The door to the dungeon gave a sudden loud BOOM, yet even with its volume, Severus could hear in it the shyness of his old friend.
"Come in, Hagrid," he called.
The door swung open and Hagrid shuffled through the door as carefully as he could. Hagrid was always a clumsy, clunky sort of man, until he entered the potions master's office. Then, he was almost more gentle and delicate than Severus himself was. Even with his caution, there was still a small tinkle of one of the any glass bottles wobbling as Hagrid's large body knocked against it.
"Sorry, Professor," he muttered, looking at the ground.
"Please; you needn't apologize. Nothing was broken, and it wasn't intentional." Though he struggled to admit it to himself certainly would never admit it aloud, Severus pitied Hagrid, and it broke his heart to see him so ill at ease with himself. In the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, it seemed that he and Hagrid had experienced something of a reversal of roles. Potter…Harry (he would get used to this change eventually)…had made sure that the truth of his deeds was known, and while he certainly wasn't being showered with the same sickly-sweet admiration as Harry (thank Merlin), he was at least seen as no worse than he'd been before, or even marginally better. Hagrid, on the other hand, was half of a species which had clearly allied itself with the Dark Lord. It had taken him his entire life trying to fight down the stigma of being half-giant, only to have it turned against him at the first opportunity.
Not that anyone was outright shunning him; Hagrid was too good a person for anyone to do so without looking the bad guy (which they would be). But even Severus, who rarely spent his free time outside of his office, had seen the increase in eye-rolls when Hagrid had to try too hard to squeeze into the stands at the Quidditch pitch, had heard the irritation and insincerity that now existed behind each "don't worry, it's fine" when Hagrid knocked something over because its owner had been careless. He had always against his will been the least irritated with Hagrid's presence out of all the staff members, unless you counted Minerva, which Severus didn't, because Minerva would be there whether or not her presence irritated him (he supposed he should be grateful for that, though. Without her persistence, he would not have sought help for himself, and the memories of his past would still be plaguing him).
Unable to bear watching the misery and isolation take root in another innocent soul, Severus found himself inviting Hagrid to tea one day, and before he knew it once became every week and now it was almost nightly. The more he got to know Hagrid, the fonder of him he grew, and Severus was now rather afraid to acknowledge the depths of his feelings for him. After all, it had been a long time since he'd even secretly opened himself this much to another…not since Lily…and he'd never before offered himself in any manner that didn't leave him rejected or as nothing more than a tool to complete another wizard's bidding for some greater good. He had made significant progress with piecing what he could of himself together, but he didn't think he could survive the brokenness that always comes with rejection, and Hagrid was sure to do so. No one had ever really wanted him before, and adding a few extra perspectives changed neither his story nor his desirability, or lack of.
"Sir?"
Severus looked up and reminded himself of where he was and what had brought his mind to this.
"My apologies, Hagrid. You find me a bid distracted at present." He pulled a black, leather-bound book from his shelf, opened it, and in the secret compartment within he pulled a dark green, worn leather tome with slightly peeling gold letters that read Oliver Twist.
"If'n ye'd rather, I can leave," Hagrid offered timidly. "I don' mean teh be a bother teh ye…"
"You're not a bother," Severus promised in a soft voice; in so little time they'd already taught him that his presence was to be tolerated, not desired or sought after. He knew Hagrid would offer a dozen more times but he didn't mind; this was what his friend needed right now. "Are you ready for the next chapter?"
"If'n yeh don' mind."
"I would not have offered otherwise."
Hagrid sat in the large armchair tentatively. "Yeh never did say why ye chose this book," he prompted.
Severus smiled. "Masochistic catharsis," he answered, taking his seat by Hagrid.
Hagrid stared.
"It is rather painful for me, but I find it helps," he explained.
Hagrid blushed, and Severus realized he'd embarrassed his friend. Casting around for another change of subject, he noted, "You never told me why you wanted me to read to you."
"I like yer voice better'n mine," he said simply, gong even redder. I wish I'd been smart enough the read the way ye do."
Severus felt his heart break again.
"Rubeus," he began, and he watched Hagrid look at him curiously. You were unjustly expelled at thirteen, and you were given no chance to finish that education once your name was cleared. You are not stupid, you are uneducated, and it is the school's fault that you were failed by…by people who should not have failed you."
Hagrid was quiet for a moment.
"I know yeh see Dumbledore as failen' yeh," he said.
Severus nodded. Hagrid knew by now all about what he'd suffered at the hands of James and his gang, and there was no need to go into the details of how Albus had ignored and excused the abuse, or the bitterness Severus still felt for him.
"He failed us both," Severus said. "And Headmaster Dippett failed you as well. They were unwilling to listen to a dirty boy from an unhappy home, and they were unwilling to give benefit of doubt or admit fault to a half-…" he stopped, but Hagrid's face changed to a sad, whiskery sort of smile, and Severus knew that what he had stopped himself from saying had been said anyway.
"Even if they'da kept me or let me back in, doubt Idda made much of a wizard."
"I think you'd have been brilliant, given a real chance," Severus said before he could stop himself, "you were a Slytherin, after all."
Hagrid blushed crimson.
Severus was not trying to use his Legillimency. He simply meant to open his book when he felt a sudden, very intense gratitude and attraction that did not belong to him. Loudly and clearly he heard, in Hagrid's voice:
I'd kiss him if I thought he'd let me.
Severus turned and gaped. Hagrid's face hadn't changed from its sad smile, but suddenly the sadness meant something different. Now it wasn't sad that he'd been failed for being different. Now it was sad that he wanted to open his lonely, unloved heart to someone that he knew would never accept him.
Exactly as Severus did.
"Rubeus," he whispered, "do you mean it?"
Rubeus' face became a confused frown.
"Mean what?"
Severus stood and slowly moved until he was in front of his friend. Standing up he was only slightly taller than Rubeus was sitting.
Severus' hands snaked into Rubeus' thick, messy curls. Before he could talk himself out of it, his lips covered Rubeus' briefly. When they broke apart, he whispered, "I will let you." Then, as if he meant to do it all along, he curled up on Rubeus' lap, opening his book to the latest chapter, this time snuggled comfortably in the arms of someone who cared…