November Rain

November Rain   Author: Shinikamy_L   ========== Part 1 ========== Harry slammed the door, the dull echo of the sound drowned in the viscous gray fog of the pre-dawn twilight. The sea rustled quietly and rhythmically, licking the gray pebbles. The fog, like smoke in a closed room, froze motionless, erasing the outlines of the sky and the sea. Cool salty air, saturated with rotting seaweed, filled his lungs. Harry pulled out a lighter and, leaning against the car, lit a flickering flame. Quickly, before the wind blew the flame away, he took a deep drag, taking his first real breath in so many years. The wet sand sank underfoot, and the fog parted like a curtain, revealing the shore. A thin strip of loose foam with pieces of garbage rolled in, eating one wave after another. Harry stopped at the edge of the water, letting the waves touch his boots. Staring blankly at the horizon, he saw only a wall of fog in front of him. He had not felt such peace for a long time. The quiet, measured rustle of the sea lulled his tired consciousness. He even forgot about the cigarette that had burned down to the filter. The ash fell into the sea and dissolved in his tears. After standing for a while, he walked along the shore. Droplets of water settled on his leather jacket. The sky above his head was darkening, promising a long November rain. With each step, a piece of the beach opened up and disappeared behind him, drowning in the darkness. He walked slowly, moving his legs with difficulty. Early morning and the promised rain had discouraged anyone from visiting the lonely beach. And Harry felt endless melancholy and emptiness for kilometers forward and back. At first he thought it was a black stone, thrown up by a storm onto a perfectly sandy beach. Ugly and alien. Eye-catching. But the stone moved and raised its head. Harry had already forgotten this face. Time had cut deep into the wrinkles and sharp features, running a chisel across the cheekbones. He came closer, staring into the eyes. Snape was sitting on the sand, his head awkwardly raised. Still pale, always dressed in black, and eyes that made you want to turn away. Hide. A condemning and contemptuous look, as if you had done something nasty. Potter came so close that their boots touched, nose to nose. Snape did not move. Harry noticed how Snape's body was shaking violently. How long had he been here? It was as if he had been abandoned. And he was left waiting for no one knew who or what, sitting on the shore and peering into the void. Behind him the sea roared, indifferent to all living things. Fog covered the empty beach, the black road, the fading hills, the abandoned graves. And the empty life. The sky growled dully beyond the horizon. The thunder, like the rumble of a hungry stomach, reflected from the clouds and was lost among the bare trees. "Have we met?" Snape asked, his pale lips barely moving. Harry was surprised to hear that voice. A hoarse, broken voice, an alien voice from a past life. The voice of a man who had been silent for many years. “I don’t think so,” Harry answered quietly. Snape looked closely at his face. He tried to remember something. A sharp and strong gust of wind hit Potter in the back and threw salty drops into Snape's face. But he managed to close his eyes and turn away. Grains of sand got tangled in his black eyelashes. When he opened his eyes, he no longer turned towards Harry. The sky grew even darker, and the first drops fell timidly on his skin. Another clap of thunder rolled from one side of the sky to the other. A cold rain began to fall. Snape shrugged, leaning his head on his folded hands. His pale hands were openly shaking, like those of a seasoned drunk. The wind threw another blow at his back, pushing him away from the beach. But Harry did not want to leave. Deprived of strength, he would stay here forever. Until time turned them both to stone. But the wind was persistently beating, and the rain had already managed to soak his jeans through and through. Without asking or saying anything, Harry took the limp hand and pulled it along. Snape stirred and tried to resist, but somehow weakly and stupidly. Potter persistently pulled him through the rain. They ran to the car completely wet. Harry sat down, almost breaking his wand lying on the seat. Throwing it into the glove compartment, he started the car and turned on the heater. “Where do you live?” he asked. But Snape turned away and looked out the window. The rain poured down on the windshield, washed away the road and left them alone. Now, in the car, with heavy drops hitting the roof, Harry realized that he had absolutely no idea: why did he do this? Why did he pick up a man whom almost twenty years ago he decided not to remember anymore? What to do with him now? " We can go to the hotel. " Snape looked at the road, then at his shaking hands. As if they weren't his. As if he wasn't the one frozen to death. He didn't look at Harry. " Better come to me. " He gave the address and Potter pressed the pedal, turning the steering wheel. ========== Part 2 ========== As Harry climbed up to the second floor, he tried not to think about anything. It was going badly. Snape let him into a dark flat with a narrow, clumsy corridor, where they tried to avoid touching each other. Harry felt stupid. Why was he hesitating now? What was he afraid of? Snape was ignoring him and seemed to be regretting inviting him. Or had he? Harry felt he had to come in. He couldn't just leave. He couldn't anymore... Snape threw the iron kettle onto the stove with a loud bang. And turned to the window, behind the glass the rain was falling long and sadly. Harry was left hesitating in the doorway, not knowing whether to sit down, say something, or turn around and leave. The kettle began to rustle like a plastic bag, and Harry decided to stay. He hung his jacket on the back and sat down on the only chair. A hundred questions were spinning on his tongue, but he couldn't open his lips. " Take off your wet clothes, otherwise you'll catch a cold. " But Snape barely moved his shoulder, as if he had been distracted from something important. He was still standing there in his wet, sand-stained coat. A small muddy puddle had already spread under his feet. His long black hair was casually pulled back with a thin elastic band, but a few strands had come loose and stuck out on his head. Harry wanted to laugh at this, but he couldn’t. Snape hugged himself, squeezing his forearms furiously with whitened fingers. He stood in the tiny kitchen like a black shadow, like Death awaiting the end of someone’s life. His head bowed on his chest, his eyes unseeing, staring ahead. A stranger even to his own flat. He seemed a stranger to Harry. They had not seen each other for about twenty years. But the gap between that day after the final battle