Snarry Fic, la la la ....
Title: The Bargain
Pairing: Severus/Harry
Rating: R
Summary: Post DH, Severus makes a bargain with Death, but when he returns to life, nothing is how he imagined it should be.
Warnings: DH compliant except for the epilogue. Past mentions of Mpreg, but only in conversation.
Disclaimer: I don't own this at all. So... there.
A/N: I dunno where the HELL this idea came from. It just sort of struck me and then irritated me until I wrote it. Now I can get back to my WIP. Stupid muse. X-posted liek woah.



----------- -------------

I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land

I Have A Rendezvous With Death by Alan Seeger

Being the man he was, having the job he had, Severus Snape had often thought on his own death. There were thousands of ways he could see it happening, and in each of those scenerios, he imagined- no, he knew- that he would die before the war ended. He would not live to see the moment when the Dark Lord fell.

Of course that day, that last day of his life, he had momentarily doubted his previous thought. For a moment he thought maybe he had done everything right and, as he thought he rightfully should, he would live to see the end of the war.

But alas, he had misjudged that last moment.

When he woke again, after death, he was confused and although he knew he was dead, he didn't feel dead. It wasn't as he thought it was going to be. He wasn't in any sort of pain, he felt no heat from hell's eternal flames, and no sounds of choir angels welcomed him to Heaven.

There was a soft chuckle and Snape, who was lying on a cold stone floor, sat up and looked around. The room was bare, the walls had no corners but it was not circular. This defied logic, and Snape momentarily wondered why he still had logic,not to mention thoughts and feeling as a normal, living human had.

But of course, who was he to question the afterlife, so he shrugged it off and stood up in favour of looking for the thing the laughter belonged to.

From a shadowy part of the room, a figure emerged. He was taller than Snape, clad in a black three piece suit with short black hair, pasty skin and icy blue eyes. He was not ugly, nor was he attractive, but he was remarkable.

"Severus Snape," the man, or whatever he was, said. His voice was devoid of any accent and it was very low and smooth.

"Who are you?" Snape asked. He looked down and saw he was still clad in his teaching robes, but they were clean of blood and soot. He felt his throat, and the skin there was smooth.

"You are not in your body," the man said. "You are spirit."

"But I'm tangible," Snape argued.

"To yourself, you are," he said.

Snape shrugged and then repeated his earlier question. "Who are you?"

"In your language, I am called Death," he said.

"Ah," Snape said and he found it to be sort of sarcastically amusing. "So you're here to take me to wherever? Heaven, hell?"

Death chuckled again. "There is no such place. Heaven and Hell were created out of the human fear of nothingness. Out of a human's desire to believe that earth cannot be the end of all consciousness."

"Is it?" Snape asked and then shook his head. "Obviously not, as I am standing here talking to you."

"It is not," Death acquiesced, "but that is no concern to you at this moment."

"Why not?" Snape argued. "I'm dead, aren't I? My body is lying on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack, all the blood drained from it."

"You are partially right," Death said. Death took a step forward, turned his body slightly and waved his hand. Before Snape's eyes, his body, exactly as it was in its state of death, appeared, floating in midair. "I've acquired your body."

"What?" Snape said, now feeling frightened. "What for? What's going on? Can I not even die in peace?"

"It seems not," Death said with a wry smile. "I can let you die in peace, if that is what you wish, but before you make your choice, I have a proposition for you."

Snape, who had been pacing, stilled. "A proposition?"

"Yes. A favour from you in exchange for life from me."

"Could you please attempt to be less vague?" Severus snapped irritably. Even in death his temper was short and his patience even shorter.

"Every thousand years or so," Death began, "I crave life. I crave to walk amongst the living, in a body that is alive. I am asking you for your permission to use your body and in exchange, when I return to you here, your spirit can return to your body and your life can continue."

"Why me?" Severus asked. "Surely I was not the only one to die during this war."

Death shrugged and said, "Why not you?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "And how long will you play puppet master with my corpse?"

"It will seem like moments to you, as this place is not subject to the laws of time."

"And on earth?"

"I cannot know. Until my craving has been satisfied. I assure you, you will not lose many years on your human form."

Severus resumed his pacing. "And I get to go back to life and live it without any complications?"

"None that will occur because of my doing," Death assured him.

Severus stood still and silent for the longest time. Eventually he, against what might be better judgement, nodded his head.

-------- --------- --------

Death had not lied. It seemed that Snape had only blinked and Death returned. He was in the same form as he had been in before and Snape's body was still suspended in air, although the wounds on his neck were gone, replaced by ugly scars. Still, Severus had been in worse states before, in life, and a few scars wouldn't do anything to mar his already ugly outward appearance.

"So I can..." Snape gestured towards his body.

Death nodded and before Snape could do anything himself, he was violently shoved into his body.

He hit the floor and sat up with a gasp, realising that he was now breathing again for the first time. He stood up and looked at Death. "And now?"

Death gestured towards one of the walls that had become like a silver pool. "You go back to life."

Without hesitation, Snape nearly ran for the wall. He briefly heard Death call out, "But there is one last thing!"

Snape attempted to turn back around but his body had already touched the portal and he was sucked in.

-------- -------- ---------

Severus Snape sat up, gasping for air, clawing at his neck. The last thing he remembered was Nagini biting him in the neck, killing him. His eyes blinked against the harsh, morning light and he realised he was sitting up in a bed, wearing black pyjamas, and very much alive.

Terrified and confused, Snape looked round and realised he had absolutely no idea where he was or who's bed he was lying in. The last time he checked, he slept in the Highest Tower of Hogwarts, in the Headmaster's quarters, and these were definitely not them.

Snape groaned, his voice raspy and thick with sleep. He could feel thick scars under his fingers that were still trying to stop the flow of blood from wounds that were no longer there.

"So I'm alive," Snape said. He sounded the same. "Okay," he said aloud, feeling comforted by a voice, even if it was his own. He peered at the floor and saw a pair of slippers that looked to be about his size.

