The Space Between Failing and Falling • Snarry •

Chapter 8: Prospects and Promises

"You have the face of my most hated enemy—"

"But I hoped—"

"You were wrong. Now get out and don't come back."

The fire roars in the grate and a teacup rattles on the sideboard.

"Calm yourself," Severus hisses.

"I tried to move on, but how can it work with someone when you have a soulmate still living? I can't be honest with anybody. And that's not who I am!"

Green eyes squeeze shut in anger for a second. "And then I tried to be happy alone," Harry says quietly, "and be content as nothing more than your friend. It's been a lot harder than I thought it would be. Sometimes...sometimes I wish I didn't have one." His gaze hardens. "Sometimes I think I would be happier without. If things had worked out differently at the Shack...I would've been none the wiser." Severus blinks coolly. "But by some miracle we both survived. Yet now that you're here, and I'm here, we get along, and still you don't care, I find it...hard to understand! So make me understand!"

Severus runs a hand over his face. "You must have been horrified when you learnt it was I—"

"I was obsessed with the Half-Blood Prince," Potter says sharply.

He wants to say, 'you're lying'.

"I concede that we are likely highly-attuned magically, spiritually and in...personal areas," Severus says, "but a soulmateship does not guarantee happiness."

Potter nods once, then purses his lips and heads for the door.

"Wait," Severus says. Harry stops and looks back at him, his mouth set in a grim line. Eventually, he says, "I may have underestimated your regard for me. Sit down. Please."

"Was that supposed to be an apology?"

Severus has no reply.

Harry then looks lost, so Severus asks, "What is it?"

His face crumples. "I can't do this."

Although he is inexperienced in the art of comforting people, it is an instinct he cannot ignore.

So, he gathers Harry in his arms, and says into his hair, "I'm here. It will be all right."

He doesn't know what to do, but Harry fits perfectly. The boy is crying. He drags his nose across Harry's scalp and inhales his scent. "It always is, with you. You're annoying that way."

Harry breathes in shakily before pulling back. "Sorry. I know you don't want me here."

Something loosens in his chest and he closes the gap between them. This is such a stupid thing to say that Severus grasps his face, and presses his lips to a tear for three seconds.

"It seems that I may have been delaying the inevitable," Severus says against his cheek.

This bewilders Harry. "What do you mean?"

Kissing Harry was a cosmic mistake: it has made him lose his faculties, torn reluctance from him, made the unspeakable speakable.

Eyelashes tickle Severus's cheek. "Trust me when I say that courtship is truly not my forte." Harry pulls the words out of him like a riptide. "I am somewhat out of my depth. I will have to practice. Not...hurting you, but apologising."

"You and me—can't we try? What are you so afraid of?"

He grips Harry's biceps and bares his teeth. "You're so sure, aren't you, that life is a fairy tale? That anything can be fixed! You're just like..."