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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
- 8
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9

"There's an article in here you might find interesting."

His back noisily protesting hours spent bent over his brewing apparatus, Harry straightened up and looked at Ginny. She was standing at the doorway to his lab, an hesitant expression on her face, her fingers tightly gripping a rolled magazine. At a critical stage in his latest round of experiments, any interruption was unwelcome, but he recognised the attempt at peace-making and made an effort not to snarl. "Yeah? What's it about? When did you start reading that?" he asked, catching a glimpse of the magazine cover: Practical Advancements In Theoretical Magic.

"After twenty years you might have noticed I don't confine my reading to Quidditch Monthly," Ginny snapped.

Wanting to snap back just as sharply, Harry forced himself to smile. "I know. Bodice rippers, that's more your style. Fragile witches with enormous knockers being ravaged by the manliest of hairy-chested wizards."

It was good to know that in spite of everything he could still make her laugh.

"Are you still having trouble getting the weather to stick?" she asked, approaching his work table. She still seemed hesitant, but laughing had softened the lines of tension that creased her face.

Harry nodded glumly. "I still can't figure out where I'm going wrong, why sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. I've used every spell, every wand movement I can think of, and different things have worked, but when I try to recreate a successful experiment, the results are never the same. I'm careful; I make a note of everything I do so I can be sure of repeating it exactly, and it makes no difference." He rotated his neck, trying to ease its tightness, and groaned at the crackling sound it made. "I may as well give it up for the night. Try again tomorrow."

"You've been grinding away for days, barely stopping for meals." She slipped a hand up the back of his shirt and rubbed the muscles beneath his shoulder blades. "Or anything else. We've barely spoken. I miss you, Potter."

"It's not like you've been home much," Harry said defensively. "Oh, damn it. I'm sorry, Gin. That was completely uncalled for."

"Yes, it was." She took a thick wad of flesh between her fingers and squeezed. "I suppose you expect me to just hang about upstairs, eating chocolates and waiting for you to poke your head out of your hidey-hole occasionally."

Harry grimaced and then smiled; the pinch had actually felt pretty good. "It's beastly the way I dominate my women. Why don't we go upstairs and I'll make it up to you? Then you can do a little more of that back torture thing you've got going, and I'll make it up to you again."

Smiling, Ginny pinched him again and then soothed the sting away with the palm of her hand. "You always like the oddest things." She sighed heavily. "Charming as your offer of make-up sex is, we can't. Dinner, remember?"

It was Harry's turn to sigh. "Right. Weasley, Granger-Weasley, Longbottom and Lovegood. Sounds like a Muggle firm." He looked at his watch. "I suppose it would be rude to cancel thirty minutes before they arrive?" He gave his wife his best puppy-dog look and conspicuously rubbed his groin.

"Stop that this instant. Unless you're planning on suggesting a ménage à six for afters."

"Ah," Harry said, rubbing his growing erection against Ginny's hip, "I quite like that idea."

Ginny laughed. "You would, you pervert." She laughed again. "Oh my god! Can you imagine Ron's face?"

"It's not his face you should be worrying about." Harry grinned, loving his wife immensely.

Shuddering dramatically, Ginny slapped his chest. "That's the second time you've accused me of incestuous longings, but I think you're having gay ones, you–" she stopped suddenly and stared at Harry "You're not!"

Heart in his throat, Harry screwed his face up even further, hoping like hell he could derail her suspicions. "Ugh. Ron in our bed would be like incest squared. No, no," he continued, relaxing a bit as Ginny laughed again and stopped her close scrutiny. "It's Neville I fancy." Harry's cock gave a little twitch as if to affirm his comment; now that he'd admitted to himself that he liked men, he could definitely recognise Neville's appeal. Hastily shutting down this new train of thought, he cleared his throat and continued. "Maybe it's you who's having the gay thoughts, hmm? You are the one who suggested the orgy. Maybe you've been harbouring a secret longing for Hermione and Luna." Harry nodded. "That's it, isn't it? You want to do the nasty girl thing." He sighed dramatically. "I should have known. First Ron, then Percy, then Snape's bones, and now a little threesome with the girls. I'd better start working out if I'm going to keep up. Mind you," he added, thrusting a little more firmly against Ginny's hip, "I wouldn't mind watching. The three of you would be really hot together."

"I've said it before, but it bears repeating: you're a pig, Potter. Now, stop humping my leg and come help me set the table."

"Can't," Harry said, pulling Practical Advancements In Theoretical Magic out of her hand. "My wife's set me some revising."

"Lazy sod," Ginny muttered. "Fine, be that way. It's the article called, 'Tropical Gardening in the Yorkshire Dales' or something like that."

