Rating: M
Warnings: Slash, swearing, infidelity, ignores epilogue, probably a bit OOC
Pairings: SS/HP and HP/GW
Genres: Romance, Drama, Angst
Summary: Harry's engaged to Ginny, but then along comes Severus Snape. SLASH, SS/HP, POST DH
Chapter Five: Flying
"What's it like? Being able to fly?"
It was late April and Harry Potter was once more stretched out across the sofa, butterbeer in hand and a frown upon his face. He looked curiously over at Severus, who drummed his fingers on the side of his own drink. He stared down into the amber depths of the glass and decided how best to answer the question.
"It's both a curse and a blessing," he said after a while, bringing the drink up to his lips.
"Really?" Harry sounded surprised. "I think it's pretty cool."
Severus snorted and looked at him.
"Would you think it 'cool' if you were reminded of the Dark Lord every time you did it?" he asked.
Harry had the decency to look sheepish.
"Sorry," he murmured. "I didn't think."
Severus gave a deep, un-amused laugh and downed the rest of his drink with a grimace. He set the empty glass aside and sat back in his chair, studying Harry. He was sat across from Severus, dressed in blue work robes and looking utterly tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was messier than ever and Severus couldn't help but wonder why their Friday meeting had gone ahead when it was obvious the man in front of him had had a long day.
A lot had changed in the five years that had passed since the war and Harry was no exception…and yet, at the same time, he was; he was different, but he was also the same person he'd been at Hogwarts. He was strong and wise, quite capable of being level-headed, but he was still full of that boyish naivety that had been behind so many of his inane ideas. Severus hated the naïve – it was a weakness, a quick road to being truly gullible – but the title seemed to sit comfortably with Harry and he carried it well.
He watched Harry take a swig from the can in his hand and decided to continue, if only to humour the other man.
"It's unnatural," he said. "Flying," he added, in answer to Harry's puzzled look. "Humans shouldn't be able to fly like that."
"Yeah, but we're wizards," said Harry. "Maybe it's just…I dunno…evolution or something."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Evolution?"
"Well whatever it is, it can't be Dark Magic, right? It seems too…" Harry broke off, struggling to find the right word. He gave a frown and glanced around the room. "If he could do it," he said, nodding towards the portrait of Dumbledore, "If he had been the one to teach you how to fly, would you feel the way you do now?"
Severus shook his head dismissively. "It still doesn't change the fact that it's unnatural."
"But does it feel unnatural?" Harry asked. "Doesn't it feel good? At all?"
Severus sighed and brought a hand to his temple. Honestly, the things he put up with…
"I'm not going to say it feels dreadful because it doesn't," he said heavily. "In fact, it feels incredible. But then I remember why I can do it; the Dark Lord taught me, a maniac who wanted to be as unique and as twisted as he could possibly be."
"Flying doesn't seem to be twisted though," Harry said. "If anything, it's one of those things people wish they could do…gliding effortlessly through the sky without danger, feeling completely free…it's a whole other kind of magic really."
Severus grunted. "It isn't without its dangers, I assure you, and it requires a great deal of effort. And as for feeling 'completely free', I'd say it's the exact opposite, the amount of concentration it takes."
Harry's eyebrows lowered into a frown. "Superman can do it and Lois always loved it when she went flying with him."
Severus let out a bark of laughter. "Superman? I thought you were an Auror, Potter. Spare me, please."
Harry just shrugged and downed his drink.
On the way home from work a week later it suddenly occurred to Harry that he was actually enjoying Snape's company. True, he seemed to be just as miserable and short-tempered as ever, but there was something else lurking beneath the surface that Harry had never seen at school – or, more accurately perhaps, had never bothered to see at school. Severus Snape had a sense of humour; it was subtle and it was dry, but it was there nonetheless.
He couldn't successfully explain to himself why he looked forward to seeing Snape each week. Maybe it had something to do with the connection he had to Harry's parents? Maybe it was because of the change of pace the meetings had brought to Harry's life? He was very fortunate to have a lovely home and loving fiancé, but things did tend to get a little monotonous every now and then.
And Snape did seem to be enjoying himself as well. OK, perhaps 'enjoying' was the wrong word, for all Harry ever managed to get out of the man was sarcastic laughter, sniggers, and raised eyebrows. But he hadn't yet kicked Harry out of his home and that definitely had to count for something.
