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Sadness of Eros	By : LoupGarou1750 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 7628 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: JK Rowling and her business associates own the world of Harry Potter. I make no money from this, nor anything else. The words 'The open palm of desire wants everything' are from the Paul Simon song 'Further to Fly'. He owns those.

Chapter List
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12

"You're late. I was expecting you three hours ago. I don't have time– WHAT THE DEVIL DO YOU MEAN BY THIS!" Snape screeched, saliva spraying from his mouth.

Harry wiped a fleck of spit from his cheek and then held his hands up placatingly. "Don't scream, you'll hurt your throat. I can explain."

"No, you can't," Snape said through clenched teeth. "Get out. All of you."

"Right," Ron said, letting the boxes he was levitating sink slowly to the doorstep. "Told you this was a stupid idea, Harry. And don't point that at me, you fucking prick!" he snapped. The look of loathing on his face was a match for Snape's.

"Get out before I use an Unforgivable," Snape said, his wand wavering between Ron and Neville and Harry. "Don't think I won't. How dare you, Potter?"

"I needed help, OK? I couldn't get all this here by myself."

Snape advanced threateningly, his wand now pointed directly at Harry. "You are no longer welcome here. Take your rubbish and your friends and go."

"I won't!"

"Harry," Neville cautioned, placing his hand on Harry's arm and nodding towards Ron whose face was turning red with anger. Ron's hand was in the pocket where he kept his wand. "This is going to get very ugly, very fast," Neville said in an undertone.

Jerking away from Neville's touch, Harry rounded on Ron. "Don't even think about it. Leave the boxes and go. This was a mistake. RON, DON'T!" he yelled as Ron jerked his wand from his pocket.

Snape laughed derisively. "Think you can take me, Weasley? Do you really?" He laughed again then, showing Ron just how unintimidated he was, turned his back on them and walked away.

Harry and Neville both lunged at Ron and yanked his arm down. Fire engulfed an armchair as Ron's Incendio was deflected.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Harry screamed. "You want to kill him because he was rude? What the hell did you expect? Neville, get him out of here. No, leave the boxes. Just go! I've got to try to explain things to Snape."

Neville looked at Harry with dismay, then shrugged. Ron, face still flaming, opened his mouth, but Neville calmly clapped a hand over it and with a muted pop! they were gone.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?" Harry strode through the house, as furious as he'd ever been, and nearly crashed into Snape as he rounded a corner.

"Me? What the hell is the matter with you? How dare you bring them here? How dare you even tell them I am alive? Did it never once occur to you I kept my existence a secret for twenty years for a reason? That maybe I preferred people didn't know? Are you stupid enough to think that wasn't intentional? That I simply forgot to notify the wizarding world?" Snape rolled his eyes. "Now I'm the one who's being stupid. Of course you were idiot enough to think that. Your stupidity has always been your defining character trait!"

"Of course I told them," Harry spluttered. "How could you think I wouldn't? They're my friends! You're my friend! You're too important to me to keep secret!"

"Oh really?" Snape sneered, beginning to pace. "I suppose that means you've told your wife the true nature of our 'relationship'." He spat the word like an obscenity. "Have you told your friends that as well? Described in exquisite detail the way you grovel to me? The way you beg me to use you, humiliate you, shame you? How did they take that news? I wonder."

"NO! I–" Harry fell silent, suddenly feeling like a worm.

"I thought not. How very transparent you are, Potter. You want it all ways. You feign honesty, fool yourself that you maintain some semblance of honour by being forthright. 'I'll tell my wife it's Snape I'm visiting, then I won't really be lying to her. I'll tell my friends Snape's alive and then there won't be any real subterfuge. I can have my brains fucked out on a regular basis by someone other than my wife, but I'll still look good.' You sicken me."

"It isn't like that!" Harry protested. "You know it isn't! You know how much I care for you. How important you are. You must know. Do you think I would risk my marriage, risk everything if I didn't care? If I didn't need you?"

"And there's the crux of it." Snape sank into a chair. "You're such a self-centred little beast. You don't give a tinker's damn about what I need, about my privacy, my safety, my peace of mind. As usual, it's all about Harry Potter having everything he wants, doing anything he wants." Snape didn't even sound angry anymore; his rage had given way to that quiet impassivity that always made Harry feel sick and hollow.

"Go away, Potter. I meant it when I said you sicken me. And, although it's probably pointless to even mention, I would appreciate it if you'd ask your friends to keep their damn mouths shut. I built something good for myself out of the wreckage that was my life. I'd hate for it to be destroyed because of your selfish carelessness."

"You don't mean it. You can't!"

"Don't I?" Snape sneered, all the vindictive bitterness back in his voice. "Don't I? You've constructed an elaborate fantasy based on a web of self-deceit. It's pathetic and childish. Of course I mean it. Every word. You were enjoyable enough as a casual fuck, but now you've become a nuisance. I've never had any interest in you apart from your mouth and arse, and now I'm afraid what minimal attraction there was has quite worn off. Go peddle it somewhere else."

