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You Don't See Me	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 11703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I'm not making any money off of writing fanfiction for it, either. Obviously.

Chapter List
- 1-I
- 2-II
- 3-III
- 4-IV
- 5-V
- 6-VI
- 7-VII
- 8-VIII
- 9-IX
- 10-X
- 11-XI
- 12-XII
- 13-XIII
- 11
- 12
- 13
XII.
'I wish I was lonely, instead of just only crystal and see-through
and not enough to you.'

Hermione put her hand on her
back to support her bulbous stomach as she sat down with a soft
grunt. “Not that I don't love how Ron runs off after my every
whim,” she said, “but I think we'll all be happier when
this damned baby comes out, already,” she complained.

Harry grinned. His friends, he
thought, would make excellent parents, but he was secretly glad he
was gay because there was no way he wanted to carry around the kind
of weight Hermione was hefting. Ever. “Well, it'll be soon,
won't it?”

“Any
day now,” Hermione answered as if they'd been telling her that
for weeks. “But never mind that. What's the deal with you and
Snape?” She whispered at the end. She'd sent Ron off on another
food craving errand, but to be honest she really didn't particularly
have any hankering for black licorice, peanut butter, and mint
chocolate chip as she'd so adamantly insisted. It was just that Ron
was taking this whole Harry and Snape thing rather hard. Hard enough
to give him a concussion--every time the subject came up he got this
look on his face like he was about to have an anurism and then he
fainted. Hermione would really rather prefer the father of her child
to not be brain-damaged by the time the baby was born, so she'd sent
him off so that Harry could talk about Snape, which she had a feeling
he rather needed to do.

Harry smiled, but it wasn't a
very cheerful smile. “If you're asking if this is a long haul
sort of thing, then no, I doubt it. It's not like you and Ron.”

“You
want it to be though, don't you?” Woman's intuition. Not that
she needed it. He was sitting there moping and playing with his straw
rather than drinking his milkshake.

Harry shrugged. “He
doesn't love me,” he answered matter of factly, but didn't look
her in the eye. He knew if he looked up she'd look all upset and that
would make him all upset, and really he'd come to terms with it. His
lips quirked into a wistful little smile. “He thinks he does,
though. I guess that'll keep things going for a while. He's so
lonely, Hermione. He'd think he was in love with anyone who offered
him a little kindness. I feel like a complete arse for taking
advantage of that, but I just...” He let out a shaky breath.
“Never mind. It's not important, really. I'm not a kid anymore.
I know what I'm doing.”

“Oh
Harry, of course it's important. You're in love with him.”

Hearing someone else say so was
almost more than he could bear. He couldn't even say it out loud to
himself anymore. He buried his face in his hand as he tried to regain
his composure. Somehow, he managed it, but he knew it wouldn't hold
for long if she kept pressing him like this. He took a deep breath
and rewarded her with a self-effacing grin. “Can't get anything
by you, Hermione,” he joked weakly. “But like I said, it
doesn't matter. He doesn't feel the same way. I'm starting to think
maybe he can't. Not just me, I mean, but anyone. He doesn't trust
people, you know? He's always looking for secret motives and hidden
agendas. It's like he forgot somewhere along the way that love isn't
like that. You know damn well you can't love someone that you don't
trust. So if you don't trust anyone, then you can't love
anyone either. He likes me well enough, though.” Harry smirked
and added, “especially naked.”

“Harry!”
Hermione chided, before leaning forward a bit with a devious little
smirk of her own. “Well, that part of your relationship is good
at least, then?” Girls really can't help themselves.

Harry's mood instantly
brightened. “It's bloody brilliant. Every night,
Hermione. Every. Single. Night.” He smirked. “Sometimes
in the morning, too.”

“Bloody
hell, Harry. It's a miracle you can still walk.”