"Okay," Snape said again and slipped his feet into them. He saw a black dressing gown draped over the back of a chair in the room and he could only surmise that was also his. He slipped it over his shoulders and walked to a chest of drawers that had a mirror perched on top.

He leant towards the glass and examined himself thoroughly. "You still appear to be Severus Snape," he said to his reflection. His hair had a sprinkling more grey than before, and of course the ugly scars from Nagini, but otherwise he was quite the same.

He looked down and saw his wand lying near his fingers and he picked it up. "Still have magic as well," Snape said as he shot a few red sparks from the tip. He tucked the wand into the pocket of his dressing gown and decided he should continue to explore.

He was fairly certain he was not at Hogwarts, and damn sure he was not at Spinner's End, so he had no choice but to venture outside of the room. It didn't quite occur to him, just yet, that he might want to wonder why he didn't remember anything from his 'death' until this moment. For the moment he was centred on finding out where the hell he was and how the hell he got there.

Outside of the bedroom was a short corridor with two other doors. Opening them, he found one bathroom and one bedroom that appeared to be a child's room.

"Can't be my home," Snape said.

He walked down the corridor where it opened into a lounge with a large fireplace, a sofa, three squashy armchairs and a variety of small photographs littering shelves all over the walls.

Snape moved to inspect the first photo but spun round when he heard , "So you're finally up," from behind him.

Drawing his wand, Snape levelled it at the intruder, which, to his horror, he found to be Harry Potter. Or who he assumed to be Harry Potter, aged at least ten years. "You!" Snape hissed.

Harry, or maybe Harry, frowned in confusion. "Severus, what the hell?"

Harry Potter, so familiar that he called him Severus? "What is going on?" Snape hissed. "What are you doing here? What am I doing here?"

A flicker of fear crossed Harry's face. "What's going on, Severus? What the hell are you talking about?" Harry took a step towards Snape, which caused Snape to take two steps back. "Will you stop it. Put your bloody wand down."

"Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on, Potter."

Harry's eyes widened. "Pot-" he shook his head and before Snape could blink, Harry drew his wand and stupified him. Snape, though he wasn't consciously aware of it, hit the ground with a loud thud.

When Snape finally came to, he found he could only move his head. He was in a body-bind and Harry Potter and the ever-familiar Kingsley Shacklebolt were standing over him. He was still in that lounge, propped up on the sofa, and the two men were whispering quietly.

"He's come round," Harry said, nodding towards Snape.

The pair approached and Kingsley levelled his wand in between Snape's eyes. "Who are you?"

"You know bloody well who I am," Snape bit. "Severus Snape. Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"You see," Harry said helplessly. "I don't understand. Everything was fine last night and now this."

"What?" Severus snapped. "What do you mean everything was fine last night?"

Kingsley turned his attention back to Snape. "I'm going to ask you once more, who are you?"

"Goddamn it!" Snape roared. "Will someone explain what is going on right now?!"

Kingsley took out a small syringe and stuck it in Snape's arm, drawing blood into the small tube. "Whoever this might be could easily best Veratiserum, so I'm going to examine his blood. Even Polyjuice can't fool DNA."

Harry nodded and retreated to the other side of the room, watching Snape with a hooded gaze. Kingsley disappeared from view and stayed gone for quite some time. Just as Severus was plucking up courage to demand more answers out of Potter, the tall man returned.

"It's as I feared," Kingsley said.

"Who?" Harry gasped.

"He's Severus."

"What?" Harry admonished.

"I bloody well told you. Now will you let me effing loose?" Snape was furious, and beyond that, he was sick and tired of being confused.

Kingsley sighed and gestured to Harry, who reluctantly released Snape from the hex. Flexing his limbs, Snape stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. "Someone, for the love of all things holy, explain to me what is going on."

"Do you know who I am?" Harry asked pointedly.

"I can only guess by your irritating hair and annoying eyes that you are Harry Potter," Severus said.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Kingsley asked, a little more gently this time.

Severus opened his mouth to answer when the front door opened and a short, black haired girl of about nine or ten, walked into the room. "Hey!" she cried. "What's going on? Hi Kingsley!"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Olivia, love, would you mind going back to Neville's quarters. We've just got a small situation right now, okay?"

"But," she protested, stomping her foot.

"I said now," Harry said, his voice firmer.

The girl turned her eyes on Snape. "Daaaad?" she whined.

Snape's eyes widened when he realised she was calling him dad. "Oh dear sweet Merlin."

Harry paled. "Olivia! Now!"

The girl stuck out her bottom lip and rushed out the front door, slamming it on her way out.

Snape did his best not to faint, and he backed up to the sofa. "She called me... she can't be..."

Harry swallowed thickly, his green eyes watery and confused. "Severus," he said, his voice all-but begging. "What do you remember last?"

Severus swallowed thickly and touched the side of his throat. "The Shrieking Shack," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Nagini..."

"That's it?" Harry asked. His voice was choked. "That's the last thing?"

"I thought I was dead," Snape said. His voice was far off and he wasn't looking at Harry or Kingsley. "Will someone please explain?"

"I think he should go to St Mungo's," Kingsley said. "Quietly. You know what'll happen if the press get wind of this."

Harry cleared his throat and shook his head. "Yes, I know. I know. Can you take him? I don't want to leave Olivia until I've made proper arrangements."

Snape looked up at Harry. "How long has it been since..." he touched his throat again.

Harry blinked and then said, "Thirteen years."

"Oh," was all Snape could bring himself to say. He looked up at Kingsley and then said, "Yes. Yes perhaps... perhaps we ought to go."

--------- ---------- ----------

At St Mungo's, all the normal tests were done, and then some of the more abnormal tests. Then tests that were only theory were done and at the end of things, all anyone could offer was a possible diagnosis of selective amnesia.

