Part 3

Part Three

Days passed, and suddenly Harry was at the end of his first week of marriage. Each day had been filled with owls from all over the country...even farther than that. Some really nasty things had been said about Snape in a few letters, but he'd not told the man, not wanting to make things worse. Surprisingly, a good portion of them weren't exactly angry that he'd married Severus Snape, just that he'd been married at all. And of course there had been Howlers from several witches saying as much. Snape had snickered about that and took glee in the fact that hundreds of single, young hopefuls had had their dreams dashed with the announcement.

What interested him the most was how open-minded the Wizarding world was with same sexes marrying. He knew that the Muggle world wasn't as accepting, especially people like his aunt and uncle. This caused him to smirk. He ought to send them a copy of his marriage announcement. It wasn't as though he'd ever visit them again, and he could feel smug knowing that Uncle Vernon's face had turned purple in anger, his veins threatening to pop out as he hissed obscenities.

"Just what do you find so funny, Potter?" Snape asked from across the room.

"Oh, talking to me now, are you?" he asked cheekily. Harry had taken to pointing out each time his housemate began conversation. He'd had enough of the snide remarks about his chattering, and Snape had claimed that he never initiated anything between them and that Harry was bothering him, which he'd promised not to from the beginning. "Thought you didn't want to disrupt your blessed silence?" he taunted.

"Several phrases come to mind, Potter," Snape replied abruptly and turned away, back to his reading.

"Oh?"

Silence.

"Oi, you can't do that," Harry huffed. "Can't just say something and then turn away. You've got to finish it." From Snape's profile, he could see an eyebrow arch just before the man spoke.

"Children should be seen, not heard."

"That's rubbish."

Snape looked at him. "I rather like the next one and feel it best suits our situation."

"I'm not sure I want to hear it, thanks," he said, deciding to take a page out of Snape's book by pretending to turn away and ignore him.

"Indeed? Very well."

A long minute passed and Harry could take no more. "I give. What is it?"

"Do not speak unless spoken to."

"Arsehole," Harry said good naturedly, noticing Snape's tight smile.

"So, in the spirit of being spoken to, Potter, what was so funny?"

"Well, I imagined my aunt's and uncle's expressions if I owled them a copy of the Prophet, the one that announced our wedding."

"My kidnapping and forced bonding you mean."

"If you must call it that," Harry said with a broad grin. "Is it really that bad?" he asked when Snape remained silent.

"You don't want to know the answer to that, Potter."

Harry simply nodded, not wanting to bother Snape any longer, seeing that he'd become irate. "These are addressed to you," he said, tossing a stack of parchments towards the man. "They came today."

"I told you yesterday and the day before and the day before that," he said through clenched teeth, "that I don't care to read them."

"Well, I'm not reading anything addressed to you, and I refuse to throw them into the dustbin. If you don't want them, you are going to do it," he snapped in annoyance.

A tapping on the window cut into Snape's reply. Another owl had found its way to them, but this time Harry sighed in resignation. A Howler was attached to its leg and was twitching wildly in anticipation.

"Might as well get it over with, boy," Snape said.

Harry flicked his wand to open the window and frowned as the owl circled and tossed the Howler in Snape's lap. Usually, they'd been addressed to him instead.

An angry screech rent the air.

Severus Snape! What have ye done to little Harry Potter? Ye Death Eater scum! How long's this been going on? Were ye preyin' on the boy through his years at Hogwarts? Poor sod's probably afraid ter ask anyone fer help. I can't believe the Ministry were stupid enough ter let this happen. Right suspicious, that is! Watch yer back, wanker!

Harry let out a deep breath when the red envelope burst into flames. He knew from Snape's face that the Howler had hit a chord, so he tried to defuse the situation. "Don't listen to that rubbish. We know better..."

"So..." he hissed. "I've finally reached a new level of lowness." His sneer deepened as sarcasm dripped from his voice. "At last, I can add pedophilia to my outstanding resume. Yes, my life's goals are now complete."

"Snape, don't be so melodramatic."

"How can I not be?" the man yelled suddenly, rising and moving forward as though struck by lightning.

"One person, Snape, and by the sound of it, he had too many pints."

"I've got hundreds of letters! They're probably all like this!" He pointed to the ashes behind him.

"Never in my life did I think you actually cared what people thought of you! I mean look at you! You never wash your hair, you rarely change clothes...underclothes anyway...and you could do with owning a toothbrush."

"Are you finished?" hissed Snape.

"In fact," Harry said, having enough, "I am." He stood and shook his head in annoyance. "You're not the only one who's got it hard here, Snape. If you'd stop to consider that and get your head out of your own arse, you'd realize that."

Harry left quickly, ignoring the barked reply. Ginny was what he needed. "Fuck him," he muttered as he opened the front door. What did he care if someone caught him with her alone? This was a bit more than he had bargained for after all.

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As quickly as he could, Severus made his way up to his room, carrying the stack of letters that Potter had given him. He was going to go through each one, as well as those he'd already received, and he would find out exactly what people thought about him. If people were as accepting as Potter made out, then why continue with their ridiculous ruse? Surely the Wizengamot wouldn't go against them now?

He began opening letters once he settled into his bed.

Snape,

A concerned woman

"Thank you, concerned bitch," he muttered and crumpled the parchment, tossing it to his right. A pink parchment caught his attention.

Oooh, Death Eaters are so hot! If you get tired of Potter, let me know.

