Light on the Dark Side of Me

Title: Light on the Dark Side of Me
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.
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Light on the Dark Side of Me
Chapter 31: Let me show you what I think of you


Harry made his way to the dungeons Friday evening right after he was dismissed from his last class of the day. It had been over a week since he had been alone with Severus and he found himself filled with nervous excitement – eager, yet apprehensive, to see and speak with him. But if his confinement with Severus Snape had taught Harry anything, it was that this wasn’t going to be easy. He only hoped that Dumbledore’s advice and words of encouragement would carry him through.

The wards granted Harry access to Snape’s quarters as he expected. But since Severus wasn’t expecting him, Harry knocked on the door to the sitting room and opened it only after he heard the terse, “Enter.”

When Snape felt his wards grant entrance to someone, he had assumed it was Albus, who had become a fixture in these rooms of late. Snape was more than a little surprised to see Harry Potter standing in his quarters again and it could not have been plainer on his face. Speech momentarily left him, but he regained it quickly with his sarcastic whip.

“Have you missed my endearing company already?” Snape drawled with heavy sarcasm.

“Actually yes,” Harry said with a smile on his face.

“Why are you here?” Snape asked tersely.

“It’s all business with you, isn’t it? Well firstly, I wanted to discuss the arrangements for my lessons. Can I come in by the way?” Harry asked somewhat sheepishly.

Snape rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you are actually waiting for an invitation. You’ve never had the courtesy before.”

“Well maybe. But this is a bit awkward,” Harry admitted before stepping inside.

“Why? Because the two of us were walking about sloshed and half-naked several nights ago?” Snape asked incisively, with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Maybe,” Harry began with a smile. “As I was saying…the last few weeks after my lessons, I would occasionally fall asleep down here and stuff. And after speaking with Professor Dumbledore, I realize that I can’t keep doing that because people might start getting suspicious,” Harry said. Snape cursed himself inwardly as he felt his throat tightening. Harry continued, “Especially if I’m here on nights when I don’t have lessons.”

Snape barely registered the last part. All he knew was that Harry had told him he could not remain in his quarters any longer than was necessary. What did you expect Severus? It’s back to life as usual. Did you really expect him to stay and hold your hand at night? Snape drew himself further into his shell – masking the sting with his annoyance.

“I’m perfectly aware that you should not be down here past curfew. I don’t understand why you are telling me this. Why are you here?” Snape asked again, this time with something akin to a growl.

“I wanted to spend some time with you.”

“We already had our forced cohabitation, Potter,” Snape replied coldly.

“Stop it, Severus. I enjoyed our time together.”

Snape snorted and spat contemptuously, “I don’t need your pity.”

Damn he’s closed himself up tight, Harry thought. He replied kindly, “It’s not pity, Severus.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Snape said savagely, his eyes darkening with anger.

“Fine. I won’t. I could have left at any time.”

“Excuse me?” Snape asked, unable to keep the confusion from his face.

“I said, I could have left at any time. Dumbledore confined you to the dungeons, not me. Granted he came up with the whole idea, and he asked me to do it. I thought he was barmy at first, but he convinced me to try it for a while. He told me if I wanted to leave after three days time, I could. Obviously, I didn’t.”

He stayed of his own volition? Don’t you dare think it, Severus!

Snape’s reply was not nearly so kind. He sneered mockingly, “How very noble of you, Potter! You’re a Gryffindor through and through.” And barely a tick later, Snape spat nastily, “What…did you think you could save me, Potter?”

“Damn you! Do you have to be such an arse!?” Harry took a moment and replied with forced calm, “Please stop doing this, Severus.”

“What?”

“Blocking me out again.”

“Why you little fuck! You think you have me figured out, don’t you?” Snape snarled with a menacing wide-eyed glare, incensed to no end by Harry’s calm.

Harry laughed at that. “Not in a million years, Severus. But I have myself figured out. I have for a very long time now. And I know what I want.”

“Pray tell. What is it that you want?” Snape asked in angry exasperation.

Harry took a deep breath and said firmly, “You. I want you.”

Me? He wants me? Snape felt his lungs tighten slightly, but he kept his gaze steady, his voice firm. “You can’t have me.”

“Why not?”

