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"Please, come," Harry had said, caressing his lover's temple. Severus hadn't answered, only caught Harry's hand with his and pressed his lips to the knuckles, eye contact uninterrupted. It had sent a shiver down Harry's body, but he had to go.
It was several days ago, and now Harry was seated at the staff table, watching the Yule Ball opening. With no Triwizard Tournament and no champions, the couples to open the ball were the Headmistress with Deputy Headmistress at her arm and Head Boy and Girl with their partners.
Harry was glad to be on the other side this time, the ballroom's eyes fixed on the dancing couples and not on him. The Headmistress was gliding across the dance floor graciously, despite her age, and her partner followed suit; their dance kept Harry's attention but he still noticed that the student couples seemed to enjoy themselves. Half of the song later, one of the professors got up, extending his hand to his table neighbour, which sent a signal to people all around the hall to join in.
Harry became aware of Parvati next to him, turned to her and smiled. "Should I ask you for a dance?"
"If you're going to stare around, like you did the last time, then no." She said it without rancor, but Harry still felt a pang of guilt.
"I would promise I'd look only at you this time, but..." He cast a glance around the room.
"You're waiting for him," she finished. "Don't worry, he'll come."
"Did the tea leaves tell you that?" Harry couldn't help but tease her. She lightly slapped him on his hand in lieu of response.
"You know," she said, propping her chin with her hand, "half of me still can't believe it - you and Snape, of all people!"
"And the other half?"
"The other half says you have always been meant for each other."
Harry laughed, suddenly embarrassed. Coming from someone who specialised in Divination, these words had more weight to them than he could easily accept.
"Well, I suppose I'll ask Evelyn for a dance, then," Parvati said and stood up; Harry mirrored her. "Enjoy the evening."
Harry slowly went around the Great Hall, his eyes darting back and forth; he somehow knew Severus wasn't there yet, and still couldn't help but search for him. By now, the dance floor was full of couples, swaying and spinning. He caught a flicker of purple hair on the other side of the room. His Godson. Harry couldn't see Teddy's partner at this distance, but her light-blue dress reminded him of Hermione, and he smiled fondly. Whoever was the girl, Harry was hoping she did want to dance with Teddy and not some other guy who'd been too slow to notice her.
In his round, Harry reached the doors and went outside, to the garden. It was nowhere as vast and intricate as the one that had been prepared during the Triwizard Tournament, and yet Harry found it charming with all the rose bushes and twinkling fairy lights.
"Thought you'd slip away early, Potter?" said low velvety voice behind his back. Harry spinned around. Severus stood there in his black dress robes, not too dissimilar from the ones he used to wear in his time at Hogwarts but strikingly different from his nowaday casual style. One thing remained though, the high collar. It was concealing what only Harry was allowed to see.
"You came," Harry said after a long pause.
"I still don't understand why you've been so insistent that I come," Severus growled. "You aren't fond of dancing, nor do you enjoy social gatherings, and you're perfectly aware I enjoy them even less."
"Maybe I needed you to help me endure the suffering."
"You made it clear that you wanted me to be prepared to dance."
Harry found himself suddenly interested in a nearby bush.
"Harry."
"Fine, if you want to know..." Harry glanced at Severus, met his impossibly black eyes. "I wanted a closure, so to say. My first Yule Ball was a disaster. I wanted to dance with someone I actually liked."
When Severus didn't say anything, Harry raised his hand and traced his fingers along Severus's hairline, behind the ear, finally stopping at the nape of the neck. "You're beautiful," he whispered.
"Have you been indulging in Firewhiskey?" Severus raised his eyebrow, but infinitesimally leaned into the touch.
"You know I haven't. I've got responsibilities."
The truth was, Severus looked better than ever, and it wasn't only because Harry's perspective drastically shifted. Without constant danger and pressure of being a double agent, without hours in the dungeons, hunched over the students assignments, he was far more attractive than fifteen years ago. The problem was, he had a hard time believing it.
Harry wanted to wrap Severus in his arms, to kiss him senseless, to shout to the whole world how much he loved him. But they were in the school, and he saw scepticism in Severus's eyes, so he said, "We don't have to dance if you don't want to."
"I have never danced with anyone I actually liked, either," Severus replied. He took Harry's hand, interlacing their fingers, and led him towards the dance floor. Once inside, Severus stiffened, and his face expression was blank when he turned to Harry, but his hand on Harry's waist was gentle.
The band had just started a romantic tune, and Harry smiled. "Let's dance, then."
They circled the room slowly, and Harry wished to say it was pure happiness, but it wasn't - he was too acutely aware of how uncomfortable Severus felt in the crowd, his scars, unseen, burning under people's gazes.
Years of hatred, guilt, bitterness still outnumbered years of care and love.
One day, Harry hoped, it would change.