpents were now playing Extreme Quidditch. “Do you have any Hangover Potion?”
Snape glared at him for a long moment before reaching into his robes and handing Harry a phial. “I had meant to use this as leverage to get you to tell me exactly how you found me,” he snapped. “But it’s clear you shan’t be coherent without it.”
Harry downed it immediately, closing his eyes for a moment as the liquid spread through him and his head cleared. “Thanks,” he breathed, finally opening his eyes. He breathed easier when they didn’t hurt.
“Now, back to the question of the day,” Snape said. “How exactly did you find me?”
“Not really sure,” Harry admitted, sitting up. He frowned. “I remember being out with Ron and Hermione, we were at a pub--”
Snape rolled his eyes. “Yes, I could smell that much.”
Harry blushed. “Well I got a bit tipsy--” Snape snorted, “--and I think Hermione made me Floo.”
“Sensible, you’d have Splinched yourself otherwise. Get to the details. How did the Floo spit you out on my hearth?”
“Details. Right.” Harry licked his lips. “She put me in the Floo, handed me powder, and...” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I called out home and ended up here somehow.”
“You said home and it brought you to me?” Snape repeated. “Impossible.”
“That’s pretty much what happened, yeah, so I guess it’s not impossible.” Harry cleared his throat. “Look, I hate to ask, but I’m a bit thirsty--”
“I suppose if I’m going to get anything more out of you I shall have to provide refreshments.” Snape raised his hand and a tray with a teapot, two cups, several slices of toast and a pot of jam floated in.
“Wow, this is...” Harry smiled. “Thanks.”
Silently, Snape settled the tray on a table before helping himself to tea. “I imagined I would have to provide breakfast, especially with the shape you arrived in last night,” he muttered.
“It’s morning? I slept here all night?” Harry cried. I spent the night at Snape’s and I don’t remember anything? Bloody hell.
“Indeed. I considered calling one of your sidekicks to collect you,” Snape said dryly. “But that would have given away my location, not something I am eager to do.”
Harry blinked. “Why are you hiding, anyway? I’ve been looking for you ever since the Wizengamot hearing,” he said, chewing his toast. “You were pardoned, you know.”
Snape glared at him. “I’m well aware of that. And I am not hiding, I just prefer privacy. I’ve adjusted my wards to keep owls out.” He smirked. “And Patronuses.”
“But why?” Harry took one last sip of tea. “I just wanted to thank you for--”
“Yes, yes.” Snape held up a hand. “This is just what I wished to avoid.” He huffed. “You have your life to lead, Potter. I am your past. Now that the Dark Lord is gone, you can move on. There is no need for any expressions of gratitude.”
“I thought we could be...friends.” Harry almost laughed at the gobsmacked look that crossed Snape’s face.
“That is highly unlikely.” Snape narrowed his eyes.
Harry tried again. “Plus, I owe you my life--”
“I owed your mother. And Albus.” Snape looked away. “Those debts are now repaid.”
“But--”
“I simply don’t want people knowing where I live, Potter!” Snape growled. “Let’s leave it at that.”
This probably isn’t the time to tell Snape how I feel about him. Harry nodded slowly. “Right. Sure.”
Snape inclined his head. “Now, once you have finished your breakfast, I would appreciate it if you’d leave. And I suppose I shall have to find a way to adjust my Floo to avoid any further incursions.”
Harry bit his lip, casting about for a way to stall for time. “All right, but before I go, do you have a loo?” he asked. “Sorry, but with all the tea, I have to--”
“Yes, yes, I’m aware of what they’re used for.” Snape pointed to the hallway. “That way, third door on the left.”
“Thanks.” Harry rose and hurried down the hall, finding the bathroom easily. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the door for a moment, shaking his head. Stubborn git... There was no way he was giving Snape up now that he’d found him. Harry could hear Hermione’s voice in his head urging caution. He grinned. Like that had ever worked.
Looking around, he eyed the bathroom cabinet, the ghost of a plan forming in his mind. They had just done wilderness tracking and a large part of the course had been casting charms to allow the Auror to return to a specific location.
