Title: Promises to Keep
Author: thescarletwoman
Team: Phoenix
Genre(s): AU
Prompt(s): Trial, Miles to Go Before I sleep
Rating: NC-17
Warning/Kinks: *adult content; hand jobs *
Word Count: ~18,400
Summary: Placed under house arrest before the trial, Severus has to rely on the kindness of strangers for his every need. When those strangers attempt to murder him before the trial, Harry takes over his care and his legal defense much to Severus' utter dismay. Harry shoehorns himself into Severus' life and Severus learns there are some things worth living for.
A/N: A large thank you, as always to my amazing beta rose_whispers for holding my hand and providing encouragement. Any mistakes left after her nitpicking are my own. And also to the rest of Team Phoenix for helping me to get the ball rolling! Dialogue in the final scenes taken from Deathly Hallows, pg 543-545 of the Bloomsbury Hardcover Edition.

Promises to Keep

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

The only thing worse than having to live in this utter hellhole was that Harry Sodding Potter was his care-taker. He had survived Nagini's bite, though slightly the worse for wear because of it, and he had even survived the war in general only to find himself under the watchful eye of Boy Wonder. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any worse, Wizardkind had to throw this curve ball in his direction. Frankly, Severus would have been content to die alone in the damn Shack if he knew what his survival had in store for him.

Potter was nothing short of a busy-body. How else could he have found out about Carlton's neglectful care?

Severus sat at the old, worn desk in his former bedroom, now converted study at Spinner's End, staring blankly at the open book before him. His eyes may have been scanning the words on the page, but none of the text was sinking in. Any minute now, Potter would arrive with the bags of groceries that would sustain him for the upcoming week. The bare necessities, of course: bread, meat, fruits and vegetables. Severus' stomach rumbled in anticipation of the delivery and was reminded of the number of weeks he'd gone without food when Carlton forgot to bring the food allotment. During those long days he had been forced to ration his meals, eating only the bare minimum he needed in order to sustain himself.

Carlton had lasted three months and during that time, Severus had seen the man a total of six times. While the lack of food may have helped his girlish figure, it was not helping him to recuperate. Occasionally during those months Severus would find an additional box of food sitting on his front step. No one had knocked when the drop-offs occurred and by the time Severus found the boxes, the local wildlife had sought fit to eat most of the food.

That Severus had fallen to such a low state that he would finish a loaf of bread that had been gnawed on by Merlin knew what was depressing indeed.

Death by starvation. Perhaps that was going to be their game. In all honesty, Severus would have preferred to have been killed by Nagini's venom. That would have been a much quicker death.

He'd shown mercy to Albus. Why wasn't the same mercy afforded to him?

Someone had apparently figured out what had been going on and the following week had brought a new face at his front door: Carlton was replaced by Garner. The man had a peculiar way about him and his face looked as if his nose had been broken several times but never been set properly. Severus didn't care what the man looked like, so long as he didn't have to resort to chopping off his own body parts for food.

If anything Garner seemed overzealous to accommodate Severus' every wish. That should have been an immediate tip-off, but Severus was too happy to have a weekly (or even semi-weekly at times) supply of food and Potions ingredients. Weekly, the man had included 'surprises' ranging from canisters of Earl Grey tea to cleverly disguised bottles of Firewhisky or brandy.

The alcohol went a long way towards soothing Severus' restless spirit. He didn't drown himself in the bottle by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly helped take the edge off his nerves. His own experiences with his father had taught him that happiness was not found in the bottom of an amber bottle. Clear perhaps, but definitely not amber. It served as a distraction, nothing more. At least, that's what Severus continually told himself every time he poured himself a drink. God bless Garner who seemed to know just what he needed.

Really, who would blame him for pouring himself a good stiff drink when he found Potter on his doorstep wanting to talk about the damned trial? Garner had been nice enough to bring something different in today's delivery: dark and spicy, a mystery of the Orient Garner had called it. The aroma was pure heaven when Severus uncorked the bottle and while he didn't want to waste such an exotic gift on Potter's presence, he needed something to get through this impromptu meeting. Severus really didn't care what happened at this point as he knew the Wizarding world would think whatever they wanted, regardless of the evidence provided against him. If the Wizengamot wanted to prove him guilty, they'd skew the scant evidence however they pleased.

Besides, all they would have to do was look at the history of spells he'd cast. The strike that had cut off George's ear and most importantly, the fatal curse that had ended Albus Dumbledore's life prematurely. That's all they'd see — not the reasons why. Actions spoke louder than words, did they not?

But no, Potter had some seven point plan that would lead them to victory and he seemed content to go into great detail with each and every idea that would see Severus to innocence. Who could blame Severus for wanting a drink or three to accompany the drivel? It was Potter though, who seemed to take this as some sort of offense. He had dashed forward, knocking the bottle from his hand and all Severus could do was watch it arc in the air, sailing gracefully before crashing into the ground. The moment it hit the hardwood floor, the bottle shattered sending glass shards flying everywhere while the dark liquid began to seep into the floor. With a growl, Severus had turned on Harry, his hands wrapping around the boy's throat. In one stupid move, Potter had robbed him of that night's relaxation (and consequential inebriation as well).

"Bottle!" Harry gasped, clawing at the hand squeezing his neck, cutting off his airflow.

"Yes, the bottle has broken and you have deprived me of one of the few pleasures left to me."

"Would — Been — Last."

"Would have been my last what?" Severus hissed, his face inches from Harry's.

"Poison."

That word hit home. Snarling, Severus pushed Harry away and ignored his piteous sounds as he gulped down oxygen that had been denied to him. Severus bent down to inspect the wet floor boards, drawing his finger through the evaporating liquid. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, wondering if the grittiness was from his unswept floor or from something else.

Once he smelled it, though, there was no denying it.

Poison and a strong one at that. Had Harry not been there to warn him, he would have tossed the drink back without another thought.

Moments later he would have crashed to the floor and there would have been nothing anyone could have done. There wouldn't have been any hope for a Beazor (even if Potter could have thought to get one from his stores). Dhagdar killed instantly. The liquid form of Avada Kedavra.

And now he owed Potter his life. On top of that, the Boy Who Lived apparently thought he was going to appoint himself Severus' personal caretaker.

Severus was beginning to wish that Nagini's venom had killed him then. Anything to avoid having to spend time with Potter.

"You're late," Severus spat, slamming the door behind Harry.

"Considering your first caretaker attempted to starve you and your second attempted to poison you, I wouldn't complain about my tardiness," Harry replied, stamping the snow from his boots. "I'd take late over death any day."

"You're not me."

"Thank god for that."

Severus bit down on his cheek to keep from smiling. At long last, Potter had managed to find a backbone and the ability to engage in intelligent repartee. He was too used to the boy throwing childish insults back at him, much the same as the elder Potter had done during their school years. Severus almost had to applaud Harry. Almost.

"I've brought you... well, your supplies," Harry said, dropping the box of goods at Severus' feet.

When the box hit the floor, there was the sound of breaking glass and the accompanying smell of tomatoes. The bastard had broken the jar of tomato sauce he had specifically asked for. Severus sighed, silently lamenting the loss. All he had wanted was a nice bowl of pasta. Was that too much to ask for?

"Are you even listening to me?" Harry demanded, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Severus arched an eyebrow and bent down to pick up the box without responding one way or the other. He may have been able to continue brewing but he was still annoyed over the fact that the Ministry had seen fit to take his wand while he was under house arrest. It wasn't as if he was going to transfigure himself into a pillow and hope he got taken out with the wash or any such nonsense. Severus groaned under the weight of the box. It was undignified is what it was.

"You know, you're still just as much of a prick as you always were," Harry said, following Severus into the small kitchen. "And yes, I called you a prick," Harry said, repeating the insult. "Because I'm no longer a student and I can tell you exactly what I think of you!"

"Please, don't let me hold you back," Severus replied drolly. "Once you've exhausted your limited vocabulary of insults, I'm sure there's a thesaurus around here that you can use to find a few more."

"And here I came to help you."

"That was your first mistake."

Harry made a strangled noise and kicked the closest object within reach, which happened to be one of Severus' chairs. It skittered across the kitchen floor before toppling over in a cloud of dust. "Haven't you ever heard of cleaning?" Harry asked, waving a hand in front of his face. "I thought you were the king of neatness."

"I am, in things that matter," Severus replied. "There is not a speck of dust in my laboratory. As I spend most of my time there or with my books, those need to be clean. I only cook in here and do not even eat here. Thus, there's no reason to waste my time cleaning that which I do not use. My time is better served elsewhere."

