AN: Please ignore any typos, I'll fix them tomorrow. Pygmy, Tsuri - I haven't posted about the story on any LJ communities, so I don't think it's that well known. But thanks for the nice reviews! I am not an author that blackmails people to leave reviews, so I shall just leave my thanks to you and the others who have dropped me a line. :)
This chapter seems a bit childish perhaps on Snape and Harry's part, but what's the point in going back to Hogwarts if you can't play with people? :)
Ch 10 - A Lesson From Pranking
Harry stood in front of the mirror in the hall, smoothing his robes. The opening feast would start in an hour, and for the first time he was nervous at how he looked. Hands startled him when he felt someone warm against his back. Snape's fingers softly pulled the tie straight, smoothing out Harry's collar.
"You'll be fine. Just remember to glare. And the less we appear to like each other, like before, the less people will bother us."
Entering the hall, Harry moved to sit as far away from Snape as he could. He ended up talking to Hagrid first, before looking annoyed that Minerva had steered Snape to sit beside him. "You have to appear as colleagues to the students. " She hissed.
They all filed in and Harry found the noise much more deafening than before. He watched the sorting hat with interest, fighting laughter from Snape's running commentary through the rings. Finally Minerva stood to make her announcements.
"Welcome back to a brand new year at Hogwarts. This is a new beginning for everyone, and now that the war is over, I want you all to study hard, and have fun this year." Minerva smiled, and waved towards the staff table.
"Please welcome our new Muggle Studies professor, Daniel McRua." There was polite clapping from the students. "And Professor Snape has returned to teach upper year potions, classic literature, and the upper year Defense Against the Dark Arts. He will be teaching with Professor Potter. Professor Potter will take the lower year Defense classes as well." A gasp sounded throughout the hall and the gossip started, only softening a little as the food was served.
Dinner started and a few owls straggled in to deliver late mail and the evening prophet. A letter was dropped for Harry by a strange owl, and he poked at it with his fork. Snape was concentrated on his own dinner, but pointed his wand at the letter and whispered an incantation.
It's safe.
Harry opened it to find an atrociously badly written proposal letter. Ever since it had been announced that Harry would come out of seclusion and teach at Hogwarts, he'd been pestered with at least fifty proposal letters. Snape had found the ones that came in howler form to be most amusing. This one Harry had folded into a paper plane after reading, and was just holding it up when Snape brought his wand up and set fire to it. Harry yelped, dropping the burning plane and drawing attention to them. Snape had a satisfied smirk on his face, which Harry tried to counter with his best glare. Any comments were halted with Minerva's harsh tone.
"Could you not set fire to each other on the very first day?"
…
Harry fought his way through the corridors to the classroom, suddenly understanding why Snape had dressed him in dark robes. He blended in with the students and had already passed most of them by the time they recognized him.
He entered his classroom and stared at the first years. He didn't want to scare the students, but he knew the importance of establishing firm roles. Snape had helped him work on his speech.
"Good morning." Harry said, withdrawing his wand and rolling it between his fingers. "I am here to teach you to think on your feet, to learn to expect the worst, survive the best, and to remain calm when all you can do is fly by the seat of your pants and hope for once that sheer dumb luck is on your side. If any of you think that because Voldemort is gone that you don't need to learn defensive techniques, I am afraid that you are in for a very sore year."
The class stared, and no one said a word. After a minute, one timid hand raised in the back of the class.
"Professor Potter, why do you need to teach us to remain calm?
"Because," Harry started, standing forward and dimming the lights in the room. "when one is facing their mortal enemy, and knows death is merely a spell away, remaining calm is sometimes the only life line you have."
…..
Snape found him later that day, for the last Defense class. It was a sixth year class, and Harry was showing his fatigue at that point. Most of the older students had settled back into the school routine, and Harry was grateful that Snape's glare quieted the class down. These students were accustomed to the stern potions professor, and though the news of Snape's role in the war was wide spread, most were a little wary of him still.
After two hours of having the students do a short test and demonstration to show their skills, Harry let them go without homework. He locked the door and sat back in his chair, closing his eyes.
"How exactly do you do this, every day?" Harry slumped forward and sighed appreciatively when strong hands squeezed his shoulders.
"I suppose you think my charming personality is an inborn trait, as apposed to a cultivated one?"
"Mmh. Never thought about it. When's dinner?"
"In an hour. Come, I believe the flat is quieter than this classroom." The unspoken word of privacy was not needed. Harry nodded, and let Snape leave the room, stalking down the hallway in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry slipped into his office, using the new side door to appear in their little flat's hallway.
He walked into the flat and to the kitchen, pulling out two root beers, and then dropped his notes on his desk. Snape walked in a few minutes later, tossing his own notes and outer robe on the other desk.