Harry jumped as Ron appeared
behind him. He handed Hermione her boatload of food and gave his best
friend a sheepish smile. “Well, er, you know, I've been
thinking about it,” Ron said awkwardly. “And, you know, I
don't want to be sent off on crazy errands every time you want to
talk about you know who because you think I can't handle it.”
Harry decided not to mention that calling Snape 'you know who' really
implied that he in fact couldn't handle it. “I'm your best
mate, after all. I should be there listening to all the stupid rot
you want to talk about, even if it's getting buggered by Snape.”

There was just something
ridiculously funny about hearing Ron say 'getting buggered by Snape'.
Harry didn't know what it was, but his mood lightened instantly and
he started laughing.

“What?”
Ron asked defensively.

“N-haha—n-nothing,”
Harry replied between chuckles. His laughter was contagious. Hermione
couldn't help but laugh as well, and before long, all three were
laughing, teary eyed.

“Oh.
Oh dear...”

“It's
not that
funny
'mione,” Ron said, catching his breath.

“N-no,
it's not that, Ronald. My water just broke.”

“Well,
then we'll get you a new one. Oh. Oh!” Ron leaped to his feet.
“Y-you mean!”

“Yes,
Ronald, for pity's sake, yes! The baby.”

The late afternoon lunch in
Hogsmeade somehow became rushing frantically to the hospital. Later,
Harry wouldn't be able to accurately string together events
coherently. Everything was so manic. He could remember Ron pacing, a
lot, and sending an owl on to Snape about missing dinner. Then he
started pacing too—it was contagious. There was some kind of
ruckus and Ron disappeared into a room and Harry sat down on a sofa
in the waiting room and almost instantly passed out. The last thing
he could remember wondering was what exactly he'd written in
his letter to his lover.

*

Severus took the letter off of
the tawny owl's leg. He presumed it would be about the delay in
receiving certain special order ingredients that had been due to
arrive two days ago, but no, it was a note from Harry.

Severus,

Won't be back in time for
dinner. Sorry! Might not be home at all tonight, actually. Rushed to
the hospital. Talk to you later.

Harry

Severus' lips pursed. Surely, he
hadn't read that right. Surely, if Harry had been rushed to
the hospital, he'd give some inkling as to what ever for. Surely
–and Snape's anger was at a peak now as he'd read the brief
communication again—Harry would tell his lover if there
was cause for concern, and kindly give a bit of detail so that
said lover wouldn't worry himself sick. Surely, unless the
situation was absolutely dire and the boy couldn't even manage to
hold a quill for but a moment—okay, now concern was quickly
overtaking anger—even a reckless little idiot like Harry would
deign to give him some information, like which godforsaken hospital,
for starters.

Severus cursed and pulled his
boots back on, grabbed his thick robes and fastened them hastily,
shoving the note tightly into his pocket and hurrying out of his
quarters. He pounded on Minerva's door, and the stately woman
answered it with a terse frown.

“For
the love of Merlin, no need to throw a fit, I am coming!”
Minerva McGonagall said. She flung the door open to find
Snape—looking even more agitated than usual, which, she had to
admit, was quite a feat.

“Severus,
what is it? Shouldn't you be meeting the third years for a trip into
the Forbidden Forest to identify herbs or something about now?”
She remembered the third years talking about it amongst themselves in
horror: 'alone in the forbidden forest with Headmaster Snape, for two
hours'.

“Something
urgent has come up. Please inform my students that the trip will be
postponed. I will give them the new date in class.”

“Urgent?”
Minerva asked, but he was already halfway down the hall and seemed to
be breaking into a slight jog. It must be urgent if Snape was
actually running rather than billowing briskly to and fro. And for
that matter, didn't he have a personal assistant for these things?
Oh. Something to do with Harry then. She sighed, not overly concerned
for the moment. If it was Potter and Snape, they'd manage whatever
the problem was well enough without a stuffy old woman butting in.
“Honestly. Boys will be boys, I suppose.”

