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Chapter Text

Minerva read off the next line from the staff meeting agenda. “Sybil will not be returning from her sabbatical.” She scratched a line through the listed task before glancing around the table. “She’s decided to remain in Siberia.”

“Oh.” Severus clicked his tongue and banged his fist on the staff room table. “What an utter shame.” 

“A true loss for us all,” Harry added from across the table. With a grin, he attempted, and failed, to grab Severus’ attention. 

Minerva cleared her throat and continued, “We’ll need to look for a replacement.” 

Severus leaned back in his chair, drumming each of his long fingers against the table. “Must we really though?”  

“Severus.” 

“Minerva.” 

Filius clinked the edges of his teacup as he stirred in a cube of sugar. “Divination’s a useless subject.” 

“Thank you, Filius. We agree entirely,” Severus said, nodding once in the man’s direction. 

Harry pressed his lips together, pulled his hands into his lap, and picked at his thumbnail. 

“Nevertheless,” Minerva laced her fingers together and placed them on the table, “the board will insist the subject be covered at Hogwarts.” 

Severus rolled his eyes. “You cannot teach true divination.” 

Harry listened as they discussed the merit of replacing Trelawney. Well, half listened. No one ever paid him any mind at staff meetings. Mostly the old guard passed opinions back and forth while the handful of newer staff members looked on. He made his own cup of tea, grabbed a couple of biscuits from the platter, and settled in.

This was only Harry’s second year on staff as the DADA professor. He’d got the job straight out of his Defense Mastery Program. The last bloke that held the Defense professorship made it three years without anything catastrophic happening. Thus, the general consensus was that the position was now curse-free. Severus hadn’t wanted it. He’d gone back to teaching Potions. 

Aside from Minerva taking over as Headmistress (after Severus refused to even be considered), the rest of the staff was about the same as when Harry was a student. There was a new Transfiguration professor, Edmund Mead, but he was absolutely ancient and never said anything at all. Then, there was Cecily Brunswork, the new Muggle Studies professor and the only other staff member near as young and untried as Harry. He smiled at her down at the other end of the staff table as he took his first sip of tea. That, of course, Severus took notice of. The man’s eyes darted between the two of them. Harry braced for a sneer, but Severus only crossed his arms against his chest and looked back at Minerva. 

Harry had left Severus alone after the war, and Severus had made no attempt to contact Harry. When Harry’d first started at Hogwarts, he was keen to make friends with his old professor. They’d been allies. They had history. If Severus did not want to make friends with Harry then perhaps, at the very least, they could be civil acquaintances. 

Harry rallied himself up to the daunting task. Drummed up a few viable avenues of conversation. Even practiced saying ‘Severus’ in the mirror before his first staff meeting. He thought that act alone might rile the man up a bit and break the ice. But it was for naught. Being co-workers hadn’t mattered. The passage of years hadn’t mattered. 

And, it wasn’t that Severus was rude, or even cold. He was nothing. He didn’t insult Harry. He didn’t go out of his way to avoid him. He just didn’t seem to care that Harry was there one way or another. And that was worse. After everything Harry now knew about the man— It was much, much worse. The indifference stung.

Severus placed an elbow on the table, fisted his hand, and laid his cheek to rest against it. With his other hand, he scribbled away on a piece of parchment. His face scrunched up in a way that made his nose seem smaller. There was a set of wrinkle lines that branched up from the bridge of his nose. Two perfect, little scowl lines.  

“Mr. Potter.” 

Harry jerked his head in the direction of the voice. Minerva. It’d been years since she called him ‘Mr. Potter’. She gave him a significant look. He’d missed something. He looked around the table and everyone looked back at him. Except Severus, naturally. 

“Er, sorry,” Harry said. “Did you ask me something, Headmistress?” 

“I asked you to chaperone the Muggle Studies camping trip at the end of the month.” 

Harry’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. 

Severus snorted and sat up straight. 

“You as well.” Minerva turned towards Severus and Harry’s eyes went wide. 

Severus responded with a simple, “No.” 

“It wasn’t a request,” Minerva said. “To either of you.” 

“It can’t possibly be my turn already.”  

“The duty is not turn-based, Severus.” 

“I’m unavailable.” Severus shook his head. “I have potions-” 

“I checked with Poppy. She has no pressing needs.” 

Severus turned, found the mediwitch a few seats down, and sent her a glare fierce enough to melt salt. 

Minerva continued, “You and Harry are the youngest staff members, aside from Cecily. You are more equipped to handle the rigors of the trip.” 

The annual Muggle Studies camping trip was a new tradition, aimed to encourage enrollment in the elective. Cecily had started it and it wasn’t the worst idea. All of the third years signed up for the class just so they could go camping somewhere in Cornwall for a week over the Easter hols. 

They weren’t allowed to use magic at all while there.  

No wands. No potions. No wizarding objects of any kind.  

Just twenty 13-year-olds and a couple chaperones.  

“Cecily, of course, will be there,” Minerva continued with a nod toward the Muggle Studies professor, “and Rolanda volunteered again.” 

Rolanda smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it. Always a lovely change of pace, and the whole venture is invigorating.” 

“So,” Minerva said. “We have two female chaperones and we needed two male ones. Severus, Harry, you boys are it. End of discussion.” 

Harry met Severus’ eyes. Severus huffed, rolled his, and returned them to his parchment. 

********** 

“That doesn’t actually sound like any fun, mate,” Ron said. 

“I know that.” 

“That Cecily Brunswork girl is nice to look at, at least.” Ron scrubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. It made that scratchy sound Harry always liked, it being so quintessentially male and all. Ron smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. “Will you get to share a tent with her, one of those little Muggle ones?” 

Harry scoffed. “Ron, there’ll be two dozen students with us.” 

“So.” His shoulders lifted once and dropped again. The many trinkets pinned to his auror robes made a tinkling sound, one loud enough Harry could hear it even over the chatter and buzz of Rosmerta’s. “You’ve not dated anyone since Ginny, and that was a lifetime ago.” 

“Yeah, not interested in having that conversation tonight. How’s work?” 

“The usual nonsense. Robards has got his knickers in a twist about this case down in Sussex. An old family, you know, one that gives loads of money to Ministry foundations, they had their dog stolen, or so they say. I reckon it ran away. Tired of all the primping and preening. Plus, the lady carried the thing around with her in this bag. A bag. It was a posh bag, don’t get me wrong, but it was still a ruddy bag. Robards doesn’t want to hear it though, just wants the pampered dog found.”

Harry never for a moment envied Ron’s choice to join the MLE. Harry’s life at Hogwarts was peaceful and quiet. Simple. Things weren’t perfect. He was still finding his footing with the other professors. He was still establishing his reputation with students. He was still looking, looking, looking for stability and security, but he was the happiest he’d ever been. He was happy with the new life he’d created from the shards of the old one. He never looked back, only forward. He did what made him feel fulfilled and whole. He did what he wanted to do. No more, no less.

“Weasley!” Rolanda appeared, pulled back a chair, and thumped her mug down onto the table. “You here for the camp chaperone meeting too?”

Ron chuckled. “Never. Just catching a drink with Harry during the few spare minutes we get that line up. You been following the Cannons this season?”

“Course,” she replied and the two were off. Harry joined in here and there, until he caught sight of Cecily and Severus as they came through the door together. She was a cute girl, Harry supposed. Curvy and soft looking. She always smelled nice, like something sugar-y and light. Her skin was dark and smooth. Severus was the opposite of curvy and soft, of sugar and light. He was all long lines and sharp edges. He slid into the seat next to Harry, the only empty chair at the table, bringing with him the scent of sandalwood and mint. He settled back with his arms crossed, neither acknowledging Harry existed nor looking put out at having to sit next to him. 

“Right, well, I’ll let you get on with things then.” Ron stood and tossed a few coins onto the table to pay for his drink. “Nice chatting with you, Hooch. Lovely to see you again Cecily. Snape. I’ll floo you later, Harry.”

Harry, Rolanda, and Cecily said their good-byes. Severus flicked his wrist in Ron’s direction.

Cecily tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and held up a stack of papers. “I brought trip agendas.”

“Nope.” Rolanda lifted a hand to both stop Cecily and to gain a waiter’s attention. “No business until I have some food in front of me.”

“Right, right. Of course.” Cecily tucked her skirt against the back of her thighs as she sat down in the chair Ron had just vacated. She tapped the agendas against the table into a neat, ordered pile. 

Harry smiled. “I’d like to take a look at one.”

“Oh,” she said, perking up and handing one across to him. “There you are then.”

Harry thanked Cecily as Rosmerta herself appeared at the table. She propped one hand on the back of Severus’ chair. The two nodded a greeting at each other. Rosmerta gave Severus’ shoulder a quick squeeze and Harry’s fingers clenched against the parchment in his hand.

“What can I get for you lot?” Rosmerta asked, oblivious. “We got steak and kidney on special for the night. You want?”

“Sounds like just the ticket,” said Rolanda.

“All right. What about you, Potter?”

“Um.” Harry shook off the burst of emotion. Took a breath. Smiled up at Rosmerta and ordered. “Cottage pie.”

 Cecily added, “The soup of the day is fine, and a butter beer, please.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry jumped in. “Another butter beer would be great.” 

Severus sighed, dramatically. “I’ll have the cottage pie as well. And a water, please.”

Harry grinned at the side of Severus’ head, about to comment on them being like-minded, but Rosmerta smirked down at Severus’ upturned face and winked. “Way to live dangerously, Severus.”

Severus swatted her away and Harry’s grin fell. It made sense Severus would be friendly with Rosmerta. He’d known her since he was eleven, or maybe longer. Maybe his mum had brought him here when he was younger than that. Harry didn’t know. He didn’t know Severus at all. Harry pulled his nearly empty mug closer, ran a finger through the condensation circling the bottom.

“First,” Cecily began, handing around the rest of the agendas. “I just want to thank you all for chaperoning. Harry, Severus, I know you weren’t especially keen, but the kids really do love this trip.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” Harry said. “I probably would have loved it too, as a student. Might even have taken Muggle Studies if the camping thing had been part of the course back in the day.”

“Ugh.” Severus’ lip curled. “Only to have Albus compel me to go. What an awful thought.”

“Is that somehow different from the present day?” Rolanda asked, grinning. “When Minerva compels your participation instead?”

“My life is an endless parade of hardships and burdens, Hooch.”

Rolanda guffawed and Cecily chuckled nervously. Harry, having been one of those burdens, didn’t know how to respond. He instead looked down at the itinerary Cecily had given him. The dates were written across the top. Under that there was a packing list. Then, a list of tent assignments. Oh no…

“What the bloody hell is this?” Severus waved his copy of the schedule around. “Why does this say I’m sharing a tent with Potter?”

“Suck it up, Snape,” Rolanda said, watching the descent of her dinner plate to the table. “We’ve limited tents available. Everyone has to bunk up.”

“It won’t be a picnic for me either, you know,” Harry said. He’d be sharing a tent with Severus. Severus Snape. One of those cozy, little Muggle ones Ron had been excited about Harry squishing into with Cecily. He’d be squishing himself up against Severus Snape instead. Harry’s cheeks burned. “I mean, you probably snore.”

Severus’ dark eyes bored into Harry’s. “I do not snore.”

Harry twitched under the attention, caught in Severus’ heated gaze. Harry swallowed it down and said, “With that nose?”

“Shut up, Potter.” Severus tossed the paper into the center of the table. He picked up his fork and pointed the tines at Cecily. “I want my displeasure noted.”

“Oh,” Cecily glanced from Harry to Severus. “Alright, um, noted.”

“Ignore him, Cee,” Rolanda said. “Severus is all piss and vinegar, but he gets the job done at the end of the day. So does Potter, and he’s not a shiny sunbeam of light and cheer either.”

Harry’s brow wrinkled. “Oi, uncalled for.” 

They all tucked into their meals while the food was still hot. The mashed potatoes on his cottage pie had just the right amount of lumpiness, and the little onions and peas burst against his palate. The carrots were just this side of sweet and the gravy was thick and savory and it all hit Harry in the exact right way, making him moan his appreciation. 

Severus’ fork clattered against his plate. He turned a glare on Harry. 

“What?” Harry asked around his mouthful of food.  

“Eat quietly.”

Harry straightened his spine. He scooped up another bite of food and shoveled it in, scraping the tines of the fork against his teeth as he withdrew it. He groaned even louder. Leaning into Severus’ space, Harry said, “Mmmmm. So good.”

Severus pressed his lips into a firm line. He pushed away from the table and stomped off in the direction of the loos. Harry’s eyes followed Severus’ retreat. The black robes disappeared around the corner and Harry’s shoulders slumped. This was the exact sort of childish behavior Harry’d wanted to show he’d matured past.

Harry swirled his fork through a puddle of gravy. He traced his fingers over the words on his printed itinerary. Hiking, Campfires, Bird-Watching. Harry hatched a plan. This week of camping, in forced proximity, was Harry’s chance. He would prove he deserved a bit of Severus’ regard. By the end of the week, Severus would see that Harry Potter was worth knowing.

Chapter Text

Day One

In a flurry of wind and magic, the four chaperones and two dozen students arrived at a tree-lined clearing in Cornwall. Cecily, Rolanda, Severus, and Harry had spent the last hour shrinking supplies, apparating them to the site, enlarging them, and then returning to Hogwarts for more. Now, tents and tarps, food and water, sleeping bags, firewood, camp chairs, and on and on and on, were piled around the group.

Harry’d had no idea Muggles needed so much stuff for a simple camping trip. When he, Ron, and Hermione had been on the run the last year of the war, all they had had was Hermione’s magic bag. The amount of supplies Cecily had gathered reassured Harry that at least this experience wouldn’t be as bleak as that one. He kept this thought in mind as he reluctantly tucked his wand away beside the others in a lockbox for the week. Severus’ fingers clenched around his own ebony wand before placing it beside Harry’s. Harry wanted to give the man’s shoulder a consoling pat, but settled for a commiserating half-smile. 

Cecily pulled down the cloaking charm that had hidden their arrival from the Muggles camping nearby before adding her wand to the box. It was the last bit of magic the group would see for a week. Harry sighed and gave the clearing a proper look. Their campsite was nestled on the edge of a Muggle campground. Distant enough from the other campers that he couldn’t see the bright colors of their tents, but close enough that he caught the scent of grilled meat and campfire smoke. The big advantage of the Muggle grounds was the access to the wonders of modern plumbing: water spigots, showers, and toilets. He was grateful they wouldn’t be squatting behind bushes all week.

“Ok, students.” Cecily clapped her hands, waiting for their attention before continuing. “First things first, we’ll want to set up our campsite while we still have plenty of daylight. Grab a tent bag, a handful of stakes, and have at it. Keep in mind what we went over in class, yes?”

Harry’d never set up a proper tent in his life. He glanced at Severus. Severus sure didn’t seem like the type of person that had done it either. But Severus also didn’t seem like the type to wear jeans and he was definitely wearing a pair at this very moment. Wearing them quite well, actually. Severus had shown up for the trip in a pair of heavy black boots, worn-in jeans that hugged a surprisingly nice arse, and a waffle-weave thermal with a faded Berlin Potions Conference 1992 t-shirt layered over the top. He looked bloody spectacular, like a normal bloke out for a jaunt in the wilderness. 

Harry hoped it was more show than go. The last thing he wanted this week was for Severus to carry him through this trip. That went directly against the plan Harry had hobbled together. A plan that included voraciously studying an Idiot’s Guide to Camping in his free time over the last few days. 

Harry straightened his shoulders and approached Severus. “We need to find a flat spot for the tent and clear it of any debris, like rocks or tree branches.”

“Hm.” Severus kept his eyes on the students picking out their tents from the heap. “Thank Merlin you’re here, Potter. I never would have known not to erect my tent on a boulder without you.”

“I live to serve, Severus.” The man’s head swiveled in Harry’s direction, a dark eyebrow arched above an indifferent expression. Harry smiled. “I’ll go pick out a tent for us then.”

Harry grabbed the supplies they would need, ticking off the checklist in his mind. The Idiot’s Guide hadn’t made the process look too difficult. Click Part A into Part B. Pull this, secure that. Step One, Step Two, Step Three, and viola: tent.

Harry carried everything over to the site Severus had selected. A cozy spot along the tree line, far enough away from where the students were setting up that Harry and Severus would not be kept up at night by their inevitable antics, but close enough that they could still supervise and intervene, if needed. 

Severus kicked away branches and stones, bending down to dislodge a more stubborn one. The jeans hugged his hips, thighs, and bottom in such a normal way, hung-low but well-fitted. Nothing at all like the yards and yards of flowing fabric that usually covered him. It was like seeing a unicorn play Quidditch or something. Strange and wonderful and infinitely rare. He didn’t want to look away. Severus threw a stick at him, and, on instinct, Harry dodged left. Their eyes met and Harry dropped the supplies at his own feet, tripping forward over them to go help. 

When an acceptable, square-sized spot of grass was clear, Harry said, “We need to lay the tarp down where we want the tent. It’ll make the ground a bit softer and help keep out any rain or moisture.”

The skin around Severus’ eyes contracted, pinching into minute wrinkles. He scooped up the blue plastic tarp and unfolded it in a crash of crinkly noise, fluffing it out and spreading it on the grass. Together, they arranged the edges of the tent on top of the tarp and hammered it into the ground with tent pegs. Harry showed Severus how to twist the thin rods together and loop them through the holes that lined the sewn seams of the tent. Severus studied Harry’s hands, watching their movements intently before copying them. The attention made Harry’s heart thud against his sternum. His hands shook as he begged the universe to guide them through the correct motions. 

It must have listened because before long the tent popped into existence. It was much smaller than Harry’d expected. A peek into the entryway had Harry uncomfortably remembering his cupboard back at the Dursley’s. 

“Well,” Harry said, as they both stood before it. “It’s cozy.”

Severus’ mouth twitched and he grunted. 

“It’ll be warmer this way, at least. We should zip it up to keep the bugs out.”

Severus clicked his tongue and speedily leaned over to seal the tent up, tugging the zipper quickly through its arc of teeth. 

“Professor Potter.” Harry turned around to find Andrew Sutherland standing in front of him, tangled tent poles in hand. Sutherland continued, “Can you help us with our tent, sir?”

And that is how they spent the next hour. Going from campsite to campsite and helping the students construct and secure their tents. The students grabbed sleeping bags and disappeared inside their temporary homes to settle in and arrange their belongings. The professors met to assemble a kind of communal area with picnic tables, cooking gear, and orange coolers full of water. 

Cecily handed Harry and Severus metal water bottles with their names painted in white on the sides. She smiled and said, “It’s important to stay hydrated. We’ll need to remind the kids constantly.”

Severus pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unscrewed the lid, and placed the open end to the tap on the water cooler. The faded Dark Mark marred his forearm, a grey, unfocused smudge. Its edges bled into the delicate white skin around it. Harry tilted his head and traced it around, from skull to twisted snake and back up again. Severus caught Harry staring. His mouth pressed into a flat line and he shoved the sleeves down to his wrists. Harry averted his eyes. 

“So,” Cecily took a sip from her bottle. “Rolanda and I are on dinner duty tonight. Harry, Severus, you guys can handle the campfire and whatnot, yeah?”

“Course,” Harry said, higher and more earnest than he intended. He cleared his throat and added, “Easy as pie.”

Cecily smiled; Harry smiled back. Cecily’s cheeks went a bit pink. Harry’s eyes darted from one rosy patch of skin to the other. He went to push his glasses up his nose, remembered he no longer wore them, and diverted his hand to flatten his fringe instead. Severus made a phlegmy kind of noise right as Rolanda hoisted a second orange cooler on top of the table.

“Can never have enough water on these trips,” Rolanda said, dusting off her hands. 

“Um.” Cecily’s brow wrinkled and she shook her head. “We will need to see if we can find a few down hours for two of us to sneak off and set up the scavenger hunt.”

“No real rush on that,” Rolanda said. “I like how we closed out the trip with that event last year.” 

“It was nice.” Cecily looked at Severus and then quickly shifted over to Harry. “Usually, we start the trip with that, so the kids can get familiar with their surroundings, but it was raining last year.”

Harry nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets, and glanced at Severus. Severus picked at a thread on his shirt cuff. Harry straightened his back and said, “I am more than happy to help with anything. Whatever you need me to do.”

“That’s the spirit, Potter.” Rolanda was filling a strange little backpack with water. “You’ll have more fun if you properly embrace the thing.”

Cecily reached over to circle Harry’s forearm with her fingers. “I’m so happy you came, Harry.”

Harry stared at her hand on his skin and his brows drew together. The contrast between them was lovely; him, hairy and masculine, and her, silky smooth and feminine. He met her eyes and nodded, trying to convey a neutral acknowledgment. She withdrew her hand and Harry moved his gaze to Severus. 

Severus had a dark, faraway look in his eyes. It reminded Harry of Occlumency lessons in the cold dungeons of Hogwarts. If Severus was anybody else, if he was Ron or Hermione, Harry would nudge him with a shoulder, pull him out of whatever funk he was burrowing himself into. 

Severus wasn’t anybody else though. Not yet. By the end of this week, maybe, if things played out as Harry hoped, he could be someone that knew how to rescue Severus from his own thoughts. Someone Severus wanted pulling him from his thoughts. 

**********

Harry and Severus were crouched together, knees knocking and elbows tangling, as they finagled a campfire into existence. 

“Merlin,” Harry puffed out a breath and blew his fringe from his eyes. “I miss magic.”

