“When you said you wished to leave, I thought it was because you wanted nothing to do with me,” Harry mumbled, his eyes downcast.

Snape cocked his head to the side. “Even if that were true, which I assure you it is not, what difference would it make to you if I left? I have never been anything but cruel to you at the best of times.”

Harry shrugged. “I wasn’t the nicest to you either, sir.” Harry took a long, drawn-out breath. “I had a lot of time to think, after the war. And I suppose I grew up a bit.”

Harry got to his feet and tapped his wand on the teapot, heating the liquid inside. “Tea?”

Snape nodded.

Harry poured them each a cup and handed one to Snape. Then he sat back down. “I’d seen your memories by then, and things that had once seemed so black and white to me started looking a lot more grey.” Harry took a swallow of the tea, the familiar ritual calming his nerves. “Plus, after the war, I had a lot more of the pieces of the puzzle. That helped, too.”

Snape sipped his own tea and remained silent.

“I was already at odds with the Ministry by the time I’d found you.” Harry paused, gazing off into the distance. “When I was asked to join the Aurors, of course I accepted. They said I didn’t need to go through training, that I’d already proved myself by defeating Voldemort. But I insisted.” Looking back at Snape, he added, “I graduated top of the class. I was so proud to be an Auror.”

Harry sighed, remembering what it had been like. At first. “We were doing good things, worthy things. Rounding up Death Eaters, working to clean up the dregs of Wizarding society. I liked it. I felt useful. I felt like I was making a difference.”

Harry shook his head. “Over time, though, things began to change. When we were rounding up Death Eaters, we were generating a lot of good press. But as the number of Death Eaters remaining uncaptured dwindled, the powers that be got antsy. They wanted more. More bad guys. More scapegoats. Soon we weren’t just hunting Death Eaters, but petty criminals. And they were being arrested on trumped up charges to make the Ministry look more effective,” Harry said, putting air quotes around the last word.

“Ron saw the writing on the wall and got out before it went all pear-shaped. I was more optimistic. I still thought I had some control over my duties, that I could still make a difference.” Harry gave Snape a wry smile, disappointed in himself for not seeing it all more clearly at the time. “It just went downhill from there. The raid on the place where you were held was the perfect example--and the final straw for me. By that point, it didn’t matter that there were innocent people locked up and tortured there. To the Ministry, and hence to the Aurors, they were criminals by association, and undeserving of even the most basic of human rights.”

Harry took another sip of tea before setting it aside. “The only reason I am glad that I stayed on as long as I did is because I found you and was able to get you away from that horror.”

Snape shuddered. “When you said that my cell was empty and left me there…” He shook his head and swallowed loudly. “I thought you’d sealed my fate. Out of vengeance.” Snape laughed roughly, a mixture of gallows humor and sorrow. “I found it not only ironic, but deserved, for how I’d betrayed your mother and how I’d treated you.”

“Sir…” Harry said, leaning forward and taking Snape’s hand in his. Snape sucked in a sharp breath and winced. Harry immediately let go. “I’m sorry. Do you need some more pain potion?”

Snape’s eyes had gone glassy. He nodded.

Harry got to his feet and laid a hand on Snape’s shoulder. “Let me get you some. I’ll be right back.” Moments later, Harry returned with the pain-killing draught and helped Snape to drink it.

Returning to his seat, and their conversation, Harry said, “You didn’t deserve that. You spent more years than I can count spying for that madman to atone for your sins. I am only sorry that I didn’t think to look for you after the war.” Harry glanced at his feet, full of regret. “I can’t even imagine being locked in that awful place and all the terrible things you went through, knowing that everyone thought you dead.” Harry shivered at the thought.

Snape turned away.

Glancing back up, Harry said, “You are not a burden. I’m glad you are here. I’m glad I could help you.”

Snape turned back to Harry and studied him a moment before speaking. “Returning to where we started, you were upset because you thought I wanted nothing to do with you?”

Harry nodded. “I thought I repulsed you,” Harry gave Snape a chagrined look and then glanced away. “It seems I have abandonment issues,” Harry said, using air quotes.

Snape looked startled. “You thought I was repulsed by you?”

“Well, yeah. You were really angry about me binding us together… sexually…” Harry quickly raised his hands, “which was unintentional, I assure you. And, well, the rumor at Hogwarts was that you were gay. So I assumed that it was just me that was the problem.”

“Just you,” Snape repeated, deadpan.

Harry shrugged.

Much to Harry’s surprise, Snape started to laugh. He laughed so hard he held his stomach and moaned.

“Hey,” Harry said. “It’s not that funny. And you’re killing my ego here.”

Snape sobered. “Potter. You are a very handsome man. You are the hero of the Wizarding world. You are the darling of Wizarding society. Every witch and wizard in Great Britain would give their wand arm to bond with you.” Snape paused to sip his tea, his voice having nearly left him. “Meanwhile, I am a crippled former Death Eater without a penny to my name, without even a name as far as that goes. I am nothing special to look at. I’m old enough to be your father. And I have absolutely nothing to offer you. Not even a winning personality to make up for my failings. And you think that you are the problem here?”

