Chapter 3

Severus woke to the realization that he was comfortable. For several seconds, he lay perfectly still and attempted to determine whether he had died and been consigned to some particularly tasteful purgatory. Then he finally realized in whose bed he was. He grumbled but didn't immediately move to get out of bed. The mattress beneath him was soft, and the sheets were cool against his skin. There was no dungeon chill, only quiet and the ache of a body that had been thoroughly, expertly, and repeatedly reminded it was alive.

Finally, Severus opened one eye. Sunlight filtered through the curtains across the room.

The bedroom door opened, and Harry Potter entered carrying a breakfast tray. Harry was barefoot and dressed in soft black trousers and a loose white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair was even more disastrous than it had been the night before, which Severus would not have thought possible. Severus then closed his eyes again and muttered, "No."

"Good morning to you too." Harry paused.

"I refuse." The Potion master grumbled into the pillow.

"To eat breakfast?"

"To participate in whatever appalling domestic tableau this is."

Harry's laugh was warm and far too near. "You haven't even seen the tray yet."

Severus opened both eyes as Harry smiled and crossed the room with the tray, which he set across Severus's lap before the other could object. On it was coffee, toast, eggs, fruit, a small pot of jam, a silver dish of butter, and a vial of pale blue potion.

Severus eyed the vial while Harry looked insufferably pleased with himself. "For soreness," he added.

"I am capable of brewing my own recovery draughts."

"Undoubtedly. This one came from your own published formula." Severus went still while Harry's mouth twitched.

Severus picked up the vial and sniffed it. Perfectly brewed, annoyingly so. He swallowed it in one sharp motion, then set the empty vial down. "Adequate," the Potion master muttered.

"High praise, coming from you." Harry's smile widened.

Then Harry took a seat on the edge of the bed, near enough that the mattress dipped under his weight. Severus noticed the movement. He also noticed that Harry noticed him noticing. Neither of them said anything for a moment. It was ridiculous, really. Severus had spent the previous night allowing this man liberties that would have earned anyone else a curse and possibly a memorial plaque.

Harry reached for the coffee and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed as Severus took it. A faint, treacherous heat curled in Severus's stomach.

Severus was not accustomed to being looked at as if he were wanted after the wanting had been satisfied. It made him distinctly uncomfortable. "Stop staring," Severus hissed.

"I'm just enjoying the view."

"You have windows." Severus shot back.

"They lack sarcasm." Harry retorted. "And pretty little moans," he added, which caused Severus to blush.

"I can open one and throw you through it, if you require variety," the Potion master muttered.

Harry laughed softly at that, but the amusement settled into something more serious. He rested one hand on the edge of the tray. "Stay for the weekend," he then proposed, and Severus's fingers tightened around his coffee cup.

"No, I have essays to mark."

"On a Saturday?"

"Idiocy does not observe weekends. Merlin knows they should." Severus retorted.

"I am asking you to stay because I enjoyed your company before I touched you, and I enjoyed your company after, and I suspect I'll enjoy it again over dinner," Harry admitted.

The room went very still at his confession. Severus frowned because no one really enjoyed his company. "And if I decline?" he asked.

"Your clothes are cleaned and pressed. The Floo is open, or I can Apparate you back myself."

"You would simply let me leave?" Harry nodded. "No wounded masculine pride?"

"I would sulk privately." Harry's mouth curved faintly.

"How mature."

"I've had practice." Severus looked at him for a long moment. Then he picked up a slice of toast.

"I will stay until tomorrow evening," The Potion master said. "If, at any point, you become unbearable, I reserve the right to vanish without apology."

Harry's smile broke slowly across his face. "Agreed."

"And my wand?" Severus asked. It was astonishing really that he only just now remembered.

"On the bedside table." Severus glanced over. His wand was there, placed beside his cufflinks.

Afterwards, they ate in a strange sort of peace. Harry stole a piece of toast from the tray. While munching on it, Severus reflected that it was probably the most absurd morning he had spent in years, not counting the morning he woke up after an end-of-the-school-year teachers' party. He remembered that he had to help Fillius extricate Tom Riddle, DADA teacher extraordinaire, from the ceiling after he had glued himself to it.

Harry's expression changed when he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. The softness did not vanish, exactly, but Harry's eyes got a bit colder. "Damn, I have an investor call," He murmured.

"At this hour?"

"Time difference." He elaborated while running a hand through his hair. "It's afternoon in Singapore right now. I tried to move it, but apparently goblins, shipping magnates, and international venture partners all become delicate if ignored."

"A tragedy. Shall I send condolences to their vaults?"

Harry smiled, distracted. "It shouldn't take long, really."

"Do take your time. I shall endeavour not to expire from abandonment." Severus deadpanned. Harry came closer and then hesitated. Severus noticed the hesitation. It was oddly endearing. Potter, who had stripped him bare the night before, was now uncertain whether a morning kiss would be welcome.

Severus should have made him suffer. Instead, he sighed. "Get on with it."

"With the call or the kiss?" Harry's smile turned wicked.

"Do not fish for permission like a schoolboy." Severus scowled. Harry finally leaned in and kissed him. It was slower than the night before, brief, but not casual. His hand cupped Severus's jaw for the span of it. When Harry pulled back, Severus was grateful for his occlumancy.

"It should only take an hour. Maybe two at most. Two and a half, if Bernard decides to be difficult again." Harry muttered.

"Bernard?"

