Archive of Our Own

It was a lark. Just a small spell the girls had found hidden in a cupboard in the charms classroom. They’d all been driven to distraction. Studying for their NEWTS and ignoring the unresolved tensions of coming back to the place of the final battle like things hadn’t changed irrevocably.

So, they’d done the spell. A lark. A game. Just something fun to pass the time. To keep their minds off of the Great Hall and how it’d housed the bodies of their friends. Or off the classrooms where the Carrow’s had ‘taught’. Or off the corridors they’d run for their lives through.

A simple spell. A red string, it said. Romance, love, it promised. They’d probably not even do it right anyways.

The final year girls had all gathered up in the Gryffindor common room well after whatever curfew the younger students had. Most of the returning class who’d actually fought in the war were given some leeway in things. But even then they probably didn’t want anyone up all hours of the night practicing spells without proper supervision. But what could a bunch of giggling girls really do? Even if one was the saviour of the Wizarding World.

They’d done the spell. Nothing dark, no blood, no sacrifices. Just some runes done up in henna, a little clarity potion mixed with - oddly enough chamomile, and some intentful chanting in what Harrie thought was Japanese. Everyone had finished, feeling a waft of magic but more tired than anything else. It hadn’t shown, not right away, they’d all curled up under blankets with pillows there before the fire. Suddenly exhausted after the spell. And then.

There it was. A single red strand, wrapped thrice and tied in a neat bow about the left pinky. The thread trailed off and only the girl it was attached to could see it. They’d been quiet. Awed it had happened. But quiet.

They’d gone about their days as usual and only through quiet whispers traded in passing did they figure out where the threads lead.

For Ginny, it had gone to Dean. No surprise there, but definite frustration because they’d broken up and what was she to do? Go ask to be back with him just because of a little string? She’d only told Harrie and Hermione. Keeping it a secret from the rest and visibly unhappy afterwards. Any time the topic was brought up she’d change it to how she’d join the Hollyhead Harpies someday soon. Who needed a soul mate when you had quidditch?

Luna’s had gone right to Neville. And she’d kissed him bright and clear in the Great Hall and told him they’d have three children but only after they were bonded. He’d gone scarlet but had smiled at her and they’d sat down and ate like all was normal. Which, for Luna, maybe it was?

Hermione’s hadn’t gone to Ron. She’d told Harrie after Harrie had found her crying in the girls’ again. But she wouldn’t say to who the thread connected. She just shook her head and wiped away tears and looked like she’d gone to war all over again. Hermione did not break up with Ron. Harrie didn’t know if that made her thankful or worried. She wasn’t thinking about it. But her best friend’s relationship after that wasn’t quite the same.

For the rest of them, well, their threads didn’t connect to anyone in Hogwarts. They each found themselves outside at a time or another, with the little red line fading into the air about 100 meters off.

So, Harrie forgot about the thread, as best she could with it being in the corner of her eye at all times. She focused on her NEWTs. Letting it slip from her mind entirely as months passed. Her graduation came and went. Her invitation to the Aurors arrived and she rejected it soundly not wanting to chase any more dark wizards. Ministry functions cropped up and the Order reached out to her with questions about the remaining Death Eaters. Harrie said she’d done her part. She was set to testify at the final few trials - one for Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy (Draco’s having been informally held and him being pardoned due to a number of factors such as age and duress). One more trial was set that mattered to her. Severus Snape. She thought it was ludicrous he even needed a bloody trial after all she’d said and all the evidence piled up but the date was set. His recovery in St. Mungo’s almost finished. And Harrie -along with certain documents and testimony from Albus Dumbledore and members of the Order - were going to be put on display to protect Snape from a riled public still baying for blood.

She’d forgotten the thread entirely. Until, she was stood before the Wizengamot and they’d brought in Snape. And the thread had tangled neatly in his folded and cuffed hands.

“Ms. Potter? Ms. Potter, please, Ms. Potter, pay attention!”

Harrie snapped her gaze back to the Wizengamot. Eyes wide, breath wheezing from her lungs and pale as a corpse.

“Are you alright, Ms. Potter?” The voice asked, wavering and warbling in her ears. Harrie could only shake her head.

~~~

She testified, giving an impassioned speech that started from stilted numb lips until she let her honesty speak for her. The bravest man she knew. A true hero. A spy for the light. Giving of himself and his soul with every step.

And under every word she heard her pulse throb ‘my soul mate’.

But she didn’t speak that into existence.

Facing forward, she pulled from the Ministry first his pardon and then his Merlin of the First Order and finally reparations for all he’d done for the Wizarding World. Years of his life sacrificed to serve the Greater Good. She didn’t once let up in her grip on his safety. And she told herself it’s because it was the truth. He deserved his freedom. His honor. His accolades for years of pain and torture both physical and mental.

Severus Snape was free.

…And her soul mate….

“Fuuuuuck.” She breathed, finally alone after weeks of coaching through her words and Ministry meetings and Order functions and constantly people surrounding her. She was left blessedly by herself at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. It wouldn’t be for long. The Order had basically taken over the home for the celebration of the trial gone well. Everyone was still here. Would probably be so for hours more drinking up good Black alcohol reserves with fervor.

“Language.” Came a chide in the last voice she needed to hear right now.

Keeping her head down in her hands she chuckled mirthlessly. Steps bypassed her, cabinets opened, flame lit, water poured. A drifting scent of Earl Grey.

“One would assume by your attitude that you rather wished things had gone differently today.” He said, absently implying that she had lied and wanted him in Azkaban. Harrie tensed, sucking in a breath loudly before turning to face her arsehole of a soul mate.

“You didn’t believe my testimony?” She asked bitterly.

“I was…skeptical.”

Harrie huffed a laugh. His usual laconic way of being sarcastic making her shudder. Shudder, not shiver, she told herself. She didn’t like his voice. She didn’t like him. She trusted him though, and respected him. But…soul mate, really? Yet, the string was rudely short between them, floating with soft waves in the air like drifting on a current unseen with each of his concise movements as he prepared her tea.

“There shouldn’t have been a trial in the first place.” She said, watching him freeze at her words, back still turned to her.

“Ah, just a quick trip to Azkaban for me, then?”

She laughed loud at how wrong he was, a big bark of a noise that startled her. And made him look at her with narrowed eyes and a very familiar scowl.

“No, you git, they shouldn’t have put you to trial at all because you were a bloody spy for them and it was a fucking farce what hoops they made you jump through.” Her words heated and biting but not at him - for him - he set a tea cup before her, making her brows rise in surprise as he took a seat beside her. “They should have given you the Merlin months back, and they should never have put you in those manacles.”

Severus hummed at her, not answering one way or the other. Only to smooth out his scowl and nod for her to drink her tea. Feeling foolish and like she’d been played by him she did sip at the tea. The warmth slipping down her throat eased her ire. He watched her. Eyes dark as always, but without as much judgment as in the past. She knew more of him now. His history, his reasons, his motivations for saving her. Trust and respect she could begrudgingly give him even if she still thought he was a tosser at times. But she knew better than to expect him to have changed his opinion on her. Harrie would always be a Potter to Snape. Even if he’d only put up with her for her mother’s sake.

Bloody soul mate, she thought bitterly.

“So this mien of misery is entirely for the Ministry.” He said, half question, half observation.

Not entirely, she admitted in her mind but outwardly she just gave a small nod.

“You deserve your freedom. You’ve earned that.” Harrie could honestly say that. The last thing Snape needed was another leash around his neck. Even in the form of ‘love’. It’d been an easy decision to choose never to tell him about the thread. For many reasons, the least of which was that he still held no positive feelings for her even now after she’d stood up in his name against the entire Wizarding World.

“Spoken like the Chosen One. Deciding the lives and fates of those around you.” He said, not surprising her in the least.

“Is that what it sounds like to you?” She asked, eyes dropping to the twisting line of red between them.

“Goddess Potter.” He drawled, mockingly.

One part of her was flattered that he would ever liken her to a Goddess and the other part was insulted that he still couldn’t see Harrie through the haze of their history.

“Snape.” Harrie sighed, was it worth the pain of whatever verbal sparring he was wanting. She set the tea down on the saucer with a quiet clatter. A hush of good humor in the other room as the backdrop to their discussion. “Do you get off on fighting with me?”

Harrie was gratified at the way Snape choked at her question. The red rising to his cheeks was blotchy. And she’d not seen him this incensed in a long time. Her smile was bitten back but not hidden. While he was still off-kilter with her words she leant towards him across the table and said with a sly glint, “I know you have this image of who ‘Harrie Potter’ is in your mind. You’ve built it up from parts of my parents, from war propaganda, from the prophet and the prophecy. This snot-nosed little brat who has the world in the palm of her hand. Your very own ‘celebrity’ you’d said. But have you ever stopped to consider that you’re looking at things wrong. That it’s not all as it seems?”

The silence teemed between them, rising and rippling with waves much like the thread tying them together.

“I don’t expect your opinion of me to change. You can keep seeing me as you always have if that’s what you want, Snape. I won’t stop you.” With that she stood up and left her speechless soul mate sat alone at his own celebration.