Not that he had a lot of other things to do, of course.

Without being asked to do so, Harry righted the upset chair and took a seat, resting his chin on the slatted back. Severus set to unpacking the box, careful not to cut himself on the shards of glass and gollops of sauce that littered the contents. A towel carefully removed all traces of red from the various packages and cans. Severus worked in silence, not about to start any sort of conversation with Harry.

"Now that I have your attention," Harry said, seeming to ignore the fact that Severus was doing everything in his power not to pay Harry any heed, "I wanted to talk to you about the trial."

"It starts in two weeks. The entire Wizarding world thinks I'm guilty. You are operating under the gross misconception that I care about the trial or its result," Severus said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"I don't believe you," Harry replied, eyes narrowing slightly. "In all the time I've known you — you've been nothing if not a survivor. And now you're giving up just like that?"

"People change, Potter."

"You don't," Harry said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You don't change and the way I know that is you were always a bastard to me during school. You never once let up on me. Now you're the one giving up?"

The box was mostly empty save for a few jars Severus didn't want to risk pulling out. He had no desire to cut his fingers to ribbons just for a jar of applesauce. He set the box on the floor, sparing a glance at Harry who seemed to be waiting for an answer to his statement. If there was a response floating in the back of Severus' mind, he sure as hell wasn't about to share it with Potter.

As if wanting to end the conversation, Severus turned his back on Harry without so much as a response to any of the accusations. He set about making tea, pulling only one cup down from the cupboard. He had no desire to continue the conversation any longer than necessary. Potter, however, missed the subtle cues. Severus had a feeling the only way Potter was going to leave him in peace was if he was bodily thrown from the house.

If only Severus had his wand. Without it, he couldn't throw Potter nearly as far as he'd like to at this moment in time.

"Well, if you didn't want to be granted innocence, why did you give me all those memories?" Harry countered, throwing the words at Severus' back.

Severus stiffened imperceptibly, his hand shaking slightly as he measured out the tea leaves for his cup. This was not an avenue he wanted to revisit.

"If you didn't want me—"

"Because I thought I was dying!" Severus spat, whirling around to face Harry. Severus' eyes were wild and Harry shrank away from him, nearly toppling out of the chair in his effort to get away from the madman. "Because people do stupid things when their life is about to end. Mine was giving you a host of visions you should have never been privy to. It's a fact I cannot change and if those 'memories' are what's brought about this vendetta to see the guilty verdict erased, take up another cause. I don't want, nor do I need your help."

With a final snarl, Severus poured the hot water into his cup, hiding a grimace when a few drops scalded his hand, and swept from the room. Yes, it was his fault that he had given Harry the memories and the final proof of his innocence, but that did not mean he wanted Potter to become his personal savior. If there was one person in the world he did not want to be beholden to, it was Harry Potter.

Severus flung himself into a chair, cursing as the tea sloshed over the sides of the cup to burn him once more. Already angry welts were starting to form on his thumb and index finger but Severus refused to get the salve. Not until after Potter had left him in peace. He sipped his tea, back to the door in a clear statement that he wanted nothing more to do with Harry.

One thing Severus should have learned over the course of the past thirty years was that things never went according to his plan. So when he heard footfalls behind him, the floorboards protesting weight being put on them, he shouldn't have been surprised Harry had ignored his wish for solitude.

"I'm going to see to it that your innocence is known and I will do whatever it takes to free you. You did too much for the Wizarding world and to defeat Voldemort." Harry pressed on, ignoring the shudder that went through Severus' body at the mention of that name. "Even when you had to play the role of Death Eater, you didn't turn your back on the Order. I'm not turning my back on you now."

Arching his head backwards, Severus looked at an upside-down Harry. "You forget," he said, voice slightly pinched from the angle of his neck, "that I killed Albus Dumbledore. I did kill him and I'm not going to deny it either."

"But he was close to death!" Harry shouted. "He asked you to."

"My word against what the rest of the world perceives."

"And your memories," Harry added.

Severus returned his head to its usual upright position. "It does not matter," he said, taking another sip. "Besides, why should you care? I distinctly remember any number of instances when you were my pupil that it seemed you wished death upon me. Don't tell me a couple memories about how I was in love with your mother changed things."

"It didn't."

"So answer the question. Why do you care?" Severus set the cup down and swiveled his body to look at Harry. "Why do you honestly care what happens to me?"

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, the toe of his trainer digging into a gouge in the hard wood floor. "Because it's the right thing to do," He mumbled after a pause that seemed to last half an eternity. "Because if it wasn't for you, we'd all be bowing to Voldemort."

"You mean those of you who had the purity of blood," Severus replied dryly. "I believe your blood traitors, Muggle-borns and half-bloods would have long since been exterminated." Severus held up a hand. "And before you even question my own blood standing, we Slytherins who manage to worm our way into useful service would have been spared. The Dark Lord knew there was no finer Potions master than the weakling half-blood you see before you."

"You're not weak," Harry said fiercely. "Though giving up, you're acting like it."

Harry turned on his heel, putting his back to Severus. At last, peace and quiet until the next visit from Boy Wonder.

"I'll see you in two hours."

Severus moved so quickly, he kicked over the coffee table, sending his teacup flying. It broke upon hitting the floor, sending dark liquid and tea leaves spreading across the small rug his mother had used as an 'accent piece'.

"You will do no such thing. Your next visit is a week from now," Severus said through clenched teeth.

"I will be back in two hours. If you expect me to win this case for you, I'll need access to you twenty-four hours a day. Besides, if someone is trying to kill you, what better deterrent is there than an Auror living under your roof?"

"You cannot be serious."

Harry smirked, giving Severus a mock bow. "I'll return shortly and the wards will be altered. I wouldn't do anything potions-wise that would jeopardize the Ministry wards. I'd hate to have to report to the Ministry that my charge is being uncooperative and hostile."

"You want to see hostile? Just wait until tonight, Potter."

With a wave, Harry ducked out of the house and shut the door behind him. Severus couldn't hex or blow anything up without his wand so he had to content himself with re-opening and slamming the front door of the cottage so hard that he could hear the glass in the windows shake.

Venom, starvation and a rare poison: none of which had managed to kill him.

It seemed that death by Potter would finally do him in.

One thing that is important to understand about Severus Snape was that he presented quite a front to the world at large, even those who claimed to know him best. When he walked into the trial chamber the morning of January eleventh, his head was held high and he moved at a slow and stately pace, even if it was to hide the dull throbbing of his leg. He carried with him no cane, though he may have longed to have something to lean upon as he moved in front of those who would serve as judge, jury and executioner.

He would not appear weak, no matter what the cost was to his own person.

Taking his seat in the centre of the galley, chains encircled his legs holding him firmly in position, though thankfully they had left his hands free for movement. From above, Severus could feel the eyes of the Wizengamot on him, could hear the hushed whispers as they looked down on him from their positions on high. Fifty Witches and Wizards in those ugly plum coloured robes were the ones who held his future in the palm of their hands. Why couldn't they spare him this humiliation and deliver the verdict of guilty so he could get on with dying? A fatalistic view on life perhaps, but Severus had always prided himself on being realistic.

"I'm here! I'm here!" A voice came from the back of the hall, each word punctuated by the sound of soles slapping the marble floor.

Oh for the love of...

Severus barely resisted the urge to bury his face with his hands. The Boy Savior couldn't even arrive at a trial in a timely fashion. Severus vaguely wondered if Harry would manage to be late to his own funeral.

"You're late," Severus hissed out of the corner of his mouth after Harry skidded to a stop beside them. "It seems I'm still chastising you for your inability to arrive anywhere on time."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Harry replied, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Besides, I had business to attend to."

"What, pray tell, is more important than being at my trial on time? You're the one so hell bent on seeing my name cleared. I would have thought you'd have made more of a conscious effort to be here promptly. Early would have been even better but I'll settle for your presence at the stroke of nine."

"Is it possible for you to be any more of a git?"

"Mister Potter and Mister Snape!" Shaklebolt's voice boomed out over the courtroom. Both men fell silent, though Harry had (Severus noted with amusement) a hint of a blush colouring his cheeks. "In light of recent events and the current rebuilding, the Wizengamot has voted unanimously to allow me to conduct these hearings until such a time as a new Chief Warlock can be nominated."

There was a smattering of applause and other affirmative murmurs throughout the Courtroom Number 10 while the scribe who sat just to Severus' left anxiously wrote down every word of the proceedings.

