Chapter Text
Harry was riding Severus' cock when the Patronus came in.
The Jack Russel Terrier bounded into the room and circled around the bed, streaming silver light in its wake. It was usually a welcome sight, but right at this moment, Harry wished the dog would disappear.
"Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday morning," said Ron's voice, "but we have a bit of a situation. Can you come as quick as possible to the Ministry? Both of you."
The Patronus faded into mist. Harry sagged onto Severus with a heavy exhale.
"So much for a quiet day of sweet lovemaking," he groaned.
Then he groaned again, for a very different reason, as Severus had just given a strong, absolutely delicious thrust inside him, knocking right into his prostate.
"You heard Mister Weasley."
"What?"
"Can you come as quick as possible?" Severus said, flashing him a crooked smile.
He wrapped a warm hand around Harry's erection and resumed thrusting.
"Oooh," Harry said, and then he didn't say anything at all. He just moaned and produced garbled noises as Severus proceeded to drown him in pleasure.
A thick cock pounded into him from below, strong, slender fingers stroked his length, and Severus looked at him, dark eyes blown wide, lips curled in the kind of smirk that always set Harry's insides on fire.
As quick as possible. That turned out to be thirty seconds, and Harry cried out roughly, spurting across Severus' chest.
"Good boy," Severus said, the warm praise adding to the giddiness of the orgasm.
"Mmm-mmm, you now."
Severus gripped his hips and hammered home, feet braced against the mattress, using Harry as he chased his own climax. Harry babbled a string of yesyesyes , moaning the words into the crook of Severus' throat, right against the scars left by Nagini. The forceful thrusts made him quake, his teeth clacking. He loved it when Severus was like this.
"Do it," he whispered, licking at Severus' throat. "Fill me up—wanna feel your come in me—Sev—"
And that did it, and Severus emitted the roughest of grunts and came inside him, cock fully hilted in Harry's arse as he spilled himself.
They both relaxed into each other. Harry smiled and sought out Severus' mouth to kiss him, then he was laughing, his chest heaving frankly.
"That was pretty good," he said.
Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Only pretty good?"
"Alright, bloody phenomenal. You know what I meant," Harry said.
He shook his head and ran a hand through his unkempt hair.
"Now we should really get out of bed and go see what's got Ron so worried."
"You first."
"Sev! This could be important! Probably is. Maybe life-threatening. Maybe there's been an outbreak of... I don't know, some magical plague. Or maybe Voldemort's come back to life."
Severus ran a hand down his back. The contact was so pleasant and so soothing Harry instantly wanted to stay in bed forever.
"Those are some very dire hypotheses," Severus commented. "Are you vying for my spot as the pessimist in this relationship?"
"Well, what do you think it is? Ron wouldn't call on both of us for nothing."
"A good thing, perhaps. The return of Merlin, come back to guide us all."
Harry snorted. Over the years, he had come to appreciate Severus' sense of humor.
"I don't think it's gonna be good," he said, voicing his fears. "We've been so happy lately. Something was bound to happen."
"I may have rubbed off on you."
"You definitely rubbed me off," Harry quipped. Then he sobered up. "Anyway we should really get up."
They managed it, in the end.
Cleaned up and dressed, they Apparated to London and took the secret entrance to the Ministry. The telephone box spat them out into the Atrium, which was buzzing with activity. Memos flew over their head, and the vast space echoed with footsteps and hushed conversations as people circulated to and fro. Floos flared to life, swallowing travelers, belching out others.
A young woman wearing an Auror uniform waved at Harry.
"Mister Potter! Mister Snape, hello. I'm here to escort you."
Harry didn't point out they didn't need an escort as both of them perfectly knew the way.
"What is this about?" Severus asked.
The Auror gave him a strange look, lingering, almost calculating. Harry's wand hand twitched. Even four years removed from the war, he remained hyper-aware of threats. That look didn't register as a threat, not exactly, but it was still odd.
"I'm not cleared to say in public, sir," the woman said.
Severus humphed, exchanging a glance with Harry. He had noticed the look as well.
The Auror led them through the crowded Atrium, moving nimbly. There was an urgency to her step, and worry gnawed at Harry's insides. What was waiting for them up there? Whatever it was, people here weren't in the know. They went about their business as usual.