Ayasha

His eyebrow arched as a waft of perfume flitted up to his nose. "Interesting," he said, tossing the parchment to his left. Then he opened another.

How could Harry Potter fall in love with the man who killed Albus Dumbledore? That's two great wizards you've ruined, Snape. I hope they toss you into Azkaban anyway.

"What? No return address?" he muttered darkly, tossing it down to the right with the other rude letter. His mood darkened with each letter he read, not that they were all negative, but he hated that they felt they could intrude on his personal life in such a way. What gave them the right to do so?

As he opened a light green parchment, his fingers began to burn painfully. "Shite!" Only one word was written: Enjoy! The sender had laced the page with bubotuber pus. "Perfect," he growled, hoping Potter was having a terrible time wherever he'd gone off to.

After he medicated his fingers, he thought about what Potter had said earlier. Gazing into his bathroom mirror, he tried to see himself as others saw him. It was true, wasn't it? He'd never cared much about his appearance, only his studies and, later, his duties. Why should he start caring what people thought of him now? No student had ever given him a single lecherous thought. People will think what they will anyway, yes? Maybe I should lighten up a little.

Feeling a small weight lifting from his shoulders, he slid the shower curtain back and stepped into the bathtub. A hair washing and body scrubbing was in order. Instead of using his usual potion, he opted for a squirt of Potter's shampoo and took extra care to lather his body thoroughly. What he hadn't expected when done was to feel better about himself. There was something to be said for cleaning oneself the manual way, leaving magic and quick wash ups a thing in the past.

And, he decided, it wouldn't hurt to actually use his toothbrush. Potter had been right about that. He'd always assumed that using his wand was just as healthy, but a wand didn't actually scrub like a toothbrush. "Interesting," he said when finished, moving his tongue along his teeth slowly.

He retrieved his dressing gown and a fresh pair of underpants and padded back to his bedroom. The evening's events had taken a toll on him, and he wanted nothing more than to relax in bed and read until sleep claimed him.

"Ah, to get rid of this rubbish," he said lightly, flicking his wand at the letters he'd read earlier. Deep down, he was satisfied that the pile he'd accumulated on his left was larger than the pile on the right, which held each negative owl he'd received. He floated them to the dustbin, retrieved his book from his bedside table, and slid beneath the duvet.

Severus only made it through three pages when he heard Potter thumping up the stairs. He didn't have to wonder if the boy would go directly to his room, for he suddenly stood in his doorway. The small amount of guilt he'd felt earlier bounded back to him when he took in the boy's appearance.

"All right, Potter?" he asked.

"'M fine," he said, slurring slightly. A few unsteady steps carried him forward.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked, dodging Potter's fingers as they reached out for him.

"Don't worry," Harry said snidely, green eyes blazing. "Your virtue is safe with me, Snape. I've had my fill already." His fingers found Severus' throat and, more gently than Severus thought possible in Potter's current intoxicated state, peeled away the bandage. "Look at that," Potter said in drunken amazement. "It's nearly done with now. Soon you won't have to suffer my touch."

"Good," Severus muttered, closing his eyes as Potter's warm, soft fingers carefully worked to clean and treat his wound. He could smell the whiskey on Potter's breath, as it shot out against his cheek in hot spurts. It was over in a matter of minutes, and Potter left without another word, slightly stumbling towards the doorway to find his room across the hall.

His book no longer interesting, he closed it and placed it beside him on the bed, whispering, "Nox," as he did so. Many thoughts flitted through his mind at once: Potter had sex with someone tonight. Surely it must be Ginevra. He supposed this meant his previous wishes that Potter would have a miserable night remained unsatisfied. His eyes, though a little unfocused, looked more like Lily's than ever. There was something in the way he gazed at me. Severus felt a small tingling sensation in his abdomen and dared not examine its origin.

If he looked at it too closely, he knew he might not like what he might learn. He rolled over and prayed that he could dream of Lily, as he'd done most nights of his life. But he needed her now more than ever.

Small visions flittered through his mind as he thought of making love to Lily. Would it have been everything he'd ever dreamed of? Potter! he thought bitterly. Why did it have to be Potter? Instead of seeing himself gently easing into Lily, he saw James doing it and heard James whispering words of love...the words Severus had wanted to tell her. And then his mental picture changed. Lily's red locks shortened as she became Ginny Weasley, and James morphed into Harry.

His imagination jumped into high gear as Potter took the moaning girl roughly, his arms curled around her thighs as he lifted her up slightly so that each thrust slid home as deeply as possible, jaw clenched and sweat forming at his hairline. Smoldering green eyes met black.

"Let me fuck you, Severus," the apparition said.

Jolted awake suddenly, Severus wildly gazed around his dark room, heart pounding. I am alone. Relief? "Where the hell did that come from?" he asked the darkness as if it would know the answer.

Then he figured it out for himself. Potter had gone and made love to his hush-hush girlfriend and had been able to relieve himself of the stress, worry, and disgust of their situation. Severus yearned to do the same with a lover, but he dared not to venture out, lest he be caught.

"I'm jealous," he said with a nod. Yes, that's it. Just the other day I would have loved to pay Rosmerta a call of this nature, and here's the little arsehole stealing my idea. He'd better hope nobody saw him, else he'll have me to deal with!

A smirk curved his lips as he thought of what James Potter would say if his only son said such a thing. What he wouldn't give to make the man feel the same helplessness he'd felt when he watched his enemy lure in the one he'd loved, seeing him take what he shouldn't.

AN: More up tomorrow! :)