The next day, Harry walked out of the school for the last time as a student. As always, the majority of the teachers were on the front steps, seeing off their students. Harry took a deep breath as he stepped into the bright sunlight. It felt like an era was passing. As he moved down the steps, he looked at his professors. Most of them were smiling, knowing he'd be back in the Fall as their colleague.

Bright emeralds flashed sharply off the onyx gaze of the one professor who wasn't smiling. Then Snape turned away. Invisible to most, Harry saw the man cringe with buried pain. His heart ached in his chest, to hold and be held at least one more time… and one more time after that. Clarity struck with the force of a blow, and Harry's feet slipped on the stone steps. Almost instinctively, Snape caught him under the arm and righted him before drawing away. A wall of ice descended between them as his arms crossed over his chest tightly and he turned away completely. Harry watched him go, and knew he couldn't let this end, couldn't abandon this one hope for happiness. He didn't care what his head was telling him, his heart was more important, and his heart wanted to spend the rest of their natural days together. In his heart, he didn't care that he would always come second to Lily. He'd spent the last seven years coming second to his father in everyone's eyes, including his own.

Harry began dodging in and out of the other students, pushing past one or two who moved intentionally to intercept. He thanked every god known to man when Dumbledore saw his efforts and stopped Snape at the doors to the school. A few steps below them, Harry reached out and touched the robed arm. Snape jerked his arm away, glowering at him, but Harry reached out again, and this time Snape didn't pull away. He was still scowling, but there was uncertainty in his brow. Harry finished his ascent, and forgetting the many rules, and crowd of students, he leaned up on his toes to place a light kiss on thin, frowning lips. Snape could not stop himself leaning into it, though from the tension bleeding from every pore, he did his best not to. When Harry pulled away, the Potions Master was still frowning, and Harry looked at him hopefully.

"You don't have to do this," Snape murmured quietly, looking away. "I can live without you."

Harry smiled bashfully, blushing. "Yeah, but… I can't."

Black eyes shot up to his, as if expecting Harry to be taunting him. Harry did everything he could to show his sincerity. Snape surprised him, and everyone watching, when he defenestrated the rules, which were still in effect until Harry stepped off the train, and drew Harry hard against him in a passionate, yet chaste kiss. Harry wrapped his arms around the bent neck, returning the kiss gladly. When they pulled apart, it was only far enough to breathe. Harry suddenly heard the whispers around them and realized he'd just kissed the man in front of nearly the entire school. He didn't care.

"We should talk." Snape said throatily.

Harry nodded, unable to lift his eyes from the tantalizing lips of his Potions professor. "Definitely."

Snape kissed him again, slowly, and it took longer for him to pull away this time. He laid his head against Harry's scarred brow and sighed. "If you're amenable, I will pick you up from the train station. We may talk at my home."

Harry hesitated, and Snape kissed him again.

"I am not asking you to move in," He reassured the Gryffindor. Harry was pretty sure the feeling in his chest was not one of relief. "It is merely a more private venue than any I can otherwise think of. Unless you had rather I come to call on you at Grimmauld?"

Harry shuddered. "No… I- I want to see your home. I want to have that talk. I'm just… unsure."

"I can live with that, and will hopefully put your fears, whatever they are, to rest." He placed a light kiss on Harry's lips. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Harry nodded, and the Potions Master moved as if to pull away. Harry, not quite ready to let go, pulled the man back into a needy, breathless kiss. After a long moment, he pulled back and drew away completely. He smiled shyly, at the somewhat stunned Potions Master and turned away, eyes ducked to avoid meeting the fully stunned gazes of his peers. He climbed into one of the coaches, and, to avoid the temptation to get out and return to Snape's arms, sat away from the open door, at the opposite window. It wasn't long before his friends joined him.

-Break-

One unforeseen, but welcome, result of them faking a relationship since very near the start of term was that, while shocked and speechless, the students didn't have many questions. As far as they knew, this was just a public display of previous happenstance. However, several weren't entirely fooled. For one thing, Snape had obviously been brooding before Harry kissed him, and for another, the man who had a penchant for all things orderly had broken a school rule and kissed him back unabashedly. By some odd luck, however, no one had overheard their conversation. Harry guessed the godawful whispering had gotten in the way.