“On that, Potter,” Severus fluffed the abandoned bird’s nest the kids had found to use as kindling, “We bloody agree.” He pulled his hands back. “Try again.”

“Eleventh times the charm, I guess.”

Harry scraped, scraped, scraped the fire starter over their dried, brittle little bundle. Severus craned his head and watched. The students ringed themselves around the fire pit and watched. Sweat broke out at Harry’s temples, across the small of his back, and under his arms as he too watched. Smoke gathered and clouded the space above the bird’s nest. Severus leaned over and blew on it, stoking it, trying to force the flame to catch. Or, so Harry hoped. That’s what he had read in the Idiot’s Guide on any account. 

A lock of Severus’ hair fell forward over his shoulder and Harry reached for it, visions of the man’s hair catching fire filling his head and pushing out rational thought. Harry pooled all of the man’s hair into a silky ponytail and held it. It was soft. Really soft. Harry rubbed a thumb over the thin strands.  

Severus straightened and brought Harry’s hand with him. He narrowed his eyes and shifted them between Harry’s fingers wrapped around his hair and Harry’s reddening face. 

“Sorry,” Harry said and released his hair. “I didn’t want it to catch fire.”

“That won’t be an issue.” Severus swept his hands in the direction of the smoky but not at all flaming campfire pit. “This is clearly not working.”

“Blast.” Harry sighed. “Let’s go again, yeah.”

Severus nodded, his lips pressed together in a determined way. “This time I will utilize the scraping device there, and you will blow for me.”

Harry chuckled, and so did a few of the students around them.

Severus stared them all down. 

Harry pressed his palm against his mouth, wiped away his smile, and said, “It looked so much easier in the book.”

“The theory seems sound enough.” Severus held the metal fire starter in one hand and the scraper in his other hand. He looked from one to the other and murmured, “Why on earth didn’t that girl just bring a lighter?”

“Right?” Harry said, conspiratorially, leaning in, matching Severus’ low voice. “Bloody ridiculous.”

“Professor Brunswork likes for us to learn new ways of doing things,” Abigail Hollingseed, a Ravenclaw girl, said. “You don’t appreciate things that come too easily. That’s the whole point of the trip.”

“Oh. That’s a great lesson.” Harry grimaced and met Severus’ eyes. He bit his lip to keep from laughing at the annoyed expression on Severus’ face.  

Severus scraped the sharp edge down the fire starter, feeling the device out and sending sparks flying uselessly about. He bent down to apply his new skill to the dormant pile. Before they’d started, he and Severus had sent the kids off to find the various bits of twigs and kindling they needed. Cecily had brought firewood, but only the big logs they’d need once the fire was going. Those logs were waiting off to the side, probably judging them. 

Severus pressed the fire starter into the dry kindling and scraped. And scraped. 

Sparks caught and Harry bent over to blow life into the budding flames. Smoke billowed around him, burning his nostrils and making his eyes water. 

“Come on, come on,” Severus said through his teeth over Harry’s shoulder. 

“Professor Potter, Professor Potter, Professor Potter,” the students chanted. 

He appreciated their encouragement. Hoped he could live up to all their expectations. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, needing to keep the sting of the smoke out, desperate to be the one that got the fire going for Severus. For the kids. 

The students whooped and hollered and Severus pulled Harry’s head from the now engulfed pile of bird’s nest, leaves, and sticks. 

Harry sat back on his heels, looked at the flickering flames of their campfire. He brushed moisture from his eyes, swiped his knuckles against his nostrils, and said, “Oh, thank Merlin.” 

Severus poked and prodded and stoked the fire higher and higher. Heat radiated out in lovely, rolling waves. Harry’s muscles unwound as he sunk into the feeling.

A bell rung out as Rolanda called out, “Dinner!”

The students raced away from the fire pit and towards the picnic area. Harry and Severus stayed knelt by their fire, shoulder to shoulder. Harry wasn’t ready to abandon the manifestation of their mutual accomplishment just yet. He wasn’t done appreciating it in all its, truly beautiful,  fiery glory.

Eventually, Severus pushed himself to his feet and Harry followed. Dinner did smell good, and Harry was starving from all of the unpacking, setting up of camp, and maintaining his positive, ‘I-got-this’ attitude. He wanted to fill his face with food, drink a beer by the fire, and then pass out in his tent. 

With Severus. 

Harry blew out a breath as he joined the end of the queue for dinner. Cecily, Rolanda, and some of the students had grilled hamburgers. Harry planned to eat a dozen of them. With cheese and tomatoes and onions, smothered in ketchup. There was also various crisps and apple slices, but Harry didn’t look twice at them. He fixed up two hamburgers on his plate. Beer, unfortunately, was not an option. Harry refilled his water bottle instead before finding the last empty picnic table. 

He’d taken an ambitious bite, juice dripping from the corner of his mouth, when Severus walked up to his table with a pinched expression. He placed his plate, one plain burger and a handful of apple slices, down across from Harry. Harry supposed it was either join Harry or a gaggle of students. Harry swallowed and smiled at him. Severus sighed and sat down. 

Cecily and Rolanda joined them after they’d served the last of the students. Dinner was loud and raucous and delicious. Harry only ended up eating the two burgers, especially after Cecily said they’d be having s’mores around the campfire that night. Harry’d never had one before, but they sounded tasty and he wanted room in his stomach for a couple of them. 

Once the sun had set, the air cooled considerably. Harry went back to their tent to grab his jumper before he joined everyone else at the campfire. They’d set up foldable camp chairs in concentric rings around the pit. Severus had set his chair up close to the fire. He had his hands tucked into his armpits and was bent forward towards the fire. 

Harry pulled a chair up next to him and plopped down. “You cold?”

“I’m fine, Potter,” he said, but Harry could see a fine tremble snaking down his arms. 

“We can scooch closer to the fire.”

“We?”

Harry tilted his head in an unimpressed way. “We are in this torture together, Severus.”

Cecily clapped her hands to gain their attention. “Alright, you lot. The time for roasting marshmallows has come!”

The students cheered and clapped. Even Harry couldn’t help grinning in anticipation. 

Cecily showed them all how to shove the marshmallows onto the end of a stick and hold it over the fire at the perfect distance, ensuring it went all soft and gooey and not charred to a crisp. Then, she sandwiched it between a bit of chocolate and two graham crackers. 

“That seems easy enough.” Harry rubbed his hands together and stood up. “You coming?”

Severus nestled back into his chair, tucking himself tightly away as everyone swarmed around him and gathered about the fire with their sticks. “Of course not.”

“You want me to make one for you? Might warm you up.”

“No.” Severus really knew how to emphasize a single syllable. 

“Alright. If you’re sure.”

Harry bustled over to the pile of roasting sticks, picking a nice long one. Cecily came over and held open the bag of marshmallows. “Here you go, Harry.”

He said, “Thanks,” with a smile as he reached in for one.

“Are you having fun so far?”

Harry jammed the sweet into the end of his stick and shrugged. “Yeah. It’s only the first day, but yeah.”

Cecily smiled and continued to look at him expectantly. 

Harry darted a look down to his marshmallow. “Okay, well, I’m gonna just go roast this now.”

She pointed to a little table. “The chocolate and crackers are over there.”

“I know. I saw when you showed everyone.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

Harry’s marshmallow ended up burnt and crispy, but so did most people’s. He layered it awkwardly between the layers of chocolate and crackers, coming close to dropping it into the dirt. He carried it back over to Severus and sat down.

“Look.” He held it up for Severus to see. 

Severus arched a brow and watched Harry take his first bite. Hot and gooey and, “Oh god,” so good. He knew if he looked over, he’d see Severus’ disgusted expression. Harry could feel the sticky remnants of the marshmallow gluing his mouth together at the corners, felt the melted chocolate warm on his lips. He didn’t even care. It tasted too fabulous. He took another bite. 

“Severus, you are missing out.”

Harry popped the last bite into his mouth. Severus hadn’t responded so he glanced over at him. He found Severus staring at his mouth with a strange light in his eyes. 

“I know,” Harry said, wiping uselessly at his lips and chin. “They are terribly messy, but I swear they are crazy good. I am going to make you one.”

Severus didn’t object so Harry scurried off to make two more. The process was much easier the second and third time around. Harry roasted, smooshed, and returned quickly with two more gooey handfuls.

He passed one over to Severus, who took it silently. Harry bit into the other one with a groan of delight. His second one disappeared in a blink and he turned to see if Severus had enjoyed his. 

Harry narrowed his eyes at the completely intact s’more still pinched between Severus’ fingers. “You aren’t even going to try it?”

Without a word, Severus stretched his arm out to pass the s’more back to Harry. 

“Fine.” Harry grabbed it. “If you are sure?” Once Severus nodded his consent, Harry dove in. Around a mouthful of chocolate and marshmallow, he said, “Your loss, my friend.”

Severus watched the s’more messily disappear into Harry’s mouth. He said, lowly, “You have chocolate on your fingers.”

“Oh.” Harry stuck his fingers into his mouth, one by one, and sucked the chocolate off. 

Severus watched that too, his brow gathering and his tongue licking across his bottom lip. Harry shrugged the expression off. If he wanted some, he should have just eaten the s’more Harry gave him.

**********

The inside of the sleeping bags Cecily provided were rough and scratchy. Severus had shuffled himself into his and immediately clicked his tongue, griped and groaned and crawled right back out again. 

Harry floated the idea of turning them inside out, but the outsides were made of a slippery waterproof material that stuck uncomfortably to Harry’s skin. 

Severus scrubbed at his face with both hands. He growled and unzipped his suitcase, pulling out a forrest green jumper and a thick, quilted blanket. Harry, sat on top of his rumpled sleeping bag, watched as Severus pulled the jumper on over his sleeping clothes (soft-looking flannels and a long-sleeved shirt), then unzipped the sleeping bag and spread it on the floor of the tent, as much as he could in the tight quarters. It gathered and curled against the tent on one side and Harry’s sleeping bag on the other. Finally, Severus cocooned himself in the blanket he’d brought and laid down.  

All of this without saying a word to Harry. 

Harry wished he’d thought to bring a blanket. It wasn’t freezing or anything, but it was chilly. He put on his own jumper and pulled the hood up. If he kept as much of his skin covered as possible, maybe the rough fabric of the sleeping bag wouldn’t grate against his skin so badly.

Harry turned on his side and settled in for the night. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. 

And then Severus snored. A deep, rattling inhale and a sigh of an exhale. 

Harry opened his eyes and searched for Severus’ profile in the dark confines of their tent. 

Severus had fallen asleep on his back. The sharp jut of his nose was dark against the moonlight wall of the tent. His mouth was slack, his lips parted slightly. Harry carefully, slowly pushed himself up onto an elbow and gazed down at the man beside him. This was the closest he’d ever been to Severus. He looked so peaceful in sleep, his face smooth and unlined, his mouth soft and full. 

Harry had to squash the urge to touch him. He wanted to run a finger along his stubbled jawline, brush his thumb across Severus’ lips. Feel the warm breath against the pad of his finger. Severus’ jumper had bunched around his neck and tangled with his dark hair. Even that looked soft and cuddly. Harry wanted to bury his face against it. 

And that was another thing, Severus smelled amazing. The campsite bathroom included shower stalls and Severus had been first in line after the campfire crowd dwindled and wandered off to their tents. His soap smelled of something dark and sweet and earthy. Harry closed his eyes and breathed it in. It set his bloody nerves on fire. Muscles tightened low in Harry’s gut and his cock twitched. 

Harry’s eyes flew open. 

He’d leant right over Severus, was a hair’s breadth away from fulfilling his dream of burying his face in the crook of the man’s throat. 

Harry pulled back. All the way back. As far back as he could go in this, really, far-too-small-for-two-adult-men tent. 

Another snore rattled out of Severus. His chest rising and falling with it. 

Harry laid his head back down against his pillow and breathed. His eyes trailed up and down the body next to him. Severus. Severus Snape. The solid, very real body of Severus Snape. Harry had always been drawn to him, since that first day seventeen years ago. The why and how of that draw had changed and shifted over the years, but he’d always been awed by his strength and power and control. After the war, Harry was overwhelmed by the depths of his bravery. Lately, he’d been charmed by the git’s snarky humor, his insouciance. The grace of his movements, the lithe length of his body…Harry’d be lying if he didn’t admit watching the man move sparked something in him. Bloody hell, he liked watching him. 

His teeth were still crooked, and his nose was too big, but those things were a part of Severus. And he was so much more than his handful of physical flaws. They paled and faded in comparison to everything else that he was. Merlin, Harry was attracted to him. He wanted to touch him and hold him. He wanted to know him. He wanted Severus to know him. 

The want burned a path beneath his skin, flooding him, overtaking him. How long had it been simmering away there in his subconscious? Is that why he’d wanted to gain his attention this week? Did he want to impress and befriend Severus so he could make a clumsy pass at him?

He did.

Christ. 

He saw it now. He wanted to make Severus want him. He wanted Severus to want to know him as badly, as deeply as Harry wanted to know every little thing about Severus. What the man thought, what made him laugh, what he liked to eat, to drink. What were his deepest desires. His biggest regrets. Had he ever had a pet. Did he like teaching at Hogwarts. What was his favorite holiday. Every innocuous thing under the sun. 

And the big things too. The things that swallowed him up on dark nights. The things that light a fire in him. The things that thrilled him and made him happy. 

Harry wanted to know what made Severus tick, and he wanted him to tick in Harry’s direction. 

 What a brilliant time for this revelation. While they were stuck in the woods together for a week. Harry groaned and tucked himself into a ball inside his sleeping bag.

Chapter Text

Day Two

Warmth cradled Harry’s body. It wrapped around him, sunk through skin and muscle, and settled into his bones. He wiggled, burrowing more deeply into the lovely comfort of it. The warmth nestled him back, looping its tendrils around Harry’s belly and pulling him in. It tucked itself over his shins and tangled its feet with his. Harry turned his head and his nose buried itself in silk soft hair that smelled of campfire and herbal shampoo. Harry wanted to hug the warmth back, to pull it impossibly closer against him, but his arms were trapped inside the confines of his sleeping bag, pinned to his sides by the firm weight of another body. 

Harry’s eyes blinked open, took in the blurry roof of their tent. 

Their tent.

Harry shifted his gaze down to the head of dark hair resting against him, then over to the now empty other half of the tent. He lifted his head, slowly, carefully, not wanting to disturb the man, and looked down the length of their bodies. Harry was on his back, still safely ensconced inside his sleeping bag. Severus could not blame him for what was happening. Severus was the one on his side of the tent, the one pressed against Harry. It was his arms curled around Harry’s middle, his legs snaked around Harry’s. 

Harry laid his head back down against his pillow. Severus mumbled softly into the hollow of Harry’s throat. The heated puff of his breath whispered across delicate skin. Sent a crest of want cascading over Harry’s nerves, heating his blood and sending it rushing southward. Harry’d woken up half-hard, but this new wave of desire had his prick filling so quickly he had to close his eyes against the dizzying spin of blood loss. 

Harry arched his head back to stifle a mounting groan crawling up from his gut. Severus tucked his face against Harry’s now open throat, his lips brushing warm and damp against Harry’s pulse point, and the sound broke from Harry’s throat, desperate and panicked. 

Harry stilled, as much as was possible with his breath coming in shallow pants and his heart racing away inside his chest, afraid he’d woken Severus, but the man remained loose and pliant against him. 

Harry needed to escape. 

He swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed tightly against the long muscles of his throat. He started with the arm not pressed against Severus, shifting and squirming until he had it free. He lowered the zipper of the sleeping bag bit by bit until he could get one foot out. He nuzzled the dark head one last time, inhaling Severus sleep-warm scent, before shimming his way out of the man’s arms. 

In the tight space left to him, Harry rolled and pushed up to his hands and knees. 

Severus’ brows drew together and he made an unhappy little whimpering sound. He pulled Harry’s pillow into his arms and sighed back into his soft sprawl across Harry’s sleeping space. 

Harry’s mouth tugged up in a half-smile. He wanted to run a hand through the tangle of dark hair hiding Severus’ face, tuck it back behind the gentle curve of his pale ear. 

Harry hung his head and exhaled. He had to it bad. He scooted backwards towards the exit, grabbing his toiletry bag and a change of clothes along the way. How long had these feelings been bubbling beneath the surface of his consciousness? This couldn’t be new. The man was passed out, drooling and snoring lightly against his pillow, and Harry was waxing poetic about the whorl of his ear. As though he’d known and loved the shape of the man for ages. 

Harry unzipped the door flap and slipped outside. He straightened and zipped it shut again, securing the man snuggly back into the warmth of their tent. Harry paused for a minute to listen, to be sure his escape had not woken the man up. It didn’t seem so. All within was quiet. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, closed his eyes, and pushed it all to the farthest recesses of his mind. He turned towards the loos to get himself ready. He had a long day of wrestling his new found crush on Severus Snape into submission.

**********

Harry needn’t have worried so much about being quiet. As it turned out, Severus slept like the dead. The whole camp had shuffled itself awake, Harry’d returned his toiletry bag and sleep clothes to the tent, the children had chattered and giggled and fought over their turns in the two shower stalls, Rolanda and Cecily had prepared eggs and bacon, the birds had twittered and sang, the crickets chirped and cheeped, and Severus had slept on and on and on…and on.

The students set about cleaning up breakfast as he, Rolanda, and Cecily put together a line of meats, cheeses, bread, granola bars, crisps, and fruit for them all to use to pack sack lunches for the hike that day. Since Severus still hadn’t roused himself from their tent, Harry went ahead and put together a lunch for Severus as well as himself. 

Once they’d sent the kids off to lace up their boots and prepare their backpacks for the day, Harry knew he’d have to wake Severus up. He straightened his spine, rolled his shoulders back, and went for it. He couldn’t quite believe it when he opened the tent to find the man still sleeping, his limbs akimbo and his lips parted on a raspy snore. He’d suspected the man of faking it, of wanting only to avoid them all this morning, but Harry had to say his name several times plus jiggle his foot before Severus rumbled his way back to the land of the living. Severus blinked awake, grumbling and groaning and claiming he usually set an alarm with his wand. His brow furrowed as he looked down at Harry’s pillow beneath him and then over to his abandoned pillow behind him. Severus didn’t say a word about it though so Harry didn’t either.

Now, Harry forced a grin from his face as Severus blearily lined up for the day’s hike with a paper cup of coffee in his long-fingered grip. He looked rumpled and disheveled and only half-awake. Harry sidled up beside him, holding out a granola bar. Severus glared first at the offering and then at Harry. Harry shrugged and said, “You missed breakfast.” 

Severus curled his lip and grunted. 

“You’ll need energy for the hike.” Harry waggled it under his nose. “Unless you want me carrying you after you pass out.”

“I will not pass out.” Severus sneered his way through the last two words, his voice still scratchy with sleep. Severus snatched the granola bar. Mockingly, he added, “Carry me.” He ripped open the wrapper. “You’re the size of a crup.”

Harry arched an eyebrow and did a couple half-squats. “I have strong thighs. From years of Quidditch.” Severus made a disgusted face as he watched Harry and ate his breakfast in two bites. “You’re tall and skinny. I’d hoist you over my shoulders,” Harry mimed his words, “the old fireman carry.” 

Severus blinked, chewed. Narrowed his eyes.

“All right, you lot,” Rolanda called out from the front of the line. “We’ve got a bit less than two hours of hiking ahead of us. Once we arrive, we’ll eat our lunch, then spend the afternoon fishing at the lake up there. Who’s ready?”

The students cheered and lifted their fishing rods up into the air. Harry’d finagled his rod into his backpack; it was currently sticking up into the air over his head. Severus didn’t appear to have a rod, but no matter. If Severus didn’t spend time fishing himself, Harry had more opportunity to impress the man with his own skill. Not that Harry’d ever fished, but The Idiot’s Guide to Camping made it seem simple enough. He only had to drop the hook end into the water and wait. How hard could it be?

Rolanda and Cecily led them to a trail not too far from their camp. It wasn’t a difficult hike. The trail was well-marked and wide. Carved into the side of a hill, one edge of it rounded upward while the other sloped downward. Dramatically so in some places. Harry peeked over one such rocky cliff. It disappeared down into a dark tangle of wilderness and brush. Hopefully, no one tripped and ended up tumbling over the side. That’d be a disaster. Kids were prone to disaster though. Harry was prone to disaster. He stepped back from the edge. 

Instead, he took in the wider view. Harry could see the coast at this new elevation. The water was blue, white-tipped from the surf. Cecily had said there was a little cove nearby with water warm enough they could take the students for some swimming and sunbathing. That was on the docket for later in the week.  

The sun climbed higher and higher as they walked. Sweat pooled against the small of Harry’s back, trickled a path down toward the waistband of his jeans. After about a half hour, Harry stopped to pull off a layer of clothing, leaving him in a simple t-shirt. Most of the kids followed suit, removing jumpers, hoodies, thermals and shoving them into their packs. As they slowed to undress, Cecily took the chance to shout out, “Remember to drink water!” 

Severus huffed, but did, in fact, bring out a water bottle and take a couple sips from it. When he was done, Severus yanked off his sweater, leaving him in a clean, tight, black shirt. There wasn’t a patch of sweat anywhere on him. Not a single bead of perspiration marred his skin. All that pale, pale, pale skin remained just that: pale. Harry’d imagined the man would turn into a tomato in the sun. Or, if rumors were to be believed, burst into flames. Harry smiled, small and private, and brought his own water bottle to his lips. 

