Mature content - read with discretion
Chapter 5
Harry didn't think it wise to show up unannounced again in Severus' quarters, so he had owled Neville and asked him to meet at the Hogwarts gates Saturday evening at seven.
"Harry!" Neville cried as he approached the gates. "So good to see you!"
"Hey Neville," Harry smiled as he entered the grounds, Neville recasting the enchantments before they headed up to the castle.
"So, what brings you back to Hogwarts?" Neville asked as they reached the doors of the Great Hall.
"I'm here to meet with Professor Snape," Harry replied to the astonishment of his friend.
"Snape? Really? Ok," he said warily.
"We've actually become…friends…over the past few months. He's really helped me to deal with Gi-Ginny's death," Harry stuttered slightly over the name.
"Well, that's great. Glad you're getting better. Say," Neville asked, "Do you know where his quarters are? I could walk you there."
"That'd be wonderful, Neville – I actually have no clue where he lives," and both men chuckled as they made their way through the castle.
Neville had wished him well before leaving a very nervous Harry outside Severus' door. Taking a deep breath, Harry knocked on the wood. He was about to repeat his actions when he heard movement behind the door.
"Yes?" came the muffled voice.
"Severus, it's me, Harry," he called out.
The door opened to reveal Severus in a plain white buttoned shirt and black trousers. His hair was pulled back, something Harry had never seen. He had a fleeting thought that it made Severus that much more attractive. His musing was cut short, though, with Severus' words.
"Mr. Potter? I don't recall us having an appointment this evening, is something wrong?" Severus had made no move to invite Harry inside. In fact, he seemed to be using the door as some sort of shield.
"Wrong?" Harry was puzzled. "No, nothing's wrong. I told you I'd see you this weekend, before I Floo'd home. It's the weekend," Harry stated bluntly.
"Your powers of observation astound me," Severus rolled his eyes.
"Might I come in?" Harry asked.
Severus looked like every bone in his body wanted to say no, but he overruled it and sighed, "Yes," as he opened the door wider for Harry to enter. He led them to the sitting room. "Brandy?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow at Harry.
"That would be great, thanks," Harry agreed with a smile.
Severus got out his wand and conjured the necessary items, handing one glass to Harry and keeping the other for himself. Harry sat down on one end of the couch and Severus stood between one of the sitting chairs and Harry, eyes darting back and forth as if deciding where he should sit. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Oh for goodness sake, Sev, I'm not going to bite you, sit down on the couch."
Severus lost the internal war and sat as far as he possibly could from Harry on the opposite end of the sofa. Harry tried to drag conversation out of a reticent Severus for a while before asking to use the loo. Severus indicated the general direction and Harry made his way to relieve himself. On his way back to the couch, he could see the back of Severus' form where he sat. He noticed that with the hair pulled back, he could really see Severus' neck. It was long, slender, and pale. Lovely, really, Harry thought to himself. As he made his way closer to his seat, he paused behind Severus and let his fingertips graze just a few inches of skin slightly above Severus' collar. He felt Severus tense and heard the other man's breath hitch.
"You should pull your hair back more often," Harry suggested. "The effect is nice." He finished walking around the couch and sat back down – much closer to Severus than he had been previously.
"Perhaps you should go," Severus let out in a stilted, uncomfortable tone.
"But it's still early!" Harry protested. He let out a huff, "Look, I'm sorry if touching your neck made you uncomfortable. I won't do it again." He paused. "Unless you ask me to," he tried to keep the hope out of his voice.
"What part of the word friendship has escaped your overwhelming intellectual capacity?" Severus spat out dangerously.
"We can still be friends," Harry drew his brow together in confusion. "Why would we have to stop being friends just because we're attracted to each other?"
"Mr. Potter, I am not attracted to you!" Severus spluttered out.
"You said you were; you said anyone with eyes would find me attractive. And you have eyes. Lovely eyes."
"I will not…I cannot…good God, man, you are still in mourning! Would you stop flirting with me?" Severus pled forcefully.
Harry gave him a look of incredulity. "In mourning? This is still about me being fragile? Tell me, Severus, is there some sort of time limit you've placed on this 'grieving process' I'm going through? I'd like to know what an appropriate amount of time is so that I know when I can resume having human feelings."
"Of course I don't have a set time limit – everyone…people take their own time…you should take your time…" he trailed off as Harry settled a hand on his knee.
"Exactly. Everyone heals on their own time. I'm not fragile, Severus. I'm not going to break. Just tell me you don't want me. Tell me now, and I'll stop. Tell me 'no', and I'll never mention it again, I swear. Don't worry about my emotions, I just need to know yours. If you can swear to me that you don't think about me –that you don't want me that way, I'll leave this instant."