"Do you mean this one?" He pointed to an entry that contained several multisyllabic words, only two or three of which he recognised.

"Yeah, as I said, 'Tropical Gardening in the Yorkshire Dales'."

"God," Harry groaned. "Maybe I'll have Hermione read it to me after dinner. She can break it down into the sort of tiny bits I'm capable of digesting."

Dinner with friends was one of the best things in life, and this one had been a smashing success. Hermione, knowing that the Potters had been going through a rough patch and that Ginny could use a break, had suggested each of the guests bring their favourite take-away, with Harry and Ginny providing the afters.

Hermione had arrived, sweaty and out of sorts, with what looked to be twenty pounds of tandoori prawns and an enormous masala dosa. "Honestly," she said, steam practically coming out of her ears, "I told them enough for six. Apparently they thought I meant six hippogriffs. The damn dosa was so big I had to shrink it to Floo in."

"Sit," Ginny said. "You look knackered. Get her a drink, Harry."

"No, no. I'm fine," Hermione insisted. In the same headstrong manner she had set the date for dinner and arranged for everyone to bring something, she now began to bustle around, taking the food as their friends arrived and arranging on the table.

Harry watched her fondly. It seemed people didn't ever really change once they left school; each of his friends had arrived at Hogwarts with their essential personalities already defined. He caught Ginny's eye and winked.

Predictably, Luna brought something no one had ever heard of, let alone eaten before – Double-bellied Scritchback eggs marinated in rhododendron butter. "They're a Tibetan delicacy. Only one place in Britain makes them. I thought they'd be perfect, especially since the Yetinis have taken up residence. I thought they might like something from home."

Ginny whispered to Harry, "Looks like melted Fizzing Whizbees," and after tasting it, Harry said she was probably right.

Neville had arrived with his otherwise snowy-white shirt stained red with grease. "Texas barbeque. New girl at Magical Botanical thinks I look underfed. I've tried to tell her I'm gay, but she seems to think a little Texas hot-sauce will put hair on my chest." He shuddered. "Merlin, I hope not. I spend a fortune on depilatory cream as it is."

In a group, Neville was usually fairly quiet and thoughtful. You'd never know he was gay, if you didn't know, Harry thought. But he's fairly screaming tonight. Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that it might have something to do with everything Harry'd revealed during their lunch. Maybe I'm just paranoid. Nobody else seems to notice anything different.

Ron, his usual oblivious self, had brought ice-cream from Fortescue's.

"What?" he asked innocently when his wife glared at him.

"Harry and Ginny are responsible for afters," Hermione scolded. "You knew that."

"Who said it's for pudding? Life's too short to eat veg first."

There was a roar of laughter. After a prolonged discussion, they all agreed that, as everyone present was an adult and their assorted children were not able to witness, there was no reason not to start with ice-cream and break into the take-away containers later.

The group stood around the table, taking in the eccentric assortment of dishes.

"Good thing you have more than one loo," Ron said.

Once the groans had died down, Ginny firecalled Madam Pomfrey – still Hogwarts' nurse after all these years – and, accompanied by a chorus of laughter, asked what she would recommend for upset stomachs.

"Oh dear, is one of the children feeling ill? Tcha! Silly me, they're all here at Hogwarts, aren't they?"

Ginny stepped back so Madam Pomfrey could see the loaded kitchen table. The aged nurse's eyes popped. "I've got some extra Tummy Tonic. I'll just send it along with a stomach pump, shall I?"

Amid all the noise and hilarity during dinner, Harry found himself feeling a bit guilty they didn't get together more often, knowing it was more his fault than anyone's. But while at the beginning of the evening he'd felt a bit uncomfortable, what with Neville knowing about Snape and Ginny not...

Hell! What with Neville knowing about everything! I'm such an idiot; I could have told him about Snape without giving him every last detail.

Don't be such a berk, you know he's completely trustworthy. He'll never tell another soul.

Yeah, but look at that knowing way he's smirking at me.

Oh for fuck's sake, he's happy, you stupid cunt.

...by the time they were all sprawled out in the lounge, drinks at hand and groaning over bloated bellies, Harry was completely relaxed and happy for the first time in ages. It came as something of a shock to realise he hadn't thought of Snape for at least three hours.

"Oi, mate!" Ron, already three sheets to the wind, yelled from two feet away. "Why're we drinking this shite? Why isn't it snowing vodka?"

Even the reminder of that particular failure couldn't mar Harry's mood. "Because I am a fucking wanker. That's right. If I spent half as much time studying magical theory as I do tossing off..."