The day had not gone too poorly, and Harry knew that after a few weeks he'd be feeling fully confident teaching the classes. He sat on their new chesterfield with his drink, and they spent the hour going over the day and comparing how their classes went, before needing to return to the hall for dinner. It was a habit that was easily formed, and one that Snape found himself enjoying immensely. He'd never had someone to come home to before after work.
Near the end of the week, Snape had finally suggested a demonstrative duel for the upper classes, as it was the best way to show the students how the theory behind curses was as important as the ability to cast them. Harry had once thought that dueling had been only about getting the first shot out, but after practicing with Snape over the summer and finding himself on numerous occasions well-acquainted with the ground, he very much agreed that knowing the patterns and properties of curses was very handy information. He couldn't predict the exact curse coming, but the body stature and power behind them left room for detailed analysis.
Harry agreed to the duel, and they chose to stage it the following Tuesday. Before they were able to do that, however, a quick trip to London would be made with the chance of meeting up with Kevin Krantz once again.
…
"This is Baker Street." Harry proclaimed, folding the map away.
Snape didn't respond, but instead started walking up the street towards the golf course at the other end. After a few moments he stopped in front of one of the row houses, pointing up at the metal placard on the wall. 221b, Baker Street. He opened the gate for Harry, and they both stepped up to the door.
"Never pictured you as one for Sherlock Holmes." Harry muttered, following Snape up the narrow stairs of the house. The museum was small, and set up as if it were the actual house occupied by Holmes and Watson.
"I do love a man with a flair for mystery." Snape replied distractedly, inspecting all the medicinal bottles and ingredients over by Watson's desk.
Harry raised his eyebrow at this, but didn't say a thing. A visit to this museum was on Snape's list of things to do, and they had an hour to kill before needing to be in the area where Krantz would be. He patiently waited for Snape to finish browsing the museum, taking a moment to check out the gift shop. Harry picked up a small collapsible telescope on a whim and bought it, just to have as a surprise one rainy day.
"Ah, I think it's time we take our leave." Snape noted, coming up behind Harry and startling him.
"Alright." Harry smiled. "I've been checking out some of the books; you do have a strange taste in literature. Lots of murder."
They sat in a small café enjoying their lunch, sitting by the window near the railway station. It was quite warm for September, and the breeze was enjoyable, though neither Snape nor Harry were paying too much attention to either the weather or their lunches. Harry stiffened first when he saw Krantz leave the station, walking out into the square with a piece of roll luggage behind him. Snape turned to watch, quickly catching sight of the man.
Krantz looked slightly bronzer than at the beginning of the summer, and he was dressed more casual than he ever had at the conference. He walked with purpose out across the street, and stood next to a phone booth. A second man appeared, dressed in an ill-fitting suit that looked a few years out of style. He had short blond hair, a crooked nose that had been broken once or twice in the past, and pale skin.
Snape tapped his knife on the table. "I have seen that man somewhere before."
Harry stared hard at the features, trying to make sense of them. After a moment he just shook his head, unable to place the person. Krantz looked nervous, yet happy, to be seeing the man, and together they strode off towards the west end of the square.
"I haven't, but that doesn't mean much. I don't always notice people."
"Allow me to refrain from showing my shock at that statement. Wouldn't want to make a scene." Snape turned his lips up in a tiny smile and pulled out money to pay for their lunch.
"Believe me, as a student, it was profoundly annoying how well you remembered things." Harry retorted in mock annoyance. "Come on, Krantz should be at the bank in a few minutes."
Barclay's fortunately did not have many people waiting in queue for a teller, and so Harry and Snape easily strode up to one of the young ladies who had a smile on her face but looked bored out of her mind. Harry handed her the passbook for the Princes' account, asking for a full update. She flashed an open smile at him and set to the task, glancing up to look at Harry quite a few times during the process.
Snape, who had been looking around the bank for Krantz, stepped closer to Harry and kept an arm possessively wrapped around his waist. Harry, oblivious to the flirting of the teller, leaned into his touch. After a minute Snape stiffened and nodded very slightly toward the door, where Krantz and the familiar man entered. Harry accepted the book without checking much of the numbers, merely noting that the Prime Minister had already paid them for this weekend.
Snape coughed loudly, catching the attention of Krantz and a few others around him.
"Let's go, Henry."
Just as he predicted, as soon as they'd turned to walk towards the front doors of the bank, Krantz approached them.
"Simon and Henry!" Krantz jogged up and offered his hand out to shake. Harry took it reluctantly, while Snape just glared.
"How are you, Mr. Krantz?" Harry asked, politely.
"Good, thanks. Came back to England for a little personal visit." He smiled the same easy smile that he bared when he wanted something.
"Fascinating country, isn't it?" Snape asked, sounding slightly bored.
"Yes, yes it is." Krantz replied. Harry shifted and checked his watch.
"Simon, we need to catch Slug & Jiggers before it closes." Harry smiled a fake apology at Krantz, noticing that the man had stiffened at the mention of the apothecary.