and today was too small. One morning on the beach and one glance were enough to cross out the time during which he had managed to forget Snape’s name. And even his own. The screech of the kettle made Harry jump and rush to the stove. Snape did not move. Did not turn his head. Did not flinch. Potter put the kettle away, turned off the stove, and froze. They stood so close to each other that Harry could smell the sea on Severus's hair. And let it be this dead smell that was to blame. Or the cold November rain. Or fatigue and deep loneliness. Or, perhaps, indifference. But Harry buried his nose in his shoulder, trying not to think about what would happen next, when Snape pushed him away in disgust. But Snape stood there like a stone statue. And Harry decided that it was possible. What was he thinking about, sitting on the beach? What was he thinking about, telling his address? What was he thinking about, standing in the kitchen? What was he thinking about, opening his cold lips? Harry could barely breathe because his lungs were compressed into pieces of meat. He couldn't even look at Snape, fear clouded his eyes. His hands were shaking, as if he was cold. But he had already warmed up... It wasn't cold now, because his blood was boiling from the heat. But his fingers wouldn't obey and they broke the buttons. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." My own body seemed artificial and barely listened to the orders of my mind. Not understanding what was wanted of it, it would freeze paralyzed, then suddenly, as if in a spasm, shake. Wet sticky clothes flew onto the floor, table, chair, stove. My breathing broke into pitiful wheezing of a convulsively squeezed throat. "I forgot why I live." The table slid to the side with a long creaking sound. Someone else's hands squeezed the skin on his thighs hard, ripping bloody furrows with icy fingers. Stifling a groan of pain, more like a groan of pleasure, Harry buried his nose in a bony shoulder. The collarbone under his lips just begged to be bitten off. The damn table creaked as if it was being cut. As if it was being torn apart. It was being broken so hard that tears blurred my eyes. It… "Don't look." Harry bit his lips, his own, someone else's. He couldn't tell. He felt like a stranger to himself. Could he do that? To him? To this man? And was it Snape? Could it be he... Who was he? Fear confused his thoughts. Harry was afraid of falling and breaking, so he held on to the sharp shoulders with all his might. Just don't let go. If they were going to fall into that abyss, then together. Harry closed his eyes in cowardice as someone else's hand grasped his cock. "No. No. No..." His teeth clicked together, and something inside him tensed up, beating like a trapped bird, its sharp claws scratching his heart. The heat and pain became unbearable. And to save himself, he stretched his whole body forward. Sliding his tear-stained cheek along someone else's stubble, he quietly, hiding his obvious shame, exhaled a drawn-out groan into Snape's ear. The fingers on her hips dug into her bones like iron rods. Snape strained his muscles and pressed down on her, pressing her into the hard tabletop. He froze. And the rain outside the window seemed deafeningly loud. A strange strand of black hair touched the salty red lips. ========== Part 3 ========== Harry stopped the car, turned off the engine and closed his eyes. Everything that could hurt hurt. Even the parts of his body that didn't seem capable of hurting. This clouding of bad weather, chronic insomnia, prolonged depression… And it was better not to think about it now. The rain had slowed to a nasty drizzle. The windshield was quickly covered with spitting water. He reached up to reveal his watch in the sleeve of his jacket. Eleven twenty. Time to get back before it aroused suspicion. " Where have you been? " Harry had barely crossed the threshold of the house when Ginny began to ask him. " We agreed to walk along the beach. Harry counted three seconds to himself, exhaled slowly and imperceptibly, and answered: " The weather wasn’t conducive to a walk, and I didn’t wake you up early. " “Where have you been?” she asked, her eyes boring into his face. " I went to Dobby's grave, and then took a short ride into town. " This completely false answer calmed her down. The wrinkles on her forehead slowly smoothed out, and the demanding look changed to a sympathetic one. “Okay,” she said conciliatorily, adjusting her hair. “But I still want to go for a walk, and I can sit at home in London just as well.” " Where shall we go? " “To the restaurant,” she said solemnly, smiling. While Ginny was stuck in the bathroom, Fleur made him a large mug of cinnamon coffee. " When will Bill be back? " “At seven,” she answered laconically, standing by the stove. The wide frills on her apron stuck out on her back like wings, making her look like an elven princess. Still just as slender and fragile, with long white hair and blue eyes – time had passed her by. She hadn’t changed a single feature of her face, she remained the same as he remembered her that day when they fled from the Malfoys. Harry liked their cottage. A quiet, cozy, peaceful island among the sea and sand. The wind drove the waves across the red heather, disturbing the bell-shells, which knocked against each other like quiet hammers. The salty sea breeze blew through the window, mingling with the aroma of baking… "I'm ready," Ginny's loud, sonorous voice cut through his head like a saw. Harry tore himself away from contemplating the landscape outside the window and looked sadly at his unfinished coffee. She put on a dress he had never seen her wear before. She put on lipstick. She curled her hair into playful curls. And she sprayed her neck with a cloying perfume, the smell of which haunted him in his nightmares. They apparated to the city center, to the square near the famous cathedral. And quickly, before the rain had time to soak them, they ran into the nearest restaurant. Harry looked at the menu and realized that he didn't want anything. Fish, meat, scallops, lobsters and duck liver caused him only a dull headache, not an appetite. He wanted to order "just water" in the best traditions. " I'm tired of London, of its bustle. In Truro you can feel old England, leisurely, lazy... " She talked and talked and talked, and Harry didn't listen to her at all. Her voice merged into white noise, like a broken television. He tried to remember Snape's face, the moment when he... His eyes. Was there contempt or pleasure in them? But Harry tried not to look, he himself turned away and hid his gaze under his eyelids. Even now, sitting on a soft chair, he felt the pain with every cell of his body. The marks from someone else's fingers on his thighs would not heal for a long time. When Snape finished, he locked himself in