The Book of Love
By: Elise Jacobs
Disclaimer: I don't own anything and am not getting anything out of this except the sick twisted pleasure of making Rowling's characters do things that she never wanted them doing.
Summary: Non-Magic AU. HP/SS Two lovers live an average life full of joy, love, happiness, arguments, grief, and strife…but everything good must come to an end. Will these two lovers be able to have the fairytale ending that everyone dreams of?
Warning: This is slash…so if you don't like it DON'T READ IT!
Chapter One
"Ginny is Always Right!"
Friday, March 26th
"Have a good day at work, Love."
Severus looked out the window and replied simply, "I'll try."
I watched quietly as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. Teens were everywhere running around talking to their friends who were all dressed in uniforms of navy blue. My dear, tired, ageing professor dressed in his black suit quickly walked around to the other side of the car to where I sat holding the button to let down my window. He leaned into it and whispered into my ear. "Please mum…the dog ate my homework and Mrs. Weisenski wants me to see me dead."
"Pfft! Oh Sev. What would you like me to do? Write you a note?"
"No. But, I do want a kiss." He said quirking his lips in to a small half smile.
Obligingly, I placed a quick peck on his lips and pushed him out of the window. "Get! You have bacon to bring home Prof. Snape"
"Yes, yes and don't you need to be somewhere, like, I don't know, your studio trying to sell those monstrosities that you spend hours on? Really you spend the whole day in your studio just making doodles and finger painting."
"It's called ART! And I'll have you know that I spent a whole semester on finger painting."
"Yeah, in Kindergarten. I'll be done with afternoon rehearsal at six thirty. I'll walk home. Will you have dinner prepared?"
"Of course, it's lasagna night!"
"Alright."
As my love pushed his way through the students I yelled out the window to him, "Say hello to Sean for me!"
Sev turned around without missing a step. Laughing, he yelled back, "you got it!"
Closing the window I watched as the man I loved walked further away from my car and into the building where we had met seven years ago. Hogwarts Academy for the Fine Arts was the best fine arts school in the area, and for six of the seven years I spent in attendance, I never even knew that the surly baritone existed. I had had him for music appreciation my final year which I had just barely passed, lord knows that I could never have made it in the music halls of Hogwarts. Like me, Severus had spent the better part of his youth in her halls studying the fine arts, and now he spent his days working with the advanced vocalists trying to prepare them for the future that he had always wanted but would never have. Sev had been the top of his class but some how never managed to leave those familiar halls. Those who can't, teach. I guess that was why he seemed to live with a chip on his shoulder. Year after year he watched as his students all excelled and went on to have careers as professionals while he spent his life slaving away for Dumbledore while desperately trying to get his music out there for someone to hear. The life of a singer songwriter was a hard one, especially when that singer song writer was pushing forty. I guess that was why he was always just a little cold.
I drove off towards my studio. It was only five blocks away from the school, but I had my own parking lot in the back, and the car was less likely to get vandalized by rowdy teenagers who were angry about a low grade in music appreciation behind my store. My studio was a nice little shop. Perfect really. It was tucked away on a little corner just off the main street. It had five rooms. One was a storage room where kept my supplies and packing materials. The second was a little office where I paid the bills and talked to customers who wanted work done. The third was a small bathroom complete with shower and changing stall. I can't begin to tell you how many times I found myself in there because I had gotten a little too caught up in my work. Fourth was the Exhibition room where all of my work that was for sale was on display. It was large and it was tall. Since my shop was on the corner it had the moat amazing lighting, two story windows flooded the room with plenty of natural light no matter what time of day it was. And fifth room was my loft. It was my favorite. A wrought iron spiral staircase in the exhibition room led up to the second floor landing was where I kept my personal collection and did all of my work it even had a bed and a dresser full of some of my more lived in work clothes. As most rooms had pieces on display my entire studio was painted white, as not to distract the viewer from the product. After all, this shop was a business and bills had to be paid. If white walls made the Art jump out just enough to make the sale then they were worth it. The old, battered, paint splattered, hard wood floors only helped to add character to the old shop. I loved this place it had been my first real investment. I took all the money I had left from a parent's estate and poured it into this place after graduation. I had even lived here for the first year and a half after I moved out of my Aunt's house. That was before I had moved in with Severus though.
The day was just like any other day. I came in looked over what commissioned work I had to do, looked over the appointment book to see if anyone was on the schedule to come in for a Portrait sitting, and then decided whether or not I had time to call for a model. Today I was lucky. No one was coming in and I only had a few things to do to finish the paintings I was doing for Mrs. Thaddeus Archibald Jones IV, a local mother of three. I had about six other commissioned pieces that I needed to get to, but hers were the only ones of any real importance right now. 2 months is my standard delivery time but most projects that the mothers of the town had for me only took about 6-8 hours of studio time to complete. Simple really, these upper middle class home makers come in hand me a photograph of their child and ask me to copy it. Of course I ask what median and size, but in reality it is the simplest thing a customer can ask me to do. As I get paid by the piece and not by the hour I have the privilege of taking my sweet time. If I wanted to take a day to work on my own work, I could. Even if was a great at portraits, I was still an artist and I had my own interests that I wanted to work on. Portraits pay the bills but they weren't art! So, making a quick decision, I picked up the phone and made a call to a good friend.
