Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A/n: Sorry for leaving you with such a mean cliffhanger, here's the next chapter to satisfy all of those who think I've let Harry up and leave forever. Honestly, why would I do that? Oh and Sarabande is based on an actual restaurant in New York called Peasant. Just a little fun fact for you. Oh, and thanks to Kozi for looking over this chapter for me! Her help is much appreciated. Remember to review!

A Few Responses: ncgal: I'm updating! I am...and we'll meet Harry, he just has to open up a little more. Thank you! potty: thanks! Though I don't plan on making one..I'm clueless. :) You know it: Of course they'll end up together! No worries there, and thank you! KrisXD: no don't do that, I'm not that great really..nervous...thank you though, you're very kind. Sarah: I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not! Thanks though..I think. Cheers: Sorry about that, and yes, more Harry info on the way! Thanks!

The Loft

Chapter Twelve

Familiar Faces

Sharp rays of purple dashed the door of Fleur-de-lis, as Remus closed up for the afternoon. His eyes watched the colors dance about in the evening sun, and he let out a strangled sigh. The open glass let in a chilly breeze, rustling the plants about in their pots. He carefully walked across the shop, his feet somewhat unsteady, and his face wrinkled in concentration. Worries and bits of irregular thoughts raced through his mind, and he looked forward to a replenishing sleep to lay his mind to rest.

Anxiety had been a close friend over the past week, and he now courted it with impending disaster. He knew he was working himself too hard, and that with all the somewhat unreasonable niggles in his mind, he was sure to crash and burn if it continued. The tension in the air had only increased with the day's monotony, morning and night, dawn and dusk, ever unchanging in each terribly exasperating days.

He went into his room and kicked off his shoes, carefully removing his watch and placing it onto his night-stand. With another heavy sigh, he fell onto his bed, feeling considerably better against the soft, cool comforter. He put a hand on his forehead, looking up through the shade at a white ceiling. The fan above him moved around and around, seemingly mocking his stillness . . . his need for placidity.

Remus turned onto his side and closed his eyes, thoughts and feelings dancing in front of him. Foremost in his mind, and in his concerns, was the date he had scheduled for the following night. He hadn't been out with a potential partner in quite a while, and his nerves shook at the endless possibilities of embarrassment. He couldn't possibly fathom why Severus Snape had called him and asked him to dinner, and in his twisted and quietly suffering mind, Remus was sure it was a joke.

"Uh, well, sure, I suppose." Remus had stuttered. "Where?"

"Sarabande?" said the silky and rather calm voice.

"Sure, all right," he agreed, and could almost feel the man nod on the other end of the phone line.

"I will pick you up, thank you, Remus."

He had tried to ignore the sound of his own name when Severus had said it, but failed miserably, and hung up the phone. Therefore, he had taken to brooding about the date for the past two days, wondering what he would do when the attractive botanist realized how unappealing he himself was. He tried very hard not to mope, but found himself sulking anyway, which only served as a downer for the remaining inhabitants of the shop. Dennis had gone home rather disconcerted because of Remus' behavior, and the man bit his lip remorsefully at the thought.

Remus wasn't as hard on himself as others, per say, since the recent disappearance of his employee. That was perhaps his most circulated and perplexing thought of all. Harry had been gone for almost two weeks, seemingly vanished into thin air. It was so close to December now that Remus wondered only briefly if the artist was going to make it to his own opening. He did not, however, let his imagination run loose as much as some of his other friends. Blaise was convinced that Harry had been abducted. Something about communists . . . .?

The botanist didn't know, and did particularly wonder, though not to the point of unreasonable assumption. He was scared for Harry, naturally, and as the days turned to weeks, he grew more hesitant to deny his worry for the boy. Truly? He was sure Harry had simply gone away for a while. Had it been any other person working for him, Remus would have booted the worker out of the shop and out of his home. But this was Harry. This was his project. Though, he admitted, how was he supposed to save someone that wasn't even there?

Remus drifted into a light doze, still thinking rapidly about the brunette. Peradventure, the most indifferent person to Harry's leaving had been Mr. Malfoy. He hadn't seemed to particularly care otherwise, and often ranted about loving the space to himself and not having to trip over paint pallets and canvas at night. No one was fooled. The blond was just as anxious as the rest of them, and it showed in his eyes when anyone cared to look.