Feeling as if he'd been punched in the stomach, Harry nodded sadly. "I guess that's clear enough. I thought–" His tongue seemed too thick in his dry mouth. "I thought I meant something more to you." He cringed at Snape's noise of disgust. "I'll have to leave some of my equipment here until I can make arrangements. I know it's a bother, but it did take three of us to get it all here."

"There are no arrangements for you to make. You will not bring anyone else here. You'll have to transport it all yourself. I don't care how many trips it takes you, but you will let me know when you're coming back so I can arrange to not be here."

"OK. Right." Harry looked around vaguely, feeling lost and wishing desperately for some way to erase the last hour, some way to put things right again. He could tell from Snape's expression that it was hopeless. "Right," he said again. "I'll be off then. Snape–" He stretched his hand out and then let it fall limply to his side. "Thanks. For everything."

Heart aching, Harry Summoned as many of the boxes as he could manage and Disapparated.

***

"Hello?"

There was no answer. Feeling like an intruder in the house that had until recently felt almost like home and hating it, Harry cautiously pushed open the front door and stepped inside. Heart pounding, he stood listening and still there was no sound.

"Snape?" He knew he should summon another load of equipment and leave, but he had something he wanted to say. It had taken him two weeks to summon the courage to return. Two weeks of planning explanatory speeches, two weeks of rejecting them, and now he was here with no idea what he would say and determined to say it nonetheless.

"I should have known courtesy was the last thing I could expect from you."

Harry jumped as Snape's voice sounded right behind him. "Don't do that! You scared the shit out of me!"

"You were supposed to inform me when you planned to return." Snape's voice was cold.

"I want to talk to you."

"Well I don't want to talk to you. Get your things and go."

"You have to let me apologise."

"I don't have to do anything at all. Your audacity never ceases to amaze me." Snape turned on his heel and walked away. Harry followed him into the kitchen.

"You haven't hexed me yet. That has to be a good sign."

"Don't tempt me. Say your piece and leave me in peace. I'm in the middle of something." Snape's voice hadn't gotten any friendlier, but Harry took heart in the fact that it hadn't got any harsher either. He watched as Snape ignited the Aga and took a tin of tea from a cupboard.

Now or never. It's obvious he's going to allow you a hearing. Spit it out before he decides to throw you out again.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. You were right. It never even passed through my mind that I shouldn't tell people you were alive and that was unbelievably stupid of me."

"Not unbelievably," Snape said drily.

"Ha ha." Harry matched Snape's tone, but inside he was cheering. "I know it's unfair of me to...I know it isn't right to expect..."

"For fuck's sake, just say what you came to say. Listening to you stammer and stutter is beyond tedious."

The kettle began to sing. Harry watched Snape heat the teapot and then dump a measure of tea into it, taking the time to compose himself.

"I've been using you, and that was wrong. I'm married and I've no intention of leaving my wife and kids, so having sex with you under those circumstances is reprehensible and completely unfair to you."

Snape turned to look at him with an unreadable expression. Harry hurried on before the scathing sarcasm could erupt. "But I thought, you know, maybe we could be friends. You've been a big help, beyond you know..." He waved his hand, trying to wordlessly express everything Snape had done to and for him. "The Snow Vodka seems stable and I couldn't have done that without your help. We get along surprisingly well. You know we do. It just seems a pity to throw the baby out with the bathwater, if you know what I mean. OK, so we won't have sex anymore. I can live with that. But I like talking to you. I like working in your garden. And I think, no, I know you've enjoyed both my company and my help. Even outside the bedroom. Friends. What do you say?"

Harry had imagined a variety of responses, from being summarily thrown out to the two of them falling into a passionate embrace. It had never once occurred to him that Snape would burst out laughing.

"Friends," Snape said when at long last his laughter had subsided. He hooked a chair with his foot and pushed it towards Harry. "Friends. By all means, Potter. Let's be friends."

"Really? You're OK with that?" Harry looked at Snape suspiciously, his heart unaccountably sinking just a little. He wanted to believe, but it seemed too easy and really, shouldn't Snape be just a bit put out that Harry didn't want to sleep with him anymore?

***

"What dost tha want?" The shirtless blond youth that answered the door looked sullen, and vaguely familiar. Spotty, with two or three days worth of patchy whisker growth, he also looked to be at most twenty. There was something about him that set Harry's teeth on edge.

"I'm looking for Sev- er, Silex Snubb. You were here before, weren't you? I remember now."

"An' what if I were? What business is it of thine?"

Harry's wand hand twitched. He was saved from doing something he'd regret by Snape's appearance.

"Potter." Snape nodded at Harry, then turned to the blond boy and thrust a jumper into his hands. "Get dressed, lad.