the bathroom, leaving Harry half-lying on the table. He stood up on cotton legs and, groping for his trousers, pulled them on. His cheeks were numb from shame, and his hands were shaking from fear and the pleasure he had just experienced. Until that day, he had never slept with a man. "Maybe you should make an effort?" Ginny cocked her head to the side, looking at him. "Have you forgotten why we're here?" “I remember,” Harry took a sip of wine from his glass. “I’m sorry. I’m listening to you carefully.” " This evening, Fleur, Bill and I are going to the opera, I hope you won't behave like you did now. Show some concern. Or am I boring you? " "You look wonderful," Harry smiled. "Shall we dance?" "You don't like dancing, do you?" she asked suspiciously. " It would be a shame to leave such a beautiful hall. " Harry stood up and extended his hand invitingly. Ginny took it hesitantly and, adjusting her dress, rose gracefully. They went out into the center of the room, where several couples were lazily jostling in one place. He twirled her beautifully. She laughed, throwing her head back. She had become a woman, beautiful and sensual. She had given birth to three children for him, but this had made her figure feminine and luscious. Smooth curves, soft elastic skin in which her hands sank. She took care of herself. Their bathroom was drowning in her vials and bottles. When he took a shower, he was afraid of waving his hand unsuccessfully and knocking something over. If one fell, they all would go flying. They lived together too much and too long... How is Snape? Entering his home, he felt total loneliness from the threshold. Had Snape really never met anyone, never started a family? Hadn't it become easier for him to do that? Easier to start a new life? " Harry, what's wrong with you? It's like you're not with me today. “Just a weird day,” he replied quietly, squeezing her soft palm. They went out for a walk around the city. The rain stopped after lunch," but heavy clouds hung over the city. The cold air from the sea penetrated to the bones. They went out to the embankment, where boats were lazily rocking on the waves like seagulls. Several experienced fishermen stood on the pier, guarding their fishing rods, smoking twisted pipes. Their bright yellow jackets, like dandelions on black turf, caught the eye from afar. “It’s a beautiful city,” she said. “It’s so rare for us to go out together…” “ I can't remember our life, Ginny. What was in it? “ She was silent. She stood nearby while the wind ruffled her hair. “Mr. Harry Potter? “ Harry turned to see a man approaching them with a boy of about ten years old. "Sorry, I wasn't sure it was you," he smiled sheepishly, pulling the child closer. "Look, Peter, this is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, I told you about him. He's the one who saved us from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." “Wow,” the boy said, taking a lollipop out of his mouth. “ Thanks to him, we can live in peace. Can I shake your hand? “ “Of course,” Harry nodded. "I know you've become the head of Auror, congratulations! Now we can sleep peacefully," he joked and laughed himself. "I won't disturb you. Mrs. Potter," he nodded. Harry watched them for a long time. "I'm cold," said Ginny. "And I want to go home." He hugged her and felt her body warmed by the spells. Once they were in the living room, Ginny shook off his hand. She threw her green coat on a chair and stood there for a long time, her back turned. He waited, distracting himself with the noise of the radio that Fleur was listening to. She looked out at them, but, having assessed the situation, tactfully closed the door and turned up the volume. “We came here because our relationship is going down the drain,” Ginny began quietly. “I’m trying, but you!” She turned sharply and glared at him. “You’re not doing anything. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. Here, by the pixies’ horns, I wanted us to remember who we used to be. I don’t recognize you these days. You don’t want anything. You don’t enjoy anything. Not even the promotion you should have gotten a long time ago if you’d asked Kingsley. You want justice from everyone, sometimes at the expense of yourself. Our family. I don’t like it. I gave up my career to raise our children! I waited at home for you, like an exemplary wife, while you were away raiding. I did everything for you! So be kind enough to try for me too!” Harry listened to her and looked at her flushed face. Another conversation. How many of them had there been in the last few months? He no longer tried to respond. Before, when she made scenes, he nodded, asked for forgiveness, swore that he would change. He did not believe a single word he said. The emptiness in his soul grew and no amount of screaming or scandal could touch it. At night, he stared at the ceiling until the pre-dawn twilight painted it gray-blue. He listened to Ginny's breathing next to him while he lay on his back like a corpse. He drank coffee that made him sick. He looked out the window from his office at the Ministry while chants smoked on the table. How long had he felt this weariness with life? How long had he not wanted or expected anything? He no longer found himself surprised by brains smeared by Bombarda, corpses blue from poisoning, jars with gouged out eyes. Why, stepping over another corpse, did he think about what to buy in the store? He was respected by right of his deeds and whispered about behind his back. “ I want a divorce. “ Ginny stopped speaking, abruptly, as if she had been cast into Silence. Harry felt calm and indifferent to what was happening. He read the emotions on her face: misunderstanding, denial, disbelief and… "And before you start screaming," he continued. "I'm going to leave now, you can calm down and think. When I come back, we'll talk like adults." She stood frozen in shock, watching him take his keys and walk out of the house. It was only in the car, gripping the steering wheel, that Harry realized what he had said. It's high time. ========== Part 4 ========== He drove the car at two hundred, ignoring the wet slippery asphalt and his sense of self-preservation. He swerved around other cars, scaring them with splashes of puddles. He felt better in the car. A closed box that hid him from the outside world. He felt angry and afraid. Anger at himself, at Ginny, at the fact that everything had ended this way. Fear for the future, which seemed murkier than ever. He needs to see him. Harry pulled up abruptly, the brakes screeching, outside the supermarket. He stood for a long time in the sausage section, wondering which one to buy. There were already two bottles of red wine and a chocolate cake in the trolley. Throwing the Cornish salami in there, he trudged to the cheese section. Surely cheese would go with