Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)

Chapter 11

"I don't know what my father hates most about me: that I'm a wizard or that I'm queer."

They're sitting too close, the bedclothes are all tangled underneath them as they sit, crossed-legged, on top of the bed, their knees pressed against each other. Severus knows how this story ends. He's seen it play out a million times. Tobias could be conciliatory when he wanted. When screaming didn't work, when throwing things didn't work, when striking out with his fist didn't work, he could suddenly turn loving and pitiful and, "Please, Eileen, I promise I won't ever touch the stuff again."

There's a monster inside James Potter, but Severus can't bring himself to care because no one has ever handled him so gently. No one's ever tried as hard as James or held his hand like James. He says over and over that he's trying to be a better man, and he looks so earnest when he repeats those words that Severus wants to believe him. This must be how Eileen felt, why she stayed. He's walking into this trap with his eyes wide open.

I was a little too tall, could've used a few pounds
Tight pants points, hardly renowned
She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes
And points of her own, sittin' way up high

Way up firm and high

Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy
Out in the backseat of my '60 Chevy
Workin' on mysteries without any clues

"I know it's different for you lot," Severus said. He flashed James a bitter smile. A small, pink tongue ran along the bottom of his crooked teeth.

"Yeah," he said. He didn't understand that kind of hate. There was no point to it. No reason at all. Blood status, he could understand. He didn't agree with it, the reasons were unsound, but he was raised on it. But sexuality? What did that matter? "I never knew anyone who cared about that sort of thing before coming to Hogwarts. Met a few Muggleborns who were funny about it. I still don't really get it."

"And you and Black never-?"

"No, he's- I love him like a brother."

The sun had set. He could hear Big Ben strike the hour. Nine times. The sultry heat of the day had turned wet and steaming as a few raindrops splattered across the window. The Severus sitting across from him was the one that belonged to the Night. All in shadows, black eyes staring up at him with a dangerous glow. There were times when Severus Snape scared the shit out of him, when James had pushed too far, and he knew the curse Severus was about to let fly from his mouth would not be found in any of their schoolbooks.

James could feel his heart beating in his chest. He was vibrating with arrested movement, fingers twitching with the urge to touch, to bury themselves in black, silky hair.

Workin' on our night moves
Tryin' to make some front page drive-in news
Workin' on our night moves
In the summertime
In the sweet summertime

Severus freezes when James suddenly lifts his hand, like a rabbit catching sight of a hound. James fingers a lock of his hair, twisting it around a little, gently, very gently, and Severus can't help but lean into it. He can't remember the last time someone had touched him this gently. He is starved for it. For touch, for kind words.

The hand drifts upward, sinking into his hair to scratch lightly at his scalp and Severus is drifting. His head is too heavy to hold up. He leans forward and lips crash. There are teeth and tongues, and the violence of it only belies the soft circles James rubs into his scalp.

We weren't in love, oh no, far from it
We weren't searchin' for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
Livin' by the sword