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A very tanned Harry Potter arrived at Kings Cross Station with fifteen minutes to spare until the Hogwarts Express would depart Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The last month had been the best he’d ever spent away from Hogwarts, and for practically the first time ever, he was actually sorry to see the end of the summer holidays. 

Not that he wouldn’t be glad to see the aged castle, of course. 

He settled himself into an empty compartment, his trunk stored in the overhead compartment, and waited for his friends as he considered what the coming year would offer. It would undoubtedly be a different experience than usual; it would be his first ‘Voldemort-free’ year, since he was no longer a threat. 

Harry’s biggest worry would be the same as the rest of the seventh year students; NEWT exams. It was a strange—but very welcome—thought, and he was looking forward to his classes this year. 

It wasn’t long before Ron, Hermione and Neville joined him, and they were shortly followed by Ginny and Luna. 

The six of them exchanged tales of their summers happily. Ron and Hermione had to leave for a while for the Prefect meeting—led by Hermione, who was, of course, Head Girl this year—but they were only away for a little over an hour, and they made it back before the Trolley Lady made her appearance. 

It was nice to be around people who treated him like he was normal though. That was the only thing Harry wasn’t looking forward to. He’d spent most of his summer being anonymous in countries where his name didn’t cause an instant ruckus, and he wasn’t particularly looking forward to returning to the usual gawking and whispers. 

His friends knew exactly what had happened in the last battle with Voldemort, and they treated him just the same as they always had. Everyone else knew the broader story too—the Prophet had, against all odds, actually managed to report the truth for a change—but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t stare. 

If anything, it was more likely that they’d stare. He was the ‘saviour’ again, for however long it lasted. 

They were about three quarters of the way through the journey when the door slid open to reveal Malfoy. Not unusual, thought the fact that he was on his own—and looking rather nervous—was. 

“May I have a word, Potter?” he asked, glancing around the compartment warily. “In private?” 

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron and Hermione, who looked extremely curious, before he nodded his head. He left his seat and followed the Malfoy heir from the compartment into the corridor, closing the door behind him. He narrowed his eyes slightly as Malfoy pulled his wand out, but he didn’t try to stop him when he cast a privacy bubble around the two of them, before he stowed his wand away. 

“My mother has asked me to reach out to you, Lord Black,” Malfoy started. He couldn’t quite meet Harry’s eyes, but Harry wasn’t particularly surprised by that. “She wishes me to request that you reinstate her into the House of Black. As Lord Black, you are the only one who can.” 

Harry tilted his head slightly. He wasn’t as shocked as one might thing; Andromeda Tonks had been a great help to Harry, since he’d taken up his titles on his seventeenth birthday, and she’d explained to him that this might happen, though she’d expected Narcissa to send a letter, rather than use Draco to approach him. 

The Malfoy’s had been hit particularly hard by the Ministry—particularly financially, given they’d taken three quarters of all assets from them in reparation for Lucius’ crimes in the war—and nobody would be surprised to know that Narcissa wanted to jump ship, so to speak. 

“Just your mother, or does she expect me to accept Lucius and yourself as well?” Harry’s tone wasn’t combative, but it also wasn’t warm; given their history, he didn't think Malfoy would expect it to be. 

“My mother and myself, Lord Black. She would never expect you to accept my father, given his… actions in the war, and specifically against you personally. She acknowledges that she would be a fool to even ask.” 

Harry nodded shortly. “Okay. The request has been acknowledged. I’ll be in touch with her shortly, once I’ve spoken with my advisors. Is she currently in any kind of danger residing at Malfoy Manor?” 

“She’s not in danger,” Malfoy said, shaking his head. “My father has been forced to adorn a magic suppressing cuff by the Ministry that cannot be removed, lest he find himself in Azkaban. He presents no threat to her. I’ll tell her to expect your correspondence. Thank you for taking the time to consider it, Lord Black.” 

“Of course.” 

Harry nodded again, firmly this time, and then waved his hand to dispel the privacy bubble. Malfoy walked away, heading towards the back of the train, where the Slytherins usually occupied their own carriage, while Harry returned to the compartment his friends were sitting in. 

As soon as he entered, he was bombarded with questions, as he expected, and he snorted at his friends. Exchanging a very brief look with Ron and Hermione, promising them the full story later, he said, “He just wanted to call a truce, I guess. After everything, I think he just wants a quiet year. It’s not like it was unexpected, really.” 

Neville, Ginny and Luna seemed to take the answer at face value, and the conversation moved on. While there would always be certain things that Harry couldn’t tell Ron and Hermione about private family business, he would always tell them as much as he could. They deserved his honesty, if nothing else, after everything the three of them have faced together over the years. 

The rest of the journey to Hogwarts was uninterrupted, and the conversations easily carried them through until the Express pulled into Hogsmeade station, where the Thestral-drawn carriages awaited them. 

… 

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with his friends, smiling as the last of the new first years was sorted into Hufflepuff, to the cheers of those in yellow and black. He was more than ready for dinner, and he was also looking forward to going to bed. Despite not doing anything, the train ride to Hogwarts always seemed to tire him out. 

When the platters of food arrived, Harry smirked, but rolled his eyes when Ron immediately dived into them. Hermione shook her head at Ron, and anyone who knew them knew that she was about to start scolding him for his manners. Or lack of them. Instead of listening to that, Harry picked out his own food with a little more care, and then dug in. 

Once the food—and the dessert that followed—had disappeared from the tables, Harry listened to the conversations around him instead of joining them himself. He was exhausted, and was only waiting on the Headmaster’s speech so that he could go and tuck himself into his bed in the tower. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the ageing wizard to push himself to his feet. Silence fell in the Great Hall almost immediately, as every head turned towards the Headmaster. 

“It does an old man good to see so many eager faces looking back at me at the beginning of the school year, all waiting to discover everything they possibly can over the year to follow. To our returning students, welcome back, and to our new students, I wish you a very warm welcome to Hogwarts. 

“A few notices for our new students, though, of course, some of our returning students could use the reminders; the Forbidden Forest is named aptly, and it is forbidden for all students. Mr Filch has asked me to remind you all that the list of banned items includes all products sold at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, and the full list of banned items can be found on his office door.” 

There were a few quiet chuckles from the older students, and Harry noticed the bright twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes.  

“This year brings with it a new era; an era of peace and acceptance. That begins with all of you. It matters not if you are a first year, or a seventh year. You are the new generation, and it is you who will make our world grow into the future.

“House rivalries have always been considered harmless; that will no longer be allowed to stand. Quidditch is a healthy outlet for friendly rivalries, and from now on, will be your only outlet. We may all belong to our Houses, but beyond that, we are all occupants of Hogwarts, and the wider Wizarding world. 

“If you choose to try to continue the rivalries beyond the Quidditch Pitch, there will be consequences, be that detention, the loss of house points, suspension, or even expulsion, should that need arise. Bullying under the guise of ‘house pride’ will no longer be tolerated.

“I thank you for listening, and I’m sure that you’re all looking forward to your beds, so I won’t keep most of you any longer. Will our fifth and sixth year prefects please lead your houses—particularly your newest members—to your common rooms. Those of you in seventh year, if you could all remain behind, I’d like to speak to you. I bid the rest of you goodnight.” 

Dumbledore sat down in his throne-like chair, and though he had dismissed the students, nobody moved. Many of them were staring at him, gaping in shock. 

Harry stood slowly, and began to clap. He was soon joined by Ron, Hermione, and the rest of his friends, followed by the vast majority of the student body. 

It didn’t escape anybody’s notice that the house with the most students still in their seats was Ravenclaw. Harry glanced at Luna, who was smiling happily as she applauded along with everyone else. He knew that she’d suffered quite badly at the hands of her own housemates, and he hoped that this would mean an end to that. 

As the younger students began to leave the room, the seventh year students also stood and moved down their house tables so that they were all gathered closer to the head table. It didn’t take long until it was only them and the professors left in the Great Hall. 

The professors all left their seats and stepped down so that they were standing in a line before the house tables. Dumbledore smiled at them all. 

“This year, we’ve decided to reinstate one of Hogwarts’ oldest traditions. It hasn’t been utilised in more recent years, but we believe that it will help many of you to both progress in your studies, and also help to prepare you for life outside of the castle walls. 

“It may even give you a leg up on any future careers that you may wish to apply for.” 

His smile widened slightly. 

“The tradition in question is that of apprenticeships. Our professor’s names have been placed in a hat, and chosen at random to give the order of their choosing. Each of them will take their turn to choose the student they believe best fits their given subject. 

“If you do not wish to take part, then you are, assuredly, able to leave now. Keep in mind that this will mean a lot of extra work for you if you choose to proceed.” 

Crabbe and Goyle were the first to leave, followed by a handful of Hufflepuff students, two Ravenclaws, and Seamus and Lavender from Gryffindor. 

When the doors swung shut behind them, Dumbledore smiled again at those remaining. 

“Those of you who have chosen to stay may be encouraged to know that, as Apprentices, there are private accommodations prepared for you, should you wish to use them, along with a communal common room for you to share. There will also be certain freedoms allowed, such as the ability to leave the castle at will during select weekends.” 

Harry chuckled to himself, wondering how long it would take for Lavender and Seamus to go begging to Professor McGonagalls to accept them into the Apprenticeships. 

“Are there any questions, before the professors begin making their choices?” 

“What if we get picked for a subject that we have no love for?” Terry Boot asked, tilting his head slightly. Harry noticed his eyes flit to Snape and then away again. 

There were a few nods from the other students though, and it wasn’t a bad question. Harry liked most of his lessons enough, so he didn’t personally think that he would have too much of a problem, but he couldn’t imagine being chosen for Divination, or Potions. 

“You are, of course, free to refuse the offer, though you will not be offered another if you refuse.” 

There were no further questions, and everyone seemed to sit up in their seats, shoulders back, as they looked down the line of professors. 

“Severus, I believe that you were the first name chosen from the hat?” Dumbledore said, cheerfully, turning to the Defence professor as the students seemed to collectively hold their breath, waiting to see who their most hated professor would choose as his first apprentice. 

Snape sighed heavily, and then rolled his eyes at the Headmaster. “I’ll take Potter.” 

Harry looked up in shock—he’d been so sure that, despite him being the best in their year, that Snape would never choose him—meeting obsidian eyes as he did. A stab of pain in his stomach startled him, so much so that he almost missed the way Snape’s eyes widened as he cursed softly. 

Dumbledore sent a concerned glance Snape’s way, but nothing more was said as the other professors began making their choices. 

Hermione was chosen next for Ancient Runes, and Neville for Herbology. Slughorn took Malfoy—though nobody missed the looks he sent in the directions of both Harry and Hermione—and Flitwick chose Daphne Greengrass. Terry Boot was the first Ravenclaw to be chosen, his subject being Arithmancy. 

Harry stopped paying attention, his mind on the pain still throbbing in his stomach, though it had eased off some since the initial pain. His confusion didn’t ease when Snape refused a second pick, though he wasn’t at all surprised when the man declared that ‘one imbecile to look after is plenty’. 

When the professors were finished, Professor McGonagall asked the students to follow her—she would show them to their new lodgings—but Dumbledore requested that Harry remain with him. There were a few curious looks, but Harry paid them little mind. He was led up to the Headmaster’s office, followed by a very reluctant looking Snape. 

Why couldn’t things ever just be normal? 

… 

Harry sat in the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk, Snape sitting stiffly in the seat beside him, as questions whirled around in his head. Dumbledore was twinkling happily, while Snape had his head down, refusing to look at either one of them. 

“So… Do I have a choice?” Harry asked, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. It was the most important question right now, in his eyes. So many things had happened to him that hadn’t been his choice, after all. 

“What do you mean, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, frowning slightly. 

“The question was fairly simple, Albus,” Snape replied softly, though Harry thought that he could hear some sadness in his tone, which was… surprising. “Potter wants to know if he can run away screaming.” 

“That… wasn’t my question,” Harry pointed out. “My question was about the logistics of this. Is it forced, or do I actually have a choice to accept this or not. I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, Professor, but there’s a pattern of fate forcing me into things and laughing in my face all the while. I just want to know if this is one of those things.” 

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Snape snapped. “I’ve been waiting for…” He shook his head. “Since I was seventeen years old, Potter. Only to find out that it’s you, a young man who despises me—yes, for good reason, don’t interrupt—that I’ve been waiting for. Do you think that I’m happy?” 

“Here, Harry,” Dumbledore intervened, before they could start arguing. He was holding out a slim book. Harry took it reluctantly. “We’ll meet again to discuss the matter tomorrow evening, once you’ve had some time to process the situation and when you’ve learned a little more about the bond.” 

Harry glanced down at the title and groaned softly. So You’ve Found Out You're A Veela’s Mate…

“Fuck me,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

Standing up, he left the office without a backwards glance, only to curse again when he reached the bottom of the staircase and realised that he didn’t know where the new Apprentice rooms were. He was about to make his way to Gryffindor Tower when a chuckle sounded behind him. 

Harry gave the Headmaster a withering look, but then followed behind him when Dumbledore waved at him to do so. They walked up to the seventh floor, to a portrait he’d never seen—or simply never paid attention to—before. 

“The password to this portrait is Apprentice, and inside, there will be a private room with your name on it that you’ll have to set your own password for. Myself and Professor McGonagall have master override passwords for all of the rooms, just in case we need to check on you for your own health or safety.” 

Harry nodded, and was about to step through the first portrait when he stopped. 

“Headmaster, I… what am I supposed to do about… this?” he asked, holding the book up in front of them both. 

“Read the book, Harry,” Dumbledore replied softly, patting him on the shoulder. “It will help you to understand what is happening. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, straight after dinner. Sleep well.” 

“Goodnight,” Harry murmured wearily, before he let himself into the corridor that would be his new home. He’d been really hoping for a quiet year, but apparently, for him, that was impossible. 

… 

Severus looked around the Great Hall over the students, a warm feeling in his stomach. It was a feeling that he’d been waiting so long for, he hardly dared to believe that the moment had arrived at all. 

His mate had arrived at Hogwarts and had come of age. That meant that it had to be one of the seventh year students, and Severus looked at each of the house tables carefully, trying to get a hint of who it could be. 

He wouldn’t know until eye-contact was made between them , as was the way of his creature. 

Not that Severus was particularly worried. When the Apprentice choices came later, he would have a better chance of eye-contact with each of the students. Excitement bubbled inside of him as he anticipated the reveal. He couldn’t help but hope it was one of his snakes, but he supposed that a Ravenclaw wouldn’t be objectionable. Merlin forbid it be a Gryffindor, or, Severus shuddered slightly, a Hufflepuff. 

He paid little attention to the Sorting. He’d be able to familiarise himself with his newest students in due time, but he had more pressing matters to deal with right now. 

He ate blindly, not even really noticing what he was putting on his plate. 

He would have his answer soon enough, he knew, but he could hardly handle the anticipation. 

… 

“Severus, I believe you were the first name chosen from the hat?” 

Dumbledore was eyeing him with interest; none of the professors had discussed their choices, as far as Severus knew--he certainly hadn’t told anyone of his own plans. Severus could see the curiosity burning behind the twinkle. 

Inwardly chuckling at the way the students held their breath, Severus sighed heavily and rolled his eyes at the Headmaster. 

“I’ll take Potter.” 

It was a decision that Severus hadn’t taken lightly. Despite his mixed feelings about Potter—both senior and junior—Severus couldn’t deny that for Defence Against the Dark Arts, there was only one logical first choice, and really, there could be no other. It would completely undermine the whole point of the apprenticeships. 

Potter truly did have a talent, and was miles ahead of his year-mates. The whole point of the tradition was to encourage the best at what they were best at, and Severus was a stickler for tradition. 

He looked over at the brat and found himself staring into the emerald green eyes of the Boy-Who-Refused-To-Die when his head shot up in surprise. Clearly the boy hadn’t thought that Sevrus would put his own feelings aside. 

The warmth in his stomach intensified when their eyes met, and he felt his whole body shock as his creature recognised its mate. He watched as Potter gasped slightly, his hand moving to his stomach, proving that he’d felt the initial effect of the bond solidifying between them. 

“Fuck,” Severus muttered lowly, turning his head away from his mate. 

This had to be some kind of cruel cosmic joke that fate had decided to play on him, just the latest in a whole list of them. It had been the one thing that Severus had held onto through the years, the only thing that had gotten him through the war at all. 

He saw the Headmaster look his way and he knew that the old man had figured out what had happened almost as soon as Severus had. 

Severus ignored him, and paid no mind to what was going on with the rest of the professors picking their students. He was shocked out of his thoughts when Dumbledore called his name, but he quickly realised that it had just circled around to him again. 

There was absolutely no way Severus could take on another Apprentice. 

He would be in a big enough mess when Potter rejected the bond, never mind being forced to deal with more than one annoyance. 

“One imbecile to look after is plenty, thank you, Albus. I have no need to add even more to my workload.” 

He put as much sarcasm into his voice as he could, and he almost laughed out loud when he saw the resentment and misery flash across Weasley’s face. As if he would have chosen that particular menace even if he had wanted a second Apprentice. 

As soon as the choices were finished, Severus planned to escape to the sanctuary of his dungeon home, but when he heard Albus call for Potter to remain behind, he knew that he would not be allowed to make his escape. 

As much as he wished that he could simply ignore the matter at hand and stalk off regardless, he acknowledged, if only in his own mind, that Potter had a right to know what was happening to him. Besides, it would be better to get the pain of the rejection out of the way as soon as possible. 

There was no point in needlessly stringing things out. 

… 

Severus listened, sitting stiffly in the seat he’d been forced to sit in, with his head down and his gaze averted, as Albus explained about Severus’ heritage to Potter. The boy—young man, Severus reminded himself—sat in stunned silence, though he did appear to actually be paying attention. 