Harry cast the spell, then used the toilet, washing up afterwards. Grinning at his image in the mirror, he whispered, “I’ll be back,” before walking out.
“There’s still the matter of the life debt between us,” Harry said as he re-entered the living area.
Snape’s face went still. “It is your contention that I owe you a life debt because of what happened in the Shrieking Shack?”
Harry blinked. “What? No, not that. I just meant--” He sighed. “Look, you spent years saving me through school. And even when I wasn’t there, when you were headmaster, you protected me, so I owe you--”
“You owe me nothing but to respect my wishes for privacy,” Snape said, cutting him off and standing up. “Are you ready to leave?”
Moving towards the Floo, Harry nodded. “I guess.”
Snape handed him a jar of Floo powder, watching carefully as Harry took a fistful. “Goodbye, Potter.”
“Bye, Snape.” Harry hesitated. “Um, so if I want to see you again, may I--”
“I suppose if you find your way back here we can speak again.” The way Snape was smirking, Harry knew he was counting on Harry never finding his way back. “Now good day.”
“Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!” Harry cried, throwing his powder. He was immediately whisked away, landing moments later in his own Floo.
“Harry! There you are! I came over when I checked with Kreacher and he said you didn’t make it home. Where have you been?”
Stumbling out of the fireplace, Harry saw Hermione jump to her feet and hurry towards him. He shook his head. “I’m not sure you’ll believe me,” he said.
Hermione sighed. “Oh dear. Why do I think I’m not going to like this?”
Grinning, Harry gestured for her to sit and called for Kreacher to bring tea. They would need it.
*****
He was being carried, cherished, cared for. He was settled gently onto a warm, soft surface, then someone was tucking a blanket around him. Smiling, Harry snuggled deeper beneath the covers and sighed.
“However did you find me?” his protector whispered while smoothing some hair off his forehead. “Obstinate brat.”
Harry woke with a start, blinking up into the darkness of his pre-dawn bedroom. Oh my God, I don’t think that was a dream. I think Snape actually took care of me that night.
He shook his head. It had been a week since he’d first stumbled, drunk, into Snape’s home, and despite all his efforts, Harry hadn’t been able to make it back. His Tracing Charm seemed to have disappeared, and even Hermione, after hearing how he’d somehow ended up at Snape’s, seemed clueless as to how he could return.
It doesn’t matter that he was actually pleasant while I was asleep since I can’t get back. With a groan, Harry got up. He had more Auror training, and then Luna was throwing a party that night that Hermione was insisting he attend.
He continued thinking about Snape all day, however. In the light of day, it seemed unlikely that Snape had actually cradled him in his arms, yet Harry couldn’t help but hope it’d really happened.
That evening, Harry again tried to get out of attending the party, but Hermione had simply rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, Side-Along-Apparating them to Luna’s door and shoving him inside. “Have fun,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry muttered, mock saluting, grinning as she stuck her tongue out at him.
“So I guess you haven’t found him yet?” was Ron’s first question when he saw them.
Harry shook his head, accepting an ale from a passing house-elf. “Nope,” he said, tone glum. “I still can’t locate that Tracing Spell I left at his place. It’s bloody irritating.”
“But at least you know he’s still around and hasn’t gone and disappeared into the Muggle world,” Ron said. “That would make it really hard to find him.”
Ron shrugged. “Yeah, but you know what that means, right? You two can help me drown my sorrows.” He took a long sip of his ale. “Ah, I feel better already.”
“Is that all you think about?” Hermione snapped. “And don’t assume I’m taking care of you this time.”
Despite himself, Harry laughed. “Nutter.” He raised his glass. “All right, so here’s to us all finding what we seek.”
“Here’s to finding love,” Hermione clarified, clinking her glass with his.
Harry blushed, avoided her eyes, and drank. By unspoken agreement, they chatted about causal topics: the new products Ron and George were working on for WWW, Hermione’s law finals that were coming up, Harry’s latest Auror course.