Harry appeared as the diagnosis was being given and he looked, again, as though he might cry. "Selective Amnesia?" Harry said aloud. "Does that mean he's choosing not to remember the past thirteen years?"

"Please do not speak as if I'm not in the room," Snape grumbled.

Everyone ignored him. "I do not think he's choosing to forget anything," the Healer said. "I just cannot see reason for the amnesia. No recent head trauma, and as far as I am aware, he has not ingested any unusual potion experiments, nor had he been brewing recently. Am I correct?"

"Yes," Harry said miserably. "He hasn't brewed in two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Severus asked with wonder.

"You were writing," Harry said. "You er... write now," Harry continued. "Books."

"I do what?" Snape asked. "Who put that rubbish idea in my head?"

"I did," Harry said softly. "And when I brought it up six years ago, you thought it was great."

"Please tell me I at least write research books," Snape begged.

Harry nodded. "Yes. You're still Snape, you know."

Severus licked his lips. "I think I'm going to be ill." He did look a bit green and his head began to spin a bit. "I'm so confused."

The Healer sent for a sedative and Snape took it without question. "So what now?" he asked as he laid back in the bed.

"Not much to be done," the Healer said. "We could attempt to access your locked memories, but that will take the skill of an Occlumens that we do not have here, and it could pose a problem if you are repressing the memories due to a traumatic event."

"I don't see how that's possible," Harry said. "He's been home all this time."

Snape groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Are we living together, Potter?"

"It's Snape," Harry said. "I've taken your surname, and yes, Severus, we are."

"You've taken my-" Snape said with extreme digust. "Do not tell me we have married."

Harry turned away and Snape could see the younger man racked with sobs. It struck something in him, pity, perhaps? But the pity wasn't enough to overwhelm the feelings of outrage and shock at hearing he had married, of all people, Harry effing Potter.

"This is insane. I think I actually have died and this must be hell," Snape moaned. "And that child?"

"Ours," Harry said in a low voice.

"A male copulation?" Severus asked in wonder. He had heard of such things. "I allowed you to carry my child?"

Harry turned on him, his green eyes dark and furious. "No, Severus, I allowed you to carry my child. Nine years ago next month, you gave birth to our daughter. You insisted we call her Olivia and you gave up your job to look after her while I toured with my Quidditch team. Eventually, at your insistence because I had been missing so much of our family, I quit and took a post at Hogwarts where we could live, you could write and Olivia could grow up away from the press who always wanted a glimpse of the Potter-Snape spawn."

Severus let out a shaking breath and closed his eyes. "I think I need to sleep. I can only hope that when I wake, this will all have been a horrific nightmare." He ignored the sob Harry let out and before long, the sedative was working fully and he was asleep.

Severus didn't know just how long he'd slept, but when he woke, to his horror, he was still at St Mungo's and the sun was just beginning to poke through the high window. He also sensed he was not alone and when he sat, he saw the familiar, bushy brown hair of one former student, Hermione Granger. Or well, used to be Granger. Possibly.

"Welcome back to the living," she said.

Severus gasped. "The living?"

"You've been out for two days," she explained.

Oddly, he was disappointed that she wasn't implying anything else. "I see."

Hermione rose from her chair and approached Severus' bed. She at least had the decency not to invade his personal space, he noted, as she perched on the very end of his bed.

"Harry was over last night," she said. "Explained everything to us."

"Us?" Snape said and smirked. "I'm sure Mr Weasley is having jolly good time of it, trying to convince Potter that it's for the best." Snape wasn't sure why he sounded so bitter at the thought that someone would try and convince Harry that they were not good together.

Hermione's smile widened. "I do not know what Mr Weasley might have said, I am not married to him."

Severus' eyes widened. He had always assumed those two would eventually marry. He had always thought Hermione too smart for a dunderhead like Weasley, and now he found himself rather impressed. "I see."

"I married Viktor Krum," Hermione said, further shocking Snape. "He's much more intelligent than one might assume, once I got past the language barrier. He also speaks English fluently now, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't," Snape said. "So tell me Miss... Mrs Krum?" Hermione nodded. "You and I are close, are we?"

"Not particularly," Hermione said. "I support you and Harry but you've never been fond of me."

"So why are you here?" he asked.

"I have been ordered to try and access your memories. Besides you, Snape, I am the only true skilled Occlumens in Britain at this moment. Sad as that fact is, I am bound by the law and the courts and besides, I love Harry and the fact that you cannot remember him or your daughter is killing him."

Severus felt a pang of regret at that statement but he did not show it. Instead he sat up and said, "Well get on with it."

"I'm going to ask you to please not fight me. Do know that all of your dark secrets were revealed to Harry, Ron and myself after the war so there is nothing you should feel the need to hide and nothing you should feel ashamed of."

Severus felt a wave of fury at that admission. He had taken great pride to keep his dark secrets secret, and now some mudblood was telling him she knew everything. Still, he couldn't be sure he hadn't spilt everything himself, and he quietly acquiesced to her, and allowed her to make eye contact with him.

When it was done, Severus was both irritated and impressed with Hermione's skill. True, she wasn't as good as him, but with age and practise, she would be.

Hermione found herself heavily confused and disappointed that she had come away with nothing. "It's blank," she said.

"Sorry?" Severus asked as he tried to regain his full bearings. "Blank?"

"It's the only thing I can think of to describe it," she explained. She rose and began to pace a little. "It's like your memories for the last thirteen years don't exist. They're just... gone."

"No charm or curse exists that can remove a person's memories," Severus said slowly.

"I know," Hermione said. "It's like for the last thirteen years, you were not you."

---------- ---------- ----------

Severus was kept at St Mungo's for the next two days. He didn't see Harry until the night he was being released, and thankfully, Harry came alone. Severus realised he had nowhere to go besides his home, the home he shared with Harry, and he had made peace with it.

Harry arrived as the Healers were readying Severus' release papers and he walked in the room without knocking. "I want to apologise," Harry said immediately.

