Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: M
Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness
Disclaimer: Potter and Snape belong to JKR, but Harry and Sev belong to my heart...
Posted on: September 11, 2005
A/N: I sooooooo apologize for taking months to update. RL has been super crazy. I graduated from college last month, so I'm job hunting right now. Plus I'm still working at my other job. Also, my grandfather had become quite ill and is in the hospital, so that meant out of town traveling to see him. Gah, craziness all around! Ok, I'm gonna make this short cause I know y'all would rather read the chapter than this AN. So... here ya go! Read on and enjoy!
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Chapter 2: Challenge
"In the flesh," Severus answered smoothly, taking both helmets and shrinking them so they would stow in a tiny compartment on the bike. Impatient to wait for Harry's lack of witty comeback, he gestured toward the building. "Still raining."
"Oh!" Harry took a few hurried steps to meet the other man's longlegged strides, following him into the building. They climbed a narrow staircase in silence. Uncomfortable silence. Painful silence. At least, for Harry it was. He couldn't say much for his ex-Potions professor, not having seen or spoken to him in almost five years, not since Harry had left the dilapidated school after the war had reached its conclusion.
Here he was, in a foreign city, utterly abandoned by his friend, and he runs into Snape. On a motorcycle. Wearing leather, and looking more healthy and alive than he ever had at Hogwarts. Harry recalled the rumors of the ill-tempered potions master being a vampire. That man and this man were not on the same page. They weren't even in the same book.
Leading the way down the hall, Severus unlocked the door and hospitably ushered Harry inside. Within the safety of the flat, he cast a drying charm on both himself and Harry. Gesturing for Harry to follow, he crossed the short distance to the open kitchen and put a kettle on for tea.
"Thank you," Harry mumbled awkwardly, taking a seat on one of the kitchen barstools. He didn't even know where to begin. What does one say to a person who caused such grief and ire in the past, on so many different levels? Granted, Harry knew he dished it right back at Snape, but their spats always ended with the older man gaining the upper hand, in Harry's eyes. Then again, that was half a decade ago, and Harry liked to think that he had grown up some since then.
"Are you all right, Mister Potter?" Severus asked, silently amused at the younger wizard's contemplative expression.
"Yes, fine," Harry responded automatically with the internal response that had been embedded in him while growing up. He had become quite the expert at lying; lying to protect himself, lying to protect others... He used to wonder if even he knew the truth about himself most days.
But that was a long time ago. Harry knew himself better now. Yet he knew next to nothing about Snape. Unable to stop himself, he asked rather abruptly, "Why did you stop?"
Severus was surprised by the question, if the single raised eyebrow was anything to go by. "You looked like you needed a ride," he answered simply, turning the range off as the kettle began to whistle.
"But how did you even know it was me?" Harry pressed, perplexed. "It's been a long time--years--since we last met."
"Well, Mister Potter, you are one of those people that I would recognize instantly no matter the distance," Severus said imatter-of-factly, setting a mug of tea down in front of Harry, then warming his hands with his own mug.
After a pause Harry replied thoughtfully, "As do you have certain distinct traits that, under any normal circumstances, I would have recognized you as well."
Severus snorted before magicking away his teabag and taking a sip of the strong earl grey, obviously interpreting Harry's comment as an insult.
Seeing this, Harry answered quietly, "I meant it as a compliment." At Severus's disbelieving look, he shrugged and gave a lopsided grin. "What can I say? I'm used to receiving compliments, not giving them out," he joked lamely.
Deep chuckles resonated from Severus's throat at these words. Sitting on the barstool across from Harry, he commented flippantly, "I see that boyhood arrogance is still present."
"I've changed a lot since leaving Hogwarts!" Harry shot out vehemently. "And I've never wanted that attention to begin with!" He glared at the older man, seeing the glinting light in his eyes, then flushed. "But you knew that already," he muttered, quite embarrassed.
"Sorry, couldn't help myself," Severus chuckled again. "You make it so easy. You're quite daft sometimes."
Staring at him, Harry said lightly, "I'm not falling for that."
With a shake of his head and a ghost of a smile, Severus answered, "This time I wasn't kidding."
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Now retired to the sitting room, the two men, each clutching a second mug of tea, were resting comfortably in matching armchairs that faced each other. The drapes on the single portrait window were open; the heavy downpour could be seen beating against the window even in the darkness of the night. Both were staring out at the unrelenting rain, not speaking.