"Harry!" Ginny collapsed against him giggling. "They'll think I don't put out."

"Ah, which reminds me. I know you're all wondering why I called you here."

"Don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare!" Ginny's look of horrified amusement was priceless.

"So the wife...I call her the wife because, well, you know, she is...had a perfectly brilliant idea earlier this evening. She had a French name for it–"

"Harry James Potter! You'll be tossing off solo forever if you say another word!" She tried to clap her hand over Harry's mouth but he wriggled away. "This was not my idea," she protested. "He just has a filthy mind."

"Or maybe it was Latin. Something with a god-awful number of syllables, anyway." He grinned as Ginny collapsed against him, covering her face with her hands. "Anyway – and I assure you, no matter what dirty thoughts are occupying the wife's mind, that we're still on the topic of Snow Vodka – there's some bloke up north who's a wizard, if you'll excuse the pun, with weather. Unfortunately, I can't understand but every fifth word he used in his article, so I'm counting on you to translate for me, Herm."

"Wait! Wait!" Ron roared. "Get back to the French thingy. Anything can make my sister blush, I want to know about."

"Well, Ron," Luna said, "French is a euphemism for–"

"No! Don't! I've changed my mind. Anything involving my sister and euphemisms is something I definitely don't want to know about! Now, what were we talking about before we ended up in the gutter? Oh, I know! Harry! I've had a brilliant idea."

Hermione groaned.

"Yellow Snow. Brilliant, what?"

Everyone looked blankly at Ron, except Hermione who rolled her eyes.

Ron gave an exaggerated sigh. "Look, people want choices, right? They don't always want the same thing. Variety is the spice, et cetera, et cetera."

Harry nearly choked when Neville raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.

"So you could have different flavours," Ron continued. "Something for everyone. You could make loads of money."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," said Neville. "How exactly does 'yellow snow' fit into this?"

"A gimmick. A..." Ron waved his hands about. "A crook. No, that's not right." His brow furrowed for a moment. "A hook, that's it. It's all about the marketing. I've learned a lot from George. I could help you. Well, that's what I'm doing now, isn't it?"

Hermione looked at her husband with fond exasperation. "Let me tell it, you pillock."

"Oi, it's my idea!" Ron protested.

"Oh, let him explain it, Hermione. It's probably the first original thought he's ever had and you can see he's nearly bursting with it." Ginny poked her tongue out at her brother, who waved his fist in mock threat as everyone else laughed.

"Shut it, all of you," Ron grumbled good-naturedly. "In spite of Neville's disgusting mind–"

Neville opened his mouth in outrage, then laughed and closed it again.

"–I'm thinking about something citrusy, lemon would probably be best, you know, the whole yellow thing, but it's really the label I'm thinking about, that's where my true genius come out."

Hermione made a 'speed it up' gesture with her hands.

"Right. Well, I can't draw, or I'd show you, but imagine a label with a nice picture of a snowy field, and then a spray of yellow comes out of nowhere and writes the words 'Yellow Snow Vodka'. It'ud be a real eye catcher and it'ud make people laugh and want to buy it, if for no other reason than to amuse their friends. And then, you know, if it actually tasted really good..."

The other five stared at Ron dumbfounded. Luna giggled and began to clap; one by one the rest of them joined in. Ron turned red to the roots of his hair with delighted embarrassment.

"That's actually really good." Harry grinned. "Be a bit of a shock at first, I'd imagine. Some might be offended. He turned to Ginny. "Your mother will have kittens. But it would definitely get people talking. And you're right, Ron, we could have a whole series of flavours with clever names."

"It's not good, it's disgusting! I can't believe I married this man." In spite of her words, Hermione's expression was affectionate.

"No, it's good," Harry said. "Maybe it's the kind of thing that will only appeal to blokes, but if it's good enough, all you girls will roll your eyes and drink it anyway. Great minds think alike, mate," he continued, looking at Ron. "I've been pondering the marketing possibilities. Luna said something," he hesitated, half afraid to bring up a reminder of the last time they'd all, less Ginny, been together. It'd hadn't been his best moment, and Ginny was still brassed off about it. Can't tiptoe around it for the rest of your life, he thought, and plunged ahead. "She mentioned Yetinis, brought them up again tonight, and the thought occurred it would be a smashing name for a drink. Like a martini, you know."

"You could serve it in a furry glass." Ron howled with laughter.

"Well, maybe not that," Harry said indulgently, "but you keep thinking, mate. You're bound to come up with something."

"About the time the Cannons win the cup," Ginny teased.

Harry sighed. "Of course no matter what we come up with, it's no good if I don't figure out how to get consistent results. Where's that magazine, Gin?"

