Chp 2:One Day

"Harry we've been tracking some high level spellwork at an address. We need you to check it out."

Harry didn't look up from the report he was filling out. "Can't you send Ron? I've got to get these backdated reports filed, as per your orders."

"Ron's already on assignment." Kingsley answered immediately.

"Cory, then," Harry suggested.

"Everyone is on assignment except you."

"Come on, Kingsley, don't send me on this! It's a rookie assignment!" Harry said, looking up in frustration. "Besides, you told me to get these into your inbox by the end of the day. Can't you do it? Or what about Lisa? She could use the field experience."

"Now I'm giving you until the end of the week," Kingsley said, smirking. "As for me, the whole point of running the department is that I don't have to go chasing magic spikes anymore. I don't want Lisa on this, I want you."

"Ugh!" Harry groaned. He threw his head back before glowering at his boss. "Fine. Send the hardened Vet on a rookie run. What's the story?"

Kingsley shrugged and held up the parchment with the mission summary. "Address isn't listed as a magical residence, and it's on the edge of a Muggle neighborhood. First thought was Muggleborn kid or kids, but the spikes are still shooting off since Hogwarts' term started."

"How long?"

"16 years or so."

"And we're just hearing about it?!" Harry asked incredulously.

"Wasn't a priority, but last week the house hit the radar with a magical explosion that rocked the nearby houses," Kinglsey said, leaning against the opening of Harry's cubicle.

"And again," Harry growled impatiently. "We're just hearing about it now?"

Kingsley shrugged again. "Protocol says they get a warning letter, in case it's an unregistered kid. I want you to go in 'under', in case it still is an unregistered kid with bullies for parents."

Harry smiled knowingly. "Ah, and the truth comes out. You want me 'cause I can be discreet and can sympathize if it's a kid."

"Hit the proverbial nail on the head," Kingsley replied, grinning. "Now go on. I'll see what I can do to expedite your reports."

Harry nodded and took the summary when Kingsley held it out for him. He began to gather what he'd need, grateful that he'd swung a policy change that let him wear Muggle clothing to work. He wouldn't have to go home to change. If the spikes were happening during the day, there was a chance the kid was just being homeschooled by a magical parent. The Gryffindor prayed it hadn't been an abused kid the system had missed. That was the problem with an overworked system. There had been a baby boom following Voldemort's defeat, and sometimes kids got missed. Magical parents could complain if their kid didn't get a Hogwarts letter, but Muggleborns, in spite of being more closely monitored, could still be missed as well. Even magic had it's limits.

-Break-

Harry sucked in a deep breath as he fingered the wand under his long sleeve. These cases were always unpredictable. The chances were good that it was a kid, but it was always possible that some witch or wizard had slithered under the Ministry's radar for long enough that their magic wasn't being tracked. These people tended to be ne'er-do-wells with violence in their veins, and anger in their hearts, especially towards Ministry officials.

Fingering his wand again, Harry knocked on the door, some of the peeling paint flaking off under the force. He waited, shifting on the balls of his feet nervously. Rookie run or not, whatever waited on the other side of the door could still be dangerous. Harry tensed when he heard movement from the other side of the barrier. When the door opened, he was completely unprepared for what he'd find. Words evaded him as he stared in mingled shock and terror. A pale hand darted out of the house and pulled him inside, flinging him carelessly.

Harry stumbled slightly on the runner, and just caught himself before he could fall face first onto the un-sanded wooden floor. He turned, paling slightly, as the door closed and the apparition rounded on him. His throat worked, clicking dryly, until he found a word, any word.

"You're dead."

"It would appear not," The deep baritone growled. Burning black eyes glared at him in the dark hallway.

"I watched you die!" Harry argued a little petulantly.

Snape scoffed. "Melodramatic, as always."

"You son of a bitch!" Harry screamed, regaining himself. "You made me watch you die, and you have the gall to call me melodramatic!"

"Did you mourn, Potter?"

"Of course I did!" Harry said, still shouting. "I mourned you and everyone else I lost that day! Did you expect me to dance on your grave?!"

"It was within the realm of possibility."

"Well I didn't, you stupid bastard! I mourned your death, at the grave we had to fill with ash because the Shrieking Shack had burned down in what we'd assumed was the aftermath of the war!" Harry shouted, stepping towards the stoic man. "I suppose I can now safely assume it was you who put countless lives at risk by nearly setting fire to all of Hogsmeade."

"You have a gift for histrionics, Potter. I remained long enough to ensure the fire was contained," Snape explained simply.

Harry, finding his anger had no more words, moved towards the man and raised his fist. His hand was captured before it could connect with a solid jaw, and Snape used the leverage to drag him even closer. The kiss was angry, and bruising. Harry pulled his hand free and pushed against the strong chest, but his hands were shoved aside and his head was grabbed fiercely, drawing him further into the kiss. He balled his fists into the starched white shirt and dragged their bodies together. He needed this even more than he wanted it, and he was old enough now to pray it didn't stop at something as innocent as what had happened almost 20 years ago.

-Break-

Harry placed lazy kisses across a pale chest as he knelt over Snape's body. They were both well spent, but he couldn't seem to get enough of the man. Each kiss reminded him that the Potions Master was still here, still alive, and he wasn't hallucinating. Long, slim fingers, carded through the hair at the back of his head as he continued his ministrations.

"Don't you have a wife you should be returning to?" Snape asked.