"Yes, of course. Mr. Krantz, a pleasure." Snape took Harry's arm and they turned to leave. They were stopped by a business card being thrust towards them.
"My number, should you need to contact me. I'm making progress on that compound we spoke about over the summer. And I assume that any mail sent…the regular way will find itself to you, Mr. Prince?" Krantz was staring hard at Snape, as if trying to analyze his reaction.
Snape narrowed his eyes. "Yes. It will. Good day."
Harry fought a smile as they headed out into the sunshine. Krantz had fallen directly where they wanted him, placed into the position of knowing that Simon and Henry Prince were wizards, and that they knew how to successfully brew complicated potions. The Prime Minister had agreed with Snape that it was a good idea to create the belief that they could be relied upon for help if his current supplier became indisposed. Snape had absolutely no desire to take Krantz down himself, but he didn't mind providing information. It was a fresh change from being tortured while spying for Dumbledore.
It was still early evening yet, and so when Harry suggested dinner at a Chinese restaurant downtown, Snape gave a thoughtful smile and allowed Harry to lead.
…
"You must be mad." Snape pointed his eyebrow and crossed his arms. The Monday staff meeting was almost over, and Snape had almost been cleared to return to the flat, where a movie was waiting for him. Harry sat across the table, playing idly with a quill, looking as if he wasn't paying much attention.
"Severus, I think it is a good idea." Minerva insisted, leveling a Look at him. "For all the students went through last year, it would do to have some form of entertainment here as a break for them."
"It's just a movie, and in the Muggle world it's popular to have drive-ins during the summer to watch the movie." Daniel McRua spoke up, offering an apologetic shrug. "We'll choose a comedy, to lighten up the mood for the students, and hopefully it will help with house unity if they all watch it together."
Flitwick, Sprout, and Vector looked as if they were rather curious as to this movie night. Snape looked right to Harry, daring him to make eye contact.
"Mr. Potter, as you actually died for the cause, why are you not being more vocal regarding this silly social experiment?"
Minerva sighed and rested her head in her hand.
"I'm indifferent, Snape. Though I should actually push for the movie night, seeing how you despise the idea so much."
"Well, we don't need to." McRua sounded unsure, but Flitwick waved him off.
"Ignore them. They have been carefully crafting and cultivating this stalemate over seven years."
"We are having a movie night." Minerva declared. "Friday night, on the quidditch pitch. Daniel, if you need help setting up the screen, Filius can aid you. As for the rest of the staff, we will need chaperones for the movie night. All four heads of houses please, and Severus and Harry. I'm sure that will do."
She looked at them with pursed lips and expression that said, "you will get along or else."
We should probably tell her soon. Harry thought through the ring, feeling guilty.
Ah, I do agree. Perhaps we should buy her some catnip as a peace offering.
Minerva cut the meeting a few minutes after stating that Daniel would be responsible for choosing the film, all the while wondering what she'd said that had caused Harry to start giggling at her.
…
Curses, jinxes, hexes, and random objects flew through the air, bouncing off the containment shield, tearing apart the book cases, smashing a window or two, and uprooting potted plants to fly about as if in a tornado. In the center of it all, Harry and Snape remained oblivious to the damage, intent on continuing their dueling dance. The students were well protected by the shield, and watched in amazement at the duel going on. The movements were natural between the professors, nimble light feet danced as they dodged each other's curses, spinning out of the way of the random hex, and a few times, giving the appearance of knowing the coming curse before it has been fired. It was truly a dance, one that if the students hadn't known any better, they would have sworn came from practice and intimacy.
The duel was interrupted by a rather large bang, the heavy classroom door flying against the wall and catching the attention of all in the room. After all, when Minerva McGonagall was annoyed, even the sounds a duel seemed like faint whispers in the wind.
"STUPEFY!" came the bellow, and as Harry was thrown against Snape he reconsidered his first thought upon seeing the headmistress. Not annoyed. Livid.
She raked her gaze over the students for mere seconds, ensuring they were safe, and then returned her glare to the two men sitting against each other in the midst of pure destruction. "WHAT in the holy hell have you done to destroy this classroom?"
Silence followed as they stared, and then Snape slowly shook his head. The students wondered why the Headmistress had demanded an answer after stupefying their professors, and one had even timidly spoken up.
"Professor, they were teaching us about duels."
More head shaking, and then Snape got to his feet, pulling Harry up with him and patting the latter on his back. Harry coughed out a black feather before standing taller. An exasperated glare followed. "Oh of course. I should have known the Boy-Who-Lived and the Man-Who-Refused-Death could break a bloody stupefy charm. " Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and a few giggles were heard from the crowd. Harry had the decency to blush, whereas Snape merely shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly.
"I believe a few days ago I did request, in writing, an arena to practise in." Snape managed to keep his voice light sounding, as if destroying a classroom and shaking the entire north wing of Hogwarts to its foundings was a normal Tuesday afternoon occurrence. Harry laughed and coughed up another feather, which earned him another slap on the back from Snape.