He'd had to tell a lot of people on the train to buzz off. Some were those who'd noticed the hurt Harry had seen when Snape looked away from him. Most, however, wanted to poke fun at him, or worse, try one last time to hit on him by insulting the Potions Master and his kissing technique. Harry enjoyed pointing out the flaws in their arguments at first, but by the time they reached England he'd just cast a locking charm on the compartment door. Hermione was the only one amongst their friends who'd seen the hurt, and the way he'd gone running up to his dorm after his last visit to the dungeons, and she'd questioned him. In the end, he told her they'd had a fight the night before, but had refused to say anymore. He imagined he was going to have to answer a lot more questions, after Snape came to retrieve him at King's Cross.

The fortunate thing, if there were one, about the constant harassment of his peers was that he didn't have long enough between interruptions to think about what was to come, or how absolutely nervous he was about what would happen when it did. Even so, he was nearly trembling by the time he stepped off the train. He'd realized the most horrible thing. He was in love with Severus Snape. He didn't know when it had happened, had no idea when he'd begun to assume they would just go on pretending to date until they died. He'd never thought about it, perhaps willfully. Now that he had, now that he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life earning those tender smiles and gentle affections, the pain set in.

He would always be James and Lily's son. No matter what he did, he would always look like his father. No matter what he did, Snape would always have preferred his mother. He was sure now, while the knowledge was fresh, that it wouldn't matter, that he could live with that, but his heart wondered. How long could he really live with it? Months? Years? How much time in their lives together would be spent overcoming the shadows of his parents? What if, after a time, Snape grew bored? What if the affection he projected onto Harry, a match flame to Lily's torch, simply went out? Harry knew it would break him. He felt that in a place that had never known pain and suddenly knew nothing else.

But he wanted this. For the first time in his life, he'd found something, someone who made him unbelievably happy. There were no expectations, at least. Snape wasn't going to wake up every morning wishing Harry had transformed into his mum. He may compare Harry to her, and he would substitute his love for her with him, but Harry thought he could live with that. Maybe it was selfish, to use the man's misguided feelings for his own happiness, but he didn't care. He wanted to be happy, and he thought he'd pretty well earned it.

As promised, Snape was waiting on the platform when Harry got off with his levitated trunk and owl cage. He was standing away from the crowds, against the back wall and half-hidden in shadow. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd been completely hidden, though, Harry knew he'd have seen him. Ever since their first kiss, he could admit, belatedly, that he'd had eyes for no one but him. He moved in the Potions Master's direction after a final farewell to his friends and a promise to visit.

Snape, who'd been leaning against the wall, pushed off, straightening, and Harry realized the man had foregone his robes. The Gryffindor couldn't stop his blush. The man looked gorgeous in his high-collared black shirt, vest, and form-fitting black trousers. He cleared his throat when Snape raised an eyebrow and smirked. He couldn't help where his mind had gone. A glance back, as the Potions Master moved from the shadows to pluck Hedwig's cage from the air showed that he wasn't the only one who noticed. Several students were staring, gobsmacked, at their shockingly attractive professor, and even as he looked more were turning to see what had caught their friends' attention. Harry glowered sourly, and jealously, at all of them before turning back to the Potions Master.

Snape held out his free hand, and Harry took it, grabbing onto the handle of his floating trunk. Even knowing what was coming, he still wobbled slightly when they landed. Snape smirked, moving his hand to Harry's shoulder to steady him.

"I'm impressed, Mister Potter."

Harry grinned. "Don't be," He demurred. "I've had to side-along apparate before."

Snape surprised the hell out of him by giving a dark, rolling chuckle that ricocheted around Harry's heart, making it flutter like a frightened bird. It was an intoxicating sound.

"I am aware," Snape said lightly. "However, I was referring to your trunk. Very, very few wizards are powerful enough to maintain any sort of spell through apparating, even side-along."

Harry blushed and gasped when he was drawn into the encompassing strength of Snape's arms. His trunk, thank Merlin, ruined the moment by bumping into them, as he'd still been holding the handle, and the Potions Master pulled away slightly, one arm still wrapped around Harry's waist. He gestured with his other hand. Had Harry been anyone else, he'd have missed the flicker of nervous fear in onyx eyes as the man turned to gesture grandly.

"This is my home," He said with false bravado. "Welcome to Spinner's End, Mister Potter."

Harry, finding he couldn't put it off any longer, looked around with cautious interest. It was, all told, not as bad as Snape had made it seem. The house wasn't falling apart, it was just… fading. The front garden was a turmoil of weeds and tall yellow grass in the setting sunlight, but it wouldn't take much at all to fix it up, and the exterior of the house only needed a new roof and a few coats of paint. Whoever painted it before had obviously forgotten the sealant, but that was easy enough to correct, and would make it easier to scrape off the existing layer to be sure there wasn't any rot in the wood beneath it. Harry was pretty sure that, given a few weeks, he could fix up the small two-story even to his horrid aunt's standards.