"Furthermore," Shaklebolt continued, "Mister Potter, should you wish to continue to act as counsel for the accused, may I suggest that you arrive in a more timely manner?"

Potter coloured even further and looked as if he wanted to disappear under a rock somewhere. While a smirk may have found its way to Severus' face, he shocked himself by feeling an unusual emotion at Potter's discomfort: sympathy. While he took great pleasure in chastising the boy whenever he had the opportunity to do so, it was an entirely different set of circumstances to watch Shaklebolt do it in the Ministry and in the middle of a trial. Severus swallowed hard, pushing the emotion back down and walling it off. The day he felt anything but contempt and utter loathing for Potter was the day he'd dress in pink and sing 'I'm a Little Tea Pot'.

To his right, Harry had drawn up a chair and desk and was hastily spread his copious notes out before himself. Severus was well aware of the trial Harry had gone through shortly before his fifth year began. This, however, was nothing like that experience. Hopefully Potter understood that fact.

Shacklebolt turned his attention to a short, squinty-eyed Wizard sitting directly to his left. "Charles Pickawke, please read the charges against the accused."

"Severus Tobias Snape. You stand accused of the following high crimes and misdemeanours. The most grievous of these include the charge of the ruthless murder of former Chief Warlock Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore on the night of June Fourteenth Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-Six. The murder was committed using one of the Unforgivable Curses. Other crimes include..."

Severus found his attention waning as the squeaky voice read out the remainder of the charges. Out of the corner of his eye, he managed to catch sight of Harry who was looking more and more pale with each passing charge. Severus almost felt like using the childish argument 'I told you so', as the list of accusations grew longer and longer. The flowery prose did nothing to improve the situation either. It was nearly noon by the time Pickawke finished reading the whole of the charges. More than half of them were grossly exaggerated and there were a few that Severus knew were not only fallacies but were crimes he never could have committed.

Rape? Please.

It was the murder of Albus Dumbledore that Pickawke kept returning to, mentioning how Snape had killed him in a fit of fury in an act of a madman who had finally had enough of playing the double life and who wanted to openly pledge his allegiance to He Who Must Not Be Named.

"Severus Tobias Snape," Shaklebolt said, his dark eyes boring into Severus'. "You stand accused of the aforementioned charges. Do you deny it?"

Lifting his chin in a sign of defiance, Severus made a split-second decision. He could either make Potter's life easier or a living hell. Considering the fact that he had to live with the man, he figured what harm could be done by simply agreeing? The vast majority of the charges were true, if exaggerated.

"Yes."

"Let the record show that the accused has stated in the affirmative."

"I, however," Harry said, rising to his feet, "will prove that Severus Snape is innocent of the charges. And those he may have committed, were done so under the orders of Albus Dumbledore."

And here they went: Potter playing the hero. Severus had one final chance to put a chink in the armor, even if it meant cutting his own throat.

"On the advice of my... counsel," Severus began, his mouth contorting as he found himself forced to say that Harry was on his side, "I will state that some of the accusations are gross exaggerations. A few of those belong as a plot in some bad mystery novel," Severus continued, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "But if you're asking if I killed Albus Dumbledore, then yes, I did. And I will not deny it."

To his right, Severus could hear Potter banging his head against the table he had conjured. Severus had never said he would be an easy client.

"Things aren't going well, Snape."

"What was your first clue?" Severus asked, idly turning to page four of the Prophet to finish reading the latest drivel Skeeter had cooked up. "The fact that propaganda in the Prophet seems to be increasing exponentially with each passing day, or the fact that the entire Wizengamot looks at me picturing a noose around my neck?"

"They're not going to hang you. It's too Muggle."

"It's a bloody figure of speech!" Severus raged, the final words coming out like more of a growl than any coherent phrases. He slammed the paper on the table, their half-empty tea cups dancing across the surface with the force of the blow.

"So, her words are bothering you. Imagine that."

"I mind when not only blatant lies are written about me in addition to whatever asinine biography she has cooked up." Severus held up the Prophet and glared at the moving image of Skeeter primping herself. "Tomorrow, she is printing my family history that will, supposedly, explain what led me to pursue this life of crime."

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back in his chair, balancing precariously on two legs. "Imagine my shock that Rita is concocting stories again. Now you know how I felt during the whole of the Triwizard Tournament."

"I have no wish to sympathize with you, Potter," Severus said, rising to his feet. "This conversation is over. The sooner the trial is over, the sooner you will leave my house —"

"— And you'll be dead," Harry interrupted, letting the chair fall forward with a clatter. "We need to change our strategy. I need you to let me use those memories you gave me."

"We," Severus began, emphasizing the word, "don't need to change anything. What I need is to be left alone in my final days on earth. Or are you feeling content to make my life miserable in what could be my final months? If that is the case... I swear I'll come back and haunt you every day for the rest of your life."

"Come back and haunt me? Surely you can be more creative than that. I'm disappointed."

"You dare insult me?"

"Yes. You're being melodramatic and uninspiring as well. I can't even give you points for effort."

"As far as I was aware, Potter, I'm the one who rewards and subtracts points."

"Not anymore you're not. You're a prisoner, my prisoner in fact."

"I am no one's prisoner, least of all yours, you bloody, frustrating, pain in my arse, son—" Severus' words were stopped abruptly by a set of lips covering his own. He coughed and sputtered, angrily pushing Potter off him. "What in the blazes was that!?" Severus snarled, wiping the taste of Harry from his mouth.

"That was a kiss, intended to make you shut up so I can think."

"And what in my demeanor or words has ever alluded to the fact that I wanted to be accosted in such a manner?"

This seemed to give Potter pause. Severus could see a blush blossoming across his cheeks, even turning what little he could see of his ears a shade of scarlet. Severus swallowed hard, trying to slow the beating of his own heart and convince himself that blood wasn't rising to his cheeks as well. Certainly, they had been sharing quite close quarters over the course of the past several weeks... the last month, really. Severus supposed it was natural that two men in proximity to one another would develop certain urges. Those urges must be repressed.

But this was Harry Potter. Severus had no desire to get himself caught up in some whirlwind romance with the son of the man he had despised for so long. Severus lifted his head, catching Harry's eyes and his stomach bottomed out. It wasn't James staring back at him but Lily. The thought that ran through Severus' mind then was sick and perverse and was not something he should have ever contemplated.

And yet...

His stomach churned with the thought that kept rolling through his mind. In having Harry, it was like having Lily back once more, wasn't it? It was her green eyes that stared back at him, partially covered by round gold-rimmed spectacles, the outer rims of his irises darkening with lust. He should feel guilty for even contemplating it.

"Should" being the key word.

"You wish to use the memories?" Severus asked, returning to an earlier point in the conversation, hoping to avoid the thoughts currently swirling in the back of his mind. Now away from Harry (as if a metre was enough space), he was able to think clearly once more. His breathing was laboured but he still managed to retain an even-sounding voice in spite of the way his heart hammered in his chest. Severus could remember the touch of Lily's skin beneath his fingers, the way she could press every inch of her body against him. What would Harry's body feel like against his own? While male, would he still have his mother's softness?

"I... the memories... yes," Harry stuttered. He cleared his throat, the blush fading from his cheeks at long last. "It's going to be our only hope. You're not being of much use in the court room —"

"I never said I would," Severus interrupted.

"— and so I have to do something. I swore I'd see you free and I meant it. If you haven't noticed by the simple fact that I've gotten little to no sleep in the past week I'm damn near killing myself for you."

"I never asked you to."

"I know you bloody didn't!" Harry shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. "And you also didn't bloody ask me to spy on you to ensure that your other caretakers didn't decide to kill you. If you haven't noticed, I'm the only friend you have! So stop treating me like you are and bloody help me!"

Severus drew his lips into a thin line, staring at Harry. The were drawn so taught they appeared white, his upper lip disappearing completely. Harry blanched, staring up at the imposing figure. Watching him, Severus knew that bit hadn't meant to be spilled however, now said, they couldn't go back.

"What did you say?" Severus asked, his voice deadly quiet.

"N-nothing," Harry lied, looking for a way to edge out of the room.

"You were spying on me," Severus stated, the tone of his voice clearly saying that he did not expect a response. Harry nodded ever so slightly and once more Severus' stomach did an awkward acrobatic move. "Why do you care?" Severus asked at last, the silence in the room nearly unbearable.

"Because you're innocent and you shouldn't be murdered for your crimes. There was a reason you did what you did and I don't want you to be killed because you were playing the roles Professor Dumbledore asked you to."

