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If I Don't Belong	By : danniperson Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 2253 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and I am not being paid to write this.

Chapter List
- 1-If I Don't Belong
- 1
IF I DON’T BELONG

Chapter One

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It was Harry‘s third time drinking firewhiskey, and it was no easier than the other times. Harry wondered if it ever did and bitterly considered that maybe, like life, it would never get easier…It was something to endure. He continued to drink through his coughs and hiccups until they ceased, one glass after the other.
“C’mon, Evan. Let’s say goodnight to Dada,” Ginny muttered quietly, coming around the couch that Harry was sitting on. In her arms was a yawning one year old boy with thick red hair and vivid emerald green eyes. Harry paused in pouring himself another glass, not feeling near the shame he figured he ought to. Men with beautiful wives and adorable sons shouldn’t want to drink themselves into a stupor. He wanted to be a good dad to his son, not some drunken asshole his son couldn‘t count on. This was only Harry‘s third drink of the stuff in his life, and the first since the birth of his child, Evan James Potter. There was no harm or shame in one bottle of firewhiskey after one long, hard day, was there? Maybe the entire bottle was a bit much, but to Harry it was tradition…If he opened the bottle, it was for good reason, and he couldn‘t stop until every last drop was in his system.
“Hey, Evan,” Harry muttered, reaching out to take his young son. Evan reached out eagerly and gasped onto Harry‘s sweater and leaned in to place a slobbery kiss on his cheek. “Dada!” Evan exclaimed happily and Harry chuckled and kissed his son‘s wet cheek. “I love you…Night, buddy,” Harry whispered, tickling his son‘s belly for a moment before letting Ginny take him back. Ginny said nothing, only offering a sympathetic smile before carrying their son upstairs. If only she really knew why he needed the drink.
The Auror department had been spending years arresting and trying different witches and wizards on charges of being a Death Eater and all of the crimes the group had committed. Some, like Bellatrix Lestrange, held onto the same hope she held onto the first time Voldemort fell, believing he was still alive and would return to them one day. Others wished to avenge their master’s death. A minority simply wished to carry on with Voldemort’s beliefs, not truly caring much about the man himself. There were brutal murders, rapes, and tortures happening all over Europe to those who had bravely fought in the war against Voldemort, but never frequent enough to give them much hope of finding anything. The new Head Auror, Kingsley Shackelbolt, had recently reached out to Severus Snape in hopes that the old spy would be able to provide them with any useful information.
For weeks, Snape denied them and Harry was grateful for it. Just the mention of the man’s name made him feel miserable, Harry couldn’t imagine what would happen to him if the man actually showed up. He did, though. Today, in the middle of the day, Snape showed up to give them the answers they needed and Kingsley wanted Harry to be there. The entire time! Several hours of today he spent in the presence of the man he still loved deeply. Now and then the man would shoot him an amused look that made him feel humiliation all over again, remembering their night together three years ago, the day before his wedding to Ginny. He was so close to the man, yet so far. He wanted to touch him and kiss him and beg him for something, even if Harry couldn’t quite define what that something was. It was like torture, but Harry sat bravely through it, doing his best to not react to anything and to get through his job.
Immediately after work, Harry had gone out to purchase this bottle of firewhiskey. He was tempted to buy more…Harry knew that this wasn‘t going to be Snape‘s last visit to the Auror‘s office. They would probably need his help until every last Death Eater was found. He also knew that if he had bought more than one bottle, he would be drinking more than one bottle tonight. He would just have to get them as the time called for them.
He had only seen the man once in the past five years since the battle. Yet somehow, he still harbored those deep feelings for the man. He could never truly be happy with Ginny because he had never gotten over Severus Snape and Harry didn’t think he ever would. How was it that such a cruel bastard had captured and held onto his heart for so long? What was so good about Severus Snape? A voice in his head demanded bitterly.
He was brave. One of the bravest men Harry knew. He had made a mistake in his youth in becoming a Death Eater, but he spent so much of his life repenting for those past sins. He was strong. He continuously went to Voldemort, no matter how many times the Dark Lord tortured him and no matter every time he went, he was risking his life. He was brilliant. He was one of the most clever men Harry had ever met. He excelled at so many things: Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, dueling, spellcraft, Occlumency, nonverbal and wandless magic…He was amazing. And he cared. The man was a master in the art of hiding things. He had survived as a spy for a long time because of that. But Harry knew he cared…About his students and colleagues. He had risked a lot in being a spy to help them and to save them. There was so much more to Severus Snape than the evil greasy git Harry had thought him to be for his first few years at school. Snape had been through so much and he had survived and he was still surviving, despite the prejudice others had against him as an ex Death Eater, despite all of the horrible things people still said about him and did to him for his past crimes. And Harry loved him more than he loved just about anybody. There was no getting over a man like Severus Snape. At least not for Harry Potter.