The Gryffindor could not stop his blush as he realized where his imagination had taken him. He wanted to live here, apparently. In fact, he really wanted to live here. He wanted to fix it up and turn the house into a respectable home suitable for Potions Master Severus Snape, renowned across Europe not only for his efforts in the war, but also for his far-reaching and astonishing works in Potions. He wanted to give life to the dreary windows… and he wanted to live life beyond them. If the inside was anything like the exterior, he imagined it would take the entire summer, if not two, to really do a proper job.

Pain struck as Snape pulled away to lead him into the house, and Harry hesitated. He'd said 'no'. Twice, technically. How could he be making plans for a home he'd refused? Snape wasn't the sort to offer again, and he was disappointed to discover he didn't have the courage to voice his desire. Hell, he was still hesitant towards a relationship. The worries and doubts from the train began to gnaw at his gut as he finally moved to follow the Potions Master into the house.

The interior was dark, and even as Snape waved his wand, igniting the lights (all, thankfully, Muggle electricity), it was still dim. Harry looked around shamelessly, setting down his trunk by the couch, until he realized he was making an internal list of the things that needed to be done. Realization made him feel cold, and he hated himself for what he was about to do. Selfishly, it wasn't Snape's feelings that made his chest ache, but his own that made him loathe what was going to happen as soon as he worked up the courage to open his mouth. He wrapped his arms around his middle and huddled in on himself.

"Potter…"

Harry flinched when warm hands touched his shoulders and slid along his biceps. He looked up into the frowning, concerned eyes of the man he loved, and forced back the tears burning behind his eyes. He swallowed once, twice, then opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm not her," He managed to force out in a husky whisper.

Snape's brow furrowed in confusion that he didn't bother to hide. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not her," Harry repeated more firmly, straightening to his full, if slight, height. "I wish… I wish I could have this. I wish I could have you. I want you in my life, Snape. I want to wake up every day knowing I'll have a brand new chance to make you smile or laugh. But I can't do this. I can't be my mum, not even for you. I don't want you if you're always thinking of her, if looking at me only reminds you of what you couldn't have and what you settled for instead."

"Potter, I-."

"Please don't call me that," Harry said angrily. "If you're going to break my heart, at least have the courtesy to call me by name. Because I'm not him, either."

Snape scowled. "Harry…" The Gryffindor flinched in preparation for the admittance, or the much worse lie. "I have not wanted Lily in a very long time."

"What?" Harry asked with a gasp. "But you said-."

Snape cut him off by stepping forward and tilting his head back with finger and thumb, his arm worming its' way around to nestle in the curve of Harry's back where it seemed to fit perfectly.

"I told you that I still carry a torch for her," He admitted softly. "But it has been many, many years since I've felt anything like desire for her. And, though she may hate me from the afterlife for saying so, it has been many months since I have felt earnest love for her. I wanted you, Harry, before you saved my life near the start of the term. I wanted you, but I didn't know why. Albus suspected my predilection, which is why he gave his consent by sealing our lie. Some time since then, I began to realize that the feelings I have for Lily were changing, beginning to fade."

"Really?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Really," Snape answered with a gentle smirk. "It isn't fair to her memory, and some part of me will always love her for the role she played in my life, but it is no longer a romantic love. That love… that is yours, if you will have it."

"I want it," Harry admitted softly. He uncrossed his arms from his middle and slid them up to rest his fingers against a thundering heartbeat. "I want you. I don't know when it happened, but at some point I wasn't pretending anymore. In my head, I was. In my head, I couldn't imagine more than a lie to keep us together. But even knowing that, I wanted that lie to last the rest of our lives. I didn't want to be with anyone else. I still don't. It's just…"

"You're still unsure," Snape offered.

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm not. I'm sure I want this, and I'm sure I want you, but I'm scared my naivety will come between us. I have no idea what happens next, Snape."

"Well," The Potions Master said, stepping nearer. "You can start by calling me by my given name."

Harry blushed. "I should have expected that," He said, chuckling as his fingers slid further up to clasp behind the bent neck. "And what happens after that, Severus?"