wine? In the dairy section, he grabbed the first cheese he came across and threw it on the cake. Like a schoolboy, he was hesitant to drive up to Snape's house. He drove around the block in circles. But when the clock showed seven, he turned off the engine. Bill should be back any minute... Harry felt sick. Ginny would definitely throw a tantrum and break more than one plate. He knew that this trip would end in nothing for them. He didn't have the strength to smile at her. He stood by the door for a long time, listening to the silence of the apartment. Was Snape even home? He knocked, not expecting anything. But he himself had sworn then... The door swung open, almost knocking his nose off. Snape appeared in the semi-darkness of the apartment, and the dim light in the entryway was barely enough to illuminate his face. Harry stared blankly, realizing that he hadn't prepared a speech. He had thought about going in, pouring wine in silence, and then seeing how it went. But now, looking at Snape's impenetrable face, the idea seemed downright stupid. Harry remembered what it was like to feel like a complete idiot under such a "sweet" gaze. “I’m here...” he picked up the bag of groceries, as if it could tell everything for him. "Go away. It was a mistake," Snape spat out the words like bullets. Harry was surprised they didn't hit him in the head. " You know yourself that no. " Snape's eyebrow twitched. "Didn't you feel any peace? Probably for the first time in years," Harry continued. "Anything else?" Snape asked, folding his arms across his chest. “ Can I come in?“ “ No.“ Yes, someone's character was still as vile as ever. Snape was looking at his face as if he could use Legilimency without using a wand. "Then why this morning…" Harry hesitated, unsure of the words. Could it really have happened today? He had already lost himself several times today. Too much. "It's just sex, and you seemed to like it, since you decided to come back. But I don't do charity work," he took hold of the door, intending to slam it with pathos. “ Yes, the sex was so great that you decided not to drown yourself anymore? “ Snape froze for a second, and then slammed the door with such fury that the glass in the entrance hall cracked. The echo rolled from the foundation to the roof, scaring fat lazy seagulls. Loudly straining, they flashed in the window. Harry took a slow breath, stood there for a moment, calming down. Once locked in the car, he opened the first bottle of wine. Finally, his wand, as usual, thrown into the glove compartment, came in handy. The wine didn't go well with the cheese, but it went great with the salami. "Bastard," Harry repeated, angry and somehow admiring, after each sip from the bottle. "Charity, motherfucker!" He was seething with righteous anger. How could they refuse him? Or was Snape like that with everyone, for one night, and then "goodbye"? Oh, how wrong he was... Harry never backed down, especially in front of the stubborn Potions professor. Let's see who is more stubborn. After downing the second bottle and snacking on cake, he walked unsteadily up to Snape again. This time, without ceremony, he pounded his fists on the door: “Open up! And don't act innocent!“ he shouted. “It doesn't suit you, it spoils your evil image. Are you dead or something? Open up! “ The door on the right opened slightly, and a frightened guy looked out onto the landing. “Oh, wow!“ Harry said drunkenly. “Do you know where this... “ Snape suddenly threw the door open and pulled him into the flat. Harry landed on his knees in the hallway. "Don't you have anything else to do with your energy?" he grumbled. "You clearly know no bounds," Snape growled. "Your mongrels…" "It's music to my ears," Harry smiled, looking around. Something black moved in the corner. And if he had his wand, he would have cast more than one spell. But he stretched out his hand, and his palm touched soft wool. "Is that a cat?" Harry asked, shocked, and picked up the animal. The fat, fluffy cat narrowed his eyes in displeasure. "You have a cat… I thought all living things were alien to you." Snape was lost in the darkness. It seemed he wasn't even breathing, he merged with the house and watched. Harry patted the cat and let it go, went into the hall, where he hadn't even looked last time. A half-empty bottle and an unfinished glass stood forlornly on the floor near the bed. He didn't notice any other furniture here. "We could have had a drink together, why did you send me away?" he said, somewhat offended, falling onto the bed. "That's good, otherwise you can't stretch out in the car." “Why are you here?” Snape followed silently and froze near the wall. “ I'm getting a divorce from my wife. “ “What does this have to do with me?“ "I don't know where to go," Harry said quietly, turning over onto his back. "And like you said, the sex was good. And yet, do you often bring random strangers to your place?" He raised himself on his elbows to look at Snape. But it was no use. The twilight had deepened, and the first drops of rain began to trickle down the glass. Thunder rumbled. And a sudden, broken bolt of lightning lit up the sky. The room was momentarily illuminated, revealing Snape's frozen, pale face. His lips were pressed painfully together, his fists clenched convulsively in his armpits, and the trembling eyelashes on his clenched eyelids. His long, thin shadow, like a pillar, ran in fear from one corner of the room to the other. At that moment, Harry forgot that he could breathe. He rose as if in a fog to the sound of monotonous drops. He threw off his jacket and, coming close to Snape, froze, enjoying the trembling of the other's body. He smelled of old books and peach liqueur. Weightlessly touching clenched fists, Harry slid higher along the shoulders until he found the cramped face. “My turn,” he whispered, covering her cold lips with his own. This time they got rid of their clothes before they fell onto the bed. He hadn't felt such animal passion for a long time. Biting his lips, neck, shoulders and chest, Harry growled, feeling hungry. Snape shuddered from every touch. Hissed through his teeth. For a second, Harry froze in front of his cock, only opening his mouth wide. Cursing himself and his life. Had he fallen so low to suck Snape off, or had he finally not lied to himself, but done what he wanted? Snape grabbed his hair, forcing his head into his groin. Harry gritted his teeth, choked until he felt sick, but Snape didn't let go. He jerked his hand violently and jerkily, forcing his head to move back and forth. Swallowing, Harry tried not to think about his past life. It was gone. The rain hit the roofs, buildings and the city. Lightning flashed in quick flashes, stretching across the sky like glowing wires. They illuminated two bodies that were tearing each other apart. For the