Taking advantage of the distracting weather, Harry took a moment to really study his ex-professor. His first impression from earlier that evening still stood--the man did look more healthy now. Then again, the last time he had seen Snape was after they had both fought for their lives on the blood-soaked battlegrounds. A week after the war's end, Harry had woken up in the Hogwarts infirmary, with Snape lying in the bed opposite his. A week after that, Harry had left Hogwarts. And he hadn't returned since.
That was partly the reason he had been so surprised to run into Snape after all this time--it forced his mind to dredge up past memories that he would rather stay buried.
The other reason was that the idea of Severus Snape on a bike was downright laughable--until now. All too swiftly did unbidden images float into his consciousness, baiting his senses. The image of a dark stranger. Of well-toned legs squeezing the bike's body. Of obviously sculpted abs that Harry could feel even through the thickness of the worn leather jacket. Of the gracefulness in which they practically glided down the narrow streets. Of the long black hair tumbling out from beneath the equally dark helmet. Of those eyes, those same eyes that not even ten years ago would have tried to incinerate Harry with just one glare, those same eyes that were still hard but now held lighter emotions as well. Less death and more life.
Harry couldn't say that the man was classically handsome. Merlin knows he never thought so when he had to endure the man's daily wrathful presence. But there was something there, in that face. Perhaps it was the hooked nose, which had no doubt been painfully broken and clumsily magicked back. Or the aristocratic chin that he tended to jut out when he believed he was right, which was quite often. Or maybe the dark curtain of hair that framed his still too pale face. Snape may not have been the best-looking man around, but there was definitely an unappreciated beauty about him.
A moment later a pair of dark, scrutinizing eyes were upon him. "Are you finished staring, Mister Potter?" he asked lazily.
Harry was unperturbed at being caught intensely studying Snape. He would have been downright insulted had the man not noticed Harry's gaze. "Yes, I am done." For now, anyway, he added silently. Taking a curious sweep of the room, he cocked his head and said loftily, "So you get summers off now?" He knew the potions master was still teaching, as Ron Weasley had mentioned so in one of their frequently exchanged letters. He assumed the man was still a member of the Order, whose assistance had not been needed as often since Voldemort's downfall.
Harry himself had not attended to any Order business in five years. He let the Aurors round up the remaining Death Eaters; he was done with fighting. Well, physically fighting. Arguing, on the other hand, he could do all day.
Severus's eyes followed Harry's gaze around the apartment. "Keeping close ties with Hogwarts was necessary in dire times. Since the threat against it is now seemingly gone, we have all been allowed a rotating summer sabbatical. This season I was granted leave, as were Professors Sprout and Vector." As if sensing that more questions were inevitable, he offered up tidbits of his life without prompting. "You weren't the only one who needed a break from the wizarding world," he said, referring to Harry's six-month hibernation into the Muggle community in Bristol. "I have lived here on weekends and holidays for the past three years. It is not much, but I've never needed much."
That was something the two shared in common. Harry had always known that he and the potions master were on the same wavelength. All right, not always, but for the last year they had worked together, he suspected as much. Oh, they had still loathed each other with a fiery passion, but he surmised that it was because they were so similar. He saw pieces of himself in the man, and he imagined that Snape saw the same traits in Harry as well, even though he was positive Snape would never admit it. Not wanting his obvious contemplation to be misconstrued as rudeness, he said earnestly, "I do like the place. It's cozy. Intimate."
At Harry's latter descriptive, Severus arched an eyebrow but withheld any further comment that would undoubtedly embarrass the younger man. Instead he answered with a pristine, "My soul is now unburdened by the lack of expected vexation upon which you would deem my flat."
Laughing, Harry said mockingly, "Didn't you know? I'm Harry Potter. The sun rises and sets by me. My opinions are worth more than gold."
Harry was quite amazed and somewhat enchanted when the potions master not only failed to issue a verbal barb but proceeded to curl his lips into a semblance of amusement. Of course, Harry was only borrowing the absurd outlook into his character, having been told such dribble some years earlier by the man currently sitting across from him.
"Perhaps I'll do well to remember that in the future," Severus commented, idly drumming his fingers against his teacup. Relaxing back into the soft fabric of the armchair, he allowed the faintest of smiles to be aimed in the younger man's general direction.
