The Boy Who Lived A Bit [Snarry]

Chapter Twenty-One

The grumpy bastard actually said it! He actually said he loves me!

Harry was pressed between the couch and Severus, both of them sated and sticky and trying to catch their breath. Beneath his body, Harry's wilting cock was trapped painfully between himself and the old leather of the Chesterfield. He sighed. Yet another item of Snape's furniture that he'd now spilt himself upon...

'My apologies if that hurt you, Potter. Too hasty...'

Harry turned his head to the side. 'Never. It was perfect,' he murmured. At the periphery of his vision, he could sense Severus nodding. Then he felt the gentle movement of Snape easing himself out of Harry's body as tenderly as possible. There was a muttered cleansing spell and they were both suddenly fresher.

Snape stood and held a hand out to help Harry get to his feet. When Harry looked up into Snape's face, the obsidian eyes were almost glittering, the thin mouth pulled into an almost-smile.

'You did it, Harry. You vanquished the Dark Lo – ' He paused briefly. 'Voldemort. Congratulations.'

Harry reached blindly down for his underwear and trousers, pulling them back up his legs as he continued to look into his lover's face. 'I couldn't have done it without you. You DO realise that, don't you? Don't you?'

Snape's only answer was to lean down and press his lips fleetingly to Harry's forehead. 'I must dress,' he said and turned to walk into the bedroom. 'Your public won't be kept waiting much longer, I am sure.'

Fishing his jumper from behind the couch, Harry found himself pausing to think about that comment. His public. As long as he was gracious for the next few weeks, as long as he let people vent their happiness and their gratitude toward him, as long as he got through it without cracking under the constant attention and pressure – surely then, people would do the decent thing and let him get on with the rest of his life in peace? He'd fulfilled his destiny, done what he had to do, delivered the world from evil and all that business. He'd be allowed to walk away now, wouldn't he? They'd let him do that?

He disentangled his tshirt from the jumper and pulled it on.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Harry and Severus walked through the main doors of the Great Hall. The ceiling had been enchanted to show a constant pyrotechnic display. Hundreds of gold-coloured candles floated in the upper reaches of the carapace. Harry looked around in wonder, feeling as small and insignificant and overwhelmed as he had the very first time he had set foot into this vaulted hall.

'Harry?! Harry! It's you!'

A lanky blonde boy was suddenly looming over Harry, shaking his hand mercilessly and beaming at him. 'I, er...' Harry suddenly put a name to the face and tried a smile back. 'Hi, Colin. Um, how's things?'

That was the last coherent thing Harry remembered saying to anybody for the better part of half an hour. It was almost as though somebody had unfurled a huge banner that read "Harry Potter Has Entered The Building!!" over everybody's heads, because it seemed that every person in attendance suddenly knew that he was there. And, of course, they all wanted him. Everything was a blur of faces and handshakes and slaps on the back and gushing and thanks. Lost in a crush of people, Harry looked around wildly. He couldn't even see where Severus was anymore. Claustrophobic panic began to creep steadily up his gullet. The welcome sight of three tall redheads parting the crowd to reach him made Harry thank all good forces in the universe for the existence of the Weasley clan.