Part 2

Part Two

The dark-haired man glared at him with a ferocity Harry thought impossible, given the state Snape was in anyway.

"What have you done?" Snape hissed through clenched teeth.

"Try to stay calm. Do you want to get worked up again and cause your neck to bleed? Cause the pain to return?" He held his hands in front of him and hoped Snape would take it easy. "This is going to be temporary. No St. Mungo's. No Azkaban. I'll stay on my side of the house, and you can stay on yours."

"Get out of my house. Now!"

"Until this blows over, it's our house, and you won't get me to leave."

"This is illegal. I didn't agree to this."

Harry smirked upon hearing this and tossed a parchment at the irate man. "Witnesses say otherwise." He nodded to Snape's left hand. "Go ahead. Try to take it off." Harry held up his own hand and smirked. "Magic, see. Mine won't budge either."

Before he could rip the parchment in half, Severus noticed the ring, and something flashed in his mind: blurriness, Lily's eyes, someone holding his hand. Angrily, obviously aware of what had transpired, he tried to rip the offending thing from his finger, dropping the bonding certificate to the floor as he did so. "You little bastard."

When Snape started to slide his feet over the side of his bed, Harry backed away. "Please, Snape, if you won't do this for yourself, do it for my mum."

Those words stopped him. Harry could see the indecision on his face before an expressionless mask stared out at him. He took advantage of this. "I won't be in the way, and I don't expect anything in return. I just don't want you to suffer for your sacrifices any more than you already have."

Snidely, Snape said, "How touching, Potter." Then he drew in a deep breath. "Fine. For now."

Harry nodded, relief filling his body. He couldn't believe he'd got his way. Hermione would be glad to know that Snape wouldn't murder him after all. "I'll leave you alone for a while then. I've got a few things to do, and then I'll come back and change your bandages."

"Don't rush," the man replied evenly.

"What do you want to eat tonight?"

"Amazingly," he began blandly, "I've lost my appetite."

"Fish and chips it is then. I'll be home soon."

"When I said don't rush, I meant it," Snape insisted, "and I'm not bloody hungry."

"But you might be later, right? It'll be here if you are, so no harm done, okay?" Being nice to Snape was harder than he'd thought. He wanted nothing more than to let the man know how much of an insufferable git he was being about it all, but he knew it wasn't the right time for that.

"Fine. Now get out."

"Okay."

Harry backed away and frowned before leaving. Once he was alone in the sitting room, he plopped down on the threadbare couch, hearing a slight crack. "I can't believe I'm married to Severus Snape."

His eyes widened. How crazy that sounded out loud! Snape? Married? He blew out a long breath. "What the hell was I thinking?" he muttered. His thoughts then drifted to Ginny, and his heart constricted as he thought of her sad expression and teary eyes. She'd said that she understood his motives and wouldn't mind waiting for him, as she'd been waiting all her life and another year or so wouldn't hurt, especially when they'd secretly still see each other.

The first sprig of doubt took root in his mind. Had he made the right decision? When would he be able to "divorce" Snape and not raise suspicions with the Wizengamot or the public? Was this fair to Ginny? His heart was hers, and he absolutely planned to steal as many private moments with her as was allowed.

Harry sighed and stood up. He needed to get to Diagon Alley and buy a few supplies. Grimmauld Place had been hard to clean when they'd first started going there, and from the looks of it, Snape's place wouldn't be that bad, but it still lacked a lot of comforts. Hermione and Ron had been a huge help already, so there wasn't much for him to do. He wanted to make the home nice in hopes that it would improve Snape's disposition. His smile faltered as he realized that he was likely wasting his time.

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Severus couldn't believe the audacity of Potter. The brat had literally kidnapped him and tricked him into a bonding ceremony while he'd been drugged. If he were able, he would have got up and tossed the little blighter out on his arse, but thanks to Nagini...he shuddered in remembrance...he wasn't as strong as he had been.

"It appears I've been mentally incapacitated as well," he muttered sourly, thinking of how easily he'd agreed to Potter's plan once Lily was mentioned.

He never could deny Lily anything in all of his life, and the boy was right. She would want this, wouldn't she? She would disapprove of the bonding, of course, but she would overlook that if it meant sacrificing a few months of time to ensure Azkaban wouldn't be waiting in the wings.

Then his mood turned even more bitter than before. How dare they think to send me to Azkaban? Do they not know all I've done for them? That it was I who saved their sorry arses?

A sigh escaped. "That's not exactly right, now is it?" No, it was true. Potter had found a way to dispatch the Dark Lord, but he wouldn't have done that without his help. In fact, he'd come to realize that Potter would have been killed, along with his parents, all those years ago if it hadn't been for Severus' request that Lily be kept alive. She chose death when she didn't have to, sparking the old magic to protect her boy.

