Co-written with Stormypups
Beta'd by Rakina
Chapter Eight
Harry groaned as bright light suddenly filled the room. Three days had passed since he had made any attempt to speak to Snape. Too afraid to find out that the conversation about marriage had been real. He was too young! He did not want to get married. He didn't!
A loud tapping noise had him looking at the window of the guest room he was staying in. A disgruntled tawny owl was fluttering in front of the window; in its beak was a simple white envelope. Sighing, Harry swung his legs off the bed and padded over to the window, letting the owl inside.
"Sorry, I haven't got a treat for you," Harry said, taking the note from the owl's beak.
The bird snapped at his fingers, before taking off in irritation. Harry watched it go, before looking down at the envelope. The handwriting wasn't familiar to him. He flipped the envelope over and almost dropped it when he saw the seal.
"Malfoy?"
I humbly request the honor of your company at luncheon today. Please let me know if this would be agreeable.
Yours,
Draco Malfoy
Harry's hands were shaking so badly he dropped the parchment. Snape hadn't been joking. Oh shit, he didn't want to do this. He didn't! Moving in a flurry of flailing limbs, he tore down towards the dungeons, skidding to a halt outside Snape's door. He banged on it repeatedly, hoping that Snape hadn't returned to his own home.
"Is there a reason you're trying to put a hole in my door?" Snape asked, coming up behind Harry.
"Malfoy asked me out," Harry whined.
Snape's snort quickly turned into a chuckle as he pushed past Harry into his quarters. "Wear something nice, he's a bit of a snob."
"I don't own anything nice," Harry stated as he followed Snape in.
"Then you do plan on going?" Snape asked, turning so quickly that Harry nearly walked right into him.
Harry tipped his head back in bewilderment. "I'm allowed to say no?"
"Of course you are," Snape said, making his way to his small sitting room. "Just because people want to get their hands on your money and your name, doesn't mean you have to let them."
"He used my first name," Harry mumbled, sitting down hard on the small couch.
"It must be love," Snape replied sarcastically.
"Should I send a reply or just not show up at all?"
"The choice is up to you. Either way, he won't give up easily."
Harry groaned. He did not want this at all. Malfoy was the first to ask, but Harry was positive he wouldn't be the last. "Would telling him to bugger off make him back down any more than usual?"
"No, but it might make you feel better," Snape answered, smirking. "I was just speaking with Albus; your house is once again fit for habitation."
Harry nodded distractedly. "How many pure-blood families are there?"
"Depends, there are those who claim they are pure-bloods, and there are those that in actuality are pure-bloods. The truth of the matter is, I don't believe there is such a thing as pure-blooded anymore."
Harry looked over at Snape curiously. "What do you mean?"
Snape leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable. "It's a fallacy that there are still wizards who are one hundred percent pureblooded. Oh, they like to claim that they are, but I would wager that there is more than one Muggle mixed into their lines."
"I wouldn't let any of them hear you say that."
"When would you like to move in to your new residence?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't really know. It's nice to know it's there and all, but it's huge and even if I had twenty house elves living there with me...I just don't think I'd like it."
"Do you plan on staying here for the remainder of the summer?" Snape asked. "I rather thought you'd enjoy the freedom of your own estate."
Harry's fingers clenched into the sofa fabric. "It's not that I don't think I'd like it exactly…"
"Then what is the problem?" Snape asked, his brow arched in question.
"Will you come with me?"
"I'll not be your house elf," Snape warned, which merely caused Harry to roll his eyes.
"Not that again."
"As I cannot allow you to go around unprotected, I really have no choice in the matter."
Harry's expression brightened. "So you'll go with me." He exhaled as he bowed his head. "I just really didn't want to go there alone," he admitted in a whisper.
"I need time to put some things in order. We'll leave this afternoon if that is agreeable."
"Very." Harry nodded, and relaxed. "I suppose it would be considered rude to just leave Malfoy dangling. I might hate him, but I don't need him to hate me more than he already does. May I borrow a quill and a piece of parchment?"
Snape nodded toward the small writing desk. "Help yourself. Don't get ink over everything."