~~~

It was like fate had it out for them. The string kept tugging them closer. Pulling them into one another’s orbit time and again. Harrie tried her best to leave Snape alone. To let him live his life as she lived hers. She was busy anyways. Avoiding the constant requests to join the Aurors. Trying to hold back the Prophet from releasing her ‘biography’ written by Skeeter of all people. Rebuilding efforts and taking up the Mantle of Heir to both Potter and Black Lordships. Harrie had thought going to Hogwarts and fighting a war was busy. This was somehow even more so. No down time when the world had expectations beyond her giving her life for them. And by all means Snape should have been just as busy as her. He had his own battles with ‘fame’ and a budding business called Prince’s Potions.

And yet.

There they were, seated across from each other at a Fundraiser. Twin expressions of fake pleasantness masking a considering unhappiness at their circumstances. Harrie regretted the color of her dress, the red matching the thread that undulated around plates and glasses and flowers. She tilted her head away from him, though her eyes still picked out the details. He seemed taller and yet smaller now. Like he was human after everything. Like she’d outgrown her childish image of him. Larger than life as a Professor then. Now he was just a man. A tall one, straight postured, stiff upper lip. But not a villain, not some shadowy figure.

Her date pulled her focus, offering her a plate of hor d’oeurves. Hugh was pretty, oddly reminiscent of Malfoy in that he was varying shades of pale but without the constant pinched expression. Harrie knew that this was who everyone pictured her with. Their coloring was a nice complement. Her dark hair, tanned skin, green eyes and petite stature against his tall pale skin, blond hair, and dark blue eyes. Like the dollies she’d begged Petunia to buy her once long ago before she realized that she didn’t get the things she asked for. That she’d never get anything she wanted. With the word ‘ungrateful’ bandied about. Harrie had no sexual interest in her date, and he in her, thankfully. The man had an eye for gents that put her at ease while allowing her to escape the rumor mill. He was a good friend and nothing more.

For some odd reason though, Harrie wanted to tell Snape of the ruse. Wanted him to know that piece of information. Thus, she’d endeavor not to tell him. Just another thing to keep from her soul mate.

Instead, she smiled sweetly at her date and ate a cream puff and tried not to let her eye wander to the man who embodied her newest dose of fate wallowing at their table. It was a long night. As had been the last few times they’d run into each other. A party thrown by the Malfoy’s to reclaim the darker parts of the Wizarding World. A gathering of business entrepreneurs and wealthy witches and wizards. The opening of a new wing for Hogwarts dedicated to the knowledge betterment of Muggle ways and how to integrate with the rest of the world. Each a worthy cause that dragged on with every moment she avoided looking at her soul mate.

~~~

A month after the fund raiser yet again they’d run into one another at a gathering for the Order. Of course this one she could not avoid and from what she’d heard he’d been goaded into coming along by the Weasleys and Kingsley. Hosted at Grimmauld Place for old time’s sake Harrie had hired in extra house elves and snuck away as each new person arrived. It was her home, she was allowed to dodge seeing them immediately. At least that was her justification. Her date had opted out, he’d finally found a handsome wizard at a Quidditch game, and had told her he’d put in his notice of their faux break up. Still friends she’d wished him well on his date. She’d have to go looking for someone else or put up with the Prophet stoking the furor of a single Golden Girl again.

“Fuuuuuck,” She groaned into her hands, hidden on the upper landing with a cup of tea sat beside her.

“Language.” Came a familiar chiding.

Harrie allowed herself another groan at knowing she’d have to speak with Snape. You’d think it’d be more pleasant to chat with your soul mate but she was dreading what he’d say already.

“Snape.” She greeted.

“Hiding away again, Potter? Very cowardly behavior for a Gryffindor.”

And it began. Holding in her sigh, she dropped her hands to meet his eyes. “We can’t all be the embodiment of our Founders every second of every day.”

“Ah, so you’ve given up on ever improving?” He asked, biting as usual. But she almost found that funny. It was mildly ironic. She had given up in one way. Harrie had long given up her hope for a love to end all loves. Any romance was off the table. And considering that Snape, of all people, was her supposed soul mate…well, yeah, he wasn’t wrong.

With that stream of thought bubbling through her mind she didn’t answer in the proper amount of time.

“Potter?” He asked, making her eyes lift to him and Harrie was hit with a heavy dose of exhaustion suddenly.

“Do you really think I’m a coward?” She hated the words even as they left her lips but she wanted to know the truth. Pleaded with her every ounce of being that he be honest at least just this once. The question took him off guard, she could see that easily. They way he rocked back on his heels, the wince in the corners of his eyes, the assessing gaze roving over her as she felt her body droop under the weight of his opinion. Silence dragged on uncomfortably between them and Harrie felt what little hope she’d had hidden trickle away. “Never mind, Snape, never mind. Just forget I asked.”

Harrie sighed into her hands. Expecting her soul mate to disappear back down into the party and never speak with her again. But he didn’t. Instead the stair beside her creaked with his bulk as he settled in next to her. A quiet charm muttered over her tea had it steaming again as he held it out for her to take.

“Potter…H…Potter. I- The Wizarding World, knows that you are the least cowardly among us all. Hiding out from a party is not true cowardice it’s just good common sense. The sense of which is sorely lacking in many of your acquaintances.”

Harrie took a sip of her tea, savoring the hot liquid and comfort of Earl Grey in her mouth so she wouldn’t have to find the words for this conversation. From the corner of her eye the red thread of their possibilities wavered in an invisible wind. After the tea had cooled on her tongue and she’d had to swallow she turned just the barest amount to him.

“I don’t like the parties. I’ve never liked them. Or the fame or the looks or the press.” Admitting that to him was like a release valve for the stress of who she’d grown to become. This shell of a person. She wondered if it had felt at all like what it’d been to be a spy. To lie constantly. To pretend at someone else to everyone you met. Even Ron and Hermione barely knew her nowadays. After her best friends had broken up they’d become more and more focused on their careers. Hermione was always trying to leverage the fame to greater lengths for her causes and Ron had eaten up any and all attention to become Head Auror at a young age. They deserved it but they didn’t hate it like she did. Didn’t want to hide. To run away. Harrie almost missed the year she’d spent in that tent on the run, with only those she considered family at her side. Out of the eyes of the world it was like all she’d had to be was Harrie.

“Why do you do it?” He asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

Harrie shrugged. “The only option I can think of is to leave. And I’m not ready for that yet. Sometimes I like what I can do. The ways I can help others, the fund raising, the call to attention for a good cause, the rebuilding. I like that this - ‘this’ - can make something positive happen. Other times…I just want it done with.”

He took that the wrong way. She could see it, the way his shoulders tightened, the deepening of the lines on his face. And she’d said it that way. Hadn’t meant it necessarily like that at first glance. But it wasn’t far off. Harrie had thought before of wanting ‘it done with’. She’d never acted on it, though. She shook her head at him, taking another sip of her tea and praying he’d not go down that road.

“You could…you could come to me.” He said, pausing when Harrie gaped at his offer. But he truly was brave because he spoke further, “When you’re at the parties, the events. You can come to me and it will keep the others away if only for a bit.”

A safe space. He was saying he’d protect her from the stressors of socializing by being his usual pariah self. Harrie saw it then. The glimmer of why the string was attached to him. Because that strange offer had made her pulse kick up and her cheeks pink and maybe her eyes mist just the smallest bit.

“Truly?” She asked, quiet, not wanting to break this moment.

Snape grimaced but he nodded. And they sat like that, in peace, for a while before someone shouted her name and she had to leave this new safe space that Snape provided.

~~~

He was true to his word. Any time Harrie could feel her skin crawling from the eyes on her. Any time she ground down her teeth at the pulling and prodding of the press. Any time she felt her lungs tighten knowing she’d have to speak publicly. He’d be there, quiet, grumpy, glaring at others off to the side. And he’d let her into that zone of safety.

It was easy then, with each new stolen moment of peace, of herself, to fall for him just the littlest bit. She didn’t mean to, honestly. Harrie had no plans to feel anything beyond maybe friendship with him. But he just kept being himself. The same self that was the half-blood prince. The same self that chose the thorniest path for years to keep both her alive and the Wizarding World free of the darkest influence. Granted, it was the same man who also was a bit of an arse. That no longer seemed to be as much of a negative as it once was.

Harrie tracked the waving red line across a crowded ballroom filled with people who kept trying to stop her on her path. It felt like everyone kept reaching out to her. Asking for pieces of her. She’d immediately regretted coming to the party. Even if it was for Hermione. One of her outreach programs had taken off, this time for Giants. It was great that Hermione’s work was picking up. That others were finally seeing the underprivileged communities that needed looking after. But Harrie didn’t want to be a spokesperson for yet another thing and by coming to the event she’d unofficially agreed to be seen approving everything. Which, yeah, okay she did, but it was exhausting.

So, she was instead following the line of their tether in the hope that maybe she could breathe again and have a bit of time to herself. Through the throng she spied the column of black that she knew so well. Harrie slowed her steps the closer she came. Even after so many times with him helping her she still didn’t know how to greet him. She couldn’t call him Professor and Severus was far too close and Snape…well, it was his name. Clearing her throat delicately she knew she got his attention by the way his brow twitched.
“Potter.” He greeted.

“Snape.” She said quietly, sneaking in beside him before he could change his mind about having her near him. Harrie just kept waiting for him to turn to her and tell her she was the last person he wanted near him. But he didn’t shoo her away. Just cast a glance down her form before tutting and looking off into the crowd.