When the explanation was finished, Severus could feel Potter’s eyes on him, but he refused to look up at him. Why would he put himself through the familiar feeling of self-hatred, when he saw the disgust staring at him from his own mate? 

“So… Do I have a choice?” Potter asked, and Severus’ heart sank in his chest. He’d know what was coming, but it didn’t stop it from hurting. 

When Albus questioned what Potter meant, Severus beat him to an answer, though he didn't manage to be as scathing as he’d have liked; he hoped that neither Potter nor Albus could hear the sadness in his tone. 

“The question was fairly simple, Albus,” he said, his lips twisting slightly. “Potter wants to know if he can run away screaming.” 

“That… wasn’t my question,” Potter said, confusing Severus. “My question was about the logistics of this. Is it forced, or do I actually have a choice to accept this or not? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Professor, but there’s a pattern of fate forcing me into things and laughing in my face all the while. I just want to know if this is one of those things.”

Severus was surprised to hear very little anger in Potter’s reply, he’d expected more. He’d sounded more… bitter than angry, and Severus could surely understand that. He was excellent at being bitter, he’d spent much of his life intimately acquainted with it. It was also surprising how much Potter’s words about fate matched Severus’ earlier thoughts; almost perfectly mirrored, in fact. 

Severus wondered if Potter thought that Severus was happy about the situation, and he couldn’t help but ask, a little sharper than he intended. 

“Do you think this is easy for me? I’ve been waiting for… since I was seventeen, Potter. Only to find out that it’s you, a young man who despises me—yes, for good reason, don’t interrupt—that I’ve been waiting for. Do you think I’m happy?” 

Before Potter could say anything in reply, Dumbledore intervened and handed Potter a book about being a Veela’s mate. He listened as the Headmaster arranged another meeting, and anger rose inside him. What business was it of the old man anyway? Shaking his head as Potter left and Albus followed behind him, chuckling, Severus stood up. He waited a few moments, to give them time to clear the corridor, before he too left the office, though it was for the sanctuary and safety of his own private quarters. 

He needed a drink. Desperately. 

… 

Harry lay on his back, staring up at the canopy of his bed. The book Dumbledore had given him sat—unread—on his bedside table, but every time Harry turned over to pick it up, nausea washed over him. 

He’d tried his best to go to sleep, hoping that a few hours of rest would help him to process things, but he hadn’t managed more than an hour. It was the middle of the night, and Harry was very much procrastinating as he tried to work things out. He still couldn’t quite make himself believe it. 

He couldn’t be Snape’s mate. 

It had to be a prank, or a mistake, or something. 

The thought chased itself around Harry’s mind, refusing to leave him. There had to have been some kind of mix up, right? Except, the pain in his stomach said probably not, and he was still feeling the after effects of it, though it wasn’t particularly bad now. 

He also couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around Snape being a Veela. 

Harry had always believed that Veela were beautiful… and very female. 

He’d never even heard of a male Veela before, never mind met one. He hadn’t realised they even existed. As for beautiful… well, Snape may not be the most horrible person to look at—there was something strikingly regal about him—but he’d never exactly been what one could call beautiful. 

Pulling himself together, Harry picked up the book and, ignoring the nausea, opened it to the first page. He knew that he had to be prepared for the meeting in the Headmaster’s office after dinner. Merlin only knew how Snape would react if Harry turned up just as clueless as he’d been at the first meeting. 

… 

A knock on the portrait guarding Harry’s room shook him from sleep. The Veela book lay haphazardly on his chest, and he was still wearing his glasses. 

“What?” he shouted, unwilling to drag himself out of bed just yet. If it was up to him, he would remain there for the rest of the day. 

“Are you coming to breakfast?” Ron’s voice called back, and Harry groaned quietly. 

Closing his eyes for a split second, he replied, “Give me fifteen minutes, mate. I’ll meet you down there, if you want?” 

“We’ll wait,” Ron called, knocking once on the portrait. Harry heard two sets of footsteps move away from the portrait and forced himself to sit up. 

He knew that he couldn’t hide himself away forever, as much as he wished that he could. It wouldn’t solve anything. Taking a quick shower—and he really loved that they all had private bathrooms attached to their rooms—he dressed and left the room, leaving the Veela book beneath his pillow. 

He left his bag; there was no point taking any books with him, when he didn’t know what classes he was going to have. 

“What did the Headmaster want last night?” Hermione asked, as she, Ron and Harry stepped out into the corridor of the seventh floor. 

“It’s…” Harry shook his head. “I can’t tell you yet.” 

“Why not?” Ron asked, frowning slightly. 

“I have to go to his office again later, after dinner. I’ll ask then if I can tell you about it. It’s not my secret to tell, and I won’t break confidences like that, it wouldn’t be fair,” Harry said, after a pause. 

He didn’t want his friends to be mad at him for keeping secrets, but he really couldn’t spread Snape’s business around like that. 

Mate or not, creature inheritances were private unless an individual chose to announce themselves to the public. Even Harry knew that much. 

“I can tell you what Malfoy really wanted on the train yesterday, though.” 

Knowing that he’d piqued their interest, Harry spent the rest of the walk down to the Great Hall telling his friends about his conversation with Malfoy. He made a mental note to write to Andromeda about it at his first opportunity. He really should have done it the night before, but it had gone completely out of his mind. 

“So, the ferret will be leaving you alone this year then,” Ron commented, looking slightly impressed. “He’ll have to, if his mother is hoping that you’ll take them back into the family.” 

“I think we’re all old enough to leave stupid rivalries behind now,” Hermione pointed out. “We have more important things to think about.” They sat down at the Gryffindor table, and at the other end, Harry could see that Professor McGonagall had already started handing out the schedules. “Between studying for NEWTs and whatever we’re going to be doing as Apprentices, do you really think that we’ll have time to play stupid games with the Slytherins?” 

Ron shrugged, picking at the nearest platter of bacon.” Sure, Hermione. I didn’t say that I wanted to carry it on, I was just pointing out that Malfoy will be holding his tongue.” Ron rolled his eyes at Harry. “I can’t believe that you’re going to be stuck on your own with Snape for most of the year, mate.” 

Harry snorted. “I guess at least it’s a subject I like.” He glanced across the Hall to where Snape was handing out schedules to the Slytherins, chatting easily with them as he did. 

He’d changed since the end of the war, Harry could acknowledge. There was a lightness about him that had never been there before, at least in the time Harry had known him. Not surprising, really, given the role he’d taken on during the war, but it was still kind of interesting to see the difference. 

McGonagall reached them, and she rested her hand on Harry’s shoulder, leaning just slightly. 

“The seventh years have the day off of lessons today, so that you can all have the opportunity to meet with your apprentice masters and prepare for the week ahead. Harry, the Headmaster has informed me that you’re to go to his office this evening instead of Professor Snape’s, as he has something to discuss with you. Another time will be arranged for your apprentice meeting.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry replied, smiling at his Head of House. 

She tapped her wand to three sets of parchment and then handed over their timetables. Harry looked over his own and noticed that he had double free periods every afternoon. He frowned and looked at Hermione’s—she had a double period just before dinner—and Ron’s—he had a double free period before lunch. 

“The empty double periods are your apprentice times, though of course, your master or mistress may wish for you to work extra in the evenings,” McGonagall informed them. 

She squeezed Harry’s shoulder briefly before she continued along the table to the last few people who’d made their way into breakfast late. 

“Every day!” Ron exclaimed, looking thoroughly disgruntled. “I thought that this was supposed to help us, not bloody kill us!” 

“A bit of extra work won’t kill you, Ron,” Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes at him. 

“It might,” Ron muttered darkly, before he turned his attention to his breakfast. 

Harry ignored the pair of them, far too used to their bickering to take them seriously. Instead, he looked back down at the parchment. 

Two extra periods a day with Snape. 

Bloody hell. 

… 

The day passed by quickly, and yet the time seemed to drag. Harry barely ate at dinner, his attention focused on the head table, which he watched from the corner of his eye, waiting for the Headmaster to leave the table so that he could get the meeting over with as quickly as possible. 

Everything he’d read in the book was floating around in his head, but he’d managed to process enough of it to have the simplest of plans to at least get them through the next few weeks, until he really sorted out how he felt about things. 

He was still unsure what he truly thought about the whole ‘being a Veela’s mate’ thing, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow Snape to be in so much pain when, according to the book, a little daily skin-to-skin contact with Harry could save him from it. They would be spending the time together anyway, so it wasn’t even like Harry had to go out of his way. 

He wondered what Snape would think of the plan, wondered if he would be disgusted by the idea of touching Harry at all. 

And then he wondered why he cared so much about what Snape thought in the first place. He’d never worried about what the man thought about him before. 

He tapped the table impatiently until eventually, Dumbledore excused himself. Muttering a promise to Ron and Hermione to see them in the morning, Harry left the table and walked across the Hall and through the double doors, almost running to catch up with the Headmaster. 

He’d hoped that he would manage to arrive before Snape, so that he could explain his plan to Dumbledore first and see if it was okay, rather than immediately being called an imbecile by the Defence Professor without any back-up. 

It wasn’t to be though, and Harry cursed his luck as he arrived at the stone Gargoyle guard only seconds before Snape. Standing back so that the Professor could go ahead of him, he was surprised as, with a graceful gesture of his hand, Snape allowed him to go first. 

Walking up the stairs, Harry could feel the nausea from the night before returning in full, and he swallowed hard before he pushed open the door to the Headmaster’s office. 

It was time to face the magic. 

… 

Harry sat in the same chair as he had the previous evening, growing increasingly uncomfortable in the tense silence. Snape sat beside him again, and as the night before, his eyes were averted, seemingly fixated on a random spot on the wall behind Dumbledore’s head. 

Dumbledore, however, seemed as happy as ever, sucking on a lemon drop and smiling as if he was having the time of his life. 

Just as Harry opened his mouth to break the silence, Dumbledore spoke. 

“Did you read the book, dear boy?” he asked, merrily, irritating Harry in the process. 

One would think that they were discussing the weather, rather than something that would affect the rest of Harry’s life. 

“Yes, Sir,” he replied, scowling at the old man. 

“And what did you think of it?” 

“Oh, I think that I was right yesterday,” Harry replied, airily, rolling his eyes disrespectfully. “Fate is somewhere laughing it’s arse off.” 

If the Headmaster wasn’t going to take things seriously, then he could bugger off. Beside him, Snape snorted, and Harry glanced his way, unable to stop the small smile when he met the older man’s eyes for the first time that evening and saw real amusement in them. 

“Really, Harry! I expected you to take this more seriously,” Dumbledore chastised, a small frown on his face as he looked disapprovingly at Harry. 

Harry blinked at him. “My apologies, Sir. If this actually affected you in any way, you might understand my opinion on the matter, rather than pretending that it’s no more important than discussing what you had for lunch today.” 

When Harry arched his eyebrow pointedly, Dumbledore had the good grace to look sheepish. 

“I believe it is I who owes the two of you an apology,” he said, after a moment. “I’ll endeavour to be more understanding, going forwards. What are your thoughts on the matter now that you further understand it, Harry?” 

“I still think it’s completely ridiculous,” Harry replied, shrugging. “But I also understand that these things can’t be helped. I won’t allow Professor Snape to go insane just because I’m freaking out about the… situation.” 

“Oh?” Dumbledore asked, arching his eyebrow slightly. “You have a plan, Harry?” 

“Of sorts, I suppose, though how much of a plan it is is up for debate. If Professor Snape will allow it—though I don’t really suppose either of us have much of a choice—while we’re spending the time in his office for my apprenticeship studies, we can… I don’t know, hold hands or something. It said in the book that skin-to-skin contact is essential during the early months of a new bond, and if we don’t do it, then it will cause Professor Snape a considerable amount of pain. I don’t want that.” 

“Why would you put yourself out?” Snape asked, his voice quiet. “Esepcially for me, of all people.” 

Harry twisted his lips thoughtfully for a second before he answered. “Partially because I would never allow anyone to go through pain if I had the ability to stop it,” he said, softly. “And partially because there isn’t a way out of this, so I may as well make it easier on both of us and be reasonable about it.” 

“But there is a way out of this for you,” Snape stressed. “Potter, you have absolutely no obligations here. I am perfectly capable of handling a bit of pain.” 

Harry could tell that Snape didn’t want Harry to do this out of pity, and he understood that. He often felt the same way; he’d never accept anything if he thought that someone pitied him. Oddly, pity was the last thing that Harry was feeling for Snape though. 

“There isn’t a way out,” Harry reiterated, softly. “And I accept that, even if the rest of it may take me a while longer. But if you really think so little of me that you believe that I would leave you in pain when I can help, then you really don’t know me very well, Professor.” Harry looked away from Snape to the Headmaster. “May I leave? I have a headache, and I didn’t sleep very well last night. I’d like to catch up so that I’m fresh for lessons beginning tomorrow.” 

“Of course, Harry,” Dumbledore replied, nodding his head. He offered Harry a small smile, this one more sincere than his pretense of earlier. “I’m proud of you. You’re handling yourself very well.” 

Harry nodded to the Headmaster and returned the smile, before he turned to Snape. 

“I know that the pain is probably at least creeping in by now. If it gets unreasonable during the night, my password is Orchid. If not, then I guess I’ll see you in the morning, in Defence, Sir. Goodnight.” 

… 

Severus watched Harry leave the office with mixed feelings. He was surprised by the boy—young man—he couldn’t deny that. Nothing he’d seen from Potter in the past made Severus believe that he’d be anything but difficult about the situation, and yet, here he was, doing his best to ensure that Severus didn’t feel any pain. 

Hope bloomed in his chest, and no matter how hard he tried to push it away, it stayed, as stubborn as Potter himself. 

“He really is something, isn’t he, Severus?” Albus asked, pulling Severus from his thoughts. 

“He’s… unexpected,” Severus admitted quietly. “I don’t know what I was expecting from him, but it certainly wasn’t… that.” 

“He’s a surprising young man, and he’s maturing faster than I think any of us expected. I think that the two of you will be well suited.” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Albus.” 

Albus rolled his eyes at Severus playfully, but he inclined his head. “As you wish. Why don’t you retire for the evening, Severus? Tomorrow will be another day, after all.” 

Feeling a little like he was being sent to bed before curfew, but not actually wanting to remain with the Headmaster, Severus nodded and stood up. With a quiet ‘goodnight’, he left for his own rooms, where he would undoubtedly sleep as fitfully as he had the night before, his disjointed dreams filled with emerald eyes and caring words that Severus didn’t dare to believe. 

… 

After spending the evening holed up in his bedroom, Harry woke up feeling much better. He met Ron and Hermione outside of their rooms, and the three of them laughed and joked all the way down to breakfast. 

Neither of them asked him about what was going on, though he could tell that they were both curious, and he vowed to himself that he would see if he could have permission to tell them what was happening when he spoke to Snape later that day, when they met to discuss his apprentice studies. 

Before that, however, he had to get through a Defence class. 

He wondered how Snape would treat him in front of others now. Would he be his usual acerbic self, or would he have done a dramatic one-eighty and be nice to Harry? 

Harry wasn’t sure which option he would prefer, if he was honest. It would be weird if the man started being nice to any of the students. 

Putting it out of his mind, because he wouldn’t find out until he arrived at the class, Harry concentrated on his breakfast. 

“How were your apprentice meetings yesterday?” he asked. 

“Professor Babbling was great,” Hermione gushed, happily. “She’s going to have me grading the younger years, and she’ll be teaching me extra things that are beyond NEWT level. She said that she thinks I have an amazing chance at being selected by the Department of Mysteries when we leave school!” 

“Hagrid was Hagrid,” Ron said, shrugging lightly. 

Harry snorted. 

“He’s going to have me helping out when he goes to collect creatures and stuff though,” Ron added. “So I bet that I’ll learn a lot by doing that. I was thinking of maybe going to work with Charlie, at least for the summer, after we graduate.” 

Harry stared at his friend. “You’ve gone off joining the Aurors?” 

“Not really. But, I mean, there are other things, right? And I just… I think that I wanted it so that we could do it together, rather than because I specifically wanted to be an Auror, mate. And I don’t think you’re still looking at the Auror Academy as an option, are you?” 

Harry shrugged. “I’m not sure. It still definitely is an option, but it’s not the only option.” 

Ron nodded. “Exactly.” 

Hermione checked her watch and picked up her bag. “We should go, you know that Snape will throw a fit if we’re late on the first day back. Especially you, Harry.” 

Harry nodded and picked up his own bag, Ron following suit. 

“You should think about looking into teaching, mate,” Ron suggested, as they left the Great Hall. “Look at what you did with the DA. I think you’d be brilliant at it.” 

Harry blinked. “I… you think that I could do it?” 

Ron rolled his eyes. “You helped half of the class make corporeal Patronuses in our fifth year, Harry. You’d be great at it.” 

“You enjoyed it, too,” Hermione pointed out, smiling slightly. “You were always smiling when someone got a spell right.” 

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Huh.” 

Neville caught up with them as they reached the classroom, and the four of them took seats towards the back of the classroom. Harry wasn’t trying to hide, really. He knew that Snape would likely be in pain because of their bond, and he didn’t want to be even more of a distraction if he could help it. 

Snape billowed into the classroom shortly after the last student took their seat, and he glared around at all of his students. 

“As you are in your final year here, I will be expecting a lot from you this year, both in your practical work in the classroom, and in your written work. If you, at any moment in the year, drop below an A average in this class, you will be told to leave with no chance of returning. This is your only warning.” 

He looked around at them. 

“The utter lack of even half-decent teachers in this subject has, of course, had an effect on your learning, but that will not be accepted as an excuse with me. If you try to use it as such, you will be given a week’s detention with Filch. 