Harry's disappearance worried Remus, though he was not nearly as worried enough to alert the authorities. He figured that Harry and the police did not go hand in hand, though he was assuming, and assuming Harry was all right could very well mean he was beat up and in a ditch somewhere. All and all, the extreme tension and underlaying panic were there, and it was scaring the hell out of the inhabitants of the loft.

Before he knew it, Remus had fallen into a deep and comforting sleep, with his work clothes still on and his hair tied back delicately. He paid for his laziness the next morning, when he woke with a painfully numb arm, and his stomach rumbling loudly. Going through his normal routine, he showered and shaved, eventually sitting down behind his counter with a bowl of wheats, and a hand placed over his eyes so he could read the paper. He heard the door jingle without looking up, and listened to Mrs. Sprout's footsteps as she charged inside.

"It's quite a lovely day, Remus!" she exclaimed, and he looked up, chewing. "It's hard to believe Christmas is just around the corner."

"It's barely December yet Mrs. Sprout." Remus corrected her, smiling.

She gave a wiggle and a scorn, a bit like a ruffled pigeon and scowled at him. "Ooh, mock my fun. The radio programers seem to think it's this Sunday. The carols have already started."

He groaned. "They'd play Christmas music in July if the government would let them."

Mrs. Sprout set down her bag and took her gloves off, her flowery hat sliding down her face nervously. She pushed it up and grinned. "So, tonight is the night, eh?"

"Please don't tell Dennis or Sybil, if anyone knows I'm having a date they'll be here to take pictures," he pleaded, hoping a blush wasn't on his cheeks.

"Yes well, you should tell that Sirius Black at least, he is rather fond of you."

"Why Mrs. Sprout," Remus gathered himself, grinning. He put down his cereal and held back a very amused laugh. "I can't believe there is something you don't know."

She took her sliding hat off forcefully, and looked at him with an intense, offended glare. "What? What?"

"Well you see, Sirius and I used to live together. We were partners for a very long time, until we separated in mutual recognition of our differences. All idiocy really, we're still the best of friends, but not now, and certainly not ever, will we get together again."

Stopping short just to look at him, Mrs. Sprout shook her head and looked off."Well I'll be. I suppose there are some things I don't know."

He smiled at her indulgently and turned the page in his paper. She wasn't finished however, and went over to stand by him.

"Where are you planning to go to dinner?" she asked, her curiosity bouncing back.

"A nice place," he stated.

"A nice place."

"Yeah."

"Where?"

Seeing no other way to escape it, he said, "Sarabande."

"Oh Remus!" she said excitedly, as was expected. "I hear it's a wonderful place! Very expensive, though. Have you ever been to a restaurant like it?"

"Not really. It's in Manhattan."

"Not too far then," she speculated, gazing away. "He must be serious if your first dinner is somewhere so . . . romantically inclined."

"I guess." He looked down at his soggy wheats and pushed the bowl away, the butterflies that had been in his stomach earlier coming back happily, and with a vengeance.

"He'll adore you, Remus, I don't know why you would think otherwise."

He shrugged one shoulder, still looking down.

Mrs. Sprout sighed. "Well? What are you going to wear?"

Remus frowned at her, and then pointedly stared at the clothes he was wearing, smirking. She gasped dramatically. "Oh no you don't! You must have clothes that are somewhat presentable!"

She rushed off and into his room, something she did often without much care, and shuffled through his wardrobe. The bell over the shop door went off again, and he turned to face the first customers of the day. He was pleasantly surprised when Neville Longbottom and Molly Weasley walked in, and smiled when he was enveloped into a tight hug from the motherly looking woman. He hadn't seen either of them in weeks, and figured the wedding plans must have been in full action mode . . . considering Molly Weasley's long list of things to do.

Neville looked rather happy to be back at the shop, and they immediately engaged in small talk of plants and flowers. Mrs. Sprout came out, much to Remus' chagrin, and told Molly and Neville both about Remus' date. He therefore had two gushing women giving him helpful hints and also considerably non helpful hints, all morning. The subject, thankfully, changed when Molly asked about Harry...and quite suddenly, the tension was back.

