A/N: hey guys, me again, I haven't forgotten about this story no worries! this note is a bittersweet one for me, as I am so proud of myself for getting a longfic done and finished and uploaded, I can't even believe it. but on the same note, this is my baby. I'm not sure what to do now. I've been writing this for what seems like forever...I guess I'll just have to start up a new, longer, better one! Oh man...
Haha anyways, sorry for the delay, I've recently just gotten a job (with a very cute boy that I am intending on dating) and a car and some pretty crazy personal problems I'm trying to deal with and all that fancy stuff so my life has been pretty hectic.
But enough about me, right? This chapter is a fair bit shorter than the others, but I didn't want to spoil it with too too much fluff wording and unnecessary details to simply make the word count go up. So, although I'm not too terribly fond of the very ending, I think this chapter as a whole was a nice end. I really really hope at least some of you agree!
Enjoy, and please give me some ideas for a new fanfic! I'll even try my best to make it smutty for you guys.
Much love,
Sarah
"You're not sick, get up," Severus snapped, looking past his reflection to glare at Harry through the mirror.
"I am. Terribly, terribly ill. Highly contagious," he coughed for good measure, snuggling farther into the comforter he had wrapped around himself.
Snape sighed as he fixed the cuffs on his shirt sleeves. "You weren't ill last night," he muttered darkly, turning around and pinning Harry with an ominous smirk.
Harry swallowed, sniffling a little as his only argument. Snape strode across to their bed and leaned over the slight frame encompassed under the mass of blankets. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, he tilted forward, grazing his teeth along Harry's ear. Harry shivered, turning his head slightly to catch Severus' lips in a kiss. Snape indulged him, swallowing the small noise of contentment that came from deep within Harry's throat. He pulled back suddenly, ripping the blanket from around the boy.
"Get up," he snarled shortly.
"Sev! I could die!" Harry sounded shocked.
"As if my life would be so easy," he replied smoothly.
Harry pouted, "Seriously,"
"Yes, just like this illness could've killed you exactly a year ago, and the year before that, and for the past six years if my memory holds,"
"Curious thing, sickness," Harry mused, blushing slightly.
"You're not sick and you're not getting out of this dinner," he dictated, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just like I am not getting out of tomorrow," he added, grumbling.
"Can't we just skip it all?" Harry whined.
"If I were to acquiesce, you would simply change your mind come tomorrow morning. It's a celebration; I thought Gryffindors were fond of such things,"
Harry grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
"Besides, they simply want to show their gratitude, it's the ten year mark on the end of the war. Narcissa and Draco never thought they'd be with us at this point,"
"And here I thought Malfoys were incapable of such frivolities," Harry pitched his voice low on the last word, in a terrible imitation of Snape's own.
"Potter, behave. If I can hold my tongue around so many Weasels-"
"Weasleys," Harry growled.
"Freudian slip," Snape shrugged, not looking at all apologetic.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry sighed, sitting up. He yawned, stretching wide and coming back down to run a hand along his chest. His lips twisted up in that damn crooked smile as he caught Snape staring at him.
Snape rolled his eyes, turning back to the mirror to fix his vest. He chuckled once and sighed again, eyeing Severus.
"You look nice,"
"Don't sound so surprised," he growled, patience growing thin. As much as he loved the brat, he really was quite difficult to live with.
"I'm going," Harry muttered, getting up and padding morosely to the bathroom. "But I still don't know why we need three piece suits, it's just dinner. Honestly, it's as if they've never even heard of..." he trailed off as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Snape chuckled low, shaking his head at the young man. He turned back and forth in front of the mirror. He frowned; something looked off. Smoothing his hair, he grumbled at the few grey strands throughout, no doubt Potter's fault. He looked around, thinking, and grabbed the silver silk ribbon Harry had bought him a few years back. He tied his hair back just above the nape of his neck, smoothing it down and hiding the tie underneath. He re-evaluated his appearance, still dissatisfied.
Strong arms were around his waist then, Harry's warm body pressed against him. He was on his toes, with his head resting on Snape's shoulder.
"Exactly what I was missing," Snape murmured, eyes softening as he looked at their joined reflection.
He turned slightly and pulled Harry in front of him, bending to kiss him softly. His hands dropped to the slender waist, holding him tight. All too soon, he pulled back, and frowned, focusing his attention on Harry's vest.
"Buttoned," he chastised, quickly buttoning his vest together with nimble fingers.
Harry pouted, "Yes, sir" he muttered.
It didn't seem like Severus ever let him kiss him for near long enough. Snape paused, lifting an eyebrow as he glanced up at Harry.
"Yes, dear," Harry corrected, grinning ruefully.
Snape sighed, shaking his head, and straightened, taking in Harry's appearance.
"Crooked," he mumbled.
"Some things never change, right?"
Harry's grin grew wider as Snape just rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. He let out a soft chuckle despite himself, looking sideways at Harry. His green eyes were twinkling, shining as they took Severus in. He let a small smile grace his lips as Harry's eyes softened, showing a sense of true contentment.
"Come here, you insolent brat," Snape purred.
Harry took a step closer, shaking his head in amusement at the way Snape had let the words fall gracefully off his tongue, a term of endearment after so many years.
Snape sighed and reached out, grabbing Harry by the bottom of his vest and tugging him closer.
He dropped his head and leaned in for a kiss, his hand coming up to rest on Harry's cheek.
The smaller, lithe body melted against his and he held him tighter, wrapping his arms firmly around the slender waist and deepening the kiss. Harry's hands were in his hair, toying with the ribbon and gently pulling on the ends of the soft hair.
When they finally broke apart for a breath, Snape drew Harry flush against him, coming to rest with his cheek against the top of the younger man's forehead. He held him tightly, not wanting to let go.
He thought about simply giving into the brat's idea of forgoing this dinner altogether, however much he might regret it when he found himself standing in the middle of the Burrow tomorrow. The idea of the scrumptious man in front of him almost made it worth it. Almost.
He sighed, regretting his words before he even spoke them.
"We'll be late," he muttered quietly.
Harry smiled against his chest at the words. Late as they may be, Severus had made absolutely no move to break apart from him and get on their way.
"We can't be late, we're the guests of honor. Everyone else is simply early,"
Snape chuckled once, "What a very Gryffindor notion of you,"
Still, he didn't move.
"I love you," Harry whispered against his coat, placing a light kiss on his black clad shoulder.
Snape tightened his grip, feeling Harry do the same against his own back.
"I love you too," he said softly into the messy black hair that was currently tickling his cheek. "I love you too," he murmured.
They broke apart, looking into each others eyes for a second before Severus hastily turned away, clearing his throat.
"Right. I trust you will be willing to side along apparate?"
"Of course," Harry agreed, moping slightly over the sudden loss of contact. He supposed he should be used to it by now.
"Shall we?" Snape turned to him, extending a hand.
Harry smiled, grasping the slender fingers in his own.
Snape squeezed his hand gently, mind already miles beyond their dinner.
"Let's get this over with," Harry said seriously, looking eager to get going.
"Yes, let's," Snape growled hungrily, eyes drinking up Harry's elegant form.
Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small smile and blush that accompanied it. He might never get used to the way Severus looked at him like that.
They left their house for the cold streets of Dublin, hand in hand, like they had for the past six years, and like they would for the rest of their lives.