“Now. Today, I want to see Patroni. I expect all of you to—at the very least—produce vapour before the end of class. Who can already cast a corporeal Patronus?” 

Harry raised his hand, as did everyone who’d been in the DA in their fifth year. Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass also raised their hands. 

“Potter, what is the main principle of the Patronus charm?” 

“A happy memory to combat the darkness of the Dementors, which is the main purpose of a Patronus, Sir,” Harry replied, respectfully. 

“And what shape will a Patronus take?” 

“I can’t answer that for anyone else, Sir. Patronuses are extremely personal, and will be different for everyone.” 

“Good. Come up and show us your Patronus, Potter.” 

Harry walked to the front of the class, slipping his wand from the holster on his arm into his hand as he did so. His mind on his summer vacation, he waved his wand and wordlessly, Prongs appeared in the classroom. 

Snape arched his eyebrows slightly. “Wordless, Mr Potter?” 

“Yes, Sir. Only when I conjure him to send messages. I wouldn’t try it if I was near a Dementor, though.” 

“Nor should you. Well done, Mr Potter. Since you are my apprentice, and this class would be woefully boring for you, given how thoroughly you’ve mastered the charm, you can help the students who have yet to have any success with it.” 

Harry nodded, and then sat off to the side in the seat Snape had gestured to him while he finished his lecture. When he was done talking, Harry moved towards the Slytherin and Ravenclaw students, but was called back before he could reach them. 

“Potter? Twenty points to Gryffindor for a good bit of magic.” 

Harry smiled before he continued on his way to the students who hadn’t yet learnt the Patronus charm. 

… 

When class was over, Harry remained behind as the students left. Towards the end of the lesson, he’d seen Snape wince a few times, and he knew that the stubborn git was in pain, even if he refused to ask for help. 

Silently, he walked to the Professor’s desk and held out his hand. 

Snape stared at him for a moment and then sighed, seemingly in defeat. He took the hand that Harry offered as Harry perched himself on the edge of the desk so that it wasn’t completely awkward. 

“Thank you,” Snape muttered quietly, as the pain immediately began to dissipate. 

“I can only stay for a few minutes,” Harry replied, softly. “I have Charms. But this will be enough to hold you over until later, right?” 

“Yes, it’ll be fine. You really shouldn’t worry so much, Potter. I’ve told you, I can handle the pain.” 

“Why bother though, if you don’t have to?” Harry asked. “I won’t try and force my touch on you, Professor, not that I could, but it’s there whenever you need it.” 

Snape nodded slightly, before he released Harry’s hand. “You should get to Charms, Potter. I’ll see you this afternoon, for your apprentice time.” 

Harry picked up his bag and made his way to the door of the classroom. He paused, his hand on the handle, and turned back. “You should know, Sir, that I’m not doing this because I pity you, or out of some stupid sense of duty. I’m doing it because I want to. If I didn’t want to, then I wouldn’t offer.” 

He left without waiting for an answer, leaving behind a shocked Severus Snape, once more deep in thought, as Harry walked quickly to his next class. 

… 

Harry knocked briefly on the door of the office before entering. Snape was sitting at the desk, waiting for him, with a pile of parchment spread out in front of him. Harry took the seat that had been placed on the other side of the desk, and smiled in greeting, putting his arm down on the desk, palm side up, in silent offer. 

He watched as Snape placed his own hand in Harry’s, seemingly without any hesitation this time. 

“Potter, we should have done this part last night, but as we were… otherwise occupied, we’ll have to play a little bit of catch up. I have an idea of what some of the other Professors are doing with their own students, and you’ll be doing much the same, but with a few differences.” 

Harry nodded his understanding, doing his best to concentrate on the subject at hand, and not on the fact that his and Snape’s hands seemed to fit together like two matching puzzle pieces. 

“You’ll be marking the essays of the first through fourth years, helping me with the preparation of the course material, and, when you have free periods that correspond with my lessons, you’ll be in the classroom with me as an assistant. I believe that you have two free periods in the early afternoon on most days, some of which correspond with my first and second year classes.” 

Harry nodded again. He was a little surprised that Snape was going to trust him in the classroom, but he supposed that he shouldn’t have been, after his own Defence lesson that morning. 

“The Headmaster and I had a little chat at lunchtime, after I observed you in the classroom with your peers in your own lesson, and I have… an addition to the apprenticeship, if you would like to hear it?” 

“Of course, sir,” Harry replied, curious. 

“Professor Slughorn has decided that he’d like to resume his retirement, now that the Dark Lord is no longer a threat. He’s promised Albus that he will stay for the remainder of this year and next, but then he’ll be done with teaching. The Headmaster has asked that I return to teaching potions when he leaves, something I am more than happy to do. It will be an easy transition for me, back to the subject that I, despite popular opinion, enjoy above all others.” 

Wondering if this was going where he hoped it might, Harry remained silent. 

“We both—myself and the Headmaster—believe that you would make an exceptional Professor. The way that you worked with your ‘army’ in your fifth year led to the highest OWL results we’ve seen in a good few years. Indeed, the way that you worked this morning convinced me that you are in your element when teaching. 

“During your apprentice studies, I propose that I will help you begin training for a Defence Against the Dark Arts mastery, something that, once you have earned it, would guarantee you a place at this school should you want it. The Governors and then Ministry that may refute or disapprove of such an appointment because of your young age wouldn’t be able to argue against it if you had a Mastery in your chosen subject.

“Next year, you would continue to work on your Mastery while remaining here at the school as my assistant. You would, hopefully, be prepared to take over as my successor as the Defence professor when I move back to Potions.”

Harry’s jaw dropped open slightly, and Snape’s lips tilted up in amusement. 

“In your Defence lessons this year, you will work separately from your classmates unless the lesson is on something which you have no knowledge of. Of course, if any of this is unappealing to you, then the matter will be dropped and we will continue with the usual apprenticeship.” 

Harry didn’t know what to say. It was peculiar that Ron had only just been talking about Harry becoming a teacher earlier in the day. It all seemed rather unreal, almost like a dream. Could he really do it? Could he really be a teacher? 

Of course, Ron and Hermione had been correct; teaching had felt amazing. He’d been so proud of the DA every time they mastered something new, and it made him happy to know that he’d been a part of that. He couldn’t say that he’d never considered teaching, but he’d always thought of it as something he would do later. Perhaps after a few years at the Ministry or something. 

“Before I answer,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “Are you doing this because you truly believe that I can do it, or are you doing it to please your Veela’s desire to make me happy?” 

Harry tilted his head slightly, curious about Snape’s answer. He watched as surprise flitted across the Defence instructor’s face for a moment, before the man actually smiled at him. 

“I’m doing it because I believe that you’ll be a very competent teacher, Harry. If I didn’t think that you could excel at it, I wouldn’t have offered, Veela nature be damned. Though… the fact that it does satisfy the Veela side of me is… a nice benefit?” 

Harry chuckled, he couldn’t help himself. “Then thank you for the offer, Sir. How long do I have to make a decision?” 

“If you’re happy to do as I suggested for this year, then you have until the end of the school year to decide if teaching is something that you wish to pursue while you’re so young. It would be a good idea to sit on the idea for a while, and really think about it. Take the time to see if it’s something that you believe you would enjoy for a good portion of your life.” 

Smiling, Harry nodded his head. “I’m happy to do as you suggested for this year, Sir. I’ll take the time to think about the rest.” 

Snape nodded, seemingly content with Harry’s decision, and he pushed the parchment forward so that it was between them. 

“These are the lesson plans for the term. We’ll spend the rest of today’s session—and more likely tomorrow’s session—going over them to make sure that you know about everything I will be teaching this term. I need to ensure that you have the necessary knowledge to grade the essays that will be due by the end of the week.” 

“You’ve already given out homework? It’s no wonder the students love you,” Harry said, smiling. 

Snape snorted. 

“I didn’t earn the title of the school’s most hated Professor for nothing, Harry.” 

“Why do I get the feeling that you appreciate that title, Sir?” 

“Probably because I do,” Snape replied, a small smirk on his face. He looked decidedly smug, which Harry found amusing. “And… I believe, during our apprentice studies, you… may call me Severus. If we’re to hold hands, I’d much prefer to be on a first name basis.” 

… 

Harry lay on his bed on his stomach, kicking his legs behind him. He was making his way through the first year essays, and sweet Merlin but they were so dumb. Not that he’d ever say as much out loud, of course, but some of their answers were enough to make Harry actually laugh. 

The days following their first apprenticeship meeting had gone as well as the first, and Harry had been surprised to find that they could co-exist without arguing. Harry was always the first to offer his hand, though there was absolutely no hesitation on Severus’ part when he reached out to slot their fingers together now. The conversation had flowed easily between them, often veering off the lesson plans and into the more advanced material that Harry would be learning as he studied for his mastery. 

The free periods that Harry had first believed he would be able to use for his own homework were taken up with assisting in the first and second year classes, but Harry found that he wasn’t mad about it. It cut into his time quite badly, but in only a few days, he’d come to the realisation that this really did make him happy. 

He had already decided that he would be accepting the offer of the teaching job, though he had yet to tell anyone. He hadn’t even told Ron and Hermione that the offer had been made yet. He hadn’t wanted them to get excited for him, only for him to then decide that he didn’t want it. 

He also still hadn’t told his friends about the bond between himself and Severus. He had permission; Snape had been expecting him to tell them immediately, and had, in fact, been surprised that Harry hadn’t already told them. He’d asked that they keep it quiet, but Harry wasn’t particularly worried about that. He’d assured Severus that his friends would never do anything to hurt him, even if they didn’t like what he was telling them. 

Harry was just finishing up an essay when there was a knock on the door to his room. Too lazy to get up, he waved his hand at it to open it for Ron and Hermione. He knew that it would be them; he’d been waiting for them to ‘ambush’ him since he’d said that he would try and get permission to tell them what was going on. 

He was actually quite impressed that they’d waited this long to ask him about it. 

Settling themselves onto Harry’s bed, Ron and Hermione looked expectantly at their friend. 

“I guess you want to know what’s going on?” Harry asked, grinning slightly. 

He laughed at the identical ‘well, duh!’ looks he got in return. 

“I… Snape is half Veela,” he forced out, after a moment. “And, apparently, I’m his mate.” 

He cringed a little, waiting for the explosion that… never came. 

“You’re a Veela’s mate?” Ron asked, smiling slightly. “Lucky sod.” 

Hermione nodded, clearly sharing the same view. This was… unexpected. Harry was very confused. 

“You’re not mad?” he asked, frowning slightly. 

Was it weird that he was feeling slightly let down at such a mild reaction? 

“Mad? Why would we be mad?” Hermione asked, arching her eyebrow at him. “It’s an honour to be a Veela mate, Harry, surely you know that?” 

Harry nodded. “I read about it after I was told, I just… I guess I was expecting a more, uh, visceral reaction? Veela or not, it’s still Snape we’re talking about.” 

Ron shook his head, an easy smile on his face. “We’re happy for you, mate, Snape or not. Is this what all the sneaking around at the beginning of the week was about?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding. “Snape didn’t know that it was me until our eyes met at the student choosing… thing, on our first night back.” 

“Oh. Of course,” Hermione murmured. “That would have been the first time he’d seen you since you turned seventeen, wouldn’t it? Well. Congratulations, Harry.”

“Thanks. I… you can’t say anything about this to anyone. He wants to keep it a secret as far as possible, and I feel like that’s his right. He’ll tell people when—or if—he’s ready.” 

“Of course.” 

“Sure.” 

Kreacher appeared in the room with a platter filled with snacks, and Harry blinked at him before he thanked the elf gratefully. He still marvelled at house-elves’ ability to know what their ‘masters’ needed before they were even asked for it. Ron and Hermione reached for the sweet treats. 

“So, what’s going on with the Malfoy’s request for Sanctuary?” Hermione asked. 

“I’ve got a meeting with Andromeda this weekend,” Harry replied, shrugging. “She’ll tell me the best way to proceed, and explain my options. It’s her family at the end of the day; I tried to convince her to take the title, but she wouldn’t. She keeps insisting that I’m the best choice for Head of House, stubborn bat. She’s doing most of the work, she should get the reward for it.” 

“You are the best choice, Harry,” Hermione replied, shaking her head. “Andromeda is right. Sirius wanted it to be you anyway. And just think about the power that will come with the double seat on the Wizengamot, when you’re done with school. Think about the effect that you could have on the world.” 

Harry couldn’t fault her argument, just like he hadn’t been able to fault Andromeda, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

“Are you doing anything after you get back tomorrow? The Headmaster said that we can have this weekend free, so there’s a plan to head into Hogsmeade to check out that new bar that opened in the summer,” Ron said, after swallowing a particularly large bit of the apple pie he was happily making quick work of. 

“I have to go and see Severus,” Harry replied, not really sure how to bring up the fact that their once most hated professor now needed his touch to remain without pain. 

It turned out, he didn’t have to. 

“He needs your touch, right?” Hermione asked. 

When Harry nodded, they each accepted it as perfectly normal, and moved onto other topics happily. 

Harry just shook his head as he watched them chattering. Sometimes, he really didn’t understand his friends. 

But he always appreciated them. 

… 

“Andy!” Harry greeted happily, as Andromeda Tonks nee Black entered the private room he’d secured at the Leaky Cauldron. 

He really did adore the woman. They’d hit it off almost immediately after Dora had introduced them over the summer. Harry’s first act as Head of House Black had been to reinstate Andromeda—and by extension, her family—to the Black family. 

“Harry! How are you? Enjoying being back at Hogwarts?” she asked, pulling him into a tight hug before the two of them sat down. 

They caught up—including Harry explaining to her about his newly discovered bond, and his love of teaching—while they ate, and then, once the food was gone, settled down to business. 

“Personally,” Andromeda said, sitting back in her seat, “I think that you should offer Narcissa and Draco Sanctuary, as they’ve requested, dissolve the marriage between Narcissa and Lucius, and then leave them to their own devices. You owe them nothing, Harry. Unfortunately, Narcissa has done nothing to actually shame the House of Black, and therefore, you have no reason to tell them to go and hang themselves.” 

Harry snorted. Andromeda rolled her eyes at him. 

“The only reason you could possibly have,” she added, “is a personal dislike of them, and that would be frowned upon by a lot of the old Lords.” 

“I don’t actually have an issue reinstating them to the family,” Harry replied, shrugging lightly. “As long as they don’t come to me every five minutes expecting my time or money, I’m fine with them. I was actually considering bringing Lucius along for the ride.” 

Andromeda choked on her drink. 

“Sorry. I just… Do you not think that it would be extra satisfying to see the Malfoy name wiped out? As it is, even if he doesn’t have Narcissa—and Draco to carry on the name—there are enough women out there who would likely be happy to bear his children. He could easily sire another heir.” 

Andromeda tilted her head slightly. “That’s particularly crafty, Harry. I’m impressed. Any property belonging to the Malfoy’s would automatically revert to you, as well, and it would be a nice addition to your portfolio. They have properties abroad, of that I’m absolutely certain.” 

Harry nodded. “I’m just not sure if Lord-Loves-Himself would actually accept any kind of deal that meant the loss of his name. I think it’s worth the offer, though… if Narcissa wants a clean break from him, I’d be inclined to let her have it.” 

“If the marriage is a love match? I was never sure when we were all younger.” 

“Then I’ll offer to let Lucius come with her.” 

“There’s also the option of simply extending a familiar loan to Narcissa,” Andromeda pointed out. “It would keep you entirely hands off. The paperwork and the repayments would be arranged by the bank. Draco will be able to take the Malfoy Lordship when he’s twenty-one… or sooner, if anything were to happen to Lucius. I know you said that you thought he would be able to make something of himself, given the opportunity.” 

“I really do believe that,” Harry admitted. “Choices, choices. I’m glad that we have options, it will make it much easier if we can lay out multiple plans on the table.” 

“I’ll draw up the contracts and arrange for a meeting at the bank with Narcissa,” Andromeda promised, making a note in her planner. 

“Is there anything else that I need to deal with while we’re here?” Harry asked. 

Andromeda often sent him paperwork, but some things, especially new things, she preferred to speak to him about in person, to ensure that he understood what was happening. 

“Actually, there is. Since you reinstated me, Dora is now of Black status, even though she kept her father’s name.” 

Harry nodded. 

“Remus came to Ted and I last week with something that isn’t actually for us to deal with anymore. He wishes to marry Dora, and he needs her Head of House’s permission to do so.” 

She laughed at the look of horror on Harry’s face. 

“Remus has to ask me for permission to marry Dora?” he asked, mortified. “Sweet Merlin. Why do these things happen to me? That will be, quite literally, the most embarrassing conversation of my life to date.” 

Still laughing, Andromeda added, “You will also have to set the dowry price for my daughter.” 

Her laughter only increased when Harry let his head fall to the table with a bang. 

… 

Severus chuckled as Harry told him about his afternoon with Andromeda. The two of them were sitting comfortably in Severus’ quarters, each of them taking a brief break from the piles of essays on the table, waiting to be graded. 

It amazed Harry how quickly they’d fallen into something that felt like friendship; even after reading in the book that such interactions would be easy for them, he hadn’t truly believed it, given their unique history. It was unlikely many other mates had been through so much before realising what they were to one another. 

“So, what are you planning to do next?” Severus asked. 

“I asked Andy what the standard dowry is for the House of Black, and then said that I would double it. It’s an easy way for me to give to them without them calling it a hand-out. You know how stubborn Remus can be about things like that. I just have to wait for Remus to contact me now, I suppose.” 

Harry wrinkled his nose a little distastefully. “As far as the Malfoy’s are concerned, Andromeda is going to arrange a meeting at Gringotts with Narcissa for next weekend. I really should have written the letter myself, but we haven’t actually started on the ins-and-outs of writing letters like the one necessary yet, so we figured it was probably just safer if she did it.” 