Harry downed the contents of his glass and refilled it eagerly. He wanted to drink until he forgot or drink until he couldn‘t feel the pain anymore, but in his experience, alcohol had never quite worked the way he wanted it to. There was no hope for him; no matter what he did he‘d be haunted by those dark eyes and that deep voice with its sarcastic remarks that could seduce Harry even at their cruelest. He had never truly forgotten and that love and pain had never gone away, but he had found a way to make it bearable…He fooled himself most days into accepting his perfect life and even thinking kindly of it. It wasn’t the life he wanted, but he had at least stopped focusing so much on his misery and at least tried to look at things in a better light. He had a family now, a real family like one he had never really had. He had a good job and good friends and a beautiful, talented, and caring wife. He had a lot to be grateful for and he knew it and he felt rotten for not being happy with it. Seeing Snape today only made it all so much worse.
“Hey, honey,” Ginny said quietly, coming up behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders, massaging gently.
Harry wanted to say something…He felt he owed it to her to say or do something nice. She was always so good to him. He really didn’t know why he couldn’t love her. “Hey,” Harry grunted, drinking more of his firewhiskey and filling up another glass.
“Might want to slow down with that, Harry,” Ginny said quietly, frowning, still rubbing his shoulders. Harry tensed up beneath her hands so she just rested them there for a moment.
“No…I don’t,” Harry replied quietly, gulping down more of it, enjoying the feel of it stinging down his throat. “I really need this tonight, Ginny.”
“Okay, Harry,” Ginny said after a moment, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. “I know it must be hard…Facing all of them…And with…with so many people we know dying,” Ginny said, voice cracking slightly. A couple of her old school friends, her year in Huffelpuff, had been among the recent murdered. Harry swallowed hard and drank more firewhiskey. He should be comforting Ginny and being there for her, not pitying himself because he wasn‘t with the person he wanted to be with. He felt like he should say or do something, but he just raised his glass to his lips again every time he felt like he should do something. He was tired of doing the things he should do.
“Yeah…It’s hard,” Harry muttered, unable to get the man’s face out of his head. All he could see was that sneer and the way those long fingers drummed against the table or traced those thin lips. He could hear every word insulting his intelligence and questioning Kingsley about allowing such incompetent fools on the Auror squad. He remembered using every ounce of self control he possessed to not reach across that table to grab the man and snog him senseless.
How on Earth could Harry feel so much for the man and Snape felt no different about him at all?
Harry wanted to scream, so he just drank. He didn‘t want to be an Auror, he didn‘t want to be married to Ginny, he didn‘t want to live in this house, he didn‘t want this life at all. This was the Harry James Potter people wanted, though. This was who he had to be. It was his responsibility. He was their hero, their role model…It wasn‘t like he could have what he did want. Why not live his life for everyone else? he thought bitterly.
“Well…I have practice early in the morning,” Ginny said uncertainly, her hands still hovering over Harry‘s arms. “I should probably get to bed…Unless…”
“I’m fine, Ginny. You go to bed,” Harry assured her, pouring himself another glass.
“Okay…Good night,” Ginny said, leaning down and Harry obediently turned his head to kiss his wife. “It’ll all get better soon…Just remember, I’m always here when you need me,” she whispered, kissing the side of his head before standing up and walking away. Harry sipped his firewhiskey as he listened to her walk upstairs. His green eyes glared at the walls, at all of the happy family pictures. Harry and Ginny’s wedding day, pregnant Ginny, Evan’s birth…The perfect little Potter family smiling down from the walls, like they were mocking him. Harry fingered his wand, thinking of spells he could use to hide the pictures or send them away or something. He didn’t want to look at them. He didn’t want to be here.
He finished off his glass and laid back on the couch, sloshing around the liquid left in the bottle. He had a little less than half left. With a flick of his wand the lights went out and the living room was black. He didn’t have to feel their eyes on him. He didn’t have to fall asleep beside his too perfect wife. He lifted his bottle blindly to his mouth and slowly drank and drank and drank, never moving the bottle and just staring into the darkness until there was nothing left.

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Author’s Note: This is the sequel to To Just Stay Alive and No One Will Ever See. If you can tell, all of these titles are coming from the song “Never Too Late“ by Three Days Grace lol. Anyway, this fic will have multiple chapters, though I‘m not sure how long it will be yet. Anyway, please review and let me know how I‘m doing!
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If I Don't Belong