Severus' mouth was dry, but he could not find the ability to swallow.
"Can you, Severus? Can you say those words?" Harry rubbed tiny circles with his thumb on Severus' thigh, right above his knee.
Defeated, all Severus could do was close his eyes and give a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.
Harry stood up abruptly. "Then it seems to me that we're really dealing with more of your own time table, not mine." And with that, he let his hand trace down the side of Severus' face and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. He made his way back over to the fireplace and turned around once before he left. Severus had not reopened his eyes and his hand was clenched into a fist so tightly his knuckles were white. Harry shook his head and made to step into the flames.
"Where are you going, Harry?" Alameida asked him.
"Home," Harry answered. "The Professor is not ready for me yet."
"The Professor needs you," the snake insisted.
"I know," Harry smiled sadly. "I need him too. He just doesn't see it yet."
"Good bye, Harry. Please come back soon," Alameida hissed.
"When I can," Harry promised. And with that, he swirled away into the green fire.
::
Harry had tried to not think about Severus – he really had, but his dreams continued to wake him up with a hard-on at the best of times and in a pool of his own semen at the worst of times. He wasn't surprised that he hadn't heard from the man, but he was beginning to get irritated at the cowardice Severus seemed to be showing. One Monday evening, he decided to take matters into his own hands.
"Severus?" Harry's head called from the fire into the Professor's Hogwarts quarters. "Severus, dammit, where are you?"
"Harry Potter, sir?" The house elf that had previously given Harry permission to wait for Severus in his quarters was face to face with Harry.
"Oh, hello. Is the Professor here?" Harry asked as politely as he could.
"Oh, no sir. And I has a message for you. He says, 'Mr. Potter, I have much business to attend to and do not know when my schedule will allow for any company. I will contact you when I am able.'"
"Really," Harry stated. "Well, you can tell him you delivered the message to me. But tell him this, too: 'You are an insufferable git.'"
"I is not sure I can say that to the Professor, Mr. Potter, sir." The house elf had begun to wring its hands in obvious discomfort.
"Fine," Harry conceded, "but you can certainly tell him that I will, under no circumstances, wait for an Owl from him. Tell him to expect one from me by the end of the week."
"This I can do!" The house elf nodded. "Thank you, Harry Potter, sir! A good evening to you!"
Harry muttered an obligatory response and pulled his head from the fire.
Insufferable git, Harry thought to himself, this calls for heavy artillery.
By Thursday evening, Harry had planned out what he was going to do and had enlisted Ron and Hermione's willing help. He had some back-up plans ready to go, but he hoped he wouldn't need them. He sat down to pen an Owl to Severus before he retired for the evening.
Severus,
I had intended to begin my correspondence to you with an overly sarcastic remark about how childish it is to play the avoidance game. I decided, however, that I wanted you to read past the first line, and so have opted to not use that particular opening. I want to acknowledge your apprehensions about my 'precarious emotional state,' I believe you labeled it. I certainly do not discount your reservations, nor do I wish to make you feel as though I do. I do, however, feel you owe me the respect to know myself and what I need, and want, given that I am an adult. In a few weeks, the one-year anniversary of Ginny's death will be here, and I am hoping that can be a marker for my emotional status. I am offering this compromise: if I make it through the anniversary without any breakdowns or psychotic episodes, then we start spending time together again. I believe this is a more than fair bargain, and one you ought to consider with sincere thought.
Harry
Harry called to Whitmore, his owl, and attached the letter to his leg. "For Severus – at Hogwarts," he said to the gray, fluffy bird, and after it flew out the window, Harry made his way up to bed.
He was not surprised that he received no reply for nearly a week. The next Thursday afternoon, however, a handsome, tawny owl flew into his office with a letter attached to its leg. Recognizing it immediately as a Hogwarts bird, Harry felt a jolt of excitement that he immediately forced himself to temper as he unrolled the paper, not wanting to be disappointed – or irritated, the latter being much more likely.
Mr. Potter,
I will give it due consideration. And I did not label your current emotional state as 'precarious.' You have clearly failed to recall that I merely suggested it was unstable. While I understand this makes it sound as though you have some sort of volatile psychological problem, I do not need another Owl to remind me that the only mental issues you have are strictly related to being a perpetually inane Gryffindor.
Professor Snape
Harry snorted. At least he could continue with Plan A – for now.
The next few weeks were spent with Ron and Hermione planning, although with Hermione's efficiency they really only needed a few days. With one week remaining until the anniversary, Harry sent out invitations.