Severus frowned slightly. “Just… let me get this straight. Now only are you studying for your exams, and doing an apprenticeship, not to mention starting the work on a Mastery, but you’re also having private lessons on Pureblood culture and how to run your houses?” 

He arched his eyebrow incredulously. 

Harry chuckled. “I know that it sounds like a lot, but it’s not horrendous.” 

“How so?” 

“Well,” Harry said. “Since I’ve been keeping up with my homework through necessity, and also doing all of my apprenticeship work on the day you give it to me, I’m actually all caught up. Tomorrow, Ron, Hermione and likely most of the seventh years will all wake up around noon with terrible hangovers, and they’ll all have a stack of work to do. I’ll be able to laugh my head off at them, guilt-free, because all my work is done. It’s the small pleasures in life.” 

Harry grinned cheekily, and Severus snorted in amusement, shaking his head slightly. 

“There’s that, I suppose,” he agreed. “I was proud of you tonight, telling your friends no when you knew that I would have let you go if you chose to do so.” 

“There are more important things than drinking in a local bar, gaining nothing but a hangover,” Harry replied, softly. He leant over and pressed a kiss to Severus’ cheek. It just felt so natural to do so. “I enjoy the time I get to spend with you, even if I do have to read the utter drivel the first years write.” 

He returned his attention back to the said drivel-filled-essays that he still had to grade, though he watched out of the corner of his eye as Severus stared at him, a dazed expression on his face. He smiled to himself when, eventually, Severus turned back to his own grading, a faint smile on his face. 

Harry bit his bottom lip. It might be a little early for such optimism, but maybe things really would actually work out just fine. 

… 

Harry’s prediction for his friend’s predicaments came half-true, the following day. He was sitting in the Common Room, reading a book that Severus had recommended he read for his Mastery, when his friends began to surface just before noon. Ron and Hermione joined him in the nearby armchairs, both of them looking a little worse for wear. 

He smirked. “Good night, was it?” 

Hermione groaned. “Yes. At least, I think it was. I can’t remember much,” she admitted. 

Ron nodded and then immediately stopped, wincing at the pain in his head. 

Harry laughed, and then handed them both a vial filled with a purple potion. “The perks, apparently, of being mated to a Potions Master. He cares when I care about idiot friends with lots of work to do. Hangover potions. Don’t expect them again; he won’t offer, and I won’t ask.” 

While Ron professed his love for both Harry and Snape, Hermione just downed the potion, sighing in relief as it settled her stomach and her headache disappeared almost immediately. 

“Tell Professor Snape that we said thank you,” she said, with a small, relieved smile. 

Harry just nodded, waiting for the potion to kick in properly. He laughed when she sat up straight in her chair, a string of curses falling from her lips that were most unlike Hermione. 

“Lots of work. Essays to write… essays to grade…why did I not think about the pile of grading I have to do?” she groaned, leaving the Common Room quickly to get her work. 

Ron watched her go, a bemused expression on his face. 

“Don’t you have work to do?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend. 

Ron shook his head. “I finished my homework and grading on Friday, because I knew that we were going out last night,” he replied. 

The two of them watched as a frantic Hermione reappeared, her bag and a stack of parchment in her hands. 

“Mental, that one,” Ron said. “Chess, Harry?” 

… 

Severus sat in his private sitting room, a book open on his lap, though he wasn’t actually reading it, his thoughts elsewhere. Well. His thoughts exactly where they were almost all of the time these days; on Harry. The young man, for her couldn’t really think about him as a boy any longer, had surprised him at every turn since the Opening Feast. 

Severus wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. 

Had he been so wrong in his previous assumptions about Harry? Had he truly let his past affect him so much as to miss how kind, caring, and actually amusing Harry was, or was this Harry different to the one he’d watched grow up? 

Severus thought that, perhaps, it was a mix of both. 

Harry was due down sometime in the next hour or so to go over the coming week’s lesson plans, and to ask any questions he needed answering so that he didn’t look like a dimwit in class. Not that he was, in any way, a dimwit when it came to defensive magic, but it really wouldn’t do for an apprentice to be caught short in front of the other students. 

Besides, Severus could feel the pain beginning to creep in, and that was usually a sign that Harry would be around soon. He seemed to have a sixth sense for when Severus needed skin-to-skin contact. 

Almost as though his thoughts had called Harry to him, a soft knock on the door announced his arrival. 

Severus waved a hand in the direction of the door to allow his visitor entrance, and Harry came in, looking as handsome as he always did, at least to Severus. That was mostly his Veela talking, but Severus couldn’t deny that Harry was objectively gorgeous—and he was sure that he wasn’t the only one who thought so. 

“Hey,” Harry greeted, smiling as he sat down beside Severus, slotting their hands together as though it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Good evening,” Severus replied. “A productive day for you, I hope?” 

“It was good. I read most of the book you recommended, and filled in some paperwork that Andromeda sent over for me. Oh, and Ron and Hermione both say thank you for the hangover potions.” 

“You may tell them that they are welcome, and not to expect it again.” 

“I’ve already told them not to expect it again,” Harry replied, sinking further into the comfortable sofa. “I think Hermione learnt her lesson, anyway.” 

“What about Weasley?” 

“Ron surprised me, actually. He had all of his work done; finished it on Friday, because he knew that they had plans to go out. Apparently, he was expecting the hangover, and had actually planned for it.” 

Severus was as surprised as Harry had been, and it must have shown on his face, because Harry chuckled. 

“Well, should we go over the lesson plans, then?” Severus asked, slightly sad that they had so little work to do that evening. Harry wouldn’t be around for very long, and Severus had gotten used to seeing him for a few hours a day. 

They sped through the work, and Harry had no questions about any of it, not that Severus had truly expected him to. He really was very good at the subject, after all. 

As Severus cleared up the parchment and sent it over to his desk, he watched from the corner of his eye as Harry fidgeted in the seat beside him. He was clearly waiting to be dismissed, Severus thought. 

“You can go now, Harry,” Severus said, quietly, shaking his hand free gently. He ignored the pain in his chest that had very little to do with the needed skin contact and waited for Harry to leave. 

Except… he didn’t. 

“Can I… would you mind if I just hang out here for a little while? You know to just… be here? With you?” 

Severus was floored. He looked into the green eyes of his mate, and he realised that he was going to fall, and fall hard. 

“Anytime, Harry. Anytime.” 

… 

Harry stood in formal robes, leaning against the wall in the back of the small room he and Andromeda had been shown to at Gringotts. Andromeda sat primly at the table already, as they waited on the arrival of Narcissa. 

They’d arrived early on purpose, knowing that it would give them the upper hand if they were already there and comfortable. Not that they didn’t already have the upper hand, but appearances mattered, and when Andromeda had suggested it, Harry had accepted without argument. 

They were talking quietly when the door swung open and Narcissa was shown inside by Harry’s account manager. She was pale, but composed, and she greeted them appropriately. 

“Lord Potter-Black,” she said, bowing to Harry. “Andromeda.” A respectful nod for her sister. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.” 

“Of course,” Harry replied, offering her a half bow of his own. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the table. 

Showing the manners that Andromeda had drilled into him, he pulled out a chair for Narcissa before he took his own seat. 

“Draco informed me that you wished to speak to me about a request of sanctuary to the House of Black. Is that correct?” 

“It is, Lord Black.” 

“I understand that your request is inclusive of Draco, but what of your husband?” 

“What of him?” she asked, and Harry could just barely see the shock that she was attempting to hide. 

“Do you wish to have him become a Black alongside you? Or were you wishing for a fresh start?” 

“I was unaware that the possibility would be on the table at all, Lord Black.” 

“There are… options,” Harry replied. “If you wish to break ties with Mr Malfoy, then I’m perfectly willing to grant you that, and accept the request of sanctuary for yourself and your son. I’d like to make myself clear, though, Lady Malfoy. I won’t allow myself to be made a fool of. Should you be planning to return to the Black household, simply to remarry Lucius with a fresh dowry, that will not happen.” 

“I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending that such a plan didn’t occur to me, but it was disregarded long before this meeting, Lord Black.” 

Harry nodded, glad that she was seemingly being honest with him. 

“You propose that you are willing to allow Lucius to join me, to take the Black name?” she asked, and Harry could clearly see the hope in her eyes. 

“I am. There would be stipulations to such an arrangement, of course. I’ve taken the liberty of having drafts of a contract written up. Take it home with you, discuss it with Mr Malfoy. If you wish to discuss things with me with your husband present, I’m willing to come to Malfoy Manor, since I’m aware of your husband’s current… difficulties. 

“If you decide against it, or decide to rejoin the family without your husband, then we can arrange another meeting here at the bank. I will, as much as I am able, work to your schedule, though you’ll understand that at the moment, any meetings must take place on the weekends.” 

“Thank you, Lord Black. Is there a time limit of time in which you desire my answer?” 

Harry shook his head. “Take your time. Make sure that what you decide on is what you truly want.” 

“Thank you.” She stood up and gathered the parchment from the table. “Lord Black. Andromeda.” 

Harry and Andromeda watched as she left the room, contract in hand, and Harry sighed, slumping against the table with a huff. 

“I really hate all of this pomp and nonsense, Andy. I wasn’t built to be a Lord of anything.” 

Andromeda chuckled. “You did very well, Harry. You had no need of me at all. I’m proud of how far you’ve come in such a relatively short amount of time.” 

Harry smiled at her, and then checked his watch. “Are you ready? I have to get back to see Severus.” He stood up, dusting off his robes.

“Of course. How is everything going with him?” 

“It’s going well, I think,” Harry replied, smiling slightly as thought of his mate. “We seem to be getting closer, definitely friends, perhaps more?” 

“That’s amazing, Harry. Can you see a future with him?” 

“I can,” Harry admitted. “Though it will happen whether I can see it or not.” 

“What do you mean? Harry, you can still walk away, if you’re truly unhappy with the match.” 

“Technically? Yes, I could. Morally? Never. But it doesn’t matter, Andy. I want to stay with him.” 

“I’m glad that you’re happy, Harry. Truly, I am.” 

“Thanks, Andy.” 

“I’ll see you next weekend?” she asked, as they reached the lobby. 

“You will,” he replied, hugging her. 

“And you’ll have finished all of the paperwork I just gave you?” 

“I’ll have finished the paperwork that I understand,” he corrected, making her laugh. 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Harry, you’ve been doing wonderfully. Has Remus been in contact with you yet?” 

“He has. He’s coming to visit next week, on Friday, I think. I’ll be sure to tell you about it on Saturday.” 

“Tell me about it? I’m expecting the memory in a vial, I have a pensieve.” 

Harry rolled his eyes at her as they reached the double doors of the bank. “Have a good week, Andy.” 

“You too.” 

He watched her leave, realising his mistake too late, as he heard his name being called from behind him. 

“Ah, Lord Potter,” his account manager said, reaching his side. “I wondered if I might have a quick word about the Potter accounts?” 

Harry groaned inwardly. Why didn’t he leave when he had the chance? A quick word with his account manager meant three hours and a headache. 

“As long as it really is a ‘quick’ word. I have other things that I must do today.” 

“Of course.” 

Harry scowled and turned back into the bank. He hated everything about having to be a responsible adult. 

… 

A knock on the door indicated to Severus that Harry had finally arrived. He opened it with a wave of his hand, not bothered to look up from the essay he was currently reading. He’d been steadily working through the seventh year essays; his lack of concentration as the day had wore on would not be good for grading the younger years essays, when he had to be more on the ball about catching their mistakes. 

“I am so sorry that I haven’t been around all day,” Harry apologised, sitting down in his usual place beside Severus. 

Their hands joined together almost instinctively, and Harry winced when he saw the way Severus sighed in relief, the stiffness leaving him as the pain filtered away. 

“It’s starting to affect you more quickly now, isn’t it?” Harry asked, frowning slightly when Severus refused to meet his gaze. “The book said it would eventually. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I don’t want this to disrupt your life anymore than necessary, Harry.” 

Hurt blossomed in Harry’s chest, and he shook his head sadly. “You still believe that this, you, is a disruption in my life? I thought that you knew me better than that now? I thought…” he trailed off. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. Next time, tell me when you’re hurting. Please.” 

Harry pulled his homework from his bag, and set it up on the table with one hand, something he was a pro at now. He began working, despite the pounding in his head, a build up of the day he’d had and the hurt that Severus still didn’t seem to believe that Harry enjoyed being near him. 

Side by side, hand in hand, the two of them worked silently. It was the same scene as many evenings they shared, though this one was nothing like the ones before it. An atmosphere, sickening in its thickness, hung over them. Distraction pulled both of them from their work, each of them wondering what they could say or do to fix things. 

“How was your day?” Severus asked, tentative as he pushed the essay he’d been grading away from him. 

“Fine. Busy. Horrible,” Harry replied, rubbing his head above his eyes, trying to ease the ache. “Take your pick because they’re all applicable. You?” 

“Boring. Painful,” Severus replied, unthinkingly. 

“And whose fault is that?” Harry snapped, before he shook his head at himself. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. I just… it irritates me that you still don’t trust me when I tell you that spending time with you isn’t a chore for me. I enjoy it.” 

“I do trust you, Harry,” Severus protested. “I know you’re being honest. I knew that you had a busy day today, and I didn’t want you to spend the day worrying about me.” 

“I could have made time for you if I knew you needed a little extra, Severus. This morning, I could have done what little work I had left to do here, instead of in my room. If I’d known it was getting worse, I would have told my account manager to set up a time for a meeting, or had him send me the details in a letter. If I have no time for you, Severus, then I’ll make time.” 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Severus replied, and Harry could hear the frustration in his tone. 

“I want to, though. I know that I don’t have to. I know that I could walk away with absolutely no consequences to myself, but I don’t want to. Why can’t you understand that?” 

“I can’t understand it,” Severus said, flatly. “Because I don’t understand why someone as… as perfect as you could ever want to be with someone like me.” 

Harry blinked, and then chuckled, he couldn’t help it. “Perfect? Severus, I couldn’t be further away from the perfect if I tried. All I am is me… just Harry. If that’s good enough for you, then why won’t you accept that who you are is enough for me? 

“Yes, we’re mated by a bond that didn’t actively give us a choice. I understand why that would make you a little wary. But… aren’t we beyond that? The Veela bond didn’t make us what we are now. It just showed us it was possible.” 

Severus blinked several times at him, seemingly shocked into silence. Harry smiled at him. 

“Do you think you’ll be okay for the rest of the night?” Harry asked. “I’m exhausted. I’ll drop by in the morning before breakfast.” 

Severus nodded, and let go of Harry when Harry stood. Harry gathered his things, and then bent to press a kiss to Severus’ cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

He was at the door when Severus seemed to get his voice back. 

“Harry?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you.” 

“For you, Severus? Anything, anytime.” 

… 

Despite his wish to go straight to bed, Harry entered the Common Room and upon seeing his friends, joined them by the fire. Only Neville and Hannah were in the room otherwise, and they seemed occupied with each other, both leaning over a piece of parchment, talking softly to one another. 

“What’s up, Harry?” Hermione asked, watching him stare at the fire. Ron joined her in watching him, chuckling when Harry ignored her completely, despite her saying his name again, three times. His mind was clearly elsewhere. 

“Harry!” she shouted, eventually. 

He startled, and then winced away from her. “Bloody hell, Hermione, I’m right here, there’s no need to shout!”

Ron howled with laughter as Hermione scowled at Harry. Harry was just confused by his friends, and he looked at Hermione questioningly. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, shaking her head at him fondly. “You’ve been in a daze since you came in here.” 

“I… how…?” 

“Harry?” 

“How do you know if you’re… in love?” 

“I… oh. Really?” 

Ron stopped laughing, and patted Harry on the shoulder. “I think the dazed expression kinda says it all, to be honest, mate.” 

“It’s… it’s only been weeks,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I can’t already be… can I?” 

“Trust your feelings, Harry,” Hermione said, smiling softly at him. “Creature bonds can move a little faster than regular relationships. It’s entirely possible that you’re—” 

“Oh my god,” Harry murmured, interrupting her. “I’m in love with Severus.” He frowned. “Merlin, what am I going to do?” 

… 

Severus stormed through the dungeons towards his quarters, his robes billowing behind him, the scowl on his face enough to keep even the most idiotic of students from bothering him. 

Harry had been acting oddly for almost two weeks, and Severus was just about at his wits end with the situation. He didn’t know what to do. Ever since their… he was hesitant to even call it an argument, but ever since then, when Harry had been late back, he’d been distant, unfocused, and a bloody nightmare to try and talk to. 

Severus had tried to speak to him. He’d tried to find out what was wrong, if Harry was having doubts, if there was something going on with his studies, or his yearmates, or even his friends though they’d seemed as close as always whenever Severus had seen them together. He was fresh out of ideas, and the Veela side of him was getting ruffled. 

He’d only been in his quarters for a few minutes when a knock on the door announced Harry’s arrival. The door swung open with an irritated wave of Severus’ magic, and Harry stepped inside, dropping his bag in its usual place as he held out his hand for Severus to hold. 

“Hey,” Harry said, hiding a yawn behind his free hand. “Have we got much to do tonight?” 

When Severus didn’t answer, Harry looked at him properly and frowned. Severus realised that something in his expression must have given away his mood. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Severus tilted his head slightly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to work out,” he said, his tone flat. “What, exactly, has gone wrong?” 

Harry blinked. “Are you trying to argue with me? I’m so confused. Severus, what’s going on here?” 

“I would like to know what is wrong with you,” Severus said, gesturing at Harry with his free hand. “Because ever since we had that rather minor argument—especially by our past standards—you’ve been distracted. Are you having doubts? Because I don’t want to—” 

“Hey, hey, no wait,” Harry said, interrupting softly. “I’m not having doubts. I just… I have been distracted, I know, I’m sorry. I’ve probably been terrible company lately, haven’t I?” 