Harry smiled sheepishly. “Well, when you put it that way…” Clearing his throat, and unsure if Snape would answer, he asked, “Out of curiosity, are you gay?”

“I… I was…” Snape said, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“You were?” Harry asked, confused about Snape’s use of the past tense.

Snape seemed to draw in on himself. “I don’t think… after what they did to me… I…”

Harry wanted to smack himself on the forehead. “I’m sorry, Snape. I didn’t mean to...”

Snape waved a hand at him. “Leave it.”

“All right,” Harry said quietly. He shifted in his chair, unsure of how to phrase what was on his mind. “Not to bring up the obvious, but, what does it mean if we are bonded together sexually? I mean, what… what will we have to do?”

Snape grimaced. “Nothing, I hope. Especially since, unlike me, you are not gay.” Snape glanced at Harry for confirmation and Harry nodded vehemently. “Also, as I am not… inclined… to act on the nature of the bond, and nor are you, I imagine we’ll be safe enough, for now.”

Harry bit his lip. He hated to push, but the nerves in the pit of his stomach were driving him barmy. He needed to know. “Umm… what about… you know… before.”

Snape’s cheeks flushed a dull red. “Given that you modified the ritual, I would expect that that unfortunate display,” Snape said, his lip curling in disgust, “was necessary to complete it.” Snape heaved a deep sigh. “I must apologize for that, Potter. I would not have taken such liberties had I had any choice in the matter. It was beyond my control, and I assure you it won’t happen again.”

“It’s all right, sir,” Harry said. It wasn’t, not really, but there was nothing to be done for it now. It still squicked Harry out a bit, though. Still, there was one thing Snape said that Harry didn’t quite understand. “What do you mean, it was necessary to complete the ritual?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” Snape asked, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Er… unless you want me to go ask Hermione…” Harry admitted.

Snape sighed theatrically and Harry bit back a grin.

“Bonding rituals require that both participants contribute. And when it comes to sexual fluids, that contribution typically needs to be equal.” At Harry’s confused look, Snape rolled his eyes. “You added your semen to the ritual, wiping it on my skin and my lips, Potter. You also sucked my saliva-coated finger into your mouth. Hence the ritual required that I contribute my semen, and my saliva, as well.”

“Oh,” Harry said. His face suddenly felt uncomfortably hot. “So, maybe that’s it, then. Maybe we aren’t bonded sexually. Maybe it was just a one-time exchange thing.”

“It’s possible,” Snape replied, setting his half-empty teacup on the bedside table.

“Do you think the bond will make us do anything more? Sexually, I mean?”

A look of stark fear entered Snape’s eyes. “I sincerely hope not,” he said, his voice growing hoarse. “I don’t think I could bear it. Not… not after…” Snape squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath. And then another. Then, as if he’d lost the fight, he let out a wail and rolled away from Harry.

“Leave me,” Snape implored, his voice breaking.

Harry got up from his chair, feeling shaken by the sight and sound of Snape coming undone. Snape, who’d always been so fierce and unyielding. Harry never imagined he’d see the man so broken. He glanced toward the door, debating what to do. Hermione would likely be better at dealing with this, but sexually or not, he and Snape were bonded for life.

Harry squared his shoulders. “Unless you insist that I leave, I’d rather not, sir. You’ve had to deal with this alone for the last two years. You shouldn’t have to be alone anymore. Not… not when I’m here.”

Harry held his breath and waited for Snape to scream at him to get out. Snape of all people wouldn’t want to be witnessed having a breakdown. Instead, Snape howled even louder and buried his face in his pillow, his whole body shaking with his sobs.

Harry sat on the bed, near the man’s back, and reached out his hand. He placed it lightly on Snape’s shoulder and waited to see how the man responded. Unexpected touch tended to make the older wizard flinch and, after what Snape had been through, Harry didn’t want to cause him anymore pain.

When Snape didn’t pull away, Harry rubbed the wizard’s trembling shoulder. “I’m really sorry for all you’ve been through, sir,” Harry said. “But you’re safe here now. You’re safe with me. I promise. And you don’t have to face it alone any longer. I’ll be here for you, if you let me. As a… a friend.”

Snape let out another howl and curled into the fetal position, pulling away from Harry. Harry let his hand fall away, unsure if his touch was welcome.

When Snape’s hand reached up, fingers searching, Harry clasped it. Snape pulled their linked hands down against his chest and held on.

“It’s all right,” Harry soothed. “I’m here. You’re safe now.”

Uncomfortably twisted around as he was, Harry lifted his leg onto the bed and turned to face forward, his hip and thigh rested against Snape’s back. When Snape didn’t jerk away, Harry relaxed, staring blankly at a picture of the sea that hung over his bed.

“If it helps any, I was a right mess after the war. I cried for weeks. I just couldn’t seem to get over the loss of so many people I cared about. Including you,” Harry said, reaching out with his other hand to squeeze the man’s shoulder. “Ron lost his brother, and Hermione had wiped her parents’ memory of her to keep them safe. And yet, they still took care of me. Neville and Luna did too. Without them, I wouldn’t have made it through.”