Oddly, a deranged part of him appreciated the fact that Potter was so bent on helping him and was finally treating him with the respect he deserved. A wicked laugh escaped him as he thought of a brooding James Potter's ghost watching the bonding ceremony of his son and his old school enemy.

"Ah, yes, not so bad at all." And it would be even better if the boy would keep his promise and remain out of his hair. He then noticed that his room had been rearranged.

"What the fuck?" he growled, taking notice of other things as well. The walls had been cleaned, lacking the layers of dust he remembered. And where the hell were his cobwebs? He'd decided to leave them years back, feeling it gave his room character. The wardrobe, desk, and small tables now gleamed in the dim light. There was even the light scent of lemon in the air. He hoped that the brat hadn't trifled with anything personal, but he was sure that his trunk remained unopened. It was warded too well. Thankfully.

Severus leaned over slightly to look at the floor. "Polished as well." He shook his head in annoyance and was about to hiss a few curses when he saw the bonding certificate on the floor. Grimacing, he reached as far as he could and was able to snatch it. After he settled back against his pillows, he looked at it thoughtfully.

Certificate of Bonding

--Song of Solomon, Chapter 8:6

Witnesses of Union

Hermione Granger

Ronald Weasley

Arthur Weasley

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic

He felt a jolt pass through his body and felt his pulse quicken. It was official. He was the husband of Harry Potter. Curbing the instinctual desire to crumple the parchment, he carefully placed it under his pillow and tried to sleep in order to escape the niggling feeling that he should be a lot angrier than he actually was.

In his dreams, Lily came to him, smiling beatifically, green eyes sparkling mischievously. And then her face changed slightly, losing its soft roundness and taking on sharper angles. Her lovely red hair shortened and darkened, the smile fading to a wry smirk.

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Had it only been two days since he'd moved to Spinner's End with Snape? It felt like longer, though he knew that was partly due to the fact that he had barely been sleeping, which melded the hours together and made them feel much longer than they were. He hated to wake his sleeping housemate, not knowing what to expect. They hadn't been getting along as horridly as Harry had feared, but the man was still a force to be reckoned with.

The scent of sweat wafted to his nose, and he took in Snape's greasy locks, wishing he'd been able to wash the buggers when he'd talked Snape into letting him give him a bath...if one could call it a bath! All he'd been allowed to do was bring a pail of warm, soapy water in and pass a sponge along the man's body. They'd both been embarrassed by it, and Harry had honestly tried not to look at what he'd been doing. However, when his hand had travelled too far up Snape's thigh and he'd heard the sharp intake of breath, his eyes had been drawn directly to Snape's crotch, his erection showing through the thin underpants. Neither had said anything, Harry looking away quickly, Snape growling for him to 'finish the job.'

He'd been relieved when Snape had announced the next day that he felt strong enough to clean his own body. Harry knew that the erection had been purely a physical reaction and that it didn't mean anything, attraction-wise, so he wondered how long it had been since Snape had had a good shag. Had he ever had one? It was possible that the man hadn't, not if he'd been living his life under the shadow of his precious Lily. Poor Snape, he thought, wondering if he would remain as loyal to Ginny if something happened to her.

It was best not to think such dreadful things. With a sigh, Harry looked down at Snape's sleeping face and whispered, "Snape? Awake?"

"I am now," came the annoyed reply.

"Sorry, it's just that I have to change your bandages."

Snape said nothing and simply turned his head to grant access to his wounds. Harry went to work immediately and gently peeled away the soiled bandages. The horrible wounds on Snape's neck never failed to horrify Harry. He'd been bitten by Nagini in the past as well, but she had only been trying to hold him then...not kill him as she'd been hoping to do with Snape.

If Snape hadn't dosed himself with enough antivenin over time to help counter her poison, he would have been lost. It was surprising enough that he hadn't bled to death. Luckily, the man's robes had a hidden pocket that carried a few phials filled with helpful potions...Blood-Replenishing Potion being one of them. If Lucius Malfoy hadn't gone back to check on him, Snape probably would have died.

Which would have been my fault. I thought he'd died, Harry thought uneasily.

"Get on with it, Potter. Stop gawping at me like a fool."

"Sorry."

It seemed all he'd been doing for the past couple of days was apologizing. And not only to Snape... everyone, it seemed.

The bite wounds on Snape's neck had to heal from within, so it couldn't be closed magically, or with Muggle stitches, as St. Mungo's had found out through Arthur Weasley's attack years back. Taking the bottle of cleaning solution, Harry used a syringe to squirt it along the deep rips in rigid flesh and gently parted it to get some inside, causing Snape to hiss.

"All right?"

"It's cold."

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from apologizing again. Instead, he placed the syringe and solution aside and snatched up the tube of dittany-laced anti-biotical crème, ironically made by Snape months earlier, and began to squeeze out a small portion to rub on the wounds. Once done with that, he used his wand to summon the packing cloth and lubricated it so that it would slide inside the wounds easily.

