All That You Leave Behind

We're not gonna bore you with an Authors' Notes this time. We're just gonna get right to the good stuff...



Chapter Thirty-Eight



After the meal, which had barely been touched, Harry reached for a bottle of something strong and two glasses and walked into the living room. Severus followed, intrigued. Generally, Harry wasn’t a big drinker, but something in the younger man’s stance told him the dark haired man was planning a session.



The first two glasses were drunk in almost total silence. Harry watched Severus drink, trying to sip at his own glass to prevent himself getting too drunk, but at the same time, every time he thought about what might happen that night he took a gulp, trying to drink himself to bravery.



Severus enjoyed the alcohol; it was good quality. And sitting companionably with Harry was certainly pleasurable, despite the tension that seemed to thicken between them.



The tension began to ease somewhat as the third glass of firewhiskey slid down their throats.



“S-Sev,” Harry said suddenly, horribly aware that his voice held a squeak in it, “if, if you could be with anyone you wished, dead or alive, who would it be?”



Severus felt suddenly much too hot. His face flamed as he considered his possible responses to Harry’s question. He could hardly admit the truth, could he? Tell the beautiful young man opposite he wanted to throw him down on a bed and fuck him til neither could move again. And he could hardly reply with the name Harry was clearly expecting, as it simply wasn’t true. In the end he reached forward and refilled both of their glasses.



“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Harry asked, a slight giggle following his words.



YES! Maybe that way I can finally get some relief, some peace, even if it does wreck our friendship!



Severus bit back his thoughts. One night with Harry wouldn’t make up for the destruction of a relationship. He loved the other too much to just be content with one night of passion and then nothing ever again.



Harry, for his part, was drinking the alcohol, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. An uncomfortable image of Severus leaning over and kissing him was making his trousers too tight. He wanted Severus, in ways in which he knew he shouldn’t, and still was desperately unsure. If tonight went to plan, would it ruin their friendship? Would the atmosphere between them become intolerable? Would Severus have to leave? Harry’s mind revolted at the thought. Even at the cost of sating his physical desire, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin what they currently had.



The evening wore on, Harry drinking more than his body could truly handle whilst Severus kept up with him, better able to hold his liquor than Harry. With the easing of alcohol, their talk became almost natural again, except for the loss of the innuendoes. Neither quite dared to start a tease that might lead down a dangerous path.



Sitting on the floor, drinking glass after glass, Harry didn’t quite realise how drunk he was becoming.



Severus tilted the bottle and a few dribbles of honey coloured liquid poured in Harry’s tumbler. Severus raised an eyebrow, surprised that between them they had finished the bottle.



Harry stared at the tiny puddle of whiskey in his glass and tossed it back. The time had come. He could no longer prevaricate. Rising unsteadily to his feet, Harry weaved across the room and made his slow, overly careful way to the bathroom.



The cool of the tiled area made his own skin seem hotter in comparison. He stared at himself in the mirror, surprised at his flushed cheeks and slightly glassy eyes. He gripped the basin firmly as he swayed helplessly. He pulled open the door of the cabinet next to the mirror, fumbling a little with the small handle, and knocked over bottles and containers searching for a glass vial. At last he held it in his hand. He clenched his fist tightly around it, terrified in case he dropped it. Inside, the liquid had already changed colour to a rich, deep russet that would have made Harry think of autumn had he not been so drunk.



He carefully put the tube into the sink, so that it could not roll off and smash and stared fixedly at it. Could he do this? He had kept telling himself, for days now, that he would hire someone to take the polyjuice potion, but he had known that he was lying to himself. He wanted Severus to have his one time with Lily but was selfish enough to also take this chance to have his one chance with Severus. After all, the man had adored Harry’s mother, no way did Severus feel what Harry felt.



Harry glanced down at the bulge between his legs. He idly rubbed at it, then sharply pulled his hand away. This wasn’t about him, whatever he was foolishly thinking. It was about Severus. He was doing this for Severus not for his own gratification. Having argued his brain into submission, he now ignored his traitorous body which seemed determined to remind him of how much he was looking forward to this.



For Severus he thought sternly and fuzzily, Severus.



He reached into the sink, hand missing the bottle on his first attempt. On his second he grasped it and held it shakily in his grip. He looked inot the mirror, realising that, for one short hour, he was going to be a woman, going to know how it felt to be penetrated…



Ginny! He thought with a surge of guilt. It was she who had unwittingly put this longing into his head. Ginny who had made him think of being taken by Severus. And it was Ginny who would benefit. He would know better how to please her, and the awkward tension between himself and Severus would be gone. He would again focus exclusively upon his wife and son. And after all, it was only going to happen once.



Yes, just the once. Just to give Severus his one time with Lily.



Having justified to himself what he was about to do, he uncorked the vial. The cork he placed carefully next to the soap. He brought the tube to his lips. He swallowed his nerves down. It wasn’t too late. He could still change his mind…