The lift's golden doors closed with a clang. It zoomed up, carrying them level after level, up to the Auror department. Harry heard the din before they arrived.
It was chaos in there.
People were arguing, talking over each other, shouting over each other. There were mostly Aurors around, but Harry did spot some Unspeakables in dark gray robes, which meant they worked in the Death Chamber, where the Veil was.
"It's impossible!" an older Auror was saying, spraying spittle everywhere. "Impossible, plainly! I refuse to accept it!"
"Everything so far suggests—" someone else said.
"He has to be an impostor!"
"He gave his name under Veritaserum."
"Well then it's been tempered with!"
"It came from our own stores. And besides, we've tested it to be sure—"
"The existence of parallel worlds has never been proven so far," one of the Unspeakables was saying, "but this makes for an interesting case..."
"Assuming we can exploit it..." another one replied. "He's been rather unhelpful so far."
Ron's red hair appeared first out of the sea of dark uniforms. He made his way over to Harry and Snape, his face bearing a serious, focused look. Harry found himself scratching at his scar. It didn't hurt. It hadn't hurt since Voldemort's death. Still, his nerves were squirming with uneasiness.
Severus set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. The gesture grounded him. He exhaled, knowing that whatever catastrophe had unfolded, he'd be fine because he'd face it with Sev.
"What's happening?" he asked Ron.
"Quicker to show you," Ron said.
They went down a corridor and into a small interrogation room. Robards was there, but Harry barely spared him a glance. He only had eyes for the person sitting opposite Robards.
It wasn't Voldemort. It wasn't Merlin either.
It was Snape.
Or a Snape, at any rate. He looked older, his dark hair longer, greasier, his face paler, his dark eyes sunken into their sockets above gaunt cheeks. In one word, he looked terrible. Harry knew this was due to exhaustion and stress. Severus had looked like that in the final days of the war and during his trial. Proper sleep and a diet that consisted of more than coffee and potions had done wonders.
This Snape's throat also bore the marks of Nagini's fangs, though they seemed fresher, the flesh redder. He had metallic handcuffs around his wrists. They were heavy, and runic symbols ran the length of them, gleaming softly.
In pure Snape fashion, he was scowling.
"Are you satisfied, Potter?" he hissed.
"I didn't do anything!" was Harry's immediate reply.
"Have you checked for Polyjuice?" asked Severus, in a calm, level voice.
Snape shifted his glare to him, baring crooked teeth.
"Course we have," Robards said. "He's currently under Veritaserum, too. Says his name is Severus Snape."
"How?" Harry said.
"He stepped out of the Veil about half an hour ago. Didn't want to talk at first. We had to use Veritaserum to confirm his identity. Even so, he's been very uncooperative." Robards turned to look at Severus. "We were hoping you could help with that."
"Wait, wait, then why is he in handcuffs?" Harry said.
"He was like this when he arrived," Robards said. "Those are Ministry-issued handcuffs. Someone, from wherever he came from, made the decision to have him cuffed, and I'm not inclined to disagree with that decision for now."
Harry let out a frustrated noise. He had never liked Robards and had been content to have limited contact with the man over the years.
"But it's Snape! If you've checked him for Polyjuice and he says he's Snape, he's alright! Just uncuff him already!"
"You would have made a poor Auror, Potter."
"I concur," said Snape, sounding triumphant.
"Oh, haha," Harry said. "Come on, he's obviously who he says he is."
Robards tilted his head, considering Snape with a shrew gaze.
"He might actually be Severus Snape. That doesn't mean he's innocent, or harmless. Earlier, he admitted he would like to strangle me."
A desire Harry shared.
"No wonder when you're treating him like a criminal," he said. "Look at him! He needs a hot shower and a good night's sleep, not—not this. Not you."
"Harry," Severus said softly. "There are other factors to consider."
He was right, of course. Harry knew it, past the tangle of emotions churning in his chest. But that sight—the sight of Snape in chains, even if it wasn't his Snape—it reached straight to his heart and crushed it in an iron fist. He had fought so hard to stop exactly that from happening. To free Snape.
"Yeah," he said, exhaling deeply.
He could feel Snape looking at him, intently, with enough force to scald the side of his face, and he bristled internally, reigning in the urge to glare back at the man.