"What do you mean, he left?" Molly asked, shocked.

"Well all of his stuff is here, we just don't know where he went," he said, shrugging.

"But what if he's dead in some ditch somewhere! He could have been mugged or abducted or...anything!"

"Who are we talking about, sorry?" asked Neville rather nervously. Remus frowned at Mrs. Weasley's worried face, and then turned to him smiling.

"Harry. He works here. Oh, you haven't met him have you?" he said, suddenly remembering.

Neville shook his head, but knitted his eyebrows together. "What did you say his last name was?"

"I can't believe he just left!" Molly said, "He works here, doesn't he Remus?"

Remus looked at Neville apologetically and turned away. "Yes, he does. I think I just want to know why he left, really."

"Well, is he lazy?" she asked.

"Harry?" he shook his head. "No, not at all. He works endlessly, hardly ever sleeps, and is a great help around here. My back has been protesting his leaving for weeks."

Mrs. Sprout shook her head."I don't understand why he would just..." she flung up both of her hands in frustration.

"Potter." Remus suddenly said, turning back to Neville, "his last name is Potter."

Neville, who had been listening to their conversation rather calmly, suddenly brightened. "Artist Harry Potter? Black hair, green eyes...very attractive?"

"That's that one," he nodded in confusion.

"I wouldn't worry about Harry, he does this all the time."

"You know him?" said Mrs. Sprout, her eyebrows disappearing into her hair. Neville beamed, looking off fondly as if remembering something considerably hilarious.

"Oh yes, he used to room with a friend of mine in college. My friend was a Senior, and he and Harry shared an apartment. I think they were rather close. Anyway, Harry was...interesting." The gaze of fondness was back. "I'm very sure Ernie was in love with him, but Harry...well, Harry's clueless."

"I can't believe you know him!" Mrs. Sprout said, shaking her head.

Neville grinned. "lots of people know him, he's very famous in California. Rather, he attended all of the openings and the parties that Ernie dragged him to. Most of the time he stayed out of the media, but sometimes it would catch up with him. That's when he would leave."

They each were listening, completely enraptured as Neville seemed to speak straight from memory, as if telling a very interesting story. Remus blinked.

"But he came back."

"Oh yes, give or take a few weeks, and he would be suddenly lounging on your sofa reading a book."

Molly straightened up and frowned. "What a complicated person."

"Not really, Harry's one of the nicest people I've ever met. Smart, real smart. I think he graduated from school early, because someone told me he went to their UC but left after a year with full honors."

"Is that even possible?" Remus asked. "Well, he is Harry..."

The brown haired young man nodded. "There you go. That's the mind-set you must have when your friends with the infamous Harry Potter. He's Harry, and whatever he does, he does because he is the way he is. If you don't, you'll either end up extremely offended, or," and Neville laughed. " Madly in love."

Remus had never heard Neville say much, though it seemed talk of Harry had brought out the best in the young man. He was no longer timid, and spoke with a tenderness that Remus was sure he would be emitting even if Harry didn't come back.

"He has an art opening here on the fifteenth."

"Really? Where?"

"The projects. He has the back."

Neville smiled. "And why wouldn't he? He's amazing. Have you seen his stuff?"

"Briefly, it's all up there, packed away," he said, pointing to the loft.

"Let's go have a look!" Mrs. Sprout suggested, giddy.

"No, I don't think Harry would like that," Neville said, and then his shy personality was back. "He's a very private person."

Remus flashed him a look of thanks.

"I still can't believe you know him." Molly suddenly smacked Neville on the arm. "Why didn't you tell me!"

The botanist watched affectionately as they talked, thinking of Harry and how much of a relief it was that Neville had reassured them. He would be back, though, what exactly was it that Harry was running from? He sighed, steeling himself for a day of repeated exclamations from Mrs. Sprout, and racing, raving thoughts.

Sooner than he would have liked, the day turned to night, and he was gazing at his wardrobe with growing disgust. He grabbed his hair in frustration and looked about, suddenly plopping down on his bed and letting out a gust of air. He looked at his watch, and grimaced. He had an hour to get ready, and he didn't have a clue what to do.