Now it was Snape’s turn to take a deep breath. “I admit…the hard feelings between us have dissolved somewhat.” Snape hesitated a moment, but decided that however uncomfortable it might be to admit his feelings, candor was in order. “Dare I say it…I hope that we have developed a friendship. If you choose to continue it, then I shall consider myself a fortunate man and we will have to be content with that. More…is impossible.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” Snape whispered in a low voice.

Harry took a few steps forward. “Severus, I want to be with you. You didn’t believe me when I told you that before. But now…now I think you have to admit that I have a pretty good idea of what I’m getting myself into. Don’t you think?”

Snape couldn’t believe the words that had just left Harry’s mouth. Harry still wanted him – him! It was too good to be true, and his mind attempted to crush down the hope that was rising rapidly in his heart.

“This is ridiculous. How could you possibly want me? I’m your ugly snarky bastard of a Professor. What would your friends say?” Snape asked, trying unsuccessfully to make his voice sound harsh, realizing too late that it sounded more like a plea.

“Don’t even go there, Severus. This is so far beyond them now.”

Snape’s eyes lit up in triumph, ready for a retort, but Harry cut him off, “But I’ve already told them.”

“What? Told them? Told them what?” Snape asked incredulously. He told his friends about me!?

“I told them…that I wanted to be with you and that you were pushing me away. I told them that despite the fact that you’re pushing me away…that I consider myself with you already. I told them that I didn’t care if the whole school knew. And…” Harry paused, taking a measured breath, “And I told them…that I love you.”

Snape’s body froze completely and he felt his heart still in his chest.

“Ww…what?”

“I love you, Severus. I’ve loved you for a very long time now.”

Snape’s brain was working extra hard to process Harry’s words – words Severus Snape never thought he would hear. Not from anyone. And certainly not from someone he loved, certainly not from Harry.

“I don’t deserve your love, Harry.”

Harry studied Severus carefully, before replying with a hint of humor, “Well that’s a new one. I suppose this is progress. I was expecting, ‘you can’t possibly.’”

Snape said nothing in response, staring at the young man in front of him in disbelief – suddenly so mature, calm and collected, and changed.

Harry pressed on. “You’re wrong, you know. You do deserve my love,” Harry said gently and closed the distance between them with a few short steps. He reached his hand out and lightly stroked Snape’s cheek.

Snape stiffened sharply at the contact, and cursed his weakness at not withdrawing sooner from the touch. Steadying himself, Snape began, his eyes clearly full of pain, “Harry…how could you…how could you possibly want that? After the things…the things…”

“They are forgiven, Severus. Don’t you remember?”

“Forgiven perhaps, but not forgotten. I’ve tainted things between us. Can’t you understand that?”

“No you haven’t. You showed me the truth. And in the time we spent together, you revealed yourself to me – you showed me at least part of your pain. And that was so brave of you, so incredibly brave, braver than I could ever be. I’m not naive, Severus. I know there is so much more you…we…need to work through – that this is just the beginning. But I want to do it together. I want to be there for you.”

Snape’s expression reflected the myriad of complex emotions that he was experiencing at that precise moment. Snape met Harry’s gaze fully, and spoke slowly, with resolute determination, willing him to understand, “Harry. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to hear you say that—”

“I don’t want to hear the word ‘but,’ Severus.”

“However…for us to be together…it’s impossible.”

Impossible. Harry had grown to hate that word. “Why?”

“You don’t understand, Harry,” Snape said in a muffled whisper, his head dropping slightly in a gesture Harry recognized as shame.

Snape realized his voice was on the verge of cracking. This was too painful to say. He couldn’t say it. He had barely begun to face this himself – this idea, this gruesome reality. Saying it out loud would make it real – but he knew he needed to. Because he needed to make Harry understand.

“I’ll very likely have to…have to…go to him and…and…” Snape stopped, trying to stave off hyperventilation as the mere thought entered his mind, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t crumble right then and there in front of Harry.

Snape waited for it – the look of horror on Harry’s face. The look of revulsion when Harry realized that he would, in all likelihood, have to enact the same perverted game with Voldemort again. Snape waited for it.

But it never came. Snape didn’t know that Harry already knew. That he had, in fact, suspected early on. Dumbledore had not even needed to explain it to him. And, yes, it hurt him – it hurt him deeply to know that Severus would have to face that again. And now, looking at the man before him, Harry could feel Severus’s torment, his self-loathing. On the verge of tears himself at the magnitude of Severus’s anguish, he spoke with soothing fortitude, begging Severus to see the truth in his words.

