28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

82

The next few weeks sort of jumped along. Harry would be awake and coherent for hours, sometimes days at a time, and then suddenly he'd wake up and three days had gone by. His memory was off, too, though he was assured this was due to the medication he was on and not related to his head injury.

Ron and Hermione visited as much as possible, but the closer it got to their wedding the more they were pulled away, and then they were on their honeymoon for two or three weeks, Harry couldn't remember. Actually, they were the product of one of his more confused memories, because he was fairly certain he was part of the wedding ceremony, only he was positive he hadn't gotten out of bed. It was more of an image of Hermione in a white dress and Ron's hair behaving than anything else.

Various other Weasleys came and went as schedules permitted, especially Mrs. Weasley, who kept bringing food Harry wasn't allowed to eat and insisting he sneak a bite anyway. George nearly blew up the hospital while trying to show off a new item for the joke shop, and was banned from returning.

Neville stopped by two or three times a week, but he was overseeing the growing of something Harry could never remember at Hogwarts, and couldn't stay away for long.

All the staff of Hogwarts visited at least once, with the exception of Professor Binns, though to his credit he probably hadn't noticed anything was strange. Hagrid and Minerva made the most frequent appearances, and Harry was surprised he had to repeatedly reassure Minerva it wasn't her fault; it seemed that since the Forbidden Forest was technically part of Hogwarts, she felt responsible for all of its inhabitance, and it took a long time for Harry to convince her that wasn't he case, and even if it was, he'd been rescued by centaurs, and they also lived in the Forest.

Then there was Severus.

Severus never left. Not once, at least not that Harry could tell. He assumed he had to go home periodically to change his clothes and shower and eat something beyond hospital food, but he never saw it. Every time he woke up, Severus was there. Every time he sort of drifted in the general direction of awake, he could feel Severus' hand on his. His voice registered when nothing else did, and even when Harry couldn't think clearly enough to know what he was saying, it soothed him in a way the burn paste and drops of potion that went into his puncture wounds couldn't come close to helping.

School started just as Harry was starting to return to a normal schedule. He still slept more than he ever had before, but he would have at least nine or ten solid hours of coherent alertness. After what Severus referred to as a short conversation and Harry understood to be a drawn out battle, he arranged his schedule so he wasn't teaching on Fridays. He still made it out most weeknights, having set up a special Floo in their quarters leading to St. Mungo's, but by the time he made it to the hospital, Harry was asleep more often than not, and there were almost no nights when he stayed awake until Severus finished grading. Having the three day weekend let Harry spend time with Severus while he was awake, rather than sleeping in his presence while his skin knit itself back together.

The second week of September, Harry started going on walks through the hospital. He was amazed and incredibly disheartened to find how much his body had atrophied, and the skin that had been burned was tight, shiny, and could barely stretch at all. At first going from one end of his room to the other was too much, but while he still needed to be accompanied, he was soon able to explore the whole floor, and on one memorable occasion, get himself a chocolate frog from the vending machine. The Healers had been telling him this since he had woken up, but it was finally true: his progress would be slow and outwardly insignificant until suddenly he flew forward; his burned skin still new and strange but once again skin, the punctures from the spikes faded except for a few small scars, and he once again could think. After failing to convince Severus, he had Horace send him the curriculum for the fourth and fifth year classes he was supposed to teach this year and started getting himself up to speed.

The third Friday in September, the twentieth, Harry went outside for the first time since June.

Severus had been with him since breakfast, and just after lunch they received permission to go out to the courtyard. Harry was practically bouncing with excitement, but he forced himself to move slowly and carefully. He could walk normally, but if he intended on a long distance, shuffling hobbles were the way to go. They walked in silence, Severus holding his arm despite Harry's insistence that he didn't need to, remained quiet through the elevator ride, and then it wasn't so much months of pent up words all trying to get out at once as being winded that kept Harry quiet.

The door to the courtyard opened automatically. A light breeze, unseasonably warm, drifted against Harry's face and through his hair. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply; never before had he been so aware of what fresh air smelled like. After a few moments he opened his eyes and stepped outside.

