A Potion

Chapter 2

Severus Snape sat quietly in his chair, contemplatively twirling his wand over his middle and forefinger. His cheeks grew hot as he looked back complacently on the previous nights happenings. He had always thought Harry to be an excellent kisser, improving with each time they snogged, but he had not fathomed to dream about the other ways the boy’s mouth could be skilled. And his mouth was indeed more skilled than imaginable. Snape shivered and smiled with satisfaction.

Of course it had crossed his mind that they had gone too far, too fast; that they should have waited longer. This was most definitely a most worrisome dilemma. He had continuously berated himself for allowing Harry to go through with it. Why hadn’t he stopped himself? He was an adult, he knew better. Snape frowned and shook his head. He knew no better than a toddler when he was with Harry. The boy had the irritating ability to relax him past the point of lethargy. He was content with Harry. Admitting to that, however, brought up another question. This question was truly a serious one to be taken into speculation. He’d mulled it over in his head constantly. ‘Do I love him?’ Then there was the other question that always preceded this one, ‘Does he love me?’

Their relationship was escalating quickly, and Snape sincerely doubted that he would be able to restrain himself from more intimate endeavors for much longer. He told himself that it was Harry who was not ready to take the next step. It was Harry that was unsure. He knew this was not the truth. It was Snape himself who was questioning things. He was nervous, and dare he admit it, afraid. He didn’t quite understand it. He wanted to make love to Harry. Yes, this much was true. But he wanted it to be meaningful. He wanted it to be powerful and real. He had never had anything real in his life. The Dark Lord had mercilessly yanked all the meaning and love from his life. Going back and forth as Dumbledore’s personal lapdog, he had ever fully recovered. Now Harry had showed him tenderness. Harry wanted him as no other person had wanted him before. The thought was wonderfully astounding and incomprehensibly frightening. If he did something wrong, he could drive Harry away forever. He could lose his one chance at finally being happy and loved. If he admitted to loving Harry, he would have shed himself of his protective clothing. He would be out in front of the Boy Who Lived; naked and vulnerable. One false move; one change of thought, and Harry could snap him like a twig.

A soft knock sounded on the dungeon door. Snape looked up and felt his stomach twist as Harry walked into the room, smiling.

“Hello, Severus,” Harry’s eyes shone with warmth.

Suddenly, Snape knew. The questions stopped spinning around in his head as he gazed upon Harry. Now he knew the answer. He felt it. It consumed him and left him enraptured by his own emotion and gratified in every sense. He loved Harry. He loved him from the deepest core of his soul. Every fiber of his being cried out for boy in front of him. The man in front of him. He loved him with a desperation that surpassed every desire ever to course through his worn veins. He loved Harry Potter.

He was not afraid. He stood up and rounded his desk, looking upon the beloved face of his other. It was time. Time to take the chance that he could fail. The chance that things could end and he could be left wounded, dying in the darkest corners of the abyss of heartbreak. It was time to become vulnerable and trust in something other than his own cold, hardened exterior. He was sick of being left behind as everyone enjoyed their lives of happiness and pleasure. It was his turn. He didn’t want to be left out anymore. Taking Harry tenderly into his arms, he whispered the three words that would undoubtedly be his end. Harry stiffened, then relaxed. Snape tensed with trepidation, waiting for a reply. And then it came. The whole world seemed to turn upside down and time stopped. All that was dirty and foul in the world vanished as if it had all been an illusion to dilute you from the truth. The apparitions called pain, and sadness, and anger left; gone without a trace and never to return. The world was righted in this moment of bliss as Harry spoke his answer. His crystalline voice resounded hypnotically within Snape’s frozen mind, melting away the cold ice that had once protected him from the dangers of reality. Snape shook with an uncharacteristic emotion as the words registered slowly. So this was reality. The feeling was unbearable. He wanted to rip his heart from his chest and throw it as afar away from him as possible to rid himself of the overwhelming emotion. It felt so much like pain. An intense fire sparked to life within his very soul and he struggled to comprehend; knowing full well he could not even begin to understand. No matter how difficult the next part was going to be. Even if the rest of his life would not suffice to help him to grasp this knowledge. It had been enough to hear these words.

Harry, unwavering and earnest, sighed ardently and replied, “With all my heart, I love you too.”

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Short, sweet, concise. I wanted to show how Sev felt before I continued.

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