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, Harry, it’s never that. If there is something wrong, I’d much prefer to know about it. Being kept in the dark has never… it’s never ended well for me.” 

“It’s not wrong,” Harry reiterated. “I promise you, there’s nothing wrong.” 

“Harry…” Severus shook his head. 

Harry stood up, dropping Severus’ hand. “I have to go. I’ll come back later,” he said, backing away from the sofa. “I’m going to need you to back off this for a while though, okay? I… I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” 

“Harry!” Severus snapped, standing up. “You can’t just run away from me because I asked you a hard question!” 

“I’m not running away!” 

Severus threw his arms up to gesture at Harry, who was almost at the door. “That’s not what it looks like from here!”

“I’m not running,” Harry repeated, glaring at Severus, one hand on the door. “I just… need a minute. I’ll come back.” 

Severus shook his head. “If this is how you’re going to behave… don’t bother.” 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake. I love you, okay? That’s why I’ve been distracted. I love you, and you’re being a complete prat, so I’m leaving and I’ll be back later!” 

Turning away from Severus, Harry slammed his way out of the quarters and stomped off down the corridor. He’d left his bag behind, not even thinking about the work he needed to do that evening. 

He just… he just needed a minute. 

That was all. 

… 

Well, Harry thought glumly to himself, as he walked around the lake. That could have gone better. He didn’t know why he’d just blurted it out, other than that he was sick and tired of holding it back. The last couple of weeks had been hell; every time Severus did something sweet or thoughtful, Harry had forced himself to bite the words back. 

He hadn’t wanted to tell Severus yet; he thought that it might scare the man off, or something. Everything was just moving so quickly, and it was… it was a lot. Given how hesitant Severus had been since the beginning, throwing such big words and emotions into the mix seemed like a terrible idea. 

This definitely wasn’t the outcome he’d hoped for, though. 

He knew that he would have to face Severus, and he would have to do it later that evening. There hadn’t been nearly enough contact for them through the day, and he wouldn’t leave the man in pain just because he was scared to face him. He wasn’t a Gryffindor for nothing. 

He also wasn’t going to take the words back; he did love Severus and he wasn’t going to lie and say that he didn’t. He just… he didn’t want Severus to feel pressured into returning the declaration, or even make him feel like he should feel the same. 

Harry sat down on one of the large rocks beside the lake and put his head in his hands. 

How on earth was he going to fix this? 

… 

Severus was sitting on the sofa, staring into the unlit fireplace, when a knock on the door indicated Harry’s return. He opened the door, but didn’t turn around to see the younger man enter. He heard Harry walk towards him slowly, and felt the seat beside him dip down when Harry took his usual seat. 

His hand was held out, but Severus didn’t reach for it the way that he usually did. 

“Severus?” Harry said, his name sounding like a question. 

“We need to end this,” Severus said, his tone low and flat, no feeling in it whatsoever. “Whatever this is between us must end now, before someone gets hurt.” 

“Severus—” 

“I thank you for the assistance you’ve offered me, but I can manage my… condition alone moving forwards. You no longer have to fulfill your apprentice studies in the same room. I’ll send you the essays via elf, and you can return them the same way. You will no longer be expected to attend my lessons during  your free periods.” 

“Severus—” 

“You can leave now, Potter.” 

“Severus!” 

“I think that it would be best if you returned to addressing me with respect, Mr Potter. It is only proper, after all. Leave my rooms now, if you please.” 

“And what if I don’t please,” Harry demanded, angry now. “You can’t do this, Severus. You need my touch!” 

Severus turned to look at him, and Harry recoiled away from the loathing he saw in his eyes. Severus hadn’t looked at him like that since his fifth year. 

“Just like your father, Potter, always believing yourself to be special. I don’t need you, and I don’t want you. Now, get out!” 

Harry shook his head. His anger left him as quickly as it had come, but he stood up, and once more moved away from the sofa. Bending to collect his bag, he moved to the door. When he reached it, he turned back, looking at the back of Severus’ head. 

“Before I go, you need to know,” Harry said, his voice trembling slightly. He wouldn’t cry though. Not there. “I was telling you the truth earlier. I do love you, Severus. If you need me, I’ll be here. Otherwise… otherwise, I won’t bother you.” 

The tears spilled onto his cheeks as he closed the door behind him, and he let himself rest against the door for a long moment. 

What a mess. 

… 

The following days were hell for both Severus and Harry, as they stayed further apart than they had since the beginning of September. 

Severus was snappier than usual, perhaps even more so than he’d been in past years, when Voldemort was still at large, and he seemed to be in constant pain; walking with a limp, holding his head in his hands as he sat at his desk, wincing when he moved quickly. 

Harry, on the other hand, simply stopped doing anything. He ghosted from class to class, paying little attention to the lessons he should be learning. He ignored his friends, he stopped going to the Great Hall for meals, only eating when Kreacher arrived in his room with a tray and refused to leave until Harry had eaten everything he’d fetched with him. 

He ignored the essays that Severus sent to him, ignored the paperwork that Andromeda sent to him, ignored the homework his teachers were piling on all of the students as they prepared for their NEWTs. 

Everybody had noticed, students and staff alike, although most of them didn’t understand what was happening. 

Hermione tried everything she could think of to get Harry to speak to her, all to no avail. Dumbledore hosted both Harry and Severus in his office multiple times, though always separately, to try and find out what, exactly, was going on, but he too failed to convince either of them to tell him what had happened between them. 

Defence class was the worst, for both of them. Severus tried his best to ignore Harry’s presence, but the Veela wouldn’t allow it, and it cried out for his mate. Harry just stared down at the table, unwilling to make eye contact with anyone, turning up to class only in body. 

It was almost like his spirit had left him, leaving behind an empty shell where the bright eyed Gryffindor should be. 

Severus had seen the change in Harry; it would have been impossible not to. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Part of him still thought that he’d done the right thing, setting Harry free to find someone less damaged to love. The larger part—and it was getting bigger by the day—saw what he was doing to the younger man and hated himself for it. 

He wanted to fix it. 

He just didn’t know how. 

… 

Harry sat outside the castle by the lake. It was where he always escaped to, when he wasn’t in class. The seasons were turning much colder as winter swiftly approached, so he wasn’t often disturbed. He liked to watch the ripples in the water from the wind, and occasionally, the giant squid would surface, splashing around. 

“Harry!” 

Harry turned his head to see Dumbledore hurrying towards him. He frowned. 

“What’s wrong, Sir?” 

“Severus needs your help.” 

“I… why?” Harry asked, though he felt more alert than he had all week. 

“He collapsed,” Dumbledore said, his tone softer now as he stopped beside Harry. “I believe that the pain finally got too much for him to handle.” 

“Has he asked for me?” 

“He’s unconscious, dear boy. I’m sorry to ask you to do this while the two of you are so obviously at odds, but he won’t wake up without you.” 

Harry pushed himself to his feet. “Git can’t object if he's unconscious, can he?” he muttered, making Dumbledore chuckle as the two of them set off back for the castle. 

When they reached the main doors, Harry glanced at Dumbledore. “Where is he?” 

“The Hospital Wing,” Dumbledore replied. “He collapsed in the Defence corridor. Two of the third year Hufflepuffs found him and raised the alarm.” 

“That’ll make his day,” Harry murmured, as they walked towards the Hospital Wing. Harry entered first, and he saw Severus immediately. Madam Pomfrey had utilised the bed that she usually saved for Harry. He smiled at her as he walked past, and she patted him on the arm, comfortingly. 

He didn’t know if she knew what was happening, but he suspected it was likely. Madam Pomfrey had a sixth sense for the happenings in the school, particularly when someone landed in her wing. 

He sat down in the chair beside the bed, and reached out, taking Severus’ hand gently in his own. 

Professor Dumbledore joined him after ten minutes or so, apparently done speaking with the Matron. The Headmaster conjured a comfortable looking armchair, and then transfigured the chair Harry was sitting in to match. Harry smiled at him. 

They didn’t talk. After a while, Dumbledore took a book from one of the many pockets of his blue and orange robes, while Harry sat thinking, though about what, he couldn’t say. His thoughts were a jumble, all too tangled up and messy for him to really make any sense of them, even in his own mind. 

He didn’t know how long they sat there, but he felt himself gradually relax for the first time since Severus had thrown him out of his quarters. 

A moan brought him back to the present, and he turned his head to watch as Severus slowly woke up, blinking a few times as he tried to work out where he was. A second moan made Harry smile weakly, slightly amused that Severus seemed to have the same reaction to the Hospital Wing that Harry himself often had. 

“Ah, Severus, I’m glad to see that you’re alright, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said. 

Severus startled slightly, and then turned his head to look first at the Headmaster, and then at Harry. 

“What happened?” 

“Two of our third year Hufflepuffs found you unconscious near your classroom. It would appear that the pain got a little bit too much for the human body to handle.” Dumbledore smiled and then looked pointedly at the two of them over his half moon glasses. “I’ll just go and have a spot of tea with dear Poppy while the two of you have a chat, shall I?” 

Not waiting for an answer, Dumbledore wandered off merrily towards Madam Pomfrey’s office, leaving behind an awkward silence. 

After a few minutes, Severus broke it, saying, “Thank you for coming.” 

“I told you that I would be here if you need me,” Harry reminded him, keeping his eyes on their joined hands. 

“You did,” Severus replied. “I apologise for what I said that day, about you and your father. It was unnecessary.” 

“Hmm,” Harry agreed. 

“I… you…” Severus stopped and took a moment to arrange his thoughts. “Will you… I mean, are you—” 

“I’ll start meeting you in your office in the evenings,” Harry said quietly, knowing what Severus was trying—and failing—to ask him. He saw Severus nod out of the corner of his eye. 

The silence was still awkward. 

“You can leave now, if you’d like. I’ll be alright until after dinner tomorrow night.” 

Harry looked up to meet his eyes for the first time since Dumbledore had left them alone. “Stop being a stubborn shit and go to sleep. I’ll leave when I’m ready.” 

Severus chuckled, and then closed his eyes. As he drifted off to sleep, both of them wondered the same thing. 

Could things go back to the way they were? 

… 

Harry entered Severus’ office after dinner the evening that followed the professor collapsing to find the man waiting for him. He dropped his bag onto the chair and pulled out the stack of homework he’d been neglecting since their falling out. He put the sizable stack on the desk. 

Dropping the bag to the floor by the chair leg, he sat down and offered his hand, palm up, to Severus, as he took out his quill. Severus took the offered hand, and Harry set himself to work. 

All of it was done in silence. It wasn’t that he was still mad at Severus—he wasn’t, despite knowing that he probably had cause to be—it was more that he didn’t know how to get back to the closeness that they had enjoyed prior to the argument. He didn’t know how to act, what to say, or what to do. 

Should he go back to aimless chatter, telling Severus about his day and the random things that popped into his mind, or should he simply stick to the subject they were actually there for? 

The silence stretched through the evening as Harry worked on his homework, and Severus worked through the pile of marking that Harry should be doing, if only he hadn’t fallen so far behind. 

Each of them wanted to break the silence, but neither of them knew how. Harry couldn’t help but wonder why fate had decided that two emotionally inept individuals could make a bond work, when they didn’t even know how to communicate in the simplest of ways. 

When Harry could no longer see the words on the parchment in front of him because he was so tired, he put his quill down and waved his hand to magically roll the essays he’d managed to complete. Glad that he had made his way through at least part of the stack, he let go of Severus’ hand to put the parchments away in his bag. 

Standing up, he stretched himself out and then finally looked at Severus, only to find the man already looking back at him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Harry said, quietly, bending to pick his bag up. “I’ll be a little later. I’ve got to meet with Andromeda, so that she can flay me alive for all of the paperwork I haven’t done.” 

Severus nodded, not taking his eyes away from Harry. 

Harry left the office and walked down the corridor, stopping only when he’d gotten three corridors away. Dropping his bag to the floor, Harry leant against the wall and then slid down it as his emotions got the better of him. They’d been close to the surface for days, and they finally escaped, tears sliding down his face as he held his head in his hands. 

He wasn’t sure if this torture was worse than not seeing Severus at all. At least before, when Severus had refused him completely, he hadn’t had any hope. 

This was so much worse. 

… 

Severus sat back in his seat, watching Harry leave the office. He wanted to call him back, but he couldn’t seem to find the courage. One thing was for certain though; they couldn’t continue on like this. 

He cursed himself; his insecurities had ruined not only his own happiness, but Harry’s as well. 

Putting the graded homework away in a drawer in his desk, he decided to call it a night. There was no use sitting idly in his office doing nothing, not when he could be drowning his sorrows in the comfort of his living room, anyway. Closing and warding the door, he walked quietly down the corridor in the opposite way to which he usually would, deciding to do a quick sweep of the castle while he was out. 

It might improve his mood slightly if he came across a few students to terrorise and deduct points from. 

Noise attracted him to a nearby corridor, and he stalked closer. Someone was snuffling and sniffling; crying. 

Turning into the corridor the noises came from, he was stunned to see Harry sitting on the floor, slumped forwards with his head in his hands. 

“Harry? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” 

“Fuck,” Harry muttered, so quietly that Severus barely made out the word. He watched as Harry wiped at his face, apparently trying—and failing—to hide the evidence of his tears from Severus as he stood up. 

“I’ll just be going,” Harry mumbled, nodding tightly before he started to walk away again. This time, Severus wasn’t having any of it. 

Hissing, he raised a hand to his head, causing Harry to turn back in alarm. 

“Are you alright?” he asked frantically, as he made his way back to Severus quickly, raising a hand to press it against the back of Severus’. 

“I’ll be fine, Harry. I’ve told you often enough not to worry about me, haven’t I?” 

“You’re obviously in pain,” Harry pointed out. “Can I help you?” 

Severus hid his feeling of triumph as Harry tightened his grip on the hand he was holding, before he frowned at Harry slightly. 

“It’s because of how long I denied myself the contact, I believe,” he said. “It might take a while to get back on an even footing, that’s all.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Harry asked, and Severus hated to hear the hurt in his voice again, but he hoped that this would help to make things better between them. 

It would be worth it. 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he murmured. “Really, I’m fine, Harry.” 

“The hell you are,” Harry spat. “Stop lying to me!” 

“Alright, fine,” Severus said, tightening his hold on Harry’s hand just slightly. “I’m in constant pain when you’re not around, Harry. From my head to my feet, it all hurts, all the time when I don’t feel your touch. Is that what you want to hear?” 

“You know that I don’t want you to be in pain,” Harry said, seeming to calm down. “I do want to hear the truth though, so thank you. Come on, I’ll come and sit with you for a while, see if I can help to alleviate the pain.” 

“You know that you don’t have to,” Severus said, raising a hand when Harry opened his mouth to protest. “But thank you.” 

Severus smiled inwardly as Harry walked beside him, hand in hand, down to the dungeons. All thoughts of drowning his sorrows had been forgotten. It wasn’t like he’d lied, per say. He’d just, perhaps, been a little… inventive with the truth. The pain truly was worse than it had been before, and it was hitting him faster. 

It just wasn’t absolutely constant. 

As they entered his quarters, Severus hoped that they would actually talk. Maybe there was still a chance to make this better. 

… 

Harry sat down in his usual place on Severus’ sofa, feeling unusually uncomfortable in the other man’s quarters. 

He wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t sure how much of what Severus had said was the truth, and how much he’d embellished it, but something was going on. The sneaky Slytherin had definitely been lying to him about something, Harry had seen that much in his eyes. 

He was just waiting to see what the man was up to. If he called Severus out on the lie right now, they’d end up arguing, and it would just lead them right back to where they were before. 

Severus sat down beside him and called a house-elf to bring them tea and snacks. They appeared just moments later on a large tray on the coffee table. He poured them each a cup, and Harry watched him, accepting the cup when it was handed to him. Since this had started, both of them had become rather proficient at doing things one handed. 

“I think we need to talk, don’t we?” Severus said, when they were both settled. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. He was glad that they were both on the same page about that, though why Severus had found it necessary to lie to him to make it happen, he wasn’t sure. Still, he nodded his head. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t actually know what to say. 

He was scared of saying the wrong thing and making everything even worse than it already was. 

“I’ve apologised for what I said, but I think I need to explain to you why I said it,” Severus began. Harry noticed that his grip on Harry’s hand was tighter than usual. “You—and I’m not blaming you for this—you told me that you loved me, and then you ran away. I had time to convince myself that it wasn’t true, and as sad as it may sound, it didn’t take very long.” He shook his head. “I’m not a lovable man, Harry. You know that. Emotions… emotions, especially love, absolutely terrify me. And, if you tell anyone that, I’ll hex you to Mars and back.” 

Harry was shocked into silence as the pure, brutal honesty spewed from Severus’ lips. He wasn’t sure how to process that the man had actually just admitted to being—not just scared—terrified. He took a moment to think about his words before he replied, not wanting to screw things up. 

“You did apologise, and I accepted it straight away. I… it wasn’t all your fault, I’m not going to let you take all of the blame, though I’ll readily admit that you can take a large chunk of it. I should have run away straight after dropping such a bombshell on you.” Harry snorted. “I shouldn’t have dropped it at all. Not then. I should have waited until we were both ready to hear it.” Harry twisted his lips. “I’m not scared of love. I do love you, Severus. I’m frightened of rejection. And the only people who would care about that already know, to tell whoever you want.” 

Severus chuckled before he sobered. 

“So… we’ve both unintentionally cast our fears onto each other. You scared me with love, and I scared you with rejection. Does that make us even?” 

Harry smiled slightly. “Hmm. Maybe. I think that you can maybe stretch to doing the grading for me until I’m caught up on the thousand other things that I need to catch up on. Then we’ll be even.” 