It was sort of anticlimactic in that he was wearing trainers and standing on a concrete walkway, but then they moved out of the shadow of the building and he could feel the sun on him, the smell of fresh grass, and another wisp of a breeze. He let Severus lead him over to a bench and they sat together, still in silence. Harry was going to say something, he'd been planning on saving it for this moment, but all he could do was turn his face up to the sun and let himself breathe.

"They think I can go home in a week or two," Harry said. "Around the end of the month, if I keep up the way I've been."

"That is very good to hear," Severus replied, though he sounded guarded.

Harry's stomach clenched. He didn't know exactly why it would be difficult to move back, but he had known, and for weeks. "I've been talking to Minerva and Horace, too. I'll start teaching again the first week of November. To give me time to get used to Hogwarts again, and see about my other form."

Severus gave him a sharp glance, but a protective one. "You think you will be ready by then?"

"Yeah, I've already been catching up," Harry said. "Helping Horace out with lesson plans, and a little bit of grading."

Severus rolled his eyes. "I am aware."

Harry squeezed his hand. "Just stuff I can do from bed. I'll be observing classes through October, so I'll know if it's too much."

"Even if it is you will do it anyways," Severus replied, resigned. "If you can survive a dragon, I assume you are capable of handling fifth years."

"I hope so," Harry said with a smile that wasn't returned. He steeled himself. "You do want me to move back in with you, right? I can always stay with Neville if you don't, or get my own quarters entirely."

Severus tightened his grip on Harry's hand to the point of almost excruciating pain before relaxing. "You will stay with me."

Harry tried to find the best way to phrase what he needed to say. "Because you want me there, or because you feel guilty?"

Severus' eyes blazed. "Excuse me?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I know you do. I've seen it in the way you hover, and how you hold my arm when you don't need to. I've had nothing to do but lie in bed, and I've gotten very good at reading you over the years. You think if you hadn't gone back to the castle, this wouldn't have happened."

"I think no such thing," Severus said tightly. "It is true that if I had been with you, you would not have been able to go out so far, but if by some means you had, I merely would have slowed you down and taken your focus away from saving yourself."

"I know that," Harry said. "Never mind about if you were there, because you'll never admit that I'd need to rescue you—though I would have—but you're right, I wouldn't have gone so for out. But I would have the next time I was alone; you can't go with me every time. It'd drive both of us mental."

"I told you, I know," Severus replied irritably. "You are aware of the dangers the Forbidden Forest possesses more than most, and you still chose to go out. The consequences are yours."

"I know," Harry said again. "Severus, I know that. It was me, not you. It wasn't even me, it was just the Forest. Nobody knew there was a dragon there, let alone a Horntail. It had nothing to do with either of us."

"Why do you keep repeating yourself?" Severus snapped. "What is the issue?"

"No, Sev, you're not listening," Harry replied. "Stop blaming yourself."

"Don't call me that!" Severus said angrily. "I'm not!"

"You're contracting," Harry pointed out. "Look, it's fine. You don't have to say it to me. Just please, listen to me. It's not your fault and I don't blame you."

"Idiot boy," Severus grumbled.

Harry smiled slightly. "Yeah, probably. But you never answered my question. Do you want me to live with you because you feel like you need to protect me, or do you genuinely want me with you?"

"Of course I need to protect you!" Severus exploded, and that was good, at least they were being honest now. "I have protected you since the day your parents died. My efforts have largely been woefully inadequate due to your stupidity and incessant need for constant danger, but if you take that do mean I do not love you, then you are an idiot."

"That's not at all what I'm saying," Harry replied, turning to face him, taking both Severus' hands in his. "You've been different since I've woken up. I didn't know what it was at first, but I think you're scared that I'll do something stupid and you won't be there to save me. I want you to take care of me, I love it when you do small things for me, like the night you drew me a bath. But you haven't got to rescue me. I'm here, sitting in front of you, on a bench at St. Mungo's, and there's nothing to rescue me from."

Severus looked furious, and he didn't seem to be able to form words.

"I want to live with you," Harry continued. "I love you, and I love living with you, but only if you don't feel obligated to house me. I first moved in because Minerva made me, and then I sort of bullied you into letting me stay."