They arrived at the lake before too long. It was small and more green than blue. A wooden dock stretched along one side, jutting out over the water. The shoreline was rocky and circled with sporadic groupings of boulders. The students dropped their backpacks and fishing rods. They pulled out their sack lunches and sat down on the bigger boulders to eat. 

Severus perched his bum on a boulder a decent distance away from the kids and crossed his legs at the ankles. Harry let his pack fall to the ground next to Severus’ boulder. Severus looked at it, exhaled a breathy sigh, and shifted his gaze out to the lake. “I am aware Professor Brunswork is utilizing the ‘buddy system’ with the children, but I am, in fact, not a child, Potter, and you are not my buddy.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to eat lunch with me?”

“Feel free to assume that I never want to do anything with you.”

Harry bent over and unzipped his bag. He pulled out two brown paper bags. “But I packed food for you and everything.”

Severus eyed the bag with pursed lips. 

“It’s got a sandwich in it. Ham and cheese with a bit of mustard. Vinegar crisps. A banana.”

Severus grabbed it and Harry grinned. He dusted a couple leaves off the boulder across from Severus’ and settled down, pulling his legs up and sitting criss-cross. Severus rummaged around in his paper bag and pulled out the sandwich.

Harry asked, “Did I pick out the right crisps? I’ll trade you if you don’t care for them. I’ve got plain ones here in my bag.”

“Salt and vinegar is fine.” 

“I thought you’d like them. You seem like a salt and vinegar man.”

Severus shot him an unamused look and unwrapped his sandwich. He held up a triangle half, pinched between two fingers, and clicked his tongue. 

Harry’s cheeks went warm and he shook his head. “Do you not like the diagonal cut? Should I have cut it into rectangles?”

“As a grown adult, I find I don’t need my sandwich cut in half at all anymore.” 

Severus glared at the sandwich before he took a bite. Harry opened his crisps and watched Severus eat the rest of the triangle in another four quick bites. The hike hadn’t been particularly strenuous, but Harry’d certainly worked his breakfast off. Severus must be starving with only a granola bar in his stomach. Severus dug into the other half of his sandwich and something warmed in Harry’s gut. He resisted the urge to hand over his own sandwich to Severus; Harry popped a crisp into his mouth instead. 

After Severus had made his way through the rest of his sandwich, the banana, and half his crisps, Harry asked, “Have you ever fished before?”

Severus swallowed and flicked a crumb from his jeans before answering, “Of course.”

“You didn’t bring a fishing rod.” Harry gestured towards their bags with half his banana. “Did you forget yours? Oh, was it because you overslept?”

“I did not oversleep.” Severus shifted in his seat and uncrossed his legs, planting them firmly on the ground. “I’m here to supervise the children, not join in with them.”

“You absolutely overslept.” Harry took a bite of his banana. “You were snoring. Everyone was up, fed, and dressed before you even peeled your eyelids apart.”

Severus’ lips pinched together and he shoved the remnants of his lunch back into the bag.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m jealous. Wish I could sleep like that.”

Severus wrinkled his nose. “I am not embarrassed.”

“Good.” Harry tucked his empty banana peel around itself. “I sleep like shite.”

Severus’ tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth. He inhaled and said, “I—”

“Hello, boys.” Cecily appeared out of nowhere, jiggling the open end of a bin bag at them. “Have any rubbish?” 

Harry and Severus tossed their lunch leftovers into the bag. Cecily closed the bag and dropped down next to Harry on his boulder with a smile. She had her hair woven into two thick plaits on the sides of her head. Harry leaned closer and sniffed. “How do you still smell so nice after hiking for two hours?”

“Oh.” Her cheeks went pink. “Good deodorant?”

Severus said, “You’ve not been sneaking your wand out for a little freshening up charm, have you?”

“Of course not.” 

Harry licked his lips. “You smell sweet. Like biscuits or something.”

Severus clicked his tongue. Harry turned his head and caught the man rolling his eyes as well. Harry looked back at Cecily with a smile. He could go for a biscuit or two if she was smuggling some. 

“Um.” Cecily toyed with the end of one plait. “Are you ready for some fishing?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve never actually fished before, but how hard could it be?”

“I’m sure you’ll pick it up quick enough.”

Harry nodded. “And Severus has fished before, he just said. I can always ask him for help.”

Harry caught Severus’ gaze and smiled at him, encouragingly. Severus’ eyes darted over to Cecily, then skipped past Harry to move out to the lake, glazed over with disinterest. Harry’s shoulders slumped. This morning, Severus warm and docile and curled around him, felt far, far away. As did Harry’s goal of charming Severus into a simple friendship. His ridiculous crush struck him as particularly absurd, almost shameful. He twitched his lips into a kind of smile once more for Cecily’s sake, then looked down at his hands fisted in his lap.

After the students had eaten, Cecily and Rolanda gathered them up by the shore with their rods in hand to give them a quick lesson on fishing. Some of the kids were a bit squeamish about baiting a hook, but it wasn’t so different from some of the things they’d been forced to do in Potions or Herbology class. Rolanda demonstrated casting a line and reeling in a catch. It aligned with what Harry had read in his book. He and the other professors walked up and down the row of students, making sure they had the hang of it before letting them have at it for the afternoon. 

The sun was properly up now, sitting high in the sky and beating down on them, even through the tree cover. Harry took up a spot at the end of the students with his own fishing rod. He prepped his hook as Severus settled into a spot close behind him on a low boulder, legs neatly crossed and his fingers laced together over his knee cap.  

“Do you want to take turns with the rod?” Harry offered. 

Severus tucked his hair behind his ears. The ends curled against the pink scars on his throat. He shook his head and said, “No.”

Harry hadn’t thought Severus would. He sighed and turned back to his task. He cast, just as he’d been shown, and waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Cheers went up each time one of the students reeled in a fish. Rolanda caught five, Cecily two, and Harry was still standing there empty-handed. He could feel Severus’ eyes on him, judging him. Unable to accomplish such a simple task as this. 

Sweat beaded across Harry’s forehead. It dripped into his eyes. He reeled his line back in and juggled the rod into the crook of his arm. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe his face. His shirt had been clinging to the damp skin of his lower back, but it curled and peeled away as he tugged up the front side. The cool air on his bare skin was absolutely glorious. 

He let his rod fall to the ground with a groan. He clutched the edge of his shift and wafted it up and down and away from his skin. The Hufflepuffs next to him giggled. Harry turned away from the students and faced Severus. The man averted his eyes. His cheeks were bright red. Harry paused then continued. Severus blinked several times in a row. Harry pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and lowered his shirt, smoothing it out against his skin. Had Severus been checking him out? His stomach flipped over at the thought. 

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m not having any luck.” Severus crossed his arms and looked back around at Harry.  Harry took a couple steps towards him. “I suppose it’s a good thing—” 

Harry pitched forward. His toe caught against a rock. His hands flew outward, aiming to catch himself before he could hit the ground, but wound up clutching onto two broad shoulders instead. Long fingers dug into his hips, holding him firmly at arms’ length. He was nose to nose with Severus, eye to eye. Harry could smell his vinegar-y breath and see that his eyes were a smooth brown. Harry watched, fascinated, as Severus’ pupil dilated and flooded out the coffee color with pure darkness. 

“Severus—”

“Whoa there, Potter!” Rolanda called out and laughed. Her laughter was echoed by the students. “Walk much, son!”

Severus’ eyes snapped shut. He pushed Harry off of him. Harry tumbled to the ground, landing on a hip and an elbow. The gravel buried itself into his flesh and made him ache. It was a gentler landing than the original one would have been, but it was infinitely more painful. 

**********

The shower stall filled with a steamy, soap-scented fog. Harry couldn’t believe there was enough hot water left for him after the students and other professors had showered. Shocked, but so very grateful, he tipped his head back to rinse the shampoo from his hair. 

The camp was quiet tonight with everyone worn out from a day of hiking and fishing. They’d returned to the site in time for dinner, right as the sun began to kiss the horizon line. After cooking and clean up, the students cloistered themselves away in their tents. Harry suspected they wanted to chat and socialize away from their professors’ supervision. It’s what he would have done at thirteen.

And speaking of things Harry liked to do at thirteen. If he wanted to make it through the night without molesting Severus in his sleep, he’d need to handle a few things here in the privacy of the shower stall. 

Harry ran the tips of his fingers up and down his stomach, over the twitching muscles, slick with soap and water. He circled his nipples with his thumbs, brushed over the pebbled surface. Merlin, Severus had been in this shower not even an hour ago, naked and wet. Maybe he’d felt the need to have a wank too. Severus probably had a lovely cock, thick and long and a rosy pink color. 

One hand splayed against the moldy, cracked tiles of the shower stall, Harry held himself up as his other hand worked along the hard length of his own prick. He circled the head with the pad of his thumb, dipped into the sensitive hollow of the slit, then fisted himself fast and rough. 

Harry’d love to press Severus against this shower wall. Kiss the grumpy line of his mouth until it was pliant and swollen. He’d suck Severus off, make him beg and whimper and unravel, have him come against him tongue. 

Harry’s orgasm hit bright and quick and not nearly enough. He cradled his forehead in the crook of his arm while he caught his breath, while his heartbeat returned to normal. It didn’t take too long. 

He cleaned himself up all over again, and then the shower wall and floor. He dried himself off and dressed in his flannel sleep bottoms and a fresh shirt. He scrubbed the towel over his hair one last time before gathering his toiletries and such back up. 

The path back to the tents was lit with moonlight. The campgrounds had added lamps here and there, just enough to guide camper’s feet without obscuring the stars. Moths and mosquitos flitted and buzzed around the yellow light. The tents flickered with light too, as the students waved their torches around. Their whispered conversations and half-stifled laughter drifted up, making Harry nostalgic for his student days at Hogwarts. 

Cecily waved at Harry from where she and Rolanda were playing cards at one of the picnic tables. Harry returned the wave. It would probably be safer for him to try to join them, less torturous than curling up next to a man that literally tossed Harry over today, but he could have sworn, right before that happened, that he’d seen something in Severus’ eyes. 

Heat. Interest of some kind.

Severus would be exactly the type to push away someone instead of drawing them in. Harry might just have projected what he wanted to see there on Severus’ face, wished fantasy into reality, but he didn’t want to dismiss the potential, if it existed, however small. 

Harry crawled into the tent, put all of his things away, and nestled down into his sleeping bag. The scent of Severus’ soap lingered in the air. Harry propped his head up on a hand and let himself look at Severus. Harry bit his bottom lip and tried not to smile too widely, too foolishly. Severus was sprawled out on his back, an arm curled over the top of his head and the other clutching his sleep shirt over his heart. His hair was a blue, shadowy fan against his pillow. His face was soft and open with his lips parted. He had thick eyebrows, but they were shapely and sharp, as though they’d been groomed. Harry ached to run a thumb over them, to feel the gentle give of the hair. 

Severus’ breath caught and he whimpered, lines wrinkled the bridge of his nose. He turned towards Harry, eyes still closed, and curled in on himself. A hand crept into the space between them, fingers brushing the edge of Harry’s sleeping bag. He snuffled, burrowed into his pillow, and went still again. 

He looked so vulnerable. He looked beautiful. 

Harry didn’t close his eyes for a long time. 

Chapter Text

Day Three

Harry’s nose twitched against Severus’ dark hair, the stray flyways tickling at the sensitive skin lining his nostrils. Harry nuzzled his way into the silky soft strands and inhaled, quietly, covertly, before relaxing back down into his pillow. Severus smelled like lemon and lavender, sweet and herbal, not at all the soap younger Harry would have imagined the man indulging in. Harry shifted, settled, closed his eyes. Severus shifted with him, snuffled against his neck, and tightened his hold around Harry’s middle. Harry could become addicted to waking up like this. He feared he already was.

Not that he didn’t feel guilty about taking advantage of Severus’ habit. There was no way the man consciously decided to travel across the tent each night to wrap himself around Harry, a person he barely tolerated in the daylight. Harry couldn’t believe Severus didn’t wake at all. But, as mystifying as it was, Severus slept like the dead.

Harry woke though. He’d woke as a hand burrowed its way into the unzipped side of his sleeping bag. His breathing had kicked up at the first delicate twitch of fingers against his side. He’d squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a moan as those fingers slid under his shirt, across his belly, and curved around his hipbone. Severus had hooked a leg over Harry’s thighs, pinning him in place, giving Harry no choice but to drift back off to sleep cradled by Severus’ body. 

Now, here they were, morning dawning outside their tent. Severus pliant and warm and, honestly, bloody precious in his arms. Harry, charmed and content, brushed a cheek against Severus’ temple. Severus’ fingers curled and uncurled, gently, against Harry’s side, nails tracing goose pimples into his skin. Harry shivered, hard, and a whimper broke from Severus’ lips. Severus pressed impossibly closer. His breath puffed, hot and humid, against the pulse point in Harry’s throat. Harry untangled a hand, lifting it to card his fingers through Severus’ hair, quieting him. The hair was so fine, so soft, it flowed and fell over Harry’s knuckles like water. 

God, Harry wanted. He wanted to roll his body on top of Severus’. He wanted to run his hands up and down his long arms and legs, across the flat plains of his chest and belly. To taste the salty sweetness of his skin. He wanted to trace the fluttery pulse at his wrist, his scarred throat. Press a kiss to the strong heartbeat beneath his sternum. Harry wanted to take Severus’ hands in his. He wanted to bring the man’s tapered fingers to his lips, to feel the cool skin against his own.  

He couldn’t though, of course. Severus would not be pleased if he knew this was happening. He would definitely not be interested in Harry’s sexual advances. To Severus, Harry Potter would always be a child, a nuisance. A burden left to him, first, by Lily Evans, and then again by Albus Dumbledore. Two larger than life, pedestal figures that Harry had no hope of competing with, especially in the mind of someone as impressive as Severus Snape. Harry was a peon in the midst of those three. No matter how much Harry wished it. He had very little hope of ever charming, let alone seducing, a man like Severus. Not that Harry was giving up. Not yet.

Harry inhaled. Closed his eyes. Let Severus’ weight press him into the ground. Soaked in this wondrous, warm, endearing moment. He exhaled, opened his eyes, wiggled his hips sideways, until his lower body was no longer under Severus’ lanky leg. He slid left, until his body met the tent wall, curving it outward. Severus groaned, clutched for the lost heat of Harry’s body. Harry dodged him, propping himself up on an elbow. Giving up, Severus curled into himself, rolling onto his stomach, completely on top of Harry’s abandoned sleeping bag.

“Severus.”

Nothing.

“Severus, it’s time to get up. We’re on breakfast duty.” 

The sharp edge of Severus’ shoulder blade cut across his back, lifting and falling as he slept on. It begged to be traced by able fingers, kissed by soft lips. Harry reached out, his hand hovered, trembled. He pulled it back. 

“Severus,” he said, raising his voice. “Severus Snape.”

Severus’ brow creased and his nose wrinkled. He pressed a grumbly noise into Harry’s pillow. He looked unreasonably adorable, like Rosie waking up from an afternoon nap.

“You are not having another lie-in. Not while I cook for the entire camp site.” Harry glanced at the tent door, the sunrise casting dark shadows against the fabric, and then back down at Severus. He reached out again, clenched and unclenched his fist, genuinely worried that if he placed even a single finger on Severus’ sleeping form he wouldn’t be able to stop touching him. “Wake up, you bloody git.”

His tone was sharper than he intended, and the one eye Severus had visible over the fluff of pillow popped open. It focused on Harry, then on the tent wall Harry was pressed against, and finally down to the hair’s breadth of space between the two of them. His cheeks pinked up as he rolled to his back, shuffled himself back over to his own nest of blankets. 

Encouraged by the hint of Severus’ conscious humanity, Harry cleared his throat of the urge to assuage Severus’ embarrassment. “We have to prepare breakfast this morning, remember? It’s our—”

“Yes.” Raspy with sleep and clipped with annoyance. 

“Not much of a morning person, eh?”

Severus turned a glare on him. Harry chuckled and sat up. Severus clicked his tongue and returned his gaze to the ceiling. He scrubbed at his face with both hands. It made a rough, scratchy sound. They were both of them getting a bit scruffy and stubbly. Harry hadn’t ever used anything more than a shaving charm. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with a razor, even if he wanted to, or even had one out here. He couldn’t imagine Severus was in a much different boat. 

“Well,” Harry said, grabbing his kit and crawling towards the exit. “I’m going to the loos. Don’t fall back to sleep. If you aren’t at the hob in twenty, I’ll drag you out by the ankle.”

Severus lifted his head from the pillow. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me, Severus.” Harry smirked.

Severus’ gaze darkened.

Harry disappeared through the tent flap, a grin stretching across his face.

**********

Six slices of bacon sizzled in the skillet on the camp stove. Harry gave a wary glance to the little gas canister powering the thing. It smelled a bit unsafe, but Rolanda and Cecily had cooked with it well enough. Severus stood next to him, watching, in jeans and a grey jumper. His hair was tousled and his posture subdued. His expression was blandly curious. If he had any particular emotions about once again waking up snuggling Harry’s pillow, he was keeping them well-buried. 

Harry pushed the bacon around in the grease. “Smells nice.” 

“I despise bacon.”

“No one despises bacon.”

“I do.”

Harry scoffed. “Alright. There are a couple of leftover sausages from yesterday’s breakfast. I can throw them on here for you.”

Severus grunted. He turned to the plastic tub full of supplies and rummaged around. Harry moved the finished slices to a platter lined with paper roll. He scrapped away a bit of the grease before placing another six slices into the skillet. 

“How do you feel about eggs?”

Severus lined up neat piles of cutlery. “I feel neither sentimental nor hateful towards eggs.”

“No, you prat. How do you like them prepared?” The students began to wander over from their tents, rubbing their eyes and chattering. Harry swapped out another round of finished bacon for the last few slices and the leftover links of sausage. “I was going to scramble them for the kids.”

Severus placed a carton of orange juice beside a stack of paper cups. He twisted it round and round in a circle. “I don’t care for the texture of scrambled eggs.”

“Alright. What about fried?”

“Potter.” Severus gathered fruit in a bowl as the kids assigned to help them ambled up. “I honestly do not care.”

Harry half-listened as Severus delegated various tasks to the students: cutting up fruit, preparing toast over the campfire, pouring out servings of juice, and wiping down tables. Harry cracked eggs into a bowl, leaving one behind in the carton. He scrambled them up with pepper, salt, and a bit of cheese. Back at Hogwarts, Severus usually ate a soft-boiled egg for breakfast. The elves served it up to him in an egg dish with a little spoon. Harry liked watching his firm grip on the spoon as he cracked the delicate shell, his nimble fingers as he dipped buttered toast into the oozy center. Harry tapped the rounded peak of the last egg. 

“Hollingseed,” Harry called over the Ravenclaw girl. He pulled a small pot out from the tub of supplies and handed it to her. “Will you fill this with water for me?”

“Of course, Professor.”

As she skipped away with the pot, Harry added the last of the bacon to the platter. He grabbed a plate for the couple of sausages he’d cooked, wishing he could place a warming charm on them. Instead, he pulled off a bit of aluminum foil and sealed it over the plate. It was the best he could do out here. 

When Hollingseed returned with the pot, Harry smiled and thanked her. He took the coffee percolator off the hot plate and replaced it with the pot. He poured out the grease from the skillet before he dumped in the scrambled egg mixture. He pushed the eggs around the skillet while he waited for the water to boil. It didn’t take long for it to bubble up and roil enough for Harry to drop in the last egg. It dipped and bobbed under Harry’s watchful gaze. He peeked up at Severus. With a blue tin cup of black coffee in hand, Severus supervised the children completing their various tasks. Harry pulled off another bit of foil and shaped it into an impromptu egg cup. 

Once everything was ready and lined up on the table, Harry called the kids over to serve themselves. Rolanda and Cecily tagged along behind them. Severus plunked himself down at a far table. 

“Wow, guys!” Cecily eyed the platters of food, glanced over her shoulder at Severus, and then smiled at all the kids. “It looks great.”

“Yeah, everyone did a bit of something.” Harry arranged the egg cup between two slices of toast, cut diagonally, and a couple of orange wedges. He shifted the sausages to one side so he could fit a dab of jam and a pat of butter onto the plate. Satisfied, he nodded and picked it up. He smiled at Cecily. She gave Harry a curious look as he walked away. Over his shoulder, he called out, “It all came together nicely, I think.”

As Harry approached, Severus was swirling the dregs of his coffee around with one hand while the other propped up his head on the table. Harry’s stomach jumped into his throat when their eyes met. The plate shook a bit as he placed it down in front of the man. Severus glanced down at the plate, up at Harry, then down at the plate again. Harry laid out the silverware on either side. Severus’ eyebrows smashed together, wrinkling the skin between them into deep lines. Harry retreated. One backwards step at a time. Dark, confused eyes followed him. He didn’t think too many people had made breakfast for Severus Snape just because they wanted to. That had to be worth a couple points in Harry Potter’s favor. Harry smirked and spun on his heel. 

Harry went back for his own breakfast: toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, a banana, and, of course, the requisite coffee with milk and sugar. Then, he sat himself down beside Cecily and across from Severus. 

Rolanda gave Harry a knowing look and winked. “What does one have to do to get a special breakfast made by Harry Potter?”

Harry grinned and said, “You are all eating a special breakfast made by Harry Potter.”

“Some more special than others.”