After the silence had lasted long enough that her nerves had settled he spoke, “Why are you running away this time?”

“Does there need to be a reason?” She asked and then immediately regretted it.

“If you have no validity behind your behavior…” He drawled.

Harrie sighed. She could have held out for longer. She could have tried harder to redirect other’s focus from her. She could stop using him as a shield. But Harrie felt called to him, not just by the thread trying them together. By questions and curiosity and a vague interest to know how he thinks. About her, about the Wizarding World, about anything, really. She had yet to build up the courage to ask him any questions. Harrie did listen, though, to the off handed observations about the people around them. To his musings on politics idly said under his breath. And to whatever passed his lips to her.

“Potter, for how long will you hide?” He peered at her from the corner of his eye. A glint of dark light that sunk her heart.

“Is it really so bad to have me come to you?” Internally, she winced at her words. When had she become so needy? Her sigh was part grumble of disgust at herself. Harrie shook her head and looked away from him before speaking, “My apologies, I’ll leave you to your corner.”

She’d made it all of three steps away before a hand on her wrist halted her. Initially she was annoyed, she hated touches even as she craved them. Harrie couldn’t tolerate strangers touching her, she barely allowed her friends these days. But when she looked back and saw long pale fingers stained with potion fumes clasping her there was no more irritation and none of the disgust or crawling skin that others made her feel. Instead it was like small sparks. Tiny bursts of light where they touched.

Worse, was the way the thread, a deep blood red, had shortened to the smallest length yet. The tip of his pinky brushed over the knuckle of hers. Wound tight and bright she couldn’t look away. When his hand left hers she ached for it back. But she made no move to reach for him, just turned the smallest fraction to look him in the face. Careful and cautious still.

“I do not rescind my offer of assistance.”

He was giving her permission? Again? Her brow rose at him in question, a minor mimic of his own look.

“Merely curious if there is an estimate on how often I can expect you.” Was that humor in his eyes?

“Were you expecting me to one day decide I enjoy social gatherings?” The sarcasm heavy in her voice. It made his lips twitch in what might otherwise be a smile.

“Anything is possible.” He murmured.

Those words hit her in ways she wasn’t expecting. She’d forgotten that hope. That belief. That anything was possible. Harrie remembered feeling that way when she’d first been told about magic. When she’d first seen Hogwarts from the boats, the floating lights on the ceiling, the moment when her wand recognized her or she first flew on a broom. ‘Anything is possible.’ She thought to herself. How had she forgotten? Harrie had done the impossible so many times before and yet she kept giving up on any chance at a relationship with Snape. Whether romantic or otherwise. She’d thought it impossible. Told herself that, time and again. And yet?

“Is it?” She asked, more to herself than him. He frowned at her.

“If you’re expecting me to be the one to give you a rousing talk of positivity you would be highly mistaken.”

Harrie’s laugh was genuine for all it was quiet and she thought she saw his lips twitch. How odd, she marveled, that they could find humor and peace together. On that thought she looked back out over the crowd, wincing at the thought of maneuvering through the conversations there, and glanced back at Snape. His brow arched at her, not a blatant invitation, more of a dare. She shuffled back into the dome of his dour persona, glad for the reprieve of others and thought over his first question.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll need a safe harbor,” She murmured to him. Honest.

“’Safe Harbor’”, He asked without asking.

Silent for a moment she considered all that they were. Not friends, not a weak enough connection for acquaintances, not more, not less. “If that’s alright?” She asked, nervous that he would send her away even though he’d just let her close again. Harrie would go if he asked it. He deserved his peace undisturbed but she was selfish enough to need this break from the choking grip of the rest of her social life. From the corner of her eye she saw Snape’s head dip, the curtain of his hair swaying with the subtle movement. Her eyes trailed down his form, settling on his hand and the thread anchored there. Without thinking it through she blurted, “Do you think we could ever be friends?”

Harrie gave a full body wince at the way he froze. Maybe it was in her mind but she was certain that the temperature around them dropped a few degrees. She took a shaky sip of her forgotten drink to fill the awkwardness she’d created.

“I do not have friends, Potter.”

Ouch, she thought, the way he’d said her name was reminiscent of how it’d been uttered so many years back. The hint of loathing an undercurrent. But it wasn’t a no. Not a rejection outright. Some of that recklessness spoke through her, “Would you like to have one?”

His head turned toward her slowly on a swivel, like one of the horror muggle movies Hermione had recommended her back when they’d last spoken. Instead of being scary it made Harrie smile. Nothing could ever be as scary as her reality had been and this was just another scare tactic of his. She saw his eyes widen at her expression before he lidded his eyes with suspicion.

“Don’t you have a beau that would disagree at the deprivation of your company?”

What a fancy way to ask if she was dating someone, a small voice in the back of her head said in humor. The voice being hers she chuckled and shook her head. “No, the last person who enjoyed my company found their happiness elsewhere and I’m rather lacking in people who have time to be my friend.”

Dark brows furrowed at her in thought. “What would I need of…your…friendship?”

“I could be your very own ‘celebrity’?” She teased him gently with a smile and a nudge to his side that surprised them both.

“My very own celebrity.” He drawled. The inadvertent claim of ownership made her shiver. Harrie hoped he took it as a cold room and not the truth which was that she found herself not minding the idea of him claiming her.

“Maybe everyone else has their own celebrities that require more time and affection?” She quipped.

“I can’t imagine anyone would ever choose another over the ‘Chosen One’.”

Buoyed by the pseudo compliment she smiled at him and shrugged. Willing the movement to look elegant. It caused a flutter of waving down the thread stretched between them catching her eye.

“You keep looking at my hands, are you checking for the Dark Mark or something else?” He asked, startling her.

“No.” She answered honestly, not denying, as her head snapped up to meet his eyes. “No, I’m not looking for the Mark, I just-“

There she clammed up, mind whirring through worse and worse options. I keep seeing the red string of soul mates and fates between us? I was staring at your hands because they look like they’d feel great on my body? Just checking for a wedding ring? That last one sounded suspiciously like something Luna would want her to say.

Outlandish, she was outlandish. And her cheeks were pinking the more she struggled to think of an excuse that he’d accept.

“You’re just?” He said, raising that brow at her in question.

“Uhm,” Her eyes darted down to his hands, the blatant look made him flex, an annoyingly attractive action that smoothed his pale skin over knuckles and muscles and delicate blue veins in a way she couldn’t unsee. Her mouth went dry and she bit her lip in feminine panic.

“Potter?” He called, causing her to meet his eyes only to dart away at the reminder that he could practically read minds or at the least read her like a bloody book.

“Would you be my friend?” She blurted, and hated herself just a little bit more for the indelicacy of it all. What was she? A child on the primary school playground? His stunned expression was worth it though and the small nod he gave her did something strange to her heart. A squeeze, a skip, a double beat. Perhaps she should see a mediwitch.

“Great! Friends.” She said like it was all finalized and the strangest thing hadn’t just occurred. Both finding something about him attractive and getting him to consent to a friendship. Across the room Hermione waved for Harrie’s attention. With a quick nod to Snape she made her escape. The crowd swallowing her up leaving Snape to his peaceful safe harbor without her.

~~~

“I don’t think I’ve ever actively tried to be someone’s friend before. What do friends do exactly?” Harrie asked the next time she’d followed the thread to him at yet another Order gathering. The weather was nice and they were outside of the Burrow, a massive tent held almost everyone she could think of and then some and Harrie was mightily glad to be hidden from view in the grass. Snape was sat, stretched out under the unending blue sky, a crow among the reeds when she joined him. She could tell she startled him only by the way his thighs twitched under the dark fabric pulled taut. Not that she was staring at his thighs.

“Is there a need for friends to do something?” He asked in response to her question.

“I think so…” she murmured, settling in beside him, her own clothes a dark wine red suiting his. “I think we’ve already done some ‘friend’ things. Meet and speak at parties. Have tea together. Chat. But it feels like we’re missing ‘something’ that would officially make us friends. You know?”

“No, Potter, I do not in fact ‘know’.” He shut down her thoughts as his eyes slid shut and his head tilted back. Sunning like a cat. Harrie watched for a long moment, indulgent now that he couldn’t see her watching. As was becoming habit her gaze tracked over him before settling on his pinky where the thread was wrapped. Okay, fine, she was staring.

“Would you maybe consider going out for drinks?” The question slipping past her guard.

“I do not drink.”

Huh, she thought, mind parsing through her memories only to find he was absolutely correct. She’d never once seen him have a sip of anything alcoholic. “Then, a pastry?”

“Pastry?” he parroted, the tone implying that she’d lost what marbles she had left.

“Well, I assume you’d not be willing to commit to spending a full meal with me and I don’t believe you drink coffee and since you don’t drink alcohol…a pastry.” Her logic was sound. Who didn’t like buttery bread goods?

“Very well, Potter, I will join you for…a pastry…at your leisure.”

Harrie blinked, not having expected him to agree so easily. She narrowed her gaze on him. Wondering if his agreeableness was due to some kind of scheme.

“I can feel your brain bubbling over in the cauldron of your head, Potter. Steady yourself. I am only human. For a pastry I will suffer your presence.”

Her smile escaped, Harrie sighed in relief and let the sunlight and quiet of being near to her soul mate soak into her as her own eyes slid shut. It was the best afternoon she’d had in a long time and it was spent with the two of them silent as the chaos of the Burrow and the Order droned on in the background.