After a few hours, Harry, like the previous week, found himself drunk and unsafe to Apparate. “’Mione,” Harry muttered. “’M goin’ home.”
Hermione, who was a bit more tipsy than she had been the week before, smiled and patted his shoulder. “Night, H’rry.”
He nodded and it took him three tries to stand. One of the house-elves, apparently used to drunk guests, guided him over to the Floo. “Where is Harry Potter going?” it asked, offering the jar of Floo powder.
“Wish I’s going home to Snape’s,” he sighed, almost tripping as he stepped in.
The elf must have assumed that was his destination since it threw the powder in just as he spoke. Harry gasped as green flame flared around him and he was whisked away. He closed his eyes, fighting down nausea.
When he landed, he kept his eyes shut, trying to catch his breath. When he heard someone approaching, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh for-- Not again!” Snape grumbled.
Harry finally looked up and into Snape’s frowning face. “Hey,” he said, grinning. “Tol’ you I’d b’back.”
Snape shook his head. “Good God, Potter. Am I going to have to move to get away from you?”
Harry’s eyes widened as a wave of nausea hit him. “I’m gonna throw--”
“Oh no you don’t.” Snape held his hand up, deftly snatching a Summoned phial out of the air. “Take this. And are we going to have to discuss your drinking habits, Potter?”
Harry eyed the two potions phials he could see, wondering which one was really there.
“It’s Anti-Nausea Tonic, not poison,” Snape growled.
“‘S’not that,” Harry slurred, reaching for it and missing. “There’s two ’f them.”
Snape pursed his lips. “Ah.” With surprisingly gentle fingers, he cupped Harry’s chin. “Open your mouth.” When Harry did, Snape poured the tonic down.
The nausea cleared immediately, although Harry was still drunk. And on the floor. He grinned up at Snape. “I foun’ you again.”
“Indeed.” Snape’s eyes glittered. “You have an uncanny way of doing that.”
“Yeah. Must be fate.” Harry smiled. “So where d’you live anyway? Should jus’ tell me cuz I keep findin’ you.”
“That you do.” Snape sat back on his haunches. “How do you do that?”
“Guess I jus’ want to. Maybe someone knows I like you.” Harry yawned. “Should get up,” he mumbled. Something triggered his memory and he narrowed his eyes. “Oi, you carried me b’fore!”
“You remember that?” Snape stood up, crossing his arms. “I did, but you needed it,” he muttered, sounding defensive.
“I liked it.” Harry closed his eyes, a smile spreading across his face. “Was nice.”
“Was it?” A strange note was in Snape’s voice.
Harry sighed as he was lifted and carried into the room. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Brill’ant, really.”
“You are a menace, Potter.” Snape’s voice rumbled pleasantly through his chest and into Harry's ear.
A moment later as Harry was settled gently back onto Snape’s sofa, he whispered, “Wish this was your bed, though...”
There was stunned silence and then... “Foolishness,” Snape said. “You need a Sobering Potion. Stay here.”
As if you could pry me off this sofa? A hand cupped Harry’s jaw, making him smile. “Mmmkay.” Sensing that Snape had moved away, he listened to him bustling about the place, the sounds of domesticity lulling him to sleep.
*****
In his dream he was wrapped in a cocoon of fluff, supported on a cloud, his lover murmuring in his ear. Harry smiled.
“Potter.”
Harry frowned. Why was his lover not calling him by his first name?
“Wake up.”
“Mmm,” Harry murmured. “Don’t wanna. Comfy.” He snuggled deeper under the covers and kept his eyes closed.
“And yet you must.” The covers were yanked off and Harry yelped as cool air struck his sleep-warm body. “Up, Potter.”
Harry cracked one eye open and winced. “Bright,” he complained.
“Indeed. Well spotted.” Snape was leaning over him and for a moment, Harry contemplated pulling him down onto the sofa with him. “It is morning, after all.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Harry whispered, licking his lips. When Snape’s gaze dipped to his mouth and lingered there, Harry almost smiled in triumph. Not so immune to me after all! “Thanks for letting me stay,” he said. “Again.”