Severus shook his head, slowly advancing on Harry. Harry's movements were carefully measured, mirroring each of Severus' steps until the kitchen counter dug into his back. Severus stopped when his face was a hair's breadth away from Harry's, Severus able to smell the combination of sugar and tea that clung to Harry's breath.

"If that were the reason, you wouldn't have moved in with me," Severus said softly, his words causing his lips to brush against Harry's with every spoken syllable. "You wouldn't have watched me from the woods." Severus lifted a hand, placing it on Harry's chest. "And your heart wouldn't be beating wildly either."

Severus was unsure who closed the final distance between them, their lips pressing together in a kiss that slowly built in intensity. For once in his life, Severus pushed rational thought out the window and ceased the comparisons between Lily and Harry. In the end, what did it really matter? One was here and the other had long since departed the earth. Severus knew he had been carrying a torch for a woman he could never have for far too long. If his life was to end in a matter of weeks, why not take advantage of the situation with a partner who was obviously more than willing?

Besides, a warm body next to his in bed wouldn't be entirely unwelcome. Harry wanted this, that much was perfectly clear, so why shouldn't Severus let go of his inhibitions and enjoy something freely given?

Because, Severus' inner voice replied, nothing has ever been freely given where you're concerned.

This, though... was. The thought struck Severus and nearly brought him to his knees. Harry wanted to prove him innocent and asked for nothing in return. That first awkward kiss had been given, if under the guise of shutting Severus up. This was an entirely new feeling — and not wholly unwelcome either.

Harry's arms slipped around Severus' neck, his lips parting in a sign of submission. Severus lightly nipped the offered lip before letting his tongue slip into the warm heat of Harry's mouth. The taste of tea was stronger now and Severus idly wondered how Harry could put that much sugar in his tea. His tongue retreated then surged forward in a strange give and take. Harry grew bolder, his own tongue darting forward to rub against Severus'.

"Tell me why you did that," Severus spoke when the kiss was finally broken.

"Why I did what?" Harry asked slightly dazedly. "Why I kissed you?"

"Let's start with that and move into why you felt it was necessary that you spy on me. Why you've taken it upon yourself to act as my personal caretaker and lawyer."

"You ask a lot of questions."

"I demand a lot of answers."

"What if I don't want to give them?" Harry countered. "You can't kick me out as I'm bound to be here. You have no authority to make me stop defending you. For all intents and purposes, you are my prisoner."

"My apologies if I do not leap for joy. Bad leg and all that."

With less that a few centimetres separating their bodies, there should have been other things happening as opposed to the witty repartee. One small move brought Harry's hips in line with Severus' and he could feel the press of Harry's erection against his body. Severus mimicked the movement, working a knee between Harry's thighs to rub against his crotch. Harry was trapped for all intents and purposes: verbally by Severus' questions and physically by his leg pinning Harry against the kitchen cabinets. When Harry snaked a leg around Severus' body, hooking just behind his knee, Severus knew Harry wasn't complaining much.

"Tell me why," Severus hissed, his lips hovering just over Harry's.

"Learn to take things on blind faith," Harry replied, threading his fingers through the hair at Severus' neck. "Besides, you wouldn't believe me even if I told you the truth."

"I don't do well with 'blind faith'," Severus replied, closing the distance between them at long last.

The kiss was far from gentle, his lips moving against Harry's as he sought entrance to his mouth. Harry's lips parted eagerly, welcoming Severus' tongue. They silently fought, using their tongues as some sort of new-fangled weapon, one that didn't injure and led to a war in which there were no losers. Harry chased Severus' tongue into his mouth and then was forced to retreat by a counter attack that dealt with moving hands or rotating hips. Severus drew soft moans from Harry's throat as his hands moved between their bodies, lifting the hem of Harry's t-shirt to run along the soft skin of his abdomen.

"You seem to be doing just fine right now," Harry replied his hands moving to mimic Severus' ministrations.

They worked almost silently, slowly undressing each other in the kitchen of all places. Occasionally the quiet was broken by a soft moan or a sharp intake of breath as each found a particularly erogenous zone. When Harry parted Severus' button-down shirt and began exploring his chest with his teeth and tongue, Severus nearly lost his mind.

"Bed," He managed to groan, batting Harry's hands away from the catch of his trousers. While Severus had no problem with sex anywhere it came to him, he wasn't about to bend Harry over the kitchen table.

Not if he wanted to eat there again at a later date.

They moved awkwardly in the direction of the stairs, fumbling to remove shoes as they went to forgo any other impediments when they finally made it to the bedroom. They climbed the stairs, managing to retain the near full-body contact as they moved. Had they released each other, Severus was sure their progress would have been quicker but neither man seemed inclined to do so. Instead, a journey that should have taken a mere minute lasted five. Then again, the slow speed of their ascent allowed Harry the opportunity to openly grope Severus' arse. For that, Severus wasn't about to complain.

Arriving at the bedroom, Severus kicked the door closed as if to give them privacy from any unseen interlopers. They moved quickly to the bed, Severus laying down on his back and Harry eagerly moving astride him after shucking off his jeans. He unclasped Severus' trousers and, after lifting his body, dragged both trousers and pants down his thin, pale legs.

"You've... done this before," Severus murmured when Harry's hand ghosted over his cock.

Harry gave him a wry smile. "Ron and—"

"If you expect us to proceed beyond this state I would not mention Weasley's name in this bed if I were you," Severus quickly interrupted, swatting at Harry's arse.

"Fine," Harry said, covering a laugh. "I had several partners growing up and even one or two recently so I'm not an addle-brained twit and actually know what I'm doing with a man. And to save your delicate sensibilities I will refrain from mentioning any of them." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Severus' abdomen, drawing his tongue along the dusting of hair that led towards his groin. Harry stopped his movements just before reaching his cock, lifting his head to give Severus a grin to rival the Cheshire cat's. "Better?"

Severus let out a strangled sound, his hands twisting in Harry's hair to urge him lower. "Much. Would be even better if you didn't stop."

The grin turned feral and Severus briefly wondered what he had gotten himself into. This was not the boy he'd instructed in Potions not three years ago but a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. Harry's hands seemed to move with a sureness Severus had never seen in him before. Even as an adult, Harry had retained a sort of gawkish awkwardness about him, as if his limbs were still too big for his body. In bed, though, Severus was quickly finding that he moved with a sinewy grace he'd only ever seen him exhibit on the Quidditch pitch.

Hands slid along his thighs, gently spreading them to make room for Harry's body between his legs. Harry lay on his stomach, one arm hooking under Severus' right leg, to pull himself as close to Severus' crotch as possible. Harry gently nosed his way through the curls at the base of Severus' cock, tongue flicking out at irregular intervals to taste and tease, reminding Severus of the way snakes tested the air with their tongues. His teeth gently grazed over each of his bollocks before Harry licked Severus' cock from root to tip. One of Severus' hands twisted the bedsheets in an attempt to ground himself to something. Harry somehow managed to both suck and lick at the same time, drawing soft moans and whimpers that were completely and utterly humiliating.

Severus Snape did not whimper. Ever.

But when his cock slipped between Harry's lips, Severus gave himself over to every embarrassing sound imaginable. His hips gently thrust into the warm, wet heat of Harry's mouth, watching as Harry adjusted slightly, relaxing his throat muscles to take as much of Severus' cock into his mouth as he could, his hand wrapping around what he couldn't swallow. Severus' hands tightened in Harry's hair, guiding the younger man's movements. He could feel his entire body tensing, moving perilously close to that precipice that led to peaceful oblivion. Drawn to the edge and about to tumble forward, Harry pulled back abruptly. Severus' cock throbbed with the desperate need to come and he had to fight the urge not to wrap a hand around himself and stroke. His cock glistened in the dim light with the mixed wetness of precome and saliva from Harry's mouth.

"Not yet," Harry murmured, climbing up Severus' chest to steal a kiss. Severus could taste the barest hint of a salty bitterness on Harry's lips, his tongue delving into Harry's mouth for the full taste.

"Not yet?" Severus queried, raising an eyebrow. The throbbing between his legs was growing with intensity as Harry draped his body over Severus', bringing their cocks into alignment and rubbing. Harry seemed to know exactly what to do to bring him to the edge and back again without letting him topple over.

The bastard. The complete and utter tease.