"For?" Severus asked.

"Crying," Harry said. "I know you hate it. I was just- I am just- confused."

"As am I," Severus said. "Deeply."

"Sev- Snape," Harry said.

"We are familiar," Severus amended, "so you may use Severus."

Harry took in a shaking breath. "I don't know what to say anymore! You're my husband and yet you can't remember anything besides hating me and I don't know what to do with that. A week ago we were planning a holiday to France and now you're fighting to deal with the fact that we no longer dislike each other."

Severus took it all in and when Harry was done, he nodded. "I cannot say anything to ease your discomfort Po- Harry." He stopped and then said, "At who's request did you change your surname?"

"Mine," Harry said which relieved Snape a little. "When I told you about my decision you said that husbands are separate from wives by their cocks and surnames. You said, wives do not have those two things, but they have everything else. You told me I should try to retain what little bit of my manhood I still possessed." Harry smiled a little.

"Sounds like something I might say, if inebriated."

Harry laughed. "You were. And I was stubborn and eventually got my way and changed my last name to Snape."

"And the rest of the Wizarding World?" Snape asked.

Harry snorted. "Were still reeling at the news of us getting married."

Severus nodded. "I wish I could remember, if only to understand better."

Harry offered Snape a sad sort of smile. "I'll answer whatever questions I can, but I don't know how to go about recreating thirteen years of building love and companionship between us."

"Do you love me?" Snape asked. Harry loving him was assumed and implied seeing as they were married and had a child together, but it was different when he actually thought about it.

Harry blinked a little and then said, "Yes. More than I've ever loved anyone."

"Do I love you?"

Harry fell silent for a moment and then said, "You did."

When Snape had been taken to St Mungo's, they had gone by floo, so he was a little surprised to find himself standing outside the gates that led to Hogwarts. "We live here?" Snape asked Harry before they crossed the threshold.

"Special circumstances," Harry said. "I mean, I guess they usually are when it comes to the pair of us," he paused to chuckle. "But Minerva insisted that we live here together."

"I see," Snape said. In all his years teaching at Hogwarts, he had never seen a professor live there with their significant other or children. "So Minerva is Headmistress now?"

Harry nodded. "Since the castle was restored. You were offered your old job back but you happily declined in favour of acquiring premises in Diagon Alley. You lived there until we got married and then... well you know the rest."

"Yes, you explained it quite well."

Harry sighed again and pushed the gates open, allowing Severus to be the first one through. They headed back to the castle, Snape walking slightly behind Harry, and he took it all in. The day he fled from Hogwarts, chased away by Minerva and Filius, he thought he would never see the castle restored.

It was odd now, being back, knowing he had lived here for years and could not remember it. "So you teach what?" Snape asked.

"Muggle studies," Harry said absently as he led Snape inside and up the stairs that led to the staff quarters. "I also teach flying to the first years and coach Quidditch."

"What about Hooch?"

"She died," Harry said simply.

"Oh," Snape said and then he realised he had no idea who had lost their lives in the war. "Many people died?"

Harry gasped, as if it had just occurred to him as well, that Snape didn't know who died. "I forgot you don't remember..." Harry trailed off. "I have a list of the casualties inside," he said, his tone a bit short.

"Is our child inside?" Snape asked as Harry unlocked the door to their quarters.

"No," Harry said. "She's with Neville."

"Longbottom?" Snape asked with a sneer.

"Yes," Harry said. They walked inside and Harry lit the lamps. "Neville is the Professor for Herbology and Head of Gryffindor." Harry hung his cloak on a peg and gestured Snape towards the lounge. "I have something for you. Go sit and you can look it over while I make tea."

Snape complied numbly and a moment later, Harry came out from the back room with a small box. He set it on the sofa cushion next to Severus. "It's my memory box. Inside is a list of those who lost their lives in the war."

"Friend or foe?" Snape asked as he fingered the box's lid.

"Both," Harry said and with that, he disappeared out the front door.

Snape waited a moment but eventually curiosity took over and he opened the box. He half-expected it to containa small pensive or something, but instead he found a roll of parchment and a huge stack of photographs.

Not quite sure he was ready to brave the photos, he picked up the parchment and unrolled it. The names were all listed alphabetically and beside each was given a cause of death, meaning the person who killed them or what spell killed them, and the date. Most of the dates were on the same day.

Severus took in the many names of Order members, Death Eaters and students and winced at how many students had been killed. He was not surprised to find Remus Lupin on the list, but he was surprised when he didn't see a single Malfoy.

What did shock him was seeing his own name, along with a resurrection time which was hours after the battle, it appeared, had ended. And another name he hadn't expected to see was Harry's. Listed beside his name was the killing curse and Voldemort. Snape set aside the list and made a mental note to ask Harry about it later.

The next in the box were the photographs and Severus realised that he was terrified to look. Whatever was going on, whatever was hidden somewhere in his mind, these photographs might make him remember, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

This was Harry Potter, for fuck's sake. And as far as he could remember back, he hadn't ever had an interest in Potter. Either of the Potters. In fact, Snape hadn't really had interest in anyone besides Lily Evans and that remained, for the most part, unrequited, and most definitely unreciprocated.

Yet, this was Snape's life, or a good chunk of it, in the bottom of this box. It was there, all neatly laid out in photographs ready for the taking. He let out a breath and reached in.

The photos seemed to be in a chronological order. Leave it to Potter to keep such a meticulous order in only this part of his life, Snape thought. He still hadn't really looked down at the photos but it was now or never.

---------- ---------- ------------

Hours had passed. Snape didn't realise Harry had stayed gone for so long until the front door opened and the younger man walked in. Snape had just got done going through the entire box and he was even further away from answers.

It cleared up a bit for him when it came to what he did and when, but it didn't solve the mystery of why he had, somehow, fallen in love with Potter. He felt ill again and he was torn between a desire to demand answers from his would-be husband and a desire to run as far away as he could get.

