The Little Things
There was a sock on the floor.
It was odd, the way he seemed to be noticing things today. He never noticed how small Harry's socks looked, but it made sense since Harry had small feet. Harry always left the sugar bowl in exactly the same place on the wrong counter every morning. Harry looked silly with a towel wrapped around his head after a shower. It had nearly been a year since they moved in together, and he had never noticed these things. He'd always been annoyed at the litter of clothing on the bathroom floor, irritated at his inability to find the sugar before his first cup of coffee, and distracted by the parts of Harry the towel wasn't covering.
The sock was still on the floor, and noticing how small it was didn't make it fly into the hamper. Snape's banishing spell did the job quite well. It had been a year, maybe that explained it all by itself. A year ago this very hour Harry had walked through that door, dropped his bags in the sitting room, and used this loo for the first time. Severus burst out laughing. Half a cup of coffee was most defiantly not enough to get his brain properly functioning. He finished his morning routine and walked out of the bathroom.
Harry was sitting on the left side of the table in his chair. It was funny how that had happened. Suddenly, half of Severus' furniture belonged to Harry. He couldn't imagine how awkward it would be if he were to sit on the left side of the table tomorrow before Harry got out of the shower. This, despite the fact that there hadn't even been a chair on the right side of the table in the tiny kitchenette until Harry moved in and Severus had sat on the left side of the table every morning for a decade and a half.
"I defiantly have not had enough coffee this morning." Severus murmured, refreshing his mug.
"Why?" The irritatingly chipper Gryffindor asked. Honestly, being that alert first thing in the morning ought to be a crime. Snape glared at the hero of the wizarding world in an effort to make his opinions known without getting into that argument, again.
"My mind has been fixated on mundane and irrational emotional drivel." Severus savored his coffee, enjoying the feeling of caffeine crawling through his veins.
"Now that's just insulting." Harry stood up and poked Severus in the side. "After what I let you get away with last night…"
"Role play was your idea, I simply am not any good at it."
"You were a double agent for how long and you can't pretend we've just met for a one night stand?"
"I see no comparison whatsoever." They went on in the same vein for some time. Severus enjoyed the banter; it happened every morning one way or another. It was familiar and comfortable, like his chair on the right side of the table and socks on the floor. They moved from the kitchenette to the sitting room after breakfast and Severus picked up a book. Harry started in of some paperwork.
The clock struck nine, and Severus remembered that weekend one year ago. Harry had discovered the night light at just past nine when he moved Severus' dresser over to accommodate his own. He'd been so anxious about Harry's arrival he'd forgotten about it. Now that had been a fight. Severus had been determined to throw it out, claiming that he hadn't know of it's existence and that it certainly couldn't have been functional. Harry was determined to prove that it was functional and have a strait answer as to why the snarky Slytherin needed a night light. Snape slept on the couch that night.
The nightlight was attached to the wall opposite the couch and to the left of the fireplace the next morning, and Harry had his answer. It was still there, and it came in handy when one needed to gat a glass of water late at night, or when they had a row. He didn't need it with the wizard who defeated the Dark Lord within arm's reach. Somehow, Harry found that sweet rather than pathetic. Severus couldn't understand how he ended up on the couch after a row when Harry hadn't been living there for a handful of hours, but it was much better than Harry leaving. No glowing blue ball could have helped him withstand that.
"Severus, are you alright?" Harry's voice effectively cut off Severus' train of thought.
"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"
"You have been staring at the night light for nearly ten minutes." Harry replied and Severus understood. He only needed it when something was wrong, only mentioned or made note of it when it was needed. It was the sort of thing that was understood without either of them actually talking about it. It was like the chair on the left side of the table.
"I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"Inconsequential things, mostly."
"Oh, then you weren't talking about me earlier?" It was an honest mistake, Severus supposed. His terms of endearment often sounded a lot like derogatory remarks, though Harry was uncannily able to tell the difference. He could have been talking about Harry.
"No, I was not."
"Then what were you thinking about?"
"Nothing important, as I told you." Severus could see Harry wasn't going to accept that answer. "You dropped a sock when you were putting your clothes in the hamper."
"You've been contemplating one of my socks for over an hour?" Harry looked like he was either going to floo St. Mungo's or slap him.
"You left the sugar bowl on the other counter. You do both of those things every day, and sit on the left side of the table too." Harry's expression was blank. "Every day for a year…" It was like the sun broke through the clouds, and Harry nodded in understanding.
"You only snore for five minuets before you wake up. You move the sugar bowl every day, knowing I'm just going to move it back over next to the tea service where it ought to be kept the next morning. You put on your shoes and socks before your shirt, and your robe before you button your shirt cuffs. I've watched you do it every day for a year." It was Snape's turn to be startled. "It doesn't get on my nerves anymore; I don't know when it changed."
"I suppose we ought to mark this occasion somehow." Severus murmured.
"I suppose so." Was Harry's answer, but neither of them had anything planned beyond the usual. It was the second Tuesday in August, and Staff meetings didn't start up until the last week before term. Neither of them had much of anything to do, and the boredom that had seeped in had sparked last night's rather disappointing experiment. Snape looked at the uncomfortably flat pillow on the couch he'd been using last night, and wondered if doing anything particularly special was a good idea.
A/N: I just came up with this rather randomly. Is it worth continueing? I wrote it in two hours in the dead of night. I blame it on the heat. My air conditioner broke in the middle of a heat wave, and I've got a boiled brain.