"You," Minerva glared out, keeping her voice controlled and menacing at the same time, "are both too strong to duel in this building. If you are so desperate to burn off some energy and torture each other, Find. Another. Way."
She spun her heels and made towards the doors, addressing the class before leaving. "Do not encourage them like this again. Ever."
The door swung closed, and the class returned its gaze to the two professors. Harry was standing with most of his weight on his right leg, hair even more disheveled than normal, his robes torn a bit around the legs. He had a small gash on his cheek, but otherwise appeared fairly well, given the strength of the duel. Snape's robes were torn all about the sleeves, and there was a long gash across his right forearm, that would have been much more alarming to the students had they been able to see the blood on the black cloth. Facing each other, Harry and Snape took turns mumbling Latin and healing the cuts and bruises on their partner. They then faced the room and told the students to stand very still. Wands raised in identical fashion, a "Reparo!" echoed from both lips and the room gaily put itself back together.
….
"What do you suppose she means by burning off energy?" Harry was clinking the spoon against the tea mug as he stirred the sugar in.
The tea was served at their table, and as customary on Thursday mornings, Snape stayed at the table relaxing as he watched out the window. The cliff dropped down quite dramatically from their flat's windows, and he never tired of watching the hawks hunt as they flew around. Cinnamon wafted through the air, pulling at his nose, and he guessed at the source. French toast, maybe. He pondered the question and then turned to answer.
"I believe she thinks that without the mental distractions of having to out-spy and out-maneuver a demented egotistical maniac, we have become restless."
Harry paused to consider this, flicking his wrist and only half watching that the toast he had flipped out of the frying pan landed smartly back in place. Snape would have been annoyed, but he had long conceded Harry's natural cooking instincts.
"Well if she wants war, we can do that."
Snape smirked and sipped his tea. Moments later Harry had joined, and delicious slices of French toast had been placed in front of him, still steaming with heat. Harry poured maple syrup over his before digging in.
"A hobby, I'm certain, is more what she has in mind."
Snape had delicately cut his toast up and was enjoying the butter melting softly in his mouth, and he detected a slight variation of flavour from their normal toast. An eyebrow was raised at Harry, as he savoured the new taste.
"Bailey's. " Harry confirmed, sitting back and smiling, "just enough to give a sample. A hobby sounds like she's chastising us. I refuse to take up knitting, never mind how much Dumbledore loved it." He shook his fork at Snape with those last words, and Snape chuckled very softly.
There was a comfortable silence as they finished the food, and Snape sat back to enjoy the rest of his tea.
"What was the war that you were referring to? I would have thought you'd had enough of that by now."
Harry looked momentarily confused and then smiled. He pointed his wand and their finished dishes levitated to the sink.
"Ah." Harry grinned, and Snape quirked his eyebrow. That sort of grin usually meant trouble was brewing in his partner's mind.
"Need I remind you of the bodily harm she threatened after the dueling…"
Harry waved his hand casually.
"Have you ever had the urge to turn her hair purple?"
Snape blinked, unable to conceal the look of wonderment on his face.
"I can honestly answer that with a no."
"Pity." Came Harry's only reply.
…
In the evening after classes, Snape found himself retreating to the library as if on instinct. He'd spent a lot of time in this library in his youth, and was never surprised to find himself suddenly at the doors to the place, lost in thought and wondering what other secrets he'd be able to uncover within the books. But not today. He was restless. Damn that word, and damn Minerva for bringing it up. He should be happy now, there was no spying, no Dark Lord threatening their every breaths, and he was teaching in the castle he loved with the man he…well he didn't know how to classify his feelings for Potter. And Minerva had suggested he was bored.
He resisted the urge to seek her out and tell her exactly what she could do with her insinuations.
A small noise sounded behind his back and Snape realized that a small group of students was huddled in the cove nearest the restricted section. They were from his class, the joint Defense Against the Dark Arts that he taught with Harry. Slipping soundlessly beside the stacks that separated them, Snape found it almost too easy to listen in.
"You didn't see the destruction though, Mary." Snape recognized the voice at once. Jonathan Fletcher, a fourth year Ravenclaw. "If I hadn't known they were professors and just doing a demonstration, I would have sworn they were actually trying to kill each other." A murmur was heard, and Snape allowed himself a small smile.
"Books weren't just blasted from the shelves, they were torn to pieces. Two windows shattered, the ground was shaking beneath them, and I know I saw blood on Snape's arm. I think Potter had a cut on his face too." He sounded partially awed, and a new voice cut in.
"And did you hear what McGonagall said at the end? If you are so desperate to burn off some energy and torture each other." The voice paused for effect and Severus went through the class list in his mind. Ah. Anna Caldwell, fourth year Gryffindor.