Snape cleared his throat. “I could hardly throw you out,” he said, tone gruff. “You were incapacitated.”
“I was a little tipsy,” Harry admitted. “But I knew what I was saying.” He sat up, his face moving close to Snape’s.
To Harry’s chagrin, Snape moved back to allow him some space. “I made tea,” he said, ignoring Harry’s previous statement. “I’ll just go and...retrieve it.”
Harry watched Snape’s retreat, his mind whirling. He groaned, his bladder suddenly reminding him of its presence and, staggering to his feet, he started for the bathroom. “Just nipping into the toilet,” he called out.
Closing the door, he did his business and then, recalling his Tracing Spell, checked for it. Oddly, it was still there. Why can’t I find this place unless I’m Flooing drunk, then? Puzzled, Harry reinforced it before leaving.
Breakfast was a bit more substantial than the last time, evidently Snape had decided that Harry could handle a real meal, so Harry ate toast, eggs, beans and sausage, and he washed it down with copious amounts of tea.
“That was brilliant,” Harry finally sighed, replete.
“I am so glad it met with your approval.” Snape was still sipping his own tea as he spoke. “Perhaps I should open a restaurant as you do seem to nip in for convenient meals.”
Harry laughed. “Don’t you think it’d be easier if you just told me where this is so I don’t have to keep stumbling in here drunk?” he said.
Snape raised an eyebrow. “Easier for whom?”
“Well, for me.” Harry chuckled. “I promise I won’t tell the Prophet and that way, I won’t have to get drunk to get here.” He paused. “And your shoes would be safer.”
“Quite the offer.” Snape shook his head. “I’m afraid I shall have to refuse, however. I think I know how you’re getting here. It’s a misfiring of the Floo Network and the only way to fix it is to disconnect my Floo.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “You’d cut yourself off from the world just to avoid me?” He sighed. “Am I that bad?”
“It’s not--” Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are embarking on the rest of your life, Potter. You hardly need to be hanging about with an ex-Death Eater who is twenty years your senior. Go and live your life.”
“And if I want you to be a part of that life?” Harry asked, leaning forward. “What then?”
“Then I shall have to save you from yourself just as I saved you from peril as a child,” Snape said, setting down his teacup. “Now, I believe it’s time for you to go.”
“I’ll just come back.”
“I’ll be sure to close the Floo before your next binge,” Snape said, tone dry.
“Snape--”
“Harry.”
Blinking at the soft note in Snape’s voice, Harry whispered, “Yes?”
“I promised your mother that I would protect you from harm, and I shall, even if you’re the one determined to do that harm.” Snape stood up and began to pace. “You have grown up into a capable man, a man of compassion, someone who deserves a partner who isn’t a washed up Death Eater.” He shook his head. “What you feel for me is probably a result of the memories I gave you that night in the shack. I thought I was dying, and perhaps I...overshared. Be that as it may, I can’t fix that now, but I can prevent you from making a grave error. Now, I think it best if you move on, forget me.”
“What if I can’t?” Harry asked. “What if I don’t want to? I’m grown up enough to know what I want, and I want you.”
Snape sighed. “That’s just Gryffindor stubbornness talking. You see something someone has told you that you shouldn’t want, and you want it--”
“I am stubborn, but that’s not why I want you.” Harry reached out, clasping Snape’s arm to prevent him from pacing. “You believe I haven’t thought about this? I know how old you are, I know what you did during the war, I know you, and the more I know, the more I want to know.”
“Foolish boy.” Snape glanced down at Harry’s hand on his arm. “Just go.”
“I don’t--” Harry bit back a curse as his wand buzzed. “Damn, my wand. I have to go.” He tightened his hand on Snape for a moment. “But I’ll be back. And before Friday. Don’t do anything drastic, all right? We need to finish this.”
Walking towards the fireplace and grabbing some Floo powder, Harry smiled at Snape. “I’ll be back.”
As the flames flared green around him, he thought he heard Snape say, “We are finished,” but before he could reply to that, Snape’s home had disappeared. When he tried to return later that evening, however, he was unsuccessful.