Severus arched an eyebrow at Rolanda. Keeping his eyes on her, he dunked a sausage into the creamy yellow yoke of his egg, brought it to his mouth, and bit into it. Harry chuckled around a bite of banana. He watched Severus eat his breakfast with a satisfied feeling warming his chest. 

**********

Light dappled the ground around them as it streamed in through the tree canopy. Harry fiddled with the neck strap on his binoculars. The things were hanging all the way down to his bits. Whoever had used them last must have a torso like a bloody snake. Severus, arms crossed and face passive, watched him struggle with the clasps and snaps.

“We are going to want to be real quiet.” Rolanda stood in the center of the clearing with Cecily beside her. The students, Severus, and Harry made a circle around them. “Birds are jittery creatures, and they have pretty good hearing. Very keen eyesight. So, you will want to be still as well.”

Cecily nodded. “I want us to stay together as much as possible, but, since we are out here in the woods today and might end up separated, make sure you are within arm’s reach of your buddy at all times.” Cecily looked at Harry, smiled, and swept a curl behind her ear. She placed a hand on Rolanda’s shoulder. “Everyone touch their buddy now.”

The kids giggled. Harry giggled, and then placed his hand on Severus’ shoulder. He felt solid and warm under Harry’s grasp. Severus rolled his eyes, but allowed it, which turned Harry’s giggle into a proper laugh. 

“Yes, yes,” Rolanda said. “Thank you for the reminder that you, as well as Professor Potter evidently, are all thirteen years old. Now, remove your hands from your buddies and pull out your bird guides.”

Severus flipped through the pages of his guide. Harry couldn’t remember where his was. Cecily had given it to him that night at the Three Broomsticks when they’d gone over the itinerary. He hadn’t seen it since. The Idiot’s Guide to Camping did not have a chapter on bird watching. It did have a section about how to keep birds and rodents out of the camp site by cleaning up after yourself. Good information, but not particularly relevant at the moment. 

Harry did not know a bloody thing about bloody birds. He knew a bit about owls, but he’d not owned one since he actually was a teenager. He’d have to fake today’s activity like a fifth year divination paper. He didn’t think it would be too hard. Surely, they wouldn’t spot that many birds in this tiny spot of forest in southern England. 

Severus stashed the guide in his back pocket as he turned for the tree line. Harry took the opportunity to watch the man’s arse as he walked away. One cheek was, obviously, blocked by the book in his pocket, but the other was pleasantly round. Not too round, but not at all flat either. Harry happily followed after it. 

They tromped to another, smaller, clearing. Wind rustled the leaves and the lilting twitter of birds rung out around them. This clearing had a couple boulders to sit on as well. Some of the students crammed themselves behind them, peeking their binoculars over the edge like Muggle spies. Severus tucked himself into the shadow of a tree, hands clasped behind his back. Harry leant against the tree beside him. 

“Where are your binoculars?”

“As I’ve said multiple times, I am here to supervise children, not camp.”

“It’s more fun to join in.”

“You are supposed to be silent, Potter. You’re scaring away the birds.”

Harry huffed. He lifted his binoculars to his eyes and looked up into the trees. He didn’t see anything. He shifted his search to the lower branches. “Did you ever have to do stake out type stuff as a spy?”

Severus shushed him as he glanced around, then shifted closer to Harry, and said, through gritted teeth, “Shut up, Potter.”

“I hate to break this to you, Severus,” Harry kept his voice low, “but everyone knows you were a spy.” Harry offered his binoculars over to Severus, who shook his head and looked away. “I suppose—”

“Potter, I have no desire to talk about that here.”

Harry pressed his lips together. “Right. Sorry.”

“Or ever, anywhere.”

Well, Harry felt like a twat. He pushed off from the tree. He lifted the binoculars back up to his face, partially to move on from the conversation and partially to hide his now blushing cheeks. 

“Very quiet now,” Cecily whispered from a few trees down, pointing up. “In the tree there, you can see a Magpie sleeping tucked against the bark.”

Harry and all the kids pointed their binoculars in that direction. There was a scattering of appreciative noises. “Oh,” Harry murmured. “I see it.” It was a pretty thing. Black and dark blue feathers with a splash of pale white on its chest. “Severus, it looks like you.” Some of the kids chuckled, nervously. Harry turned around in time to see Cecily cover her mouth and Severus shake his head. “It’s even got a green tail.”

“You imagine I possess a tail.” Severus’ inflection made the sentence more an annoyed statement of fact than a question. Harry smirked and offered up the binoculars to him again. Severus made a very put upon sound, but took them. Harry unlooped the strap from his neck and tossed it over Severus’ head. Not an easy feat, the tall git. Severus clicked his tongue and said, “It looks nothing like me. It looks like a normal bird.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Severus shifted to another tree, then another. Harry watched his long, delicate fingers wrap around the binoculars, watched them carefully manipulate the focus wheel. Severus put his back to Harry, scanning the higher branches behind them. Severus hummed. “Oh, there. I’ve found one that looks like Potter.” Harry, Cecily, Rolanda, and the students spun to find it. Severus continued, “Small, exceedingly small. Ruffled. Disheveled. Missing a few feathers. Obnoxiously colorful. I do believe it is a Great Tit.”

“Oi.” Harry glared in Severus’ direction, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward. 

Rolanda stage-whispered. “That’s a type of bird, Potter.”

“Oh. I knew that.”

Severus smirked. “No, you didn’t.”

“Rude. Alright, give them back now.” Harry took the binoculars from Severus’ hands, unintentionally pulling the man’s face down towards his. Very close to his own, in fact. Their eyes locked together. Severus breath, minty sweet, warmed his cheek along with another fierce blush. Harry’s heart skipped a beat and want tugged low between his hips. Severus narrowed his eyes, took the strap off from around his neck and backed away. Harry shook his head to clear it, sighed, and mumbled, “Get your own binoculars, Severus.”

**********

  Harry rolled his neck against the back of his cloth camp chair. Stars dotted the blue-black sky above him. Curls of smoke laced between them. Harry lifted a hand and twiddled his fingers, wanting to touch the beauty of it, to seal it into his memory. He needed to get out of the castle more. Appreciate the beauty of the normal world. He couldn’t even remember the last time he simply gazed up at the night sky.

He dropped his hand back to his belly. His full belly. He, Severus, and a few of the kids had made a kind of taco thing for dinner. They cooked up some hamburger meat with seasonings. Then, everyone added it to individual bags of crisps along with some cheese and chopped up veggies, salsa, and beans. It was good and Harry had had three of them. Cecily had actually managed to bake an apple cake treat over the campfire. Harry couldn’t not have some of that too.

“Severus.” Harry rolled his head to the left. “I think I ate too much.”

Severus scoffed. “Most likely. You hoovered up everything not nailed down.”

“Haha.” Harry curled forward and groaned. “Why did you let me do that?”

“When have I ever been able to stop you from doing as you pleased?”

Just this morning. When Severus’ arms hugged him close, his thigh draped over Harry’s, his head nestled in the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry’d very much wanted to do some pleasing things. Pleasing for the both of them. Hopefully. Harry sat back with a sigh. 

The campfire roared in front of them. Severus had pulled his chair up nice and snug again. Harry suspected the man had trouble keeping warm. It would explain the tent cuddling. The students circled out around them, wrapped up in blankets and jumpers. The air smelled of wood and sap and smoke and the lingering remnants of dinner.   

He’d done a shit job of impressing Severus today. It had started with such promise. A little snuggle as the sun came up. The man seemed to enjoy his breakfast. But Harry had been useless at finding birds, hopeless at identifying the ones others spotted. He’d gotten completely turned around when he’d tried to use his compass to lead them back to camp. He’d made the ugliest friendship bracelet during craft time. Dinner hadn’t been his idea and Cecily’s apple cake was the real star of the meal. Now, he’d given himself a stomachache like a toddler at a birthday party. 

Harry crossed his arms and felt sorry for himself. Even the students’ laughter, Rolanda’s good humor, and Cecily’s smile were annoying him. He should just send himself off to bed. But, of course, then he’d have to face the bloody temptation that was a docile, sleep-warm Severus Snape.

“Potter’s looking sad,” Rolanda said. She sat just on the other side of him but she’d spoken loud enough for all to hear. “Must be time for some ghost stories. A good scare will cheer him up.”

Harry didn’t know what to do with that logic, but gave her a half-hearted smile. 

“I’ll go first!” Kentmore, a Slytherin boy, stood up and cleared his throat. “There was a vampire, but he didn’t suck blood. He ate hearts whole.”

Some of the kids gasped, some laughed, but they all gave their full attention. Harry threw a grin to Severus, who tossed Harry the classic Snape arched eyebrow. Harry shuffled down, got comfortable, and readied himself to be entertained. Stories ping-ponged from one student to the next. Tales of vampires and poltergeist and Muggle witch-hunters. There was one about a toxic sludge that oozed through the plumbing that had even Harry shivering. 

“Cold, Potter?”

Harry jumped. Severus’ voice was close, whispered right into his ear. “A bit, yeah.”

“Not scared?”

“Course not.” Harry turned his head, and almost knocked noses with the man. If they were any closer, they’d be nuzzling like bunnies in a burrow. Keeping his voice low so as not to interrupt the Hufflepuff girl telling a story about giant spiders, Harry asked Severus, “Are you scared?”

Severus gave an unimpressed look and twisted to the other side, away from Harry. He bent over. Harry could hear him rustle through his pack. When he turned back around, he had a grey jumper in his hands. Harry glanced from the one in his hands to the black one Severus was already wearing. Harry opened his mouth to ask why he had two jumpers on him, but was stopped when Severus tossed it at Harry’s face.

Harry removed it from his face and shot him an appropriate expression before pulling the sweater over his head. The arms were too long and the shoulders a little snug, but Harry warmed instantly. He smiled at Severus and said, “Thanks.” 

Severus nodded, settling back in his chair and tucking his limbs tightly back against his body. 

Harry buried his nose into the soft fabric. It smelled like Severus. Citrus-y and herbal. Harry closed his eyes and drifted away on it. Three days ago, he’d not known this scent at all and, now, it sparked a flame low in his gut. His senses lit up. He ached to touch, to reach out and possess. Harry opened his eyes, watched the campfire flames dance, and plotted ways of accidentally keeping the jumper forever.

Chapter Text

Day Four

Again, Harry woke cozy and content. This time, however, his brain skipped over the confusing whys and hows. This time he knew he had Severus in his arms, the weight and shape of the man’s body becoming more familiar and welcome with each morning. 

Tucked in the crook of Harry’s arm, Severus had one hand resting over Harry’s heart, each beat inching it towards the warm palm above. His nose nuzzled the delicate skin of Harry’s throat and his breath puffed against Harry’s collarbone. His body, so soft and docile, pressed into the curves and hollows of Harry’s. An ache to protect, to cherish, unfurled from Harry’s core. He tightened the arm cradled around Severus’ slim shoulders.

Harry brought his free hand up to trace the long fingers splayed out on his chest. Knobby knuckles and neat, rounded nails. The whorls of Harry’s fingerprints caught on sparse hairs, on the dips of nicks and scars, and on the ridges of veins. He continued down to the fine-boned wrist, wrapped his fingers around the whole of it. The professor of his youth had seemed so all-powerful, all-consuming, so fierce and strong, but Severus was just a man like him. Slight and scarred and in need of a cuddle. 

Severus’ pulse fluttered beneath the pale skin of his wrist. Harry lifted the limb and pressed it to his mouth, felt Severus’ heartbeat against his lips. He brushed a barely-there kiss to it before bringing it back down to his chest and lacing his fingers with Severus’. He gave the hand a little squeeze and closed his eyes. 

The hand squeezed back, quick, light, tentative as a butterfly wing. 

Harry’s eyes snapped open. He stopped breathing. 

He’d imagined it. 

A few gentle touches wouldn’t wake him. Severus slept like the dead, a great inert snoring lump of…Oh. The quiet of the small tent flooded in. His heart pounded against their joined hands. His mind raced. Terrified to move and scare off Severus, equally terrified to let the potential of the moment pass, his muscles went rigid with his indecision. 

Severus stiffened, stilled in a different sort of way, not the pleasant sleepy sort. He jerked his head away from Harry’s shoulder, shifted his hips away from Harry’s side. He moved to untangle their fingers, but Harry tightened his grip. Harry’s tongue poked out, slipping across bottom lip, as he turned his head to look at the man beside him. 

Severus had his eyes squeezed shut, wrinkling up the skin around them, creating deep furrows between his eyebrows. Harry lifted their joined hands, stretched out a finger to smooth them out. They only deepened further under his ministrations. Harry, grip still strong, dropped their hands between them. He rolled onto his side to face Severus.

“Severus.” Harry’s voice, still thick with sleep, cracked over the name. “Do you want me to let go of you?”

Severus’ jaw clenched, his face twitching from the force of it. He pursed his lips, squeezed Harry’s hand again, and crept forward, bit by bit, closing the space between them until they were sharing the same breath, until their lips were touching. 

Harry kept his eyes open, not wanting to miss a single detail of their first kiss. They crossed taking in the whole of Severus’ expression; it wasn’t the reaction he’d been fantasizing about the last few days. Tension so palpable it screamed at Harry. From the worried wrinkling of his forehead to the painful stiffness in his jaw to the white flare of his nostrils. Harry let go of Severus’ hand, brought his up to cup the man’s face, stroking the smooth line of his cheekbone. Petting him. Hoping to calm him, to reassure him and bring him out of his head. 

As the man eased into pliancy, Harry closed his eyes and kissed him, tilting his head, slotting their lips together just so. He buried his hand in Severus’ hair as he took soft sips from his top lip, his fuller bottom lip. Severus kissed him back hesitantly, quick flexes of his lips against Harry’s, as though he feared Harry was something fragile and breakable. It was all too tenuous, too brittle. A long way from what he needed. 

Harry hooked a leg over Severus’ thigh. With a roll of his hips, he tugged Severus against him. The hint of friction teased Harry’s cock into hardening against the soft flannel of his sleep pants. He pulled Severus in further, melding them together and finding Severus in the same state. Harry moaned against Severus’ parted lips. Severus echoed the sound back to him, a deep rumble that travelled from Harry’s lips, down his spine, lodging itself low in his belly. Burning and aching and needy. 

Harry took his mouth from Severus’, looked down, breaths panting humid between them. He drew his hands from Severus’ hair, traced them down his long throat and over the tempting curve of a slim collarbone. His sleep shirt was so soft, the texture of the weave gave under Harry’s fingers. The dips and curves of muscle and bone, the solid reality of his hands on this man. This amazing, untouchable man. Harry swallowed, the click of it loud in the small, quiet space. 

Harry’s eyes lifted, met the wide, searching gaze of Severus’ dark eyes. The light was still low, blue-grey, but it was enough to make out the brown ring around black pupils. The kiss-swollen red of his lips. His hair tangled, ruffled, where Harry’s hands had been. 

Harry’s fingers continued downward, finding the peeked nubs of Severus’ nipples. He thumbed them and Severus’ jaw tensed, his eyelids fluttered. So responsive. It thrilled Harry, sent his blood soaring through his veins. Harry circled his thumbs, swiped them across the sensitive flesh every few turns around. With a whimper, Severus closed his eyes, pressed his forehead to Harry’s. Harry brushed their lips together as his hands drifted lower and lower, finding the hem of Severus’ shirt, lifting it, burrowing underneath until he touched warm, bare skin. Severus’ body jolted into the touch.

Severus reached out for Harry, hesitantly. One hand lifted to cradle Harry’s hip. The other, feather-light, traced the line of Harry’s jaw. The tenderness of it ached, made Harry keen. He turned his face into the touch, into Severus’ lovely, trembling hand, wanting more, wanting all of Severus. Harry kissed his palm, left his lips to linger against the delicate skin. 

Severus’ other hand crept lower, made space between them, and pressed itself against Harry’s cock. A shock of want, of lust, of need sparked, lit, raced across Harry’s skin, across every nerve ending. He bucked into Severus’ hand, needing the friction, needing the heat. Needing the contact. Needing Severus. 

Harry wrapped his fingers around Severus’ cock. Heavier than Harry expected. Thick and hard. Even through the fabric of his flannel bottoms, the heat of his arousal warmed Harry’s palm. Severus hissed as Harry stroked him, slow and steady to start. Speeding up as Severus’ hand weaved its way into Harry’s hair, tugging the strands until the roots ached, as pleasure broke across his face. His lips parted, giving Harry a glimpse of his pink tongue. He rocked himself into Harry’s hand and buried a groan into Harry’s pillow. 

“Don’t hide from me.” The hand not on Severus’ prick, the one still buried under the man’s shirt, flexed, and Harry’s nails dug into the tensing abdominals. “Fucking gorgeous, you are. Amazing. I want to watch you.”

Severus hushed him. Kissed him. Whispered, “Have to be so quiet.”

The gravelly rasp of his voice made Harry shiver. He released Severus’ prick, brought his hand to the waistband of his pyjamas, dipped his fingers beneath it. Their eyes met. Severus’ breath hitched as his tongue ran across his bottom lip, wetting it. He released Harry’s prick, brought his hand up to the waistband of Harry’s pants, and pushed inside. Long fingers wrapped around Harry’s length, and he forgot that he was the one that asked for permission first. He threw his head back, his eyes slammed shut. His focus narrowed to just this feeling, this high, tight, hot feeling. Like he would burst from his skin if he didn’t break through, didn’t climb this peak.

Lips on his throat. The hand on his cock sped up. The pressure perfect, secure and safe, holding him, carrying him there, bringing him to that blissful moment. It built, and built, dazzling and glorious and too much, too much. His toes curled, his back arched, and it hit him. Sent him flying over the edge into molten pleasure. 

His muscles released, unwound. His breath came back to him as his jaw went slack. His heartbeat fluttered in his neck, his wrists, his temples, like a bird. He opened his eyes. Severus’ heated gaze was on him, studying him. Harry shivered, quirked a smile. His hands were still on Severus, still touching him. He moved his hand, dove in to grip Severus. His cock was bigger than Harry’s. Soft, smooth skin over hard granite. Harry adjusted, shifted, until he had a good feel for it, and stroked, up and down. Severus’ cock was damp with precome, slick and perfect. Harry set a steady rhythm and watched, eyes never leaving Severus. 

A breath shuddered across Severus’ lips, gusting over Harry’s. Severus leant his forehead against Harry’s, pressed in as he whined. His hands, sticky with Harry’s release, grasped and clutched at Harry’s shirt. He rocked his hips forward. 

“That’s it, Severus. Come for me. I want to see you, please. Please let me see you.”

Severus pushed his mouth to Harry’s, not so much a kiss, as a point of grounding, as his body rutted, tensed, and broke against Harry’s, as he came and came and came. The sounds he made when he did, high and broken, Harry’s heart could barely stand it. Harry muttered, “yes, yes, yes,” against Severus’ panting mouth, and, “so good.” He’d take him apart, unravel him, everyday just to have the chance to put him together again. 

Harry loosened his hold on the man’s softening cock, wiped his hand, softly, carefully, and brought it up to mantle his hip. Harry ran the tip of his nose up the long ridge of Severus’. Kissed him, sweetly, as he came back to himself. With a sigh, Severus’ eyes opened, looked into Harry’s. Harry’d give anything to read the thoughts swimming behind their dark depths. 

Harry’s lips parted, wanting to tie this moment to the light of day, to reality, with some inane comment, any comment that would make this more than a quick tumble in the dark, but a child’s laugh broke the silence before he could. The world rushed into their haven. They weren’t alone. Severus wasn’t laying beside him because he’d chosen to. Whatever just happened wasn’t romance, it wasn’t born of truth and emotion, but circumstance and convenience. Harry tried to smile, but didn’t think he was successful.

Severus closed his eyes with a sigh. He untangled himself from Harry’s grasp, rolled onto his back, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Canines flashing white in the pale light as he sneered. 

Definitely not successful then. 

Harry pushed up onto an elbow. Waited, watched. More chatter filtered in from outside. Rolanda shouted something Harry couldn’t make out. 

Harry licked his lips, still raw and tender. His voice cracked over a simple, “Hey.” He cleared his throat to try again, but then the skies opened up. The thunk, thunk, thunk of heavy rain drops against fabric. Children shrieked outside, and Cecily’s voice rose to calm them. The thunks came steadier and steadier, until Harry couldn’t make out each drop, there was just a white noise of the storm. 

Severus sat up, muttered, “Fucking perfect.” His hair was a mess, an absolute tangled wreck. Harry wanted to fix it, run his fingers through it. He clenched his hands to stop himself and found the spaces between his fingers were still tacky with Severus’ come. Fresh heat pooled between his legs, his cock already ready for another go. 

“Snape! Potter!” Rolanda unzipped their tent flap. Harry shoved his hands into the folds of his sleeping bag and Severus pulled his pillow to his lap as her head popped through. She peered in at them, squinted. “Get out here and help us cover everything.”

She disappeared just as quickly as she’d appeared and Harry exhaled a held breath. Severus groaned, in the annoyed professor way, not the extraordinary way he’d done when Harry had his hands on his body. Harry didn’t know how to get back there. Didn’t know if they ever would. 

But, Merlin, he hoped so. 

**********

Water ran down the back of Harry’s neck, winding a path along his spine and pooling at the waistband of his pyjamas. His clothes clung to his skin, sticking and pulling as Harry bent over to wiggle a stake into the wet ground. The warmth he’d found in Severus’ arms was far, far away. It’d departed before he’d even left the tent. Severus had gone cold as they’d laced up their boots to help out. No matter what Harry had said to pry him open, he’d stayed silent. A tense, edgy silence tinged with annoyance. 

