XXI.

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Chapter XXI: Breaking Up Is Hard to Do
WARNING: Strong language, angst, and brief sexual content

The day started off like all the other days. He had gotten out of bed, dressed and went down for breakfast. He ate his breakfast in silence occosionally looking over at his two best friends as they did there usual early morning quarrel.

He flipped through the Daily Prophet rolling his eyes at another one of Rita Skeeter's publications. Harry wasn't one to care about what she wrote, frankly he didn't care about her either, but it wasn't just about him anymore, Snape was now in the picture and even though he was still very much upset, protecting the man was his main goal. He could vividly hear Snape telling him that he didn't need to be protected. Harry shot up from his seat, the Great Hall going quiet as he stood up. He took off in a run and rushed into Snape's classroom breathing hard, as soon as the bell rang signaling the end of breakfast, he made a bee line for the door and rushed down the stairs to see his man and although he was still very upset with him, he needed to make sure that his professor was alright. He shoved the door open stopping abruptly as twenty pairs of eyes stared back at him. Harry forgot that on Firday mornings Snape's fifth, sixth and seventh year students had classes before breakfast. "Sorry sir," Harry says shifting from foot to foot.

"Class dismissed," said the potions professor, "we'll resume on Monday."

Harry watched as the seventh year students rushed out the door, afraid that Snape would change his mind and make them finish their potions. A few students waved good bye and clapped him on the shoulder as they exit the classroom. "What are you doing here?"

Harry doesn't say anything but waited patiently for his boyfriend to speak again, but the man remained silent, they stood their for what felt like a lifetime, but in a soft voice the potions professor speaks and says, "You stare at me long enough and you'll burn holes in my back." He was sitting at his desk now, legs crossed and a pile of parchment laid stacked in front of him. "Still mad I take it?"

"Oh, very much so..." He doesn't hesitate to say to the older man. What he had done was unspeakable, but not entirely his fault.

"Oh... umm. Then why are you here?" He asked. "You can't make me feel like a worse piece of shit than I already do, so if you've come to fight, you can see yourself out."

"You lied to me Severus and I know you think you had to but you lied nonetheless."

Snape sighed dropping his quill. He stared dark and hard at his boyfriend eventually saying, "Mr. Weasley-Malfoy, normally I would love nothing more than to argue my side, but my patience is thinner than usual, so get to the point."

"The rumors..."

He scoffed. "I'm well aware of what people are saying." Said Snape nonchalantly. He didn't care.

"Well..."

"Well nothing. It's not really anyone's business who I sleep with is it?"

Harry shook his head unable to find the right words. He moves closer to the man's desk resting his chest and arms down. "I've been called a fag, faggot, a puffter, a faerie and a lot of other things. Nothing surprises me."
"But this is because of me." Harry tried to say, but Snape just laughed.

"Don't flatter yourself. I've been called a shirtlifter all my life, it has nothing to do with you.

Harry stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. How could the man just sit there and be cool about everything? "Doesn't mean its something you get used to."

Snape didn't say anything but continued to work at his desk. He didn't have time for people who only wanted to waste his time and energy. He's been called every bad word under the sun, and he was old enough now to know Rita Skeeter's games. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

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