*****
“What if he actually managed to disconnect his Floo?” Harry wailed. It had been a day since he had left Snape’s and he’d again been unable to get back.
Hermione waved her hand dismissively. “He didn’t.”
“How do you know?” Harry was on his knees, staring glumly into his own fireplace. “For all we know the order has already been processed.”
“I had a little chat with the clerk who processes Floo closure requests.” She smirked as Harry turned to stare over his shoulder at her. “No Floos will be closed for at least a week. That gives us time to find him.”
“You clever girl,” Harry breathed. “Look at you, breaking the rules.”
Hermione blushed. “I’m not breaking them, just...bending them a little. Anyway, we need a plan to find him. Still nothing when you try your Tracing Spell?”
“Nope.” Harry shook his head and got to his feet. “Since I always seem to end up at his feet when I’m drunk, maybe I just need to drink regularly,” he muttered.
“Harry! That’s it! You’re brilliant.” Hermione rose. “Do you have any alcohol?”
“Yeah, but it’s only three, Hermione. Bit early to start that, don’t you think?”
She rolled her eyes. “As you just said, since you always seem to locate him when you’re drunk, we need to get you drunk and make you Floo now.”
His eyes widened. “You’re brilliant! Kreacher!”
The elf appeared immediately. “Master?”
“Bring us--” Harry pursed his lips, “--a bottle of white wine and a bottle of Firewhisky.”
“But I don’t have to drink,” Hermione protested weakly.
“Well I refuse to drink alone,” Harry said firmly. “I’m pathetic enough as it is.”
Laughing, Hermione accepted the glass the elf wordlessly handed to her. “All right, but tell me you have a couple of phials of Sobering Potion we can use later.” She stared at him for a moment. “And here’s to finding what you seek. I hope he’s worth it.”
Yeah, I do, too. Harry Summoned the potions, and when they each had one in their pocket they proceeded to get sloshed. Fortunately, Hermione maintained just enough of her wits so that when Harry was barely still coherent, she said, “I think it’s time.”
It took Harry a moment to get her meaning, but when he did he started to get up, stumbling when he did so. “Time t’fin’ Snape,” he muttered. “Mmm, Snape.” He grinned goofily.
“Yes, you’re def’nitely ready,” she sighed, helping him up. While not too steady herself, she nevertheless managed to manoeuvre him to the fireplace. Handing him some Floo powder, she whispered, “Now, how’d you find Snape before?”
Harry blinked at her. “N’ idea,” he whinged. “Bloody man! Shouldn’t make it s’hard to find him.” Wrinkling his brow, Harry stepped into the fireplace. “Take me to Snape, dammit!” he yelled.
To his shock, the Floo obeyed and seconds later, Harry was tossed out onto a familiar hearth.
Snape didn’t even look up from his book. “Potter. What a surprise. And drunk, too. Shocking. It’s a bit earlier than usual, though.”
Having somehow got to his feet, Harry had to hold onto the wall to stay upright. “’M only drunk cuz it’s t’only way I c’n find you,” he slurred, furrowing his brow. There was something that he was supposed to do when he arrived...
“I’ve been trying to close my Floo but it seems to be tied up in processing at the Ministry.” He looked up, spearing Harry with his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Not trusting himself to speak, Harry shook his head, immediately regretting the impulse when the room wouldn’t stop spinning.
“Indeed.” Snape sighed. “I suppose you wish to stay here and sober up? Perhaps borrow my sofa again?”
“Needed t’talk t’you,” Harry managed. “’Bout what we were discussing ’fore.”
“We are not having any conversations while you’re drunk,” Snape stated firmly. “And since you never seem to be sober when you get here--”
Harry’s eyes widened. The thing he’d forgotten had just come back to him and, triumphant, he reached into his robes and pulled out the phial of Sobering Potion. “Aha!” Under Snape’s watchful eyes, Harry downed the potion, immediately recalling the detailed plan he’d worked out with Hermione.
Snape crossed his arms. “And now that you’re sober you can leave,” he said.
