Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last of my From Samhain to the Solstice fics. If I didn't get around to a suggested idea, I will probably write it during my summer series of fics.

Part Two

He woke the next morning with a pounding headache, and he knew enough about Potions interactions now to recognize that he was probably allergic to one of the Veritaserum ingredients. "Delayed fucking reaction," Harry muttered as he stared at himself in the mirror and watched the swimming white circles that seemed to hover in the middle of his forehead as his vision went in and out.

But Snape had said to be there. Harry didn't trust himself to Apparate, so he had Kreacher bring him to the outer boundaries of Snape's cottage wards and then walked the rest of the way. He had to stop and lean against a tree, head bowed. The world was turning dark at the edges of his vision now.

"Potter! What is wrong with you?"

Harry lifted his head and tried to focus on Snape. He could only really track the direction of his voice, though. "A reaction to one of the Veritaserum ingredients, sir," he muttered. "Sorry."

Snape sounded as if he paused, although Harry really couldn't see him anymore. "Headache? Tunneling vision?"

Harry nodded. "And a series of white circles on my forehead when I could still see," he murmured, closing his eyes completely. "Or what looked like them, anyway."

Snape cursed and grabbed his arm, steering Harry the last few steps to the cottage. Harry reached out and felt the edge of the doorway, and sighed with relief. There was a small bench to the side of the door that Snape used for storing boots in winter. He could collapse there.

But Snape mercilessly marched him past it and pushed him into what felt like one of the expansive drawing room chairs. Harry clutched at the arms in surprise as Snape pushed him down, but Snape ignored how ridiculous he must look. "Why did you come today, Potter?" His voice was tight.

Harry blinked up at him as much as he could when Snape might actually be standing across the room. "Because you said I should."

Snape stalked away, muttering. There was something in there about Harry only obeying him when it was dangerous, which he should have "bloody expected." Harry smiled faintly and closed his eyes. He thought he would be okay if he could just rest a bit.

He might have dozed for a few minutes before Snape woke him with a sharp shake to the shoulder and something that smelled like old socks. Harry sniffed at it in resignation as Snape guided his hands around the mug. "Granite shavings and powdered snow combined with rosehips, right?" he asked Snape before he raised the cup to his lips.

"That is right." Snape's voice was hoarse. "You recognized it from the smell?"

"Yes." Harry managed to swallow, but his throat stung. He gasped as the headache suddenly retreated into what felt like the corners of his skull. A second later, it was gone completely. "That's wonderful. You should patent that."

"It is for my private use." Snape folded his arms and stared at Harry. Harry squirmed for a second under his gaze, and then Snape added, "This is the first time that I've given it to someone else."

Harry paused, so that the words could throb in the silence the way he thought they deserved to. Then he nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Snape turned away and prowled around the room. Harry watched him. He wondered if he would be dismissed home, since Snape seemed irritated that he'd come for his lesson at all with the reaction pounding away in his head.

But Snape whirled back around and demanded abruptly, "You could recognize the ingredients of that potion from scent alone."

"Yes," Harry said. He wondered if Snape was about to take out the Veritaserum again to verify that, but Snape didn't.

"You were honest about you desire for my respect and to impress me."

"Yes, sir."

Snape made a harsh, dismissive motion with one hand, as though to say that Harry shouldn't speak the term of respect—but he would never do that, so Harry had to reckon it meant something else he didn't realize. "I want to know how much practice you have put into this when you are at home."

"Usually a few hours of reading a night and an hour of practice brewing each day."

"Outside of what I have you do here."

"Yes, sir."

Snape stepped up to him and stared at him. Harry stared back. He had no idea what Snape was trying to do, but he was welcome to read Harry's thoughts if he wanted. Harry had nothing to hide from him.

Unaccountably, that open honesty seemed to make Snape shy back further. He stared at the floor for a second, and shook his head as if arguing with himself. Then he turned back to Harry and said, "You will get an Outstanding on the Potions NEWT. I can promise you that now." Then Snape seemed to hold his breath, which made no sense.

"Thank you, sir." Harry thought for a second about the way to phrase it, and then added carefully, "I—would still like to come, if you want. I know that I haven't learned everything I could about brewing."

"But everything you need."

"I enjoy brewing," Harry said quietly. "I know I haven't learned as much as I could if I kept working with you. If you want me to leave, I will."

Snape hissed at him as though he was trying to learn Parseltongue and then kept pacing. Harry waited.

"You don't need to be here."

"I want to be."

Snape whirled around and came forwards to lean over Harry again the way he had when he was first giving him the Veritaserum. "No one says that to me! No one enjoys my company."

Harry widened his eyes. He would have thought that would be something Snape would have pride in saying, if he was still as young as he had once been, but he been around Snape for long enough now to hear the genuine anguish in his voice. He replied quietly, "I think they're fools, then, sir. I enjoy it."

Snape glared at him and shifted back, as if a different angle would literally enable him to see Harry better. Harry sat there and only stared back. He didn't know what else he could do to convince Snape of his honesty. His eyes went to the vial of Veritaserum that was sitting on the shelves again, but he knew better than to suggest that a second time.