~~~

The ‘pastry’ in question was a pain au chocolat, purchased by Harrie for the both of them. One each. Sharing a pastry would be a step too far even for her. Though the image of her pinching off a piece of flaky pastry with melted chocolate and holding it out for him to eat directly from her fingers wasn’t quite as displeasing as it should have been. In fact, Harrie was busy preparing her tea just the way she liked it while willing her face to unheat itself at the thought.

“You have a sweet tooth?” He asked, or observed in this case as she almost accidentally poured another spoonful of sugar into her cup.

“Ah, yes.” Eloquent, she mocked herself internally, returning the extra sugar to it’s container under his scrutinizing eye. Off to a great start, she thought. Harrie watched him doctor his own cup. A splash of cream, a single spoon of sugar. She noted it down for future ‘pastry’ meet ups. If he’d ever put up with her again after this. Clearing her throat she tried for friendly conversation and maybe a chance to sate some of her curiosity. “How is Prince’s Potions?”

Snape slowly sipped his tea, meeting her eyes as though challenging her to take back her attempt as small talk. Unluckily for him she was committed. After he’d silently returned it to it’s saucer and placed a single finger on the edge of his pastry plate he spoke, “Business is thriving.”

That was it? “I heard that you had invented a fair few new potions. Someone at the last Ministry event was raving about the efficacy of your brews.”

“I have…” He said at a glacial pace, then having possibly decided that she was not luring him into a chance at mockery he continued. “With the money from the Merlin and reparations from my part in the war I was able to set up shop. My savings and inheritances contributed. I hired a small staff and have had a proper chance at research and development.”

Harrie nodded that she was following along, she had questions of course. Why a potion’s shop? What inheritances? But she kept her mouth shut.

“I’ve always wanted to create and re-enervate the potions industry. Wolfsbane, for instance, may only affect a marginalized population but with how small the Wizarding World is, the ripples are far-reaching. Remus had consented to assisting me with my adjustments. We were able to work together before he passed to replace some key ingredients in the potion with easier obtainable items without erring in consistency of the brew. I’ve spoken with the Ministry on patenting the recipe for them to make for their citizens at next to no cost.” He paused to take a crisp, clean bite of his pastry while Harrie worked to get over her shock.

“But…you had him removed from Hogwarts? And your past together?” She needed to know, the words still came out small. Harrie prayed that she wasn’t destroying whatever openness they’d fostered.

“Correct. As I should have. He put students in danger with his negligence. Ironically, we spoke after, when I was headmaster, he’d been made my correspondent with the Order after Albus’s…passing. Our past had no significance on creating something that could help others. I didn’t have to like the man to work with him.”

Harrie’s laugh escaped her on that last note, because as an adult she knew exactly what that was like. And respected him for his stance all the more. When no more questions came from her he continued to tell her with an energy she’d never have expected of him all about the potions he’d developed and the ideas he had. Fascinated, she watched, chiming in from time to time when her curiosity got the better of her but more than happy to just listen. That same passion he’d had when he’d first flown into the potion’s classroom bloomed on his face. An art form and it’s artist. It took her breath away and when she next came back to her senses their pastry plates were filled with crumbs, the shop was cleaning up for closing, and Harrie had had one of the most marvelous evening in years.

With Snape.

Her soul mate…and now friend. The realization must have hit him at almost the same time because Snape looked about them stunned to find that not once had they fought. The only bitter words had been for potion ingredient suppliers and the Ministry’s machinations and not at all towards her. Both of them breathed in the quiet air and the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, they enjoyed each other’s company.

On the outer walk of the shop, Harrie stalled his retreat with a soft touch to his arm. When he didn’t pull away she smiled.

“Would you care to get another pastry this weekend?” She hoped that her feelings weren’t heard in the words. The tentative way she waited for him to stamp out whatever this was.

“Perhaps…Sunday afternoon?” He asked instead.

At Harrie’s smile and nod he tilted his head at her, “Here, 2 PM.”

She watched him walk away, the red thread bouncing between them looked almost as hopeful as she felt.

~~~

They’d met for ‘pastries’ and friendly conversation three more times before Harrie and Snape both attended an event she loathed. This one was a favor from Hugh; her prior faux-beau as they’d taken to calling each other jokingly. The man’s lover was a publisher and they were doing a launch party for a new book written by Skeeter. Not Harrie’s ‘biography’ thankfully. But a book around the Death Eaters and the end of the Dark Lord. Like Skeeter had any real clue on what had happened.

Though, Harrie had to hand it to her, the release of Dumbledore’s biography had shaken the foundations of the Wizarding World. His connections with Grindelwald, his prior views on the Greater Good, and his sensationalized love life. Now, Skeeter was going for another best seller.

This favor would be marked completed and Harrie, bitter about the book as she was, was grateful that Snape was there. How he’d been convinced to be so she had absolutely no clue. She waited all of three minutes of socializing before giving in to follow the red string of fate. He was standing tall, exuding intimidation in spades when she found him holding up a column not far from the French windows.

“It’s a miracle that you’re here. Who lured you into this trap?” She joked in a hushed voice.

“I know the publisher, my hope was to gain an agent for my potion’s recipes. Had I known this fete was on behalf of Rita Skeeter and for what topic I would have looked elsewhere.”

“Ah, a potion’s book? That’ll be brilliant.” Harrie said, sidling in next to him so close she could feel the heat of his body beside hers. She missed his skeptical expression at first in favor of watching the thread between them shorten to only a hand span. When she spied his thoughts she smiled up at him. “Well, your notes in your old text book we’re phenomenal. I can only imagine your thoughts on the subject have improved since your youth.”

Snape’s brow furrowed, a traditional Snape scowl, she noted but without any of the ire. “You read my notes?”

“Yes,” she dithered, recalling the one conversation they’d had in regards to it. After her use of his spell he’d figured out how she’d come by it and confronted her following Dumbledore’s death. “The Half-Blood Prince.”

“And you consider them…’phenomenal’?” Full skepticism.

“Basically helped me pass my NEWTs. Still put out that it went up in fiend fyre.”

His face was comical. “You never cease to surprise me, Potter.”

“Harrie.”

“Mn?”

“We’re friends now, my friends call me Harrie.” She was really hoping her cheeks weren’t too flushed. Her face felt hot but maybe the lighting was dim enough he wouldn’t notice.

Snape hummed then in another show of agreeableness, “Harrie.”

The rumble of his voice slid down her spine like a caress and she wasn’t able to hide the shiver she made. His eyes narrowed on her making her envision a rabbit ensnared by the gaze of a fox.

“Well, either way, the publisher would have to be barmy not to take your book. I know of an agent for this publisher. I could chat with them, if you’d like?” She immediately wanted to take back the offer and insinuation that he use her clout and connections to succeed. But before she could open her mouth he spoke.

“Your newest love interest, I presume? The man you first greeted upon entering. You looked quite close.”

Harrie blinked up at him. Then it clicked. He’d been watching her. “Oh, yes, I mean no! Not a love interest. Uhm, but yes, that’s the man. My friend is dating him. In fact, my friend is the reason I was lured into this trap myself.”

“I was under the assumption that you lacked in friends?”

She felt like she was waging a war of words. Swallowing down her nerves she tried to win this battle. “This friend in particular moved away to be with the agent. So, we don’t meet anymore. Just an owl every now and then.”

Snape made a noise that Harrie took as her success in verbal battle. Her shoulders slumped the smallest amount in relief. She took a fortifying sip of her drink. Not alcohol, she’d remembered his words and had asked for a fruit juice. This one being something tropical like papaya or mango. Harrie had no clue but it was orange and the sugar was keeping her going. She choked on that sip when Snape said, “My friends may regard me as Severus.”

After she’d recovered from her disaster of a reaction, he’d chuckled at her scowl.

“Severus.” Why hadn’t she said his first name before this, she thought. It tasted like parseltongue. Rolled from her mouth in a delicious way. Harrie licked her lips to try and catch the taste of it. Only to spy dark eyes following the action of her tongue. Was that? Was he watching? She bit her lip, a small test, and caught him out. Snape was staring at her mouth.

But that made no sense, she reminded herself. She probably just still had orange juice on her face.

“Do I- do I have something on my face?” She asked. As she would have any friend close by.

Except Snape’s eyes widened as he shook his head before looking away from her, in the complete opposite direction in fact. That same something that her heart did every time she met up with him now happened again. Harrie caught her breath at the sheer idea that maybe, possibly, her soul mate was…attracted…to her? She’d found herself attracted to him. Not just his hands anymore. His hair, his eyes, his form, his lips. He was an accumulation of attractive elements all built into a man who drew her eye in any room. Maybe not conventionally attractive. Nose a little too large for his features. Skin still slightly sallow from lack of sun. Crooked teeth he hid unless he snarled. But she’d find herself overlooking or even admiring those details of his from time to time.

She just never thought he might do the same.

Harrie watched him, ignoring the state of the party entirely in favor of this new sign from Snape. Until her name was called and her ‘friend’ or ‘faux-beau’ approached her.

“Hugh,” She greeted with a smile, kissing his cheek. Now here was a pretty bloke. Not her type but definitely fit the bill for conventionally attractive. “I’m here, as requested.”

“Only took a few teeth pulled,” He joked, grinning at her. “Have you seen ‘my’ agent yet?”

“I spoke with him when I first came in. Skeeter, really, Hugh? You know how I feel about her.”

“Your last letter was rather scathing.” His chuckle cut off abruptly and Harrie found herself and Hugh both under the scrutiny of a truly blistering Snape scowl.

“Hugh, this is my friend, Severus. Severus, this is Hugh.” She’d hoped the introductions would smooth the way but it only seemed to stiffen Snape’s spine.

“I see.” He drew out the two small words in a way that had Harrie questioning just what he was supposed to have ‘seen’. “We both attended a Ministry function a while back, I believe. You were Harrie’s date?”

“Ah, yes, not meant to be though, was it dearest?” Hugh joked, his smile crumbling under Snape’s narrowed eyes.

“Alas, no. And for the best. You’ve moved onto greener pastures.” Harrie offered, catching Snape’s attention. The monolith of darkness he was portraying just then hummed in thought. Hugh shied back, letting her go with a grimace more than a smile.

“I’ll write you, thank you again for coming. It means a lot to me.” He rushed to say, his worried glances between her and Snape belying his nerves.

“Of course, what are friends for. Go enjoy the party, Hugh.”

With that he scurried off. She’d never thought a man could run away from her so fast before. Harrie let out a small chuckle at the state of her ‘love life’ if she could call it that. A frigid soul mate at her side and her ex and longest relationship to date a very much gay man.

“Your friend.” Snape drawled.

“Yes. Hugh is lovely.”

“Do you have relations with all your friends?”

That question came from nowhere and hit her over the head like a frying pan. Harrie was knocked senseless. Had he sounded…jealous? Or was he insinuating she was a slut? Or…was that a request that their friendship consist of ‘relations’?

“Uhm,” She said, the picture of ineloquence.

“Had I known how close you like to keep your friends I would have factored that into our relationship.”

Lost at sea in this conversation Harrie stared up at Snape stupefied. Her wits remained deserted when he lifted a hand, the one with the string tied to it’s smallest finger, and traced her jaw with the back of his knuckles in what could only be called a caress.

“Is this the plot behind your ploy of friendship?” He asked. But she had no answers for him as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip. Harrie could only go along as he pulled her mouth open with the smallest pressure. Her face was aflame and he was smirking at her. The shutter of a camera and the blinding light of a flash startled her badly. Snape wandlessly and wordlessly summoned the camera in question and turned it into ash with the turn of his wrist while a petrified wizard whimpered.

“No photos without permission.” He enunciated clearly. The photographer practically flew away from them.

It was only after she’d breathed a sigh of relief that she noticed how close she’d come to Snape. Pressed chest to side in fact with his hand on her lower back bracing her. He really was tall from this vantage point, she noted idly.

“Harrie.”

She looked up at him, unsure of what to do with this turn of events.

Harrie blinked her brain clear of the haze of lustful thoughts she was having and reminded herself that she was still at a publisher party with Skeeter somewhere in attendance. The woman who had made it a career to write misinformation regarding Harrie. And here Harrie was playing at flirting with Severus Snape, a former Death Eater, her once Professor, and a man 20 years her senior. The trashy article practically wrote itself. Skeeter would melt into a puddle of nosy joy if she caught even a whiff of this. She couldn’t start this here, if there was anything to even start.

There was one thing she swore was real, her soul mate had just flirted with her. Blatantly.

After that Harrie was tugged off into the party by headstrong fools, though her eyes wandered back to Severus every few minutes. And each time he’d meet her gaze with a considering look that was equal parts terrifying and exciting. If she didn’t know better she’d think that expression meant he wanted to eat her whole. But she knew better, she did, and her soul mate was barely willing to entertain a friendship. Surely he couldn’t want…more?

Could he?