Harry pounded the stake in with the tent mallet, his grip slippery and accuracy questionable. He stepped back to take it in, to make sure it would all hold together. The canopy they’d erected wasn’t perfect by any means, but it covered two picnic tables and a bare patch of damp grass. Tall enough for a person to stand upright, there was also a gauzy fabric attached to it that draped down around the whole of it. It zipped shut to close the space off from the wet and the bugs. 

Severus, much like Harry, was still in his pyjamas, and also like Harry, the rain had soaked right through them, leaving them clinging to his lean figure. He would have made a lovely sight if not for the dour turn of his mouth. 

Cecily shoved a tarp into Severus’ hands. “Lay this out on the grass in there and we’ll pile all of the supplies on top of it.”

Severus rushed inside and Harry followed on his heels. Severus whipped the tarp open. Harry grabbed one end of it, intending to help spread it out, but Severus yanked it from his hands. Harry huffed and lifted his palms in surrender. Harry watched him lay the thing out by himself. Severus stalked to each corner to tug it into place, sharply edging around Harry’s space. 

“Severus.”

The man spun on the spot and left the canopy, choosing the downpour over Harry. Harry chased after him. When he caught up with him, Severus was piling the various cords and such on top of the little grill. Harry shook his head, picked up the first tote he came across, and ran back to the canopy.

Harry placed the tote down on a corner of the tarp. Severus came behind him with the propane grill in his hands. Harry reached for it. “Here, let me help.” But Severus swung it out of his grasp, not even bothering to look at Harry. He plunked it down on top of the plastic tote. It rattled in a way that Harry hoped did not mean they’d be eating cold sandwiches and cereal for the rest of the week. 

They crossed paths with Cecily and Rolanda as they went out to rescue more supplies. Severus bustled past them, knocking into Cecily without apology. Harry gave her a sheepish look, and then hated himself for it. It was not his place to smooth over Severus’ bad behavior. Even when it was a bit his fault. 

Harry marched over to where Severus stood glaring down at the pile of firewood. Severus bent to scoop up an armload. He straightened, made to walk away without giving Harry the time of day, but Harry grabbed his elbow. 

“Severus.” Water soaked the cuffed ends of his pants. Severus yanked himself free and made for the canopy. Harry shouted after him, “Severus.”

Severus disappeared through the entry flap of the canopy. Harry closed his eyes, tipped his face up to the pounding rain. It did not wash away the harsh sting of rejection.

Well. What did he expect? Soft touches, lingering gazes, soppy smiles? 

Harry shook his head, tucked his chin down to his chest, and took a deep breath.

It continued on like that, armload of supplies after armload of supplies. Severus didn’t accept Harry’s help. He didn’t respond to anything he said. He wouldn’t even so much as glance in Harry’s direction. 

Finally, after everything that could be squeezed inside the canopy was squeezed inside, after the students were all accounted for, Cecily pulled out two boxes of cereal and a gallon of milk. Rolanda set some coffee brewing. He and Severus spread board games out over the two tables covered by the canopy. Harry hoped they’d do the job of entertaining two dozen teenagers for as long as the rain lasted. He would not have the patience for anything else today. 

The kids couldn’t all fit at the covered tables, but that didn’t seem to bother them. Half of them opted to stay cloistered in their tents with packs of cards and cups of dry cereal. Cecily handed out bananas as they ran back for the tents. Rolanda followed after, reminding them to stay hydrated. “Just because we’re all wet through-and-through doesn’t mean you have enough water pumping through your insides.” The other kids settled around the tables with their breakfasts while Harry explained to them the basics of Cluedo, Battleship, and the various other Muggle games.

Once their charges were settled and safe, Harry and Severus plodded back to the tent. Exchanging his wet clothes for warm ones while having a sneaky kiss and cuddle would have been bloody fantastic. That was not what he got. Severus, with his back pointedly turned to Harry, efficiently peeled out of his wet clothes, not uttering a word. Harry, also very pointedly, watched Severus ignore him.

Harry yanked his boots off, his soggy socks coming away with them. He’d slept in his favorite jumper and thus had ended up thoughtlessly dashing out into the rain in it. He didn’t want to chance wearing Severus’ and having it taken away. That left him having to layer on every bit of dry clothing he had left in his pack.

While Severus was half-naked and unable to run away, Harry gave it one last go. “Severus, please, can we talk about what happened?”

Severus tugged on a grey thermal shirt, unrolled dry socks and pulled them over his shockingly pale feet, and thoroughly pretended not to hear him. Harry threw a pillow at the back of his head. He didn’t even flinch.

“You are mad at me.” Harry scoffed, not that he at all found this funny. “Actually bloody, fucking mad at me.”

Severus pulled a jumper over his head, a black, well-worn one. The man seemed to have an endless supply of jumpers in a rainbow of colors. He pushed his arms through too-short sleeves and reached for his boots.

“We have a lot of this trip left. You cannot pretend I don’t exist the entire time.”

Severus growled, actually growled, and practically apparated from the tent. Harry buried his face in his hands with a growl of his own. 

**********  

Harry sat at one of the tables, a tin cup of coffee going cold in front of him. His eyes hadn’t left its milky depths in ages. He couldn’t bear looking up. Couldn’t take the chance of catching sight of Severus. Rejection was not an unfamiliar animal to Harry. Nothing stung quite like Severus’ though, and Harry’d had enough of it for the day.

“Do you want a refresh, Harry?”

Harry glanced up at Cecily through his lashes. His eyes, treacherous bastards that they were, shot right over to Severus. The man had his nose buried in a damp looking book. Harry sighed, looked at Cecily, and said, “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

Severus sat at the farthest edge of the table, as far from Harry as he could get. An arse cheek had to be hanging off the end of the bench. Harry pressed his lips together into a firm line and looked his full. A sweep of dark hair covered half his face. His shoulders curled forward towards the book on the table in front of him. Every skin cell of him, every molecule screamed, “fuck off”. 

Cecily placed a fresh, steaming cup of coffee down in front of Harry before she took up the spare seat on his right. She peeked over her shoulder at Severus then gave Harry a pained look. “He must really hate the rain. He seems more…upset than usual.”

Harry chuckled, not loudly, but Severus curled even further into himself as it traveled his way. Harry shook his head and wrapped his hands around the warm metal of the tin cup. “Don’t overthink it, honestly. It could be bloody anything with him.”

Cecily grinned, tucking her chin to her chest. Her blue eyes sparkled through the fan of her lashes. Harry returned the grin, something hot lighting up in his gut. Something vengeful and bitter and gleeful. He blew across his coffee, kept his eyes on Severus, and sipped. 

“Rain aside.” Cecily smirked, resting her chin in her hand. “Have you been having fun?”

“Oh yeah. You’ve done a brilliant job.” Severus’ fingers curled against the table and Harry’s tongue darted across his bottom lip. “You’re always brilliant though. I had no doubts.” Severus’ hand tightened into a fist, his knuckles white. Harry smiled, sharp and winning, at Cecily. She flushed pink. Harry let his gaze dart between her and Severus, soaking in the reactions he was provoking in both. He pressed the tip of his tongue to his canine tooth. “And, I’ve tangled with worse than a bit of water.” 

Cecily chuckled; Severus couldn’t have been holding himself any stiller without becoming a statue. All carved lined and smooth marble. 

 Harry tore his eyes away from the curve of Severus’ neck to look into Cecily’s shining eyes. “Are you having a good time?”

“Of course. I’m really glad you came.”

Harry gave her his best smile. At least someone was pleased he was here. It soothed Harry’s tattered ego. She smiled so sweetly back though that a wave of guilt choked off his expression. He swallowed around the now sharp something and looked back into his coffee, twisted the cup against the wood grain of the table. 

“Aw, look, Professor Potter is blushing,” Hollingseed, the terribly clever little Ravenclaw, called out over her Battleship board. “And Professor Brunswork is smiling so wide.”

The kids giggled. They all turned from their games to stare at Harry and Cecily. A Gryffindor girl started up a chorus of “Professors Potter and Brunswork sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Harry’s cheeks were definitely burning red now. He rolled his lips between his teeth, grunted a half-laugh, and shook his head. He ran his hands through his hair, flattened his fringe, and did not dare to so much as glance at Cecily. 

“First comes love. Then comes marriage!”

Now, he couldn’t bare to look at Cecily or Severus. The only adult he had left was Rolanda. His eyes swung to her.

Rolanda must have seen the panic silently screaming from Harry. Her eyebrows arched towards her hairline. “Hey, hey now!” She made herself heard over the kids’ continued singing, pushing to her feet. “Stop that. Leave them be.”

The kids did stop, but they did it with barely covered titters and coos. Harry felt Cecily’s eyes on him. He rubbed at the back of his neck, tucking his chin to his chest, he sent her a grimace. 

She leant in close and whispered, “Ignore them. At this age, everything is all hormones.” She bit at her bottom lip. “Makes them see things that aren’t there, yeah?”

Harry glanced at Severus. His face was still buried in his book, but his eyes were closed tight. Harry straightened, pulling out of Cecily’s space. He picked up his coffee and said, “Yeah. Things that aren’t there.”

**********

Harry stood outside of their tent. Rain pounded against the plastic rain coat he held over his head. Fresh from the showers, his pack of toiletries dug into his shoulders, weighed him down. His molars locked tightly together, his nostrils flared as he inhaled and exhaled heavily. His heartbeat a steady thudding. Panic. He was panicking. The night sky, made dark with clouds, pressed in around him. But it was nothing to the claustrophobic feeling he knew was coming when he crawled into their tent. 

The whole day had been nothing but rain. Rain and the black clouds of Harry and Severus’ moods. Harry hadn’t heard the drawl of Severus’ voice since this morning when he’d shushed Harry, when he’d come for him. Then cursed him. 

Severus Snape was not an easy man. Harry knew. But knowing it and suffering under it aren’t the same. Ginny had always said the same of Harry. That his mood and temper balanced on a knife, triggered by shadows in his mind that she could never begin to understand. Harry’d called her dramatic. Harry needed to send her a card of apology, maybe some flowers. He sighed and unzipped the tent flap. 

He tried to shake out the rain coat, gave up, and dropped it outside the door. He added his shoes, shoving them as close to the tent as he could before closing the tent up for the night. He left his bag just inside the entrance. From its depths, he pulled out Severus’ grey sweater. It still smelled of the campfire from the night he’d loaned it to Harry. Wearing it was a risk, he knew. Severus could snatch it off him in the morning. Or, Severus could see it as a sign of Harry’s genuine affection. 

His continued affection. 

He drew it over his head, over his ratty sleep shirt, and crawled up the length of his sleeping bag, tucking himself into the cold confines. 

Harry turned on his side to face Severus. Severus was, once again, as far from Harry as he could get. His back to Harry. The top of his head peeked out from the folds of his sleeping bags. No matter how long or hard he looked, Harry couldn’t tell if the man was asleep or not. With a sigh, Harry settled in, shivered, hoped his sleeping bag would be warmed with a second body soon enough. He closed his eyes and waited for morning. 

Chapter Text

Day Five

A finger traced the edge of Harry’s bottom lip. He smiled against it and the one finger became three as they caressed the shape of his upturned mouth. Harry brushed a kiss to the cool tips of Severus’ fingers. The hand shifted to sweep a lock of hair behind Harry’s ear, travelled down his throat, and settled over the steady beating of his heart. 

The sleeping bags rustled, their knees knocked together. His pillow dipped under his cheek. Sleep stale breath met his own in the warm space between them. The end of Severus’ nose found his, nudged at it. His forehead came to rest against Harry’s. 

Harry ached to reach out, pull him in, to feel the heat and weight of Severus’ body against his own, but after yesterday he didn’t want to assume his welcome. Merlin, he wanted though. The sound of his pulse pounded in his ears. He hardly heard his own voice, softly desperate, as it whispered for permission, “Severus.”

The man’s hand trembled, his fingers curling against Harry’s chest. He made a noise, between a keening whine and a tremulous whimper. Harry’s fingers circled the man’s wrist, held the hand pressed to him. If Severus was afraid, Harry was more than happy to be brave for him, with him. He took a breath then found Severus’ lips, kissing him, sweetly, carefully. He flicked his tongue out to taste the man. Severus’ lips parted and his tongue met Harry’s. They slid, slick and strong, against each other.

With a groan, Severus rutted forward. Harry caught the lithe roll of the man’s hips, his fingers gripping the rounded curve of his arse. He pushed and pulled with Severus, matching his rhythm with the push and pull of his own hips. Setting the perfect tempo, finding the perfect friction. Each press of Severus prick against his own sent teasing tendrils of heat down his thighs and up his spine. Overwhelming and not enough all at once, he wanted to meld his body into Severus’. Wanted to fuse them into one person. Wanted to make Severus his and his alone.

He tangled their legs together, keeping the slow roll of their hips going, but letting his hand drift upwards, to the hem of Severus’ shirt. His fingers found bare skin, sleep-warm and soft. The muscles fluttered and twitched under his palm. Severus tore his mouth from Harry’s. His nostrils huffed hot breath against Harry’s cheek as he gripped Harry’s jumper in two fists, twisting the fabric tighter and tighter the farther up Harry’s curious hands ventured. 

There was a ridge of scar tissue, the lines of lean muscle, then the pebbled peak of a nipple. Harry drew circles around it, felt it go taut as he brushed his thumb back and forth. Severus went rigid, shoved his chest into Harry’s hand and his covered prick against the friction of Harry’s moving hips. 

“Christ, you’re so responsive, Severus,” Harry whispered. “So beautiful.”

Severus hooked a leg over Harry, rolling him to his back, and pressing him into the ground. Nothing but packed earth and the thin layer of their tent floor below him, Severus on all fours above him, caging him in, Harry’s focus narrowed down to Severus’ mouth on his, Severus’ tongue drawing Harry’s out, the give and take, passing wet heat, panted breaths, back and forth between them. Only to have Severus withdraw, leaving Harry open-mouthed and wanting. 

Severus pressed his mouth to the pulse in Harry’s throat, to the dip of his collar bone. He rucked up the jumper and Harry’s sleep shirt, kissed Harry’s belly, the ridge of a hip bone. Trailed his lips to the line of soft hair that disappeared beneath the waistline of his pyjamas, then to the pressing hardness of his cock. Harry threw his head back, his back bowing. He bit his lip and willed his hips still, willed Severus to do it again, to do more.

Severus lifted Harry’s arse from the sleeping bag. Harry clutched at the bedding, gasping, as he was manhandled sideways, yanked about until his body was diagonal in their small tent. Severus went shy, glancing up at Harry through his lashes, fingers sliding along the edge of Harry’s pants, asking for permission. Harry swallowed, scoffed. Like he wouldn’t consent to absolutely anything Severus wanted. He nodded, and Severus tugged his bottoms off. His cock bounced free, obscene and aching. The head cradled in the last clinging bit of foreskin.

Severus tossed the clothes aside, pushed Harry’s legs apart, and settled on his stomach between them. Harry propped himself up on his elbows, wondering at his chances of surviving this. At Severus Snape between his legs, a willing Harry Potter at his mercy. Never, in all of his wildest fantasies, had Harry thought it possible. Audacious, ridiculous. Illicit and completely mad. The very idea. Something about the unreality of it made it all the more fascinating, alluring. Severus had been his teacher, his mother’s best friend. He’d healed Dumbledore only to kill him. He’d stood at the right hand of Voldemort. Severus Snape was the true savior of the Wizarding World. He was Harry’s own personal savior. And here he was, debasing himself between Harry’s thighs. God, but it was unfathomable. A frisson of heat, of pure lust, had Harry’s breath catching in his throat. He went dizzy with it. 

And then Severus met his eyes. He parted his lips, his pink tongue flicked out, teasing the shaft of Harry’s cock into hardening as they both watched. Harry’s mouth hung open, his chest heaved. His throat was so tight his lungs burned. He couldn’t pull in enough air. He’d swear he’d pass out if Severus didn’t put him out of his misery soon. 

Severus’ tongue traced the edge of his foreskin until it disappeared, exposing the whole of his swollen cock head to the chill air of the tent. Precome beaded from his slit, and Severus caught it on his tongue with a groan, his hips rutting down into their bedding. 

Severus brushed his glistening lips over the head, his breath panting warm against already blood-hot skin. His mouth sunk down onto Harry’s cock, his eyes closing, his fingers tightening where they held Harry’s hips down. His face went soft and intent, like sucking Harry off was the most glorious thing he’d ever done. Like he hadn’t spent all of the previous day treating Harry like gum on the bottom of his boots. 

Harry tangled his fingers in Severus’ hair and pulled. Severus’ body convulsed as a groan ripped from his throat. The rumble hit like an earthquake, traveling through Harry’s cock, out into his hips, down his thighs, up to his nipples. The man’s voice was a fucking weapon. 

Harry adjusted his grip, pulled until Severus’ face was tilted up, until their eyes met. Harry, slowly, pumped his hips, rolling his shaft further and further between the man’s lips, into tight, wet heat. Severus worked his tongue against that sensitive bit of skin beneath his slit, dipping in and driving Harry wild. 

Harry stilled, held Severus’ head in place, and ordered, “Get on your knees.” 

Severus swallowed around his cock, but pushed up on his knees, eyes not leaving Harry’s. 

“Now, take your pants off.” 

Severus tugged them down and kicked them to the side. 

“Spread your legs.” Harry tilted his head to see better. Severus’ cock hung heavy between his thighs, long and hard. Harry dug his teeth into his bottom lip. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Severus circled his tongue once around, his breath panting from his nostrils. Harry moaned and rolled his hips.

“Touch yourself while you suck me off.”

Severus closed his eyes with a groan and did just that. His graceful fingers wrapping around his lovely cock to stroke in time with the movement of his mouth. Harry watched the pink head appear and disappear within the cradle of Severus’ fist. Breathy grunts spilled from Harry’s lips and mixed with the wet sounds of Severus’ sucking Harry’s cock, with the rush of skin on skin as Severus’ hand flew on his own cock. 

Heat gathered low in Harry’s belly, tightening and releasing his muscles, tightening and releasing. His orgasm barreled towards him. “Severus. Severus, coming, ‘m coming.”

Severus didn’t take his mouth from Harry’s prick. His hand sped up as his face wrinkled with focus, with pleasure. His tongue twisted, circled, teased Harry over the edge. The world narrowed and widened at once. Harry shook as he spilled himself down Severus’ throat. 

Still, Severus didn’t release him. He suckled Harry, taking in every drop, as his hand blurred over his own cock. His nose pressed into the dark curls around Harry’s prick, he kept Harry in his mouth as he came with a strangled moan.

Harry ran his fingers through Severus’ hair, brushed his thumb over the lines on his forehead, trailed a finger over a thin eyebrow. Severus leaned into each touch, Harry’s softening cock falling from between his parted lips. 

“That was brilliant, Severus.”

Severus climbed up the length of Harry’s body, caging him again, and kissed him. Harry gripped his hips and pulled him close. Severus cradled Harry’s face, tilting his head, deepening the kiss. Harry tasted himself on the man’s tongue. Moaning, he hugged his arms around Severus. Their cocks, softening now and damp with saliva and come, nestled together. They both still had their shirts on though. Maybe next time, if there was a next time (please, Merlin, let there be a next time), they’d strip down to nothing at all. 

Their kiss slowed. Severus rolled off of Harry, settling against his side with Harry’s arm around him. Severus spread a hand out over the jumper Harry wore, Severus’ of course, tracing the words written on the front. Whatever it had once said was faded beyond legibility. 

Harry needed to say something, anything, before Severus made a go at reclaiming his clothing. He cleared his throat and said, “We’re on breakfast duty again this morning.” Severus sighed, running the hand down Harry’s chest to rest on his belly. Harry ran a hand up Severus’ arm and came to rest on his shoulder. “But at least the rain’s stopped.”

Severus pulled out of Harry’s arms and sat up. He scrubbed at his face with both hands. 

“I didn’t mean—”

“Why bother waiting?” Severus dropped his hands. He tugged his bottoms back on before turning to rummage in his pack. “The children always rise with the sun.”

The world outside of the tent had lightened while they’d been having sex. Sex. He’d had sex with Severus, again. Harry pushed up onto his elbows and watched Severus. “Hey. We’re good, yeah?”

“Don’t bother with the inane prattle, Potter.”

He crawled out the door and was gone before Harry could begin to form a response to that. Harry flopped back down onto his pillow. 

********** 

The rain had left the air humid. The ground was slick and muddy. All of their supplies had dried out at least. They’d left the canopy up though, just in case. By the time Harry arrived at it, Severus had already set up the stove and put the coffee kettle on to brew. A loaf of bread, eggs, and milk were laid out on the prep table. Severus plunked a jar of cinnamon next to it all.

“French toast?” 

“It’s easy.”

“A bit fancy for a campout.” Harry smiled. “I like it.”

“I’m glad you approve, but it was on Brunswork’s menu for the day.”

“Oh.” Harry had forgotten that such a thing even existed. A lifetime had passed in the last twenty-four hours. Harry’d journeyed into another life entirely. Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry, reading his mind most like. Harry scratched at his eyebrow. “Right, of course. Cecily really is fabulous at all this camping stuff.”

Severus hummed, his mouth twisting to one side. 