The bus turned a corner and pulled into a quiet street. Harry got up from his seat and pressed the bell, waiting for the bus to stop. It hadn't been a hard day that had triggered the desire to travel home the muggle way; rather, he'd just wanted time to think, to gather his thoughts.
The bus slowed to a halt and the doors opened. As he hopped down the step onto the pavement he pulled the hood of his coat (transfigured from his cloak) up over his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets before setting off down the road.
He was still surprised at how well he was getting on with Snape and he wasn't sure if that worried him or not. Even though Snape was still capable of being just as frightening as he had been at Hogwarts, there was something about the way in which he had let Harry into his life…like all the fight had gone out of him, like he'd just given up. Maybe Snape really was lonely and was glad of the company? Or was there more to it than that? Had he truly given in to the point where sharing a drink with Harry was preferable to the life he was living?
Harry shook the thoughts from his head as he rounded a corner and climbed the few stones steps to his front door. He was just being paranoid, as usual. Snape had been a Death Eater and a spy after all – the man was made of the strong stuff.
He opened the door and toed of his shoes, transfigured his coat back into a cloak and hung it up.
"I'm back!" he called. He made his way into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair. The smell of cooking food reached his nose and his stomach grumbled.
"Hey honey," Ginny's cheerful voice rang out. He looked round and saw her stood at the fridge. "You're just in time. Pie and chips is in the oven."
"Molly's chicken and ham?" he asked hopefully.
"Yup," she smiled. She pulled out a large carton of pumpkin juice and filled two glasses, which she then placed on the table. "And speaking of my mother…she wants us round for tea on Friday. She said she's got some new recipes she wants to try out."
Harry looked up.
After all of her children had finally left home, Molly had become quite restless. It was understandable seeing as how she'd spent over half her life as a fulltime housewife and mother. Of course, she now had Victoire, Teddy, and baby Molly to dote upon but it just wasn't the same. With an empty home, Molly had thrown herself into her cooking and she and Andromeda were thinking of starting their own business – maybe a café or a catering company. Arthur secretly liked to call it "The Grandma Club" but he was one hundred percent supportive – after all, it kept his wife busy and away from his shed of muggle tools and appliances.
Food at The Burrow was always delicious, but still…Friday.
"I'm sorry Gin, but I can't," he said. "I have plans on Friday."
"You always have plans on Friday," she said, looking sour. "If I didn't trust you so much I'd be worried you were having an affair."
"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head, "believe me, it's nothing like that."
"But you're up to something. What's so important that everything else can take a backseat?"
Harry bit his lip and looked down at the wooden table.
He'd been meeting Snape for over two months and still he hadn't told anyone. His reasons? He'd wanted a secret, something of his own; he'd wanted Snape to trust him and so had kept quiet about his whereabouts; he hadn't wanted to hear what his friends had to say on the matter for surely they would be against it. And what if they had wanted to come along? Harry was pretty sure that Snape would be angry if he brought his friends with him to ogle the Professor as if he was some poor creature in a zoo. But mostly it had been instinct – when he had first decided to stay quiet about his meetings with Snape, none of that had entered his mind. He simply hadn't wanted to tell anyone – the rest of his reasons were merely excuses that had formed in his mind at a later date.
But if Ginny had affairs and mischief on her mind…
"I've been meeting Snape," he said, looking back up at her. Her eyes grew wide.
"Professor Snape?" she asked. Harry nodded. "But…why?"
"I don't know, Gin," he sighed. "I just bumped into him one day and decided I wanted a few answers. He's actually a decent guy once you get to know him."
"I don't understand. You hate him."
"I haven't said a bad word about him in five years," he pointed out. "He's a hero, Gin, you know that. He went through Hell, not able to live his life the way he wanted."
Her eyes narrowed as her lips thinned. "And what about Fred and George?" she demanded. "Look what he did to them!"
"The Death Eaters wanted him to kill George! In cursing off his ear he made it look like he'd missed."
"Shame he didn't do the same for Fred then!" she shouted.
Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily. Some of the Weasleys – George, Ron, and Ginny in particular – blamed Snape for the death of their brother. At first, Harry had been sympathetic and had put it down to grief. When it had become apparent that the blame was going to stick, however, Harry had done his best to explain that Snape had had nothing to do with it – he hadn't been the one to blast down the wall; he hadn't even been in the grounds, but in the Shack with Voldemort. It didn't matter though; in their eyes, Snape had been the one lying to them and if they had only known the truth, known what Snape and Dumbledore had been up to, then Fred's death could have been prevented. Harry had pointed out that they still would have ended up fighting a battle, the wall still would have collapsed, but they had only listened half heartedly.