"Who's she then?" Blondie asked as his head cleared the jumper's neck, jerking his chin at Harry. "Thy wife? Bit old in't she? That why tha keeps her hid?"

"Shut thy gob, Walt. Tha' should ha' been long gone. Thy mam'll be wonderin' where tha's been."

"I'll jus' tell her I were bein' buggered stupid by t'old fart downt road. Be reyt. Unnerstandin' woman, my mam."

"Tha may be big enow to cheek thy mam, but tha's not yet so grown I can't clip tha 'raand t'ear-oyle!."

At this last Harry, who had been following this exchange like a spectator at a tennis match, stared at Snape. The accent was thick enough to be nearly unintelligible and so far removed from the one he was used to – even given the throaty whisper Snape now spoke in – that it hardly seemed possible they came from the same man.

A low chuckle snapped him back. "Close your mouth, Potter. You look even a bigger fool than usual." Snape waved a hand, indicating more than just the room they were in. "When in Rome. Not to mention it is my native tongue. Your mother's as well, you know."

"My Aunt Petunia never–"

Snape's lip curled. "I've no doubt she hastened to eviscerate any evidence of her antecedents immediately on crossing the county line. Petunia always did have aspirations." Snape said the word as if it were an obscenity.

"But my mother–"

"No, that's true. It was a matter of survival for her and me, not an attempt to appear what we were not. Being at Hogwarts put edges on our vowels fast enough."

Harry nodded. Now that he thought about it, even Seamus Finnegan's accent was different at school than it was around his family, and McGonagall's thick brogue only slipped out when she was irate; he'd never thought about it before.

"'Ere now. What abaht me, then?" The blond youth's voice grated on Harry's nerves. Indeed, everything about him did.

"You scamper off back to your mam. I've business t'attend to," Snape replied.

Blondie looked as if he was about to say something else – no doubt in a highly petulant and irritating way – but Snape cut off whatever it was by pulling him into a thorough, and disgustingly obscene, kiss. Harry wanted to retch, and he didn't want to think about why his fists were clenched at his side any more than he wanted to think about why his cock was stiffening.

After what seemed to be five minutes or more, Snape pulled away and opened the door. Blondie hesitated for a moment, then, without saying anything, turned on his heel and walked away, pulling his jacket on as he left.

Standing in the open doorway, Snape watched him walking away. Blondie was nearly to the road when Snape heaved a sigh and called him back. There was no reasonable explanation for the way Harry's heart pounded as Snape whispered, "Don't come back again, Walt. There's nowt here for you any longer." He shoved a handful of notes into the blond's pocket. "This'll help thy mam with t'babbies. Be a good lad."

Walt jerked his head towards Harry. "There's nowt she can gi' tha I couldn't gi' thee more of." His voice rose into a near whine.

Snape put a hand to the Walt's mouth, silencing him, then dropped the hand to his shoulder and gently pushed him out the door. This time he didn't watch as Walt walked away, but quietly shut the door behind him.

An inexplicable desire to cheer and dance about bubbled up inside Harry but he held it back. He gave Snape a cheeky grin and asked, "Robbing the cradle, aren't you? Couldn't you find someone already grown? Bit of a cliché, isn't it? Pathetic. Really pathetic."

"Whilst repeatedly scratching at the door of the man who threw you out is neither pathetic nor a cliché, is that it?"

Snape's sneering, superior tone made Harry see red. He'd only been teasing, but now he was furious. "He's young enough to be your grandson! And Christ! The way he looks!" Harry knew he was overreacting. It was nothing to him what Snape did, nor who he did it with. If he wasn't careful, Snape would think he was jealous, or something equally ridiculous. He cast about for something else to say before Snape got the wrong idea. ""I can't believe you'd get involved with that." He mentally winced. Even given his past relationship with Snape – a relationship that was over by mutual agreement – it was incredibly rude; he'd meant to say, "someone like that," which, he admitted to himself, was probably only slightly less churlish.

Snape, however, didn't react at all in a way that could have been reasonably expected. Instead of verbally peeling the flesh from Harry's bones, he flashed an almost ferocious smile. "That can suck the varnish off a broomstick and then swallow it down to the twigs, which is a world beyond your own pathetic capabilities."

There was no possible answer to that. Or maybe there were too many to choose from.

"Well, good for you, I guess. Must be nice to know you can still pull the young ones. Look, I didn't know I was going to be interrupting something. Guess that's why I should let you know I'm coming before I get here." Harry laughed hollowly. "Uh, I should go. You probably want to call him back, or something. God, I'm really embarrassed."

"Get over it. He's gone. He probably won't be back, and I can't say as I'm really sorry. Walt is a bit high maintenance. Now, friend. Snape put his arm over Harry's shoulder and led him into the kitchen. "What was it you came to see me about?"

I hate you, Harry thought. I really, really hate you.

~*~*~*~*~
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Sadness of Eros