"I am not capable of being bullied," Severus interrupted tersely.

"Maybe not," Harry conceded. "But I need to know that you want me because of me, and not to keep an eye on me."

Severus yanked one of his hands free and rubbed his forehead. "What do you want me to say, Potter? Your hero complex has grown so large, it seems you believe it has enveloped me as well. What must I say to convince you I have no such affliction?"

"Of course you don't, neither of us do, stop being antagonistic," Harry said, grabbing his hand back. "I'm saying you're blaming yourself for something that isn't your fault, and you're overprotective because of it. You wouldn't even let me read the fifth year syllabus; I had to get it from Horace."

"You are supposed to be healing!" Severus replied. "There is plenty of time for work when you are not in the hospital."

"It's not work, it's looking at a list of potions," Harry said. "And I am healing. I walked out here, didn't I? I've got skin again. I'm tired, but I'm fine." Severus' eyes flicked to the side, and Harry frowned. "What?"

Severus untangled his hand from Harry's—gently, this time—and brushed his temple. "You are not fine."

Harry touched the spot. "Oh, the scar? Yeah, I've got two now. It's nothing. It'll fade some more, and after a while you won't notice it."

Severus shook his head sharply. "It may fade."

Harry closed his hand around Severus'. "Please don't. It's just a scar. You've got your fair share from the wars, we both have. This one's from a dragon, not you."

Severus was still rubbing the raised white tissue with his thumb. "I should have—"

"No," Harry interrupted. "No, you did exactly what you were supposed to do. You gave me something to come home to."

Severus met his eyes with an intensity Harry could barely handle. "That was true, then?"

"Well, at first I was trying to get to Romania," Harry said, offering him a small smile that, again, went unreturned. "But yes, it was you. I could barely think, and I think I was literally on fire, though I might have gone out by then, I was losing gallons of blood, and it was you that kept me going. I thought that even if I died, I could see you one last time, have one last kiss. Or if I did before I saw you, at least you would find me, and you wouldn't be left wondering."

Severus shook his head wordlessly, denying the notion of the possibility of the concept.

"Would you?" Harry asked quietly. "Kiss me? You haven't since I woke up."

"Of course I have," Severus replied, voice rough.

"A real kiss," Harry amended. "A long one, with tongues. You've been so gentle with me, like I'm going to break, but I won't. Please, Sev. I want you so much."

Severus let out a quiet noise, and kissed him. Harry sighed in relief, melting against his hand, opening his mouth and licking Severus' lips, knowing even now he'd need to push him. He felt so good, like home, and he tasted like love, and if only he would—

Harry sighed again when Severus finally, finally responded the way Harry had been waiting for. Their tongues danced for a moment before Severus took control the way he usually did. He'd missed this desperately, he hadn't known how much until now, and he tangled his hand in Severus' hair, refusing to let him go until he was absolutely positive he would be kissed this way again.

Presumably when Severus broke away for air several minutes later, he had gotten his point across. Certainly the flush against his pale skin and how dark his eyes meant Harry had succeeded.

"I remember you telling me you love me," Harry said when he could breathe again. "Before I woke up."

"I have said that before," Severus replied, moving down from his forehead to stroke his cheek.

"You said it twice," Harry said. "And now once more."

Severus' eyebrows flew up. "Once more?"

Harry flushed and stammered. "O—oh? More?"

Finally Severus smiled. Not a big smile, but enough. "Do not concern yourself. I do love you, Harry, very much. I want you to live with me, and while I cannot say that it will not be a relief to have you under my roof and nearby, that is not my primary motive. All right?"

Harry snuggled into his embrace, wrapping his arm around himself and kissing his cheek before tucking his head beneath his. "Okay. I love you, too."

They were silent for a few moments, and then Severus said, "Do not ever do that to me again."

Harry smiled to himself. "I'll try."

Severus let ou ta deep sigh. "And you will fail, I am sure. Really, Harry, dragons? How is it you manage to stumble across a Hungarian dragon in the middle of Scotland?"

"I've been asking myself that question for quite a while now," Harry replied. "I still haven't completely discounted the wormhole-to-Hungary theory."