*

Snape was in Hogsmeade by the
time he remembered to cast a tracing spell on the letter to figure
out where the hell it had come from. He must look like a lunatic, if
the looks passers-by were giving him was any sign. And just when he
stuffed the letter into his pocket, the sky opened up and it started
to rain. People retreated instantly indoors—all except for
Severus Snape who was on a mission and wasn't sure if it was fueled
more by worry or rage. He'd decide once he found out how badly Harry
was hurt.

By the time he slammed open the
door to the hospital he was sopping wet. His boots squelched with
each tight step. You would think this would be enough to get him some
attention, but other than quivering and stuttering, no one was all
that helpful. How in the hell, after all the years of fame, did an
entire hospital somehow miss the presence of the Harry Potter?
He rather stood out in a crowd, if you asked Snape.

He was stopped abruptly in the
midst of his rampage from one hospital wing to the next by a tiny,
pale hand fisting his sodden robes. “Mister?”

Severus turned abruptly, staring
down his prominent nose, and nearly barked at the tiny voice, but
then his eyes met the biggest green eyes he'd ever seen, half hidden
by tangles of black hair. The girl couldn't be more than five, and
removed her thumb from her mouth. “Mister, the person your
looking for. Does he have glasses? And skinny? With mussy hair?”

Snape didn't think she was
really in any position to be saying anything about anyone else's hair
when it looked as if a bird was trying to make a nest out of hers,
but he nodded anyway.

“That
way,” she said, pointing. “Sleepin' on the couch.”

Sleeping on the couch? Severus
took a few long strides, but then remembered he should thank the kid,
and turned. Much to his surprise, she'd taken on a somewhat
transparent appearance. She grinned a gap-toothed little grin and
waved before vanishing. Peculiar, but Severus was in no state of mind
to think about it now. Ghosts often haunted the halls of hospitals.
It must be nothing more substantial than that. Poor kid.

He turned his attention ahead
and with a few long strides found himself in the maternity ward. Sure
enough, there was Harry, dead asleep in the waiting area. It didn't
take long for Snape to figure out what had happened. Granger. They'd
rushed to the hospital because the bulbous growth in Granger's belly
had finally decided to come out. Harry could have said so, but no,
the little bastard never spared a thought for anyone but himself.
Severus knew that wasn't true, but in his irritation chose to ignore
those basic facts and pulled the damp parchment from the depths of
his pocket, chucking it as hard as he could at Harry's face.

Harry felt something like a
giant spitball hit his cheek and jumped. “Wha-huh?” He
blinked owlishly, rubbed his eyes. “Sev?” he asked, not
seeming to realize where he was or what was going on. “Why are
you all wet?”

That was the last straw, the
sentence that made Snape snap. His brow twitched. “Oh, I don't
know, Harry, it could have something to do with the infernal
weather I had to trudge through when I thought my lover had been
rushed to the hospital,” he spat. “I should have known
better than to be worried, but I guess I'm old fashioned. In
my day, shagging someone meant you actually gave half a damn about
their feelings. What in the hell did you think would happen when you
sent word that you'd been rushed to the hospital? Should I
have just thought 'oh well, Harry might be on his deathbed, but
showing third years the difference between tentacula and widow's root
is far more important than such a little thing as my lover's
continued well-being.'? Is that what you would have done after
receiving a letter like that?” he demanded. He knew he
was being irrational and worse than that, making a scene, but he was
so furious at the entire situation that none of that mattered.

Why did he think, even for an
instant, that Harry might consider his feelings? Just because they
were shagging didn't mean they were connected on some deep, emotional
level. It didn't mean Harry had to love him. Hell, it didn't even
mean Harry had to like him. “Never mind,” he spat,
turning tightly on his heel. “I should have known from the
beginning this is how it was going to be. Find someone else to toy
with, Potter. I've had enough.”

Harry hadn't really been given
the chance to get a word in edgewise. He'd only barely managed to
make out through sleep-fogged eyes that the note did, in fact, imply
that he'd been rushed to the hospital, before Severus was telling him
to go to hell and find someone else to shag while he was at it.
“Dammit, Severus! Wait!”