Harry shook his head. “Not a chance, and definitely not before we finish our conversation.” Walking over to the sofa, he sat down.
“Everything has already been discussed, Potter.”
“You called me Harry before,” Harry reminded him.
“That was...a mistake.” Snape looked away.
“I liked it,” Harry admitted softly.
Snape scowled. “Potter, we’ve already talked about this, but since you seem to require a reminder-- I am the least suitable person for you on the planet. No one would accept any sort of relationship between us, and rightly so since I am a--”
“I know exactly what you are,” Harry interrupted, leaning in. “You’re the hero who saved my life many times.”
Snape rolled his eyes, and Harry sighed. “Fine, I also know you were a Death Eater and are a bit older than I am. And you know what? I don’t care. Guess who helped me figure out how to get here today? Hermione. And Ron, while you’re not his favourite person, wants me to be happy, so he’s even rooting for us. I don’t think people care about my life as much as you think they do.”
“You’re the Boy Who Lived, the saviour of the wizarding world, of course they care! The press will pillory both of us!”
Harry shook his head. “Yeah, they may try, but since I don’t care what they say, and I don’t think you care either, what’s really the problem? You’re the one who’s putting up barriers. So tell me, Sn--Severus. Am I mad? Or are you just as interested in me as I am in you?”
Snape flushed. “That’s hardly relevant--”
“I think it’s very relevant!” Gathering his courage, Harry clasped one of Snape’s hands, cheering inwardly when he didn’t pull away. “I saw your memories. I know how you feel about me.” He blushed. “And I never shared all that I saw, but it stayed with me.”
“I never meant for you to see those--”
“Too late.” Harry grinned. “I did and I liked them.” He blushed. “I really liked them. So now what?”
“I can Obliviate you,” Snape offered, and for a moment Harry thought he was serious. “Although, with my luck, you’d find a way to resist and just show up in my Floo next week.” A smile played about his lips.
“I do seem to be annoying like that,” Harry agreed. He entwined their fingers. “So instead, can we try something I saw in one of your memories?”
“What exactly?” Snape asked, standing and drawing Harry to his feet.
“There was a night when you were wanking and you moaned my name when you came.” Harry blushed under Snape’s intent stare. “I’d like to see that again.”
“Very well,” Snape murmured, face flushed. “Although you may find that if we’re touching when we both come it’s more...enjoyable.”
Harry was sure he’d find just about anything with Sna-- no, Severus, enjoyable. “No argument from me,” he managed, throat suddenly constricted. And as Severus led him down the hall towards the bedroom, Harry’s entire body tightened in delicious anticipation.
The bedroom gave the impression of luxury, but what caught Harry’s attention was the bed: large, plush and inviting. It looked as if it would be heaven to sleep in, not that Harry was planning on doing that much sleeping that night...
“Perhaps you’d like a drink,” Severus offered, eyes on Harry. “To relax you.”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t need alcohol,” he said, moving closer. “You’re intoxicating enough.”
One of Severus’ eyebrows went up. “Apparently you’re poetic when you’re seducing someone. There’s no need to continue the pretty words, Potter. You’ve won.”
Somehow Harry doubted this would be his last battle with Severus, but he let that go. “Humour me,” he said, pulling Severus towards the bed. “And call me Harry.”
“Harry,” Severus repeated, his hands finally beginning to undo his robes, to move over his body with intent. “Have you done his before, Harry?”
“Not as such, no,” Harry gasped, closing his eyes as their clothes vanished, enjoying the sensation of Severus’ fingers sliding over his skin. “Some fooling around, but nothing...like this.”
“We can stop whenever you say.” Severus settled him back onto the bed, and Harry, suddenly realising that they were both naked, threaded his arms about Severus’ neck to pull him closer.
“Don’t want you to stop,” he said, sighing as their bodies moved together. “Feels good.”
“Indeed.” To Harry’s disappointment, Severus pulled away and sat back on his haunches, straddling Harry. “But I thought you wanted to watch me,” he purred, holding Harry’s gaze.