"Only you could make such a theory sound plausible," Severus said. "What is wrong with you? Do you enjoy near death?"

"No," Harry replied. "It hurts."

"Then tell me how you manage to do this over and over again," Severus demanded. "I cannot even list all of the ways you nearly died while a student, or in the year leading up to the Final Battle. Even after the threat of the Dark Lord has passed, you still manage to court death on a regular basis."

"Oh, come on, this is the first time since I died!" Harry exclaimed.

There was a moment of silence, and then they both started laughing. It was the first time Harry had heard Severus laugh since he had woken up, and it was rare enough before that. Harry pulled him down for another kiss before settling back.

"Speaking of courting," Severus said suddenly. "I have yet to take you on more than a single date. I do not wish to task you, but perhaps I could arrange something within the hospital, or depending on your release, on the grounds of Hogwarts."

"Mm, I'd like that," Harry replied. "Y'know, we haven't had sex in three months."

"Which we will not resume here or on the grounds!" Severus replied. "When you are well—"

"Everything down there works fine," Harry interrupted innocently. "Completely unharmed."

Severus paused for a moment. "Good, but there are other parts of your body involved, and—"

"I'm probably more flexible now," Harry said. "Since I'm short two ribs. I bet I can bend in new ways."

"Be that as it may, when you are home, then—"

"I've been living here for three months," Harry mused. "That's sort of like home, right? I called Spinner's End home over the summer, and that was for three months."

"We are in an open courtyard," Severus replied, apparently out of better excuses. "And you are in pain!"

"I am not," Harry protested. "I get tired easily, and I wouldn't recommend, like, throwing me down a flight of stairs, but as long as you're reasonable careful and don't mind doing all the work…" He could feel Severus' heartbeat start to speed up. "Even if you're too afraid of sex, I could always do other things. You've been so stressed lately, surely you could use some relaxation."

"I'm not—you shouldn't—too busy," Severus stammered, then cleared his throat. "It is far too busy here. There is nowhere we could be undisturbed for any amount of time."

"Ah, but you're forgetting I've been wandering the halls getting my strength back," Harry replied, sitting up and giving Severus a smile. "There's a supply closet by the nurses station that locks from the inside."

Severus paused. "How long can your absence be excused for?"

Harry stood, offering his hands to Severus, who took them only after he stood. "Long enough."

"This is conditional," Severus insisted. "If at any time you are in too much pain or unable to continue, we will stop. Nor are we having sex in a bloody hospital supply closet. Have some decency."

"So where's the line?" Harry asked coyly, making sure the elevator was empty before continuing. "I can blow you, but only if I don't use my fingers?"

Severus glared at him. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying, supply closets are either romantic or they aren't," Harry said. "It feels hypocritical to draw an arbitrary line. Are blowjobs not romantic, then? Because I certainly think they are, and I'd be a little offended if you didn't, too."

Severus' gaze softened. "Of course." He kissed him, jumping when the bell dinged, signifying their arrival. Harry laughed and took his hand, leading him down the halls and into the closet, casting a small Disillusionment charm as they entered.

"So did I bring you here for nothing?" Harry asked, leaning his body fully against Severus, making his hips especially known.

"If only I had the control," Severus replied, leaning down to kiss his neck. Harry sighed. It had been far too long. "I insist our proper reunion wait for our bed."

"Okay." Harry would have said anything to keep that mouth and those hands on him.

"Tell me if—"

"Shut up and kiss me," Harry interrupted, and that was much more satisfying.

83

Harry's first night back at Hogwarts was very low-key. Neville, Severus, and Minerva engineered it so everyone knew Harry was coming back on the first Sunday in October, which was absolutely perfect as he was home on Friday night. He used the Floo gate into their quarters, then collapsed on the couch as Severus performed some complicated magic to remove them from the network. Generally speaking, his energy levels these days were nearly normal, but packing everything that had migrated to the hospital, going through all the paperwork, promising Severus (repeatedly) that he was well enough to come home, and then the Floo trip was enough to exhaust him.

"Harry, you look awful," Severus said when he finally turned around. "Do you need to go back?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "I'm just worn out. Thanks, by the way. Always assumed you found me attractive."