This part had been the hardest for Harry, as he needed patience and a steady hand to ease it into the wounds without making Snape uncomfortable or causing him pain. "Here we go," he warned, using a small q-tip to guide the saturated cloth inside. "Brilliant. I didn't have to push as far in this time. Looks like it's healing up quicker than expected."

"And the bleeding?"

"Nothing really. Just a little reddish liquid when I flushed it. No clumps even."

"That is good then."

Without saying anything, Harry finished packing the wound and placed a fresh bandage over the area to keep it clean. He smiled at his handiwork and realized that Snape had turned to gaze at him.

"Er... want to go to the loo?"

"I can walk on my own," Snape said, sneering slightly.

"Oh, okay, so the potion isn't making that too hard on you then?"

"Of course not. It's helped. All traces of the venom that was restricting muscle movements have been removed."

"I'll get lunch ready then."

"Potter..."

"Yes?"

"I'll come down to eat."

This surprised Harry. Snape hadn't left his room except to be guided to the toilet. "Sure. You'll want to read the Prophet, too," he said with a snort. "We've made the front page."

"Joy," Snape replied sarcastically, groaning only minutely when he stood. "Ah, no vertigo. Excellent."

Harry watched and followed as Snape slowly made his way to the bathroom. Once he was inside, he sprinted downstairs to fix sandwiches, crisps, and butterbeer.

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Severus chewed his food as he read the article about his marriage to Potter and nearly spit out a chunk of beef as he saw one of Skeeter's comments.

"Potter and Snape make a dashing couple, and even though Snape's initial affections were probably based on some loyalty to his long dead lover, Lily Evans Potter, it is easy to imagine the passion he now obviously feels for Harry," he read aloud.

"I know," Harry said, snickering. "Like she's seen us together or something."

"Nasty harpy," Severus commented. "I don't appreciate this one bit. I shall have to owl her soon and give her a piece of my mind."

Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't bother. It's no big deal."

"Not a big deal, is it? I don't care for this whatsoever!" Anger bubbled up and spilled over. "You think this is a joke? Tell me, Potter. Does it make you feel good about yourself to be chained here," he gestured around the small kitchen, "in this dunghill with me for Merlin knows how fucking long? You've already got an Order of Merlin, First Class. Must you strive for another?"

The bitterness dripped from each word. He just wanted to be left alone. Hadn't he done enough to warrant that much?

"I don't care about recognition, Snape," Potter said, equally as cool. "It's just the right thing to do for you. That's all." He tossed his half-eaten sandwich down. "Stop trying to find a motive in everything and just accept that maybe someone is trying to do something nice for you because they..."

"Care?" Severus prompted snidely when Potter's words trailed away.

"I mean, that's not the word I would have used before, but yeah, I guess I do..."

"Spare me," he bit out.

"Fine, arsehole." Potter stood and briskly left the room without another word. Moments later, the front door slammed loudly.

Severus felt guilty for only a moment and then smiled. "Ah, alone at last. Maybe the brat won't return."

His eyes found the article again. The words he read made his gasp and gave him pause.

And it was apparent in Harry Potter's public statement at the Ministry two days ago about his feelings for Severus Snape. He claimed that when he'd asked Snape to be his bondmate, he knew he was making the best decision in his life, as no other person could complete his life the way the former Hogwarts Headmaster could. He then spoke words about respect, admiration, and latent feelings that emerged when he thought the man would die, but it was his eyes more than anything, readers, that convinced me of his devotion to Snape, who is actually a hero and has been working against Voldemort nearly all of his adult life.

"Well..." he mumbled, unable to think of anything else to say.

In his wildest dreams, he'd never thought he'd get married. Oh, he'd fantasized that Lily hadn't truly died and that he and she had married, as he'd always wanted. He'd dreamed of looking into her lovely eyes while sliding into her warm, waiting body and making her his own. He'd even imagined her holding a bundle wrapped in pink and declaring that they could name the girl after his mother, who'd been the only other person to ever truly care about him in his life.

He blinked away the moistness in his eyes. The closest he would ever be to marrying Lily was where he was at the moment, for her nearly eighteen-year-old son was now his spouse. Strange the way things work out, isn't it? he mused. And then he was horrified at the turn his thoughts took, for it wasn't Lily's face that his mind conjured as he thought of sliding into her heat. It was Harry's.

"Good Lord," he barked, appalled. Not once in all his years had he ever thought of another male in such a fashion. He'd never thought of many other women in such a way either. "Maybe I should make a call to Rosmerta," he said aloud, hoping a shag would clear his mind. Embittered laughter rent the silent room, for he doubted he would be up to shagging anyone in his condition. All the medicine in his system was making his body react strangely lately. Yes, he'd definitely have to wait until all was right again.

He realized that even then, he couldn't seek release with anyone. "Fuck!" If it somehow got out to the public, they would see his actions as cheating on his adoring husband.