And at the same time, it was divine to have a lover who cared that much to forgo his own pleasure and instead satisfy his partner. Severus quickly realised that aside from these kisses or caresses he had yet to truly touch Harry. His hands skirted down Harry's back, moving towards his arse and squeezing the muscle gently. Harry rocked his hips against Severus with each (for lack of a better word) grope. With one hand, Severus spread Harry's arse cheeks, letting one finger run along the cleft of his arse towards his entrance.

"Please, Severus," Harry said, his words accompanied by a low keening noise.

Abandoning Harry's arse for a moment, Severus reached for the bedside table and fumbled around in the drawer until he felt the bottle of oil he stored there. Half-empty judging by its weight. Withdrawing it and unscrewing the cap, he ignored Harry's smirk.

"Have partners here often?" He teased. "The Ministry should have known about any and all conjugal visits you know."

Pouring a bit of oil into his hand, Severus dragged his fingers through the puddle before returning to Harry's arse, slipping one finger inside. Harry's body stiffened momentarily before relaxing to the sudden intrusion. Severus quickly added a second finger, his own impatience getting the better of him. Harry's hips thrust against his own, their cocks rubbing and bobbing against one another as Severus prepared Harry.

"Going to mention this visit to them are you?" Severus asked with a smirk, angling his hand slightly to find Harry's prostate.

"Hardly," Harry replied, his hips bucking back into Severus' hand. Harry ran his tongue along the curve of Severus' jaw and moving near to the shell of his ear. Harry sucked the lobe into his mouth, nibbling gently on the cartilage. "Are you going to fuck me or not?"

That did it. With a growl that would have been the envy of any canine, Severus flipped Harry onto his stomach with one swift movement. Severus poured the last bit of oil onto his hand, slicking up his cock and not caring that more of the oil wound up on his sheets and thighs than his cock. Gripping Harry's hips, Severus held the base of his prick steady while he pushed forward, entering Harry. It took a moment for Harry to adjust to the intrusion. Severus gave him a few seconds to recover before pushing in completely, Harry's arse meeting his hips. Leaning forward, Severus pressed a kiss between Harry's shoulder blades before starting to thrust in earnest.

The sounds of grunts and moans filled the room, coupled with the sound of Severus' balls hitting Harry's arse. Severus varied the speed and length of his thrusts, sometimes withdrawing to only the head of his cock still in Harry's arse with a long, slow push forward. Those slow movements were followed by short, quick thrusts, designed to hit Harry's prostate repeatedly in a short amount of time.

Harry's head dipped forward, stretching his skin taught against his spine while he rested his head against a pillow. His hips moved back against Severus as if not wanting to lose the intimate connection forming between them. His hands were occupied with holding both of them up so it was up to Severus to touch him and bring him to that perfect peak. Severus' free hand skirted across his chest, gently tweaking each nipple, teasing them with thumb and forefinger and fingernail. His hand moved lower drawing near to his cock, stroking him in time with each of his thrusts. Hips forward - hand down - hand up - hips back. Over and over the pattern repeated until Severus could feel his own body moving towards the edge and this time was going to crash over the cliff and take Harry with him. Harry writhed on the bed, caught between the near-frantic pace of Severus' hands and body.

"Close," Severus growled, drawing his tongue along the curve of Harry's back.

The words no sooner left his mouth when Severus could feel his balls tighten. A few more thrusts and he came, eyes closing as he spilled himself inside Harry. Fireworks that would have rivalled any Guy Fawkes celebration went off in the back of his mind, his body completely spent. A few more strokes of his hand brought Harry with him into oblivion, his hand pumping Harry's cock while he came, semen hitting his hand and the bedsheets. The last thought Severus had before collapsing onto the bed with Harry firmly ensconced in his arms was that he'd need a few fresh sets of sheets if sex was to be a regular occurrence between them.

Harry shifted in Severus' arms, moving off his now flaccid cock and turning to tuck his head under Severus' chin. Severus gently cradled the boy with his mother's eyes to his chest, lightly kissing his forehead. Covers were pulled up around their shoulders and neither man had the strength to cast cleaning charms. It would require showers in a few hours and Severus would have been lying if he said he had no desire to shower with Harry.

How quickly utter loathing of a man could turn to a passionate coupling in bed. Truth be told, he should have known they would come to an end like this. It wasn't hatred that had been building between them but sexual tension. Now released, there was no turning back. Severus gently ran his fingertips along Harry's temple, watching with a sated smile as Harry curled further against him, as if wanting to be protected by the older man.

Harry and Lily were not the same person, even if they shared the same eyes.

Severus closed his eyes and slowly began to fade off to sleep with Lily's son cuddled against his chest. His last thought before falling asleep was more than a little disconcerting.

He'd rather have Harry than Lily.

"You wish to use my memories," Severus said, staring up into the darkness above them, many hours later.

"Mmmhmm," Harry replied sleepily, instinctively curling his body against Severus'.

For a moment, Severus said nothing but watched the man who slept partially ensconced in his arms. Gently, Severus pinched Harry's upper arm, increasing the pressure until he sat up in bed, now completely wide awake. The covers pooled at his waist, revealing a fit chest dusted lightly with hair with lines of definition standing out in sharp relief despite the dim light of the room. Severus could still feel the press of that torso against his own and wondered if there was some further crime he had committed by letting Lily and Harry finally merge into one person: one he could have and the other he never would.

"What the fuck was that for?" Harry asked, rubbing at the abused skin. "Here I am sleeping peacefully after you damn near fucked me into the mattress..."

"Damn near?" Severus asked with a slight raise of an eyebrow. "By my account, you'll be limping tomorrow. Shame you have to hide it in court."

"Do you have to be such an ass at all hours of the day?"

"Do you want my permission to use the memories or not?" Severus asked sharply. "Because if you use them without my permission I swear to god I will deny everything as being a fabrication and the last ditch attempt by a struggling wizard to free a guilty man."

Harry's expression turned sullen and he shifted in bed, arms crossing across his chest as he watched Severus still reclining against the headboard, propped up by pillows.

"Yes, I want your permission," Harry replied at long last.

Under the covers, Severus' hand sought Harry's leg, running his long fingers against what he assumed to be Harry's inner thigh. Harry closed his eyes briefly and Severus could hear the barest hint of a gasp/moan escape the other man's mouth.

"You are only to use my conversations with Albus as evidence. You are going to leave out every reference to Lily. The Patronus, our lives together before Hogwarts and your father sought to intervene. My conversations with Albus, either in person or with his portrait are the only ones I will allow you to use." Severus' fingers continued their questing, brushing against the sensitive skin of his thigh and brushing through the more coarse hair of his leg. "My meeting with Mundungus is fine and I'm sure you'll want to highlight that it was I who suggested the use of multiple Potters to get you to safety. Tell them of the meeting after I confessed Trelawney's prediction and swore my fealty to Albus.

"Mention Lily at all and I will deny everything. Do we have an accord?"

Harry leaned forward to kiss Severus but was stopped abruptly by a hand on his lips. Severus stared up at him, his black eyes glinting strangely in the near-darkness.

"Answer me." Severus said, his tone soft yet carried a hint of an edge to it. "Do. We. Have. An. Agreement?" He asked, punctuating each of his words with a tap of his finger against Harry's lips.

"Yes."

"Swear to me."

A beat of hesitation. "I swear. I promise."

Severus nearly questioned the hesitation but decided it wasn't worth the argument. His hand quested forward one last time, seeking out Harry's cock under the cover of the duvet. His fingers circled around the already half-hard member, thumb running along the ridge just behind the crown. His other hand nudged Harry forward to straddle his hips. Harry moved without any protestations, his hips falling into a gentle teasing rock, the cleft of his arse rubbing against Severus' prick.

Words and promises and memories were forgotten for the rest of the night. Instead, the two chose to create a few new memories, even if Severus truly believed he was living on borrowed time.

The trial was starting to wear on him, though he would never admit that fact to anyone, least of all Harry. His outlook on life had changed slightly since that first tumble in the kitchen that led to round two in the bedroom which led to round three in the bathroom...

Severus had been right in his estimation, Harry had limped through the majority of the proceedings the next few days, lying that he had accidentally tripped down the stairs. For once, Severus' face had remained completely impassive, even if a smirk had graced his countenance later that night, spreading Harry's legs wide and fucking him on the couch. The anxiety that had been building up was able to be released each time Severus and Harry fell into each other's arms after a long day at the Ministry.

Still, though, the trial was wearing on and the words in the Prophet were becoming increasingly harsher. Severus vaguely wondered if Rita was being paid by the false word; it was the only explanation for the sheer amount of drivel that graced the pages each morning. Severus watched his life being laid out before the rest of the Wizarding world... and it wasn't even his life to begin with. It was some fabrication from within the deep recesses of Rita Skeeter's mind, carrying merely an ounce of truth. It would have been better if the invasion of his privacy would have been truthful.