“I know, Severus. I know. But this time, you’ll have me to come home to. And while you’re there…with him…you’ll carry the knowledge that I love you more than anything else in this entire world.”

This can’t be real. You have to be dreaming, Severus. With deliberate effort, Snape forced himself to meet Harry’s eyes. His voice, all but lost in his throat, came out in a hoarse whisper, “How can you possibly not be disgusted by that…by me?”

Harry could see the depth of Severus’s pain in that single gaze. He had never seen it before – all of their previous conversations had been conducted in the relative safety of dark. But here it was. And it was unmistakable – Severus, vulnerable and open, as he never thought he could be, as Harry never thought he would see him. And in that second, which seemed to last a lifetime, Harry felt his stomach clench and his lungs tighten as what was so plainly in front of him. He found himself overwhelmed once more by what this man had suffered, was suffering, and now, would continue to suffer. And he did not know – he could not fathom – how Severus managed to carry on – to breath, to exist – with that kind of agony eating away at him.

Knowing he had but a second before Severus slipped back into that artificial gaze of indifference, Harry stepped forward and seized him in a fierce embrace – desperate to ease one ounce of Severus’s pain, to lift but a hint of his burden.

Harry could feel the tremors coursing through Severus’s body as he held him. He waited for them to subside before he stepped back.

“Let me show you,” Harry said with fervid sincerity. “Let me show you what I think of you, Severus.”

Knowing full well that words could only get him so far, Harry reached down and took Snape’s left hand in his own. Then slowly, while alternating his gaze between the man’s astonished stare and the actions of his fingers, Harry pushed back Snape’s robe and began undoing his left cufflink.

Snape watched with wide-eyed terror as Harry opened his sleeve. He fought the rising panic within him, resisting the urge to bolt from the room.

The sleeve fell open and Harry caught sight of Snape’s Dark Mark – the sinister image embedded in his flesh contrasted sharply against his pale skin. Snape instinctively tried to pull away, but Harry tightened his grip on his left hand and said firmly, “Don’t move.”

Very slowly, with measured care he hoped would ease Severus’s intense discomfort, Harry bent over slightly and brought his lips to the exposed forearm. Snape released a shocked hiss, a sound akin to pain at the contact, his entire body jerking in protest to what Harry was doing.

Harry stopped momentarily, looked Severus in the eye and whispered, his breath playing against the Mark, “I love you, Severus. Every part of you. All of you.” Returning once again to his task, he began placing warm, delicate kisses all along the black image, from the top of the skull all the way down to the head of the serpent, methodically covering every centimeter of marked skin.

Inexplicably, Harry’s words seemed to take away what little fight remained in Snape’s tired body. He obeyed and stood still as Harry’s lips worshipped the forearm he detested, and had hid for so long – his mind too stunned, too awed, too exhausted, to do anything but feel.

Harry could sense Severus’s profound disbelief at what he was doing, what he was saying. But with uncharacteristic patience, Harry was prepared to do anything and everything to make Severus believe.

Standing up straight, Harry took a step forward and closed what little distance remained between them. Reaching up and placing his hands behind Severus’s neck, he pulled the man’s face down slightly towards his own, compensating for their height difference. Severus was more than a little surprised when Harry did not kiss him. Instead, Harry leaned in and rested his cheek against Severus’s. Neither was aware of how long they remained like this, unmoving, Harry’s nose buried into the side of Severus’s neck, inhaling the scent he had so missed. The intimacy of this moment was not lost on Severus. Harry broke the contact only to brush his lips against the whole of Severus’s face and neck, in soft almost feathery touches.

Snape marveled at the deliberateness of Harry’s actions – so calm, controlled, so unrushed – nothing like the urgency he had seen from this young man just three months prior. This was different – Severus could feel it.

Harry wondered if Severus understood. Wondered if Severus could feel his tacit message. He spoke the words, just in case. Snape could feel the vibration against the base of his throat as Harry spoke, and then felt the words again mingled with Harry’s hot breath in his ear, “I love you.”