Harry popped the bin of cooking utensils open. He pulled out a metal mixing bowl and a whisk. Severus fiddled with the cords and knobs on the stove until it started heating up. Harry cracked eggs into the bowl, added a bit of milk, vanilla, and cinnamon, and then beat it all together. 

“Hello, boys.” Cecily had a towel draped across her shoulders and a smile spread across her face. Her toiletry bag was in her hands. She had that fresh-baked cookies scent about her again. “Sleep well?”

Harry nodded, glancing sideways at Severus. Severus sneered and dropped four slices of bread into Harry’s egg mixture. Harry sighed, struggling to look Cecily in the eyes. The guilt still burned low in his gut, making his heart skip unpleasantly. Harry twiddled the whisk from hand to hand, yellow-y egg dripping onto the table below it.

“Ok, well.” Cecily rapped her knuckles on the table. “I’ll just go round the kids up to come help out.”

Harry watched her walk away towards the tents. 

“Very smooth, Potter.”

Harry pointed the whisk at him. “Hush, you.”

Severus’ lips twitched as he tossed the four egg-soaked bread slices into the skillet.

“Would you rather I have told her about the bloody fantastic blow job I woke up to?”

Severus scowled and added another four slices of bread to soak in the mixture. “That would be counter to your purposes.”

Harry cocked his head. “My purposes?”

Whatever those purposes may have been, Harry would have to wait to find out. Half a dozen sleepy-eyed students wandered over at that exact moment. But, Harry had a pretty good idea anyway about what delusion Severus was suffering under, having caused it himself yesterday. 

Surely though, a man like Severus could see right through Harry, would know what a foolish aberration flirting with Cecily yesterday had been. For Merlin’s sake, he’d slept with Severus twice now. His intention must be clear as day. 

Unless. 

Unless Harry was the one misunderstanding Severus’ intentions. Maybe Severus wanted things to be casual. Maybe the sex with Harry was the aberration. Maybe Harry was a warm, available body that Severus intended to forget about once they returned back to the real world. Leaving Harry to pursue Cecily all he wanted. That made a certain sort of sense. Harry pressed his lips into a thin line. 

Harry, shoulders now slumped and curving inward, assigned tasks to the kids: pouring juice, setting the tables, cutting up fruit. He sighed and went off to supervise the students, leaving Severus behind at the camp stove.

It was probably better to leave everything unspoken and unquestioned. It’d be better if Harry relaxed and let whatever would happen, happen. His eyes darted back to the man. Harry wasn’t particularly keen to let Severus imagine he had any kind of intentions towards Cecily, but it certainly gave Harry’s heart a convenient shield against Severus’ inevitable rejection. Merlin, but Harry was a terrible person, leading Cecily on. He turned his back to Severus with a shake of his head, things more jumbled up than ever.

**********        

The sky was a clear, bright blue with the sun a round, yellow ball burning a hole in the middle of it. It was hot. Hotter than it should have been after a stormy day and night. But so perfect for the day’s activity that Harry could have sworn magic was involved. He narrowed his eyes at Cecily before peeking over his shoulder at the small beach cove beyond. 

“Everyone still have their buddy?” Cecily called out as the students bounced in front of them. It had taken over an hour to hike down to this spot on the coast. The kids, overeager, had made the trek in record time. “Put your packs, lunches, and shoes at a safe distance from the waves. I know we are all very excited to swim around, but do not lose sight of your buddy. Do not swim further out than we can see you, even with your buddy. All right, let’s go!”

The kids ran about, all wearing brightly colored swimsuits. The Muggle kids in more modern-looking numbers. Cecily had on an all black one piece with a pair of jean shorts, her hair in two thick plaits tucked behind her ears. Rolanda had a full body suit straight from the Victorian era. Something Harry had expected Severus to be wearing. But he wasn’t. To Harry’s ever so grateful surprise, Severus had on a pair of black swim trunks and a deliciously tight grey t-shirt. He looked amazing. Gorgeous. Wonderful. Every adjective there was, Severus embodied it. 

Harry licked his lips, squirming at Severus’ side in his own dull stripped swim trunks and an old Chudley Cannon’s shirt. “Still my buddy, Severus?”

“Not if you expect me to get in the water. If you want to flop around in the waves like a fish, you’ll be doing it with someone else.”

Harry’s eyes strayed towards Cecily, and Severus’ gaze followed. She stood at the shoreline, waves washing over her feet. As if she felt their attention, she turned her head and looked at the both of them in return. Warily, she waved at them. Harry wiggled his fingers back at her. Severus huffed, turned back to the ocean. Harry cleared his throat and knocked his shoulder against Severus’. 

“I don’t know, Sev. It’s very warm out here, and you don’t have your wand.” Harry grinned at the little wrinkle of disgruntlement that formed between Severus’ eyebrows. “I think you’ll be desperate to splash about soon enough.”

Severus glanced around, bent towards Harry’s ear, and whispered, deep and rumbly, “Just because you’ve had your cock in my mouth does not give you leave to call me by that name.”

“Jesus Christ.” Harry’s cock had leapt to attention at its mention. “Where exactly do I have to stick it to be granted permission?”

Severus backed away, rolling his eyes. “I’ll let you know if it ever happens.”

“I have a very keen awareness of my cock’s activities. I might be able to tell all on my own.”

Severus scoffed, dropped his pack next to the kids’, and toed off his boots. Harry copied him, the sand searing the bottoms of his feet. He high-stepped his way to edge of the water. Groaning in relief when the water just barely washed over the tops of them. Severus followed him over, his too-white feet shining beneath the surface of the lapping waves. Except for the tops of toes, which were graced with tufts of black hairs. Surprising, given how lightly furred his arms and legs were, and leaving Harry to wonder about his chest and belly. Harry’s hand had skimmed both areas, but he’d yet to get a look at it. Maybe tomorrow morning. 

Harry kicked a bit of water in Severus’ direction. “I am more than happy to work at earning the privilege.”

Severus arched an eyebrow, but kept his eyes out on the kids swimming around. 

“Just…just so you, you know, know.” Harry squeezed his eyes closed, opening them, sighed. “It’s only, you seemed mad yesterday, and I want you to know that I feel, I mean, good. Yeah, good. So.”

“Shut up, Potter.”

“Right.”

Severus lifted his chin. “I see the situation clearly. There’s no need to dissect it.”

Harry opened his mouth, closed it. “Right.”

“My apologies for my reaction yesterday.” Harry’s head snapped towards Severus. The man rolled his shoulders. “I would rather this not effect the professional association we’ve cultivated.”

“Professional association. Right. Well, you should probably not whisper the word cock into my ear again then.”

“No.” Severus shook his head, the curling tips of his dark hair brushing his shoulders. “I meant…” His mouth hung open. He blinked several times in a row as Harry waited on tenter hooks to find out exactly what he meant. He waited long enough that he decided that Severus, in fact, had no idea what he meant. 

Harry grinned, tucked his chin to his chest to hide it. He brought his hand up to Severus’ shoulder, squeezed once, and left it there. “’t’s alright. I only wanted to be sure that you knew I liked it. Liked you.”

Severus flinched. 

Harry’s brow furrowed. “I suppose you could already tell I did.”

“If we could stop discussing it, that would be fantastic.”

“I only want for you to not get the wrong impression. You know,” Harry nodded his head towards Cecily, “about that.”

“I assure you I have, indeed, deduced everything that needs deducing.”

“Oh, good. Excellent.” Harry’s fingers curled and uncurled. “I knew you would, being that you are so clever and all.”

Severus sighed, lifted his chin. Sweat beaded across his forehead, dampened the edges of his hairline. Harry wiped at his own damp face as he watched the students skip, swim, and float around in the refreshing-looking water. 

“What would I have to do to get you to just stand, like calf-high, in the water with me?”

Severus brushed a finger through the sweat gathering above his top lip. 

“It’s so hot, Sev.”

Severus clicked his tongue. 

“Come on.” Harry pressed his hands together, stepped in front of Severus, and gave him his best puppy eyes. “Please.”

“I’m not—”

“I know, you are not here to camp, but I can see that you are hot. And I am hot. And that water looks bloody lovely. Please, for my health, for yours, let’s get in the water. Would you truly rather pass out in front of the students then get in the water?”

His lip curled. 

“You can sit in the shallows. Back straight, legs crossed. Very dignified. I will personally tackle anyone that so much as thinks about splashing you.” 

Severus took a step forward and then another, and another. Harry skipped after him. Just past where the waves began to break, they both settled down into the water, Harry with his legs stretched out in front of him, Severus with his crossed neatly in front of him. It was just as glorious as Harry knew it would be. 

Harry laid back, dipped his head into the water, held his nose, and submerged his entire body under. He reemerged, slowly, the cool water sliding off his overheated skin. His shirt clung to his skin. 

“Christ, that is so much better.”

Severus’ eyes drifted down and up before he licked his lips and turned them forward. “What made you finally decide to fix your eyesight?”

“Auror training. They would always end up knocked or spelled off me. I used the Muggle laser treatment. It’s weird that wizards haven’t come up with anything yet.”

“Wizards aren’t the most progressive. If they find a solution, ie glasses, they tend to stick with it. We simply need to look at Rolanda’s swimsuit, for example.”

Harry chuckled, leaning back on his hands. Severus shifted on his arse, glancing at Harry again. Harry smiled at him. Severus’ mouth twitched. The water lapped against the man’s slender hips, wetting the bottom of his shirt. It took all of Harry’s willpower not to run a hand under it, find smooth skin. Severus’ knees stuck up out of the water, blinding white. Mostly. 

Harry nudged his thigh against Severus’ knee. “What happened there?”

Severus traced a finger along the edge of a red, puckered scar before covering it with his hand. “Just a burn. A potions accident, decades ago.”   

“I have one like that.” Harry dragged his shirt up to his chest. “Right over my heart.”

Severus twisted to have a closer look at the oval-shaped scar the locket had left behind. “There’s an ’S’ in the middle of it.”

“Slytherin’s Locket. Hurt like hell. Hermione had to cut it off me with a severing charm.” He glanced down at Severus’ throat, criss-crossed with pink scars. “I have this too.”

Harry pulled his hand from the water, showed him the words Umbridge had had him carve into his own skin. Severus ran his thumb over the curving edges. Brought his hand to his stomach. He said, quietly, “I have more. Ones you haven’t seen.”

“Me too. It’s fine.” Harry smiled, shook his head. “It’s all fine. We’re perfectly safe now, yeah?”

Severus leaned back next to Harry, nodding, and shuffled a bit closer. Together, they watched the kids, the Wizarding World’s next generation, splash, swim, and play without a care in the world. Harry wiggled his feet in the water and tilted his face up into the sun. 

Chapter Text

Day Six

A bird twittered somewhere in the trees above, lilting and cheerful. The sun was rising, turning the walls of their tent from the dull grey of shadows to the bright blue of the fabric. Severus snored against Harry’s shoulder. Harry toyed with the ends of the man’s hair, twisting the silky strands around his fingers before letting them fall back down. 

Severus’ leg was draped over Harry’s thigh, his calf tucked between Harry’s knees. He was not nestled up to Harry’s sleeping bag this morning, but fully wrapped up inside it. Harry did not know how it had happened, but it could only have been intentional. The previous day spent in the sun and water had Harry fast asleep, curled inside his sleeping bag, long before Severus had even returned from the showers. At some point between then and now, Severus had unzipped it and slid inside the cozy space. A truly fantastic turn of events, in his opinion. 

Severus snuffled, pressing his nose into Harry’s collarbone. Harry placed a lingering kiss to his temple. The man’s face wrinkled up adorably as he tightened his hold around Harry’s middle. Harry smiled, closed his eyes, and sighed contentedly. Determined to soak in every bit of this moment, from the citrus, herbal scent of Severus’ soap to the warm weight of his body to the soft rumble of his breathing. He only had two more mornings of waking up with Severus in his arms. Who knew what would happen once they were back at Hogwarts? Certainly not him.

Harry grazed his fingers down the curve of Severus’ shoulder and back up again to the smooth, ridged skin of his throat. Felt the flutter of his pulse before cradling the man’s face against the palm of his hand. One finger traced the whorl of Severus’ ear while others threaded into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Harry’s thumb brushed at the plump edge of his bottom lip. Harry ached to kiss his mouth, to feel the slick glide of their tongues, the humid meeting of their breaths, but he also couldn’t bring himself to break the simple quiet of this space. He’d never in his life wanted another person in this way. So painfully, so wholly. It unmoored him. He’d never be able to go back to an existence that didn’t include touching Severus. 

With a breathy, contented sigh of his own, Severus tilted his face up towards Harry’s. His eyelids slowly parted. He blinked as his eyes focused in on Harry. 

Harry nuzzled his nose to Severus’, pulled back, and said, “Good morning, Sev.”

Severus clicked his tongue against his teeth and buried his face against Harry’s throat. He mumbled, “Stop it.”

“You secretly love it.”

“I really don’t, Harold.”

A laugh burst from Harry. “That is not my name.”

“Sev isn’t mine.”

Harry, a smile spreading across his face, whispered, “Fair enough,” against the top of the man’s head. Harry thought he might love Severus in this moment. He was pretty sure he did, actually. 

He tipped Severus over onto his back, threw a leg over the man’s hips, and descended on him, kissing him fiercely, channeling all of the emotions threatening to leap out from his lips into action. He aligned their hips and rolled his. With a groan, Severus clutched at Harry and met him thrust for thrust.

Harry pushed up until he sat straddling Severus’s waist between his thighs. Severus looked up at him with hooded eyes. His chest rising and falling with each panted breath. “You’re fucking beautiful like this, Severus.”

“So you’ve said.” Severus’ hands gripped Harry’s legs, holding him in place. His thumbs rubbed circles against Harry’s inner thigh and Harry canted his hips into the touch. Severus’ fingers crept upwards, tugged at the hem of Harry’s shirt. “Take this off. Let me see you.”

Harry obeyed, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the side. The cold air prickled his skin, breaking it out in gooseflesh and making his nipples go taut. Harry shivered then nodded his chin at Severus’ shirt. “Your turn.”

Severus sat up, pulling his arms from the jumper he’d slept in. Harry helped him by yanking it off over his head. Severus laid back down on the tangle of blankets and sleeping bags, looking warily up at Harry. His skin was pale and smooth, except for a long scar that ran down from a nipple, crossing his stomach, wrapping around his flank, and ending in a bundle of pink scar tissue over his kidney. Harry was dying to know what happened, but didn’t want to poke at any unpleasant memories. Especially not when he had the man spread out beneath him, hard and wanting, and definitely not when he had that look in his eyes, as though he were awaiting some kind of judgement. 

Harry bent low and kissed his lips, kissed the hollow of his throat, kissed his sternum. He sat back up, combed his fingers through the scattering of hair across Severus’ chest, trailed them down the man’s center, and brought them to rest against the solid flat of his belly. 

Severus wrapped his hands around Harry’s middle. The man’s long fingers brushed the small of Harry’s back while his palms warmed Harry’s sides and his thumbs rubbed at the sharp ridges of his hip bones. He pulled at Harry, shifting his weight, until the man’s hard cock found the crease of his arse and nestled in. 

Severus bit his bottom lip between crooked teeth. His fingers burrowed their way into the back of Harry’s pants, pulling them down and bearing Harry’s arse to the chill air. He squeezed a cheek in each hand and Harry’s cock strained against the front of his pyjama bottoms. 

With a moan, Harry leaned down, a hand on each side of Severus’ face, and kissed him. 

“There are children about you know.”

Harry stilled, tongue half inside Severus’ mouth. Severus went wide-eyed and rigid beneath him. 

Rolanda continued, a smile in her voice, “Breakfast is ready, boys, whenever you are finished.”

Her footsteps shuffled off, and, with his cheeks burning red, Harry tucked his face into the crook of Severus’ neck with a muttered, “Oh my god.”

Severus huffed and wrapped his arms around Harry’s back. 

Harry said, “We forgot to be quiet.”

“Evidently.”

“What do you think they heard?”

“Enough to get the general idea, most likely.”

“We weren’t that loud.”

“Thank Merlin.”

Harry pushed up and kissed Severus once more, a quick press of their lips. “I guess today’s fun time is over.”

Severus sighed and swatted at Harry’s side. Harry pulled his pants back up over his bottom and swung his leg back over, settling down in his nest of blankets. Severus rolled away from Harry. He grabbed his jumper and pulled it back on. Harry watched as the man gathered himself and his toiletries. Severus crawled towards the entrance and Harry grabbed his ankle. 

“Hey.” Harry waited until Severus had turned back to him. He took the man’s face between his hands and kissed him, again. Severus arched an eyebrow at Harry as he pulled back. “Just one more to get me through the day.”

Severus rolled his eyes, but kissed him once more before leaving. 

Harry flopped onto his back, a grin splitting his face. 

**********

No one gave Harry any looks over breakfast. Well, no one except Rolanda, who kept winking at him and smiling with all of her teeth. Harry swallowed a spoonful of yoghurt mixed with granola and, cheeks burning, smirked back. Severus huffed and met no one’s gaze. 

Cecily seemed charmingly confused, her brow wrinkled and her chuckle stilted. “So,” she began. “The plan for the day. We’ll be doing some crafts this morning. I’ve brought paints and pads of paper. The kids will be using bits and bobs they find in nature as painting utensils. Sticks and leaves as brushes, you know?”

Severus folded his empty banana peel into a neat wad. “Do you teach Muggle Studies or Caveman Studies?” 

“Sounds fun,” Harry said. 

Cecily turned a grateful look his way. “The kids usually love it.”

“Don’t forget the Scavenger Hunt set up,” Rolanda said. “We can send the boys off into the woods together to hide everything.” She leered. “Just the two of them.”

“Yeah. This afternoon, maybe.” Cecily’s eyes darted between the three of them. “If that’s okay with you guys.”

“Absolutely,” Harry said. “Whatever you need.”

After breakfast cleanup, the kids went off into the woods to gather things for arts and craft time. Cecily was right; they did seem genuinely excited at the prospect of painting with twigs and things. So excited it was infectious. Harry picked up a couple things himself, a bunch of little flowers, a bristly bundle of pine needles, and a rock. 

Severus watched, eyebrow arched, as Harry set up his supplies at a table amongst the children. The man sat by himself at another one of the picnic tables, legs crossed primly and chin propped up on one fisted hand, his other hand wrapped around a tin mug of coffee. Harry smiled at him and sat down.

“You are a brave, brave man,” was whispered into his ear.

Harry turned his head to watch Rolanda sit down next to him. “That’s what people tell me.”

“Gryffindor.” She laced her hands together on the table. “Just to calm your blushes, I’m the only one that heard you two.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped. “Thank Merlin.”

“Hm. I am going to let Severus continue to suffer, not knowing. Serves him right for doing the bare minimum this week.”

Harry laughed and dipped one of the flowers into a puddle of red paint. 

Cecily sat down on Harry’s other side. “What’s funny?”

“Severus,” Rolanda said.

“Oh.” Cecily lined a pile of sticks up next to a piece of paper. “I really don’t think he likes me.”

Harry said, “He doesn’t like anyone.”

“He likes some people,” Rolanda added, standing up, ruffling Harry’s hair, and marching off to break up a group of students fighting over an enormous leaf. Harry watched her leave, willed himself not to go red, again, and turned his attention back to his painting.

Cecily knocked her shoulder against Harry. Harry smiled and knocked back. He felt a bit sorry for her. She was young and pleasant and clever. She hadn’t gone to Hogwarts as a student though, and she didn’t have all of the history Harry had with the staff. Most of them were more than co-workers to Harry. It must have been hard for her coming onboard without either people she knew or peers she could relate to. Harry was the closest thing she had, and he had used her to needle at Severus. It really was badly done of him. There was no reason they couldn’t be friends.

“I really wouldn’t worry about Severus,” Harry said. “I’ve known him for ages. We’ve literally saved each other, back and forth, dozens of times, and he still barely stands me.”

Cecily chuckled. They both looked over at Severus. Severus looked at them in return, eyes narrowed and mouth pursed. Harry shook his head, gave a half-smile, and turned back to Cecily.

“What are you painting?”

She tilted her head towards Harry, looking up at him through her lashes. “I don’t know. I was just going to feel it out.”

“Good plan.” Harry’s eyes drew lines between her freckles. She had an adorable spray of them across her nose. Cecily really was lovely. Maybe to make up for his bad behavior Harry could set her up with someone. He’d never done anything like that before, but, with things going so well with Severus over the last twenty-four hours, Harry was feeling pretty inspired to pass the love around. He smiled down at her. “A very good plan.”

Harry let his eyes drift over to Severus again, but the man was gone. Harry’s brow wrinkled as he searched the area, but could find neither hide nor hair of him. He’d vanished. 

**********

Harry adjusted the straps on his backpack, shifting and tugging until they settled on his shoulders just right. He stood waiting for Severus at the trailhead to the lake, the one they’d hiked to the other day. Cecily had given him a bag of trinkets, a compass, and a list of hiding places for the scavenger hunt. The students had all of tomorrow, until the last campfire of the trip, to find everything. 

Then, the morning after, they’d all be off back home to Hogwarts. An event which both thrilled and terrified Harry. A part of his soul would whither and die if Severus went back to ignoring him once they were back to their day-to-day reality. He wouldn’t be surprised though, which was why he was also terrified. 

Severus trudged up beside Harry with a drawn out sigh and curved shoulders. He had on his black boots, now caked with mud from the rains, dark jeans, and a black t-shirt with a faded band logo on the front. 