"Torture each other. You know, my sister is friends with Ginny Weasley, and she said that Snape and Potter hated each other from the moment they met. Apparently it was legendary, and Snape even hexed him once. But they work for that Order thingie, so maybe that's why they can't kill each other. Professor Dumbledore must have made it that Order member's can't."
Hexed? Snape pondered. He'd thrown a jar of potion ingredients at Harry's head before, after that disastrous occlumency lesson, but he couldn't remember truly hexing Harry, at least not without warning.
"Well, me cousin was in Professor Potter's dorm, and he says that at the end of the war things got messed up. We all know what the paper said, Potter saved him, and Seamus said that Snape had saved Potter a few times when he was younger. Maybe they made a truce." Niamh Finnegan was just as outspoken as her cousin Seamus.
Snape had had enough and coughed loudly. One, they were getting close to some sort of truth, and two, if rumours were going to spread around the castle he wanted to control what they were. The group of students jumped and Snape sneered with satisfaction. Fear instilled into students was a good thing.
"I can assure you," he said, with a cold and knowing voice, "that if I wanted to dispose of your favourite Professor Potter, I would not do so with a room full of student witnesses."
Three faces blanched.
"So..sorry Professor. "
Snape stalked off with his robes snapping behind him, an amused glint in his eyes carefully concealed.
…
Dinner at the great hall was normally a rowdy event, however the next day was Friday and the movie night, and as such the students appeared more excited and annoying than normal. The head table was full, and from his seat Snape could glare down upon all the tables. The seat beside him was empty, and he was pleased to see that a few students had noticed Harry's absence. Food appeared on their plates, and Snape ate carefully, his wand tucked just inside his sleeve for later use. Tonight they would finally let Minerva in on their little secret, but not before a small prank first, to remind her not to take heed of all of Dumbledore's foolish ideas.
Within minutes of starting there was a loud noise, and the wooden doors at the front of the hall swung open. Snape looked up and feigned indifference as Harry stalked in, walking determinedly down the middle of the room, seemingly oblivious to the reaction he caused. Silence had fallen over the tables as they watched Harry make his way to the staff table. He was wearing black pants, a black waistcoat, and a very dark blue set of robes. Snape looked carefully and noted that Harry was wearing one of his own white collared shirts. And he was glaring, lips pressed straight together, face darkened with what Snape would have thought was anger, had he not known better. It only took a few seconds for most to realize that there was a staring contest happening between Snape and Harry, and neither was it missed that Harry wrenched his chair back from beside Snape and sat down in irritation.
Snape pretended to eat nonchalantly, as if there were not over five hundred people staring at him and wondering just what on earth had happened to cause such a reaction from the normally calm Professor Potter. Beside them, Professors Sprout and Sinistra moved as far as they could from the danger.
"THAT." Harry hissed, loud enough for those at the front of the house tables to hear, "was entirely uncalled for."
Snape looked at him with disdain.
"Potter, if I had any inclination as to what you were referring, I would happily engage in this conversation. As I do not, let me eat my meal in peace."
Snape speared another potato, rather forcefully, and Harry heavily served food onto his plate. They had caught Minerva's attention, as well as the rest of the hall's, but pretended to be oblivious. Snape took advantage of the silence, and waited until Harry had looked up to glare at him before he sent a small thought about Minerva and catnip. A tiny twitch appeared on Harry's lips, and before the smile threatened to become noticeable, Snape spoke up.
"Fine. What did I supposedly do? Your glaring is yet another example of your appalling table manners and I refuse to eat in front of you. Or is the Gryffindor Golden Boy above such pleasantries of manners?"
Harry took his knife and shook it in the direction of Snape. Sprout coughed hesitantly, and Minerva cleared her throat.
"Listen, you miserable old bat. There is a broken potions vial in my kitchen, and for some strange reason, I cannot use magic in my room. And I happen to know that YOU have patented that particular potion, which by the way, you should make sure doesn't linger in the crevices of my bookshelf next time."
Laughter started from some of the students, but neither paid attention. They had hoped to be overheard, as an audience was much more amusing that just their intended target. The other professors were either openly staring, or pushing food around on their plates.
"Arrogant little Gryffindor brat…" Snape didn't get much further, as he noticed tingling feeling on his scalp. Harry had turned his hair red, with gold streaks. More laughter from the students, and from two professors this time. Minerva's lips were pressed very strongly together, and Snape knew the right time was approaching. He concentrated, and Harry's hair turned green with silver strands. The signal.
Harry pushed himself to the edge of the chair and brought himself close to Snape, reaching up but at the last moment deciding not to grab at Snape's robes.
"Greasy git of the dungeons, you prob…"
"Gentlemen!"
A goblet was slammed down on the table and they both turned to look at Minerva. It was silent enough in the hall to hear a sickle drop, and all attention was either on them or the headmistress. The exchange had taken less than five minutes, but the delivery was perfect. They both stared at Minerva and watched as she seemed to be having an inner battle.