"Ginny," he said slowly, "he didn't kill him. It wasn't his fault."
"But he didn't do anything to stop it, did he?" she snapped.
"How could he have done? There were spells flying all over the place!"
She folded her arms and turned her face away from Harry, quietly seething. Harry thought it best to leave her alone. He got up and went over to the cooker to check on the pie and chips. They looked a little overdone, but still very much edible, so he pulled them out with the oven glove, cut the pie in half, and served.
Neither of them spoke again for a good ten minutes. By the time Ginny had calmed down enough to continue the conversation, Harry had almost finished his meal.
"So Snape is more important then dinner with my family?"
Harry fought from groaning his frustration.
"It's not that," he assured her. "It's just Snape and I meet every Friday, it's our thing now, and you know how I hate cancelling."
"You don't seem to mind cancelling on me and my parents," she said coolly.
"I'm not cancelling," he told her. "I already had arrangements with Snape. They were made first."
"So we're never allowed to do anything on Fridays? You know, you could try and be more accommodating. Don't you think my family is more important right now, seeing as how they're going to be your in-laws?"
"Look," he snapped, slamming down his fork, "I'm trying, OK? I'm sorry there's not enough of me to go around but that's just the way life is!"
He glared at her, breathing hard, and she glared back. He was close to losing his temper. Why didn't she understand that Snape was his friend?
He looked away from her quickly and busied himself with tidying his dirty plate away without magic. He strode over to the sink and turned on the taps with a shaky hand.
He felt awful, his body flooded with shame. Why had he snapped at her like that? It wasn't her fault that she wanted him to have a meal with her family. If Harry's parents were here he would have been doing the same, delighting that they were getting on so well with his fiancé. He supposed that was how Ginny felt. Of course, Harry had always gotten on with the Weasleys, but that wasn't the point.
Ginny was his fiancé. She was his priority.
But Severus…
He shut off the taps and turned to Ginny. She was still sat at the table, her back to him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to get angry like that."
When she didn't reply, he walked back over to her. He sat down next to her and stroked a hand through her long hair.
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
Slowly, she turned to him with a small smile on her face. He was relieved to see that there weren't any tears – tears from Ginny meant trouble as she had never been one to cry easily.
"I know," she said. She leaned in and gave him a kiss. "I guess we can postpone the dinner. It is Teddy's birthday on the Saturday anyway so it's not like we aren't going to see them."
Something else jolted through Harry.
"Teddy's birthday! I completely forgot!"
Ginny laughed, argument forgotten, and kissed him again before getting to her feet.
"Don't worry," she said. "I've already bought him a toy broomstick and a bag of those glow-in-the-dark fish stickers he loves so much. Like he needs anymore, his room's like a bloody aquarium."
Friday was the same as ever. After a long day at work, he Apparated to Godric's Hollow and enjoyed wine, conversation, and a meal at Snape's house.
He listened as Snape complained at length about his neighbours, saying how nosy they were and how eager they all were to see Harry again, maybe take a picture or two. In turn, Snape listened to Harry go on about work and how much he missed being one of the normal scarlet clad Aurors instead of the Head – he didn't hate it as such, he just didn't like making all the decisions. Snape assured him he would grow into it and that was that.
Harry and Ginny had made up and everything was pretty much the same as ever. They didn't talk about Snape but they didn't need to – they each knew where the other stood on the matter and that was fine, as long as it didn't cause arguments. As they walked up the garden path, hand in hand, to Andromeda's cottage, Harry felt very much at peace with the world.
He knocked on the door and stood back, waiting. Seconds later, the door swung open and a small, green-haired boy with bright purple eyes smiled up at them.
"Uncle Harry!" he cried in excitement, flinging himself at the older man.
Harry laughed and bent down to pull his godson into a hug.
"Happy Birthday, Teddy," he said. "How old are you now? Nineteen? Twenty?"
Ted laughed and wriggled round so he could look up at Harry.
"I'm five," he said happily, holding up his hand.
"Five? Wow, you're tall for your age," Harry said, staring down at the small boy who didn't even reach his stomach. He'd always been quite small but they liked to humour him.