"Shut up," Severus replied, though he did smile a little. "I will send for dinner and we will eat here, yes?"

Harry nodded. Severus kissed his forehead before going into the kitchen and sending a message down to the kitchens. Harry had just enough energy to tap his overnight bag before lying back as it unpacked itself. Severus came in a moment later with a bowl of chicken soup for Harry and something that didn't smell nearly as good for himself. As soon as he finished eating Harry dragged himself to the bedroom and into his bed.

He let out a low moan. His bed. Merlin it was good. Wonderful. The mattress was soft, the pillows were soft, the blankets were warm, the bed smelled of Severus, and it was home. He barely noticed when Severus changed his day clothes into pajamas, though he did notice when he joined him in bed. Silk surrounded him. He'd forgotten about silk. Silk was good.

"It's not even eight," Harry muttered. "What're you doing in bed?"

"I failed to sleep last night," Severus replied, kissing just below his ear.

Harry frowned. "You do want me here, right? You weren't worried?"

"Only regarding your idiocy," Severus said. "I was working, ensuring I have no obligations this weekend."

Harry rolled over, ignoring the slight twinge in his ribs. "For me?"

Severus brushed his hair back and kissed him again. "For you."

Harry snuggled into Severus' arms, completely overcome with emotion and knowing he wouldn't want to see. "Thank you."

Severus stroked his back, making sure to steer clear of his ribs. "Do not expect such sentimentality to last."

Harry smiled. "No, that'd just be weird."

"But," Severus said slowly, pulling Harry closer before resting a hand on his lower back, "as long as I am already humiliating myself, there are perhaps a few more things to be said."

Harry tensed in anticipation, carefully keeping his gaze averted. "Oh?" he asked shakily.

"I missed you," Severus said quietly. "Falling asleep with you, holding you, kissing you."

"I missed you too," Harry whispered in awe.

"You terrify me," Severus continued. "I was certain you were going to die. When it became apparent that was not the case, I was sure you had sustained enough brain damage to—never mind, it is irrelevant. You were correct that I blame myself despite the rational evidence of knowing it was not my fault."

Harry pushed himself further into Severus' arms. "I'm here. I'm not dead."

"I am aware, I'm not stupid," Severus replied, though there was no venom in his voice. "More than that. It terrifies me I care so deeply. The last time—" He cut himself off. "I despise you, Harry Potter, for doing this to me."

"Sev…" Harry trailed off. He had no idea.

"Stop calling me that," Severus said irritably. "I'm trying to tell you something, stop interrupting." He didn't continue, and eventually Harry spoke up.

"Tell me what?"

There was a pause. "Do not leave," Severus demanded. "I love you. Do not leave me again."

Harry leaned up for a kiss, desperate for the contact. Severus obliged just as frantically.

"I never left," Harry said quietly when he broke away. "Not on purpose. I came back from the forest for you. I heard you telling me to breathe, and I did. I heard you and I felt you, your hands. I wanted my friends, but I wanted you more."

"You came far too close," Severus replied angrily. "I had no way of knowing any of that, not until I already knew you were safe."

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, kissing his neck.

"We have been together for four years," Severus said. "I do not believe there was any hatred by the time you came to me about your condition, though of course we were not what we are now. Twenty-two years you have been alive, twenty-one I have protected you, eleven years since you came to Hogwarts, four years we have lived together, and eight months of—of this. After all that time, how can you expect me to lose you?"

Harry was close to tears. "I don't. I'm here, and I'm never going to leave."

"I want—" Severus stopped, and this time Harry didn't prompt him. He would say what he needed to in time. It might not even be tonight, and Harry promised himself that he could handle that, that he could wait. He had already said so much, and Harry was still on the edge of tears. Severus could never say another word to him and it would be okay. Merlin, he loved him more than anything, and having Severus tell him he felt the same was completion.

Harry was nearly asleep when Severus started talking again.

"After four years, I would think you understand what living with me means," he said. "How difficult I am, how unpleasant I can be, how demanding I am, and my temper."

Harry frowned slightly in confusion. "Um, yeah. I still want to live with you."