Snape didn't answer, instead leaning down to capture Harry's lips breathlessly. He drew their bodies flush together, and Harry felt their bodies respond almost simultaneously, Snape's heartbeat a competing drum against his own. He held the man to him, breathing in the intoxicating scent of arousal. He may not know much, but he knew that. That place, where pain had come to live, was empty of it now and filled instead with warmth and arousal. He wanted the Potions Master in the worst way.

He drew back, gasping for breath as his body trembled with desire. "Ask me again," He commanded softly.

Snape smirked, brushing his thumb across his cheek, and leant down to whisper against Harry's lips. "Stay with me."

"Yes," Harry gasped, pulling the man so hard against him that he stumbled.

Severus maintained his balance and held him up. Harry felt fire race through his veins as his fingers trembled. He slid them apart, back down to the hammering chest, as if to push the Potions Master away. Instead, his trembling fingers began working at the buttons on the man's shirt. He expected the Potions Master to stop him, to pull away at any moment, but Severus just continued to kiss him, pushing him back against the front door as Harry worked.

The Gryffindor gasped for breath when thin lips trailed from his lips, along his jaw, to the skin of his throat. There, they began to suckle his pulse hungrily as he managed to unbutton everything above the accursed vest he'd forgotten about. He began working at the toggles and buttons at the same time, switching between them until he could finally pull the shirt free of the black trousers and push both off slim shoulders. Severus' lips returned to his as the Potions Master made much quicker work in divesting Harry of his loose tee, pulling it over his head before returning to devouring his mouth.

Harry couldn't seem to stop touching the warm flesh pressed against him. The scarred hide of the Potions Master held a thousand secrets, and Harry mapped the wiry muscles on the taller wizard's slight frame. Finally, his fingers trailed around to the man's front, his hands pressing and exploring the firm stomach. He reached for the clasp of black trousers trepidatiously. This time, Snape did stop him, his hands abandoning their own exploration of Harry's wider build to curl loosely around his fingers.

"Harry," The man breathed, pulling away slightly. "I- I don't…" He kissed away the frown on Harry's lips. "Not yet."

"But, Severus, I thought…" Harry frowned again, frustrated. "If not now, then… I thought you wanted me. You said you wanted me for a while."

"I do, and I have," Severus reassured him, kissing him again as their chests heaved together. "But you haven't. Our first time together is not going to be some rushed coupling borne of relief and gratitude."

Harry looked away with a scowl. He knew he was pouting, but he couldn't help it. His entire life, he'd taken other people's lead in how to interact, socially and personally. Now he'd finally worked up the courage to act for himself, and he was being told 'no'. A thought danced across his periphery and he snatched at it before it could escape. It was an embarrassing memory of the one time he'd worked up the courage to ask his friends about… coupling. They'd all laughed, but they'd given him some pointers and he considered them now as he hadn't then. He didn't really want to do much more than they already had, in spite of his own raging hormones, but he wanted to give the man something for his patience. He raised wondering eyes to the frowning onyx gaze above him.

"W-what about something… less involved?" He asked, tentatively tracing a finger down the xylophone of ribs.

"Harry…"

"Not that," Harry agreed. "Because… As much as I hate to say it, and as much as I really want you, I am untouched, and it makes no sense for me to start at the peak and work my way down. I don't even know what's involved. I just… I really want you, and I have no idea what to do with that. It's taken me months to get to the same place as you, and all that time, you… you never said a word, you just suffered in silence."

"You are…" Snape breathed, his brow furrowing as his thumb traced Harry's lips. "Incorrigible."

Harry couldn't help a small chuckle.

"However, as I told you many months back, we're going to take this slowly," Snape sighed, drawing away from him, once again tilting his head back as he braced a hand on the door above Harry's head. "Your teenage hormones may forget so easily, but today was only the third time we have even kissed." Harry felt a scowl begin to form in his brow as doubt surfaced. "I want you, Harry, more than words can express, and I promise you that we will attend to our desires soon, but for now I merely wish to hold you, and to kiss you, and to reassure myself that you're not going to go running for the door the second you have a chance. Can that not be enough, for now?"

Harry smiled shyly, returning his arms their place around the stiff neck. "It can," He answered softly. "Though how you expect me to share your bed without things advancing quickly is beyond me."

Snape smirked. "I have excellent self-control, Mister Potter."

"Dastardly thing," Harry breathed, leaning up on his toes.

"Contemptible," Severus agreed solemnly.

Harry pulled the man towards him again and went about the delicate task of consuming the mouth above his as his fingers began remapping the muscles and scars along thin shoulders.