"You gotta admit this is strange," Ron said. "Another Snape popping up like that, and out of the Veil. I would have thought a Time-Turner for sure, but the method doesn't line up."
"No Time-Turner on him," Robards said.
Snape leaned back, dropping his manacled wrists into his lap. He eyed them all, upper lip curling to bare his teeth. Harry knew that look on him—frustrated, maddened, a trapped animal wanting to lash back at his captors. Severus had worn that expression on his face once.
"Why are we here?" Severus asked. "Do you expect us to conduct the interrogation in your stead?"
"Partly," Robards said. "I figured he might be more receptive to you, and I wanted to check his reaction to Potter. Now, if you could ask him a question only you know the answer to..."
Severus assessed his other self. The wrinkles around his eyes tightened, his brow furrowing. Snape had tensed up, as if dreading whatever would come out of Severus' mouth.
"That night in 1969. What did she say?"
Snape ground his teeth. He looked like he wouldn't answer for a moment, but the Veritaserum wouldn't allow that. The potion dragged the truth from his lips, every word wrenched from him.
"That Muggles were as capable as wizards, and she had always known it."
Severus nodded.
So this was Snape. Truly. Harry hadn't doubted it, but now the proof was irrefutable.
"Why did you come out of the Veil?" he asked.
Snape's dark eyes pierced him. They shone with a hatred that knocked a raw pang of loss in Harry's heart.
"It's your fault."
"What?"
"That's all we've been able to get out of him," Robards said.
Harry rubbed his face. Veritaserum would force the truth out of a person, but it could be circumvented. If Snape's absolute truth to that question was to blame Harry, then the potion wouldn't make him say anything else, unless he was willing to volunteer more on his own.
"Why is it always my fault..." Harry grumbled.
"Any idea what he's talking about?" said Robards.
"Yes, I'm just keeping everything to myself," Harry said.
Both versions of Severus Snape snorted, then looked at each other. Robards made a contemplative noise at the back of his throat.
"I don't suppose you're feeling more talkative now?" he said to Snape.
"Decidedly not."
Robards sighed.
"What were your intentions in coming here?"
"I was hoping for some fucking peace."
"Who sent you here?"
"It's all Potter's fault."
"Who cuffed you?"
"You did."
"What crimes did you commit?"
"I was born."
Robards paused, perhaps taken aback by the viciousness of the statement.
"Is this really necessary?" Harry said.
"Explain your relationship to Voldemort," Robards went on.
"I served him for two years. Then I turned coat for the Order. I worked for years to bring about the Dark Lord's true, final death. And the plan succeeded."
There was a flash of savage joy in his eyes as the said that last sentence.
"And what's your relationship to Potter?"
That black glaze found him. All light gone. Two pieces of the sheerest, flatest obsidian studying him.
"I would quite like to put my hands around his throat and squeeze."
"Nothing I haven't heard before," Harry said, shrugging. He turned to Severus. "In fact, I think you said that to me just after you woke up from your coma."
"More or less," Severus said.
Snape surged forward. Everyone's wand was out and aimed at him in an instant, but he only slammed his manacles onto the table, so hard it must have hurt him.
"Are we done here?" he snarled. "Have I answered all your little probing questions? Can you throw me back through the Veil already?"
"We're not doing that! That would kill you!"
"That would be vastly preferable to this endless babbling, I assure you."
"We're not doing that," Harry repeated, and he sought out confirmation in Robards' face.
"The Veil is a death sentence," Robards said. "The Ministry has never used it as a method of execution, and we certainly won't start while I'm Head Auror."
Harry exhaled in relief. Snape seemed strangely deflated. He stared ahead for a moment at nothing in particular, then sat back without a word, shoulders hunched, head down.
"I'd like a word with myself," Severus said.
Robards barely hesitated.
"Sure."
Harry exchanged a look with Severus, who smiled at him.
Be kind, Harry wanted to say, but surely Severus knew this. He knew best how to handle himself.
"Come on, Harry," Ron said. "Let's get a coffee. You look like you need one."
"Yeah," Harry said. "Yeah, alright."
He followed his friend out.
*
The door closed.