Harry sighed and collapsed to the bed, taking some of the sheets with him. He stared up at the yellowed ceiling, trying to slow his breathing. "Not really. She's at the Burrow. By which I mean, she's in Wales, sleeping with Michael Corner."

Snape shifted and put his hands under his head on the pillow. "How long has that been going on?"

"About two years," Harry said with a shrug. He rolled over and started to draw concentric circles on the pale chest, scratching out his own name with his nail.

Snape grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips before holding it firmly on his chest. "Why do you stay if she is unfaithful?"

"I wouldn't exactly call what we just did 'fidelity'. Anyway, we've got three kids together."

"Ah," Snape said as if that explained everything. "Your youngest?"

"Actually at the Burrow," Harry explained, sitting up. "I took the week for myself, because I have a mountain of work to finish at the office."

"Then you do have somewhere to be?"

Harry groaned and nodded, moving to the edge of the bed to grab his clothing from the floor, or what little of it had survived the trek to the bedroom. He slipped on his shorts and slacks in a single unit, standing from the bed.

"I probably should, yeah," He said aloud.

"Will you return?"

Harry looked over his shoulder with a smirk. Snape had shifted to his side, and was staring resolutely at the rumpled bedspread. "That depends."

Snape scowled. "I imagine I am now meant to inquire as to what it depends on?"

Harry grinned and turned back. He leaned over the bed to kiss those thin lips he thought might have been pouting. The kiss deepened, and he wound up half-kneeling on the edge of the mattress. He pulled away to smirk down into the softened black gaze.

"Whether or not you'll be here when I do."

Snape scowled again. "It is fair to say that one day I may not be."

Harry continued to smirk, uninhibited by the foul mood. "Then I pray that day is long in coming." He replied simply. He stood up again, collected his socks, and left the bedroom to find his other clothing.

-Break-

Harry did indeed return to Spinner's End. He had played off the magic spikes with Kingsley, who had agreed that the situation would stay between them. It was a few weeks before he got the chance to go back, but Snape was eagerly awaiting him when he did. Over the course of the next few months, Harry would call on the Potions Master. In the aftermath of their coupling, they would lie again together on the bed. It was in the moments of afterglow that Harry discovered what had happened in 20 years. Under an assumed name, Snape had begun a mail-order Potions business with one or two big clients that kept him comfortable. The Goblins at Gringotts, secretive little bastards, were more than willing to maintain his accounts for him, hidden just under the Ministry's nose.

It was on one such occasion, of lounging in the sweaty comfort of their spent passions, that Snape asked a most unexpected question.

"Would you have married her, if you had known I was alive?"

Harry shrugged, curled against the bony chest. "Who's to say? Maybe."

"That isn't an answer."

"It's a little late for the question," Harry argued. "You've been 'dead' for twenty years. I have no idea what I would have done back then. I was 17, and confused. I'd just fought a war, won a war, that had cost me some of my closest friends. I don't know what I would have done back then. I ask myself all the time now, if I'd have married Ginny if I knew then what I know now, and I don't have an answer, not for either of us."

Snape lifted his arm from Harry's back and rolled away. "Get out."

Harry scoffed, but he wasn't about to argue. He got up and began to dress. He was being asked to leave, but he knew from the tension in the pale, naked shoulders, that he would be back. How could he stay away?

-Break-

It was a few visits later that Harry worked up the courage to ask for his own answers. He still had no idea if he was simply fulfilling the role his mother might have, if she and Snape had been less stubborn as children. So, in the lingering touches of post-coital bliss, he asked the one question that summed up his own feelings.

"Do you love me?"

Snape sighed. "I couldn't say."

Harry nodded, shoving away the sting of tears behind his eyes. It was no more than he'd expected. He rolled away and began to dress again. He wouldn't wait, this time, for some pressing, urgent business to occur to him, or for Snape to remind him that he had a wife and child waiting at home. He needed no encouragement, this time, to escape the grasp of his forbidden emotions.

-Break-

It happened, Harry thought, by accident. Snape had reminded him of his waiting wife and youngest child, and had mentioned his own need to complete an order of potions. They had dressed at the same time. It was a first, as Harry usually left Snape lying comfortably in his bed. But they had both drifted to sleep, wholly by accident, and the sun had been slipping towards the horizon when they awoke. So they had dressed together, and left the bedroom. Harry moved immediately to the front door, expecting Snape to break off any moment for his lab. Instead, the Potions Master had followed him.

"Will I see you again?"

Harry turned, the hand that had been reaching for the door falling back to his side. He smiled endearingly, having grown used to this surprising insecure side to the stoic man. In answer, he drew the taller, older wizard into an insistent kiss. It was immediately returned, as he'd known it would be. When he made to pull away, Snape held tight to him, not letting him go far.

"Would you leave your wife if I asked you?"

Harry smirked. "I couldn't say." Snape glowered, and Harry gave a light chuckle. "I'm not teasing. I honestly won't know until you ask."

Snape sucked in a deep breath. "Will you leave your wife for me?"

Harry felt his heart speed up in his chest, so rapid that it would have been impossible not have skipped a beat or two. He nodded, but when he spoke, it wasn't what he wanted to say. It was what he needed to say.

"You'll have your answer when I have mine."

Harry expected a scowl. He expected to be forced from the house where he would never again be welcome. Instead, Snape offered up a playful smirk and a light kiss.

"One day, Mister Potter."