“Let’s get this over with.”

Well, what a bundle of sunshine he was this afternoon. Harry eyed him as they started walking away from camp. “Is there something specifically wrong, or are you just being your usual cheery self?”

Severus grunted and picked up his pace. 

Harry had to skip to catch up, then stretch his stride until his thigh muscles burned to match the man’s speed. “Have I done something?”

“Not everything is about you, Potter.”

“So someone else has done something?”

“Drop it.”

Harry pressed his lips together, fought back a few choice words, and unfolded Cecily’s instructions instead. “Fine. The first item is meant to go in the hollow of a tree near where we stopped for a water break.”

The campsite disappeared behind them. They rose above the thick canopy of the forrest, the clear blue sky spreading out above them. The sun sunk from its zenith and had begun making its way toward the distant shoreline. Harry peeked down the steep embankment on their left side as they kept moving forward in silence. A silence that dragged on and on and became more and more awkward the farther and farther they travelled from camp.

Another warm day had gone a long way towards drying up the puddles all of the rain showers had left behind, but Harry’s feet still sunk and stuck into the random muddy spots that lingered in the shadows of trees. The Idiot’s Guide to Camping had had loads to say about camping in foul weather. Harry’d forgotten most of it already. He’d rather have access to his wand and a good old drying charm. 

Harry glanced over at his still-brooding companion and decided to give conversation one more go. “I’m itching to get my wand back.” Severus kept his eyes forward. Harry continued, “It’s not natural to go this long without using magic.” Severus’ lips pinched at the corners. “How about you? You ready—”

“Potter, shu—”

“I don’t think I have enough fingers to track the number of times you’ve shut me up today.”

“I am attempting to enjoy the peace of nature.”

“Sure you are.” Harry bit the inside of his cheek. “My magic isn’t the only thing I am looking forward to getting back to. I don’t know if I care for camping.”

“Yes, I am very much looking forward to putting this entire tragedy behind me.”

Harry flinched. It stung, like he knew it would. But, Merlin, Severus was so up and down. From this morning until now, what could have changed this from a romance to a tragedy? Severus’ jaw tightened as Harry stared at him, assessing. 

Harry swung his gaze forward. Quietly, he said, “Well, I thought there were good moments, too. Quite nice moments, actually.”

They reached the spot where the group had stopped last time. Harry picked a tree with a dip in the trunk to tuck one of Cecily’s trinkets into. It cradled nicely in the hollow. The kids should be able to spot it, but it should also be safe from animal or element. 

Harry brushed his hands off, walked back over to Severus, and pulled out the instruction sheet. “The next clue will have the kids using their compasses. So, we are meant to head north, until the trail bends east up into the hill, then head northeast into the wooded area, eight hundred or so meters, west 100 meters, and there we are supposed to find some place to hide it.”

“This is not a two-person job.”

“We’re meant to be buddies, Sev. Remember?”

Severus growled. “Do not call me that.”

“Sorry. It just slipped out.” It had. “It’s strange how things become habit so quickly.”

“Unlearn it, Potter. Nothing that has happened on this trip will be carried forward.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Harry nodded, once, tightly, then shook his head. “I don’t understand you. This morning, and yesterday, you were perfectly all right, and now, you are being—”

“Myself. Potter. I am being myself.”

“A complete arsehole then.”

“You didn’t fancy yourself in love. Well, neither did I. A bit of meaningless fucking.” Severus arched a brow and shrugged his shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I indulge?” 

Harry molars clenched. His blood seared its way through his veins. 

Severus’ tongue licked at the corner of his mouth. “And, who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to sully the shiny, golden hero of the Wizarding World? To fuck the lauded Boy Who Lived?”

Harry’s face heated as his mouth fell open. No words came out, only stuttered breaths. His eyes pinned to Severus’. He couldn’t believe that the man had said that. He searched for some crack, some seam that allowed a glimpse into what Severus’ was thinking. 

Those could not be his genuine feelings. They just couldn’t be.

But, Severus met his eyes, hard and unyielding. He sneered, then snatched the compass from Harry’s hands and charged off up the trail. 

Harry, rooted in place, only watched him go. The stiff line of his back, the rigid rise of his shoulders. Severus knew what he said. He knew the effect it would have on Harry. He knew it was an awful, hurtful thing. 

And that is exactly why he’d said it.

Harry raced after him. 

Severus sped up. 

“How very cowardly of you, Snape.”

Severus sped up even more, practically running away from Harry. Harry may have had the shorter legs, but they were thicker, more muscular, than Severus’, from all Harry’s years of Quidditch and Auror training, and he powered forward to overtake him.

Harry grabbed Severus’ elbow and pulled. Severus threw him off, yanking it free. Harry made another grab for him, but Severus sidestepped out of the way. He stumbled. Harry leapt to reach him, then stumbled himself, his feet slipping through a muddy patch of ground. He knocked into Severus. Severus fell against him. They clutched at each other. Wobbling and tripping. Harry’s foot caught on a rock. He pitched backward. Severus’ followed, and his feet went out from underneath him.

And then they were tumbling down. 

Over the side of the cliff. Head over heels. Bumping and rolling. The world whirled by in a blur of blues, greens, and browns. His backpack strap snapped and the thing spun away. Various parts of him collided with various parts of Severus, various parts of the ground. Until, finally, they both lurched to a stop at the bottom. 

Dizzy. Scraped. Bruised. Sore as all get out. Harry groaned. He and Severus had landed in a tangle of limbs with Harry on top. He pushed himself up, flopped over to his back, and covered his face with shaking hands. 

“Fucking Christ. I can’t believe that happened.” Harry blew out a long breath. “Severus, you ok?” 

Nothing. 

“Severus?” 

Harry pulled his hands from his face and turned his head. The man was out cold beside him. 

At least, Harry hoped he was only out cold. 

Springing to his knees, Harry cradled the man’s face in both hands. Pulled Severus’ eyelids up with his thumbs. Trailed his fingers down to his throat and searched for a pulse. Harry’s breath rushed out of him when he found it, strong and steady, thudding against the lacework of scar tissue. 

“Wake up, Sev. Come on.”

Severus’ lashes twitched and fluttered. His eyes struggled open then fought to focus, shifting dazedly over Harry’s face. He gasped, winced, groaned, said, “Don’t bloody call me that,” and shoved at Harry to get off of him.

Harry didn’t. He laughed, pressed his forehead to Severus’. “Oh thank god. Thank god. I thought you’d fucking died.”

Severus pulled Harry’s face from his and brushed a thumb under Harry’s cheekbone. “You’re bleeding.”

Harry pressed his palm to his cheek, and his hand came away tacky with blood. “I’d be more surprised if we both weren’t.”

Severus grunted, dropped his arms to his sides, and closed his eyes. Harry pushed up to sitting. He craned his neck to look up at the cliff they’d fallen from. It had looked high and steep from the top, but it looked even more daunting from the bottom. Harry had no idea how they’d get back up. 

“We might have to go around. I don’t think we can go back the way we came.”

Severus tried to sit up, but his breath juddered out of him. He clutched at his ribs and, body twisted sideways, fell down to his elbows. Harry placed his hand on the man’s shoulder as Severus sucked air in and out of his nostrils. 

“You’re hurt.”

“Of course, I am fucking hurt.”

“No, I mean, yes, obviously, but the back of your head is bleeding.” 

Harry carefully lifted the tendrils of Severus’ hair, clumped together and shining darkly. A smear of blood painted the back of his neck, seeping down from his hairline and disappearing into his shirt. 

The first aid section of Idiot’s Guide to Camping rushed back to Harry. Unconsciousness after a head injury was a very bad sign. A ‘get the person to a hospital’ sign. Harry wracked his brain for the other signs.

“Are you dizzy?”

Quietly, still facing the ground, Severus whispered, “Yes.”

Another sign. “Okay. Okay. We’re going to be okay. We just need to get back to camp, get you to Hogwarts and Poppy.” Harry nodded. “Yes. That’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

And, Severus threw up. Another sign.

Harry rubbed circles against his back. Merlin, he needed to get Severus out of here. 

Harry’s hip throbbed as he wobbled his way to his feet. Harry’s eyes swept left and right. They’d fallen into the brambles and brush. There wasn’t a clearing or a trail near them. Harry’s pack was nowhere in sight, and neither was Severus’. Nothing looked familiar, which made sense seeing as how the campsite was somewhere up in the hills above. 

Severus was on his back again. His eyes closed, his breathing fast but steady. 

“Let’s get you up.” 

Harry waited until Severus nodded before he hooked his hands under the man’s armpits. Severus grabbed at his shoulders. Together they pulled him, first, sitting upright, and then slowly to his feet. Severus hissed, all of his body weight fell against Harry. Harry staggered, but wrapped his arms around Severus’ middle and dug into the ground with his heels. 

Severus, breath hot against Harry’s temple, said, “My ankle. I can’t…I think it’s broken.”

“Alright.” Harry blew out a breath. He adjusted his arms, shifted on his feet, until Severus had an arm looped over Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s arm supported him around the waist. “We’ll just take it one step at a time. It can’t be that far to a road or something.”

It turned out it was that far, or else they were more turned around than Harry’d thought. They hobbled forward, out of the bushes, over rocks and tree stumps, avoiding low branches. They were in the thick of the woods, and with no clear path, it was slow going. Extremely slow going. They walked for ages and ages. Harry thought maybe they should have just stayed put, waited for Cecily and Rolanda to come find them instead. But it was too late for that now.

Severus put in a valiant effort, but his ankle was completely buggered. He couldn’t put weight on it for more than a second without crying out. His head obviously bothered him too. Every fifteen minutes or so he’d stop, close his eyes, and press his face, hard, into the warm hollow of Harry’s throat. Harry couldn’t do anything but hold him close and wait it out.

The sun reached the horizon line and melted below it. Everything turned orange and fiery before going grey and then dark. And cold. Gooseflesh rose on Harry’s bare arms. Severus shivered against him. 

Harry tripped over something. He had no idea what; it was too dark. He wrapped his body around Severus and twisted as they both tumbled to the ground. Harry landed on the fleshy part of his hip and arse, Severus on top of him, knocking the air from his lungs and radiating pain out from his side and down his leg. 

All of the life went out of Harry, his body splaying out in the dirt and grass of the forrest floor.

“This is ridiculous.” Severus groaned and curled up against him. “Go ahead. Leave me. Find camp. Come back with a wand.”

“I am not leaving you alone in the woods with a head injury. Don’t be an idiot.” Harry hugged Severus’ body to him, shifted until they were both settled on their sides. “We’ll just take a break here.”

“Harry.”

“Stop. I’m not leaving you.” Harry ran his fingers through the matted strands of Severus’ hair. Pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Give me a minute and I’ll get us back on our feet.”

Everything hurt. All of the aches and pains from the fall woke up now that Harry’s body was still. Harry ignored it. Pictured the roaring campfire. S’mores. Their tent with its cozy sleeping bags. 

“Harry.” Severus’ voice, barely a whisper, drew his name out.

“Shh. It’s alright. Just one more minute.”

 Another minute passed. Then another. Then ten more. 

Then, Severus snored, raspy and rumbling. His body lax and pliant against Harry even while his fingers were clenched in Harry’s shirt. Harry tucked the man under his chin and turned his face up to the star-speckled sky above. They weren’t getting any farther tonight. 

Chapter Text

Day Seven

“Potter.”

Everything on Harry hurt. Absolutely everything.

“Potter.”

On top of the thudding ache pulsing through his muscles, the sharp point of something was digging into his ribcage. Something else scratched at the bare skin of his neck and arms. The forrest floor. He was sleeping outside. Harry groaned and shifted, arching his body away from the ground. A cool palm mantled his cheek, softly, carefully avoiding a stinging mark beneath his eye. Harry turned his head, pressed into the touch. 

“Potter, wake up.”

“Severus?” 

Severus. 

Harry’s eyes snapped open. He flinched at the sudden onslaught of light, but fought through it to squint at the shadow above him. Severus, clear-eyed but pale, looked down at him. Harry pushed up onto an elbow, dislodging Severus’ palm. Harry ran his fingers across Severus’ brow then down the curve of his cheek to his jawline, dodging scrapes and bruises. 

“How are you feeling? How’s your head?”

Severus tilted his head side to side. “Better.”

“Dizzy at all?”

“No.”

Harry didn’t think Severus was completely in the clear concussion-wise, but that seemed like a good sign to him. Harry exhaled, shoulders easing, and he smiled. Severus blinked twice and looked away. 

The sun was just rising, shafts of yellow light streamed through the trees around them. The ground beneath Harry was wet with dew. The air still held the chill of the long night. Harry was grimy and dirty, and, even though dehydration must be settling in, he had to piss. Severus probably did too.

“God, I’m hungry,” Harry said, sitting up. He brushed at the rocks and leaves and such that had burrowed their way into his skin while he’d slept. “And cold. I should have looked harder for our packs. I didn’t expect us to spend the night in the woods.”

Severus, wincing, sat up beside Harry, aligning their thighs together. “You should have left me.”

“You know I wouldn’t have.” Harry shook his head and slowly got to his feet. He’d give up his best broom for a pain potion right about now. He reached down to take Severus’ hands. Severus’ lips tightened, but he took them. Harry hoisted the man to his feet. He made sure Severus was stable before pointing at him and ordering, “Stay.”

Severus probably would have thrown Harry some snappy retort or a classic Snape scowl if at that exact moment he hadn’t wobbled, caught himself with one hand on a tree, and lifted up his injured ankle. Harry reached out with both arms raised and stepped closer to him, but Severus waved him off with his free hand. 

“I’m fine. I need a moment’s privacy, please.”

Harry limped backwards away from him, nodding. Stiff from a night on the ground, Harry’s hip ached, each step sending a throb of pain down his leg. He walked far enough away that they’d both have some privacy, but not so far that he wouldn’t hear if Severus needed him. 

Harry zipped back up when he was done. He closed his eyes and waited, giving Severus whatever time he required. Harry breathed in the cool morning air, the world smelling of wood and sap and dirt. He opened his eyes with a sigh. He couldn’t bloody wait to be back at Hogwarts tomorrow. With his fluffy, clean bed, his cramped en suite, and, Merlin, his wand. Muggle camping was for the birds. He’d be burning the Idiot’s Guide in his fireplace straight away. He’d cheer it off to ash with a sifter of fire whiskey. 

When Harry returned to Severus, the man had both forearms folded against the tree, his forehead pressed up against them. The back of his shirt was torn, revealing a pale patch of skin. His jeans were filthy, caked with mud and leaves. His hair was clumped and matted. Harry wasn’t much better off, but at least he was fully upright. 

“Severus?”

“I can’t put any weight on it.”

Harry looked down at the leg Severus still had lifted off the ground and said, “We’ll go slow.”

“Just leave me. Go.”

“Shut up. You know I won’t.”

“Of course.” Severus turned his head to glare. “Harry Potter, always playing the hero. Everyone’s favorite bloody savior.”

“Stop it. I’m not playing at anything. I only want to help you.”

Severus scoffed. “The consummate martyr. I am perfectly safe out here. It’s a lovely spring day in Cornwall, not the middle of Mordor.”

“Severus, I don’t care if we were stuck in some lah-dee-dah Candyland. We will hobble out of this bloody forrest together. You are important to me. I fucking care about you. Probably because I am just as stupid as you constantly say. I’m certainly showing some frighteningly masochistic tendencies at the moment.” Harry scrubbed at his face. “All I wanted to do this whole ridiculous trip was impress you. I just wanted you to like me. It’s pathetic and, yes, you know, maybe I actually do have a bit of a savior thing, but I wouldn’t leave you to suffer alone for anything in the world. Especially not you, not if I could help it. There are many things I would do for you that I would never do for anyone else. And the last few days have not been nothing to me. You have always meant something more to me. What you thought about me always meant something more to me. Always. Even before, when I didn’t like you very much.” Harry took a breath. “So. Just, stop trying to make me leave you here.”

Severus’ eyes were wide, his lips parted, his eyebrows up near his hairline. Shocked silent. Harry’d laugh if he wasn’t experiencing the single most embarrassing moment of his life. What was he thinking confessing all of that to Severus? The man had already told him he didn’t care one way or the other about how Harry felt.   

Harry, hands on hips, twisted his head to the side, away from Severus’ gaze and out towards the ever-brightening landscape. A bird let out a long, tinkling whistle. A small animal shuffled around in the undergrowth. Harry turned back to Severus. His expression had not changed. 

“Look, don’t worry about it.” Harry scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Forget everything I just said. Let’s get moving, alright?” 

Severus, silent, watched Harry approach. He didn’t fight as Harry hiked his arm up over his shoulders, as he wrapped an arm around Severus’ slim waist. Harry guided them over a fallen tree, around a boulder, avoiding patches of mud and thorny scrub. All the while, Severus’ eyes burned a hole in the side of Harry’s head. 

“Potter,” Severus whispered. “I think I’ve made a mistake.” 

“I know. It’s fine.” Harry tightened his fingers reassuringly around Severus’ waist. “We can pretend that none of this happened. I promise I won’t ever mention the last few days to you again.”

“No. No, that’s not…” Severus stumbled, but Harry had a good grip on him. He hefted him closer as Severus continued, “I can’t fathom why you’d care if I liked you. Since the war, over the last decade, I’ve only ever been thankful we’ve managed to refrain from offing each other. I have never been concerned about whether you held me in any particular regard.”

“Yes. You made your disinterest more than obvious.”

“Disinterest.” Severus shook his head. “No. Never that. You are never not somewhere in the periphery, if not at the very center, of my attention. You have lingered there so long I could not imagine it any other way.” He took a breath. “You had seemed to make peace with the role I’d played in your life thus far. Neither angry nor bitter. No longer vindictive or hateful. It was more than enough for me. More than I expected. More than I could ask for. I had no desire to rock the boat, so to speak.”

“So, you’ve more or less ignored me for seven years?”

“Yes.”

“I hate it.”

“I’m baffled, utterly baffled, by your desire for me to like you.”

“You are amazing, Severus. How could I not want the respect of a man like you?”

The leaves crunched and slithered under their shuffling steps. The trees thinned around them until finally a trail appeared, bisecting the woods. Harry directed them left onto it. They moved much quicker after. 

“What about Brunswork?”

“I’m not interested in Cecily. I flirted with her a bit to get a rise out of you. Because I am a terrible person sometimes. I’m not the sparkling hero everyone thinks. Well, everyone but you.” Harry smirked at Severus then sobered, shaking his head. “I can’t date someone soft and sweet. I would ruin someone like that.”

“You would not.”

“Ginny loathed me by the end.”

“The Weasley girl is not soft.”

“No, but I was still too much for her at the end of it. I have days…days when I am not okay. When everything comes back too keenly. I’m not good at thinking about other people then. I can be rude, and angry. I’m not good at being open or vulnerable. I try, but I just can’t sometimes, you know? There’s too much. It’s too hard.”

Severus adjusted his arm around Harry’s shoulders, shifting his weight. 

“I would say hurtful things to get her to leave me alone.” Harry peeked at the man and said, “I hate the things you said yesterday. I understand, but I hate that you maybe think you have to say those things to protect yourself from me.”

Severus scowled and didn’t meet Harry’s eyes. 

“Or maybe you did mean them. Maybe I’m reading it wrong. Did you mean them?”

“Harry!” A shout. Quiet and far off. “Harry! Severus!”

Harry and Severus stopped, exchanged a glance, and then sped forward, hobbling and limping. 

Harry shouted back, “Here! We’re here!” They made their way around a bend in the trail and spotted Cecily and Rolanda running towards them. Cecily leapt at Harry, wrapping her arms around his neck and jostling Harry’s grip on Severus. Harry clenched his fingers in the man’s t-shirt to keep him in place.

“Oh, Merlin, Harry,” she said against his ear. She pulled back, her hands on his shoulders. “I was so worried.”

Harry, relieved, smiled. “We’re fine.”

Her eyes darted over Harry then moved to Severus. “You don’t look fine.”

“I’ve been worse.”

“Looks like you had quite the tumble.” Rolanda made to take Severus from Harry, but Harry tightened his hold, bringing Severus back in close. Rolanda dropped her hands and smirked. “We searched the lake trail all night. Had to call in Minerva and Hagrid to watch the students.”

Cecily pulled two wands out of her pack, Harry’s and Severus’. “When the sun came up, we were able to spot the place it looked like you fell, but then you weren’t there at the bottom so we guessed you must have started walking back.”

“That’s exactly what happened.” Harry took his wand and instantly felt lighter. His blood sang and settled. He blew out a breath as he started doing healing charms on himself. “I didn’t realize how far off from camp we were.”

Severus pointed his wand at his ankle, hissed. His foot shook as he tried to move it around in a circular motion. “I need potions.”

“You need more than just potions,” Harry said. “Severus has a head injury.”

The man clicked his tongue, like Harry’d just snitched on him. Harry rolled his eyes. Severus pulled himself from Harry’s arms, bounced on his heels, testing his ankle more, and grimaced. He stumbled and reached back out for Harry, but Rolanda caught him. She took him by the chin, peered into his eyes, and said, “We need to get you back to Hogwarts then. No more camping for you.”

Severus dropped his arms. “What a pity.”

“I think you had an absolutely fantastic time, Severus.” Rolanda winked as Severus’ cheeks pinked. She hooked her elbow in Severus’. “I’ll apparate with you. Don’t want you to splinch yourself. Might make Harry cry.”

Harry locked eyes with Severus. “I’ll pack all your things up and bring them back to you tomorrow.”