Severus sat in front of his double. The other him—Snape, Severus decided he'd call him—stared back, hostile and closed off.
"So," Severus said. "Alternate universe."
"Obviously."
"Sorry about the Veritaserum. The Ministry is a pain in the arse no matter the universe."
Snape gave him a probing look. It felt very strange to be looking into his own face, one that didn't mirror his own expressions.
"Your Robards seems to like you, considering he's allowing this."
"That wasn't always the case," Severus said. "He couldn't stand me at first, but I've proven I can be trustworthy."
He had consulted for the Ministry on a few cases, and his work had been thorough and efficient. Nowadays, when Robards needed a finicky potion, he called on Severus.
"How old are you?" Snape asked.
"42. You?"
"40."
"Hmm."
He looked older, but Severus didn't say it. He could be gentle with himself when it was needed.
"Did events proceed the same here?" Snape asked, his curiosity apparent in his tone and in the way he leaned slightly forward. "Is the Dark Lord dead? Was Potter a secret Horcrux?"
"Yes and yes. Did you kill Albus?"
"Yes."
There was a pause.
"What happened?" Severus said, softly.
And he meant so much more, of course. What happened to you? Why are you so exhausted? Why are you in chains? Why are you here?
"Potter."
The name was spat out, packed with bitter resentment. Severus knew exactly how it felt to say it like that, as if it burned his lips on the way out. He had deluded himself for so long—had been blind for so long. Had said Potter's name like a curse for so long.
"Did he also fight for you?" Snape said. "Did he make empty promises, swearing that you wouldn't go to Azkaban? That you wouldn't—"
His voice broke. He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply.
"He did," Severus said. "And he fulfilled those promises."
"So you got the better Potter. Congratulations."
"Your Harry surely fought as hard as he could for you. Once he gets an idea into his head, there's little in the world that can throw him off course."
"My Harry," Snape repeated, sneering. "You know, Potter is not that stupid. He won't be fooled forever. What will you do then?"
"Fooled?"
Snape flashed his teeth.
"He'll notice you're using him. It must be torture to have to fake affection. And the sex... well, I suppose if you close your eyes, a warm mouth on your cock can belong to anyone."
"I'm not using him," Severus said, carefully monitoring Snape's reaction. "I don't know what type of relationship you had with your Harry, but it's clear that—"
"There's no need to lie to me."
"I'm not lying."
They regarded each other in silence. Snape leaned back in his chair with a noise of frustration and lifted his hands to press his palms against his forehead.
"I refuse to answer any more questions until I get some Dreamless Sleep or a solid blow to the temple. Whatever knocks me out the fastest."
"I'll see what I can do," Severus said, and rose to leave.
*
"What did you learn?" Harry asked as soon as Severus appeared.
"His universe appears to be quite similar to ours. The difference seemed to be centered around you, at least from what I could glean from him."
"My fault," Harry said. "What did I do?"
"It's what you failed to do. I think... I think the other you was unable to save him."
"Shit," Harry groaned.
Was there a Harry out there who was missing his Severus? Mourning him?
"Hey, it's not your fault," Ron chimed in. "It wasn't you. You're here, and in this universe, you saved Severus."
"Mister Weasley is correct. There is no point in feeling guilty about the actions of an alternate version of you, Harry. They were entirely out of your control by very definition."
"I know. I know! It's just... He looked so miserable. It's hard seeing you like this, even if it's not you you."
He sighed.
"Do you know what they're planning to do with him?"
"Robards was considering holding him there," Severus said. "I overheard an Unspeakable speaking of studying him."
Something contracted painfully in Harry's chest.
"No. No, he's not—he's not an animal ."
"My thoughts as well. So I offered to take him in."
And Harry relaxed. Instantly. Because of course Severus had found the perfect solution—and of course it was what Harry wanted before he even knew he wanted it.
"Okay," he said.
"Yes?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's—it's perfect."
Severus smiled.
"I'll talk to Robards."
"You sure you can handle two Snapes?" Ron said, shooting him a concerned look.
"If there's someone who can, it's definitely me," Harry said.
Minutes later, Severus came back with Snape in tow. He'd been freed from the cuffs and the sneer on his face had been upgraded to a Category Five—nearly lethal.
"Would you rather stay here?" Harry said.