"You don't know anything about me," Snape whispered finally.

"I know that you're a great brewer," Harry replied. "I know that you're intelligent and brave. Thanks to your memories, I even know something about your childhood. And you know a lot about me because of the way that you had to protect me and read my mind when I was a kid. I don't know what deep dark secrets there are left to uncover, sir."

Snape closed his eyes. "You realize what they are saying about you, Potter?"

That unbalanced Harry. "No," he said, and he knew that Snape could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "What are they saying?"

Snape turned and picked up a paper from the table. It was the Daily Prophet, which Harry hadn't read in months because of how hard he had been working at brewing. The picture on the front was of him, but it was a few years old, and paired with an old picture of Snape.

POTTER IN SECRET LOVE AFFAIR WITH FORMER HOGWARTS POTIONS MASTER?

Harry choked and looked up at Snape. His hands were clenched on either side of the paper almost hard enough to rip it, and he had to swallow several times. But he managed to ask, "Are you upset about this for my sake, sir, or yours?"

"I never wished to have my name linked with yours in a romantic fashion, Potter."

Harry made a decision, then, and stood up. Snape dropped his arms back where they'd been rising to shield his face and stared at him.

"You have the most unusually determined look on your face, Potter," he voiced after what seemed like an uneasy silence.

Harry swallowed. "I think being determined is pretty usual for me, sir," he replied, but he could see the joke fall flat. Snape was concentrated on him, waiting for something.

Harry hesitated once, then leaned forwards and touched Snape's scars for the first time. Snape stood frozen under his touch, not jerking away like Harry had been sure he would. Harry had time to run his fingers in one gentle circle before Snape did lean back.

"Are you mad, Potter?"

"No, sir. I want to touch you, and my only problem with the newspaper title is that they're using the present tense when it's not yet. Is that something you want?"

Snape said nothing, instead standing there with his breath coming out so fast that he sounded like a snorting bull. Harry smiled and tentatively moved forwards again, but he didn't touch Snape this time. He only held his hand ready, and Snape was the one who leaned in to bring Harry's fingers into contact with his skin again.

His eyes slipped closed this time. Harry gently stroked, and learned the roughness of the scars, what they felt like, how they angled up Snape's neck, how they twisted and turned under his touch until running out completely up near Snape's ear and then down near his collarbone. He took his hand back at last and said softly, "I'd like to keep touching you, sir. If you want me to."

Snape stared at him in silence, with enormous eyes. Harry might have been able to read his mind if his own Legilimency was any good. As it was, he kept on looking back, and waited. Snape had been alone for a long time. He might not want to be with Harry at all. Harry had no problem waiting.

Finally, Snape turned his head away and whispered, "Leave, Potter. I'll tell you later."

Harry nodded to him and walked out of the cottage. At least the headache and all the other symptoms from the Veritaserum reaction were completely gone now.

"I need to know more about why you want to be with me."

Harry stepped back and blinked, letting Snape in. He'd never expected the man to show up to his home. He hadn't even known that Snape knew where it was. "Hello, sir. Do you want something to eat or drink?"

"I want answers." Snape swung around, his eyes as intense as they were when he was trying to teach Harry something about finicky measurements. "I want to know why you want to be with me."

"Because you're smart and impressive," Harry said. "And I want to impress you-"

"Not a good basis for a relationship, Potter."

"Because you agreed to teach me even though you probably didn't want to," Harry pushed on. "Because you're more forgiving than I thought you were, and you saved my life, and you're someone who was never impressed by my fame, and even because you wanted to talk about what I felt under Veritaserum, sir. And because I like the way you look."

Snape clamped his mouth shut. It had probably been open in an attempt to hurl another insult. Harry found himself smiling back at him for no reason at all.

"All of those sound like-either counterintuitive or highly strange reasons to want to be with someone, Potter."

"They all add up to: I enjoy your company, and I'd like more of it. Sir."

Snape reached out a hand, then stopped. Harry waited. Again, he couldn't make the decision for Snape. He was the one who would have to choose.

Snape's hand came to rest on Harry's face. Harry shivered. The very fact that this was someone who had loathed him and was willing to give him another chance, and the way that Snape's fingers shook for a second before he closed them into a fist, was incredibly hot.

"You appear to really mean it."

"I do, sir-"

"I refuse to touch someone like this who calls me sir," Snape said flatly, although his hand didn't move away from Harry's cheek. But then he stood there and said nothing else.

It must be a step too far for him, Harry thought, and asked quietly, "Can I call you Severus?"

A moment as tense as being on a tightrope, and then Snape nodded. Well, no, Harry could think of him as Severus now. If he wanted.

Oh, I do want, Harry thought, and stepped forwards and lifted his hands, shaping his fingers gently around the sides of Severus's face and his scars.

Severus made a low noise that quickly built up to a loud one. He jerked Harry forwards and kissed him, aggressively enough that Harry's head swam the way it had when he woke up with the Veritaserum reaction. He clutched Severus harder, and felt his hands go down around his own hips and arse.