"I believe that interruption of dinner is quite enough. You will apologise to the students, and leave the hall now. We will discuss this later." A gasp went up in the hall, and Snape thought they couldn't have timed it better. His shade of purple was darker than the one that Harry had thought of, so Minerva's hair was not just one block of purple, like the tip of a marker. Indeed, it was rather artistic. Growling, they both stood quickly and stormed out the same door, glaring at each other the whole way. Hagrid's poorly hidden laugh was the last thing they heard.
"Nice hair, Potter." It was accompanied by a trademark smirk, and Harry managed to make it to their flat's front hallway before bursting into laughter. He spun Snape against the wall and kissed him fiercely, their mouths moving together forcefully and hands snaking through and grabbing at hair. After only a few moments, Snape growled and pulled Harry back.
"The Wicked Witch of the West will be here soon. We need to look composed, and angry. Playing will have to wait." Harry pouted, but knew that Snape was right. It took all of four minutes for Harry to put wards on the guest room that did not allow magic within their walls and for Snape to glamour the pictures on display that had shown them completing various tasks from the lists over the summer. He had just finished spelling a chalk line down the living room floor, with their names on each side when Harry walked back in and jumped to his side.
"Nice, didn't even think of that idea." A nod was returned to Harry, and Harry sat back with a small glass of mead, accio'ing a book. Snape sat on his side of the room with the latest Potions Quarterly journal and his own glass of mead. He clenched tightly onto a pillow, and Harry decided that the mead would probably be safer sitting on the side table. They waited, but it only took a few moments before the fireplace chimed.
"Severus Snape! I am the Headmistress of this school and you will not ward the floo to prevent me from firecalling!"
Either Minerva needed to get out more, or Harry had underestimated the stress that came along with being Headmistress. She sounded rather frazzled. He supposed that it was a lot of work, but he couldn't help thinking that Snape had had a much rougher time during the previous tumultuous year.
"The wards merely warn me when I am about to be rudely interrupted. As you have already forced Potter upon me, I am keeping the small bit of privacy that I can afford."
Snape said this with a convincing glare, and Harry picked up his part right away.
"If you recall, I didn't choose to share my living spaces with a senile old moser, Snape."
If one could roll their eyes in the floo without drying them, Minerva would have done so right then and there.
"Both of you, honestly. I'm stepping through." A green flare and a whoosh, and Minerva stepped out of the flames. The first thing she noticed was the line, however she decided not to mention it. Harry quietly admired the purple hair.
"I want a truce. There are still four death eaters remaining, the children need strong role models, and you are both decorated war heroes, for Merlin's sake. I put you in the same quarters because Albus convinced me it would ensure that you got over your past animosities, and I figured the time to know each other would help. I guess I was wrong." There was defeat in her voice, but Snape wasn't falling for that.
"I haven't killed him yet. Something must be working."
For his trouble, Snape received two glares. One tired one, and one amused. Minerva sat in the wingback chair by the fire and Harry offered her a drink. He toed the line dividing the room, pushing the boundaries while he served the mead. While Minerva studied the photos on the side table, Snape gave him a small nod.
"Although, I do wonder how Dumbledore managed to convince you it would be a good idea to force two sworn enemies to live together." Harry asked, calmly.
"Did he offer you tea or lemon drops before giving you his little speech?" Snape added neutrally.
"Severus, he's a portrait." Minerva stood close to the fireplace.
"That he is, Minerva." Snape acknowledged, sipping more of his drink. He waved his wand and erased the line on the floor with his wand.
"You know," Harry added, picking up his drink and wandering across the room to the couch that Snape was sitting on, flopping himself down. "I trashed his office in fifth year. I was so annoyed with how he was treating me, as if I was his little puppet, only given information when he saw fit."
Minerva didn't move, but studied them closely.
"I have noticed that tendency of his." She admitted.
"As have we, of course. Enough to perhaps even manipulate those particular tendencies. I daresay, being head of Slytherin house for ten years taught me a thing or two." Snape had a light smirk on his face.
"Explain yourself." Minerva said, after a pause.
"It could very well be that young Mr. Potter and I learned to tolerate each other's presence over the past summer, and worked out our differences. Perhaps we even came to enjoy staying in the same residence over the summer, and wished to continue doing so here at Hogwarts. What better way to achieve that without causing an explosive reaction than by continuing to fight in front of yourself and Dumbledore?"
"I find that very hard to believe, Severus Snape." Minerva looked as if she could not decide whether to slap him or have him checked by a healer.
"Oh fine, Minerva. We're together. When you moved us down here we fought for ten minutes and fell madly in love. We're inseparable. It's love at, well, not first sight actually. It's all your doing, and we're just causing trouble now because we're bored."
Harry, whom had sputtered in his drink at first, started to laugh. Snape had kept such a monotonous tone for the entire confession that Harry had almost missed the sarcasm under his voice. But it was there, and he imagined that the Headmistress noticed it too. For her part, Minerva looked horrified at the thought.