Harry reflected on that dark time in his life. Everyone had expected him to be behave like some triumphant hero, the proud avenger of his parents’ deaths. But all he’d felt was the bleakness of loss and despair and destruction.

“I stayed in bed for days,” Harry continued. “I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. And the nightmares,” Harry said with a shiver. “I still get them sometimes, but not so often anymore. They mostly went away after I sold Grimmauld Place and moved here.”

Without conscious thought, Harry ran his hand over Snape’s short hair. “This place is much smaller, but I don’t mind. I didn’t need all that space anyway. And this house is bright and open, not dark and closed in like Grimmauld Place was.”

Harry glanced down to see that Snape had calmed some, although tears still ran freely down his face. “It was Hermione that convinced me that I needed to relocate. She knew I needed a change. It was hard at first, but she was right.” She’s always right, he thought to himself.

Harry dropped his hand from Snape’s hair and pulled it into his lap, feeling suddenly self-conscious about touching the man so freely. “I know it’s not easy to talk about what happened, but if you ever need to, I’d be willing to listen.”

Harry felt Snape stiffen beneath him. “No pressure, Snape. I was just offering. It’s hard trying to keep it together and hold it all in. I know, I tried that.”

Harry frowned in embarrassment at the memory of Hermione finding him. He sighed and fingered the hole in his T-shirt with his left hand while he squeezed Snape’s hand with his right. “After the war, I couldn’t talk about it. Not with anyone. I felt like if I said a word, one single word, about the way I was feeling… I’d fly apart.” Harry stared off into the distance, that time seeming like a distant memory now.

“Once I’d finally got out of bed, I threw myself at all the things people expected of me in an effort to distract myself. I got back together with Ginny. I joined the Auror Academy. I gave interviews in hopes that it would get the press off my back.” Harry shook his head. “It didn’t, in case you were wondering. It just made them hungry for more.”

Harry glanced down at Snape, who seemed to be breathing a bit easier. Still, the man held onto Harry’s hand as if it was a lifeline. “I’m probably boring you to death,” Harry mused. “Do you want me to continue?” To his surprise, Snape nodded.

“Well, after one too many panic attacks, Kingsley told me I had PTSD and he put me on leave. He said, in not so many words, not to come back until I got my shit together. After that, I started drinking,” Harry said grimly. “Finally, Ginny had had enough of me, too, and she left.” Harry sighed. “It was for the best, really. I wasn’t in a good place. She got back together with Dean Thomas and they married a year later.”

He was happy for Ginny, he really was. He knew he’d have never been able to be what she needed. Still, it hurt sometimes. After Ginny and Dean had married, Ron and Hermione had taken their vows. So had Neville and Luna. He felt so alone sometimes.

“I’d pretty much driven everyone away by that point,” he continued. “Ron was at the Auror Academy and Hermione’d gone off to Australia to find her parents. When she got back to England, she came here straight away. I was in a right state when she finally found me, huddled up and sobbing in the back of a closet.” Harry let out a laugh. “Yep, you heard me right. I was cowering in a fucking closet.”

Harry was surprised to feel Snape squeeze his hand.

Harry squeezed back. “Hermione told me if I didn’t tell her what was going on that instant, she was going to haul my arse off to St. Mungo’s, where they’d lock me up for sure. The Boy Who Lived Gone Completely Batty. After that, I started talking. First to Hermione, then to Ron, then to a counselor. It was hard at first, but the more I talked about it, the easier it became. And the better I felt.”

Harry bit his lip. “I won’t pretend that I didn’t hate it sometimes. Or that I didn’t resent my friends for their constant worry and intrusion into my life. I was angry. And desperate. And I felt so damn alone. Like no one understood. Like I was a freak for feeling how I did.” He let out a long breath.

“But I wasn’t a freak for feeling as I did, and neither are you. Sometimes life deals you a shit hand, and you just have to get through it.” Harry shrugged. “At least, that’s how it was for me. And I didn’t go through one-one-hundredth of what you did.” He glanced down at Snape, startled to see the man watching him. Suddenly, it felt very awkward being this close to him.

Snape must have felt the same because he let go of Harry’s hand and scooted over, putting some space between them as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Then he cleared his throat. Looking clearly uncomfortable, he said, “Thank you, Potter. For staying with me. I apologize for that bout of weakness.”

Harry cocked his head. “You may be a lot of things, Snape, but weak is not one of them. A weak man would never have made it through what you did.”

Harry reheated and refilled their cups of tea, handing one to Snape. “And, as my counselor drilled into my head, showing emotions is not a weakness, but a strength. One that too few men are comfortable doing in our society.”

Snape harrumphed and raised the tea to his lips.

“Would you like some lunch?” Harry asked. “I could certainly use some.”

“That would be acceptable,” Snape said. After setting his cup aside, he caught Harry’s gaze. “Are you truly all right with me staying here? You don’t wish for me to find my own lodgings?”

“Well, I might like my bed back someday. But you are more than welcome to stay. There are two other rooms on this floor. You could use one as your bedroom and the other as a potions lab, if you like. I don’t have any use for them, anyway.”

Snape looked a combination of surprised and uncertain.

Harry shrugged. “Bonded, remember? Might as well make the best of it.”