~~~

Pastries, she reminded herself. They were just normal pastries. Though the way he slowly tore off a piece of flaky buttered bread and placed it carefully into his mouth then sucking the melted chocolate clean from the pad of his thumb was making it seem…erotic.

A pastry could not be erotic, right?

Harrie swallowed, not realizing that she’d licked her lips the same time as he had. That his eyes tracked the movement the same as hers.

“Do you agree?” He asked.

She blinked, blinked again. No question was lodged in her brain. She was absolutely certain he hadn’t asked a question. But Harrie could also not for the life of her recall what they’d been talking about.

“Huh?”

He smirked and took up another bite of sinful pastry.

~~~

His hand was on the small of her back. Had been since she’d followed the thread to him. Snape had smiled - smiled! - at her approach. Not even that smirk thing he liked to do where she also felt like he was laughing at something she didn’t catch. No, the man had outright smiled at her. Granted, not a large one, he didn’t show his teeth. Just the corners of his lips twitching up, it creased his face attractively, made all those lines in his face seem like they were drawn there by happiness and not strife. She wanted him to smile again but she’d settled for that hand at the base of her spine. It felt like a brand, Harrie was certain she could outline each finger in her mind, almost feel the calluses rasping through the formal robe dress she wore.

She peeked at him, but he was peering out at the crowd, ignoring her as he sometimes did. Not in any bad way, mind, just enjoying the silence. Almost…enjoying the company?

Harrie shook her head at thought, looking out into the crush of people who were held back from her only by the sheer aura of Snape. She missed entirely the way his own dark eyes found her and how he now was giving that smirk.

His fingers lightly pet over her waist and Harrie shivered. It had to be all in her mind. A flirtatious Snape.

~~~

The Order had met up yet again at Grimmauld, this time to celebrate the announcement of Luna and Neville’s baby. It wasn’t the full order but most everyone who had fought in the war was there. Harrie wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Yes, it was her home, but couldn’t they have done this elsewhere. Somewhere bright and cheerful, perhaps? But Luna had asked in her angelic way and Harrie had immediately agreed. The look of joy and love on the two soul mate’s faces was both something she cherished and something she ached over. All the same, she was there, after having coordinated with Kreacher - who against all odds apparently adored Luna and children in general (who knew?! Not Harrie!) - about all of the refreshments, she’d vanished up the stairs to the second landing as was her usual hideaway haunt.

Snape wasn’t going to be there, she was certain. Luna and Neville had both been in charge of the guest list and the last person Neville would want would be Snape. Luna, though, she might…but Harrie wasn’t holding out hope for her ‘safe harbor’ of a soul mate to show.

Which is probably why she only blinked at him like a pygmy puff, eyes wide, when he came ghosting up the stairs that always creaked under her foot. He held two cups of tea with a small plate filled with a smattering of refreshments floating behind him. Snape gave her a nod and that smile that made her twitchy before joining her on the step. Harrie took the cup by habit, giving a quiet moan at the rush of warm earl grey just the way she liked it.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He rumbled back, matching her hushed register.

They both were quiet, and Harrie was enjoying the company. The sounds of the party down below filtering up to them. When she turned to him her eye traveled the short length of red twine between them. It landed on his hands, holding the delicate china with more grace than she had in her pinky. She was in awe of him, at a sudden epiphany. Harrie had always thought him the premier pure blood as a youth. He knew all the rules, he wore the most formal of wizarding clothes, he kept a stiff back and meticulous posturing. His hands were always neat and tidy and he spoke with a lilt that required you to listen. But she’d seen where he’d come from. Who he’d been as a child. This poise he’d mastered was all his own intent. He’d made himself to be who he wanted to be. Even if it wasn’t someone most people liked he had chosen to craft himself to his own satisfaction.

Without thinking, she said, “You’re brilliant.”

“For a cup of tea?” He drawled, a brow raised at her.

“No.” Harrie added quietly. When she didn’t say more he peered at her, considering her words. She could feel the scrutiny like a touch. It made her want to stretch and purr like a cat. When had that happened? When had his eyes on her turned from something intimidating to something she languished in? Her head tilted towards him, body pulled into his gravity and when she looked up through her lashes he was watching her still. Harrie was caught up in the darkness. It was one part of him she’d long since considered beautiful.

“Harrie,” He murmured, and was his head tilting down to meet hers? The air between them drew taut, a flash of red from the edge of her vision fluttering in an unfelt wind. She was aware of her lips, the way they’d parted, how she’d licked them wet for…something. Anything. Her lashes were drifting shut when a clatter at the bottom of the stairs and a shout for her that was clearly Ron startled them apart. Once again without thought she stood to go to her friends, only to pause, turning to Snape she looked down at her soul mate. The red thread knotted around his pinky was a relief, she didn’t want to leave him, but knowing they were connected always made her breath come easier.

The urge to lean down and kiss him came over her but she shook it away and smiled at him. One of the smiles that came from her heart. The kind that crinkled her eyes and caused her dimples to appear. Harrie bent to set the tea cup down, while calls for her to come greet her ‘best friend’ were shouted from another room. A pale finger made her halt, a mere span from Snape, as his hand tangled carefully in her hair. The curls twining themselves around him like they too wanted to stay there. A flash of an image of his hand caught in her hair, tugging her head back for a kiss made her gasp. The sound loud between them for all that it was practically nonexistent. As though he knew her thoughts he lightly tugged on a single curl before smirking at her and letting his hand untangle.