But to claim it was because of a scorned love affair with Bellatrix Lestrange that he originally turned away from the Death Eaters was beyond ridiculous. That statement had been retracted the next day, claiming it was a failed love triangle between Lucius Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange. For the love of Merlin, he had better taste than that!

Severus knew that while Harry was doing the best he could given insurmountable odds, the trial was drawing closer and closer to its end. Strange how not two weeks ago, Severus had begun to pray for death. In the course of a week, he had found that he wanted life. He would not go so far as to say there was any bit of sentimentality forming and he was not about to make some deep declaration of love, ask Harry to marry him then figure out a way they could both pop out a couple of kids. It was different than that. It was more... in Harry, Severus had found solace. For a few hours, he could lose himself with the other man and not think of anything outside their movements together.

When they fucked, there was no trial. There was no death sentence looming just beyond the horizon, within sight but just beyond his grasp.

Severus was noticing, however, that Harry was becoming more and more withdrawn in the past few days. Their (Severus hesitated to call it a relationship) partnership had commenced in a blaze of fire and passion, neither one away from the other's side for longer than was necessary. Even at his age, Severus managed to keep up (for the most part) with his younger lover. They'd arrive home from the Ministry and find the nearest wall to use as a support. Harry would push Severus against the hard surface, move to his knees and undo Severus' trousers just enough to free his cock and suck him off. It was his way of helping Severus let off the tension of the day's events. They'd make dinner, which usually involved a fair amount of groping and ended up using more olive oil on themselves than was need to properly cook the food.

The past few days, however, were entirely different. Sure, they fell into bed at the end of the day, fucked and fell asleep — but the falling into bed portion was becoming later and later. Harry had started to make excuses, saying there was more work that needed to be done before they had their nightly tussle between the sheets.

Severus let Harry take over his study, the room that used to belong to his parents and has long since been stripped clean of any possible reminder of the bastard who raised him. Harry needed a place to work and Severus was getting sick and tired of hearing a quill scratch beside him in bed for all hours of the day. Deep down, Severus knew he should have removed all his personal effects and documents from the study and hidden them away behind a bookcase but he left them where they were in the bottom drawer of his desk. He wanted to build a trust with Harry and that trust began with giving him full reign of the house and expecting him not to go snooping.

"Coming to bed?" Severus asked later that night, the hour nearing two in the morning. They'd have to be up in less than five hours to make it to the Ministry on time and Harry had been hunched over these papers for the past four hours.

"In a bit," Harry replied, hiding a yawn. "I wanted to finish reading these few cases before bed. See if there's any precedent set for a case like yours. Then again, all the work we did for Buckbeak didn't help much."

"Thank you for that impressive display of optimism," Severus said dryly.

Sighing, Severus leaned over the chair to rub Harry's shoulders. The quill fell from Harry's hand and hit the floor, a few ink spatters covering the hardwood floor where the tip hit. Severus continued his ministrations, his thumbs working at a couple of knots between his shoulder blades.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asked softly.

"Midnight," Harry replied.

"Try two in the morning," Severus corrected. "Which you would know if you'd put a clock in here like I told you to do."

"Well excuse me for not following every single one of your dictates," Harry snapped. Severus' hands fell away from Harry's shoulders to cross in front of his chest. Harry turned in his chair, an apologetic expression on his face. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and I didn't mean it."

Severus' eyes narrowed slightly. "Work as late as you want. I don't care." Turning on his heel, he stalked from the study and was halfway to the bedroom when he felt a hand reach for his. He paused, but didn't turn to face Harry. "Yes?" he asked crisply.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated. "I'm frustrated with the trial."

"You didn't have to take the case. You did that of your own volition."

"I know I did. I'm frustrated that the Wizengamot won't listen to anything I say. I'm frustrated that I know how to get you cleared of the charges but you won't let me use those memories, just the couple that do more to show your guilt than innocence."

"I told you those were off limits and you agreed."

"I know I agreed. I'm just at the end of my rope. I shouldn't have snapped."

With a sigh, Severus slipped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him close. "And I'm not the easiest man in the world to live with," Severus conceded.

"You've got that one right."

Severus glanced down at him. "For someone who just wound up in a heap of trouble for his mouth, I'd watch what you say for the time being."

"I thought you rather liked my mouth. Particularly that thing I can do with my tongue."

"Stop changing the subject."

They both had won and lost the argument and that (strangely) was fine by Severus. The two made their way to the bedroom, shutting the door in an attempt to keep the rest of the world out and away from them. Slowly they undressed each other, fingers caressing skin as it was bared to view in the dim candlelight. Severus watched the way shadows played across Harry's chest, highlighting scars from various battles during the war. His fingers followed the trail each of the scars made as they littered Harry's chest. Harry followed Severus' lead, his own hands finding the various scars gained during one battle or another. His fingers brushed the puncture wound at the juncture of neck and shoulder, Severus hissing when the digits made contact.

"Still sensitive?" Harry asked softly.

"Always will be," Severus replied. "The venom will always live in the tissue surrounding the bite. At least it will never spread."

Harry led Severus to bed, though Severus could have sworn he heard the word 'good' muttered under Harry's breath. Harry curled his body against Severus' seeking warmth from the man over the chill of the sheets. Severus ran his hands along Harry's face and shoulders, his fingertips slowly questing lower towards his half-hard cock.

"Tired..." Harry protested softly.

Severus placed a gentle, almost chaste kiss to Harry's lips, ironic given the fact that his hand was wrapping around Harry's cock. His thumb circled the head, moving along Harry's length to draw him to arousal. Rather than removing his hand to find oil or use saliva, Severus muttered a Lubricus under his breath, directing the spell to Harry's cock only.

"My turn to take care of you for once," Severus replied with a small smile.

His hand moved along Harry's cock, teasing and tugging gently on his balls before moving back to touch his cock properly. They'd been doing this long enough that Severus had was already learning what movements could elicit moans ans whimpers from Harry's mouth. He knew that a slight twist of the wrist could bring forth a moan, while running his finger along the ridge just behind the crown could drive Harry to the point of incoherency. Severus knew that rubbing his thumb across the slit made Harry's leg twitch. Severus used all his knowledge, his hand stroking and touching, rubbing and caressing to bring Harry to climax.

Of anything, that was his favourite thing to watch: the way Harry's entire body tensed before he orgasmed. The way his eyes slowly closed yet Severus could still see the barest hint of green between the lashes. The way Harry's mouth fell open and the name Severus was whispered silently.

Severus muttered the cleaning charms beneath his breath, knowing full-well that there wouldn't be time in the morning for clean-up the way they both would like. Harry curled sleepily against Severus' body, hooking a leg over the other man's hip. Lightly, Severus kissed Harry's forehead, watching as the sated smile turned to the contentment of sleep.

"Goodnight," Severus whispered, dimming the lights with a thought. He watched Harry in the darkness until sleep overtook him.

If the past weeks were exhausting at the Ministry, nothing could have prepared him for the past few days. It seemed that every word he had ever spoken was being dissected to the nth degree. Every pause in his statements, every shift of the eye in the memories were taken apart and questioned. His usually calm exterior was beginning to crack under the strain. The stress in court was wearing on Severus, both physically and mentally. His answers were no longer calm and collected but openly hostile. He may or may not have gone too far when he insinuated the trial was as pointless as creating Wizarding Viagra so Pickawke could have a bit of excitement in his life.

Even Harry seemed to be at the end of his rope. While Severus may have yearned to take his hand, to give him some small show of strength, he would never show such an open display of affection. All he could do was silently watch Harry from out of the corner of his life while the rest of his life was put on display.

Good to his word, Harry had yet to reveal any of the other evidence. Perhaps it would be the final bit of information that would officially proclaim his innocence. Hell, Severus knew it probably would be the last missing link and he knew Harry was dying to reveal it.

Home at last, Severus' ankles and legs hurt from being kept in one position for the majority of the day. All he wanted right now was a cup of tea and fall into bed; with or without sex. Right now, he wasn't going to be picky.

Steaming teacup in hand, Severus slowly climbed the stairs, deciding that a shower would be even better than collapsing into bed. Hot water on his skin to wash away the aches of the day. That, he decided, could definitely require Harry's assistance. He slowly climbed the stairs, feeling much older than his thirty-nine years. With this much stress, it was surprising he hadn't turned as grey as Lupin had been before his death. Then again, he hadn't looked in a mirror lately.