“You drive a hard bargain, brat,” Severus muttered, nudging Harry gently with his shoulder. “But you are also correct. I can, and will, stretch to doing that.” 

Harry smiled, causing Severus to smile, and they both settled deeper into the sofa. Neither of them spoke for a while, and it was only when Severus felt Harry’s hand loosen its grip that he realised the younger man had fallen asleep. Conjuring a blanket, Severus levitated the empty teacup out of Harry’s hand onto the table, and covered him with a blanket. 

He leant over to press a gentle kiss to his temple. “I love you too, Harry.” 

Bleary emerald eyes blinked a few times before they focused on Severus. 

“About time,” Harry mumbled. He turned on the sofa so that he was leaning on Severus, his head falling onto Severus’ shoulder, and fell back asleep, a soft smile on his face. 

Severus watched him for a few moments before he too succumbed to dreams of a happy future with the man beside him. 

… 

Harry and Andromeda arrived precisely on time at Malfoy Manor to find a house-elf waiting for them. They were led through the main entrance and down a winding corridor to a study, where their hosts stood as soon as they entered to greet them. 

Pureblood etiquette; Harry hated all of it. 

“Lord Black,” Narcissa greeted, offering a full curtsy. She nodded her head to her sister. “Andromeda.” 

Lucius, on the other hand, merely gave Andromeda a disdainful look and then turned to look at Harry, offering only a brief nod of acknowledgement. 

Harry narrowed his eyes at the disgraced Lord. 

Shaking it off, he moved towards Narcissa instead. “Lady Narcissa,” he greeted politely, leaning in to kiss both of her cheeks. She smiled at him as he stepped back. 

Harry looked at Lucius and sniffed. “Malfoy.” 

Andromeda shot him a warning glance, but he just grinned cheekily at her, more amused when she rolled her eyes and smiled back at him. 

“Shall we begin?” she said, as she took a seat. She looked at Lucius coolly. “Lord Black has other things to do today.” 

Harry sat down beside her, as Lucius and Narcissa returned to the chairs they’d been sitting in before Harry and Andromeda first entered the room. Harry kept his gaze on Lucius, who looked like he was chewing on a particularly nasty tasting wasp. 

Despite the fact that Harry was, in fact, there to help, it still amused him to see Lucius Malfoy in such a snit. 

“If you were planning to speak for him, Andromeda, you should have just left him at home. It’s not like he has any idea how to act like a true Lord anyway,” Lucius sneered. 

Harry arched his eyebrow. “Pray tell, Mr Malfoy, what exactly have I done that makes you think I don’t know how to act to my station?” 

Lucius glared at him. “For a start, Lord Potter-Black, when you enter the home of a fellow Lord, you should abide by the old greetings. Not only did you fail to bow, you also insulted by referring to me by my last name only. If you can commit such errors in just the first few minutes of entering my home, I have no hopes for your behaviour as the meeting continues.” 

Harry tilted his head slightly. “I see. Well, while I hate to correct you, Mr Malfoy, I committed no such errors. Upon entering the home of a family member, as is Lady Narcissa, I greeted her first and perfectly amiably, as per the old ways. You, Mr Malfoy, are a disgraced Lord—I was in the courtroom when you pled guilty at your trial, and had your title stripped as part of the punishment for your crimes—and as such, the way I greeted you was perfectly acceptable, and in fact, not at all necessary.” 

Lucius opened his mouth, likely to argue, but Harry wasn’t finished yet. 

“On the other hand, it could be you who has forgotten the old ways, as when a Lord enters your home, you should greet them properly, with a bow and a respectful address, both of which you failed to do. Make no mistake, Mr Malfoy, that while I may be obligated to Lady Narcissa—and I fully intend to fulfill those obligations—I have no obligations whatsoever to you.” 

The silence was louder than any argument, and Harry folded one leg over the other, folding his hands on his knees, the picture of perfectly relaxed. 

“As Andromeda has already said, I do have other things to do today, and I’m here as a courtesy. If we could get on with this, I’d greatly appreciate it.” 

Andromeda smiled at him slightly, proud of him. She knew how hard it could be for him to hold decorum sometimes, especially when he was faced with someone he disliked as intensely as he did Lucius Malfoy. 

Everyone in the room could feel the anger practically radiating from Lucius, but he didn’t say anything. He stared stonily at the wall, just above Harry’s head, and held his silence. 

Harry could almost respect him for that. Almost. 

He turned to Narcissa. “I assume you’ve asked me here to finalise a decision?” 

“Not quite, Lord Black,” Narcissa replied, apologetically. Harry could see that she was embarrassed, though whether it was by her husband, or for him, he wasn’t sure. “Lucius wanted the opportunity to ask a few questions about the contract before he made a decision.” 

“I see. Well, that’s perfectly understandable. The questions?” 

“Why?” Lucius asked, and this time, he made eye contact with Harry. “Why would you, a boy who absolutely despises me, my family, and my name, wish to help us?” 

Harry considered his reply for a moment. “The offer is on the table, and my reasons are my own. I will say that, if there is real love between you, then it would never be my goal to break up a couple in love. I also believe that people deserve a second chance under certain circumstances; and no, I don’t mean you, I mean your son.” 

“And what will happen to the Malfoy name?” 

“All of this is laid out in the contract that we gave to Narcissa when we met at the bank,” Harry pointed out. “The Malfoy name would, obviously, be no more. You would become a Black, along with your wife and son. Any properties that you still own would be absorbed into my own portfolio.” 

“And me? What of me? Will you keep me on a leash, under house arrest?” 

Harry frowned at that. “You are aware that changing your name doesn’t actually absolve you of the crimes you committed and are being punished for, correct? Your house arrest is none of my business. The Ministry has decided on the sanctions against you, and that’s for them to continue or not.” 

“You have the power to have them remove the house arrest, do not try to insult me by pretending otherwise.” 

“The sway that I could have on the Minister, and the Wizengamot, is the same whether you sign the contract or not, and isn’t the matter I’m here to discuss with you. I came to speak to you both about the contract that you’ve had the time to look over. None of your questions so far have needed me here; they’ve either already been answered in the contract, or they have no beating on it.” 

“What will happen to Draco?” Lucius asked, as though he hadn’t listened to a work Harry had said. “Will he be named Heir to the Black family?” 

“Absolutely not,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I will, as per tradition, pay for any and all further education he desires to undertake, or fund an apprenticeship for him. When he wishes to move out, I will provide him with a Black property.” 

“Who is the Black Heir?” 

“That’s none of your business.” 

Harry’s patience was wearing thin at the back and forth, and he was ready to just call the whole thing off. He knew that it was necessary, but sometimes, he wondered why he’d ever agreed to be a Lord in the first place. 

“Very well. We still need time to discuss changes to the contract and discuss our options privately. We will summon you when we’ve discussed it fully between ourselves.” 

Harry blinked, and then, surprising everyone, he laughed and shook his head. 

“You’ve got a lot of front, I’ll give you that,” he said, as he stood up. Andromeda followed suit as Harry continued, “You will not summon me, ever. When you’ve reached a decision—and please, allow me to be clear, I will expect a decision at the next meeting, I don’t have the time nor the energy to play games with you—Lady Narcissa may write to me and request a meeting, which will be held at my convenience. The contract won’t be changing unless there is something you absolutely cannot accept, and only then will I entertain a discussion about it.” 

He turned away, and then turned back, looking directly at Lucius. “Understand, before I leave, that I don’t care if you sign the contract. I will take great pleasure in watching the Malfoy name sink all on its own, and I’m happy to accept Lady Narciss and Draco into the Black family without you. I don’t need you, Lucius, and the sooner you realise that, the better it’s going to be for everyone involved.” 

Harry bowed to Narcissa. “I think it’s time we left. It was a pleasure to see you again, Lady Narcissa. I’m sure that we’ll speak again soon.” 

… 

Harry walked into Severus’ office to find Severus waiting for him. He was late, again, but Andromeda had spent most of the afternoon intermittently bollocking him, and laughing at him. She had, at least, helped him to catch up on his paperwork in between, so it hadn’t been a complete loss. 

“Harry,” Severus said, nodding at him. 

Harry smiled. 

“Hey, you,” he replied, taking the outstretched hand in his own as he leant down to press a kiss against the waiting lips, before he sat down in his usual place. 

The kiss was a new addition to their routine, brought on by both their declarations of love, and Harry’s wish to bring them closer. 

“You look tired,” Severus noted, as he placed his quill down on top of the parchment he’d been scratching red ink into. Harry felt a brief wave of sympathy for whatever poor soul Severus was currently taking apart. 

“Mhm,” Harry agreed, resting his head on the desk. He was tired, but he hadn’t spent any time with Severus at all since the night before, and it wouldn’t be fair to have him suffering just because Harry had been busy all day. 

“Productive day, at least?” 

“I got to irritate Lucius Malfoy?” Harry offered, lifting his head to smirk slightly. “And Andromeda seemed to enjoy shouting at me for it? So. Yeah? I guess so.” 

“Ah, the highlight of anyone’s day, irritating Lucius Malfoy,” Severus said, chuckling. 

“Not the highlight,” Harry said, closing his eyes. “This is much better than that. He’s nothing, not compared to spending time with you.” 

Harry missed the blush that stained Severus’ cheeks, and the small pleased smile that lifted his lips. 

“You should go to bed, Harry,” Severus said, after a moment. “I can’t imagine that it would be very comfortable to sleep on the desk.” 

“Don’t wanna leave you,” Harry mumbled, but even he knew that it was futile. If he stayed there much longer, he’d have a crick in his neck, and there would likely be an embarrassing pile of drool on the hard-wood desk. 

“Then… you could come to bed with me?” 

Harry’s head jerked up so fast that he got a crick in his neck anyway, and he groaned in pain, rubbing where the pain seemed to settle. 

“Ouch. But also, what?” 

Severus laughed, shaking his head. “I meant to sleep, Harry. Only to sleep. Let me hold you, just for one night?” 

A beautiful—to Severus, anyway—smile appeared on Harry’s face. 

“I’d love to,” he whispered. 

They stood up together, their hands still linked, and with Severus half holding Harry upright, they made their way down to the dungeons, where a warm bed and fluffy pillows awaited them. 

“I missed you today, Potter.” 

Harry leant even more against him. “I missed you too. But Severus?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Don’t call me Potter when we’re on the way to bed. It’s creepy.” 

“Harry?” 

“Hm?” 

“Shut up.” 

… 

Weeks passed as Harry and Severus enjoyed their new closeness, and their relationship flourished. They hadn’t shared a bed again after that first time, but the thought was on both of their minds. Harry got himself caught up with his homework and began grading the younger years again, while also keeping himself up to date on the things Andromeda sent him, and life seemed to settle down into a nice pattern that he was enjoying. 

He was getting to spend more time with his friends, though they understood why his evenings were always taken by Severus, and he was… happy. 

It was a somewhat novel feeling, really. 

Ron and Hermione commandeered him one Sunday morning as he entered the Common Room. The three of them grabbed some toast from the Great Hall, and then they tugged him out onto the grounds. It was cold, winter setting in though the snow had yet to make an appearance, but it was fresh, and Harry enjoyed the light wind on his face. 

“So?” Hermione said, digging her elbow into Harry’s side. 

Completely nonplussed, he looked at her, wide eyed. “So… what?” 

“Have you decided what you’re getting Professor Snape for Christmas yet? It’s not far off now, you know?” 

Harry snorted. “When do you think I’ve had time to even think about Christmas, Hermione? You know I’d had plans to spend the break on a beach somewhere, but I can’t do that now. That’s as far as my Christmas plans have gotten, so… no, I definitely do not know what I’m getting for Severus, and… dammit. I should have thought about this sooner, shouldn’t I?” 

“You’re cheerful this morning, mate,” Ron said, laughing. “Everything okay?” 

“Urgh,” Harry grimaced. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” 

“Well. That cleared that up,” Ron replied, wincing when Harry cuffed him around the head. 

“Git.” 

“Really, though, Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione asked, looking concerned. 

“Severus. Or no, not Severus, Severus is great, he’s not a problem at all. I just… okay, so I told you that we both got our shit together and had a whole adult conversation, right? I love him, he loves me.” They both nodded, and Harry twisted his lips. “Okay, so that’s all very… cute, and all, but… it’s like we’re best friends that hold hands? I thought here would be more… well. Just more, to be honest.” 

“Cute, mate? Really? Cute?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You know when you see little kids, or like, really old people holding hands, or like, kissing all gently because they’ve been together for a century and they’re still in love, and it makes you go a bit mushy? Yeah? That’s where we’re at, and I don’t know how to be more than that, and it’s bloody annoying.” 

“Have you tried to talk to him about it?” Hermione asked, always logical, even though she seemed to be fighting laughter. 

Ron wasn’t even trying to fight it, the jerk. 

“Of course I haven’t,” Harry replied. “Why would you suggest something so obvious like that?” 

Ron laughed even harder, and Harry threw his hands in the air. 

“How do you even start that conversation anyway? ‘Severus, you know I love you, but I don’t wanna act like babies or pensioners anymore, let’s go have sex!’” 

Hermione lost the fight against her amusement, and along with Ron, the two of them roared with laughter. Harry tried to be sour about it, but he chuckled a little too. His friends were awful, but he loved them. 

He shook his head. “I probably shouldn’t lead with that, hm?” 

“You could buy him underwear? Or, I dunno, whipped cream and strawberries?” 

Ron blushed under the stare of Hermione, who was looking at him incredulously, and it was Harry’s turn to laugh at his friend’s discomfort. 

“I’ll think of something,” he said, eventually. “As for Christmas… there’s still time. I’ll figure that out, too.” 

Seeing that Harry was done talking about the subject for now, his friends moved on. None of them noticed the swish of the black cloak behind them. 

…

Severus walked down the corridor, deep in thought. He knew that he shouldn’t have eavesdropped on Harry when he was with his friends, but, well, he was a Slytherin, and when an opportunity like that presented itself so openly… of course he was going to take it. 

Except now, he wasn’t actually sure how he felt about what Harry had said. Part of him was cheering; he wanted nothing more than to take things further, and had been holding himself back for fear of moving faster than Harry was ready for. Another part of him, the part that had been there since the Welcoming Feast, felt guilty that Harry didn’t have any choice in who he was giving his virginity to. 

He hadn’t told Harry about those feelings, of course, because whenever he’d said anything even remotely like it, Harry sulked for days. The young man really didn’t like to hear the insinuation that Severus wasn’t good enough for Harry, despite Severus knowing that to be true. 

That aside, Granger had made a very good point. Christmas was swiftly approaching, and he too had no idea what to buy for his mate. 

… 

Harry sat down next to Severus on the sofa, dropped his bag, and ignored Severus’ hand to instead lean into his side for a cuddle. His face must have said it all, because Severus didn’t even ask him what was wrong. He simply held him close and brushed a gentle hand through Harry’s hair, soothing him. 

It was half an hour before Harry sat up and smiled apologetically at Severus. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, dropping his gaze away from Severus’ questioning eyes. 

Severus couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between Severus seeing him outside with his friends, and him arriving at Severus’ quarters. It had only been a handful of hours, for Merlin’s sake. 

“I think our relationship is going to be common knowledge by tomorrow,” Harry mumbled. Severus had to strain to hear the words. 

When he realised what Harry had said, his heart broke a little at how nervous Harry looked. Severus truly didn’t care, not now. He had been reluctant to make it public knowledge at first, but he loved Harry and he didn’t care who knew it. 

Harry was of age, nothing indecent had actually happened between them, and they had the approval of the Headmaster, and Harry’s best friends. Aside from all of that, Severus’ Veela status protected them completely from any accusations of impropriety. 

“I’m not angry,” he assured Harry, smiling slightly when Harry looked up at him, fear turning to relief in his beautiful eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” 

“It was stupid, really,” Harry admitted. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Seamus was in our Common Room, visiting with Dean, and they were gathering everyone to go out tonight. Apparently, that new club down in Hogsmeade has cottoned onto the Headmaster giving those of us who are of age a little bit more freedom, and they’re having a student night. 

Severus nodded, because he’d heard about that; Minerva was practically spitting when she’d spoken about it in the staff room. She was thoroughly against such nonsense. 

“Seamus asked if I was going, and when I told him no, he laughed at me, and told me that I’d turned boring as fuck since I became ‘Snape’s Bitch’.” 

“I’ll kill him,” Severus snarled, but Harry shook his head, pressing his hand on Severus’ leg. 

“There’s no need. Seamus… well, he certainly isn’t going to the bar tonight. Madam Pomfrey said that he’s going to be in the Hospital Wing for a few days. Apparently, it’s not just me who’s protective of our relationship.” 

At Severus’ confused look, Harry smiled a little and elaborated. 

“Hermione, Ron, and surprisingly Draco, took offence to Seamus’ words. Anyway, I got angry, and told everyone there that ‘no, I'm not your bitch, but I am your partner and I love you’, and then it turned into a bit of a shitshow and Seamus landed in the Hospital Wing.” 

Severus chuckled lightly and tugged Harry back into his arms. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into Harry’s hair, not really intending for Harry to hear him. 

“What for?” Harry asked, tilting his head up. 

Severus sighed, but answered anyway. “For not denying me. No one has ever done that for me before.” 

“I’ve never wanted to deny you, Sev. I just didn’t think that you would like it if everyone knew about us, that’s all.” 

“Sev?” Severus asked, scrunching his nose. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“If anyone but you ever calls me ‘Sev’, I’ll cut them up and use them as potion ingredients.” 

“But I can call you Sev?” 

Seveurs rolled his eyes. “I suppose so. It’s a damn good job that I love you, Harry Potter.” 

Harry laughed. “I know. I love you too, you know?” 