::
Severus didn't recognize the post Owl that pecked at the door that evening, so he let it in without trepidation. He puzzled as he took the envelope from the bird – it seemed to be an invitation of some sort.
Professor Severus Snape
Potions Master
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Severus slid open the envelope flap and pulled out the parchment.
You are invited to attend a celebration of life in honor of Ginny Potter this Saturday, at the household of Harry Potter. Festivities to begin at 2pm and last into the night. Please send RSVP by Wednesday to Mr. & Mrs. Ronald Weasley in Sussex.
Your gracious hosts, the Potter and Weasley families.
Severus stared at the paper, reading it again before his brain started working again. This was most unexpected. He immediately decided that he was irritated – affronted – at what was a blatant attempt to get him to capitulate to Potter's passing fancy with him. He wished nothing more than to throw the invitation into the fire. At the last moment, he thought better of it and pulled open a drawer in the desk and shoved it inside. He would most definitely NOT be in attendance at this…this farce of a celebration. Who celebrated the death of their wife, anyway?
Severus tried not to think about the invitation that week – he really did, but it kept nagging at the back of his mind. He was trying to unravel it, like a puzzle. Part of him wanted to acquiesce and go, just to spite the brat, but he did not relish the thought of acting the fool – or being desperately uncomfortable. And one of, if not more likely both, those things would happen if he were there.
He was disturbed Thursday evening by the sound of someone's head in his fire.
"Professor Snape," the voice called. It sounded familiar, but in the Floo, you could never be really sure who it was. He made his way over to see the caller.
"Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione's head was bobbing in the flames.
"Yes, do you think I could pop in for just a minute? I have something quite urgent to discuss with you."
Taken aback, Severus replied without thinking, "Of course." A soon as her head disappeared, he inwardly cringed. Of course she had something urgent to discuss.
A moment later, Hermione was spinning out of the Floo and onto his hearth.
"Professor," she said in greeting. Severus nodded warily in return. "Do you think we might sit down?"
"Mrs. Weasley, I really must insist that this discourse be quite short – I do have work begging to be done."
"I understand, Professor," she said sincerely. Severus motioned for her to sit in one of the armchairs. He took the opposing chair. He waited for her to speak.
"I haven't received your RSVP to our celebration for this Saturday."
"I am aware of this," he replied blandly.
Hermione appraised him with a calculating look he wouldn't have credited her to have possessed. "I'm sure it must have slipped your mind, what with all the pressing work you have to complete," she stated evenly.
"No, Mrs. Weasley, it has not. I have no intention of attending this gathering, which is precisely why I have not sent you a message confirming my presence."
"Busy, are you?" She asked coldly. If she had still been a student, he would have taken points for her attitude. Even so, he was still sorely tempted.
"As it happens, I am not. I am simply exercising my right to refuse attendance."
"Why?" She said tersely.
"Because I do not wish to go," Severus sighed with losing patience. "If that is all, I really must be getting back to work."
"No it is most certainly not all!" Hermione nearly shouted. Severus was unable to completely hide the widening of his eyes at her emotional outburst. "Unless you have a good reason not to be there – and by good," she forestalled Severus' attempt to interrupt, "I mean a prior engagement, which you have already told me does not exist, you had better bloody well drag your arse there!"
"Might I suggest you watch your tone, Mrs. Weasely?" Severus said with an undercurrent of venom.
"You might. See if it does you any good." Severus had no response for that. There was a brief silence.
"Look," Hermione continued, more cordially, "this is important to Harry. It's important to all of us. We've invited anyone who is part of our family, anyone who is a friend. Professor, we've counted you as a friend for over twenty years. Harry counts you as a friend. Your absence will not only be noticed, but interpreted quite badly."
"I believe it will merely serve to reinforce a point I am trying to make to Mr. Potter."
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said with distaste.
"I am not being ridiculous," Severus began to heat up. "I am fully aware that Mr. Potter is using this gathering as pretense for a discussion we have been having for quite some time now. I refuse to let it be that. It is insulting – to me, and to his wife's memory."
Hermione's eyes threw daggers. "The only thing that is insulting," she spat with uncharacteristic disdain, "is that you are intent on making this about yourself, when it has absolutely nothing to do with you."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Severus retorted, incensed. The idea that she could think this wasn't about him and Potter's attempt to seduce him just went to show how woefully informed the woman was about her friend's intentions.
"Don't I?" she crossed her arms. "Professor, I am the person to whom Harry has always come to with problems. Always. With Ron, with Ginny, with anyone else whom he quarreled. It has always been me. Do not delude yourself into thinking that his relationship with you escapes that."