At the top of the stairs, Severus could see a thin strip of light peeking from a nearly closed doorway, growing wider the further it crawled along the hardwood floor. Severus' brow furrowed and a deep frown creased his face. He had long since allowed Harry to work in the converted study but any other time, Harry had left the door wide open— never closed it as if he wanted privacy.

The ache in his leg forgotten, Severus swept forward towards the partially open door. The light spilling across the hardwood floor acted as a miniature line of demarcation. Severus knew what lay beyond the threshold. He, right now, could turn away and pretend he had never seen this or if he crossed, they would never be able to go back to they way they'd been. In either case, it was a betrayal of the worst sort.

A betrayal of trust.

With a snarl, Severus lashed out at the closest object, kicking at the intangible light before throwing open the door, hissing like a mad cat. There sat Harry in the middle of the floor, parchments and papers spread around him as he tried to make sense of a non-linear timeline of papers and events. So engrossed in his work was he that he never heard Severus enter. Severus' breathing grew rapid as he watched Harry pore through his most private of lives, taking notes on which would be the best things to share with the world.

"Get. Out."

Harry snapped his head up, crushing an armload of papers to his chest. His eyes grew wide, realising he hadn't only been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but had been captured trying to steal the whole bloody thing.

"Severus," Harry began, his voice cracking. "I can explain. I didn't mean..."

"I trusted you," Severus hissed, his black eyes completely devoid of emotion. "I fucking trusted you. I gave you this room to work—"

"Which I thank you for!"

"— and I let you into my home, my life and my bed," Severus continued as if Harry hadn't even spoken. "And this is the thanks I get. I didn't think I'd have to ward the drawers of the desk. That you wouldn't go snooping through what is mine. Apparently I was completely and totally mistaken on that front."

"That wasn't my intention!" Harry shouted, trying desperately to get a word in edgewise.

"Then why the hell did you betray me by searching my drawers!?" Severus raged, wiping a tiny bit of spittle away from the corner of his mouth. "I told you what you could and couldn't use. You agreed to that!"

"Not when it meant staring down a guilty verdict for you tomorrow!" Harry countered, rising to his feet and letting the stack of papers he was holding fall to the ground like oversized, uniform snowflakes. "I swore that I would do whatever it took to get you proclaimed innocent. I've barely been sleeping. I'd rather work than sleep because this is what is important. You! I've been doing work for you for nothing. I haven't expected anything in return."

"Save fucking," Severus interjected quietly.

"No, not because of that at all," Harry said with a shake of his head, his tone resigned to the verbal beating he knew he would not only get but also rightly deserved. "I made a promise to you: that I would see you freed no matter what the cost. And that's what I bloody plan on doing!"

Severus crossed his arms in front of his chest, annoyed momentarily that he wasn't wearing his robes. A man in a button down shirt and trousers wasn't nearly as imposing as a figure clad totally in black, scowling at annoying peons. Still, there was a deep frown set on his face, eyes narrowing as he glared at Harry. Could it have been true? Perhaps. And perhaps Severus' own outlook on life had changed quite a bit since that first roll between the sheets with Harry.

Perhaps he would have even given the papers to Harry had he asked.

"Get out," Severus said softly, the quiet timbre of his voice a stark contrast to the raging from a few moments ago. "For the rest of the night, out. Find somewhere else to stay. Your return to this house will depend on if you use those documents or not. Use any of these papers or any of the other memories I know you have, I will walk away from you forever. Either to the gallows or out of your life by my own volition. The choice is yours."

With a final glare, Severus turned and swept from the room, moving as if he had a cloak to billow. It wasn't until he was in the bedroom with the door locked and warded against Harry that he finally sank against the door, wrapping his arms around himself. Outside in the hall Severus could hear Harry's tread just outside the door. He could feel the gentle push against the wards he had set and then it retreated, just as the sound of footfalls moved away from the door. Severus' hand hovered over the doorknob, half-tempted to open the door.

Maybe he had overreacted.

He reached for the knob when he heard the Crack of an Apparation outside his door. Severus' hand fell away and he suddenly felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Severus Tobias Snape, growing sentimental over a man half his age.

A man who had betrayed him.

The tension in the courtroom could have been cut with one of his dull cutting knives. Severus stared straight ahead as the Wizengamot slowly filed in. Harry sat beside him with the small attache case he'd purchased several weeks ago sitting at his feet. Severus wanted desperately to take the case and look inside, to see if all the letters he had exchanged with Lily and Albus were sitting inside, waiting to be exposed to the entire world. He'd already had his whole life on display, he had the right to retain some bit of privacy, didn't he?

Shacklebolt was the last to take his seat, pounding the gavel against the worn wood disc that sat on the desk. Each hit seemed to reverberate through Severus' very soul. He knew fullwell that, even if those documents and memories were used today, the court could still charge him as guilty.

The world would know everything and it still wouldn't matter.

"Mr Potter," Shacklebolt began, "As you are aware, this is the last day of testimony and this afternoon, the Wizengamot will go into deliberations with a verdict to be handed down at the earliest possible convenience. Given the nature of this trial and the severity of the crimes, the Wizengamot has decided that a separate session for deliberation will afford the accused the fairest verdict. Is this acceptable, Mr Potter?"

"Quite," Harry replied.

In other words, as soon as Harry finished speaking they would file out, everyone would say one word, guilty and they would all march back in. Earliest convenience indeed.

"I am aware of that, sir," Harry replied. "I have several final pieces to present should it please the court."

Severus stiffened, squaring his shoulders and clenched his jaw so hard the muscle in his cheek began to tick impatiently. Even with the threats the night before, Harry was still going to do it. Was still going to betray him.

He was going to give Severus life when at the same moment Harry was removing himself from the picture. The one person Severus ever would have consented to share his life with. Permanently, should they both want it. Severus felt sick to his stomach and desperately wanted to flee, but the shackles held him firmly to the chair. All he could do was sit in silence and wait for the most private detail of his life to be shared with the world.

Staring straight ahead, Severus steeled himself to keep his face impassive as Harry delved into his personal life.

"You see," Harry said, reaching for the case, "there is more to Severus Snape than perhaps anyone realised." Severus jumped slightly as the clasps snapped open, lid opening like the mouth of an erumpent. Harry fished around in the case, withdrawing two bundles of parchments and holding them up before the court. "While it seems impossible to believe, particularly for those of us who have had Snape for a professor, I can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did what he did out of love."

The courtroom burst into disbelieving murmurs. Severus swallowed hard, his eyes flitting from council member to council member, seeing the surprise etched into their faces. Yes, laugh all you want. Yes, I can love, you bastards.

"And the woman he loved was Lily Potter nee Evans."

That did it. The Wizengamot erupted. Shacklebolt rapped the gavel against the desk so hard that Severus could see the wooden disk dancing a jig as it skittered with the force of each hit. It was a solid five minutes before any semblance of order could be regained. And still, Severus did not move outside of blinking. He refused to look at Harry and stared at the Wizengamot crest on Shacklebolt's robe as opposed to meeting the other man's gaze.

"The accused and Mrs Potter grew up near to each other," Harry continued, rising from his chair to pace in front of the Wizengamot, which forced Severus to see him on each circuit around the table. Harry withdrew several small phials from within his robe pocket, holding them up for all to see. The shimmering substance seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the courtroom. "These are additional memories given to me the night Professor Snape was bitten by Voldemort's snake Nagini." Harry paused to let more rumblings die down.

"Why weren't these shown at the beginning of the trial?" A member of the council shouted from the back. "It seems that, had these letters and memories been shown then this would have been a very different trial."

"I am aware of that, sir," Harry replied with a slight incline of his head. "However, I was not at liberty to show them before now. There are many letters exchanged between the two as children, but as time passed, they became few and far between. Due to any number of reasons the two spoke more and more infrequently. As the court knows, Lily Evans married my father but it is clear from the few scant letters exchanged before her death that he was still deeply in love with her in spite of her choice in husband."

Severus clenched his fists, fingernails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. It was one thing to give Harry memories when he believed himself to be dying. It was quite another to hear his love life (or lack there of) with Lily exposed for all to hear and dissect. Severus forced the bile in his throat back down to his stomach where it belonged.

"There are two memories I wish to show the court," Harry said, uncorking one of the phials. "The letters, please look at, but they pale in comparison to these two memories, quite clearly from the time shortly proceeding and directly following the events of October 31st, 1981."