Harry got up, and stretched a bit. A cool gust of air prickled his skin causing him to shiver. It took him a moment to realize something very important. "Er...Professor?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"Do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow as well?"
"What on earth for?"
Harry cocked an eyebrow and then looked down at his own bare chest. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet Snape's once more. "I seem to have misplaced my own."
"Then I suggest you find it," Snape said, smirking.
Harry glared. He couldn't say he was entirely surprised either. Deflating, he moved over to the writing desk and picked up a loose piece of parchment and set it before him. Taking up the quill, he scrawled a quick message.
As kind as your offer is, I regret to inform you I cannot make it today.
Sincerely,
Harry J. Potter
PS. I plead that you not ask again, for both our sakes.
Snape watched Harry through hooded eyelids, taking a moment to study him while he was otherwise occupied. The boy was lean, but not scrawny. Well toned, but not overly muscled. He'd even had a nice smattering of hair on his chest, and parts lower. At least he wouldn't feel like a complete pedophilic wretch when the time came for him to take Potter to bed.
"Could you read this over for me?" Harry asked as he turned around.
Snape's eyes snapped up to meet Harry's. He felt as though he had been caught by his father looking at a girlie magazine. It was only an act of sheer will that kept the color from rising in his cheeks as he held out a hand for the parchment.
Harry didn't move for the barest of moments, before he handed over the small note.
Snape read it through and handed it back. "Remove the post script, he'll only take it as a challenge."
"He would. If I didn't know it would be rude, I'd just send the message: 'bugger off'." Harry went back to the writing desk and took out a fresh bit of parchment and copied his letter again, this time without a post script.
"Nothing wrong with being direct," Snape replied.
"Yes, but going to the press just to undermine me wouldn't be beneath him." Harry shot a glance over his shoulder. "And yes, I do think things out sometimes."
Snape nodded in acknowledgment, conceding the point. "It's only the first of many missives you'll receive asking for your attention. I'm sure you'll have no problem finding someone to shag, as they say."
Snape didn't know why he kept harping on the point, but the words were already out.
"I'm not looking for a shag, Snape."
"The perhaps you should look for your shirt and leave me in peace."
Harry rolled his eyes. "When will you be ready to leave?"
"I have potions that need at least four more hours to stew. Find me then."
"See you in four hours then." Harry, barefoot, bare-chested and cold, left Snape's rooms feeling less than accomplished. He did feel better about the current situation though.
Snape sat in his chair, staring at the wall lost in thought for a long moment before forcing himself to his feet. He had work to do and things to accomplish before joining Potter at the manor.
Harry paced his room, back and forth, toe heel, toe heel, pivot, heel toe, heel toe. He must have completed the circuit twenty times before he came to a halt. His gaze roamed around the well lit room, landing on the various bits of furniture. Nothing was out of place, yet he felt restless.
The sound of an owl tapping on his window almost made him jump. Muttering angrily at himself for being on edge, he opened the window and let the owl inside.
"If it's another invitation for a date you might as well take it back," Harry told the owl as it settled onto the back of one of the chairs.
He grabbed the note from its beak and opened it.
I do apologize if my invitation came as a shock, perhaps you need more time to think about it? I sincerely hope that you will change your mind. I know that our past interactions may be clouding your opinion of me, and I would desperately love the opportunity to show myself in a more favorable light. War, after all, changes a man.
Devotedly Yours,
Draco Malfoy
"Devotedly yours?" Harry repeated, dumbstruck.
The owl nipped him on the ear. "Prat wants a response right away, does he?" Harry went to his trunk and dug out a wrinkled bit of parchment along with his quill.
Put down the thesaurus and read my lips. I am not interested.
Affectionately and peeved,
Harry
Smiling, Harry rolled up the parchment and handed it to the waiting owl. "No offense, but if you return with another note from Malfoy, you might end up losing a few feathers."
With an outraged hoot, the bird flew off.
"More fan mail?"
Harry whirled around, his smile still in place. Snape's head was bobbing in the fireplace.
"Another letter from Malfoy."