"Hello?"
"Hey Gin, are you doing anything today?"
"Actually no, what can I do for you?"
"Well, I was hoping you wouldn't mind bringing your cello and little Hannah to come see me?"
"What do you want with me, my daughter, and my Cello, if I may ask?"
"Nothing too terrible. I just want you to come over and help me with an animal sacrifice."
"Hehehe…No really what do you want."
"I just want to paint you. You see, I have this friend, who wrote a short story that he swore I just had to read, so he took me and Sev to lunch at this new restaurant downtown that served really good wraps, but the place was playing this god awful elevator music. After about thirty minutes of Kenny G. some classical stuff clicked on and the first song that came on was The Swan, which made me think of your senior recital and how beautiful you looked your pant suit with your hair all pulled up and your legs spread apart lovingly cradling your Cello, and what can I say. I was inspired. So will you my dear, dear friend please bring your instrument and your lovely little girl to my humble studio and play for me, so that I have a chance of one day possibly being able to sell a piece with a subject of my own choosing instead of this god forsaken spoiled children who will never appreciate a the skill and technique that was involved in the creation of the painting of them and their siblings that their mother purchased for spot above the sofa in the living room of their suburban upper middle class home."
Laughing, Ginny agreed, "Of course silly. I'll come over right now."
I walked about getting the loft ready. I moved a bright red chair from the corner of the room to the raised platform I had for model display in the middle of the room and draped it in a dark green coverlet. I pulled out my drawing board, paper, and several different kinds of utensils varying from charcoal sticks and pencils, to crayons and oil pastels. When I heard the bell ring and a baby squealing I quickly set down my things and hurried down the steps to help my ginger friend with her load.
"Come on Gin, you could have left the case in the car and I would have got it for you." I quickly took the large instrument case and placed it against the wall.
The red head, who was now able to tend to her daughter's cries which were quickly silenced with the prompt placement of a pacifier, smiled at me, "really, how do you think I handle it normally? Hannah can scream all she wants. It can wait the whole two minutes between the car and house. Honestly, what do you think I learned in school? How to spell? HA! All I learned was how to carry a whole lot of stuff with out hurting myself. So where do you want me?"
Of course, she was right. Ginny always was right. "Upstairs, we'll start with a few sketches and then we'll see if Hannah can tolerate a painting."
She set up as if it were just normal practice, as I quickly ran around looking for different angles and views. Finally, choosing a spot I sat down on the floor and began to sketch as she rosined her bow and began to play a tuning exercise. The lines just seemed to flow on to the page just as the different tones seemed to flow from the person in front of me. She began to play several different tunes which she knew from heart. She became lost in it, letting her hair fall it to her face, closing her eyes and just letting the music flow. It was why I loved drawing musicians. When they played they became as lost in their work, as I did. They were oblivious to everything but the love of their art. It was a passion that we all shared. I loved the way light and shadow played on Ginny's form, the way it made her hair translucent, and the way it curled around her lips to capture the almost nonexistent smile that was frozen on her face. I wanted to capture it all. The charcoal got everywhere as I blew on the drawing trying to free it from all excess dust. Ginny stopped and laughed as I realized that I had blown dust all over her.
"Well, I guess that you must not have liked that one." Her eyes glittered as she smiled at me. And it sent a pang through my heart.
"I haven't seen a smile like that in years."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Sev, he used to smile like that at me, but not anymore. He is just so caught up with his work. He's always at that damn piano of his banging out melodies, working with some kids from the school, or grading papers. I just don't know. He doesn't smile anymore. At least, not like is used to."
Ginny gently grabbed her bow with her left fingers never letting her hand leave the neck of her cello, as she shifted in her seat to get a better look at me. "I thought you two had the perfect life."
"No far from it. Recently he has been quieter then normal; he is more distant and reserved. He still jokes around and is his sarcastic self but it seems as if it's forced."
"Well you all do that." She laughed as she began to play again.
"What?"
"Become distant and then try to hide it. Men that is, you all seem to go through phases, it doesn't mean anything. Believe me, I have six older brothers, and have a husband who is just like your Severus!"
Listening to what she had to say, I got up and started to look for a new angle, "How is Blaise anyway?"
"We aren't talking about him," quickly turning the topic back over to me, "how long have you two been together now?"
