Snape was aware that his entrance to the ballroom had caused a scene; albeit, a highly dignified one.
Dowagers dripping in jewels straightened in their high-backed chairs and whispered furiously to each other behind their fans. Pompous merchants and old soldiers paused in their reminiscences and scowled, although a few looked at Snape as if they admired his gumption.
When one had retired from civilised society, one could expect that a return would cause some waves.
Snape could feel a smirk spreading across his lips and did nothing to halt it. He took a glass of champagne from an obsequious house-elf and stood his ground, allowing the room full of wizards and witches to look to their hearts content.
"I didn't expect to see you here," a voice said from behind him.
He turned slowly, eyes scanning the crowd, pinpointing those who seemed furious, those who looked scared, those who didn't care. "I have as much right to be here as anyone else."
Harry Potter's jaw was set. "I never said otherwise. I just don't think that anyone really expected you to come."
Snape's mouth twitched. "I live to shock, Potter."
At that, Harry seemed to deflate a little. "I wish you would. I wish someone would do something shocking."
The music, although never soft, seemed to rise in volume. Joyous, crystal notes bounced around the walls and mingled amongst the happy dancers on the polished wooden floor. Harry was a pale imitation of his youthful self – sombre, slouched, eyes that had burned with indignant passion now listless.
Harry had grown up.
"Life getting you down, Potter?" Snape enquired softly, placing his empty glass on a tray that was conveniently floating by. He took two full ones and gave one to Harry, who muttered his thanks before downing half in one swallow.
"I can't believe -- , after all that we've -- , is this it? I mean, we defeated Voldemort – " Harry muttered, frowning.
"You defeated Voldemort."
"Fine, I defeated Voldemort, and so many people died and suffered and after all the rebuilding and suffering and pain -- , seriously, is this it? Is this was it was all for?"
Snape took Harry's elbow and negotiated them through groups of celebrating people, who had stopped looking at Snape with suspicion when they'd seen the Saviour Of The Wizarding World speaking courteously to him. They ended up in a corner, surrounded by plush tapestries that swayed in time with the music.
"You seem disheartened."
"I'm tired, Snape."
Harry seemed like he'd run out of the will to continue. "Of?" Snape encouraged.
"This," Harry said, a touch petulantly for someone approaching their twenty-fifth year. "Of the crowds, of the balls, of the ceremonies. All of it."
Snape followed Harry's gaze, which was focussed on the other side of the room. Ginny Weasley looked flushed and happy as she prattled on at Hermione Weasley, whose distended stomach showed that the birth of her first child drew near. Ron had an arm around his pregnant wife, gesturing earnestly with the other as he spoke to a group of men he and Harry had grown up with.
"You know," Snape said casually, "it doesn't need to be that way." He took a sip of champagne.
Harry swung back to face him, the scent of his cologne wafting up from his formal robes. "What do you mean?"
Snape's eyes narrowed. "Come now, Potter, don't feign ignorance. If your life has not turned out the way you expected, then the answer is simple. Change it."
Harry contemplated the remaining liquid in his glass before downing it. He took Snape's empty goblet and put them out of the way on the floor. "They'll hate me for it."
"Yes, they will," Snape replied.
"I'll be an outcast," Harry said, shoulders straightening.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Snape mocked, and Harry chuckled. "Time passes, Potter, and eventually they will forget. And forgive."
"Why did you come back after all this time, Snape?" Harry asked, turning his body so that Snape was the only thing he could see.
"Perhaps," Snape said, swallowing to clear his hoarse voice, "I became sick of running. Perhaps I decided to be myself, and society be damned."
Snape could see a muscle in Harry's jaw twitch as he clenched it. "You'd have to be really brave to do that."
"And are you not brave, young Gryffindor?" Snape whispered, lowering his head.
"I thought I was," Harry whispered back. "I want to be."
"Then take that final step. Did you defeat the Dark Lord only to remain defeated yourself?"
Harry stepped back abruptly. He turned and searched the crowd. His friends hadn't moved from their location and Snape saw his fiancé raising her eyebrows at them, no doubt wondering what Harry could possibly have to say to their former teacher.
Harry loosened his tie. His hand reached back and fumbled until it found Snape's. His grip was tight and sweaty. "I want to be brave. I do."
Snape tugged at him until they were facing. "This is not something I can do for you. There are no more lessons that I can teach."
Harry took Snape's other hand and looked down upon them; palms touching, fingers entwined. "Will you come with me?"
Snape pulled him closer. "Why do you think I came back?"
Harry leant in and kissed Snape.
They disapparated with their eyes closed.
Story Notes:
Written for aliciamasters, just 'cause she's so lovely. She requested…"Snarry, five years after the defeat of Voldemort, meeting for the first time since Snape's trial."