"I told you he wouldn't give up easily. Are you ready to depart?" Snape asked. Snape was of the opinion that Muggles had it right using telephones. Kneeling in a fireplace was hard on the knees.
"Yes, sir. I didn't have much to pack anyway." Harry lifted the small bag with a half-hearted shrug. "By the way, I think I left the journal down in your rooms, have you seen it?"
"For someone who has admittedly few things, you should be more careful with your possessions," Snape replied. "I do, indeed, have it." And it had been frustrating to be unable to read it without Potter holding it.
Harry let out a sigh of relief. "I've been kicking myself over it for two days now."
"Get your things and meet me in the entrance hall." Snape's head disappeared from the flames.
Harry shook his head and pulled the bag over his shoulder. As he walked through the corridors he thought about the past two weeks and wondered how everything had managed to get turned around so easily. A small part of him was worrying about Remus and what he was doing for the Order still since the War was over. Harry wasn't dense enough to believe the rumors that all the Death Eaters were captured or dead, but he did not like the idea of Remus going after information on their locations alone.
Snape was waiting impatiently in the Great Hall, a small bag in his hand.
"That's all you're bringing?" Harry asked, suddenly afraid Snape was only going to stay the first night, then leave him to fend for himself.
"Shrinking spell. You did attend this school for six years, did you not?"
"I was too busy trying to get myself killed," Harry said cheekily. "Remember?"
"How could I forget," Snape answered, giving Harry a look he'd seen all too often.
"Are there still people sitting around the gate?" Harry asked, peeking his head outside the door.
"Doesn't matter, we'll be going into the Forbidden Forest and Apparating from there, unless his Lordship has any objections?"
"It's illegal?" Harry ventured.
"And that has stopped you before? I'll be Apparating the two of us. It wouldn't do for the King to be fined by the Ministry, now would it?"
"What's with all the 'King' and 'Lordship' bullshit?" Harry asked.
"It amuses me," Snape said, exiting the castle.
"Of course it does." Harry followed a few steps behind Snape, ignoring all the calls from the front gate that could be heard clearly echoing around the grounds. Not for the first time since the Ministry had run the article on him, he wanted to go to the Ministry and wring the neck of the idiot who'd published the story.
They walked in silence through the Forbidden Forest. Snape didn't seem the least bit bothered, but Harry couldn't help feeling a little wary of his surroundings. They finally reached the Apparation border. Snape stopped and looked at Harry.
Harry quirked a brow, uncertain what Snape wanted him to do. He shifted, tension in his body making him jumpy and nervous. He felt very much like he was running away, something he wasn't used to doing.
"What?" he snapped, unable to restrain himself.
Snape held out his hand. "I can't Apparate us both with you standing over there," Snape said calmly.
Harry gazed at the offered hand with skepticism. "Why couldn't we just get another Portkey?"
"Do you really want the Ministry to know why you need a Portkey?" Snape asked, losing patience.
"Er...no."
"And yet we're still standing here. Waiting. For you."
Harry scowled and grabbed Snape's hand, stepping closer.
Rolling his eyes, Snape pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around Harry and Apparating them away. They reappeared on the lane outside of the manor house.
Harry pulled back abruptly, confusion scrawled over his face. "Did you have to hug me?"
"Just what are you accusing me of, Potter?" Snape asked, eyes narrowing.
"Hugging," Harry replied with a small scowl.
"Imbecile," Snape said, turning and walking up the lane to the house. "You think too highly of yourself, Potter," he called over his shoulder.
Harry chased after him, still frowning. "I've never done side-along Apparation before. It was weird."
"Get your license and it won't be a problem," Snape said, standing next to the door and waiting for Harry to open it.
"How?" Harry asked, gripping the knob and sparing a thought about the lack of rust there. "I'm afraid to go out on Hogwarts grounds let alone to the Ministry."
"I daresay we can arrange for something out of the public eye."
Harry opened the door and stepped inside. He inhaled deeply, smiling as he breathed fresh air. "We?"
"If you'd rather handle it on your own, so be it," Snape said, shrugging as if it didn't matter. He followed Harry inside and looked around. "At least it smells better."