Had he not been so wretchedly irate, he would have marveled at her ability to sound remarkably like himself. As it was, he flushed, "I do not know what he has told you, but there is certainly no relationship between us."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course there is. You're friends. At the very least. And it will hurt him, his children, me, and the rest of our family if you are not there. And I believe that Ginny would tear you a new arsehole, too, if she could."
He glared petulantly.
"You will be there. You will stay until I tell you it is acceptable to leave. You will not put on a display of churlishness or any other petty behavior. Do we understand each other?"
"And when have I ever given you the impression that I would yield to demands such as these?"
She stood up with a measured stare and said forcefully, "When you didn't die." And with that, she stepped into the Floo and was gone.
Severus had managed to arrive what he deemed to be 'fashionably late' to the celebration, and had hung on the periphery, as was his custom at gatherings such as these. Hermione kept eyeing him to make sure he toed the line with his behavior, but he soon realized that she had been right. This was not about him. Harry barely even spoke two words to him after he had shaken his hand and thanked him for coming. This didn't insult Severus; it was routine behavior for when he was invited to these sorts of events. But this gave him time to watch. And he watched Harry all night – when he wasn't watching Hermione stare back at him – and noticed how Harry looked. Harry looked healthy. The bags under his eyes were gone; the gaunt look that had pervaded his aura for so many months following the accident had disappeared. In fact, he was laughing most of the night – at stories about Ginny, about Harry and Ginny, about Ginny and the children. By the end of the evening Severus was quite perturbed that he now actually felt he owed it to Harry to consider his request. He doubted it would change anything, but perhaps he could at least ponder it – just to say he had done it.
People finally started to file out, late into the evening. He made eye contact with Hermione once about half the guests were gone, and she nodded tersely, giving her permission for him to leave. He snorted in his head. Hermione giving him permission. Lovely. He was already out the front door, on his way towards the edge of the wards when he heard someone rushing out behind him.
"Severus!" he heard Harry call. Severus turned around, his coat on one arm. "Look, I…I wanted to thank you. For coming. It meant a lot. And I just wanted to say that…well, that I hope I haven't gone and mucked things up too badly – between us. Your friendship – it's important to me. I just wanted to let you know that."
Severus shrugged the other sleeve of his coat onto his arm. He gave Harry a tight nod. He felt an absurd need to fill the void between them with something. "Tonight was…well done. She would have been…quite pleased. And I'm…glad I came. That I was invited. It meant a lot to me, too. Good evening."
He didn't hear Harry go back inside as he walked to the edge of the yard to Apparate away, but Harry didn't say anything else before Severus turned on the spot and was gone.
Severus was lying on his back staring at the sky. It was a beautiful day, he noted absently. His attention was more focused on the person next to him. This person was close enough to him that their arms were touching, and the fingers next to him were tracing patterns lightly on the skin on the back of his hand. It felt so pleasant. Severus felt a breeze and realized they were in some sort of field. He looked to his left, away from the person, and saw tall grass and an array of colored flowers sprinkled about. He began to notice a solid feeling in the center of his stomach – a feeling of utter contentment, something he couldn't ever remember feeling before. He was avidly aware that this feeling was entirely due to the person beside him. Ahhh, he remembered, he had had this dream before. It was always Lily Evans next to him, her green eyes bright with laughter. He turned his head to look at her, this person who made him feel so utterly right. He barely had time to register that this time, the startlingly green eyes stared back at him from behind round glasses and below dark, tangled hair before starting awake, bathed in a cold sweat.
Severus scowled into the pitch black of his room, fingers clenching the sheets as though he meant to do them serious harm.
Un-fucking-believable. Seriously.
Harry decided he had waited long enough. Two weeks had passed since the party, and he had not heard from Severus. The man was impossible, he shook his head internally. He decided to confront the dragon. It wasn't time for Plan B – not quite yet. He seriously didn't want to pull that out of the arsenal.
He skipped the pretense of etiquette and simply Floo'd himself into Severus' quarters one Tuesday afternoon when he'd finished work early. He knew Severus would be teaching, and decided to make himself at home on the couch, conjuring some wine and a book he'd been reading for the past few days. He heard the house elf come through, to check on the intruder, but if it was surprised, it didn't say anything. It was a testament to how non-nervous Harry was that he was able to lose track of time, and he started, his book falling into his lap and flopping closed, as the door shut in the hallway behind him. He quickly removed his leg from the couch where it had been since he sat down. He was pretty sure the conversation would go even worse if Severus discovered he'd had his shoes on the sofa. He also knew that it wouldn't mitigate Severus' anger if he turned around and began the conversation, so he remained facing the fire, acutely aware of the waves of fury rolling off the body behind him when it entered the living room.