"Perhaps you will," Harry echoed. He glanced at the man for a moment longer, wondering if he should keep his questions to himself. But, as often happened with Harry, his curiosity won out over any sense of self-preservation. "How long have you been riding?" he blurted out, quite abruptly and quite loudly. Face flaming with embarrassment, he only shrugged as Snape gave him a calculating smirk.
"Contrary to what you are no doubt thinking, I have been driving since my teenage years. It was a much coveted hobby that I had been forced to relinquish for obvious reasons but had returned to once the... chaos ebbed."
"Actually, sir, I was admiring the way you handled the bike with such ease. I could tell that you were a skilled driver."
With a look of incredulity, Severus said, "Careful, Mister Potter. One may be under the impression that a compliment was given."
"Maybe that's because one was." Harry had no problems admitting such a thing. He was long since past the days where nervous, stuttering compliments were given only to those close to him. No longer was he a bumbling Gryffindor, and such was obvious in the not-so-innocent thoughts he was currently harboring toward his ex-professor.
Having not seen the man in such a lengthy period of time, Harry was hesitant to say that he knew what Snape was thinking. However, he had always been extraordinarily talented at reading certain people, and right now he detected from the man surprise, along with a brief--but albeit ever present--flash of flattery.
Whatever nuances of attraction he felt for Snape increased sharply with that minute show of emotion.
Clearing his throat to alleviate the silence that would no doubt become awkward right quick, Harry said conversationally, "I love riding, even more than flying. And that's saying a lot," he chuckled. While flying was his first love, riding was faster, more dangerous, more exciting. Flying allowed him to be free, while riding connected him to the earth, to the world, to everyone he knew and loved. Plus, the bike belonged to Sirius, which was the only piece of his godfather that he had left. Grimmauld Place had been willed to him as well, but Harry hadn't set foot in that house since the last Order meeting, which had been almost five years ago. He had no intention of ever inhabiting the Black Estate, but he just couldn't bring himself to sell it.
Snapping himself out of his self-pitying reverie, he met Snape's questioning gaze. "I ride Sirius's old motorbike," he supplied, leaving it at that. A look of understanding accompanied the eye twitch that inevitably happened whenever Sirius's name was mentioned in front of the potions master, and Harry mentally thanked Snape for refraining from making any snide comments.
InsteadSeverus picked up another thread of the conversation. "So, you ride as well?" he asked interestedly.
"Oh yes, though obviously I'm not as smooth a rider as you. I've spent nearly all of the last four years zipping back and forth across the country for my job. Of course, I could have just used the Floo network, but I've never quite captured the grace that one needs to exit from a Floo without some type of bodily harm," Harry laughed, setting his half-empty mug of tea on the table next to him. "I prefer riding. I like to go hard and fast."
Arching an eyebrow yet again, Severus repeated with a hint of a leer, "Hard and fast, you say? Does this pertain to all of your... hobbies?" The predatory flash in his eyes went unnoticed by Harry.
"Only the important ones." At his own bold and unintentioned statement, Harry's face flushed heatedly when he realized just what turn the conversation had taken. The older man smirked knowingly at him. However adamantly he wanted to explain his statement, Harry knew any words he offered would only make the situation more embarrassing.
"Well, then." Severus paused, seemingly contemplating his next words. "Show me," he told Harry smoothly.
"Excuse me?" Harry asked in disbelief, jaw dropping. His voice had pitched a bit too much to his liking, and he promptly closed his mouth and settled on a look of confusion.
In one fluid movement, Severus rose from the chair and crossed the room to grab his motorcycle keys, which he tossed to Harry. "The rain has slowed some. Let us go for a drive. Show me your driving skills." He held the younger man's gaze, silently daring him to refuse.
Ever the Gryffindor, Harry was never one to back down from a challenge. Standing up, he said evenly, "Let's go."
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Funny enough, I meant this fic to only be a one-shot. When that didn't happen, I thought I'd wrap it up in a second chapter. Nope, still didn't happen. But I have every intention of there being only one chapter left. Haha, we'll see...
Anyway, thanks for reading and/or reviewing! I appreciate your wonderful comments more than you'll ever know, and I always welcome feedback. I will try my best best best to get the next chapter out sooner than it took me to get this one out. I love you guys to pieces! Until next chapter, then. Peace out!