Snape turned a sharp glare at
Harry that cut deep into his chest. “God! You're so
sensitive,” Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Not the
best way to start defending yourself, if the terse clicking of
Snape's tongue against the roof of his mouth was any sign. “I
was thoughtless with the letter, yeah. You got me, but damn it.”
It was hard to remember what he was saying when Severus was giving
him that sharp look—like he was really hurt but refused to
admit it. There was something about that expression and Snape's whole
manner that he thought he should be picking up on, something about
Snape that he'd misunderstood. “You could at least talk it out
before declaring at the first sign of trouble that it's over!”

“Over,
Potter? It never even begun.”

Harry's eyes widened as the
realization hit him. That expression—Severus felt betrayed.
Betrayed. And to feel betrayed, he must have trusted Harry.
And if he trusted Harry, then he actually, genuinely, probably loved
him.

Severus watched the emotions
race against Harry's face and wasn't sure whether to laugh at their
progress or just feel genuinely perplexed by their multitude. He
still hadn't come to a decision when the boy launched himself at him.
It was all he could do to catch Harry before they both went toppling
to the floor. He opened his mouth to demand what exactly the boy
thought he was doing, but found himself rather soundly snogged for
his efforts. It was a curiously ecstatic kiss for someone who was
just being thoroughly hollered at. Snape wanted to resist, but
couldn't.

“Harry?”
he asked when their lips parted.

Harry grinned up at him. “You
love me,” he blanketed.

“Obviously,”
Snape answered flatly. “Why else would I tolerate all the
nonsense you put me through?”

Harry buried his face into the
soaked robes at Snape's shoulder. “I love you too,” he
murmured. “It was careless of me to word the note like that. I
thought it would keep you from worrying, or getting annoyed, but I've
only made you even more annoyed and worried for the effort. I wasn't
thinking clearly. Everything was so crazy. Ron was freaking out and
Hermione was cursing, and there were all these healers rushing about
and I just scribbled out a note as quickly as I could and I guess I'm
still not much good with words, but you're the same, right? Bloody
hell, Sev! It was so painful, thinking I was the only one in love.”
He clung desperately to the taller man, willing this to be more than
a dream.

All of Snape's anger melted
away. Maybe he'd been hasty, thinking this relationship of theirs was
just a phase for Harry. He was young, sure, but an adult, capable of
knowing his own heart, at the very least. He wrapped his arms around
his young lover gently and dipped his face into the crown of Harry's
head. “I've been a fool,” he whispered into his love's
hair. “Perhaps we can agree to forgive one another, just this
once.” He tilted Harry's lips up and kissed him gently.

Harry melted into the kiss and
pulled his rain-soaked love over to the couch, curling up against his
side. Severus normally wouldn't much care for the public display, but
perhaps just this once would be alright. Harry had just told him he
loved him, after all, and for the first time Severus found he
actually believed those words, so he supposed he could spoil him,
just a bit.

After a long bout of comfortable
silence, Harry said sleepily, “Hmn. It'd be nice to have a kid
someday, huh? I mean, I don't envy Hermione for doing it the hard
way,” he said with a bemused little grin. Any male who said he
wanted to feel the miracle of childbirth was either a liar or needed
severe psychological help as far as Harry was concerned, “but
adopting could be nice. Maybe a little girl,” he mused in his
half-conscious state. “I could see you with a daughter. You'd
spoil her rotten.” Harry yawned. “You'd be a really good
dad.”

Oddly, the little ghost girl
he'd met earlier came to Snape's mind. He supposed, in a purely
observational way, she'd been rather cute. Tangled black hair, big
green eyes, and a goofy, gap-toothed grin. A ghost? Or perhaps a
premonition? He supposed there was no point on dwelling on it now.
“Perhaps,” he answered. “Someday.”

Harry smiled against his
shoulder. Messing up his note like that had turned out to be a good
thing, in the end. It had helped to clear up a huge misunderstanding.
- 11
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You Don't See Me