Chapter Three: Dinner Conversation
As they entered the kitchen, Severus inhaled deeply, "Gods, Harry, that smells divine."
Harry grinned and ducked under Severus' arm, moving towards the stovetop, "If there were ever a discerning nose…" He checked the sauce and increased the heat a bit, as a voice behind him, ground,
"Mister Potter" the enunciation was perfectly precise, "are you perhaps implying something untoward about the size of my nose?"
"Oh, no. No, of course not," Harry shook his head adamantly, turning his back to the potions master to stifle a laugh, before he drawled playfully, "whatever would make you think so?"
"The equivalent of a doctoral level's certificate in legilimency and more than a passing acquaintance with your extraordinary facility for courting disaster."
Harry snorted. "Well perhaps you'd care to put a bit of that vaunted intellect and experience to good use and get the kettle a quick start?" he inclined his head towards the salted water waiting on the stovetop.
Arms encircled him from behind, providing a distinct reminder of his unclothed state, as a sneer dripped syllables into his ear, "you cannot seriously suggest that a potions Master" emphasis on the last, "would reduce himself to boiling water?"
"If said potions master were interested in eating sometime this evening, then yes," a practiced, sage nod of the head," I'd suggest he retrieve the rather large stick up his arse and put his much esteemed skills to good use."
Severus squeezed the boy for his impertinence, casually flicked his wand in the direction of the water, and remarked lightly that his esteemed skills might indeed be put to good use before this night was over and perhaps this reckless boy that foolishly followed him about would do well to remember that.
Harry chuckled, turned and fluttered his eyelashes at his love, and then began to quickly assemble their meal. He dunked the pasta in the boiling water, turned the fire up in the oven to warm the rustic loaf lying on the sideboard, and set about to create a dipping sauce. He doused a few handfuls of garlic roasted earlier with extra virgin olive oil, and then reached for the aged balsamic. He doubted Dionysus himself had access to a better cellar than the Snapes. The vinegar came out of sherry casks that had been pristinely aged for just over two centuries. Pure decadence, it would do just as well to serve the balsamic in aperitif glasses. Instead he sprinkled it over the olive oil mixture, added some salt, a few grinds of pepper and a bit of the fresh grated parmesan. A few quick stirs and his own version of Italian butter was finished.
Severus sat at the table watching Harry work. It was a dance of sorts, the economy of moves, the agility with which he managed to keep up with all of the elements of the meal, so that everything timed out perfectly. Harry was seating himself moments later, the dinner lavishly styled and plated. Severus tipped some more of the chianti into a second goblet, and raised his glass. Harry returned the toast before both of them set upon the food with relish.
Several minutes passed before Severus reminded himself that he had an agenda for this meal. "I ran into Hornsby at a quarterly stockholders meeting…"
"Oh?" Harry's head was still bent over his plate, but his voice was deceptively casual.
"Yes, he finagled a seat next to me and rather awkwardly monopolized my attention for the better part of an hour. You can imagine my intense pleasure at such an arrangement."
Harry snorted appreciatively, but continued to shovel in pasta without looking up.
"He mentioned that things were quite busy about the ministry, particularly for a junior auror. Apparently, several, underground gangs have been stirring up a bit of trouble both around England and the continent. I was, of course, somewhat surprised as I had myself been in communication with one of said aurors quite a bit over the last week and this was the first I was hearing about it," he watched Harry intently as he took another sip of wine.
Harry glanced up, searched Severus' dark eyes, and then shrugged. "You know how busy it gets in the spring, people having spent too much time indoors and such, ready to drum up a bit of excitement."
"hmm," Severus' response was noncommittal.
"I suppose that we might be slightly busier than usual."
Severus allowed the silence to stretch as he mentally inventoried the various charms one could use to multiply the volume of dipping sauce left.
"W-We've been down two, you know since Lee and Alicia eloped, and well several of the smaller shopkeepers have been filing complaints about the occasional vandalism and such. Something, I don't know, I went over Flourish and Blotts as well as Dunwitties myself and there is something…I don't, there's something odd, as if there is something similarly uncommon about both of the incidents?" Harry's brow furrowed as he was reminded of the puzzle that had plagued his few unoccupied moments during the last week, "I just can't quite…"
"Forgive me, but I was not under the impression that petty vandalism and burglary fell within the purview of the office of aurors?"
"yes, well," Harry shrugged again, "Lavender's a distant relative of Blott, and she'd owled last week, it wasn't much out of my way."
"hmmm," Severus contemplated briefly whether or not there existed an elegant approach to sopping tomato sauce onto one's bread.
"And I overheard one of the squadron leaders say that they had no leads regarding Dunwittie's. Erm, and he was so helpful during the war, after Ollivander vanished, I thought someone else should have a look about. It didn't seem like too much at the time."
Severus scoffed, "and of course, you are an excellent judge of such things."
Harry glanced away. "Hornsby obviously thought it okay, he signed off on my request for the squad's reports."
"Did he even look through the request forms, or was he too busy basking in the reflected light of your fame, hoping he might win friends and influence people by association?"
Harry smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Harry. Answer me this: since we were together last, have you had a day off?"
"Last Sunday I spent a good part of the day reading outside at a café."
"Would this be the same Sunday that hosted the opening of the new Auror's Cooperative branch in Brussels? I recall seeing a picture of you seated next to the Belgium Prime Minister at brunch."
"I'd apparated back to London by 2," Harry's voice hitched defensively.
"And your shift started when, midnight? Indeed, quite a little holiday, I'm surprised you didn't owl a postcard, brag about the veritable hours you whiled away in repose."
"It's difficult for me to say no."
"You manage it quite a bit in my vicinity," Snape kept his amusement mostly to himself.
"You're different."
"I have always said you have a superior grasp of the obvious."
"That's not what I mean."
"Well then, pray tell what is it that you do mean" Severus quirked an inquiring eyebrow.
"You, you don't expect me to fix things. You aren't surprised when I, when I fail. You," his voice dropped to a whisper, "like me no matter what." Harry looked up, his eyes fierce, "Not everyone is like that, you know. Most everyone wants to-to-to use me.
"And you think I do not?"
The glitter in Harry's eye transformed into lust, "well, but that's, you know, mutual" his own smirk had improved greatly under Severus' tutelage.
"You would wantonly exploit my poor, beleaguered body?" Severus had a tendency to play the age card.
"With pleasure," Harry ostentatiously licked his lips.
Severus couldn't help grin in response. "As delightful as that sounds, and I trust you will have ample opportunity to, ah, provide evidence of your infatuation at a later time, we really must address more pressing matters, Harry." The grin swiftly left his mouth, "At this time, I've disabled your magic, but that, as you well know, is merely temporary. We perhaps have two more hours before we must allow the magical energies to resume their stream, and well, I'm not certain that such a short span of time will be sufficient to fully address the problems. Notice my intentional use of the plural, by the way. It will not be easy."
"It never is, Sev."
"I'm speaking of a deep trance, Harry. We'll need to bleed off some of the excess energies, and, of course, find a way to assuage the, ah, agony. Mixing adequate doses of pleasure and pain might throw you into the requisite altered state of consciousness, but I won't know how much until after we begin," during the speech, Severus began chewing his lower lip, and his eyes looked away from Harry's, seemingly focused on something farther away. As a result, he didn't notice at first that Harry had gotten up from the table. Until,
he felt a hand brush the lap of his robes. Harry folded his legs underneath himself and calmly looked up from where his forehead rested serenely upon Severus' thigh, "When do we begin?"