CHAPTER 15

A/N: Lots of hugs to you wonderful reviewers! The Pet Shop Boys who are mentioned in this chapter do exist. They rock :-D. Helianthus annuus is the Latin term for "sunflower".

Now, for those of you who asked questions:

ColdomadeusX: Dumbledore doesn't have any piercings…but I do wonder whether that scar which resembles the London Underground may not actually be a tattoo…Harry won't go goth on anyone, but he'll go sexy on…someone.

LynnGryphon: Yes, Snape's piano will be one of the things which bring him and Harry closer.

Chibeh: Harry won't learn how to play the piano. Yet.

Chibi Tsuki Hikari: I am afraid Harry will remain healthy and fit, but towards the end there may be some violence, so…never say never…

LilyJames addict: Harry will sing again, but you've got to wait a little.

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Harry took his Invisibility Cloak just in case, but everyone was friendly to him again since he had kept his word and issued an apology in The Daily Prophet. His locker was thankfully empty, allowing him to stow away his cloak and bag. This time, he was wearing one of Mrs Weasley's hand-knitted sweaters and yet another pair of blue jeans. His hair was attractively messy, and his new emerald stud sparkled in his ear. Taking his pass-coin, he sauntered over to Wizard's Blizzards, was admitted and went up to the bar to order a drink. Music by the Pet Shop Boys was playing. To his surprise, he found himself face to face with Severus Snape. He was wearing black open robes which shimmered slightly when he moved, and tight black trousers. His hair was very sleek, falling silkily down his back and shoulders.

"Potter," the irritable wizard said resignedly.

"Severus. A pleasant surprise to meet you outside your office and mine for a change."

"It's not as if we have not met here before, Potter," Snape remarked nastily, reminding him of their shameful scuffle.

Harry reddened; but he said cheerfully:

"Let me make it up to you for hexing your hair. Allow me to buy you a drink."

Snape raised his eyebrows and studied Harry's face closely, as if to make sure that Harry was not harbouring other intentions.

"Well, as long as I don't have to pay," he said with exquisite rudeness. Harry managed not to look flustered as he asked Snape what he wanted to drink and ordered the beverages (two Butterbeers – minus the addition of aphrodisiacs). The barkeeper looked at them suspiciously. He obviously recognised them from the fiasco they had caused.

"Please don't destroy anything again, gentlemen," he said in a strict voice.

"Oh no, our issue is settled," Harry said hastily as he paid for the Butterbeers.

"Excellent."

The Butterbeers were brought and placed on a tray.

"Which table, sir?" a waiter asked Snape.

Snape indicated the table of his choice. It was in the corner, away from the attention and noise.

Once ensconced, Harry realised that he was strangely nervous and fidgety.

He raised his glass of Butterbeer.

"To our collaboration and the Duelling Club," he said.

Snape snorted.

"Since you insist on this ridiculous toasting custom, Potter…"

He reluctantly raised his glass, clinked it as quickly as possible with Harry's and sipped his drink. Like last night, Harry could not help studying Snape's sharp features. As Harry had noted before, he was neither repulsive nor especially handsome; but there was something striking, even attractive about him. Alertness and restlessness were constantly written upon the pale thin face, and the eyes, now studying a picture on the wall behind Harry, were large, full and so black that it was nearly impossible to distinguish the pupils from the irises. The hand which held the glass was a hand specially trained in touching and analysing objects and their properties, taking them apart and putting them back together.

The silence between Harry and Snape was becoming tense when a wizard put his hand on Snape's shoulder. Harry recognised him at once. It was the auburn-haired youth who had left Snape standing in the rain. Naturally, he pretended that he had never seen him before. Snape turned.

"Snape," the wizard said, acknowledging Harry's presence with a brief nod.

"I'm finished here," Snape said unceremoniously, rising. Without thanking Harry or looking at him, he left.

Harry felt a strange twinge in the depths of his stomach. Something like…annoyance. And indeed, he was a bit put out. He had bought Snape a drink and been abandoned within five minutes without a word of thanks. And why on earth was he on speaking terms with a wizard who had insulted him? Snape was a man who bore grudges for ages and who was not only proud but also downright arrogant. Harry shut his eyes in horror at what he was going to do.

"Invisibility Cloak," he muttered.

He followed the men out of the club, located the dustbins at once and, feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself for being such a sneaky spy, crouched behind the metal containers.

"So. You changed your mind."

"Yes. No strings attached," Snape replied glacially.

"Fine."

"You're attractive enough when you want to be," the auburn-haired wizard laughed.

Snape grabbed him and pressed him against the wall with his body, his hands pinning the young man's wrists above his head. He was not in the least perturbed by Snape's action:

"Man, you really need it, don't you?"

Snape kissed him brutally.

Harry swallowed as the youth rubbed his hips suggestively against Snape's. It was time to leave. He fled, this time without knocking anything over and having to consequently dislodge someone from the toilet by Misapparating.