“I do know,” Severus replied. “As much as I’m enjoying sitting here though, I think that we should probably go and inform the Headmaster of what happened in the Common Room. He will need to be aware that Howlers of various strengths will no doubt be descending on the school over the next few days.” 

Harry groaned. “I hope Molly doesn’t send one. She could wake the dead when she gets heated.” 

“Hmm, I’ll second that, but I’ll also raise you. When I was in school, Frank Longbottom received a Howler from his mother that could have raised the dead in Australia, never mind here. So, I hope Augusta Longbottom doesn’t send one.” 

“Oh, Merlin, yeah, she sent one to Neville in… third year? I think. I thought that the ceiling was going to collapse in on us.” 

“Exactly. Come on, let’s go and see Albus.” 

… 

“Ah, my boys, come in, come in,” Albus said, cheerily, when he opened the door. They took the seats that they’d taken the last time they were together in the office, only this time, they held hands between them and they both had small smiles on their faces. 

Harry explained what had happened in the Common Room, and Albus looked mildly concerned for a moment. 

“Is Mr Finnegan going to be a problem, Harry? Is he homophobic?” 

“I don’t think so, Sir,” Harry replied, shaking his head. “I’m not even sure that he was being intentionally cruel. Seamus has chronic foot in mouth disease, he probably didn’t realise that he was going to hit such a nerve. My friends took offence though, and of course, so did I.” 

“Very well. There will have to be words with everyone involved, I believe, but so long as it remains a misunderstanding, I don’t believe that punishment will be necessary.” He smiled at them. “So, the Kneazle is out of the bag, so to speak. Severus, does it bother you?” 

“Not at all. I’m glad that everyone will know that Harry is mine, and I am his.” 

“Good, good. Would you like the elves to pack your things, Harry, or would you like to do it for yourself?” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Harry asked, confused and a little fearful. Was he being expelled for attacking Seamus? Hadn’t Dumbledore just said that there would be no punishment? 

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear boy. I thought that you were here to request permission to share Severus’ quarters. Is that not the case?” 

Harry and Severus exchanged a long look before they turned back to Dumbledore. 

“We actually came to warn you about the influx of Howlers we’ll be expecting,” Severus said, smiling slightly. “But now that you mention it, I think that it would be a good idea for Harry to stay with me.” He turned to Harry. “You’ve been tired in the evenings lately, and I don’t like you walking back to your Common Room when your defences are compromised.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about the Howlers, Severus. Minerva and I have added a ward to the school to redirect Howlers back to whence they came, so there will be none in the Great Hall.” He beamed at them. “Harry? Is it agreeable to you to move down to the dungeons with Severus?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Harry replied, wondering how on earth they’d gotten from Howlers to moving in together. 

“I believe that Kreacher would be willing to move you,” Dumbledore said, nodding. “He’s the most familiar with your preferences, after all.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Severus, would you mind leaving us alone for a few moments? I’d just like a quick word with Harry.” 

Frowning, Severus reluctantly agreed and stood up. “I’ll wait at the bottom of the staircase,” he told Harry, bending his head to press a quick kiss to the hand he’d been holding before he let go and stepped out of the office. 

“A little birdie told me that you’ve been having a hard time thinking of a Christmas present for Severus,” Dumbledore said, his tone soft. 

Harry blinked. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. “I have. Books and potion ingredients just feel too… impersonal.” 

“Have you thought about completing the bond between you? It is quite ceremonial, and I think to do it on Christmas Day—if you believe you are ready for it—would be a wonderful gift for Severus.” 

“I… didn’t think of that. The details are in the book that you gave me, aren’t they, Sir?”

He vaguely remembered the chapter about bonding, but he’d skipped over most of it, more interested in the way their relationship would progress in the beginning to worry about the later steps. 

Dumbledore nodded. “Do you believe that you’re ready for the commitment, Harry?” 

“I… yeah. Yeah, I do,” Harry nodded. “I love him, and I believe that he loves me.” 

Smiling, Dumbledore sat back in his chair. “Do let me know if you require any assistance in the preparations.” 

… 

Harry felt a little awkward when he left the Headmaster’s office. Severus was calmly walking beside him as though he hadn’t a care in the world, but Harry had spent enough time with him to know when he was irritated about something. They walked in silence, Harry thinking about the Headmaster’s advice, and Severus biting his tongue to stop himself from asking Harry what Dumbledore had wanted from him. 

Harry glanced at Severus. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine.” 

Sighing, Harry shook his head. Would they ever learn to communicate without things being difficult. He walked down the corridor, failing to turn when Severus did, making his way through the castle instead of down towards the dungeons. He could hear Severus calling his name, but he wasn’t in the mood for an argument, and he knew that, should he stay with Severus right now, that it was exactly what would happen. 

He just didn’t have the energy to play guessing games about what Severus was in a huff about. It could only be one of two things; either he was having second thoughts about Harry moving into his quarters, or he was sulking about being asked to leave while Dumbledore spoke to Harry. 

Harry assumed that it had to be the former; if it was the latter, then surely Severus would have just asked him what Dumbledore had wanted. 

Even that was hard to believe though; if Severus hadn’t wanted Harry to move in, he would have said something, wouldn’t he? Unless he thought that it would hurt Harry’s feelings, in which case, perhaps he wouldn’t. But Harry would have been happy to remain in his room, and keep things the way they were, if that was what Severus wanted. 

Rolling his eyes to himself, he made his way out onto the grounds. What had happened in the Common Room would likely be spreading through the school like wildfire already, and he figured that he might as well enjoy the peace he had now, before the shit hit the fan and he was bombarded with questions and accusations. 

He’d talk to Severus later. 

… 

Severus watched as Harry walked away, a sinking feeling in his chest. He should have just asked what Dumbledore wanted; now Harry was mad at him, and Severus didn’t have any idea what was going on. Had Harry decided that he didn’t have the patience to deal with Severus’ moods? 

Why couldn’t things between them ever be easy? 

He continued his path down to the dungeons; he wouldn’t chase Harry, not right now. If he wanted space, then Severus should at least give him that. 

He couldn’t help but feel a little bitter though; the stories he’d heard growing up, the things he had read, they’d all made him believe that once he’d found his mate, the relationship would go smoothly, love would blossom quickly, happiness would be his primary emotion. 

Lies. All of it was bloody lies. 

Ah, but it’s not all lies, is it, Severus? Not all of it. You love Harry, and he loves you, and when he’s here, you are mostly happy. 

He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind. It only ever gave him false hope that things would work out, and when had things ever truly worked out in Severus’ favour? 

And Harry was difficult for Severus to read. The young man said that he loved Severus, but did he truly? Did he even know what love was? Did Severus truly know what love was? 

Letting himself into his quarters, he was surprised to find an extra door leading from the living room. He opened it curiously, and was surprised to find all of Harry’s things already set up in the room. His clothes were in the wardrobe, there was a desk, already arranged with Harry’s school work and the work that Andromeda sent for him, and there was a bookshelf holding a surprisingly large collection of books. 

The room was decorated tastefully, in muted tones of brown and cream. 

Was this what Harry and Dumbledore had discussed? A separate room for Harry, so that he could be closer to Severus while also still having some space of his own? Had Dumbledore offered this to Harry without Severus present so that Harry didn’t have to fear upsetting Severus? 

Severus closed the door and sat down on the sofa he frequently sat on with Harry. He leant back against the cushions and rubbed a hand over his face. He had a headache settling in, and he closed his eyes, hoping for a brief reprieve. If Harry wasn’t there by the time he woke up, he’d go and find him. 

He wouldn’t let it go on like it had the last time; one way or another, they had to learn to communicate. 

… 

Harry knocked on the door to Severus’ quarters and then smiled slightly to himself when the door opened to his touch. He closed the door behind himself quietly, and then paused, his smile widening a little when he saw Severus sleeping on the sofa. He was about to sit on the armchair when he saw the door leading off the living room that hadn’t been there earlier in the day. 

He opened it slightly, peering inside. Seeing all of his things inside, all laid out neatly and arranged just the way he liked them, he nodded reluctantly to himself. This made sense; Severus wanted him closer, but perhaps not in his bedroom just yet. It was a step in the right direction, Harry supposed. He wished that Severus could have just told him that this was what he wanted though. 

He nipped into the room to grab the Veela book from his bookshelf, and then stepped back out into the living room, curling up in the armchair, his legs tucked up beneath him as he settled down with the book. This time, he flipped straight to the bonding ceremony chapter. 

If Dumbledore thought that it was a good idea for a Christmas surprise, then it was at least worth reading. Harry could try and figure out if it was something Severus even wanted over the coming days. 

… 

Severus woke up slowly, blinking a few times when he saw Harry curled up in the armchair, looking like he perfectly belonged there as he read a book. Severus spent a few seconds committing the sight to memory, because to him, Harry had never looked more natural, nor had he ever been more beautiful than he was in that moment. 

Apparently, Harry realised he was being watched, because all of a sudden, he looked up, his green eyes brightening when he saw that Severus was awake. A tentative smile crossed his face. 

“I hope you don’t mind me being here,” he said, softly, though his voice was calm and relaxed. “The door opened when I knocked, but I saw that you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you up to ask.” 

“Of course I don’t mind,” Severus replied. “You live here now, Harry, this space is as much yours as it is mine. The door wouldn’t have opened to anyone else, you know?” 

Harry nodded, a wider smile on his face. “I like the way my room is set up, did you do that, or did Kreacher do it?” 

Severus frowned. “I… no, it wasn’t me. I thought that you’d discussed having a room of your own with Albus. It was here when I got back.” 

“Oh. No, no that wasn’t… what I talked about with the Headmaster. Why did you think that?” 

“It was here when I returned,” Severus repeated. “I thought that you must have asked for it that way.” 

Harry shook his head. “Not guilty. I was talking to the Headmaster about… something else. Nothing bad, I promise, but I’m not going to tell you what it was. You’ll find out soon enough, okay?” 

Severus watched him for a few seconds, looking for any signs of discomfort, before he nodded. “Okay. I won’t push you about it. If you need to talk, you know that I will always listen.” 

Severus returned the smile that Harry gave him, but he was still flummoxed by the second bedroom. If Harry hadn’t asked for it, and Severus himself didn’t want it, why was it there at all? Unless this was Albus’ way of giving them a choice? If anyone turned up, it would appear like they had separate rooms, but they could decide between themselves if they actually used it. 

Meddling old coot. 

He shared his theory with Harry, though it appeared that Harry had been coming to the same conclusion on his own while Severus was. Sitting up on the sofa, he held out his arms, waiting for Harry to join him. He did, almost immediately, putting down the book he was reading and almost leaping into Severus’ waiting embrace. 

“You don’t have to share my room, Harry. You have a perfectly good one there, and we can take our time. If, however, you want to share my bed, you will always be welcome.”

“I thought that you were in a bad mood earlier because you felt like Dumbledore had pushed up into letting me stay here with you. I was going to ask if you’d prefer I move back upstairs with the others.” 

Severus shook his head. “I love having you here. All the time. I’d love for you to stay here with me forever. I do love you, Harry, even if I don’t always know the appropriate ways to show or tell you that.” 

Harry leaned up, using a hand to manoeuvre Severus’ face closer to his own, and pressed their lips together gently. It was a soft kiss, slow and full of the love that they felt for each other. Not moving his lips from Severus’, Harry shifted so that he was on his knees, leaning over Severus, one hand still on his cheek, the other buried in his hair. 

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, pulling him in closer, tighter, so that their bodies were pressed against one another. The kiss deepened, a little more passionate, a little more intense than anything they’d done before. 

Harry moved his leg over so that he was straddling Severus’ waist. He was so hard, and he could feel Severus’ erection pressing against his own. Gathering his nerves, he pressed down, grinding them together, moaning into the kiss at the first contact. He felt Severus’ approval, both in the way he moved one hand down to the curve of Harry’s arse to push him down harder, and also in their kiss, which was so hot, Harry was surprised that they hadn’t spontaneously combusted. 

His moans swallowed by Severus’ mouth on his, Harry ground down on Severus, the pleasure unlike anything he’d ever felt before, building, riding inside of him like a tidal wave waiting to crest. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, and as he bit down on Severus’ lips teasingly, he could feel that the other man was getting close as well. 

Harry fell over the edge, his head tipping back in ecstasy as he revelled in the perfection of the moment, hearing Severus utter Harry’s name as their lips parted, he too falling into the delightful abyss of orgasm. 

Panting, Harry let his head rest against Severus’ shoulder, waiting for his heart to calm and his breathing to even out before he attempted to speak. 

“Sev?” 

“Yes, Harry?” Severus asked. 

Harry glanced up and was pleased to see that Severus looked just as relaxed as Harry felt. “When we share a bed, can we do that again?” 

Severus chuckled. “When we share a bed, we’ll do that, and much, much more. It will be my absolute honour to introduce you to all of the pleasures of the flesh, Harry.” 

Harry shuddered happily at the seduction in Severus’ tone. He pressed a kiss to Severus’ cheek. “Good.” 

They sat in contented silence for a while, Harry dozing off once he’d gotten himself comfortable in Severus’ lap, his head nestled in the crook of his neck. This was what he’d wanted; this was what he’d been craving. 

It wasn’t even necessarily about the sex, as amazing as that had been. It was about the intimacy, about the closeness he felt with Severus, the comfort which he got from being able to just be with the man he loved. 

“Sev?” Harry mumbled, more asleep than awake. 

“Hm?” 

“Love you.” 

“I love you too, Harry.” 

… 

Harry glanced over the notes Andromeda had attached to the letter as he sipped his coffee. School had finally broken for the Christmas holidays, though of course, for the young Lord, that didn’t mean all that much in the way of his work load. 

With Harry and Severus’ relationship becoming public, Harry had had to brief the press; it was easier to get his own words out there than let them run wild with their speculation. It didn’t hurt that, now, as a Lord, Harry had a measure of protection, and the Prophet and Witch Weekly knew that there were now limits that they had to keep, lest they bring down the disapproval of the Purebloods on their heads. 

Having access to family assets,lawyers, and a portfolio that had shares in both publications didn’t hurt, either. 

 Of course, the students had been a bit of a pain in the arse. Harry couldn’t do much about the gossipping in the corridors, but he found that it didn’t bother him as much as it usually did. Seamus had been full of apologies when he’d finally been released from the Hospital Wing, and the seventh years didn’t really seem phased by it in general. 

Today, Harry would be making a second—and hopefully last—visit to Malfoy Manor. Harry had received a letter from Narcissa, though both he and Andromeda believed that Lucius had actually written the letter—there was an arrogance to the writing that hadn’t been present in the previous letters he’d received from Narcissa—and there was a thinly veiled demand that they reassess almost all of the clauses in the contract. 

Harry didn’t truly know why he was even bothering. He wasn’t particularly interested in a negotiation, and he was fairly certain that Lucius wouldn’t sign the contract as it currently was. It just seemed like an utter waste of everybody’s time. 

A hand on his shoulder made him look up, and he found Severus standing behind him, reading the letter over his shoulder. 

“You’re meeting with the Malfoy’s again today?” he asked, squeezing Harry’s shoulder gently before he walked around the table to the coffee pot, and then took a seat in the chair beside Harry. 

“Yep. Time to pull on the big boy pants and play up to the Purebloods,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Do you believe that they will accept your contract?” 

“Not really,” Harry admitted. “But honestly, I discussed this with Andromeda, and as profitable as it could be to add the Malfoy portfolio to my own, diminished as it is now, I’m hoping that Lucius’ pride gets in the way. It’s dawned on me that if he accepts the contract, I’ll be responsible for him in a way that I don’t particularly relish.” 

Severus snorted. “Yes, Lucius could test the patience of a saint. I’m actually quite impressed that you haven’t already hexed him.” 

“Hmm,” Harry agreed, dropping the letter to the table with a sniff of disgust. “What have you got planned today?” 

“I have some grading to finish, and the Headmaster has professed a wish to see me later,” Severus replied. “Other than that, nothing terribly exciting.” 

Harry nodded. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back today. Not only are we scheduled to see the Malfoy’s, but I have to visit Gringotts, and then possibly meet with Remus and Tonks to give them the official Black Blessing on their union. Remus and I have missed each other multiple times, it’s getting ridiculous.” 

“That won’t be awkward at all,” Severus quipped, smirking at Harry, who rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, trust me, Andromeda has been almost wetting herself with her enjoyment of the situation and the longer it takes, the more amused she gets. Apparently, my awkwardness with certain matters is one of her favourite things.” 

Severus chuckled as Harry stood up, collecting his cloak as he did. 

“You look fantastic,” Severus complimented. “Every inch the young Lord.” 

When Harry approached him, he wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him close. 

“Hmm, thank you,” Harry replied, nudging Severus’ chin with his nose. “I love you.” 

Severus tilted his head down to kiss him deeply, chuckling at the dreamy look on Harry’s face when he pulled away. “I love you too. Go, or I’m liable to never let you leave.” 

Harry smiled. “That isn’t as compelling as you think it is.” 

Bending for another kiss, Severus gently pushed him away. “Go on. I’ll see you when you get home.” 

Pressing forward for one more kiss, Harry made his way to the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at Severus. “I like the way that sounds.” 

“What?” 

“Home.” 

… 

An hour into the meeting at Malfoy manor, and Harry was the only one still relatively relaxed. Narcissa seemed to be getting more nervous by the second, Andromeda was barely holding her composure against her amusement, and Lucius was practically vibrating with rage. 

“I did warn you that I had no intention of changing the contract without a viable reason,” Harry said, shrugging lightly. “So far, Mr Malfoy, you’ve provided nothing more than a bunch of barely thought out platitudes and meaningless threats. I can see that coming here was absolutely a waste of, not only my valuable time, but Andromeda’s as well.” He shook his head. “I can also see that you have absolutely no intention of signing any contract that I’d be willing to offer, so I believe that it’s time we took our leave.” 