"Did they help?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the box.

"No," Snape said plainly. "I thought you were getting tea."

Harry shrugged. "I ended up spending some time with Olivia and trying to explain to her why you're ill. You two have a rapport no one can touch, Severus, and she's getting frightened."

"I don't really know what to tell you," Snape said with a shrug. "I don't remember her and the last time I checked, I hated children and never wanted any of my own."

Harry licked his lips. "God forbid she ever hear you say that."

Snape let out a puff of air. "When did I lose myself?" he asked suddenly. "How did I change so much, Potter, that I came to love you?"

Harry looked as though he might weep again. His eyes remained blessedly dry, however. "You didn't wake up and profess your undying love to me, if that's what worries you. As a matter of fact, I wasn't very interested in you either. I was courting Ginny Weasley and to be honest, I hated you so much for everything you'd done... for everything you'd kept secret."

"I see," Snape said. "Did I pursue you?"

"No," Harry said with a slight smile.

Snape sat back and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "Tell me."

"You were drunk; we both were very drunk. We were in the same pub in Diagon Alley and it was about six months after the war. I didn't even know you were still alive, so seeing you there was a shock. I was with Ron and Hermione and both of them tried to stop me from walking over to you, but they couldn't. I ran up to you and started screaming. You laughed in my face so I spat at you and you hit me."

Snape's eyebrows arched. "I hit you?"

Harry nodded. "Landed on my eye. Had a shiner for weeks, I did. And about a week later you sent me an owl, inviting me for tea. Ginny started to cry and begged me not to go. I think she knew, deep down, that we were meant to be together. I ignored her and came to your home for tea."

"Where did I live?" he demanded.

"Spinner's End," Harry said. "You still have it, rent it out at the moment."

"Oh. Interesting," Snape said mildly. "Continue."

"We had tea and screamed at each other. You told me my mother would be disappointed in me, I told you she would hate you for what you did, for the secrets you kept. We kept shouting and as the hours waned on, we started drinking. The next thing I remember was waking up in your bed. You were staring at me with this strange look in your eyes." Harry trailed off and shrugged. "We continued the liaison for about a year. I still courted Ginny but she found out about us. Ron went into a violent rage and when Hermione defended me, saying that perhaps I'd just found someone that I could really connect with, he split off from her. He realised it was stupid and tried to win her back and you told her she deserved better. You said she was a stupid Gryffindor and you were sick of seeing us stupid Gryffindors making choices for other people instead of ourselves."

"Did I say that?" Snape mused with a half grin.

"She listened to you and confessed she'd been having an affair with Viktor Krum for a few months."

"She did mention him at the hospital," Snape said.

"After listening to everything you had to say, I eventually confronted you on the affair. I asked you if it was some way to get my mum back into your life. You left that night and I didn't see you again for two weeks. When you did show up, you were stone-cold sober and so angry. You shoved me against the wall and said that I would never be her. That she was the only one you thought would ever truly care about you." Harry paused and laughed a little. "Then I said that no matter what kind of insults you hurl at me I would have still loved you. I told you that if it had been me back then, you wouldn't have joined the Death Eaters. You slept over that night and you never went home."

"When did I first use the L word?"

Harry laughed. "Love?" Snape gave a curt nod. "You don't. You've said it about five or six times while completely and utterly out of your mind pissed. And once, about a week after Olivia was born, you whispered it when you thought I was asleep."

"I see," Snape said.

Harry let out a small sigh and sat back in the armchair. "And that's pretty much it, Snape. I can't even say you have changed much, you're just more open now. You let us inside once and a while and its enough for us."

"Us?"

"Your daughter and me," Harry clarified.

"My daughter," Snape breathed.

Leaning forward, Harry met Snape's eyes. "I can't allow her to be hurt, Severus. I can't. I can't allow her to feel any of the pain you or I felt as a child and I'm terrified right now, because of your memory loss."

"Understandable," Snape said.

"I need you to make a decision right now," Harry said. "You need to decide what you're going to do. As far as everyone can tell, your memories are gone. They aren't just hiding in your mind, they are gone. So you need to decide whether you're going to try to make a life with us as you are now, or perhaps leave until your memories return. Or request a divorce from me and start again." Harry's voice was shaking slightly but his face was calm and his eyes were firm.

Snape had thought all of those things as well. This was his life, had been for thirteen years, but yet it had not because he couldn't remember ever loving, or wanting to love, Harry Potter. He opened his mouth to answer but the front door burst open and the young girl burst in.

She saw Snape and rushed to his side. "Hi dad," she breathed. "I thought you'd never get home. Neville was showing me this plant that looks like a stick! But it walks! And it bites if you aren't too careful! He said I could show you later, if you got home early enough but you weren't." The girl seemed to blather on without taking a single breath. Then, without warning, she leant forward and threw her arms round Snape's neck. "Are you still feeling ill? Dad said you went to see a healer so you could feel better."

Snape, unsure of himself or the situation, embraced the young girl for a moment and then gently pushed her back. "I'm feeling..." he paused, searching for the right words, "not myself lately."

"Was it a potion?" she asked.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Such little confidence from people who claim to know me so well," he said, having been accused of taking a dodgy potion several times now.

Olivia giggled. "You seem to be yourself."

Snape looked over at Harry. "I think I'm still feeling slightly ill and should have a lie down."

Harry nodded and stood, beckoning Olivia away. "Come on, Liv, let's let dad lie down and we can bring him some tea later."

Olivia kissed Snape's cheek and then bounded off to her bedroom. Snape rose from the sofa and went back into the bedroom he shared with Harry and lay back on the bed. His head was swimming and he wasn't sure what to make of the situation.

He tried desperately to feel some sort of kinship, some sort of parentage, over that child, but he could not. She was tolerable, more so than many he had met during his years teaching, but it didn't extend beyond that. And Harry? Even after the photos and the story of how they met and fell together, he still felt nothing.