Severus nodded, holding his gaze. His eyes darted to Cecily then back to Harry. “I didn’t.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. 

“Mean them. I didn’t mean them.”

“Oh.” Harry’s mouth tugged up on one side. “Good.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

With one final nod, Rolanda apparated Severus off to Hogwarts. Harry stared at the empty spot, at the dirt whirling up in the wake of their magic. 

It was good that Severus hadn’t meant those things. That he’d not only slept with Harry for the thrill of being with the Boy Who Lived, or that there was no emotion behind what they did.

It still stung though, and, it didn’t change the fact that he’d said them, or even just thought them. Harry knew how words lingered, even ones that weren’t true. He knew the damage they could do. He didn’t want to go through that again, either as the speaker or the one spoken to. There were enough hurtful things that were true, they didn’t need to make up lies to fling at each other as well. 

He’d spent enough of his short life untangling people’s words and intentions. He’d been lied to, manipulated, and used. Harry refused to meekly allow someone he cared about put him in that situation again. Even someone like Severus. Severus needed to respect him enough to be honest with him. He needed to trust Harry enough. 

It wouldn’t be easy. For either of them.

But if Harry had any chance of being happy, he needed to be respected and loved for himself, as an equal. He needed to be seen as a whole person. Harry was more than his reputation. He was less than it too. Severus’ understanding of Harry was so painfully skewed. They couldn’t pursue the sort of relationship Harry wanted them to pursue if he really thought so little of Harry, if he misunderstood the core of him. 

Severus had to trust Harry not to hurt him. They could be nothing if he didn’t both respect Harry and feel respected by him back. They needed to be able to see each other and be seen without being afraid the other would hurt them or walk away. 

Cecily cleared her throat. “You ready to head back?”

“Just let me do one more spell.” Harry pointed his wand at his hip and cast an anti-inflammatory charm. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. It still ached, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t mostly ignore. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 They walked in silence, but from the corner of his eye Harry saw Cecily sneaking looks at him. The trail ended and met a road that went uphill. There were Muggle road signs indicating the camp site entrance was at the top. 

“Will you be able to make the climb?” Cecily asked, and after Harry nodded, she continued, “Where did you sleep last night?”

“The ground.”

“Eep.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Cold, I bet.”

“Yeah. Severus and I shared body heat though, so that helped.”

“Oh.”

Harry flattened his fringe. He should probably apologize to her, but he didn’t really know what to say to make it better. It’d been rotten of him to lead her on though, and he really did like her, so he had to muster up an effort. “I know it’s hard to make friends at Hogwarts, what with us being so much younger than the other staff, and then also being surrounded by teenagers, but, you know, I am always around for a tea or something. I would love to be friends, Cecily.”

Her mouth twisted to one side before turning into a smile. “I’d like that. Also, please feel free to introduce me to some other wizards. Available ones. I love teaching, but that castle is bloody lonely.”

“Yeah, it can be.”

She bumped shoulders with him. “Less for you now, I suppose.”

Harry grinned at her then turned his eyes to the road ahead.

**********

Harry, showered and covered in healing charms, cocooned himself up in his sleeping bag. He had Severus’ blanket layered over the top and tucked up snuggly beneath his chin. It smelled like the man, citrus and herbal. Harry closed his eyes with a sigh, wishing the man was cocooned in their bedding here with him. 

The tent felt bigger, practically cavernous. And cold, and quiet. The students were all tucked away in their tents. Rolanda and Cecily were off in theirs. Minerva had left as soon as he and Cecily had returned and explained about Severus. She’d been eager to check in on him back at Hogwarts. Harry’d had to restrain himself from joining her. Hagrid had stayed through dinner and the campfire, singing the loudest of all of them and finishing off the last of the s’more supplies. They didn’t have a tent big enough for him or he would have been happy to stay all night.

Harry missed Severus. The man was probably already back in his quarters in the dungeon. Passed out and snoring away in his plush, cozy bed. Maybe Harry’d be sharing that bed with him tomorrow night. Harry smiled and shuffled deeper into his sleeping bag nest. 

If Severus wanted to share his proper bed with Harry. 

Harry’s eyes popped open. Just because the man didn’t mean it when he’d said he’d only tried Harry out for a quick tumble, didn’t mean he wanted Harry to be his boyfriend. 

Boyfriend? Partner? 

Severus seemed like a person that would use partner. 

He shouldn’t assume anything about the other man though. That was how they got themselves into this tangled mire to begin with. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would find Severus first thing. He’d tell Severus, openly and completely, what he wanted. Then, he’d gently pry Severus’ feelings for him out as well. They could go from there. 

It would all work out. 

It had to.

Harry bit his lip and stared at the ceiling. Scenarios of how it would play out looped through his head. He didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep for a long while, but the events of yesterday, last night, and this morning had him out like a light and sleeping like a baby in no time at all. 

Chapter Text

Home Again, Home Again

Harry woke up just as lonely and cold as he had been when he went to sleep. The sun was rising outside, burning away the shadows in his tent as birds chirped above him and students chattered around him. He snuggled with the pillow Severus had left behind. It wasn’t the same. At all. It smelled nice, like Severus, but it was too soft. Harry tossed it away and sat up. The sooner he got out of bed and moving, the sooner he’d see Severus again. 

And, Merlin, did he want to see Severus again. He ached for it. His skin itched with the need to be in the man’s presence. A restlessness crawled up his spine, making his limbs twitchy. He needed to know where they stood. Where they were going.

He folded Severus’ blanket and placed it on top of the pillow. He gathered Severus’ random socks and toiletries to carefully pack away in the man’s duffel bag. Then Harry turned to his own belongings, rolling up his sleeping bag and cramming his things into his own duffel, except for his toothbrush and a change of clothes, those he carried with him as he left the tent. 

Harry waved at the students, at Rolanda and Cecily, as he made his way to the loos. Everyone was already sat eating breakfast at the picnic tables. They must have let him sleep in on account of his and Severus’ little adventure. They’d been treating him with kid gloves since they found him. He still had a few bruises that healing spells didn’t alleviate entirely, and his hip twinged if he moved wrong, but mostly he felt fine.

He took a few extra minutes to primp and preen in front of the bathroom mirror. He still had to help pack up the rest of camp, and Cecily had a closing circle event of some kind planned, but after that he’d be heading straight for Severus. He wanted to be ready. He sniffed at his shirt. It wasn’t as fresh as he hoped, but if things went well he wouldn’t be wearing it in front of Severus for too long. He smirked at himself in the mirror, then stopped and flattened his fringe. Fluffed it up again. Sighed. He grabbed all of his things and headed back to the tent. 

Harry deposited his stuff just inside the entrance and made his way over to see what was left of breakfast. The kids were all either helping clean up or wandering back to their tents now, so his expectations of anything substantial were low.

Cecily stacked cups together before tossing them into a bin bag she was carrying around. “Good morning, Harry. We saved some toast for you. All of the bacon and eggs are gone though. Sorry about that.”

Harry waved away her apology. “I’m sure the kids needed it more than me.”

“How are you feeling today?”

“Ready to get home.” He bit into a triangle of buttered toast. “Check on Severus.”

Rolanda snapped a tote of supplies shut and piled it on top of a stack of others like it. “I never would have believed I’d see the day Harry Potter missed Severus Snape. These two fought like mortal enemies back in the day, you know?”

Cecily gave a small smile. She turned away as she tied the half-full bag to a post.  

Harry poured the last of the orange juice into a plastic cup, keeping his eyes down and pushing away the stirrings of guilt. He tossed the empty jug into the bag and said, “That was a long time ago.”

“Not that long ago.” Rolanda brushed her hands off and looked around. “Seems like that’s everything here packed up. Just the tents and the students left.” 

“Then the sharing circle,” Cecily added. “Then we’ll be done.”

“Another successful trip, Brunswick.” Rolanda clapped her on the shoulder then turned to Harry. “Well. Let’s wrap this up and get you home to your man.”

**********

Harry’d never been in Severus’ quarters before. He’d never been invited. Obviously. But he knew where they were—around the corner from the man’s office and behind a painting of the Black Lake at twilight. 

The corridors were empty and quiet as most students were still home for the Easter hols, and the tread of Harry’s hiking boots echoed heavily off the walls as he jogged towards the door. He skidded to a stop in front of it. Merpeople, painted moonlight glistening off their silver scales, popped up from the surface of the lake to watch him dither and catch his breath. Harry blew out a long exhale. He rolled his shoulders back. Cast a freshening charm on his clothes. His hair. His breath. His entire person. Then, he knocked. 

The hinges creaked as the portrait was thrown open. Warm air poured out from Severus’ quarters, smelling herbal and homely. Severus grasped the edge of the portrait in one hand and the doorjamb in the other. His hair swung forward, clean and feathery. In well-tailored trousers, a black button up, and casual robes, the man’s eyes scoured Harry from head to toe. 

“You are back.”

“Yes.” Harry bounced on his heels. “How’s your head?”

“Healed.”

“And your ankle?”

“The same.”

“Great.”

“Indeed.”

Harry smiled. Severus’ mouth tipped its way towards a sort of smile too, and that was more than enough of a sign for Harry. He rushed forward, took Severus’ face in his hands, and pressed their lips together as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

Severus’ hands landed on Harry’s hips. He tilted his head with a groan, deepening the kiss. They’d not done this upright yet, and Harry couldn’t help but notice how much taller Severus was. The way their bodies tucked together. The way Severus’ body moulded itself to his. Severus surrounded him, drowned him in heat and touch.

Severus hooked his hands under Harry’s arse, hoisted him up until Harry wrapped his legs around Severus’ waist, and then shoved Harry’s back against the door. The wood grain caught on Harry’s shirt, dug into his exposed skin. Harry rolled his hips against Severus’ flat stomach, the perfect surface to grind his hardening cock against. Severus growled and rutted his hips upwards, pushing his cock into the crease of Harry’s arse. 

Severus whispered, “I’m going to fuck you, Potter,” against his mouth.

Harry gasped, throwing his head back into the door. This was how he’d imagined their reunion, how he’d wanted it to go, but he hadn’t dared to get his hopes up. Severus latched onto his throat, sucking, licking, and biting. Between panted breaths, Harry said, “God, Severus. I want that. I want everything. I want you so much. I can’t believe you want me too. I can’t believe this is happening.”

Severus stilled his hips, inched his face away from Harry’s, and stared at him. His gaze drifting from Harry’s mouth to his bobbing Adam’s apple to his warm cheeks, his scar, and finally to his eyes. Severus’ lips parted as he searched Harry’s eyes. Harry’s heart tripped over a beat in his chest. Severus closed his eyes and kissed him, softly. Harry’s eyelids fluttered shut as he pressed into it, into this gentle moment. 

Severus’ hands moved down to Harry’s thighs, his palms curving to the shape of Harry, his long fingers cradling the weight of Harry’s body. Harry circled his arms around Severus’ shoulders, held on as Severus carried him across the room, down a short hallway, and into his bedroom. Severus lowered him to the bed, never releasing Harry’s mouth. They shifted, shuffled, crawled backwards, until Harry’s head was on a pillow, until Severus was over him. His hips between Harry’s legs, his forearms on either side of Harry’s head, caging him in. 

Harry spread his hands over the solid planes of Severus’ back. Severus kissed along his jawline, pulled an earlobe between his teeth, released it to suck again at the delicate skin over the pulse point on Harry’s throat. Harry tilted his head back, moaning, to give him access. 

Harry pushed Severus’ robes from his shoulders, and Severus tossed them away over the side of the bed. Severus pushed up onto his knees, pulled Harry’s shirt up and off before descending again. He pressed his lips to the scar over Harry’s heart, moved over to a the peak of a pink nipple, circling his tongue. His clever fingers worked the other nipple, twisting and teasing and sending waves of heat down Harry’s spine. 

Harry gripped Severus’ head, his fingers lacing through the strands of fine hair as the man licked and kissed his way down Harry’s belly. From one hip bone then across to the other. Severus popped the button on Harry’s jeans. His dark eyes met Harry’s as he slowly lowered the zip. Harry pushed up to his elbows, watching, his breath rushing through his parted lips. 

Severus hooked his fingers under the waistband of Harry’s pants and yanked. With a bit of fumbling, and Severus’ help with the laces, Harry toed off his shoes, leaving Severus free to strip Harry completely bare. Severus’ tongue swiped across his bottom lip, lingered at the corner of his mouth as his eyes devoured every blessed inch of Harry’s skin. 

Harry let him, but only for a moment, before pushing up to his knees in front of Severus. He pressed his naked body against the man’s still clothed one. The fabric scratched at Harry’s nipples, at the hard length of his prick. The cool leather of the man’s belt had Harry’s stomach muscles twitching. The contrast of it, his sensitive skin against rough cloth, thrilled Harry, sent his heart thudding. Sent heat coiling tightly between his hips. 

They kissed, chaste presses mixed with slick brushes of tongue. Severus’ hands seemed to touch Harry everywhere at once, starting at his shoulders and running down the lengths of his arms, tracing a path from the line of soft hair on his belly up to his firm chest, around to the flexing muscles of his back, before settling on his arse, a cheek in each of his hands. Harry pushed back into his grip with a moan before pulling away. The need to see Severus’ skin in turn, all of it, overwhelmed him. 

Together, their fingers opened the buttons of Severus’ shirt, tangling and making the job more difficult than it needed to be, but Harry couldn’t let go of even this small point of contact. He needed everything. He needed all of Severus. Every minute part of him. 

Severus had not been lying when he said there were more scars on his body, not that Harry thought he had been, but he’d not expected the deep silver-pink line of scar tissue that ran from the bottom of his ribs across to his opposite hip, wrapping around and disappearing from Harry’s sight. 

Severus hesitated, stilled, and his eyes dropped to the small gap of space between them. Harry tilted his head, forcing their eyes to meet. He held the man’s gaze before leaning in to kiss his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Harry ran his hands down the lines of Severus’ body, bumping over the ridge of tissue, and continuing on to the buckle of his belt. A breath shuddered out of Severus as Harry undid it and tugged it free. 

“Lie down for me, Severus.” Harry released the button and clasp on his trousers. “On your back.”

Severus obeyed, lifting his hips for Harry to pull off the rest of his clothes. Harry straddled Severus’ thighs and wrapped a hand around the man’s lovely cock, the shaft thick and pink, the rosy head pushing out from the sheath of foreskin. His slit leaked a pearly drop. Harry captured it with his thumb and brought it to his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning at the bitter, musky taste. 

A breath whooshed from Severus. “Christ, Potter.”

“Do you have lube?”

He nodded his head. “In the drawer.”

Harry stretched to open it. He lifted an eyebrow at the tidy contents. Books and magazine stacked neatly with a case for glasses on top, potions jars lined up in rows, and a half-empty tub of, what looked like, homemade lube. Harry unscrewed the lid and the scent of something earthy and masculine wafted up. 

“We’ll be needing more of this,” Harry said, shifting himself back into position over Severus. 

“I’d be happy to provide.”

Harry smirked, dipping his fingers into the container and coming out with two slick fingers. He held them out to the side and leant down for a quick peck. He placed the tub on Severus’ chest. “Hold this for me, Sev.”

Severus swatted Harry’s calf before grabbing it. Harry chuckled as he rose to his knees again. Harry’s cock stood tall against his belly. It bobbed gently as Harry spread his legs and settled himself into place above Severus. Harry reached back between his own legs and Severus dropped the tub to grip Harry’s thighs. 

Harry asked, “Does it really bother you?”

“Nothing bothers me at the moment.”

Harry scoffed, then gasped as he pressed his fingers to the tight muscles of his entrance, circling slowly. “The ‘Sev’ thing.”

Severus rolled his hips, his cock brushing against Harry’s inner thigh. “It’s awfully familiar.”

“We are far more than familiar, dear.”

“So it would seem.”

Harry slid in one finger, then two, and Severus’ grip flexed around Harry’s thighs. His chest rose and fell, his mouth open, and his face slack. His gaze was hot, eager, as he watched Harry. Having those eyes on him amped up Harry’s arousal. He’d never been this turned on in his life, never, not with anyone else. Harry threw his head back, pinched a nipple, and worked himself open, fucking himself down onto his own hand.

They were more than familiar. He and Severus. Harry was not a one-night stand kind of bloke; had never been. Love, sex, affection had never been things he tossed around casually. They meant too much to him. The return of those emotions was important, essential. Harry looked down at Severus beneath him, wanton and waiting, his bottom lip trapped between his crooked teeth. Harry’s heart thumped double time. 

“Severus, say again that you didn’t mean it.”

Severus stilled. His expression turned solemn. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Say this isn’t nothing.”

“We could never be nothing. Harry. Never. You and I, together, for better or worse, are most definitely something. Always something.”

Harry swallowed around the rise of emotions in his throat. This conversation was far from over, but it was enough for now. More than enough. He shifted forward, took Severus’ cock in hand, coating it in the leftover bit of lube, and lined it up at his loosened hole. Harry steadied himself with a hand against Severus’ chest and pressed down. 

They chorused a groan as Severus’ prick filled Harry, stretched him wide. Severus’ hands slid up from Harry’s thighs to mantle his hips. His hands were so strong, so warm, and they held Harry so securely. But he didn’t rush Harry, he let Harry set the pace, gave him time to adjust to the girth of Severus’ cock. Harry circled his hips, rolled them, brought Severus in and out of his body, slowly. Heat uncoiled from Harry’s belly, crept along his limbs. His fingers trembled where they were spread wide against Severus’ pale skin. 

Harry sped up, his arse slapping down against Severus’ hips. That sound, of skin smacking against skin mixed with the slick sound of a cock fucking his hole, with their harsh breathing, with their whimpers and curses and moans. With the scent of lube, of sweat, of Severus and Harry together. Severus’ clenching abdominals, the taut stretch of his neck, his kiss-swollen lips, his heated gaze. It all filled Harry’s senses, surrounded him, enveloped him.

Harry brought a hand to his cock, squeezed. He ran the other up and down the oversensitive skin of his chest, the peaks of his nipples. He bounced on Severus’ prick until his thighs burned, until the sweet ache forced him to slow. He arched his back until he found the perfect angle, the angle that had Severus’ cock hitting his prostate, and he shouted. 

“Beautiful. Fuck, so beautiful, Harry.” Severus’ hands moved to Harry’s waist, his nails digging into Harry’s flesh. He keened, sharp and resonant, as Harry began moving again. “Harry. Say I can have you. Harry, tell me your mine.”

“Oh god. I’m yours. Yours, yours, yours.” Harry continued chanting, mindlessly, as Severus’ grip dropped to his hips and tightened, as Severus planted his feet and lifted his hips, pounding up into him, mercilessly, gloriously, perfectly. Harry’s voice cracked. “Oh. Oh, sweet fuck, Severus.”

Harry wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked. Hard, leaking, and dusky red. The head tipping towards purple as it appeared and disappeared from within the cradle of his hand. 

“My Harry. Mine. Going to fuck you every bloody day. Every fucking day. Going to ruin you.”

“Yes.” Harry hissed the last syllable, drew it out as the cords of orgasm tightened around him, as the muscles in his hole flexed around Severus’ prick, as pleasure snapped under his skin, deep between his hips, unravelling bright and hot as Harry came over his hand, over Severus’ belly.

He collapsed forward, head nestling against Severus’ throat as he rode out the rolling waves of his peak. Severus kissed his temple. Whispered comforting words, words of praise into Harry’s disheveled hair. He shifted his hips, took a firm hold of Harry’s, and resumed pounding into Harry, pulling Harry down and pushing himself up. Grunting, his mouth open and panting hotly against Harry. Harry rose on his forearms and kissed him, swallowing the sounds, making them his. 

Severus’ movement stuttered, stilled, and his come filled Harry, hot, leaking from where they were joined and pooling between them. Severus threw his head back into his pillow. Harry mouthed at the scarred throat revealed to him, soft and careful, his tongue tracing the lines and ridges up to the smooth skin beneath his jaw. He nuzzled the whorls of the man’s ear as Severus went lax under him. Severus wrapped his arms around Harry, pulled him close, and rolled them onto their sides. 

Harry trailed a finger down the side of Severus’ face, brushing his thumb across his bottom lip. “I don’t have words for how fantastic you look when you come, Severus.”

He hummed a response and pressed his lips to Harry’s, chaste and quick, before settling down. His eyes were closed. 

Harry’s weren’t. 

Harry’s darted from the dark fan of lashes against pale skin to the thick, neat lines of his eyebrows to the sharp edge of his flushed cheekbones. The red swell of his lips. The tangled tendrils of his hair. 

Harry smiled, brushed the tip of his nose against Severus’, asked, “Can I stay?”

“Yes.”

“Can I borrow your shower?”

“I hoped you would.”

Harry scoffed. Then knit his brows together and sniffed at himself. His freshening charms seemed to have reached their limit. “Sorry.”

“’s fine.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, pressed his hand over Severus’ sternum, felt the steady thrum of his heart. Harry’s skin looked golden next to Severus’. He said, “You and I together.”

Severus’ face wrinkled adorably as he pouted his lips in confusion.

“You said it, earlier, when we were…Did you mean it?”

Severus shuffled forward, kissed him, pressed their foreheads together, and, eyes still closed, he whispered, “Yes.”

Harry grinned. He kissed him once then pulled the blankets over the both of them. He snuggled his body to Severus’, finding the familiar warmth and contentment there, the one from morning’s in their tent, and Harry closed his eyes.