Harry stood up, and Andromeda followed him, apparently as ready as he was to be out of there. Harry reached for Narcissa’s hand and squeezed it gently. 

“Lady Narcissa, the offer for yourself and Draco to receive sanctuary from the House of Black is still on the table, and I won’t remove it. It will be there if, or when, you need it. If you wish to accept it, then simply write me a letter, and I’ll arrange for the contract to be made available to you at the bank.” 

“Now wait just one moment!” Lucius shouted, as Harry turned away. “You cannot make an offer of a contract and then rescind it without true cause, it’s bad business!” 

Harry turned back to him, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve given me plenty of ‘true cause’, Malfoy, in fact you’re lucky that I didn’t take my leave forty-five minutes ago. I refuse to name Draco as my heir, I refuse to petition for your own Lord status to be returned to you, and I refuse to allow you free reign to do as you’d like under my family name. Sign the contract now, as it stands, or don’t, but stop wasting my time. I am done trying to placate you when, truly, I have no need to do so.” 

“I refuse to allow a child the ability to dictate my moves,” Lucius growled. 

“Then we’re done here.” Harry summoned the contract from the table beside Lucius with wandless magic and turned it to ash. “Lady Narcissa, remember my offer. We’ll see ourselves out.” 

Harry led the way through Malfoy Manor, Andromeda a step behind him. He was rather glad that the ordeal was over with; Lucius had already made too much of a pain of himself, and it would have only continued had he signed the contract. At least this way, Harry didn’t have to entertain another thought about the disgraced man. 

The two of them had just hit the fresh air when they heard Harry’s name being called. 

“Potter! Potter!” 

Sighing, Harry stopped walking and turned to look at Lucius. “What do you want?” 

“I’ll sign your bloody contract,” Lucius sighed. 

Harry blinked. The contract had been turned to ash. Harry could get another copy of it, of course, but did he actually want to? He stared at Lucius, and then Narcissa, who’d come to stand just behind him, and he saw a defeated man who loved his wife. He saw a man with no pride left, clinging to the one thing in the world that was still good. 

It struck a chord within him, and he sighed. 

Did he truly have it in him to break up a marriage that was clearly strong, despite all of the odds? 

He glanced at Andromeda, who shrugged slightly, and then looked back at Lucius. “The two of you have a very strong marriage, don’t you?” He looked over Lucius’ shoulder at Narcissa, who had a single tear running down her face. “Lady Narcissa? You wish to stay with your husband?” 

She nodded, silently. 

With one final look at Andromeda, who nodded slightly this time, clearly understanding what he was thinking of doing, Harry squared his shoulders. 

“I’m not getting another copy of the contract. It’s done, and I’m not going back on that.” Lucius opened his mouth to protest, but Harry held his hand up. “Allow me to finish. I will extend a familial loan to Narcissa. The repayments will be dealt with by the bank, and won’t begin until Draco can comfortably afford it. He’s only a few years away from being able to take on the Lord Malfoy mantle, and I truly believe that he can turn things around for your family, but you have to let him do so. I… I don’t want to be responsible for breaking up such a strong marriage.” 

Lucius stared at Harry. Narcissa stepped forward, reaching for both of Harry’s hands. “Lord Potter-Black… thank you.” 

Harry nodded. He kissed her cheek, and then stepped back. “I don’t have the time to iron out the details right now, but the bank will be in contact with you in early January to sort everything out.” He smiled slightly at her. “Despite everything, we’re family now, and that means something. And I have faith in Draco, I truly do.” 

She smiled and nodded her head. “As do I.” 

Harry stepped back. He nodded at Lucius. “Mr Malfoy.” 

Swallowing his pride, possibly because of the surprising offer, Lucius offered him a half bow. “Lord Potter-Black.” 

Harry turned and walked away, Andromeda falling into step beside him. 

“That was a good thing that you just did, Harry,” she murmured. “It was something that most Lords wouldn’t have done, especially given your history with him.” 

Harry sighed. “I just… can’t break up a marriage like that. It’s not my place to do so. I feel like this is for the best; I won’t have to deal with Malfoy now, and they can stay together and… do whatever it is that they do.” 

She snorted. 

“I feel terrible that Remus is sick again, but I can’t deny that he timed it well. I really don’t have time to see him and Tonks now,” Harry said, as the two of them walked down the winding path to the Apparition point outside of Malfoy Manor. 

Andromeda chuckled. “You can give them the blessing in writing, if you prefer, you know?” 

Harry stopped, glaring at her. “You couldn’t tell me that before?” 

She shrugged, still laughing. “I enjoy making you squirm occasionally.” 

“You’re horrible to me.” 

She linked her arm through his as they continued their walk. “You still love me.” 

… 

When Severus entered the room she now shared with Harry, he was surprised to find his mate lying face down on the sofa, a pillow covering his head. Frowning, he approached silently, lifting the pillow as he crouched down beside Harry. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Headache,” Harry mumbled, groaning slightly. “Bloody Malfoys, and Goblins, and Christmas shopping with hoards of people who all want an autograph when I’m clearly busy. Hell.” 

“Have you taken a potion?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“I didn’t know where they were, and I didn’t want to go rooting around in your potions cupboard. I’d have probably taken something that I shouldn’t have, and made myself feel even worse.” 

Severus summoned one silently, prompting Harry to sit up so that he could drink it, which he did so, downing it in one go. 

He grimaced. “I think you make these taste as ghastly as you can on purpose,” he complained, handing over the empty vial. Almost immediately, his headache started to ease away and he sighed in relief. “But thank you.” 

“Of course,” Severus replied, sitting down beside Harry. “So. Very bad day?” 

Harry nodded. “Lucius tried my patience, but that was probably to be expected. Then my account manager lectured me for a solid hour when I went to the bank to sort out a few things, and then, because I’m a whole entire idiot, I decided to go into Diagon Alley since I was there anyway, to pick up a few bits and pieces for Christmas that I hadn’t gotten around to getting yet, and I got hounded the entire time by people wanting photographs and autographs from the ‘saviour’. He shook his head. “Now I remember why I had planned to go to the beach for the Christmas break.” 

Severus nodded, pulling Harry in for a hug. “How does a meal out in Muggle London sound? I have a table booked for eight.” 

Harry smiled, leaning up for a kiss. “You’re perfect, do you know that?” 

“I thought that today may be hard on you,” Severus replied quietly. “And I’m selfish enough to want you to be happy.” 

“You make me happy,” Harry murmured, nibbling on Severus’ ear. “If we’re going to dinner, does that mean I can have you for dessert?” 

Snorting, Severus pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple. “We have time. If you’re having me for dessert, I think I’ll have you for my appetiser.” 

… 

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” Severus demanded, the very moment Harry stepped through the door into the living room. 

Harry blinked. “Was that a trick question? I told you that I was going to be busy today.” 

He hung his cloak up on the stand beside the door and closed the door behind him. 

“Andromeda popped into the floo this morning, twenty minutes after you left,” Severus growled. 

“Okay,” Harry replied, still baffled by Severus’ apparent anger. “What did she want?” 

“To see if you were free for lunch,” Severus said. “But since I had no idea where you were, because I thought that you were going to be with her today, obviously, I couldn’t tell her.” 

“Oh. I’ll send her a message over with Kreacher in a minute to apologise for missing her. I still don’t understand why you’re so upset, Sev.” 

“Where. Have. You. Been?” 

Taken aback by the amount of anger Severus managed to push into those four words, Harry frowned, his eyes taking in the posture and clenched fists of the other man, the furious look in his eyes and the tightness of his features. Slowly, the situation sunk in, and Harry realised that his partner, his mate, didn’t trust him. 

Because it shouldn’t matter where Harry had been, and Severus certainly had absolutely no reason to be angry with him. 

Hurt and anger blossomed equally in Harry, and he grabbed his cloak from the stand he’d just placed it on. 

“Out,” he snapped. “Which is where I’ll be going now. Don’t wait up, Severus.” 

Turning around, Harry swung the door back open and slammed his way out of their rooms, the door banging shut behind him. He heard it open again when he was half way down the corridors, and Severus called his name, but Harry ignored him, stalking away down the hall. 

Idiotic, jealous, insecure Veela’s were a pain in the ass, Harry thought violently, as he made his way out to the Quidditch Pitch. He hadn’t thought to grab his broom on his way out, so he’d have to make do with one of the school brooms, but it would be worth it. 

Flying always made him feel better. 

Once he’d flown out most of his aggression, Harry started lazily lapping the pitch. His anger had faded, leaving only a deep seated hurt behind that Severus didn’t trust him. Where did the man actually think he had been? Out getting his end away with someone else? Idiot. 

Why would he even think that Harry would do something like that? Why would he think that Harry would ever do anything to intentionally hurt him? Hadn’t Harry tried time and time again to prove to Severus that, regardless of anything else, he’d rather be at Severus’ side? 

Shaking his head, Harry tilted the broom down, lowering himself slowly to the ground. He had to return at some point, and while he didn’t know how long he’d been outside, the moon was now high in the sky, and it was definitely late. 

Stowing the broom in the shed, Harry slowly made his way back towards the castle. 

“Harry.” 

Unsurprised to find Severus standing in the shadows, Harry simply looked at the man. He was unwilling to take the first step this time, knowing with full certainty that he hadn’t done anything wrong. 

“I’m sorry,” Severus said quietly, hesitantly approaching Harry. “I thought, when you said that you were going to be busy, that you would be spending the day with Andromeda, and when she had no idea where you were, I reacted badly.” 

Harry nodded. That much had been clear from the moment he returned home. 

“I’ve spent the day being entirely unproductive, fearing worse and worse scenarios the longer you were gone. I’m sorry,” Severus repeated, holding out his hand for Harry to take. 

Harry did so, linking their fingers together. 

“What will it take for you to trust me?” he whispered, the desperation clear in his tone. 

The sadness in Severus’ eyes deepened, and he shook his head. “I didn’t believe you were out somewhere with… Harry, I didn’t think that you were out having fun with someone else. I do trust you. I thought that you were in trouble. Nobody knew where you were, you’d told me nothing about your plans for the day… I thought that something had happened to you, that there was something wrong.” 

Harry closed the distance between them, dropping Severus’ hand so that he could wrap his arms around the man. He could feel the truth of Severus’ words in the way he gripped Harry, pulling him impossibly closer, as though he was literally trying to fuse their bodies together. 

“I’m not going to tell you what I was doing,” Harry murmured, pulling back just enough that he could see Severus’ eyes. “But I promise, it was nothing dangerous, and it was something for you. Just… wait a few more days, okay?” 

Understanding filled Severus’ eyes, and he nodded. “Okay. I am sorry, Harry.” 

Pressing their lips together, Harry kissed him and then smiled. “Take me home, Sev. I’m bloody freezing.” 

… 

Harry was glad that he’d finished preparing Severus’ Christmas presents the day he’d been ‘missing’, because the following days were blissfully quiet and simple. The day after their misunderstanding, the two of them had Apparated to Glasgow, where they’d had fun choosing the last of their presents for friends and colleagues, enjoying the chance to spend the day away from the castle together. 

Christmas Eve found the two of them sitting in front of the fire, wrapped around each other as they talked quietly, Harry keeping one eye on the clock. 

As midnight struck, he smiled at Severus before he gently pulled out of his arms and slid down onto the floor on his knees. Pulling out the box he’d hidden right at the back of the tree, he enlarged it and began pulling things from inside it while Severus watched on in stunned silence. 

“Harry…?” 

With a simple smile, Harry nodded his head at his mate, laying the things carefully on the floor around him, lighting the three candles with his wand. 

“Severus Snape,” he began. “I accept you into my heart.” 

Harry spoke clearly, keeping his eyes on Severus as he blew out the first candle. 

“I accept you into my soul,” he murmured, blowing out the second candle. As he blew out the third—and biggest—candle, he said, “And I accept you with my magic.” 

A single tear fell down Severus’ cheek as Harry, still kneeling on the floor, pushed the first wrapped present towards Severus, depositing it carefully at his feet. 

“Severus, with this gift, I accept your beautiful mind, and all of the intelligence that comes with it.” 

Severus opened the present with nimble fingers, though he fumbled a little as his emotions got the best of him. He gasped when he saw Salazar Slytherin’s potions journal in the carefully wrapped box. 

“Harry—” 

Harry raised his eyebrow. Severus knew that Harry could respond to any questions at the moment. Smiling at the look on Severus’ face, Harry continued on with the ritual. 

“With this gift, I accept you, and everything you are, as my family.” 

The largest box of the bunch was opened to find the most luxurious cloak Severus had ever felt. When he pulled it out of the box, he found the Potter, Black and Gryffindor crests embroidered into the fabric, along with the Prince crest. 

“With this gift, I hope to prove to you that for as long as you want me, I’ll be yours.” 

With a small frown on his face—the only sign that he was feeling a little concerned about the gift Harry had chosen—Severus opened the third box that was deposited at his feet. 

He gasped for a second time when he saw the Potter bonding bracelets in the box, and a few more stray tears fell from his eyes. 

With the ritual almost complete, Harry slipped off the dressing gown he’d been wearing, and waved his hand to release the glamour he’d applied earlier in the evening, to hide the ritual runes etched onto his skin. Severus traced them with his eyes, disbelief in his gaze. 

“I call upon the ancient magics to officiate my bond to you, Severus Snape,” Harry whispered, his eyes never once moving away from Severus. “And I pray that you accept my pledge as wholly and completely as I accept you.” 

As soon as the final words were spoken, Severus was off the sofa, covering Harry’s body with his own as he tipped him onto the plush, fire-warmed rug. His lips covered Harry’s as his hands trailed up his sides, the wonder of such an incredible gift filling him up from the inside out. 

Pulling back, he stroked a hand down Harry’s cheek. “I love you, Harry Potter. So much, I love you.” 

“As I love you,” Harry replied, calmly, though his eyes shone brighter than normal. “Make us one, Severus. Make me wholly yours.” 

“Forever,” Severus vowed, silently summoning the lubricant from the bedroom. “Forever mine.” 

… 

Waking was a slow process, and as Harry stretched out his limbs, the flash of pain brought back beautiful memories of the night before. Severus was wrapped around him, and when Harry looked up, it was to find the dark eyes of his mate watching him, full of contentment. 

“Good morning,” Severus murmured, nudging his nose against the side of Harry’s head. 

“Merry Christmas,” Harry replied, turning just slightly so that he could press himself even closer to Severus. 

“How are you feeling?” Severus asked, stroking a hand down Harry’s back. 

Harry grinned at him. “Never been better.” 

“What you did last night…” Severus shook his head. “I have no words to tell you how much that meant to me,” he whispered, shifting down on the bed so that their faces were level. “I love you.” 

His grin softening into a gentle smile, Harry pressed their lips together. “Come on, we should get up. It’s Christmas, and you know that the Headmaster won’t let us get away with lazing the day away in bed.” 

Harry rolled out of the bed and Severus made an incoherent noise. Harry turned to look at him, to find him staring at Harry, his eyes wide. Raising his eyebrow at his stunned mate, Harry continued to the bathroom to check himself in the mirror. 

The answer to Severus’ shock was found on Harry’s back. The previous night, when Harry had finished the ritual, the runes had sunk into his skin, disappearing as though they’d never been there. Now though, there was a line of runes down Harry’s spine. He’d known that it was a possibility, depending on the strength of the bond between them, but even he was surprised to see so many of them. 

“You really were made for me,” Severus murmured against Harry’s shoulder when he came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. 

Harry smiled at him through the mirror as he leant back against his chest. “I already knew that.” 

Severus nodded. “I know you did. You have a startling amount of faith in me, Harry.” 

“Perhaps now, you’ll start having faith in yourself.” 

… 

Six Months Later

… 

Harry stood at the side of the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione. He couldn’t believe that Graduation was finally there, but they’d somehow, against all of the odds, made it to the end. It was actually quite impressive that the three of them had made it through seven years when one considered everything they’d faced during that time. 

A warm body pressed up behind him, and Harry smiled, leaning back into the embrace as arms wrapped around his waist. 

“Congratulations.” 

The word was spoken quietly, and it was followed by a soft kiss being pressed against the side of his neck. 

“Thanks,” he replied, his voice just as quiet. “Are you ready to go?” 

“I’ve been ready for three weeks,” Severus replied, making Harry laugh. “Kreacher has collected the suitcases and delivered them to the hotel already.” 

Harry nodded and then smiled at his friends. Severus let go of him as Hermione pressed forwards to give Harry a hug. 

“Make sure you send lots of postcards,” she demanded, tears welling in her eyes as she released him into the strong arms of Ron, who hugged him tightly, but quickly. 

“And photos,” Hermione added. “And letters.” 

Harry grinned at her. “I will, I promise. It’s only two months, Hermione. We’ll be back before you know it.” 

“I know,” she replied, running a hand through the ends of her hair. “It’s just… different.” 

Harry nodded, hugging her again. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear, squeezing her for a moment. Releasing her, he pulled Ron into a proper hug, before he stepped back into Severus’ waiting embrace. 

“Look after her,” he said to Ron, nodding his head at Hermione, who giggled and rolled her eyes at him. “You’re my best mate, and I’d really hate to have to hurt you.” 

Ron nodded seriously, taking the words for what they were. “I know, mate. I will, I promise. Have a good time.” 

Winking, Harry nodded. “I intend to.” 

Severus nodded to the two of them, and then pulled Harry to the door. Harry turned to wave to his friends one last time before he and Severus stepped out of the castle into the bright summer sun. 

… 

The hotel was beautiful—and completely irrelevant. 

As soon as they closed the door to their room, Severus had pressed Harry up against it, laying butterfly kisses along his jaw. 

“Mine,” he murmured, pressing the word into Harry’s skin. 

Harry smiled. “Forever.”