Still, if he had been able to feel about him at all like that...

"I hate life. Why couldn't I have just died properly?"

------------ ----------- -------------

It was past midnight when Harry finally ventured into the bedroom. Snape was still up, pouring over a book, and he looked up when Harry entered. "She's sleeping? The child?"

"Olivia, and yes, she's sleeping." Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. "Have you made a decision?"

Snape looked at Harry for a long moment. "Strange as it may seem, I trust you when you say that I love you... er... loved you. I cannot draw up feelings for you or Olivia, try as I might. However, perhaps I could try again. Starting from scratch isn't going to be easy, but perhaps if I try and succeed, I might regain all that I've lost."

Harry drew one knee to his chest. "I want to say I'm happy to hear that, Severus, but I don't know if I am. I'm worried about Olivia. You can't pretend with her, she's too like you. She's excited to see you now because you've been gone a few days but that's going to wear off soon and she's going to realise you aren't the same you."

"So what are you suggesting?"

"That we sit her down and tell her," Harry said. "She's so smart she's bound to figure it out anyway, and even if you do choose to leave, she needs to understand, at least a little, about why you are the way you are."

Severus nodded slowly. "Fair enough." He paused for a long moment. "Do you wish me to leave?"

"No," Harry said fiercely. "No. Not ever, Severus."

Severus nodded again. "I would prefer to stay, at least for now. If we cannot make it work, I shall attempt my life elsewhere, but I will need some time to try and wrap my mind round the fact that thirteen years have passed since the final battle and that everything is different."

"I can give you whatever time you need," Harry said.

Snape set the book aside and allowed Harry to fetch him pyjamas. He dressed, overly conscious that Harry was in the room, and climbed between the sheets. He closed his eyes and waited, but he didn't feel Harry slip into the bed beside him. Eventually he turned and saw Harry watching him.

"Is there a problem?" he snapped.

Harry shrugged. "I just hate that I feel like a stranger in my own bed with my own husband."

Snape sighed and sat up. "Would you prefer it if I slept elsewhere?"

"No," Harry said. "I wouldn't." With that, he climbed in next to Snape. He moved, as if he was going to touch Snape, but pulled back, thinking better of it. With a flick of his fingers, the lamps went out and both men lay back against their pillows.

In the dark, all Snape had was his thoughts and those were almost suffocating.

--------- -------------- --------------

The young girl took the news as Snape expected she would. The next day Snape and Harry sat her down in the lounge and Harry took care with his words to explain what had happened.

"Olivia," he began passively, "there is something dad and I need to talk to you about. Dad has had a small accident."

"What kind of accident?" she asked, her wide, black eyes fixed on Snape.

"I'm not sure," Snape said, deciding to participate. "Unfortunately it has affected my memory."

"What?" Olivia asked.

"Your dad woke up the other day and something had happened to his mind," Harry said. "And the healers and even Hermione has looked him over but for some reason Dad can't remember anything."

"Anything?" she asked, pressing her fingers to her mouth. "At all?"

"He can't remember anything before his accident," Harry said, gesturing towards Snape's throat.

"But..." she said and trailed off. Her eyes filled with tears and she looked at Snape almost desperately. "You don't remember nothing?"

"Anything," Snape corrected absently.

Olivia gave a little sob. "He talks the same! But he's not dad?"

"I am," Snape said a little helplessly. "I mean, I'm still me I just..." he trailed off.

Harry sighed. "Darling, he's still your dad. He's the same man, but his mind got a little sick and we're trying to fix it."

The little girl was crying pittifully now and she was looking at Snape as though she had just learnt he was dead. "Daddy," she sobbed. "Nothing? Not even taking me to get my ears pierced or when you hexed that man who tried to hurt me in Diagon Alley or when you bought me my Hogwarts robes early..." she put her face in her hands and sobbed more.

Harry moved to take her into his arms, but in a surprising gesture, Snape moved first and gathered the girl into his arms. As he was watching her cry, he was struck with a strange sense of pity and, if he cared to admit it, love and a desire to keep her free from pain.

Olivia curled up against his chest and wept bitterly. Snape, feeling awkward and unsure, rubbed circles on her back and murmured things that he thought might be comforting. "It's not all bad. We can make new memories if you stop crying and calm down."

Olivia eventually sniffed, wiped her nose and eyes on the sleeve of her robe and looked up at her father with red rimmed eyes. "Do you still love me?"

Harry sucked in his breath and looked at Snape. 'Don't hurt her,' Harry mouthed.

Snape, who hadn't looked at Harry at all, said very softly, "Of course I do. How could I not?"

---------- ----------- ----------

After that, nothing was the same for Olivia or Harry, but it wasn't really terrible. Snape spent the bulk of his day pouring over tomes, trying to figure out what could've caused his memory loss. Olivia, who after the first breakdown, seemed a little wary of Snape, did her best to keep out of his hair.

Snape found that he didn't mind the girl so much and reckoned it was due to the fact that he had brought her up, and he knew he'd be damned if he raised a little hellion. Sneaky, maybe. Slytherin, most definitely, but not a brat.

Snape also noticed, as the months wore on, that Harry was growing increasingly sexually frustrated, and Snape reckoned that must be due to the fact that they obviously had a rather active sex life. Snape hadn't even really considered the possibility of buggering Harry, as in his current mind he was still a virgin, having lusted after one woman and never having had her.

He felt a pang of sorrow for Harry, knowing the man had turned his life upside down to try and accommodate Snape in this mission and he, for some strange reason, didn't want Harry to be miserable.

It was six months into Snape's "new" life and he eventually brought up the situation to Harry. They were crawling into bed with one another and Snape posed a question.

"Have you ever considered having an affair?"

Harry looked absolutely horrified. "What? Never! Severus, I've never cheated on you!"

Snape shook his head. "That isn't what I meant. I don't mean have you had an affair, I mean do you wish to consider one."