"My Executive Assistant. He can be a bit... intense at times, but he does good work. He's also fluent in French, which is a lifesaver since I can't speak a lick of it."

"You can speak different languages?" Severus asked with a raised brow, somewhat impressed.

"Several. Mostly self-taught but business fluent now." Harry stated as he stood up to go to his home office. "I'll join you after." He said. "Make yourself at home. The library, gardens, conservatory, and even the laboratory are all open to you. Tilly can get you anything you need as well."

"Tilly?"

"My house elf." "She is terrifyingly opinionated and has threatened to leave me for a French pastry chef three times this month because I called tea leaf water. She was scandalized as a Brit."

Severus paused, and then his lips twitched. Harry leaned down and stole another kiss. "Eat. Bathe. Explore. I'll find you when I'm finished," he said before he departed the room.

After Severus finished breakfast in silence, he made the necessary attempt to rise. He regretted it immediately. Even with the Numbing potion, their activities last night had been... vigorous, so to speak. Severus hadn't been shagged that well since... well, never.

The Potion master gripped the bedpost and hissed through his teeth. "Insufferable, overenthusiastic menace." Then a small pop sounded near the wardrobe. Severus spun, having quickly grabbed his wand from the nightstand. His brows rose when he saw a house elf standing there.

She had enormous ears, bright brown eyes, and a crisp tea-towel dress embroidered with small lilies.

"Oh," she said. "Tilly is being noticed."

Severus stared at her. Tilly stared back. "Tilly," he said slowly.

"Yes, sir." She dipped into a little curtsy. "Tilly is Master Harry's house elf. Will Master's guest be needing assistance?"

"Were you spying?" Severus questioned now.

"Tilly prefers the word observing, sir." She said. "Master Harry is happier this morning. Tilly approves."

"Master Harry never brings guests here."

Severus paused upon hearing that. "Never?" he asked.

"Never ever." Tilly shook her head so vigorously her ears flapped. "Hotels, yes. Other properties, yes. Fancy flats with bad curtains, yes, Tilly helps tidy those up. But not here. This is home. Master Harry does not bring shiny people home."

"Shiny people?"

"Too much glitter. Not enough brain." Tilly waved her tiny arms. Despite himself, Severus's mouth twitched.

"Sir, gets it!" Tilly uttered upon seeing Severus's slight amusement.

"Well, you may call me Severus. You have more sense than the dunderheads in my class."

"Of course. Tilly is no dunderhead. Grandpa Kreacher taught Tilly to be smart," she responded.

Severus straightened, with some protest of his own spine. "I require a bath," he muttered.

Tilly gestured for Severus to follow her through the doors to an adjoining bathroom. The bathing chamber was enormous. At its center sat a sunken bath large enough to drown the school's Board of Governors. Steam curled from the water, and Severus smelled the faint scent of lavender wafting through the air. There were shelves lined with glass bottles, folded towels, oils, salts, and more.

Severus looked at it for a long moment before speaking. "This is excessive."

"Tilly knows," the house elf responded. "Master loves his baths. This isn't even the largest one on the estate."

"Master Harry said Tilly should provide anything guest needs," she uttered. "Tilly will place clothes options out for Sir." Then she popped away.

Severus waited a full twenty seconds before taking off the blanket he had wrapped around himself. He refused to look in the nearby full-length mirror. 'A love bite was merely bruising caused by suction and teeth. That was all,' he mentally told himself. The fact that several had been placed with deliberate artistry was irrelevant.

Severus closed his eyes when he stepped into the bath. For one moment, he did nothing at all. He simply sank until the water reached his shoulders and let the warmth loosen the ache from his body. The bath was deep enough that he could stretch his legs fully.

He had not realized how tired he was. But this was not merely from the night before. It seemed like the exhaustion of a man who had lived too long inside routines that asked nothing of him except competence. Brew, teach, Mark, be sarcastic, sleep, repeat. No one asked him to stay. His students were glad his class was over. Even his colleagues were wary of him at times. He remembered his student days. No one had looked at him as though his presence was not a burden to be endured. His Slytherin classmates had tolerated him because he was a Potions prodigy and got them points. He wasn't a Pureblood, so the Malfoy galas were somewhat awkward, even though Lucius insisted it was nothing. Even his own father hated his guts and was more than happy to take the cash Severus offered him and scurry away when he bought Spinner's End.

Severus opened his eyes abruptly, then he reached for the soap while trying to bury his insecurities. By the time he emerged, his body felt marginally less like it had been introduced to a wall. He dried himself with a soft towel and then tied a black robe around his waist from the stack beside the bath. When he stepped back into the bedroom, Tilly was waiting beside the bed, which had been made with new sheets and all, with two outfits laid across.

"Tilly," he said.

"Yes, sir?"

"Why are there two options?" Severus asked. "I could just wear my teaching robes again.

"Tilly wanted to provide an option," she answered.

Severus looked at the second outfit. It consisted of a dark green poet shirt and tailored black trousers.

"These trousers," Tilly said, "will make sir's ass pop."

There was a silence. It was profound as Severus's brain came to a halt for a few seconds. "I beg your pardon?" he asked slowly.

"Tilly said..."

"I heard you."

"Then why did Sir ask again?" she questioned.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because I had hoped, briefly, that I had suffered a stroke."

"Tilly is only being helpful." She uttered as if Severus were being deliberately obtuse. "Master Harry is an ass man." She continued as Severus just stared. "He likes them. Very much. Tilly has observed."