A brief pause. "You are certain?"

Harry looked up at him. "Of course."

"You know everything I am, and you still love me?" Severus asked.

Harry kissed his jaw, the only part of his face he could reach. "Yes. Severus, what is this? I didn't have a run in with a dragon to get away from you."

Severus jerked away, glaring at him. "My opinion of myself is not so low, but thank you for assuring me that others believe so."

Harry flushed. "No, that's not what I meant, I wasn't—"

"Marry me," Severus interrupted. "I cannot lose you again."

Harry gaped at him. "I—what?"

Severus' eyes hardened. "Did you mishear me?"

"N—no, I just…" Harry trailed off. Was it possible he had fallen asleep and this was a dream triggered by being home again? Did he actually have brain damage from the dragon that had just taken a long time to show itself? Was it a trick? That didn't make any sense, but neither did this.

"Forget it," Severus said coldly. He completely removed himself from physical contact and rolled over, facing away.

"No, no, Sev, stop," Harry said frantically, scooting over to him and wrapping an arm around him, resting his chin on his shoulder. "Are you sure? You'll have to talk at the ceremony, you'd have to tell people, and there'd be stuff in the papers. You're private, and—Sev, you're so private, are you sure you want this? To share your life with me? Is this just a reaction to me almost dying? Because I don't want to lose you, either, but you shouldn't change your whole life because of one dragon."

"You think I have not thought this through?" Severus asked tightly. He didn't pull away, though. "How could you possibly think I would take this lightly? I despise speaking of such things, and yet, here I am. I have seen you close to death many times, and they were not followed by any declarations."

"But…"

"Potter, get off me," Severus said, trying to shrug him off. "Congratulations, you have learned why I am so private, why I despite talking. I am sure you and your friends will have a brilliant time laughing over my humiliation, so just get the fuck off."

"Severus!" Harry shouted, and he did sit up, but it had nothing to do with his request, at least not in the way he thought. "You think so low of me? How dare you think I'd do something like that? Did you honestly expect that would come as anything other than a shock? I've forced myself to never even consider the possibility because I knew it wouldn't happen, I would never ask you to do that for me. You've given me so much, and—" He broke off as he realized he was crying. "Do you mean it?"

Severus spun around, also sitting. "Of course I do. I am so glad that the thought of spending your life with me reduces you to tears; it is truly an honor to bring the great Golden Boy to his knees."

"Shut up!" Harry yelled. "You idiot, of course I will! I don't pretend to understand you, but if it's really what you want, nothing would make me happier."

"Then why are you crying?" Severus sneered, his walls up in full form.

"I don't know," Harry exclaimed. "Because you're yelling at me. Because I'm confused. I'm tired, and—and you're tired, you're sleep deprived, you shouldn't be saying things like that when you're so tired. Because I think you think you mean it, but I don't think you do, and I can't say yes if you're going to change your mind when you wake up and realize you've made a mistake."

"My sleep status has nothing to do with this!" Severus spat. "You think I made this decision now? I have spent months thinking this through, examining the weight, the significance, and the consequences from every possible angle. I have been considering the possibility since I told you I wanted to kiss you the night you froze yourself and we entered the current phase of our relationship. I told you at the time I do not take this lightly, and I do not know why you would think a proposal would warrant less consideration than a kiss. The idea was as intrusive as the result would be if you were to agree, and became more insistent the longer we have been together. I assure you this is not a passing fancy, and certainly not a mistake."

Harry was now crying so hard he could barely see. He had never been so scared in his life. He had faced down a dragon four months ago, defeated Voldemort four years ago, and, as Severus was so fond of saying, had nearly died more times than he could count. None of those could compare. He had rid himself of the idea; quarantined it, thrown it into a metal box that was dead bolted shut, locked it into the deepest vault in Gringotts, and then buried the whole thing under a cave in. After all of that effort, was it really possible that he could have it? The thought of undoing all of his work, work he hadn't even let himself consider he was doing because that would be admitting he wanted it in the first place, of letting himself believe and then having it pulled away at the last minute—he couldn't do that.