“I’ll be here…if you need safe harbor.” He said to her back as she drifted unsteadily down the steps, more reluctant than ever to join the party. And not once did she stop to wonder if anyone had in fact invited him to the event.

~~~

He looked delectable, delicious, devourable. Harrie wanted to ravish him and she was not one prone to ravishing. But there he was, wearing what looked to be a three-piece bloody suit that fit him to perfection. She didn’t know she had a formal clothing kink until that moment. She was discovering herself. She wanted to discover him.

Snape had his hand in his new ‘usual’ resting place at the small of her back, and she’d taken advantage to sidle in against his side. The lure of his body heat sinking into her skin, her own dress showed more than she was used to but it was a boon in this situation. The low cut at the back allowed his hand to rest on her bare skin. With one shift his fingers had slid beneath the fabric of her dress and Harrie’s breath had hitched in her chest. They’d looked at one another and she swore there was heat there. Want. Need.

But by Merlin was she tempted to throw caution to the wind and flirt shamelessly (if she did have that particular skill set after her shoddy love life) with the man who was embodying temptation. They’d already been at the Ministry fund raising gala for Muggle and Magical Studies (or M&Ms as Hermione had taken to calling it) for over three hours. By far the longest she’d stayed at any event, her usual limit being 2 hours. However, Snape looked like that and she was loathe to leave, not without trying at least a little bit. Harrie was certain by then that they’d been flirting, possibly, maybe. Okay, she wasn’t fully certain, but close. And the red thread of fate had drawn her to him this night only to raise the highest challenge.

He was her soul mate. And he’d only just agreed to be her friend not too long before. If she rushed into something physical with him and it was just that - only - physical then it might just destroy her and whatever chance she had with him. And she wanted that chance. Craved it in fact. Harrie licked her lips, gathering her nerve, she pulled her gaze from his and opened her mouth to say something only to be cut off by lips on her own.

Decision made for her, her brain shut down and her body took over. Moaning into the kiss she wrapped her arms about his neck and arched into him. Needy for this, eyes squeezed tightly closed against the rest of the world. His hand was blatantly sliding into the side of her dress, biting into the softness of her hip to pull her near to his body. Her breasts pressed into the smooth silk fabric of his suit in a way that sent goosebumps all over. Harrie moaned again, a small wanting noise. Mouth open for him he took advantage like any good Slytherin and licked her lips wider. Further dizzying her she was spun and apparated away. Harrie cared not one bit where they landed aside from that it was a house that had a very sturdy wall that Snape was pressing her into to devour her mouth. When they parted for air his lips took up residence on her throat. Throwing back her head she could barely hear over her own pulse as she spoke.

“Please.”

After that the only word she could think to speak was his name and even that was a struggle to get out as he pulled and moved her onto a mattress and undressed her with sure hands. His mouth was everywhere and Harrie wanted it that way. She had no clue how they’d gotten to this point. She didn’t worry about that though, just attacked his buttons with equal fervor. The laugh he made at her expense only made her growl at him in frustration before she tried her hand at wandless wordless magic and outright banished his clothes. Then she wasn’t the only one growling. It had been a very nice outfit.

Harrie was manhandled, lifted bodily further up on the pillows before her legs were tugged tight around a trim waist. Her ankles dug into his arse, urging him onwards. Evil bastard that he was he hissed the lubrication spell directly into her ear. She’d never had Latin tighten her nipples before. Her fingers tangled in slick black strands. Harrie lunged up into a biting kiss as he stretched her, the intimidating length he was planning to use on her was a brand against her thigh.

As he slid inside her, filling every inch of her with him she decided that the red thread of fate was right. It had always been right and only ever had Harrie been wrong to think otherwise. Harrie was made for him. He belonged there, between her legs, heart racing alongside hers.

Everything was a rush, a blur of pleasure and awe and emotion. Harrie clung to him for dear life, moaning into his ear, the sound of his growls and grunts burning into her brain. They were rough, brutally thrusting together, the bed frame knocked plaster loose from the walls. Something clattered to the floor but she couldn’t see much in the dark beyond pale skin, dark eyes, and inky black hair as her eyes rolled in her head. Toes curling she shivered through a silent scream and a blissful orgasm. The only sign that he knew she’d come undone was the tense of every muscle in his body around her and a loud grunt in her ear before he bit down on her shoulder. At that her scream was loosed, when she came to her mouth was running away from her. His name on an infinite loop from her tongue. She shivered with aftershocks of pleasure as he emptied inside her. Petting his sweaty and heaving sides she kissed all of him she could reach and murmured words that only later she’d regret.

“Perfect, Severus, you’re perfect. Brilliant, love, so good. Love you. I adore you. Severus Snape. Perfect man.”

When she’d wake she’d pray that his own ears had been silenced with his pounding pulse or that her words had been sex slurred enough to not be heard. But just then she fell asleep, crushed happily under the pleasure sated form of her soul mate.

~~~

When she awoke it was to sore muscles alone among mussed sheets and in a bedroom she didn’t recognize. It was a nice room, she thought fuzzily. Sleep addled she peered about at the bookshelves on three walls and the paintings of Hogwarts and the lovely natural light from a large inset reading nook window directly across from where she slept. Harrie yawned, stretching and wincing at the move. A doorway peeked from the shelves and Harrie slipped from the bed, clad only in a sheet like a toga to investigate. The wonderful discovery of a bathroom was much needed and her brain slowly came back as hot water rushed over her. She spelled her mouth clean and hair neat before scrounging up her clothes from the floor. Clad in clothing once again she narrowed her eyes about the bedroom before deciding if one door was hidden by the bookcase, surely the exit would as well. This theory was proven by the waving red thread sneaking out through a solid wall of books. It only took the second shelf before she found the mechanism to release her. She followed the line of crimson down a cramped spiral staircase, bypassed a kitchen and sitting room on what she assumed was the main floor and went down into a basement. Or perhaps, a dungeon, as the walls shifted to cold grey stone and sconces lit the walls. Down a short corridor she found him hidden and hunched over a cauldron.

Her words from the night before came back to her and Harrie wringed her hands keeping quiet. Watching him lulled her. Snape moved with confidence. Concise flicks of his fingers, pinching out ingredients and peering at exact measurements like a world renowned chef. Genius, she thought once again. The man was a premier Potion’s Master. His genius had been hidden by Hogwarts and the war, smothered under stress and students. Prince’s Potions was a blossoming business because of his brilliance. Harrie lost track of time watching him brew as she leant against the lintel in quiet contemplation.

Eventually he broke the peace with a hushed greeting, “Harrie.”

“Severus.” She answered, swallowing down the rekindling of her nerves.

“Did you sleep well? I left you breakfast in the kitchen.”

“Oh, you did?” She was touched by the thoughtfulness, “ I didn’t see. I did sleep well, though, thank you, for asking. And you? You…slept well after- you slept well too?”

He smirked at her stuttering but didn’t raise his head from his brew to look at her. Just gave a short nod. Harrie wondered if this was his way of telling her to go eat and leave him alone to his potions. If so he was going about it wrong. She took a tentative step forward into the room, “What are you brewing?”

“Amortentia antidote.”

“Amortentia has an antidote?” Harrie asked, thrown by the potion. She drifted closer. “I thought it was just something that you stopped taking and it lost its effect without another dose?”

“That is correct, but sometimes you can be dosed without knowledge and then an antidote can speed up the process to remove the effects.”

“Huh,” she peered down at the cauldron, taking a small breath, “is it like Amortentia where it smells like love?”

He glanced at her, the barest flick of dark eyes making her face heat before he returned to his brew. “That is correct, both Amortentia and it’s antidote smell most like what you love. What do you smell, Harrie?”

That was a rather personal question, she thought, but he wasn’t looking at her when he asked and it only sounded like curiosity so feeling brazen she took a bigger breath and parsed through the scents. “Broom wax warmed by the sun, owl feathers in winter, and old books and wool.”

He hummed at this, maybe not knowing that he was the old books and wool smell specifically. She only knew of one man who wore wool almost religiously. If buttons had a smell it would be that instead. Continuing on in her recklessness she asked, “What do you smell?”

“That’s a rather personal question, Harrie.” He said echoing her thoughts almost exactly as he denied her.

Feeling playful she teased, “Let me guess, you smell…the trees of the Forbidden forest at night, the sharp snap of perfectly cast spells on the air, and…the scent of flobberworms juiced just right.”

She laughed lightly at his scowl. She really hoped he didn’t actually love the smell of flobberworms, they had a terrible odor that was akin to the scent of Ron’s socks after a week in the woods without washing.

“Close but not correct.” He demurred.

“Ah, so not the spell work one then?” Harrie joked back earning her another scowl. She fell back into a comfortable silence just thankful he hadn’t jettisoned her from his home immediately upon waking. Her suspicion was that he’d most likely consider their tryst to be a terrible and onerous error - see, she could pick up big words sometimes too. But so far he’d let her stay and the pleasant banter was making her think he might be willing to do this again in the future. Cautiously hopeful, she watched him bottle the brew and clean up his station. Harrie had propped her chin on her palm, hips popped out so her back was stretched to help with the soreness. It was an ungainly pose but she wasn’t trying to impress him. He either would put up with her or not. Snape knew she was a mess, he’d seen that all before and even more than anyone else after the night before. Harrie was lost in her musings when he held out an uncorked vial for her to drink from his recent batch of potions.