first time, he woke up in a strange bed, pressed tightly against a man's body. It seemed he had slept all night, not just a few hours as usual. The light outside the window remained dim, but Harry knew all the shades of the pre-dawn twilight. "I'm ashamed," he said, stretching his entire body and dispersing the blood through his frozen body. "For not being ashamed. I guess that's how you become lovers, first once, then a second time, and then a third. It's a matter of habit. He stood up and, picking up his discarded trousers from the floor, pulled them on. Snape was half-lying on the pillow, covering his groin with a white sheet. Like a sitting doll, he did not move, only lowered his head so that strands of hair hid his eyes. Harry patted the black cat. " What is his name?" "He has no name," Snape croaked. "Neither do I." Harry looked around the room, shimmering in the dim morning light. Books and books were piled against the walls. One chair was buried under a pile of clothes. A green bedspread lay next to the narrow bed. It was a wonder they had managed to do acrobatic somersaults on it that night without breaking their necks or falling to the floor. " You know me, don't you? You know my name? " Harry turned around, calmly buttoning his shirt. Snape looked small and touchingly defenseless. Harry's shoulders ached from the bites, and his back was full of scratches from short nails. He tried to understand this man on the bed. Lost and infinitely lonely, that suicide had become an obsession. And reaching for warmth as the only way to live. "I know. " Snape raised his head, but did not ask for answers with a word, an eyebrow, or an eye. This man remained himself, even though Harry had erased all his memories. ========== Part 5 ========== After leaving Snape, Harry immediately hid in an inconspicuous cafe. The streets were drowning in puddles, and the cold autumn wind was scratching the windows. People were hiding under umbrellas and quickly running from one building to another. He warmed his hands on the hot sides of a plastic cup. He would have stayed a little longer at Snape's, made him pancakes with honey... But he needed to finish one thing. This night, full of outbursts of uncontrollable passion, completely knocked Harry off track. He didn't think that he could do this with Snape. Apparently, he was completely fed up with life, since he found himself in such a situation. Everything always comes back, especially when you renounce it. He apparated to the cottage, leaving the car in the city. He needed to do it quickly, and on the way by car he would imagine too much. But as soon as he crossed the threshold, Mrs. Weasley ran out of the hall. " Harry, " she threw herself at him with her arms. " My dear, how long has it been since I saw you? How are you? Congratulations on your promotion? How handsome you have become in the fresh air! " Well, Ginny called in the big guns. "Good morning. Good. Thank you," he replied, looking over Molly's shoulder at Ginny. She followed him out, clutching a mug of mint tea, her tear-stained eyes and tired expression betraying the fact that she had had a hard night. "Have you had breakfast?" Mrs. Weasley clucked. "I've been busy in the kitchen, with Fleur's permission, of course, and I've made a lovely breakfast." "Thank you very much, but I ate at the cafe. " Harry walked around her and stood opposite Ginny: " Can we talk now? " “You want to do this right now?” She looked at him defiantly. "You can, when you finish your tea, but it won’t change much. " "As always, decisive," she replied, lifting her nose. "I don't know where you hit your head or overheated, but I don't want to discuss it at all. I don't understand why you just presented me with a fait accompli. " We have nothing to discuss. I have been thinking about this "fact" for a long time, I just didn't know how to say it. " “I’ve always loved you,” she said passionately, slamming her mug down on the table with flowers. “I supported you and waited for you to come back to me! I didn’t blame you for leaving me after Dumbledore’s funeral. I understood everything and said I’d wait. And you… You! I didn’t know how to tell you this? This is not the place or time for it. " Sometimes I think you never loved me. How old were you when you heard about me, nine, and when you saw me, ten? You made it all up. You were like a child, wanting a new toy. What could you possibly fall in love with? Did you know anything about me? You think you were wise and that I should be forever grateful to you. You still don’t know anything about me… Now is the time and place, Ginny." "I see. It's all a joke to you. What could a girl understand about love? I'm no match for you, the all-knowing one, " she narrowed her eyes. " The place and time, you say... You don't know anything about me either. I cheated on you. " Her words brought silence to the house. Even Mrs. Weasley blinked in confusion, then covered her mouth with her hand. “I know,” Harry replied. “I know with whom, when, and how.” “Where from?” she asked, turning pale. "I'm an Auror, Ginny. It's my job. But honestly, it was all hearsay. All I had to do was follow you from the restaurant, where you were holding hands, to his apartment, where you were doing more than just holding hands." " How long have you known?" " Half a year. Agree, it's quite a long time for me to cool off towards you completely. " " That's exactly it," she said sharply. - You lost interest in me a long time ago. Half a year? Nonsense! I haven't felt anything from you for several years! Who am I to you? The mother of your children? The maid who silently prepares dinner? The cleaning lady who washes your shirts? Yes, you give me flowers, but it's like you're doing me a favor. Does your secretary remind you of that? Or does she buy these bouquets herself? I'm tired of sacrificing myself for you. I wanted to feel like a woman, desired and loved. And you forgot that I can do more than just fry potatoes for you. "And he gave you this? " " Yes, he gave it. He loves me and carries me in his arms! " "It's convenient that Dean Thomas remembered how he had a crush on you since school." "Don't you dare remind me of this! " “Ginny, my dear,” Molly said quietly. " " You don't know anything about him! Where were you when I needed your support so much? You were never there. Oh yes, of course, you were ridding this world of criminals so that everyone could sleep peacefully! Everything just for you! Do you think the world revolves around you? No!" "Well, it was easier than I thought," Harry sighed. "It's good that you agreed to the divorce." “I don’t agree,” she shook her head. “I won’t give it to you.” "Ginny!" Molly cried. " I don't want our family to fall apart. Think about the children, what will they say about them? " "You want to bring children into this?" Harry