His table was still free when he came back, breathing fast. So Snape was sexually frustrated enough to agree to a fling or flings with another wizard. Harry reflected gloomily. What with spying for Dumbledore, teaching etc., Snape must have had no time at all to attend to his basic needs. And why did he, Harry, feel so cross about it all? It was Snape's life and Snape's business.

He hastily finished the remainder of his Butterbeer and left the bar. In his rooms, he scrabbled around frantically and finally found what he was searching for: a Muggle dictaphone. Harry attached a device to it which would enable it to filter and operate on the magic which was omnipresent in the castle. Harry stuffed a cassette into the dictaphone and pressed the recording button. He raised the little machine to his lips, speaking into the microphone.

"It is nearly the end of September. It's a cold Monday evening. And I haven't spoken on tape for a very long time. Now I feel that I have to do so. I have to speak about my ex-teacher, and currently fellow-teacher, Severus Snape."

Harry rose to his feet and went over to the window. Hedwig followed him with her enormous round eyes. As if sensing that he was upset, she flew down to him and nestled against his arm. He smiled and stroked her affectionately.

"I wonder a lot about you, Severus Snape. Gosh, I sound stupid and ridiculous." He laughed. "But then, I am a stupid and ridiculous teenager, after all. Well, let's continue with this monologue. Well, Severus, I wonder how you can go back to a wizard who insulted you. I ask myself whether you laugh, or have ever laughed from your heart, whether you have ever had a truly happy moment in your life."

Harry spoke for nearly forty minutes, finishing a few seconds before it was time to remove the cassette and turn it the other way round. Hedwig and the night listened to him patiently as he mused about Snape's various facets of character.

"I think…I am starting to feel something which I shouldn't feel for you because I know it would be completely unwanted. I want to get close to you, find a way through the walls you have built around you, but you won't let anyone in. Least of all me, the son of the man you hated," Harry concluded. He pressed the stop button.

"I feel better now," he said to Hedwig. She hooted in a comforting manner, nibbled gently at his fingers and tapped at the window. He opened it and she flew out into the night.

"Take care, Hedwig," he called after her.

He removed his home-sneakers and walked around barefoot, searching for his dominoes. He located them on an untidy shelf and started setting them up in the shape of a gigantic S.

The next morning, Snape was in a terrible mood, worse than ever. His eyes flashed fire and he walked into the Great Hall with clenched fists and teeth. He pushed roughly past Flitwick, who nearly fell over with a squeak, and did not bother to apologise to McGonagall when he stepped on the heel of her shoe. Dumbledore's eyes stopped twinkling and something sad crept into them as he watched the Potions Master brutally drag a chair over to the table and sit down.

Breakfast was a jolly meal for the students and for most of the teachers, but not for Harry, Dumbledore or Snape. Harry made an effort to chat merrily with Hagrid, who was wondering about more effective methods of crating Blast-Ended Skrewts and was relieved when breakfast was over. When he saw Snape get up, he rose too, excusing himself. He hurried after him, and in the corridor, called his name.

Snape whirled around.

"What is it, Potter?" he snapped.

Harry approached him, feeling for something in his pocket.

"Here. Take them. They help when I'm feeling down. They really do." He smiled and poured some sunflower seeds into Snape's hand.

Snape snarled:

"If this is some idiotic joke-"

"It is not. I-" he hesitated, not wanting to reveal that he knew about Snape and the auburn-haired wizard, whose arrangement had apparently gone terribly wrong.

"I haven't got all day, Potter. Spit it out before I fling this stupid birdfeed in your face."

Harry locked eyes with Snape.

"During the last stage of the battle against Voldemort, when everything seemed dark and suffocating, Hermione told me that sunflowers always attempt to turn towards the sun, regardless of the weather. I know how silly and banal it sounds to you, but-" here he placed his hand on Snape's arm "-it helps when you think of it."

Snape studied him with an expressionless face.

"And why are you telling me this? Why would you care, famous Potter?"

"I never liked fame, Severus. And I care because I am working with you now like I worked with you during the battle. I care because you have saved my life more than once. And I care because I know what it is like to have no friends or a proper family."

Harry wanted to say more but was did not wish to risk cross a potentially dangerous border. The unspoken message, I know that you are suffering and I am not indifferent to it, was transmitted with his eyes instead. He took a deep breath, pressed Snape's arm gently and walked away.

Snape stared. Then he opened his fist and looked at the sunflower seeds. His eyes shifted to Harry's retreating back. He transferred the seeds to an inside pocket.

"Severus? Is something wrong, my boy?" Dumbledore was standing at his elbow, his blue gaze x-raying Snape.

"I'm fine, Albus," Snape said shortly and left. Dumbledore bent and picked up something from the floor.

It was a sunflower seed. Dumbledore suddenly smiled, and it was an optimistic smile.

That evening, Alexander, Snape's owl, fluttered into Harry's rooms with a tiny note. Harry laughed when he read the following succinct sentence:

I regard "Helianthus" as an adequate name for the Duelling Club, Potter.

Severus Snape

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