Harry nodded, entering the house with a great deal more caution than he supposed it deserved. After all, it wasn't like his family was in any way connected with the Dark Arts. Nothing was going to leap out at him in the very clean house.
His gaze shifted along the no longer dusty interior, and a glance at the floor revealed his own reflection gaping back at him. Light seemed to permeate from the walls infusing the whole house with a warm glow.
Snape studied Harry as he took in his surroundings. He couldn't tell if the boy was awed, afraid, or both. "I'm going to find a bedroom," Snape said, brushing past Harry to the stairway.
Harry nodded distractedly as he continued his journey through the inviting entry hall.
Snape made his way upstairs, sparing a glare at the mysterious figure still standing just outside the frame of his portrait. He found one of the smaller rooms and claimed it as his own. He unpacked his small suitcase, hanging up his robes in the large, stand-alone cupboard.
There was a stone basin on the bedside table. He spelled it full of water, idly wondering if the house elves had done anything about updating the plumbing system. If not, he would have to do it himself, and it was a rather laborious process. He would have to acquire one of those 'Do It Yourself' books.
Joy.
He dipped his fingers in the cool water and splashed a bit against his face already feeling better. Sparing another glance around the interior of the room, Snape headed back to the stairwell and stopped before the same portrait that had caught his eye the first time.
"Are you going to show yourself, or continue playing games?" he asked irritably.
Getting no response, he went in search of Harry.
It wasn't too hard to find him. Finding a sitting room just off the side of the stairs, Snape stood in the entrance. He watched as Harry gazed up unseeingly at a portrait and then he heard Harry's soft sob. "Mum?"
"Potter?" Snape asked, entering the room. There was no response. He moved to stand in front of Harry, grasping him by the shoulders. "Potter!" he said, louder.
Harry gasped, tipping his head back. His eyes locked with Snape's and he exhaled, trembling, and closed his eyes.
"What is it?" Snape asked softly.
"I thought...I thought I saw my mum, but..."
"In the portrait?" Snape asked, confused.
Harry nodded, his eyes opening again.
Snape stepped away from Harry and studied the portrait. "These portraits are hiding something," he murmured, studying the empty frame.
"I wish I knew why," Harry mumbled, staring at the blank canvas dejectedly.
"You are the King. Order them to show themselves."
"Oh please, if I did that and someone did show up they'd laugh at me."
"Then we shall wait them out," Severus said, eyeing the portrait. "Or burn them out," he added more loudly.
"You can remove these things?" Harry asked in shock, thinking about Sirius' mum.
"Yes," Severus replied, an evil smirk on his face. "If you're thinking of Black's obnoxious mother, her portrait was ensconced in Dark Magic. I doubt your ancestors did the same." He moved to stand in front of the empty frame. "They are quite destructible," he added, pleased to see a bit of movement at the side of the frame.
Harry nodded. "Have you noticed for the most part they're all empty?"
"Yes, but I've also noticed that often, they are just out of frame. Listening."
At that moment, a small stocky man dressed in a black suit coat stumbled into the frame. He glared at someone outside of the frame before turning his attention to Harry and Snape.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing deeply to Harry. "My Lord," he added, bowing slightly to Snape.
"About bloody time," Snape groused at the man.
"I have been elected to inform you that the portraits are currently in a meeting and unable to meet with you at this time. I have also been asked to relay the fact that we would be rather displeased were you to burn, cut, mangle or mutilate our canvas. Good day." The little man bowed, and then ran out of the frame before either man could respond.
Harry's mouth had dropped open somewhere around the words 'My Lord' and it stayed that way until Snape snorted.
"That was--" Harry began, unable to find a word to describe what he was feeling.
"Bizarre," Snape finished. "Portraits with attitudes."
"I don't know. At least that one didn't seem like the brainless ones back in Hogwarts."
"Sir Cadogan would be pleased to hear that. I'm sure he would challenge you to a duel for the slight. If he could find his sword or his bloody horse."
Harry grinned and shook his head. "As long as none of these scream like Mrs. Black, I don't care what type of attitude they have."