smiled. "They've already graduated from Hogwarts, in case you forgot. They're not five years old for me to forgive betrayal for the sake of preserving the family." " Don't act like a cuckold. You don't give a damn about me. " "Yes, I don't love you," Harry sighed, realizing that he was tired of this conversation. "I cheated on you too." “With that blonde?” Ginny narrowed her eyes predatorily. " No, don't guess, you won't guess anyway, " he shook his head, smiling. vI understand that you don't want to lose your status, your influence, my money. Everything you have belongs to me. If you leave, you'll lose everything. You don't want that, do you? Do you want to sit on both chairs? " " I'll tell you that you'll regret it very much if you divorce me. I can tell the press something that will ruin your career. I won't give you a divorce. Keep pretending that you know everything, but keep quiet. This is compensation for all my wasted years, which you don't give a damn about. I don't love you either. And I haven't for a long time. You disgust me. " “Then why did we come here?” Harry asked quietly, “since you’ve already decided everything for yourself?” “I really wanted to give us another chance,” she answered just as quietly. “But you ruined it all yourself.” She turned and walked out of the room. "Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley came up and put her hand on his shoulder, "don't do that. I'll talk to her. I know you'll do anything for her and the children. She'll calm down, but you need to calm down too and think it over again." "Mrs. Weasley, I am calm. " Harry left the house and walked down to the beach. The wet sand sprang under his feet, and a light breeze blew freshly across his skin. Even as it blew under his shirt, he caressed her body, biting at the fresh hickeys and scratches. Only this memory, left by Snape, helped him not to break down, listening to such cruel words. She was wrong. He cared. He finally heard the truth from her. And it was very painful, even though he had prepared for it. “She’ll calm down,” Bill came up. “Give her some time, and when she calms down, file for divorce.” " And until then, are you suggesting that I smile and kiss her on the cheek when we meet? " "You can live separately for a while. Ginny is very hot-tempered, she didn't let me sleep all night, I had to put on a silencing drug. " " She stays with me only for the money. " “She can be understood too,” Bill said conciliatorily. “And I understand,” Harry nodded, looking out to sea. A strip of fog stretched across the horizon, merging with the gloomy clouds. “She accused me of being too fair… But I did terrible things that looked more like revenge. The most disgusting thing for me is lying and being hypocritical. And what do you think I should do to avoid betraying myself?” Harry glanced back at Bill. The once cocky young man with long hair and a fang earring was now a handsome man with short red hair and a discreet gold earring. Old scars gave his face a pirate-like look. A seasoned conqueror of the seas, with storms raging in his eyes. He radiated a fierce strength. And how perfectly Fleur suited him - the eternally young mermaid. " Then what will bring you peace? " Harry closed his eyes. He thought the divorce would bring him peace. Even if it was a mess, maybe one morning he would want to lie in bed and not curse the day. But now he didn't know what to do, and he didn't want to wait for Ginny to cool down. He was tired, too. " Have you ever slept with a man? " "So that's it," Bill drawled, looking at him with curiosity. "So you weren't lying about cheating?" "Not really, it happened just yesterday. I didn't think about it myself... " "You never cease to amaze me, Harry. What is life if not an opportunity to get to know yourself? " "I didn’t know you were a philosopher. " "Sometimes," Bill smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "It will be okay. This too will pass." He went into the house, and Harry was left alone. The wind had picked up, and the salty spray of the waves reached his face. He walked slowly along the shore, looking at his feet. The weight of the decision was pressing on his shoulders. At some point, he desperately wanted to see Snape on the shore, like then. The black stone, unaffected by time, memories and fear. He remembered James, Albus and Lily and could be proud of himself. He had given them everything he could give, as a man deprived of love in childhood. They had grown up strong and determined. Happy. And most importantly, they had grown up in peacetime, without war and dangerous monsters in the corridors and basements of Hogwarts. They had grown up and gone their separate ways. He missed them, but he felt that he could no longer give anything. Like him once, they had chosen their own path. Seagulls flew across the sky. Their sharp cries merged with the measured and unhurried noise of the sea. Harry raised his head and peered into the emptiness of the gray clouds for a long time. "I will kiss away your pain." After all, that's what he told him. When he returned to the cottage, Fleur met him. She said that Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had gone home. " Molly asked you for forgiveness. She wanted to say goodbye to you properly, but Ginny was adamant. " "Where's Bill?" Harry asked, opening his trunk, which was left forlornly in his assigned room. He had only slept there for a day and hadn't even had time to unpack it. Ginny had packed hers and taken them away. "He was urgently called. " Harry took out a donkey-skin pouch and, loosening the drawstring, shook out the most expensive things onto the bed. "I've always been sentimental," he said quietly, picking up that same Snitch. "I open at the end." A shard of mirror, old broken glasses, a photo of Ron, Hermione and him from the Yule Ball - how beautiful they were. When you look back, so much seems so trivial. Childhood quarrels, omissions and misunderstandings. They supported each other, but most of all they supported him. Without them, he would never have been able to do what he had to. For them... He missed those days very much. But the most precious thing is still not the shards of the past, but a shard of the soul. Severus Snape's wand. Black, medium elastic. Even after so many years, it resisted someone else's hand. Harry felt its magic and will. “Fleur…” he exhaled quietly. “I’ll tell him,” she answered calmly. “Don’t worry, Harry, he’ll understand.” He looked into her blue eyes and felt immense gratitude that she understood everything and he wouldn't have to say it out loud. He was afraid. Afraid of his decision. "Thank you." ========== Part 6 ========== Harry knocked the hand away, but no one opened the door. "He's gone," a young guy in huge glasses looked out from the next door. It seemed that Harry had spoken to him