Reflections

Title: Reflections

Author: Irana Potter-Snape

Pairing: SS/HP

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Voldemort has been defeated and people are getting on with their lives. Harry and Severus talk at a wedding.

Snape eyed the mass of drunken fools carousing on the dance floor distastefully. Only the marriage of two Gryffindors could possibly bring forth this many loud and obnoxious prats. And of course, Albus, being who he is, would expect every one of the Professors to turn out for the wedding of two of the contributors to the death of Voldemort.

Snape snorted.

It's not as if it had taken any stretch of the imagination to see these two getting married. Weasley had been sniffing around Granger since the end of their second year when the girl got petrified. If it hadn't been for the girl's near death in the Final Battle over two years ago, they might have continued in the dance they insisted in playing for even longer. That battle had come in the middle of the first term of what would have been their seventh year, and school had been cancelled afterwards. Of course, that meant that he had to have the entire lot for another year, giving him even more time to regret his preferences as well as the fact that the bane of his existence had grown more and more to suit every requirement for a mate he'd ever had.

Somebody sank bonelessly into the chair next to him. He flinched. He needn't look to see who it was. He could smell him.

Harry Potter. The Bane himself. Snape groaned and prepared himself for whatever the man, no boy, had to say.

"I hate these things," Potter sighed.

Well, Snape had not been prepared for that. "The great Harry Potter disdains the union of his two cohorts? Surely not."

"Not that Severus, weddings in general. Here, I brought you a drink," he rushed on before the man could question that statement, holding out a glass of fire whiskey to the markedly less sallow Potions Master. Being out of the dungeons had only done him good. Not only had his skin seen some sunshine, although it was by no means tanned, his hair looked less greasy and some of lines had disappeared from his face.

Taking note of the scrutiny he was under, Severus took the glass and grimaced. "I don't recall giving you leave to use my given name Potter."

Harry sighed. Stubborn git. Damn him for being this way. "Don't you think given all we've been through, working together to defeat Voldemort and all, we should be on a first name basis? I really would prefer you call me Harry."

"Fine...Harry." Snape emphasized the name, not because he loathed it, but because he enjoyed saying it so much he was horrified. As if Potter, no Harry, would ever want him.

Harry shivered at the sound of his name in that silky voice. What he wouldn't give to hear it whispered with passion. Hell, he'd take simple affection.

He smiled at Severus. Damned if I'm calling him Professor Snape! "There, that wasn't so bad was it Severus?"

Snape gave Harry one of his patented glares. Harry snorted in mirth, the sound music to Severus' ears. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard the man laugh out loud and was surprised and pleased that he had managed to do it when none of Potter's friends had. At least, not if what Minerva told Albus was true. He raised an expressive eyebrow in question.

Harry correctly interpreted his meaning and answered. "It's just that I haven't seen that particular glare since before we killed Voldemort. It's...refreshing."

Snape smirked. He was enjoying this immensely. "Refreshing Mr. Potter? How very unusual. Most people find that glare offensive or even frightening."

Harry produced a mostly full bottle of fire whiskey from the floor by his chair and proceeded to refill their glasses. He quaffed his, earning another raised eyebrow from Snape and poured another glass before answering.

Taking a deep breath, he began the conversation he had intended to have with the man for a year. "Truth be told Severus, I haven't found that look frightening since sixth year. In fact, I've found it downright provocative."

He can't mean what I think he means. "It was meant to be provocative Harry. Those glares are designed to obtain obedience from recalcitrant students such as yourself."

Harry grinned. "I'm no longer a student. Haven't been for over a year. And that's not the sort of provocation I was referring to." He took a deep breath. "Severus, I've found you horribly attractive for roughly four years now and I find you more so the more I know you."

Severus choked on the sip of whiskey he had been taking as it turned into a gulp. Dear god, the boy did mean what I thought he meant. "What did you say?" he sputtered.

"I said I find you attractive. Found you attractive in the past. And, unless I'm not mistaken, you find me attractive as well," that last bit betraying a hint of insecurity that Snape simply couldn't help but respond to.

"Harry, whether or not I find you attractive is immaterial." Snape finished off the rest of his whiskey and held the glass out to be refilled. "I'm too old for you. Surely there are many to choose from. You could have your choice of any witch or wizard alive. You certainly can't want me, you should be with someone who has more to offer than I do, someone young and..."

"I know all the reasons Severus," Harry snapped. "Why do you think I waited so long to say anything? Bad enough to be the Man-Who-Killed-Voldemort, but I will not listen to you lecture me about what I need. What I need is right in front of me. I need someone to see me, not the bloody savior of the world. You said it yourself, I can have my choice of witch or wizard and I choose you! Don't you want me then?"

Severus gulped the entire glass before answering. His throat burned. Not just from the path blazed by the fire whiskey, but with unexpressed emotion. He couldn't believe that the savior of the wizarding world wanted to be with him, was choosing him, a washed up ex-Death Eater turned spy who had been hateful to him for most of the time he had known him.

"Harry," he started.

"Just tell me if you want me or not. I promise I'll leave you alone if you don't."

That's exactly what he was afraid of, Harry growing bored and leaving him. "Harry, I'm almost 40. I don't want or need a short-lived affair. When next I enter a relationship, I want it to be long term, not for the next few months. And you deserve better than a washed up ex-Death Eater and Potions Master."

"Severus Snape, you are in the top of your field and you know it!" Harry bit out explosively. "Were it nor for your previous connections to Voldemort, we never would have killed him. Yes, I'm 20 years old. So what? That won't matter when I'm 150 and you're 170. I don't want an affair. I want more than that. But I'll settle for a chance to show you what we could have. Please give me that chance."

Snape sighed. Harry sounded so sincere. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Harry got bored. Why not take what little time he could get with him? Who knows, maybe he might learn to love me back. And he did allude to wanting more by pointing out what little real difference there is in our age.

"Alright Harry. But we do this my way. Dinner, dancing, I want it all. And I expect no promises that cannot be fulfilled."

Harry's face lit up in a brilliant smile.

"Oh Severus," he sighed, shaking his head in amusement. Leaning forward, he brushed a quick kiss across the other man's lips. "No promises yet then. I won't leave you Rus. I know you think I'll get bored, that I can't possibly want to be with you. But I know what I want, who I want. I have for the last four years. I'm not changing my mind now." Grinning, he grabbed the man's hands and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, let's dance," he urged, dragging Severus unto the floor behind him.

And Severus found himself remarkably more tolerant of the idiots on the dance floor as he became one of them; dancing across from the man that he loved.

Maybe, just maybe, this will work out all right.

Fin