"You two are together? I will believe that, Severus, when wizards start using cars for regular transport." She sputtered at first, but seemed to gain confidence at the end of the statement. This did not last long, as Harry draped his arm around the Potion Master's shoulders.
"Oh yes. Madly in love." Harry added. "Just can't get over how simply divine the man is."
They turned to face each other, and seconds later heard the floo whoosh as Minerva stomped out. Without missing a beat, Snape warded the floo closed with his wand, and Harry pounced, kissing strongly and tasting mead and mint in on his partner's lips.
"We should tell her the whole truth soon. She looks like she'll have conniptions any moment about us."
Harry was kissing softly along Snape's strong cheekbones, the words tickling on his neck while Harry spoke them. Snape groaned and let his hands wander, down Harry's broad shoulders and down to his hips, which he gripped strongly through Harry's jeans. His thumbs circled the front of Harry's pelvis, close to the straining erection that was pressed against the zipper, and Harry's moan vibrated on Snape's lips.
"That risks the entire staff finding out."
Harry sat back and thought for a moment. He absentmindedly flicked open the buttons on Snape's jacket, rocking his hips back and forth slightly. Harry may not have noticed at first, but the hands that stilled him over the hard penis below brought his attention back.
"Sorry." A slight grin played on Harry's face. "I'm just tired of this. There are four death eaters left. We won the bloody war. I like our privacy, but I don't want to pretend to hate you anymore."
The moon was becoming quite bright outside their windows, and Harry's glasses reflected the pale blue light from the window. His sad eyes were unobstructed though, and his partner had heard what he'd really said. Snape reached down, pulled the fly down on Harry's jeans, and reached through to firmly stroke Harry.
"Nnngh." Harry's eyes rolled back and he exposed his neck. Snape leaned up, planting soft kisses around the collarbones that he loved and whispered his reply.
"One step at a time." There was a groan, and Snape lifted Harry to carry him back to their bedroom.
…
It was past eleven and Minerva was pacing her office. Most of the wizards in the portraits were asleep, but one was remaining stubbornly so.
"Albus! Albus Dumbledore, wake up!"
A small twitch of an eyebrow was all Minerva needed to see to know he was awake. She wanted to judge his reaction when he wasn't at his full level of alertness, to see who had been telling the truth.
"Is this some sort of punishment? I'm beginning to think so. This is your cruel punishment, to stick me with the task of getting Severus Snape and Harry Potter to tolerate each other for more than an hour. Albus, they hate each other. I tried to convince Mr. Potter otherwise when he was a student, but I honestly do believe now that they hate each other."
She waited, and glared. Soon he would speak, because she knew he couldn't ignore her that long.
"I thought it was a good idea, at the time." There was that maddening twinkle.
"Ingenious, no doubt. Meanwhile, those two have argued constantly since term started, they make the children nervous, they almost destroyed the north wing during a duel, I suspect it was one of them who turned my hair purple, and there is a wager on between the students to see which one will off the other and how."
Other wizards were starting to listen in, and Dumbledore had the nerve to smile back at the headmistress.
"I thought they only destroyed a classroom. I shall have to check the damage now. However, with that impressive list, it seems they are getting along better than you suspect."
He had the nerve to sound amused, as well.
Minerva cradled her head with her hand.
"I don't think they meant that one to be so destructive. They were very focused in demonstrating dueling. They're just too strong to do it in the building. Why don't you to go visit their flat and see what they're like when no one is watching? The bickering is driving me mad."
Phineas coughed in his frame, and Dumbledore chucked.
"I'd love to Minerva, believe me. But I can't. There are no paintings in that flat. For two men who seemingly hate each other, their paranoia and privacy needs are quite similar."
He smiled, and she stalked out of the office. So it was true. Dumbledore legitimately believe that by placing Harry and Snape in the same living quarters, they would be forced to get along. It was no wonder they were acting as hateful as they had been before. She could only imagine how smug or meddlesome Dumbledore's portrait would be when he heard that they were in fact, getting along much better than anyone had ever predicted.
….
Six thirty am brought Minerva to the bottom of the spiral stairs leading to the unused storage area of Hogwarts, under the Great Hall. She'd never understood why either Snape or Harry had wanted the quarters there, after all, she'd given them a small choice in the matter. It'd taken an exhausting week to carve out, but once she'd been in the place for the first time, she saw how gorgeous it was. This side of the cliff was not calm and tranquil, there were rocks and sharp indentations surrounding their windows, and the water ranged from demonically possessed to mildly irritated on its calmest days. It was quiet, it faced the south, and it was perfect for them.
And it was warded like Gringotts.