Harry frowned. "Why would I do that? Why are you even asking me that, Snape?"

Severus sighed and trailed his eyes down towards Harry's very obvious erection. "Because things for you have changed. It's unfair of me to expect you to live a life of celibacy because I cannot remember our relationship."

Each time Snape said it, Harry winced. This time was no different. "I don't care if I have to wank it out every morning," Harry said, his voice full of heat. "I don't care if I never have sex again, Severus. When I married you, when I promised that it was going to be you and only you until death bloody-well do us part, I meant it. So if that means you never find me attractive again, so be it. I'll settle for whatever this is. Please don't ever, ever ask me that again."

Snape was surprised, not only at Harry's anger, but his fierce loyalty. There was Gryffindor loyalty and then there was insane loyalty. Harry seemed to possess the latter. But it impressed Snape and drew up something else. Was he attracted to Harry? It hadn't even crossed his mind before that moment and he wondered if he was refraining from sex because he found Harry unattractive.

He fell back against his pillow and didn't say anything as Harry put out the lamps. He could hear Harry's uneven breathing and in the dark he could see Harry was turned away from him.

So was Harry so unattractive? Truth be told, Severus didn't really think so. He had never thought so. He just hadn't really thought about it at all. He had been so consumed with loving another that he hadn't even considered looking at another being. Especially when that being looked very much like the man who had taken Lily from him.

But that was so far in the past now, Severus wondered if it even mattered anymore. And really, it didn't. Lily was just a far off memory, an unfulfillable fantasy and those weren't really worth keeping round for that long. Were they?

Severus found his hand slowly creeping towards Harry. When his fingers met with the bare skin of Harry's back, the younger man let out a small gasp. In the dim light of the moon, Severus saw Harry's head turn towards him.

"Did you need something?"

Snape lifted up on one elbow to look at Harry's silhouette. "Er, no, not exactly," Snape said. He cleared his throat and ever so slowly, so Harry could pull away at any moment, he began to rub his fingers along Harry's bare arm. "Would you tell me about the first time we had sex? I don't mean the drunken foolishness, but the actual sex."

"You mean like, made love?" Harry asked.

"I hate that term," Severus said with a frown.

"I know," Harry said and chuckled. "But is that what you mean?"

"In so many words," Severus replied.

Harry sighed and absently he slipped his hand into Severus'. It was habit, he realised, but when he tried to pull away, Severus held on. Harry wasn't sure what it meant, or what it was supposed to mean, so he just started talking. "We'd been shagging for quite some time. You had been, before me, a virgin. But you weren't reclusive about your sexuality. You seemed pretty comfortable right from the off. I mean, I guess men are different in that sense." Harry shook his head and tried to stop rambling. "Anyway, it was about two weeks after you came to stay with me. It wasn't anything really significant and I didn't realise it until it was over."

"Didn't realise what?"

"That somehow we made a connection that went beyond physical," Harry said. "That night you fucked me face to face and when you were coming, you kissed me. I noticed it then."

"Did you call attention it," Snape asked and then hesistated, "or... was it me?"

Harry gave Snape’s fingers a gentle squeeze and rubbed his thumb on Snape’s palm. "You did. I think you already knew I had fallen for you and I think mostly it was that moment when I realised you felt the same. You grabbed the sides of my face afterwards and you stared at me for the longest time. Then you kissed me. The kiss was without purpose, without sexual motivation and I just knew."

Severus swallowed, fell silent for some time and then he said, "Show me."

"Show you?" Harry repeated softly. He leant up on his elbow, face to face with Snape. "Oh Severus, I don’t know. I mean-"

"Please," he bit through clenched teeth. "If we have shared over a thousand and one kisses, and if I really love you as much as all of that, I want you to show me."

"Okay," Harry breathed. He extracted his hand from Severus’, pushed his husband back against the pillows and sat up. Turning his body towards Severus, he gently took the other man’s face into his hands and brought his face forward.

Snape closed his eyes, feeling just how close Harry was to him. He could feel the heat from the other man burning into his skin and when Harry touched his face, he let out a small puff of air. As Harry came in closer, Snape could feel Harry’s breath on his eyelids, cheeks and lips.

In his mind he hadn’t been kissed before, and he had never kissed another. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and waited, but the kiss didn’t come.

Eventually Harry cleared his throat and said, "Would you please open your eyes and look at me?"

Snape did so. He could see Harry clearly, though in that dark he could not see the green of Harry’s eyes. And it was okay. He was not Lily’s son, suddenly, but another entity that loved Snape just as much as he claimed to.

"I love you," Harry breathed and brought his face down.

Snape wasn’t sure what to expect when their lips met. A rush of memory, perhaps, or an electric fire that took away all pain and all feeling and all worry.

There wasn’t any of that, but there was a sense of utter rightness to it. A sense that perhaps this was a good place for him, a place where he could belong. The kiss deepened and it felt familiar and comfortable and Snape, somehow, just knew what to do.

The next thing he knew he was pulling at Harry, kissing him harder and their clothes were being pulled at, opened, thrown to the side.

Harry was suddenly beneath Snape and Snape, though he wasn’t sure how he knew what to do, was preparing him. Harry’s face was sweaty, eyes half-lidded with desire as he urged Snape on. Snape slipped inside of him and oh it was so, so good.

"Ye gods," Snape hissed.

Harry gave him a small, rather sad smile. "It must be like fucking a stranger. I’m sorry." His voice was choked but his eyes remained dry.

"No," Snape said breathily and pushed himself all the way inside of Harry. "No. It feels familiar. It feels okay." He looked at Harry’s face again. "I think I see what you mean. I..." he was at a loss for words and suddenly his throat tightened.

Harry pulled Snape down on top of him and whispered against the hot skin of his neck. "Yes. Yes. Please..."

Snape nodded and felt a very odd sensation. A lump formed in his throat and there was the barest wetness in the corners of his eyes. Severus Snape did not cry but something was going on. Something was building inside of him.