He got into the shower and fancied himself up a bit, aware of the plain clothes he'd chosen. Remus looked into the mirror, shaking his head at his reflection. He was wearing simple black slacks, a white dress shirt and a brown jacket. His hair was tied back smoothly, and he was clean and not overly perfumed. He looked down at his feet, and then over to his shoes. Dress shoes? Converse? Dress shoes...he went with Chuck Taylor. Severus Snape would think he was a hippie, he noted dryly, but didn't particularly care anymore, seeing as it was two minutes time until...the bell over the shop tolled.

Instead of the immediate disapproval Remus was expecting, Severus gave him the once over with a raised eyebrow, and a look that screamed desire. Remus hadn't been looked at like that, in a very long time, and a blush graced his face. Severus stepped forward, in black pants and a turtle neck, his hair tied back much the same, and his hands gloved.

"The limo is waiting for us," he said serenely. "You look nice."

Remus wanted to laugh at the sudden nervousness in the man's voice. He abruptly felt much more confident, and he gave Severus the smile he used to give Sirius; a smirk completely suggestive, and dead sexy. He noticed the glittering in the botanist's eyes, and new he'd been successful. Severus removed his gloves, a small act of courtesy that did not go unnoticed, and opened the door for him.

"Thank you. Did you say a limo?"

Sure enough, stretched beside the side walk was a long black limousine, complete with a driver and his shiny hat. A bit overwhelmed, but very much so impressed, Remus let Severus lead him to the car with a hand on his lower back. Little mannerisms were always something Remus admired, and hope enveloped him suddenly. Could this be the person he had been waiting for?

"It's flashy, but as a gift from Mr. Malfoy who am I to refuse?" Severus said, opening the door so Remus could get inside. The sarcasm practically dripped from the man's voice and stature, and the amber eyed man found himself smiling.

"It's very impressive," he said, repeating his earlier thoughts.

Severus swallowed, looking away for a moment, before turning back with a smirk. Remus looked him over, and then got into the car. He was grinning madly by then, and didn't see Severus catching his breath nervously before getting into the limo.

The ride into Manhattan was rather nice, and they talked about their mutual interests with a very exaggerated amount of attention. Severus was sitting close to him, though Remus was sure it was only because they were in an elongated car. Surely that meant squishing together was inescapable? After only a few awkward silences, one nasty pothole that pushed Remus into Severus' lap, and six blushes later, they finally arrived at Sarabande.

It was a small, but nice establishment. Red brick and scarlet lighting made the place seem homey and romantic, with its long tables and rich colors. People sat with familiarity and ease, talking over their large (and Remus speculated, expensive) dinners. The mood was pleasant, and Remus found himself smiling as they were seated.

The waiter came over to them and introduced the wines, and they both asked for red, and ordered from the list of preferred Italian meats. Remus ordered the veal and suddenly thought of Harry. He laughed.

"What?" asked Severus, smirking.

Remus looked away for a moment, smiling. "I was just thinking of one of my employees. He's vegan, and he'd kill me if he realized I was eating anything on four legs."

The black eyed man shook his head, "Vegans. I sometimes wonder if they have any ethnic awareness whatsoever." Severus grew intense.

"Do they honestly think the Cherokees or the Apaches, or even the Masai kill calves and antelope out of sheer spite? They insist the world is out to get them and mock the people who take the appropriate actions that may lead to the exact opposite of their narrow-minded, nonconformist ways."

There was an awkward silence, where Severus did a very rare thing and looked abashed, and Remus' burst out laughing.

"I apologize," The botanist mumbled, and Remus shook his head.

"Oh please, don't. That was a very...ahem, insightful look into Vegans. Though I'm afraid Harry's kind of different."

Severus made a noise in the back of his throat and sipped his wine.

"I've no idea why he's so averse to eating meat. He's an artist though, and I think it comes with the territory."

"Wait, Draco's roommate, Harry?"

"That's him."

"Draco talks of nothing else. Though it's more venomous than anything."