Finding the right spot I quickly sat down and began to sketch again, "Depends, from when we started dating? Or from when we officially called it a relationship? From, when we first slept together? Or from when we moved in together and stated splitting the bills?"
"I guess the last one, because I guess that would be the closest third you two have as a wedding anniversary."
"It will be five years on the 10th of April."
"Harry!?"
"What?" I responded angrily balling up the paper. Of course Ginny just had to get up to look at me straight on. Now I would have to find a new angle.
"Congratulations!"
"For what?"
"Five years? That is a big one," She set down her cello and ran over to sit next to me on the floor. "What is that one….wood? You'll probably get a new easel! No wonder he has been distant, he is probably trying to figure out something really romantic for you two, have you been planning anything? I mean that's in about two weeks. Right? "
I smiled at her, "Well, I don't know about him but I have been planning a surprise for him for about six months. Severus once told me that he wanted to go to New York City and to see the Les Miserables on Broadway. It combines two of his greatest loves, music and Les Miserables, he has loved that book ever since he read it when he was fourteen. "
"But that show closed a few years back, didn't it?"
"Yes, it did. But they have re-opened it. So, I want to take him for our five year anniversary."
"That is so sweet."
"But here is the best part, our anniversary falls on a Saturday this year and Monday is a school holiday. So, I've booked a flight for us to leave on Friday evening for New York and return on Monday. I even arranged for a privet box for the show and everything. I can't wait to surprise him."
"That will definitely make him smile again. Isn't that really expensive? How are you going to get him to agree to it?"
"Simple, I just told him that that weekend was my weekend and for him not to plan anything at all. He has been given the strict orders that he is to arrange for no rehearsals to take place for that afternoon and to not even think about arranging anything with his friends. And as for the price, well all I have to do is sell more three paintings and the trip will have been paid for! Come on, enough talk, we have work to do."
I finished three more sketches of Ginny playing when Hannah began to fuss. She quickly set down the instrument and began the task of hushing the small six-month-old. As she cradled the babe to her shoulder I grabbed up a pencil and began to sketch. Once again I felt truly inspired. Nothing was more beautiful then a mother with her child. The connection between them was something that when captured on paper could make your heart stop. When done correctly, a painting of a parent and child could send you back to your childhood and back to your own mother's arms. How I wished that I had more memories of my own mother. And oh how I wished that I too would one day hold a child of my own in my arms. After the squawking child began to fall in to a gentle sleep I realized that I might never have that. I had Sev and that meant I would never have a child of my own, but at the very least I had him. Even if he had been distant as of late, he was my family now. As Ginny put her daughter into her carrier, and began to put up her cello, I carried all the sketches down the spiral staircase and in to the office. I quickly divided them so that they wouldn't be damaged and placed them into the shelving units that covered the far wall. A playful knock on the door signaled the young mother's entrance.
"So, Mr. Potter, what are you up to now?"
"Well, I think I'm going to work on my hands."
"Your hands?"
"Well not my hands, Sev's hands. on rainy days I like to sit and watch him play the piano as he picks at his tunes. It was one of the things that made me fall in love with him actually, his music. He has been getting so discouraged lately. It's almost as if he has giving up on ever getting recorded. He is just so talented. It's a shame that he is losing hope. I am happy that he is starting to love his job though. Ever since he got the advanced choir he has been so enthusiastic. When we do talk it is always about his students, especially one of his Baritone boys. It is always Sean this and Sean that. Sometimes I think it is Sean he is the relationship with and not me…hehe."
As I pulled out the half painted canvas from its shelf Ginny gasped, "Oh Harry, it's beautiful. How did you do that?"
The painting wasn't even close to being finished; I had only finished painting the keys and his left pinky and ring finger. "It still needs a lot of work. But I have great hopes for it."
"I would give anything to be able to paint like you do."
"Well I guess we're even because I would give anything just to be able to carry a tune in any way shape or form." I smiled and started to sing "I will Survive" only to have Ginny throw her hands over her ears and yell at me.
"Oh Harry, please don't give me a demonstration, all of Hogwarts knew of your legendary tone deft vocal stylings. I don't need to know if what my brother told me about your daily shower performances is true. I'd like to think that everyone can carry the tune of hot cross buns, please don't ruin it for me."
I laughed and walked back upstairs carrying the box of supplies to where my easel was set up.
"Please don't worry about Sev. I'm sure he is just trying to plan something for your anniversary and is worried about it. Call me this weekend and we'll do lunch."
"Will do, bye Ginny," with a quick kiss to her cheek I watched as she took Hannah and left. She was probably right. Ginny was always right.
Author's note: Reviews are appreciated. Flames are not. Next chapter you can look forward to seeing more Harry Sev interaction! Hope you enjoyed it! Tune in next week for more stories from "THE BOOK OF LOVE"