Harry reached his hands up to Snape’s shoulders, and began pulling off the man’s heavy outer robe. Snape’s eyes widened slightly, but he made no move to stop the young man. Harry wondered whether Severus’s silence was derived more out of curiosity or panic. Harry did not mistake it for calm. He could feel Severus’s anxiety – although he had already dispelled much of it, he was determined to take it all away, if only for a moment.

Tossing aside the mass of black fabric that in his estimation weighed too much to be comfortable, Harry noted that although Severus remained fully clothed, the outline of his body was much more visible under the perfectly pressed black trousers, the black button-laden waistcoat and the crisp white shirt.

Harry raised his hand once more and delicately tucked away a stray lock of Severus’s hair behind his ear before placing a soft, tender kiss on the exposed cheek. And then, with an almost strange slow thoughtfulness about him, Harry pressed his lips to Severus’s – their first kiss in nearly three months.

The kiss was gentle, loving, languid. Harry was amazed at how very familiar it was, and yet how, at the same time, it was something new and exciting – a rediscovery of sorts. A moment later, Harry allowed his tongue to graze Severus’s lower lip and felt him shiver in response.

Snape squeezed his eyes tightly shut at the feeling of Harry’s lips pressed against his once more, at the feeling of Harry’s tongue now delicately stroking his lower lip, asking for entrance into his mouth. Snape’s mind was reeling with what was certainly too many conflicting thoughts. Everything from a confused, How can this be happening?, to a terrified, Please let this not be happening, to an exhilarated, Oh Merlin, please let this be real. But the latter seemed to win out at the moment as Snape, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest, granted Harry what he desired.

And even though it had been so long, and although neither Harry nor Severus had forgotten what the other tasted like, they both groaned as their tongues connected, each surprised at the exquisiteness of it – a confirmation that they had not dreamed the perfection of their previous encounter.

A long moment passed before Harry broke the contact. If Snape was surprised by Harry’s abrupt release, he did not show it, and he remained perfectly still, eyeing Harry with polite (if slightly breathless) curiosity. Harry leaned back and studied Snape carefully. Satisfied that Severus was not about to bolt and that he had, in fact, enjoyed this ‘first’ kiss as much as he had, Harry felt overcome with an urge to explain, to describe how much that kiss had meant – how long-awaited it had been. Unable to find the right words, this time he lunged at unsuspecting man, grabbing him forcefully around the waist, pressing their chests together as their mouths collided.

The ensuing kiss was fiery and passionate – as Snape did not know Harry could be. And Harry’s message to Severus was all too clear. I don’t want to go another day without you, Severus, Harry thought. But the words remained trapped inside his mouth. Whether it was because of faith or fear, Harry did not know.

Slowly, precisely, Harry snaked his hand underneath Snape’s shirt, placing his palm over the small of his bare back. The movement of his hand may have been restricted due to the tightness of Snape’s waistcoat, but Harry did not care – it was the first real bit of skin contact he had had with Severus. And he prayed that it would not be the last.

Trapped in this uncertain embrace, neither was aware of time, neither knew if these brief moments may have been seconds or minutes or hours – finite or infinite. And it did not matter. Because in this instant, they had paradise. Harry increased his hold on Severus, pressed his cheek against Severus’s clothed chest and began whispering love-filled declarations, worshipful words and inexplicable longings.

Snape, for his part, remained motionless, and it seemed to Harry that the man was suspended in some sort of fog. And Harry hoped against hope that it would never clear. Snape wondered momentarily through his haze what he should do with his hands – push Harry away or pull the young man tighter against him.

Snape managed to look down at the keen boy, who was now rubbing his face, almost writhing, against his chest, whispering something to him – words that he could not discern. Words that he was certain he was not ready to hear. Words whose meaning would remain unknown to him for a long time to come.

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A/N: Sorry to leave this chapter like this. It is a bit of a cliffy.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed.

For those of you who mentioned being interested in what Dumbledore had to say to Severus and those conversations between them, I have both good and bad news. Bad news is that I couldn’t quite put this in this story, so no more Dumbledore here. But I omitted it because I really wanted to do these sorts of conversations justice (about the stresses of Severus’s spying, etc). Hence I plan to incorporate these sorts of things into the sequel. So stayed tuned for that.

I look forward to your comments. Especially on Harry’s approach to things and Severus’s reaction and that oh so sweet moment of vulnerability!