Potter.
Potter was in his city.
With a snarl Severus kicked over the suitcase he had been glaring at. He refused to flee like a dog with its tail between its legs just because insufferable Saint Potter had shown up in Tübingen! The brat was likely just passing through, anyhow – after all, there were no fans in the Muggle community, he thought with a sneer. Striding out of his apartment, Severus decided furiously that he certainly wasn't going to give up his home for James Potter's spawn.
Later, Severus wondered why the man – for he was one, now – hadn't approached him after the service. He had lingered inside the church with a suddenly dry mouth before swiftly making his way home, but there had been plenty of opportunities for Potter to corner him… So why hadn't he?
He mulled over that for days, alternating between loathing and calm contemplation, before he admitted to himself that Potter had seemed… at peace. The slow nod the young man had given him had made it seem as though he were perfectly content simply to know that Severus was alive, and while the former professor panicked slightly at the thought of whom Potter might tell about his whereabouts, he had thus far not received any visitors, nor had there been mention of him in the Daily Prophet. It was… disquieting.
Severus ventured from his apartment even less than usual that week, irrationally afraid that he might run into Potter in town, and was particularly tense at choir practice. His singing wasn't on par that night, and when several members of the choir showed genuine concern for him Severus found himself relaxing. He had a good life here, and felt surprisingly at home among the German singers who had easily welcomed him into their fold, greeting him with firm handshakes each week and posing interested questions about his work. Tübingen was very fond of homemade teas and soaps, he had found.
Gradually he relaxed back into his regular schedule, thoughts of Potter further from his mind as Fall colored Tübingen's hills in magnificent swaths of color and his teas were bought in greater quantities. He added hand moisturizer to his inventory and found himself playing around with different scents and consistencies, his customers happy to test them and give him feedback. Potter and the lingering threat of being discovered faded from his mind as the weather grew colder.
When the choir next sang a Mass in the Stiftskirche, Severus couldn't prevent his mouth from running dry as his eyes swept the gathering. No sign of Potter, and he relaxed fractionally throughout the service, the Latin phrases rolling easily off his tongue as he sang the tenor parts. They were singing a Mass by Menschick this time, a comparatively simple Mass that didn't require his full attention to sing flawlessly. He couldn't help but feel relieved when the service ended without a glimpse of Potter.
OoOoO
Meanwhile, Harry was enjoying his own time in Tübingen. His apartment on the hill gave him a beautiful view of rolling hills covered in Fall colors, and the crisp air called for warmer clothing. The sky was often grey, but even so there was plenty of light – and Harry did love the rain that fell so frequently over the city. He had always loved the smell of it, and being among so much nature was wonderful after the years in London. This was more like being back at Hogwarts, but with the advantages of living in a city.
As the weather grew cooler he found himself drinking more tea – he had actually brought an amount of proper tea with him from England, but found himself enjoying the many teas people in Tübingen drank. Harry actually hadn't been in any of the tea shops himself yet; he had received a large selection of teas as a welcoming present from his colleagues, since it had been common knowledge in his former office that he rarely drank alcohol, and the different herbal teas were a pleasant departure from the regular English breakfast tea he still drank each morning.
His language skills, too, were coming along nicely, and on the weekends he went hiking with some of his German colleagues, unable to understand most of their conversations but happy to see the spectacular nature and even ruins they passed by. Despite the slight language barrier the company was good-natured, and though most of his colleagues spoke English very well Harry applied himself diligently to learning the new language. It was a challenge he hadn't faced before, and though he had a lot of difficulties it was strangely rewarding.
Wrapping a Weasley-knit scarf around his neck, Harry left for work with a content smile. Yes, he was enjoying Tübingen so far.
OoOoO
Harry laughed as one of his younger colleagues, Valerie Böbel, dragged him away from the yearly chocolate market to show him her favorite tea shop.
"It's where we bought your Begrüßungsgeschenk – your welcome present," she said with a toothy grin. She was one of the engineers at their company, and so far had been more than happy to show around the only employee younger than her. He was 29 and she was 32, born and raised in Tübingen; she'd joined the company straight out of University, so she knew the city inside and out.
Leading him down a few cobblestone alleys, the brunette grinned happily as she spotted the shop. "Right there!" she pointed at the sign for 'Stephans Teehus' (A/N: Original is Hinrichs Teehus) and made to open the door.
"I've brought you a new customer, Herr Stenhouse," the woman called out cheerfully in German, preceding Harry into a shop heavily perfumed with the smell of tea.
"I will be with you shortly, Fräulein Böbel," a smooth voice replied from the back room, and Harry missed a step. Snape, he thought wide-eyed, and stared at the back room in shock. Honestly, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that the Potions Master would create teas.