"I would rather go back through the Veil."
"Well, we're not doing that. You're coming home with us for now."
"Don't you have enough with one of me? Are you that greedy, Potter?"
Harry didn't answer.
They got into the lift, the three of them. It rattled in its descent to the Atrium, the creaks and groans of machinery filling the silence. Harry watched Snape, and Snape watched him back, his hands twitching at his sides. Would he try to strangle Harry now? Severus must have had the same thought because he had positioned himself halfway between Snape and Harry, ready to intervene if necessary.
They got some looks while crossing the Atrium, but people must have assumed one of the two Snapes was Polyjuiced, and no one stopped them to ask any questions.
They reached the Apparition point.
"Where's your wand?" Harry asked Snape, and only realized it was a stupid question after the words were out of his mouth.
"They snapped it in two."
"I'm sorry."
"And I don't care," Snape said.
Severus took care of the Side-Along, grabbing Harry's hand and setting a hand on Snape's shoulder. They materialized down the path to the house. Two stories tall, boasting a dark roof and sun-bleached walls with one side entirely covered by thick honeysuckle, it stood not far from the cliff's edge, the sea spanning on for miles and miles in the background.
"Living together in a cottage," Snape said. "How romantic."
"You better be nice to the house," Harry said. "It's got its own mind, and it took her a while to warm up to Severus."
"What in Merlin's name are you talking about."
"You don't have sentient buildings in your universe? Hogwarts is a prime example. Sometimes it'd slam doors in your face and move stairs just at the wrong time to make you trip. Other times it would open up shortcuts for you and you'd go from Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall in thirty seconds. Our house is the same. It's got a soul."
Snape made no further comment.
"Bringing in a guest," Harry said brightly as they entered. "Be nice to him, would you? He's coming from far away."
The house creaked loudly, as if in greeting.
"Can I let you show him the guest room?" Severus said. "I need to check on a potion."
"Oh so you mean we couldn't have stayed in bed all day? What a shame."
"Alas, duty calls. Or at least my seventh attempt at a Draught of Eight Colors does."
"Fly, my prince," Harry said, blowing Severus a kiss.
Snape emitted a noise of disgust. Harry couldn't care less. He and Severus were affectionate in public, in private, very often, and nothing would change that.
He led Snape upstairs and into the guest room. It was decorated in a palette of grays and blues, with a direct view of the sea, and, in the morning, of the rising sun. There was a double bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a small shelf housing mostly romance novels and crime friction.
"The bathroom's through there," Harry indicated, pointing at an adjacent door. "If you need anything, we'll be downstairs."
Snape had cast a wary look around the room. He picked up the candle on the bedside table and examined it with a frown on his face.
"That's one of mine," Harry said.
Snape's head snapped up.
"You make candles?"
"Yeah. Picked it up as a hobby at first, and now it's turned into a business of sorts. I sell some in Severus's shop, and others by owl. This one was an attempt at a dream-soothing candle, mmh. Not my best, but the scent is nice."
The candle was a pastel blue with glittering silver swirls. It had been used a couple of times already when Ron and Hermione had come over.
"You make candles," Snape repeated, flatly.
"Is that so surprising?"
Snape put the candle down and leveled a stare as flat as his voice at Harry.
"You know this is all a lie, don't you?"
"A lie?"
"The other me doesn't care about you. He's using you. For your fame, for your money, for your name. Are you really too blind to see it?"
Harry sighed.
"You sound like a Daily Prophet article from 1998. And not one of the good ones with clever puns either. Sev does care. He's proven it to me over and over. It was a challenge to get him to admit it in the first place, but once I melted the first layer of the glacier surrounding his heart, the rest yielded easily."
Snape stared, his face frozen in a blank mask.
"I love him," Harry said. "And he loves me. I'm not asking you to understand it, since your relationship with your Harry was apparently very different, but that's how it is here. We've been together for five years, and we're planning on being together for many, many more."
The house groaned at that, a deep vibration that Harry felt through his feet. Snape startled. His arm snapped up in his trademark wand-wielding stance before falling lax again.
"It's alright, you're safe here," Harry said. "I promise."
Snape's teeth bore into his lower lip. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't, turning away instead.
Harry left the room, gently closing the door behind him.