Harry gaped as Severus began to slowly stroke his own cock. “I want to touch, too,” he whimpered.
“Then touch,” Severus urged, and Harry didn’t need another invitation. Reaching out, he curled his fingers around Severus, smiling as Severus hissed in pleasure. “Harder.”
Unbearably aroused himself, Harry continued to stroke, savouring Severus’ gasps and hitched breaths. When Severus shifted so that their cocks were lined up side by side, Harry moaned. “What are y--?”
“You’ll like this,” Severus said. “Just trust me.”
“I do,” Harry said, looking up into Severus’ face. “I really do.”
Severus’ eyes blazed. “Come here,” he rasped, and Harry, unable to resist, sat up. As he did so his own prick slid alongside Severus’, sending sparks shooting up Harry’s spine. But it wasn’t until Severus gathered their cocks in his hand and began stroking at a furious pace that the sensations really intensified.
“Oh God!” Throwing his head back, Harry shuddered.
“I thought...you wanted to...watch,” Severus panted hotly in his ear.
“I...” Harry swallowed convulsively before looking down, knowing that the sight of Severus wanking him...them would be enough to shatter him. “Fuck,” he moaned, his cock beginning to spasm in Severus’ hand.
“That’s next,” Severus murmured, his deep voice dark with promise, and that was enough to send Harry entirely over the edge. Shaking with the force of his orgasm, Harry came spurting over Severus’ belly.
Their mouths met and melded in a scorching kiss, and as Severus’ tongue plundered Harry’s mouth for the first time, Harry could feel Severus’ seed spilling onto him. Wrapping his arms around Severus, Harry held him and snogged him as Severus shuddered through his own pleasure.
Needing to catch his breath, Harry finally pulled away, groaning as Severus sucked his lower lip for a long moment before letting go. He leaned his forehead against Severus’ shoulder and breathed.
“Curiosity satisfied?” Severus eventually asked, voice muffled by Harry’s hair.
Harry, whose face had been buried in Severus’ neck, raised his head. “Not hardly.” He grinned. “I seem to remember a few more memories of yours that I’d like to explore.”
“I should have brewed some Stamina Potion,” Severus lamented.
Laughing, Harry drew him down onto the bed. “Oh, I suspect we’ll manage,” he said, curling close. “I’ve enough stamina for both of us.”
“Merlin help me.” Severus sighed. “Perhaps I can still move.”
“Nope. I’ll always find you.” Harry smiled as he felt Severus relax in his arms.
*****
Something damp yet not was nuzzling him and Harry groaned. “Give me a minute, Severus,” he whispered. “We only just did it.”
“Indeed.” Severus sounded as exhausted as Harry felt. “I recall. After all, I was there.”
“Mmm, you sure were.” Harry stretched, savouring the aches in odd places. He was sure he had bruises all over, but somehow he couldn’t dredge up enough concern to worry about it. He’d earned those bruises fair and square, really.
Something cold brushed his arm and Harry cracked open an eye. “What is--? Oh.”
Hermione’s glowing otter Patronus was hovering over him, clearly trying to wake him up. Ignoring Severus’ muttered, “Oh for-- I really must redo the wards on this place,” Harry sat up.
“You have a message for me?” he asked it.
It undulated in the air for a moment before Hermione’s voice could be heard. “Are you all right, Harry? You didn’t go home last night.”
Harry glanced over at Severus, who was watching him with clear interest. He smiled. “Tell her I’m fine and that I’m home now,” he instructed.
As the otter drifted through the wall, Severus murmured, “Taking a lot for granted, aren’t you?”
Harry simply lay back down, curled into Severus. “I thought you’d blocked all Patronuses?” he asked.
Severus stiffened. “I thought it best to allow them in the event you...needed me,” he finally replied.
Harry smiled. “Thank you.” He waited for a minute before asking, “So do you really mind that I think of this as...home?”
“Does it matter what I think?” Severus snorted. His arms tightened about Harry. “It’s...acceptable.”
Yes, Harry reflected. Finding my way back here, back home, was definitely worth it.