"You left it in the lab, I think. Want me to get it?"

"No. I'll fetch it. It's about time for the next cycle, so I may be a few minutes." There was a general outcry that he was ruining the party, and to the sound of catcalls, boos and laugher, Harry left the room.

In spite of being half-bladdered, he had timed it perfectly. The current batch was just ready for a second distillation. Opening his notebook, he put a tick mark next to the experiment he was trying to replicate, carefully revised the spell he would use, and cast. He was fiddling with the temperature when Neville poked his head through the door.

"Ginny sent the cavalry. Says you need to be rescued from yourself."

"I'm almost done. I'll be up in a minute."

"Can I help?"

Harry laughed. "Right. Neville, you suck at potions, remember?"

"I don't actually. I only sucked under Severus Snape." Neville choked, then grinned. "That's a thought that didn't bear thinking. Speaking of which–?"

The familiar feeling of excited panic made Harry's heart skip a beat. "No. I haven't. I won't either."

"You haven't been back at all? I'm surprised."

"Look, he could have waited. He didn't. It was a one-time thing, well, two-time thing, I guess. Doesn't matter. I'm through with all that. I wouldn't know how to find him if I wanted to and I don't want to." The way his heart raced every time he thought of Snape didn't really mean anything, Harry told himself. He only had to be strong and wait it out; the feelings would fade. He could do that. He could be strong for Ginny, for the kids. He knew he could.

Neville gave him a sceptical look.

"I'm serious," Harry insisted. "Too dangerous. I mean, what if he had recognised me? What if one day someone does? Even if I ignore that possibility, it's not fair to Ginny. No. I'm through with it."

"Harry," Neville said, then paused and shook his head. "It's been going on for twenty years. It's not like it was some freak occurrence. Well, the bit about Snape probably was, but–"

Harry shook his head stubbornly. "No. I'm through. Snape's the reason, actually. I was forced to see the insanity of the whole thing. It was quite an eye-opener."

"What will you do when the need strikes again?"

"It won't. Fuck. It probably will. I mean, you're looking pretty good at the moment, but..." Harry sighed. "I'll spend a lot of time polishing my wand."

"No amount of wand polishing will–"

"It will have to be. Enough. Let it go, Nev. It won't happen again."

"Have you tried talking to Ginny?"

"Are you mad?"

"I didn't mean tell her, you twit. I meant have you asked her if she'd–"

"No! I can't! And she wouldn't anyway. I know her. Besides, if she were interested in that sort of thing, she'd have brought it up herself sometime in the last twenty years."

"If you haven't asked her, how can be certain?" Luna drifted into the room.

Harry's heart nearly stopped. "You shouldn't be listening at keyholes!" he snapped.

"I wasn't," Luna said placidly. "The door was open and I could hear you as I came down the stairs. I don't even know what you're talking about, but I did hear Neville ask if you'd talked to Ginny, and all the bits after that."

Frantically replaying the conversation, Harry relaxed a bit as he realised she'd heard nothing really incriminating.

"Sorry, Luna. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I know you wouldn't eavesdrop."

"I still want to know how you can be certain Ginny wouldn't do something if you've never asked her. I mean, you're just assuming, aren't you? It's obvious you haven't mentioned whatever it is to her. Maybe your reasons for not asking are the same as hers for not bringing it up; she assumes if you wanted to do it, you'd have mentioned it."

Harry shook his head in wonderment. Luna always seemed to have the knack for getting to the heart of a matter, even when she had no idea what the matter was. Suddenly he felt very happy. This was the solution to his problems. Of course it was! Ginny had never refused him anything, really. And who knew better than Harry himself how hard it was to broach this topic. If Ginny would, then I won't need to seek it elsewhere. He ignored the little voice that reminded him he actually liked men in spite of what he'd told himself for years.

"Luna, I could kiss you!"

"I wouldn't," she replied with an other-worldly smile. "Whatever your problems are, I doubt they would be made better by you kissing another woman."

Neville looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow and they both convulsed with laughter.

"Don't care," Harry said. "I'm kissing you all the same."

"Well, if you insist," Luna said, closing her eyes and puckering up.

Harry kissed her cheek.

"That was disappointing. No wonder you and Cho Chang didn't hit it off. I'm surprised Ginny puts up with you. By the way, she said, 'tell him to get his skinny arse upstairs immediately, or he'll be wearing his balls for earrings.' I can't think that would be very attractive, so you'd best do as she says."

"Right," Harry said. "Very unattractive indeed. I'm done here. Let's go see if Hermione can translate this article."

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