The Headmistress should have been able to enter any room in the castle, but Minerva knew better than to assume that. Not when Severus Snape lived there. And technically, she would be able to, but she wanted to be undetected. Even as her animagus form, Minerva couldn't get past the first three wards. She knew the door would respond if she knocked, but she'd never learn anything that way. They couldn't know she was observing, and only by seeing them at home without their knowledge could she confirm what Snape had said the night before.
Six thirty am brought Harry to the kitchen, as it usually did on Friday mornings. The weekends were for sleeping a bit longer, but in all honesty, Harry was a morning person. It was peaceful, quiet, and when he was a child, it was the time before the Dursleys woke. Hard habits were there to stay, it seemed. As he tidied up the popcorn bowl and root beer bottles from the night before, he noticed Snape standing in front of the hallway entrance, watching their framed photo of Hogwarts. They didn't have paintings in their flat, but photographs were fine, as no one new could enter them or jump between the frames. This particular photo contained an edited version of the Marauder's Map, and through that Snape was watching someone close to their door.
"Minerva is pacing outside the door."
Harry looked up with little surprise. He was disheveled in the morning, and it was a look that Snape loved. Green and black flannel pyjama pants, grey Gryffindor gym shirt, thick wooly socks, and hair that seemed even worse in the defying gravity department. The socks were required due to the stone floors, as Harry had never gotten into the habit of wearing either slippers or robe. Snape had started wearing flannel pants and shorter shirts to bed as well, as his nightshirt seemed a bit outdated compared to Harry's wear. He'd never admit that though, and steadfastly hung onto his slippers and robe.
Snape walked into the kitchen and ruffled Harry's hair, leaning in for a quick kiss.
"Breakfast in ten." Harry replied with a smile, pointing at the porridge cooking on the stove with his spoon.
Snape put the teapot and three mugs on the kitchen table before nodding at Harry and replying: "I'll let the cat in."
The cat, as it turned out, was successfully dismantling another ward when Snape opened the door.
"Breakfast is almost ready. Human food only." He spun on his heels and walked back in, leaving the door slightly ajar. Muttering a quick "mischief managed" at the photo, Snape went to the table to take his place. Harry was spooning porridge into the bowls and making his way to the table when Minerva walked in, fully dressed and staring openly.
Various berries were in small bowls on the table already, and there was a spot set out for her. She watched, eyes darting between them, as Snape poured tea for himself and Harry, and then was passed a full bowl with fruit piled on top. They had begun eating early breakfast in their flat instead of the great hall, due to the early time and high fat content in the hall foods.
"Did you not hear a word of what we said last night? Come and eat and we'll answer most questions." Snape didn't look up, but there was a small smile on his lips. He unfolded the Daily Prophet, and sat back against his chair, sipping from the steaming cup of tea. Harry rose to get the forgotten brown sugar from the counter, and squeezed Snape's shoulder in passing.
Minerva could only blink as she passed. Harry still very much in his pajamas, Snape with only an open robe covering his pajamas, and they were getting along. Not just getting along, they were in a routine that looked well established. She let her gaze wander around the room as she sat back, taking in the room. It was very different from the place she had visited last night. It was warm, and she noted little knickknacks on the shelves. The small singular photos that were in the frames on the table contained two people, instead of one. There was music playing softly from somewhere, and she did a double take watching Harry lean over to point out a crossword clue to Snape.
"You're really serious." It wasn't a question; it was a statement, though Harry answered when he offered milk or lemon for her tea.
"Of course. You can test us with veritaserum if you don't believe it, but there you are. Professor Harry Potter and Professor Severus Snape."
Harry sat back and Minerva finally broke out a small hint of a smile when Snape squeezed Harry's hand.
"I really should hex you both right now, you do know that." She relaxed further, taking a sip of the nice hot tea. "And yes. I would like the veritaserum. You're both spies and one is a master occlumens."
Harry laughed and went over to one of the desks in the corner of their living room. Just before dropping the drops on his tongue, he glared in a very Snape-like manner towards her direction. "Do not ask what you are not prepared to know the answer to." A little wink was all it took to assert the meaning.
….
The Great Quidditch Drive-In, as movie night had been unofficially christened, was due to start at eight thirty. It needed to be dusk enough, and the students had been told to be well prepared for the outdoor night chill.
Snape folded one of the thick blankets they had and placed it in a small back, stopping to grab a handful of granola bars and chocolates.
"I'll meet you out there?" He asked, eyeing Harry's outfit.
"I'll be warm enough. And yes."
Snape took a moment to think. "Alright. What movie is it, anyway?"
"One that came out last year and is just on video now. Some British spy that saves the world."
"You are not getting a Bond car." Snape said, literally putting his foot down. The boot's sole caused a crack that echoed through the room.
"I know. But this one is about Austin something. Austin Powers, I think." Harry rolled his eyes.
"Hmm. I don't believe I've heard of it. Nonetheless, we are required to attend." Snape shrugged and left first, headed towards the pitch and the base of the Slytherin stands, where he would wait for Harry.