"No," Severus croaked, his eyes wide. "Not... no..."

"Is that an objection, Snape?" Shacklebolt spoke, interrupting Severus' quiet protestations. "The court can rule you guilty now for refusing to show all evidence for a fair trial. Is that what you wish?" Shacklebolt took the shake of Severus' head to mean there was no objection. "Mr Potter, please continue."

Severus' eyes moved to Harry, tracking his movements as he slowly traversed the length of the courtroom, first handing over the stack of parchments to the nearest Wizengamot member, the second to pour the contents of the phial into a special Pensieve that would broadcast the memory for all to see. Once more Severus grew tense, fingernails cutting half-moons into his palms as he steeled himself to watch the two memories play out.

To re-watch the two defining moments of his life. To re-watch the memories he'd never be able to completely erase from his being, even after he handed them over to Harry.

Once more the scene faded from view, leaving nothing but a few shimmering strands that wanted to hold onto the memory for as long as possible. At long last they fell to the floor and burst into a shimmering dust that finally disappeared. The courtroom was deadly silent, the only sound coming from Harry's heeled shoes as he crossed to the Pensieve to retrieve the memories and cap them. Somewhere, the soft sound of sniffling could be heard and Severus could see a few women silently but openly crying. Even Shacklebolt seemed to be touched by the scenes that had played out before his eyes.

Harry collected the parchments and slid them into the attache case along with the memory phials and snapped it shut, never once sparing a glance in Severus' direction.

"I have nothing more to show," Harry said at last. "We await the decision of the Wizengamot."

There was a mad flurry as the usually poised council members rose to their feet and raced towards Shacklebolt. The room descended into pandemonium, the only two who remained perfectly still were Harry and Severus who watched the fray before them.

"You know what this means, do you not?" Severus hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"I stand by what I did," Harry replied quietly.

"I'll never forgive you."

"I know."

It took another twenty minutes for order to return to Courtroom Number 10. This time, though, once the members of the Wizengamot took their seats, there was no talking or discussion. Their faces were impassive and Severus couldn't even see one clue to what was about to happen next.

"It seems that additional session will not be necessary," Shacklebolt said, leaning forward. "Would the accused, Severus Snape, please stand for your verdict?"

The shackles disappeared from around his ankles and, with the assistance of the table, Severus rose to his feet. His heart was in his throat, wondering if it had all been for naught. If nearly a month's worth of trials and living with Harry and sharing such personal details of his life had been wasted.

"Severus Tobias Snape, Potions master and Former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You stand accused of the murder of Albus Dumbledore and the list of other crimes read to you on the first day of this trial nearly one month ago to the day. We of the Wizengamot, the High Court of the Wizarding World have found you..."

Just fucking say I'm guilty. Stop with the damned theatrics.

"Not guilty on all charges."

Severus gripped the table so hard he was afraid he would break off the edge in splinters. He refused to move for fear this was some sick joke.

"Your wand will be restored to you. It is also the opinion of this court that you be given the Order of Merlin, First Class for your services to the Wizarding world these past twenty years." Severus could swear he saw the corner of Shacklebolt's mouth quirk in a half-smile. "You are free to go."

What had to be most shocking of all was the rousing round of applause Severus received at the final fall of the gavel. He was free. There was no death waiting for him in the next room. Because of the memories and all the work Harry had done he was free to go. He'd have his wand back, he'd be allowed to brew once more. His life was his own.

Once again, Severus was indebted to someone else for his future.

"Thank you," Severus said rising. He took in Harry's form, practically undressing him with his eyes. As far as he was concerned, this was the last time he would ever look upon Harry. Eyes look their last... A blush blossomed across Harry's cheeks, spreading quickly to the tips of his ears.

This would be the last time he'd ever look upon Harry Potter.

"You showed the memories and the letters," Severus said softly, his hand resting on Harry's shoulder for a moment. He quickly withdrew it before he said anything he'd regret: like inviting Harry back into his life. "You know what this means," Severus hissed, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

"But —"

Severus shook his head, lifting his hand to cut Harry off before he said any more. One final look to memorise his face and body as they were at this very moment.

"Goodbye."

With a snarl of rage, Severus pulled a weed from his herb garden. In the months that had passed since the trial, he was finding it easier and easier to go into Diagon Alley. At first, people tended to shirk away from him, mostly out of reflex he assumed, but as time passed he became another face in the crowd. Now they moved away from him because he was Severus Snape, demon Potions master as opposed to Severus Snape the Death Eater. The former was a title he had cultivated and loved. The latter... could fade away just as his Dark Mark had done.

He knew Harry was watching him. After that confession, Severus knew right where to look: the far corner of his lot near the edge of the woods. Severus lifted a hand to block the sun from his eyes, glancing back at Harry's spot. Sure enough, there he was. A mirroring of events was what this was, only this time, Severus had been fully aware that Harry was watching him constantly. It was like having his own personal stalker but at least this one didn't mean him any harm. Severus attacked the dirt, using the hoe to dig up an ingrained root and still, there he was. Standing there like a vulture waiting for its prey to perish under the hot savannah sun.

This was getting ridiculous.

With a sigh, Severus motioned in Harry's direction and was pleasantly surprised when Harry took off at a dead run, moving towards him. Severus rose and brushed the dirt from his hands and circled around, stopping when he reached the front of the house. By the time Harry arrived at the door, out of breath and sweating, Severus was already waiting for him, leaning against the doorframe.

"You're watching me again." A statement as opposed to a question.

"I'm sorry," Harry replied with a sigh. "I wanted... to make sure you were okay."

"It's been nearly three months. I haven't slit my wrists. I haven't done anything out of the ordinary. I'm enjoying my freedom. Now leave me be."

Harry shook his head. "I can't. I hate you for it, but you got under my skin."

"That is your problem," Severus replied. "Not mine."

"I want to come back."

"That's not possible."

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

"Sorry!?" Severus shouted before he regained full control over his voice. "You swore you wouldn't and then you turned around and did exactly that. You lied. Your word means nothing, Potter. Absolutely nothing."

"I swore that I would do everything in my power to see you freed."

"And in showing those letters—"

"I freed you. You're not dead. Doesn't that count for something?"

"You broke your word. That counts for everything."

Harry placed his hand on Severus' cheek, forcing the other man to look down at him. "I freed you. That's what I swore I'd do. Whatever methods I had to use is what had to be done and if that makes me like you, then so be it. It was you who said I was too much the Gryffindor. I become more like you and you bitch, you hypocrite. You know you would have done the same had our positions been reversed."

"That is entirely beside the point —"

"It is not," Harry interrupted, lifting his other hand to frame Severus' face. His fingertips lightly danced along his high cheekbones, yet his grip was strong to force Severus to remain looking at him. "I made a promise to keep you safe. And I don't intend on breaking it either. No matter how you rant and rave and scream. I did what was right, no matter what you may think."

"I don't rant..." Severus trailed off, arching an eyebrow at the look he was receiving from Harry. "You've learned the way of my glare," he said, hiding a bit of a smile.

"That's not all I've learned from you," Harry replied, using his position to pull Severus down for a kiss.

"You broke your word," Severus repeated softly, knowing his cheeks were flushed from the heat of Harry's body against his own. "If you do not have your word... you do not have anything." Though it pained him to do it, Severus took a step back and away from Harry's embrace.

"I kept you alive," Harry replied, closing the distance between them once more. "I did what was right and I kept my promise and I freed you. So what if some of the finer details of your life are now known? You have a life and I swore I'd protect you. That is one promise I'll never break."

Severus pursed his lips, staring down at the man before him. Tentatively, he brushed Harry's fringe aside, the tip of his finger running along the faded lightning bolt scar. He had his life and he (mostly) had his health, so who was he to complain?

"Now that you have freed me of all these charges," Severus said, his hand falling away, "are you leaving me to my own devices?"

Harry reached for Severus' hand, threading his fingers between Severus' and gently squeezed them. They still stood apart, the threshold of the door keeping them separated in their opposite worlds.

"I never told you my other promise," Harry said softly, running his thumb along Severus' knuckles. "One night when you were asleep, I promised that I would never leave you. And... and that..." His voice faltered and Harry trailed off into silence, releasing Severus' hand to shove them into the pockets of his jeans.

"And that you would love me forever," Severus finished to Harry's astonished expression. "I was not asleep. I heard every word." He extended his hand to Harry. "Are you going to break those promises as well, or are you going to come inside?"

With a deep breath, Harry reached across the threshold to take Severus' hand.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

THE END

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