“What’s this for?” She asked.

“The antidote for Amortentia.” He said bluntly. Pushing it towards her to take, which she did without thought.

“Uhm, but I’m not taking…Amortentia.” She said as the potion glass bottle warmed against her hand.

“Drink it.”

She thought for a second but it was still early, she’d had great sex and great sleep and was in a great mood - anxiety of being thrown out by him aside - so she shrugged and downed the potion. After a loud swallow she handed him back the bottle and waited for an explanation. But the silence drew on lingering.

“You may leave now.” He said, a hand at the small of her back to usher her out of the lab.

“Uh, what? Why? I thought we’d have breakfast.” Harrie looked over her shoulder but continued to take the steps up as he silently insisted. His frown was a beastly thing. “You said there was food…”

“That is true, I suppose if you can stomach it now that you’re cured and can withstand my compan-“

Harrie cut him off, stopping on an upper step to gape down at him as it all clicked into place. She really did blame the fact she’d been asleep not too long before for her taking so long to put the pieces together.

“You think I was dosed with Amortentia so I’d be with you?!” She said without thought and in a pitch that hurt her ears. Then in a squeal of outrage, “Are you bloody joking!? I’m not drugged, Severus! I just fucking fancy you, ya bloody arse! Is that really so hard to believe?”

His face said ‘yes’ and also ‘please cease with your histrionics’…okay, there may not have been a please.

“I’m not drugged!” She insisted as he manhandled her about and pushed her towards the kitchen.

“Not any longer, the antidote took care of that.”

Gasping in disbelief she spoke without worry, “Well if the antidote did anything it didn’t stop me from thinking about shagging you again on this kitchen table now did it?”

Snape’s hands tightened on her shoulders before releasing her like she was aflame. “Potte-“

“Oh, no you don’t! I am not Potter to you, you’ve been inside me, Severus. I am most definitely Harrie.”

His cheeks took on a rosy hue that made her feel vindicated for all her anger. She watched him take a fortifying breath and cross his hands behind his back before meeting her gaze.

“Harrie, last night was an error, had I known you were under the effects of a mind influencing potion I would not hav-“

“That’s just it!” She interrupted, stepping quickly into his space and barely quelling the urge to shake him by his lapels. “I wasn’t under a ‘mind influencing potion’ and I’m still not. I wanted it, I wanted you! It wasn’t an error or a mistake or a misjudgment. And I bloody well don’t regret it.”

She caved to the impulse and wrapped her hands about the collar of his shirt stopping short of shaking him. Harrie lifted on tip toes and pressed a desperate kiss to his lips. When she pulled back she was no longer shouting but all the fiercer for it, “I fancy you, you brilliant git!”

“No, you do not.” He said slowly like she was thick. His hands were on her hips though so she didn’t believe him. Instead Harrie kissed him again, using her grip on his shirt to pull him down into her. Snape’s moan licked flames through her as she opened to him. He let her direct them backwards until he was pressed into the edge of the table, cups and plates clattering with the sudden hit.

“I do, I really do.” She murmured into his mouth, tilting her head for better access to him. His hands slid up and down the length of her spine making her arch into him like a cat.

“We’re friends.” He said, licking a stripe of sensation across her neck that made her mewl.

“We can be friends, we can do more. Whatever - whatever we want.” Harrie was only half aware of her words, busy pushing Snape up onto his kitchen table, marveling at the fact that he let her and then climbing atop him. She quickly tossed off what clothes she’d put back on and watched with a growing grin as he pushed the contents of the table onto the floor before undoing his own buttons. Harrie focused her attention on freeing his cock and slipping aside her knickers. If she’d worried that he didn’t want this, didn’t want her, she got her relief in the knowledge that he was pulsing hard in her hand. Snape hissed at the feel of her fingers stroking over his erection. In payback for his Latin foreplay the night before she moaned the lubrication spell as she pulled him off. Hips bucking up from the table top she pushed him back down with a hand flat to his bared chest, fingers laced through the wisps of hair there. Harrie looked him dead in the eyes, letting him see how much she wanted this as she sank down onto his length.

She cataloged every one of his reactions, needing to memorize it in case this never happened again. Having missed out on seeing him feel her the night before in the dark of his bedroom. His mouth parted in pleasure, eyes lidded, pupils and dark iris blending, sweat stuck strands of his hair to his face and his throat bobbed on a swallow. She’d never felt more powerful than at that moment. Harrie rode him slowly, wanting this to last for all the frantic fervor of their beginning. She cajoled noises from him as she licked her lips and eked every ounce of desire from this as she could. The time for words had passed and they were just sensation, bodies moving together. Dark wool spread across dark wood, pale and tanned flesh meeting, their fingers entwined with that small spool of red thread joining them.

The drag of his cock through her again and again was all she could think on. Wet, slick sounds and panting breaths and the creak of old wood abused. Harrie came alive under his gaze. She knew she made a picture. Naked astride him, muscles from years of quidditch rippling under soft skin. She wanted him to remember this. To be marked by it. To not spend another day without being haunted by the image of her fucking him atop his kitchen table. And if she had her way she’d burn more images into his retina. Drown him in the sight of her. Make it so he knew he could never go another day without thinking about Harrie bloody Potter. Everything she could recall of sex, every lesson she’d learned, every ounce of experience was put into making him feel amazing. She tightened on him with every out-stroke and went deliciously wet upon sinking down on him. Her back arched, pushing out her small breasts and tight nipples for his viewing. Harrie threw back her hair, hoping the chaos of her curls looked sex-made. And she moaned for him, sounds that heated her ears and would embarrass her any other day but that he answered with his own lewd sounds.

He watched it all until Harrie leant forward and took his mouth with hers, the sudden shift in angle hitting a new spot that made her spasm with lust. She tugged his hands above his head, plastering their bodies together and let him lead their kiss. If it could even be called that. Kisses always sounded so sweet. Kind and gentle and thoughtful. This was a claiming, biting teeth, nipped lips, sucking tongues. Snape wanted inside her in all the ways he could. And Harrie loved it, basked in the need of it all.

When she came it was quick and surprising, the whole of their joining had been hot, hiding the way she’d burned to an inferno until her orgasm took over. Shaking, mouth forced open on a soundless sigh that he swallowed Harrie clenched around him rhythmically, trying to keep up the pace of her grinding from before but her body stuttered around the pleasure taking over. Snape groaned her name, hips thrusting up from below, lifting her body with his as he took up the tempo and fucked into her body. A few bestial thrusts later he followed her into completion. The feel of his seed filling her making her whine and bury her head into the crook of his shoulder.

Slumped, sweaty, half clothed Harrie shivered and released his hands from hers.

“Fine.” He said, or at least she thought he said, her ears were ringing a bit.

“Mn?”

“Fine, I cede to your prowess,” Snape followed up his words with a groan. Harrie clenched around him at the noise, setting off a series of reactions from the two of them until they settled.

“So…again?” She asked, too sex sated to hide the hopeful tone.

“Again.” He agreed.

~~~

They still met up for pastries…that was capped off with sex.

They still avoided socializing at parties…by now finding places to have sex.

They were still friends…who had sex.

Harrie was conflicted. On one hand, she was having superb sex with her soul mate on the regular and they were still having conversations that didn’t devolve into arguments. He was opening up to her, laughing, joking, on occasion even smiling. It was exactly what she’d wanted and never thought she could have with him.

On the other hand, any time she brought up emotions or love or fancying his arse he’d clam up or distract her. They weren’t dating, she didn’t think. They didn’t plan to go to the parties or events together, they just happened to be there at the same time. They did plan on pastries but it never moved on to meals - no dinners, no lunches, not even breakfast aside from alone the morning after. He never came to Grimmauld, not that she blamed him, he probably didn’t have great memories of the place. Though there was a certain level of taboo to the idea of them fucking in one of the rooms they’d had before that she wouldn’t mind capitalizing on. He avoided Grimmauld. Even the few times she’d hosted the Order, they’d always floo to his home to have a quickie.

On top of that, he didn’t demonstrate any affections in public. Aside from that one kiss he held back from anything beyond a hand at the small of her back.

“Selfish,” She muttered to herself, smoothing down her new robes before her own birthday party. Harrie had so much. She was rich, she was young, she was supposedly beautiful - that had been an uphill battle of beauty products, tailored clothes, and a lot of primping and prodding by professionals. She also was famous - not that she wanted to be, well loved - by very busy friends and family who wouldn’t listen to her!, and was getting delightfully railed on the regular by her fucking soul mate - who thought they were just friends and wouldn’t even poke her in public. “Selfish.”

But she wanted more all the same. To be in a committed relationship with her soul mate. She wasn’t even going to entertain the idea that he might be enjoying other people as well. She’d just endeavored to keep him very busy physically and too drained to entertain the thought of others. She wanted him to be affectionate with her at parties. To go with her to the parties in the first place instead of meeting there. To just have his hand on her back or a quick kiss to her cheek or even a brush of his bloody fingers on hers.

She wanted to be able to tell him that she was head over heels for his now rarely annoying arse.

Harrie was both not doing well at all and doing better than she had in her entire life and it was all due to Severus Snape, her soul mate. She glanced down at the thread, still as bright as the day she’d first seen it, still a bright crimson and attached to a man that she didn’t want to let go of. On a whim she kissed the threads, soft and raspy on her lips and prayed to fate or whoever that she could win him over. Keep him. Love him.