They both shared a look. Right, venomous. Their food arrived, and Remus looked down at his rather full plate, and smiled. He found he was enjoying the night immensely, though a restaurant like Sarabande wasn't usually to his liking. He found himself only floundering a couple of times, once with whether red wine went with white or red meat (as obvious as it was), and then again with the spoon and fork ordeal when it came to pasta. Otherwise, Severus recognized his faults with a dark humor that amused them both, and the evening turned out splendidly.

Talking over their meal companionably, they sidestepped dessert and went straight for the coffee. The night grew late, and when they finally got the check, Remus let Severus pay, knowing that fighting over the bill on the first date was a huge no no. Severus put his hand on Remus' back again as he lead him out to the limo, again. The ride back was nearly as eventful as the ride there.

When they reached the shop, Severus opened the door for him again, and they walked up, laughing. As if sensing his enjoyment, Remus later thought cynically, fate seemed to throw another one at him, as he walked up to the side door. The window was shattered, where someone and put a hand through it and opened the lock. He inhaled, having never been broken into before, and glanced over at the front, where his gate was firmly pressed down.

The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open cautiously; his heart pounding. Severus asked him what was wrong, and upon seeing the broken window, moved forward to catch Remus' arm.

"Wait."

They listened for any movement inside the shop, and when nothing was heard, Remus pressed forward. He switched on the light. Glass littered the floor where the window had been broken, and to his undying relief, his shop looked untouched. He walked across the broken shards, the crunching sound loud to his ears, and made it over to the cash register. Popping it open, he frowned in confusion when he saw that all the money was there, and grew even more befuddled when he realized his safe hadn't even been touched.

"Did they take anything?" asked Severus, and he shook his head.

"No. I don't understand..." he suddenly thought of the loft, and bit his lip. "I should go check upstairs."

"I'll call the police."

Remus nodded and walked cautiously upstairs to the loft. When he reached the hallway, his heart beat faster when he noticed the door slightly opened. He pushed forward and walked inside, his eyebrows knitted when he realized that likewise, nothing had been touched. A canvas looked as if it had been thrown aside, and one drawer was open, but otherwise...nothing.

He walked back downstairs silently, and came up beside Severus.

"Yes. No. Nothing," he said into the receiver. "I understand. Thank you."

He hung up, and Remus tilted his head in question.

"There coming down to right up a report," he sighed. "I'm assuming Draco isn't here."

"Hasn't been here much, really." Remus shrugged. "I don't get it."

"Anything upstairs?"

"No, they didn't touch anything. The door was open though..."

Severus suddenly looked very serious. "They were looking for something. Any idea what it was?"

"If I did, don't you think I would have expected this?" Remus snapped, and then sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just...this has never happened to me before."

The other botanist looked pensive, and then put a hesitant, but reassuring hand on Remus' shoulder. Remus appreciated the solemn act of comfort. Severus waited for the police to show up, and the entire mess was trifle to them really. They wrote the mandatory report, and the two men watched as they left and the remains of Remus' window lay scattered across the ground.

"Thank you. For staying with me, and everything."

"It isn't a problem," Severus said offhandedly, and walked with Remus out to the limo. The driver started the car. "Are you sure...well, are you sure you don't need me to stay?"

It wasn't a suggestive comment, more condoling than anything else. Well, as condoling as Severus Snape could be. He shook his head.

"I'll be fine."

"If you're sure."

He nodded again, and then smiled. "I had a really nice time tonight."

Severus cleared his throat. "Then in that case, would you perhaps agree to another likewise dinner?"

Remus bit his lip. "Well I..."

"Did you not like the restaurant?"

"No! It was very nice, um, I'm just not used to fancy dinners and all."

The man nodded knowingly, before smiling.

"Then what kind of date are you used to?"

Remus blushed. "I'm more of a walk in the park, café sort of person..."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

Caught of guard, he stuttered."Well, nothing really."

"At around noon?"

"Nothing..."

"Then we'll take a walk in the park. I'll see you tomorrow."

And without much time for protest, Severus got into the limousine, giving him one last somehow comforting smirk, and drove away. Remus turned away from the sidewalk, smiling, before his eyes found his broken window, and the mystery of what exactly had happened that night. He walked inside and looked around for a moment, trying to force down the underlaying fear, and strange eeriness that now hung in the shop. The empty place was oddly frightening to him, and he suddenly wished that he had asked Severus to stay.