Yes, this is what I want, Harry thought dazedly, rough skin under his fingers and a rough tongue pushing into his mouth. For right now, he added to himself, and then thrust his hips forwards to see what he might find.

A matching erection was the answer, and Severus broke away from the kiss and stared at him. Harry smiled back. Severus would have to get used to the fact that someone else wanted him, but Harry was smart enough not to say that right now.

"I want to go to the bedroom," Severus said, and his voice was deep enough that Harry felt the vibration of every word where their chests touched. "Where is it?"

Harry managed to turn his head in the direction of the right door. He was so breathless that he didn't think he could have spoken. Severus kissed him again to make sure of it, and then nudged him along with his hands on Harry's hips and arse.

It looks like he doesn't want to give up touching me any time soon, Harry thought happily, and tilted his head back so that his hair was brushing Severus's shoulder. The hands got more possessive. Harry wriggled and felt them tighten. He smiled again.

"And what should I call you?" Severus breathed into his ear. "'Annoying brat' no longer seems to fit."

"Call me Harry. Sir."

Severus shook him, once, but didn't back off, which made Harry hope that he could get away with joking a little. And Severus kept going when they got into the bedroom and didn't back off because Harry had left his socks lying on the floor that morning, which was a good sign.

He also had Harry sit down on the bed and watch him while he took his clothes off. Harry understood the silent challenge: part of him was still sure Harry wouldn't want him and would turn away when he saw him naked. Harry only raised his eyebrows and stared back boldly as he watched the pale, scarred skin revealed, and the long, lean limbs, and the way that Severus stood with his chin pointing down and his cock pointed up.

Harry only smiled and reached out to stroke Severus's cock, pretty sure he had permission now. Severus shut his eyes and hissed in pleasure, then shook his head and forced Harry's hand away.

"Do you want me to come before I get a chance to fuck you, Harry?"

Harry saw the way his shoulders hunched and his teeth ground together as he spoke both the word "fuck" and the first name. Harry just shook his head and said, "No," and then lay back on the bed and started taking his own clothes off.

Severus stood staring for a blank moment before he strode over and started helping. Harry handed him his robes and hid his grin as he watched Severus fold them and drape them neatly over a chair. That wasn't something Harry would have done, but it was another reason that Harry enjoyed being with him.

When Harry was completely naked, Severus stared at him with a blank expression. "What?" Harry asked him.

"Why does someone who looks as you do want to be with someone who looks as I do?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I like your company, I want to have sex with you, I like the way you look. Come on, Severus."

Severus looked like he wanted to snap for a moment, and then nodded slowly. He reached out and traced his fingertips slowly over Harry's hipbone. Harry tilted his head back and hissed. It felt as though someone was painting fire across his skin.

Severus cast the spells that he needed to prepare Harry and get his cock slick with the same slowness. He climbed onto the bed, kneeled there, and looked down at Harry. Harry looked back and read the thought in Severus's eyes as clearly as if he was a good Legilimens.

"It's okay," Harry said. "I really do want this. Promise."

Severus nodded, and bent down to kiss him. Then, finally, thank Merlin, he was inside Harry where he belonged. Harry got impatient and slid the rest of the way down when Severus paused as if he was going to ask another question.

But then he had to pause and adjust to the fullness, and Severus let him have that before he put his hands on Harry's shoulders and began to thrust into him. And then pound into him.

Severus was moving faster now, his face flushed, his lips slightly parted. Harry reached up and ran his fingers over Severus's cheeks and down his throat. It wasn't until he touched the scars that Severus shuddered and bowed his head a little.

"I'm sorry!" Harry blurted.

Severus looked up and shook his head, his lips parting again. "You-you are the first one since the Healers to touch them," he said, and then his hips jerked and he emptied himself into Harry with a long groan. Harry bucked up and felt a moment of pressure on his prostate before Severus's hand seized his cock.

A twist and another jerk and he was there with Severus, groaning himself as he finished. He tilted his head back and accepted the lazy kiss with gratitude. It brought him slowly back to himself from the spinning with pleasure.

"You are a wonder," Severus said, into the crook of his neck, so Harry wasn't sure he'd meant for Harry to hear.

Harry responded to it anyway. "So are you," he said, and trailed his fingers in circles along the scars, down Severus's shoulders, across as much of his spine as he could reach. Severus shivered. Harry grinned at him. "You want to stay here? I promise I can clean up the wet spot before it gets uncomfortable."

Severus lifted his head and gave him another of those long, searching looks. Harry just looked back. It was great having no quest for the Philosopher's Stone or the Chamber of Secrets to hide.

Severus finally nodded, and slid to the side. Harry fetched his wand and did what was needed to clean up, all while Severus watched him and blinked slowly.

Harry lay down next to him and closed his eyes. It took long moments before one of Severus's hands came to rest on his chest, but it did, and then Severus shifted a little closer.

Harry smiled. It might take a long time, but if he could learn to brew, he was going to learn this, too.

The End.