He thrust and thrust inside of Harry, grunting and feeling and loving and Harry clung to him so tightly and it was perfect. He came, not loudly, with a fierce shudder and under his stomach he felt the wetness of Harry’s own climax.

It was over and suddenly a little awkward and Snape carefully extracted himself from Harry’s arms. The younger man fumbled for his wand and spelled them both clean and dry.

Setting his wand down, Harry reached out for his husband and Snape allowed himself to be pulled against Harry. "I don’t know if you’ll ever love me again," Harry whispered and pressed a kiss to Snape’s naked shoulder. "I don’t care, because no matter what, Severus Snape, I love you. I’m utterly, hopelessly devoted to you and I hope you will at least accept that of me."

Snape carefully ran his fingers into Harry’s hair. "I cannot imagine that I would reject such a thing, even from you, Mr Potter."

Harry laughed. "I shall take that in a good way."

"Do," Snape said and pressed a kiss to the top of Harry’s head. "I don’t know when it happened, or why, but I feel as if I can make this work." He paused and then said, "No. I feel as if I want to make this work. With you. And... and Olivia."

------- -------- --------

A year passed, and then two, and Snape didn’t have a whisper of memory, but he began to build new ones. He got to know Harry again and by the end of the first year was able to see why, thirteen years before that, he had allowed himself to fall for the younger man.

Oh they were not perfect. Snape still hated him sometimes. Snape was still violently reminded of James when Harry’s temper was short, or sometimes when Harry laughed at Snape’s expense. But eventually Snape realised Harry only laughed at the petty, pointless things, and Snape learnt that it was okay to feel that way.

It was okay, because he, too, laughed at those things. He found a deep love and fierce protectiveness for his daughter and when he saw her off on her first day of Hogwarts he felt a tightness in his chest of both pride and sorrow that she was so grown up and he did not remember the younger years.

And then, one night, Snape went to sleep and when he woke up, he was not alone. Harry was off doing his rounds in the castle so Snape jumped from his bed, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the stranger.

He was struck with a violent deja vu as he looked at this man. Plain looking and yet remarkable in just how plain the man was. He blinked. And blinked again. And then the man waved his hand in the air and the memory of Death hit Snape and the Wizard fell down to his knees.

"Oh God," Snape breathed as he clutched the side of his head. "What..."

"Stand up, please," Death said.

Snape complied. "Why didn’t you tell me," Snape hissed. "Why did I come back here like this?" And then a second realisation hit Snape. "It wasn’t me! Harry... Olivia... It was you."

"It was everything about you except your soul," Death said, spreading his hands out. "It was everything that would have been regardless of the soul in that body."

"Why?" Snape asked. "Why him? Why all of this?"

"Because you two are right for each other. Your souls fit together better than most."

"Soul mates?" Snape asked, voice heavy with sarcasm.

Death laughed. "Soul mates was created by a human mind far less capable than yours. I merely meant to convey that there is a likeness between the two of you that most do not- cannot- share. Relish it, Severus, because eventually the two of you will die and in the next consciousness you may not be lucky enough to find it again."

"Why are you here?" Snape demanded after he regained most of his bearings.

"You left too soon, before I was able to give you your options," Death explained.

"Oh well how coy, I have options now?" Snape bit out.

"You always did, but you were in such a hurry to live," Death said with a pleasant smile.

"Get on with it," Snape said. "Harry will be back soon." Then realisation struck him. "Will I... will he..."

"No," Death said, "nothing will change about your current situation. It’s your life now, Snape, and it will change only if you consciously wish it to."

"Okay," Snape said. "Will I remember any of this when you leave?"

Death held out both hands, and in his hands, two goblets appeared. "You will make your choice now, Severus Snape, about what you want. In my right hand I hold the memories of thirteen years. Thirteen years of love, life, hatred and satisfaction. It contains the first time you loved in earnest, your marriage, the birth of your daughter."

"And the other?" Snape choked out.

"It contains the bargain," he said with a simple shrug.

Snape sighed and looked out the window. The moon was reflecting off of the lake, and the bright glow was illuminating their bedroom. It wasn’t a hard decision, after all. He reached out, took the goblet and drank.

The next thing he knew, Harry was crawling into bed with him. "You awake?"

Severus’ eyes opened and he pulled Harry down to him. "Why do I feel like I haven’t seen you in years?" he whispered.

Harry laughed. "I was only gone thirty minutes. No trouble. No marauders this year, except those little Slytherins that tried to push that boy in the lake last week. It was a good thing I was right there, those damned Grindylows were lurking close to the surface that day."

Severus chortled. "Might’ve been good for the kid." He paused and then said, "Remember on Olivia’s fifth birthday when she captured that stupid Grindylow in a jar and begged us to keep it?"

Harry laughed. "Yes. Your face was so..." Harry trailed off. "Wait a moment. Did you just remember her fifth birthday?"

Snape frowned. "Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I remember such a thing?"

Harry sucked in his breath. "You... and our wedding? You remember that? And her birth? And... and..."

Snape took Harry’s face in his hands. "What are you talking about, Harry? Of course I remember. Why would I not remember those things?"

"Oh Severus!" Harry breathed and captured his mouth. "You remember..." As Snape’s tongue crept into Harry’s mouth, the bit of liquid that Snape still had coating his mouth went into Harry’s.

When the younger man pulled back, he shook his head. "What was I saying?"

"Talking rubbish," Snape said with a sly grin.

"Git," Harry said and snuggled down into his lover. "Whatever. I’m exhausted and I’m teaching flying tomorrow."

"Ah. Is Liv excited?" Snape asked as they pulled the blankets up to their chin.

"Oh yes. She tried to bargain with me to let her have a broom of her own, in secret. I told her if she makes the Quidditch team she may."

Snape laughed. "Merlin forbid, Harry. Merlin forbid."

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...

I Have A Rendezvous With Death by Alan Seeger