He heard steps approaching and tried to smother his surprise, looking up to see Snape falter as their eyes met.
"Herr Stenhouse," Harry said abruptly, moving forward to offer the man his hand. "My name is Harry Potter. You make wonderful teas." His German was enough to say that much, thankfully. The man smoothly covered his hesitation and took Harry's hand, eyes intent and grip just that side of polite.
"Thank you, Herr Potter. It is good to hear that my teas are appreciated." The man's German sounded flawless, which didn't surprise Harry at all.
Harry smiled awkwardly and let go of the familiar hand that felt so unfamiliar within his own. "My colleagues bought me your tea when I moved here," he said one of the sentences he had practiced for just this occasion, "and since I liked it so much Valerie wanted to show me your store." He hoped he'd said that with the proper accent, and Valerie's reassuring smile told him he wasn't doing too terribly.
"You have just moved here, then?" Snape – Stenhouse, now – asked, and Harry shook his head in negation. He could see the suspicious glint in the other man's eyes.
"I moved here in August," he replied, wondering whether to add that he'd heard the man sing in the choir only a few weeks later. "For work," Harry added, unsure whether the German phrase was correct but knowing it conveyed the intended meaning when panic suddenly flared in the other man's eyes. Shaking his head with a slight grimace, he resorted to English to say, "I design motorcycles." He certainly didn't want the man to think he was an Auror tasked with bringing him in.
"That's right – aren't you also British, Herr Stenhouse?" Valerie suddenly chimed in, following Harry into English. "Harry has been working hard to learn German, but I'm sure you know how difficult it is," she smiled at her younger colleague. "We are very happy with his work so far, and we hope he stays for longer than his three-year posting."
Snape pinned Harry with an inscrutable gaze, and despite the man's change in appearance Harry felt like he was right back in the dungeons of Hogwarts. "No family to leave behind, Mister Potter?"
It was remarkable how different his name sounded when it wasn't being spoken with outright animosity, Harry realized. And after the accented pronunciation of his German colleagues, it was almost a relief to hear his surname pronounced properly.
"No, sir," Harry answered reflexively, only to be startled by Valerie's laugh. He was briefly tempted to return the question or ask Snape when he had moved to Tübingen, but instead grinned sheepishly at Valerie and said, "Force of habit, you know..."
"I am just glad you don't call me 'love' as Shane does," the woman laughed. "Respect is a good habit to have."
Harry smiled, then turned back to Snape with a slight nod. "I do apologize if we interrupted anything – I didn't mean to intrude." It was an apology for more than the current conversation and he saw that Snape recognized that. Rather than reply the man simply inclined his head, holding Harry's gaze for another moment before turning to Valerie.
"Miss Böbel, Mister Potter, I will be in the back until you are ready," he said smoothly, turning to go once both his customers had agreed. It was a bit strange to see him walk away without the dramatic flare of robes, Harry mused as he watched the man's retreat.
When did Potter turn into a man? Severus thought distractedly as he stalked to his back room. Why hadn't he minded Severus asking about his family – a calculated question that he was almost ashamed of, now – and why hadn't he pried in return? He'd seen the temptation flit over the younger man's face, briefly, and had hidden his shock when no question had followed. It was perfectly within the realms of polite conversation to ask when he himself had moved to Tübingen, after all, or why he had chosen the small German town – and yet, his former student hadn't asked. Had even apologized for intruding. It seemed... almost as though Potter hadn't even known that Severus lived here before he himself had made the move. Why would Potter choose to come to such a small city when no doubt he'd had a perfectly comfortable life in England? And designing motorcycles – a Muggle job? He couldn't wrap his head around it.
He was still chasing questions around his brain when his customers called him back, and he reluctantly returned to the shop. Not that he let his reluctance show.
After the purchases had been made – he hid his surprise at Potter buying his favorite blend – the green-eyed man held out a business card to him with an uncertain smile.
"In case you'd like to chat with someone from back home," he said mildly, and Severus felt his face tighten.
"Thank you," he ground out, accepting the card only because Valerie Böbel was looking on happily. "Should you require more tea," the warning that Potter could get nothing else from him was clear, "you know where to find me." The younger man nodded in acceptance and turned to go.
"Good day, Mister Stenhouse," he said at the door, and Severus watched silently as his most unexpected customer left the shop. Then he promptly closed up for the day and swept out of the room.
A/N: Not sure where else to take this – the first chapter really is wonderful on its own – but I wanted to write about Snape creating and selling teas. Doesn't it fit so well? I also felt like writing more about my hometown – Tübingen really is a lovely city, and I might just turn this story into a sort of what-to-do-in-Tübingen guide, with Harry and Severus introducing you to the city while running into each other unexpectedly. This is not going to be a slash fic, though, no matter what happens.