yesterday. "Where? " “I don’t know,” the guy answered, drawing his head into his shoulders. "Does he work somewhere? " "As far as I know, no. He sometimes goes to eat at a cafe with a green awning or walks in the park. " “Do you know him well?” Harry narrowed his eyes. " Not really, I sometimes borrow books from him to read and that's it. He's not a talkative person. " "Did he act suspicious or strange? Did he say when he was leaving? Did he leave any keys? " "N-no. " Just when Harry had sorted out one part of his life, another decided to run away. He looked in a cafe with a green awning, ran up and down the park, ran around the square, went into all the cafes and shops near his house, apparated to the beach where they met, and walked three kilometers in both directions, trying to find Snape. Nothing. He was frozen to the bone. As luck would have it, a terrible rainstorm poured down, but he still ran around the city in a panic. He pestered passers-by, sellers and waiters. He asked and asked, but no one knew about Severus Snape, the man in the black coat. Harry was ready to cry from despair. He was already shaking from the cold, his teeth chattering , but he decided to run through the park again. Water poured from the sky in a stream, washing away the black trees and knocking the last leaves from the branches. He did not meet a single person. The city was deserted, and only freezing rain remained. He returned to Snape's and knocked on the door, sitting on the stairs to wait. Water was running from his hair, dripping onto the steps. He wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes. He prayed to every god he knew, desperately wishing for Snape to come back. "Have I already told you that you are an idiot? " He stood one step below, wearing a completely dry coat, with a paper bundle under his arm. “Yes,” Harry replied, parting his trembling lips. “You always said that.” Snape walked past and turned the key in the door. Harry sat on the stairs and watched over his shoulder. "Are you coming or not?" came a sharp voice from the apartment. Harry walked in timidly and modestly. He felt a total relief from which he was afraid to fall to his knees. Snape hung his coat on a hook, tore open the package and pulled out a book. And Harry called himself a well-deserved idiot. Bookish. How could he not have guessed. “I thought you…” he croaked, looking up at Snape. “You weren’t so bad that I went to drown myself,” he replied without looking up from his book. “I’m glad to hear it,” Harry smiled weakly. "Do you want to get pneumonia? Take off your clothes, I already looked at everything last night," Snape said sternly and, slamming the book shut, went into the kitchen, where he put the kettle on. Harry walked into the hall and with trembling hands began to pull off his soaking wet shirt. He had to fiddle with his jeans, they stuck unpleasantly to his skin. Throwing everything on the floor, even his underpants, he wrapped himself in a thin green blanket. Snape came out of the kitchen with a large mug of steaming tea. Harry took it, trying not to touch anyone else's fingers. "So?" Snape asked, sitting down on a chair. "You came to me to...?" "First, tell me what you remember?" Harry asked, wanting to delay the inevitable. “Okay,” Snape sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “I woke up in the hospital. As the doctors later said, I was admitted with a ruptured soft tissue of my throat. If they hadn’t given me a blood transfusion immediately, I would have died. However, that’s not the most interesting thing, I didn’t know who I was. The tests didn’t reveal a concussion, which could have led to memory loss. There were no documents in my pockets, but a little later someone paid the hospital bill, and one fine morning the nurse brought me the account number with a pretty good amount. "How did you live after that?" Harry asked, trying not to look at Snape. " No way. I tried to find relatives and friends on TV and radio. But after six months, no one had come. They made me new documents and sent me packing. I didn’t know who I was, what I could do, what I did, or how I lived before. I didn’t have an address to return to, or a real name. I wandered around the country, trying to find something. In the end, I ended up here. " " Why didn't you start a new life? You had money, that's already a lot, to buy yourself a nice house and grow lilies in the garden. " " To start a new life, I must know about the past. What will I do with the house and what do I need lilies for? I have lost myself… All I have left are nightmares, which have made me go crazy. I want to know who I am. " He fell silent. And Harry looked out the window, but saw nothing: "What if the truth turns out to be too terrible for you to forgive yourself? And the best way out is not to know? " "This is cowardice! You are responsible for everything you do. And there is nothing more terrible than screaming into the void. Tell me, what did I do that was so terrible? " “You saved me and the world,” Harry whispered. “I wanted to protect you. They wouldn’t have believed you, wouldn’t have believed that you killed at his request. That he asked you to do it. They would have locked you up and not bothered to look into it. I wanted to give you a chance to live free from them and this world. But I was wrong about you. As always.” Snape's brows drew together and he stared at him blankly. Harry set his mug down and pulled up his jeans, pulling out two wands. " Until... I gave you back... everything, tell me, what did you fill the emptiness with? " " Return what? Why do you always speak in riddles? " "Please," Harry said quietly. "We can't talk like this anymore, and I like you like this." "Were we lovers?" Snape asked. " What?" Harry was surprised. " No! No... " and laughed. " Damn, that would be crazy. No. " “You somehow categorically deny it,” Snape narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why do you need this?” " I want to know what it’s like to be free. " "That's not freedom. That's loneliness. Don't ask me what I filled the void with," Snape turned away. "Anyone would have done, and no one would have done." Wagging its fluffy tail, a black cat entered the hall and, sitting down next to Snape, stared at Harry with its huge green eyes. "Tell me, do you like me even a little?" Harry suddenly asked. “You are the strangest person I have ever met,” Snape winced and added, “I don’t know you, but you irritate me by the very fact of your presence in my apartment.” “And yet?” Harry smiled. "I don't know why I know you," Snape answered quietly. "Something in me resists and yearns for you. Yes, I like you more than I hate you." Harry smiled happily: " You would never have told me such a thing if you were in your right mind. " "Anything else before I hear the answers to my questions?" he raised