~~~

Her birthday party was at the Burrow. With another one of those massive tents. Harrie had truly been hoping to avoid the tent. She only honestly liked a small smattering of people so this huge hullabaloo was overwhelming to the extreme. But Molly Weasley had a skill of getting her way and even Harrie was susceptible to her adoptive Mum.

“Harrie!” Came cries of greeting before she was enveloped by two soft pairs of arms and wafts of floral scents. When she pulled back it was to grins from Hermione and Ginny both, her own private welcoming party.
“What are you both doing out here?” She asked, she’d apparated a ways from the Burrow since she’d wanted the walk in to settle her nerves. Harrie had mentioned the party to Snape so she’d hoped he’d be there, the waving floating thread of red drifting on the wind towards the Burrow made her think he might have just for her.

“We came for some fresh air,” Hermione smiled, and it was like they hadn’t drifted away at all.

“And for some gossip! You’ll never guess what’s happened!” Ginny gushed.

“Oh? What, tell!”

“Well…” Hermione started, blushing and biting her lips on a grin with a sly look to Ginny.

“We’re both engaged! To our soul mates!” Ginny said, teeth gleaming with triumph at Harrie’s stunned expression.

“You are? Dean proposed? I didn’t know you’d gotten back together. Oh, but that’s marvelous, Gin, I’m so happy for you! And Hermione?! Who-“

“Draco!” Ginny practically shouted the name and the last person Harrie could have predicted. She gaped between her friends before breaking out into happy stunned laughter and hugging them so tight they gasped and giggled. Rings were waved under her nose and gossip about wedding plans and in-laws and honeymoons were bandied back and forth until Harrie’s head was spinning. Someone shouted for them breaking up the side celebration and all three women started walking back, Ginny racing ahead since it was Dean who had hailed them.

“So…Draco, eh?” Harrie asked quietly with a nudge to Hermione’s side.

“Yeah, are you upset?” Hermione’s question stunned her. She was the last person to judge another for their soul mate. Though, Draco Malfoy may not have been her first choice for her friend.

“Of course not, I’m happy for you, just because you have a soul mate doesn’t mean things easily clicked into place. The fact that you both are getting married is amazing and something I for one am proud of you for.” Harrie paused her friend for a moment and asked quietly, “Does he make you happy, Hermione?”

The tears in her best friends eyes did nothing to detract from the joy on her face as she nodded. “I love him. It took a while to see that he was my soul mate, even after the thread…but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Then, it’s brilliant, Hermione, just like you. And we’ll get Ginny to plan the Hen Party, it’ll be a blast!” Harrie laughed loudly, dodging her best friends fake swipe of anger at the plot. They both settled into each other’s side to walk the rest of the way back, arms linked until Hermione parted with a quiet ‘happy birthday’ to go and rescue Malfoy from a conversation with Percy.

She watched for a moment as her friends chatted, thinking about how lucky they were that their soul mate was with them like this. It just made the ache in her own chest grow bigger. Feeling heavy with emotions she dodged conversations with quick greetings and bright smiles as she followed the thread weaving through the crowd of well-wishers. Her brow furrowed when she saw the crimson strand slide into the garage that Mr. Weasley used for his muggle inventions. Why Snape would be out here she had no clue but the sound of voices let her know he wasn’t alone. She went to open the door and warn them of her presence when she froze at the words.

“She must be really in love with that Hugh fellow, eh Ron?” said what sounded like George.

“They’ve been dating for quite a long time.” Ron chipped in.

“I thought they were just friends,” Snape said, and his tone was slightly off. She’d never heard him sound like that before. Jealous, confused, hurt?

“Ah, but they make such an attractive couple!” George added unhelpfully and at that Harrie was able to snap out of her stupor, she stomped up to the men who all gaped at her.

“We do not! I’m not with Hugh!” She said, glaring at George and Ron in turn.

“But you’ve looked so happy lately,” George rushed to add, looking like he was under fire.

“I am happy lately!” She shouted. “But not with Hugh!”

“But you look like you’ve been getting a good shag, Harrie!” Ron yelped in confusion, making everything so much worse as he was wont to do and without a single thought in her head she shouted back.

“I am getting a good shag! A great one even!” Then her face burned bright red at having shouted that at two men she considered family and right beside the shag in question.

“Oh, are you in love, Harrie?” George asked.

Harrie choked, but she’d already made a fool of herself, and with a quick glance at Snape she did the universal shrug of ‘of course I’m in love you nimwit’.

“You are?!” Now Ron was the one choking, “With who?”

“Brilliant, Harrie, congratulations are in order, Mum will be delighted, when are we to expect little Potters running around.”

And now Snape was the one choking. Harrie herself spluttered while George gave her a quick back cracking hug and rustled past her with mutterings about telling mum the good news. Ron had gone deathly pale when Harrie looked up. And it was like he’d forgotten that Snape was even there when he took her arms in a tight grip and gave her his very serious Auror look.

“Who is it, Harrie? You’re in love and I don’t even know who with…”

The sorrow in his voice at that broke down any chance she had at keeping things silent. But she couldn’t in good conscience out Snape for being with her - even if only physically without his permission. He was more wide eyed than he’d been when she’d first told him they’d won the war and he had gotten a Merlin. But Harrie did love him so she blinked at him asking silently if she could tell but for all intents and purposes he’d frozen so Harrie smiled sadly at him and turned back to Ron. Ron, who bless his heart, still could not find it in his brain to remotely consider that Harrie and Snape could be an item and so had entirely overlooked the odd interaction that had just played out.

“We’re keeping it quiet, Ron. They don’t like being in the lime light and I’m always in the paper.” She said softly. His grip on her arms loosened at that.

“But you could have told me, I wouldn’t have told anyone Harrie, I can keep a secret.”

“I know you can, Ron, in fact you and George are the first to know.” She said, and if he’d paid attention he would have caught on to the fact that Snape was in the room too but not counted towards that number.

“And he makes you happy? You really love him?” Ron asked, giving her puppy dog eyes that annoyingly worked well on his gangly frame.

“Yes. I love him. He makes me happy, Ron.”

“Okay, Harrie,” Ron breathed, pulling her into a brotherly hug before sniffling loudly in her ear. He yanked her back to give her a proud look before another quick hug and then he was stalking off out of the garage with not another glimpse at Harrie and Snape.

The silence dragged on between them with the groan of the garage door’s hinges whining in the wind the only sound.

“You love me.” He said.

“You knew that.” She said. And then she waited. Harrie didn’t expect him to return the words. She just hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t outright reject her or shut down what they’d had going on. Even if it was primarily pastries and parties and the best sex of her life. He really was a great shag. But her heart was the focus of this moment. The fact that she loved him was irrefutable. No possible Amortentia. No miscommunication. He now knew that she had meant the words she’d confessed the first time they’d lain together. She meant them now.

“Harrie.”

She huffed out a sigh and peeked up at him. Heartened by the way his eyes softened upon meeting hers. Thinking this might be her last chance she gave it her all. “I love you, Severus. I want to be with you. I want to go on dates with you and attend the terrible parties together. I want to eat every meal with you and not just pastries. I want to fall asleep with you no matter which home we’re at. I want to wake up to you every morning and watch you brew potions and listen to you be brilliant and laugh with you about how crazy everyone else is. I want all of you. I love you. You’re my soul mate, Severus.”

Her voice was small and strong and honest and maybe just the littlest bit sad. She watched his adams apple bob with a swallow. Watched the way his brows twitched in the start of a frown then smoothed out then came back together in confusion. And she watched the red thread between them gleam gold and snap taut. A flash of blinding light made her eyes wince shut and when she opened them he was right in front of her. Harrie blinked back the stars in her eyes, knowing he hadn’t seen it and needed to see him if this was to be the last time he’d look at her like this.

“Fine. I cede to you.” He murmured the words with the most serious expression like this was life or death. Which, it may have been in some ways.

“You’ll let me love you?” She asked, needing to know.

“It would be my honor to have you love me.” And with that he kissed her, the way she’d thought kisses should be. Sweet and true and kind and with every ounce of their hearts meeting. His hands threaded in her hair and held her close as she kissed him back with all her love on her lips. Harrie trembled in his hold and met his eyes with the most brilliant of smiles all for him. As they hid in their peaceful bubble away from the furor of the party and loved one another quietly. And then had a great shag that resulted in the demise of more than a few muggle devices that Harrie would never fess up to accidentally kicking or knocking aside in their activities. After she convinced him to suffer the party a bit longer and only then noticed amidst her family as she held Snape’s hand that the thread had dissolved in two golden tangles around each of their pinkies.

Later that night, after cake and gifts and laughter, and after she fell into a sex sated sleep in his bed, Snape would lift her hand to his eye and frown at the matching gold circles on their pinkies, wondering at yet another mystery to solve about the woman he loved.