Teddy laughed again. "It's all vegetables Grandma feeds me. She says if I eat sprouts I will sprout up!" And he reached for Harry's hand and led him into the house.
The living room was decorated with cards and banners and the floor was littered with wrapping paper. As Ginny handed Teddy his presents, Harry saw Andromeda hurrying towards them.
"Harry, love, how are you?" she beamed, giving him a quick hug.
"I'm good," he smiled. "But you look a little rushed off your feet. Can I help with anything?"
"That's OK," she said, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes, "Molly, Fleur, and I have everything under control. Arthur was here a minute ago, I don't know where he's stuck off to though…messing around with those bloody muggle contraptions no doubt – oh, Teddy, look at that!" she exclaimed brightly as Ted unwrapped his present. "Your very own broomstick!"
"Thank you Uncle Harry! Thank you Auntie Ginny!"
"That's no problem at all," Ginny said, giving him a kiss on the head.
As Andromeda scuttled back off to the kitchen, Harry and Ginny followed Teddy out into the back garden where all the other guests were seated. Chairs were scattered all over the place as well as tables that were crammed full of party food; there were crisps, sausage rolls, slices of pizza, quiches, chocolate biscuits, jelly, ice-cream, marshmallows, sandwiches, chicken drumsticks, icing-covered doughnuts, fairy cakes, and, at the back, carrot sticks, celery, and sprouts.
Harry rolled his eyes and went over to greet everyone.
Bill looked healthy despite his scaring, as did George without his ear, which his long hair now covered. Percy was sat in the corner next to his wife who was cradling their baby and Ron and Hermione were stood next to them, lost in conversation. A few of the neighbours were dotted around the garden as their children ran around, stuffing their faces with food.
After he'd done the rounds, he sat down in one of the many chairs provided and popped a biscuit into his mouth. After a few moments, Ron and Hermione joined him.
"It's been over a month since I've seen you," Hermione complained at once, dropping into a seat next to him. "How are you?"
"I'm good," he said, smiling at her. "And how are you? You're looking very lovely. Is that a new dress?"
Hermione beamed at him before turning to hit Ron on the arm.
"See?" she said, "Harry noticed!"
Harry ginned over her head at Ron, who sunk into his chair.
"Uncle Harry, Uncle Harry!"
Harry looked round, once more, and saw a small, silvery-blonde haired girl wearing a sparkly pink dress running towards him.
"Hello, Victoire," he smiled.
"Do you like my dress?" she asked, giving a twirl. "Mummy got it for me. Grandpa says I look like a muggle princess!"
"You look very lovely," Hermione said with a smile.
"Teddy said I look like a marshmallow," she told them. "He kept throwing them at me before."
"Well, that's boys for you," said Hermione.
"Boys are smelly," Victoire agreed.
"No we're not," said Teddy, coming over to the small group. "You smell of marshmallows."
"I do not."
"You smell of bogey flavoured beans."
"Mummy says I smell like an angel."
"Do not," said Teddy and he stuck his finger up his nose, pulled it out, and pointed it at Victoire.
"Daddy!" she screamed. "Daddy, Teddy's wiping his bogeys on me!"
The rest of the afternoon was spent eating, dancing, and playing party games. Teddy was very happy about all the presents he'd received; he kept getting them out to show everyone and Andromeda kept putting them away so no one would fall over them. They sang 'Happy Birthday' and ate the fish-shaped cake (which, thankfully, tasted like strawberries, sponge, and cream) and as the others were clearing up, Harry took Teddy flying on his new toy broomstick.
By the time they got home, Harry was exhausted. He'd forgotten how much of a handful children could be, especially at parties when they were all hyped up on sugar.
He knew Ginny wanted to become a mother one day, and Harry wasn't opposed to the idea of becoming a father, but right now he was more than happy to just be Teddy's godfather and let that be practice enough. There would be plenty of time to think about babies once he was married.
And so he snuggled into his pillow and drifted off to sleep, his mind soaring in the clouds above as he flew through the sky on his broomstick. But then the broom disappeared and he suddenly found himself in Snape's arms as they glided over the sea, effortlessly, weightlessly, and when he woke up the next morning he had no memory of dreaming.
A/N: Thank you for the reviews. The next update may take longer than usual as I'm going to France for my birthday. I'll try my best to get it posted before I go though.
xx