an eyebrow. " My wife cheated on me. Even though it hurts, I don't blame her. I haven't had feelings for her for a long time - it's a habit. Our children can't support us anymore, I have three of them. I don't know why I gave myself to you that morning. You seem more real to me than the reality I survive in. " Harry got up from the bed and walked over to Snape, lowering himself to look up at him, and wrapping his arms around Snape's legs, resting his chin on Snape's knee. "Your face is so open now," he said. "I like to read emotions there. You are beautiful, Severus." Snape's whole body flinched, he jerked to the side and stared at Harry in shock. "Is that my name?" he croaked. “Yes. It’s a beautiful name,” Harry smiled, reading the emotions from the pale face. “Why did you sleep with me?” Snape's eyes grew sad. " I thought I could remember something. And you yourself said that you wanted this too... " " It was just sex, but I liked it. You know, we're too old for this shit, but I feel calm with you. Kiss me, Severus. For the last time. " Harry reached for his lips, which opened trustingly to meet his. Snape kissed him back sincerely, as if they had truly been good lovers in the past. Harry reached for this simple man, who, it seemed, in any of a thousand lifetimes would call him an idiot. At least something eternal in this world. He put his arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. He would miss this man. " It’s a pity that we have so little time... I would spend a few weeks with you, you would read books to me, and I would cook something delicious for you. " “Don’t torture me, tell me already,” Snape asked, looking into Harry’s soul. “It’s unlikely that anything will change, you’re already in my bed…” Harry returned to the bed, sat up and, hanging his head, clutched his hair with his hands. The blanket fell from his shoulders, and the cold air sent goosebumps down his skin. His body was still cold from the rain, but his lips and heart were burning from the kiss. Gray clouds were rushing out the window, scratching the spires of the houses. The silence was deafening. No one lived in the entire house, city, and country. Even the cars on the street had stopped rustling their tires. The world was dead. And only the two of them were left. He finally raised his head. Snape was still sitting in the chair, his arms folded across his chest again. His fingers were in fists, his eyes were questioning, his black hair with gray threads blended into the twilight of the room. Harry handed Snape his wand. “What is this?” he asked, turning it over in confusion. "Finite Incantatem," Harry whispered, waving his wand. Snape froze. Every muscle in his face turned to stone. His eyes, which had been openly looking at Harry, slowly faded, losing their shine. His eyebrows sank into a single line. His lips tightened. Even his body gathered itself, tensed. His shoulders tensed. Harry was prepared for any outcome, even a fatal one. After all, it wasn't for nothing that he gave up his wand. Snape stood up so abruptly that the chair tipped over and the cat hissed and rushed into the kitchen. He was breathing deeply and raggedly. His chest rose high, stretching the fabric of his black turtleneck. The wand in his hand trembled with tension. A few sparks flashed at the end. His whole body tensed, every muscle tensed. And the silence rang just as clearly, but the world was silent. Harry sat quietly on the bed, watching Snape. He really regretted that it had all ended so quickly. They hadn't even spoken, but they understood each other with half a glance. Like yesterday, when Snape, frightened by the storm, was trembling. Now he was trembling with anger. “How…” he spat, advancing menacingly on Harry, “how could you?” But Harry was silent. He didn't even look up when Snape stood so close that not even air separated them. "What?!" he screamed and, grabbing Harry by the shoulders, lifted him from the bed and shook him with all his might. His fingers dug hard into the skin, trying to break the bones. "I won't ask you for forgiveness," Harry replied. "I did what I had to do. I wanted what was best." " You took everything from me! My home, my friends, my memories, my life! Azkaban, compared to you, is a place of mercy! " "You were dying," Harry answered monotonously, looking straight ahead. "I wanted to save you." "You'd be better off letting me die!" Snape screamed in his face and, throwing him away, rushed into the kitchen. Harry fell onto the bed, wincing from the pain in his shoulders. There was a terrible crash, apparently the iron kettle in which Snape had boiled water for him, flew into the wall. Harry picked up the mug from the floor and sipped the now cold tea. The taste of peach liqueur remained on his tongue. After all, Snape was definitely more caring without memory than with memory. A minute later, Snape walked slowly into the room, angrier than before. Harry held his gaze calmly. Only Merlin would know what it had cost him. " Twenty years... " Snape croaked. " Twenty years... And you got married, raised children, got divorced, what else did you do?! Built a house?! Defeated the third incarnation of the Lord?! Tell me at least something, otherwise I will kill you for years... " "I don't regret sleeping with you," Harry replied. "I enjoyed it. Remember what I said about how I felt about you. I wasn't playing or pretending." “You…” Snape pressed. “You’re so easy…” But Harry already had his wand to his temple. “My turn,” he breathed out, feeling the tears treacherously blurring Severus’s face. Twenty years had dulled Snape's reflexes. He didn't have time to push the hand away. The spell's beam broke and illuminated the dark room for a second. The wand fell to the floor and rolled into the middle of the room. *** Rain hits the glass. The smell of late autumn creeps through the crack in the window. He wrinkles his nose comically and turns over. Nearby, like a propeller, a cat purrs. He opens his eyes, smiles slightly, stroking the soft fur. There is not a single thought in his head, and his body is light, as if it is about to fly away. He stretches, throwing his arms out to the sides. He doesn't care about time. When it rains, you can lie around longer. How does he know this..? A tall, dark-haired man approaches the bed and hands him a mug. “Good,” he says as if he wants to die in agony. " Who are you? " The brain works lazily, looking for answers and generating new questions. " Who am I?" The man takes a slow, deep breath and wrinkles his nose. " My name is Severus Snape, and yours is Harry. " "Severus... Harry..." he rolls it on his tongue. The names feel warm somewhere on the locks of memory. "Is it too early?" “Yes,” Severus replies and sits down next to him on the bed. “You can sleep, we have winter ahead of us to get to know each other again.”