"Do you have a death wish?" Severus' voice was low, measured, and unmistakably filled with thinly controlled rage. "As a rule, I usually hex intruders in my quarters."
Without turning to face him, Harry replied, trying to keep his voice even. "Then perhaps you should have invited me in."
Severus swished around the side of the couch in a blinding instant. Still in his teaching robes, he did manage to present quite an intimidating picture: wand out – though his arms were crossed – glaring over the arm of the couch at Harry. Harry finally turned to look at him.
"If I wanted you here, I would have done so." Severus' voice had not lost its animosity.
"This is absurd," Harry finally gave in to an eye roll. "Sit down, Severus."
"These are my quarters! I shall stand if I wish."
Harry cocked his head to the side and gave Severus a look that clearly said, 'Really? Are you really going to be such a prick?'
Severus wanted to huff in frustration, but decided he wouldn't give Harry the pleasure. He stalked over to the nearest armchair and sat down, wand away, but arms still folded tightly across the chest.
"What do you want?" Severus ground out.
"To talk," Harry said simply.
"About what? Pray tell?" Severus said, clearly believing he already knew the answer.
"Oh, I don't know," Harry mused, "how are your classes going? Did you have any luck with the Calming Draughts with the third years? How is the next generation of Weasleys managing to terrorize the school now?"
Severus was caught off guard. Was Harry serious? Was this some sort of mockery? A trap?
"What, you do still teach, right? Are there any students this year who are not 'insufferable dunderheads'?"
"Wha…hm. I suppose there may be a select few who possess some modicum of talent and potential," Severus grudged.
"When do you know?" Harry asked, truly interested. "When can you tell if a student has an aptitude for your subject? For school in general, really?"
Severus thought about it for a moment, "Usually by the end of the first week."
"Of the first year?" Harry was incredulous. "Surely you give them longer than that to prove themselves!"
"It may be difficult to believe, Mr. Potter, but students rarely start out poor and improve. It is usually the other way around. They endeavor to make their first impressions favorable, and then go downhill. If the best they have to offer is in the first week, it is easy to see where they are likely to end up. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule, but they are rare."
"Hmm," Harry mused. "But don't they, I mean, as they get older, learn more, don't they get better? I mean, surely there have to be students that you think are going to be awful, but by third or fourth year manage to be decent."
"You mean like Longbottom? The greatest achievement he managed was failing his O.W.L.S. and dropping my course. Or yourself, perhaps? As I am aware, the only improvement you showed in my subject was when you began using others' brainpower instead of your own. Not a strong support to the point you are trying to make."
Harry had to concede on that one.
Their conversation continued, Harry deftly maneuvering it around topics he knew would keep Severus' interest – current personal potions projects, the Ministry, other professors. In the back of his mind, Harry was quite smug about the whole thing – it was back to how it used to be, the comfortable companionship, the awkwardness gone. Before he knew it, Harry was unable to suppress a yawn.
Severus glanced at the clock. "I didn't realize it had gotten so late."
"Me either. Well, I'm sorry to have kept you so long from your duties. I'm sure you have papers to grade and hallways to stalk." Harry stood up and made his way over to the fireplace.
"I do, but I'm not," Severus paused, "sorry. I'm not sorry you kept me. Or that you came at all, for that matter. Much as I am loathed to admit it, our conversation was pleasantly enjoyable and mostly devoid of discomfort."
"Mostly?" Harry inquired.
"Well, you try coming home to someone sitting, unexpected, on your couch and see how comforted you are."
Harry nodded, "Sorry 'bout that."
Severus waved it off. "I shouldn't have let it come to that."
"No," Harry agreed, "you shouldn't have. Please tell me things are going to be all right now, Severus, between us. I was wrong to push you on the feelings thing. If you don't want it – for whatever reason – well, I'd rather have a great friendship with you than nothing at all."
Feeling amusingly grown up, Severus replied, "So would I, Mr. Potter, so would I. Next time, however, I believe we should pencil our meeting into our schedules."
Harry smiled as he put one foot into the fire after the powder had turned it green. "Don't think I'll forget that."
Severus cocked his head to the side and allowed himself a smirk, "I'm terribly sure you will not."
And with that, Harry was gone.
For the love of all that was holy, Severus thought to himself, if I have another blasted dream tonight, I'm going to have to – what was the Muggle phrase? – oh yes, shoot myself.