"The bill was nearly 50 Galleons, Harry." Snape pulled the door open with a vengeance, stalking over to the table.
"I told you it was my treat." The door shook on its hinges when Harry slammed it shut with equal force.
Ron wondered what the door had done to either of them.
"Your treat? What for, Harry? I do not need your charity. I happen to have a job. I can pay my share!" Snape shrugged out of his cloak, draping it over his left arm like a shield, turning towards the window, away from Harry.
"This isn't about fairness. It's a stupid bill, Severus. One bill." Harry ran an aggravated hand through his hair, pushing his glasses back up his nose in his trademark nervous gesture.
Snape spun around, anger in his eyes. "FIFTY Galleons worth of stupidity."
Ron cringed. Fifty Galleons. Bloody hell, that was about a week's pay.
"Fine, next time we can go somewhere cheaper."
"Why? Are you saying that I cannot afford the 'Louis XIV'? What do you think I am, some kind of charity case?" Snape glowered down on Harry, his lips pinched into a thin line.
"Sheesh, Severus, you sound like Ron, you know!"
"I most certainly do not!"
Ron agreed.
"This is stupid; it was only dinner, Severus." Harry voice sullen.
"This is stupid? You get your will, and what I want is stupid. As always." Snape had thrown his cloak over the kitchen chair, face red with fury, arms akimbo.
"What? No!"
"Then what, dear Saviour, what is it you wanted? Showing off your wealth and fame?"
"You are being an arse; all I wanted was for us to have a good time." Harry kicked the chair.
"I don't need your money to have a good time"
Harry was leaning onto the table now, screaming: "Why does everything, every little thing, have to be such a struggle with you? This is SO NOT FUCKING WORTH IT! I am so sick of this. So fucking sick." The windows rattled in their frames with the magic charge of Harry's anger.
Snape blanched, drawing in on himself, his face drained of anger, of emotion. He turned around, walking away from the table, staring out into the night through the kitchen window. "Is that what you want? To end this?"
"You gotta be bloody kidding me! Of course, do you think I want this to go on forever? Are you out of your mind?"
Snape stood rigidly, face ashen. He reached out for his coat, stepping towards the door. His shoulders trembled slightly, his voice barely above a whisper." I … I guess then this is…" he swallowed hard. "Good-bye."
"What? NO! Oh for fucks sake …" Harry looked up in confusion, taking in the sudden change of emotion, understanding dawning in his eyes. He breathed deeply. Once, twice. "Severus? Wait!" He tentatively stepped closer to Snape. Snape stepped out of reach, but Harry followed.
"No, no, no, I am an idiot. I didn't mean it that way." Harry gently touched Snape's rigid back, his voice thick, failing with raw emotion. "I was talking about the bill, not us. Severus, please. This, us, you. Tis worth … more. Everything …"
Snape still had not turned around, but he seemed to relax a bit, his fingers interlacing with Harry's. "Harry. I … I… people never… this is … new. I don't know how to handle this. I have never been good at …."
Harry rested his head against Snape's bony back. "I know, Severus, I know. Me neither."
Ron caught himself sympathising with Snape. He knew all too well how Harry's casual approach to money could grind. It was something Harry had never been able to get.
Thinking back on the many times money had been an issue between him and Harry, on how growing up dirt poor had sucked arse - the stupid second hand robes, Harry getting one first-class broom after the other just for existing. The unfairness of it all… He sighed in frustration.
Sorry mate, but on this one, I have to side with the git.
Snape had been editing the manuscript on the veranda facing the garden. A blanket on his lap, guarding against the spring chill, his pen scratching comments into the suburban afternoon quiet. Every now and then Snape's eyes would wander into nothingness watching the clouds go by.
Ron snorted. He was kind of glad Harry had never asked him to read 'the thing.'
At least now Harry would get mad at Snape when he told him his writing, well … sucked. But then, Ron thought bitterly, if one was Harry Potter, what did that matter.
"Cuppa?" Harry stepped through the kitchen door onto the veranda, handing Snape a steaming mug, sitting down next to him.
"Mmh."
"That bad?" Harry lifted the blanket from Snape's lap, draping around the two of them. Snape wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder.
The domesticity of it all made Ron gag.
"There are a couple of things, but over all it is surprisingly entertaining."
"I am glad you find the trials of my childhood entertaining." Harry harrumphed.
The arm sneaked lower, around Harry's waist, drawing him close. "I find entertaining the adult version much more interesting."
Harry grinned and scooted closer under the tartan warmth of their shared blanket. "The things I put up with…"
Snape put the book down, resting his head on Harry's. "You always did have a minor Cinderella complex…"
"Just waiting for my Prince Charming to show up… still waiting…"
God, his teeth are yellow. Ron shuddered at the thought of what his breath must be like. Yet Harry did not seem to mind at all. This was all so twisted. And wrong, so very wrong. Ron shuddered. Hair that rancid had to smell bad. The idea of touching it, of Snape touching Harry made him nauseous.
Snape's hand slid down Harry's back. His lips caressed Harry's ear, the tip of his tongue sneaking out, sliding along the shell of Harry's ear, mumbling secret words that made Harry blush and his breathing became ragged his voice sultry. "Oy, that tickles! Naughty, Professor!"
A faint smile played across Snape's lips. He bit down on Harry's earlobe. "Do not call me 'professor' when I am doing 'this.'"
Harry squirmed in his seat. "You are evil!" Harry gasped, slightly rocking back and forth.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Harry moaned. "Oh, my God. Again."
"'My God' it is now…" Snape drew him into a heated kiss.
Harry nipped his lower lip. "Enough! Now!" He pulled away the blanket, desperately undoing Snape's trousers, wriggling them down a bit.
Harry toed off his trainers - his trousers sliding off his skinny legs to puddle around his feet - Snape's fingers still up his arse. Need and desperation plain on his face.
Ron's brain blanked. He had known that they were doing something under there, but this. How can anyone want, or even enjoy that? Frozen in horrified fascination he continued to watch.
Snape's whispered, 'Harry,' nearly drowned in Harry's moans as he came.
Hot white come on his hand, trousers and porch. Snape's hips jerked once, twice, spilling deep into Harry's arse. His arms wrapped possessively around Harry's waist, both of them panting hard.
"That was… wow."
Ron waited for the scathing remark about Harry's verbal skills, but it never came.
All Snape did was tighten his grip around Harry's waist and gently nuzzle Harry's sweaty neck.