Why did Severus have to say something in the first place? Why couldn't things have just stayed the way they were? Harry was always the one pushing, needing more, and he finally understood how Severus must have felt each time he gave in, each breach of his walls. He was so tired, he just wanted a quiet night at home with the man he loved, and instead he was sobbing and Severus was looking at him with unbridled fury.

Harry wanted to say yes. He already had, sort of. All he wanted was yes, was I do, was bonding, was the promise of a life together.

"Have I ever once lied to you?" Severus hissed. "Have I given you any reason to question me? I would think the rarity of words at all would lend what I do say credibility, let alone something as large as this."

"I love you," Harry burst out, wiping his tears away. "Severus, please, I love you so much."

"Then what is the problem?" Severus asked, voice rising. "Do you plan on changing your mind?"

"Do you?" Harry challenged, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "That was stupid, you wouldn't ask if you were planning on it, but what if you do?"

Severus looked like he was torn between rage and exasperation. "I will not."

The surety with which he spoke was too much. Harry closed the distance between them, slamming himself against Severus—sending pain shooting through his ribs in the process—and holding him as tightly as he could. "Yes. Please, please yes. You said I terrify you, and the feeling is mutual. I love you so fucking much. I can't bear the thought of overwhelming you and pushing you away, but if you promise me, if you swear that won't happen, there's nothing I want more."

Severus hugged him back just as tightly. His lips found Harry's ear, brushing against the delicate skin as he whispered, "I promise."

"Can you—" Harry sniffled back the combination of tears and snot that were pouring down his face, resulting in a revolting noise and still covering Severus' shirt with slime. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess," he said, sort of laughing.

"It's okay," Severus replied soothingly, once again stroking his back. "Can I what?"

"Can you ask again?" Harry asked quietly. "So we can pretend we didn't have this fight and it was romantic and perfect?"

Severus smiled against his ear. "No."

Harry sniffled again and pulled back just enough to see his face. He looked beautiful: calm, sure, and loving. Harry was red and blotchy, adorned with his new scar as well as his lightening bolt, leaking glop down his face. Wonderful.

"Why not?"

"This was honest," Severus replied, magicking a handkerchief out of thin air and wiping his face. "It was real, and it was us. I will not base our relationship on a fabrication. It will serve us well to remember that even when we yell, even when it feels as if we are tearing ourselves apart, all is based in love."

Fresh tears leaked out. Thank Merlin Severus didn't talk like this more often; Harry wouldn't be able to function. "Right."

"Stop crying, I cannot clean this mess if you continue like this," he directed, and Harry laughed throatily.

"You're so sweet."

"I told you the sentimentality was momentary," Severus replied. "Hold still."

Harry did, letting Severus clean him. His Severus. His—fiancée? Really? They had never used traditional words, they'd just been whatever. Then again, this was the first at least vaguely traditional step they'd taken, so maybe it was all right. When Severus declared him presentable, the handkerchief vanished, as well as the mess on his shirt. That was good; Harry loved the silken pajamas far too much to see them go. Then he was being kissed, thoroughly and sensually, and Severus slowly lowered him until he was lying on the bed. Severus was careful to keep any weight off his injured ribs as they continued to kiss, as his hand slid below Harry's shirt to trace patterns along his chest and tease pebbled nipples, as Harry whimpered beneath him and ran his hands along Severus' back, arms, face, hair, anywhere he could reach.

The kiss was broken when Harry suddenly yawned. His eyes flew open, wide and embarrassed, and Severus looked at him in surprise before smiling sleepily and kissing his forehead.

"Another night," he said, drawing Harry into his arms.

"Tomorrow night," Harry clarified, curling against him. "Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow afternoon. Tomorrow evening. Then tomorrow night." He paused. "I'm going to call you Sev now. Not all the time, definitely not in public, but I think I've earned it."

Severus made a quiet noise of dissent. "We will talk tomorrow."

Harry smiled. "No, of all things we'll be doing, talking isn't one of them."

"Acceptable," Severus replied, finding his hand and twining their fingers together. It had been so long since they had slept like this, and Harry felt a part of himself fall back into place.

"I love you, whoever you are," he muttered, eyes closed and already halfway asleep.

"Insufferable brat."