It was so easy to get lost in the crowd of a city where nobody knew him.
Severus Snape, the thought-for-dead spy, was strolling down the infamous La Rambla street in Barcelona. He was wearing an inconspicuous pair of washed jeans and an open, faded linen shirt the color of blue dust.
He wasn't looking for trouble, only good tapas and a fine Montsant and perhaps, a Muggle magic show (as post dinner entertainment.
-x-x-x-
Harry Potter was looking for one specific wizard that everyone had taken for dead. Harry was a damn good target search, since his Seeker days on the Quidditch days. That's why nobody questioned him when he informed them that ex-spy Severus Snape was certainly in Barcelona.
If Harry knew Snape, and he knew him well, he would be there: hiding in a crowded, public area. Hidden in plain sight.
He just packed his bags, put in a notice at the department and took the next Portkey to Spain.
Hermione thought him batty for being obsessed with the man. Harry just needed to put things in order.
He couldn't live not knowing.
He had to find him.
-x-x-x-
Severus was basking in the setting sun. A perfect evening, surrounded by chatter and song from the nearby restaurant singers. He had already spotted a decent tapas place a block down: one with no English speaking waiter at the front and a low-key entourage.
He'd just walk until the end of the street, see everything, and return to his booked table.
He hated not knowing.
That's when it happened.
A small and useless act would have meant little to the average pedestrian, but to Severus, who was used to details, this was nothing less than an armed pickpocketing. And in broad daylight! The nerve!
Severus hated a bully in any sauce.
"That man stole your wallet," he cried to the red-headed lady with the shopping bags.
"What? Oh! My- where?"
"Stay there," he mumbled, and booked it after the petty theif, who had spotted him and was rounding a corner.
So much for tapas.
-x-x-x-
Harry hated Spain already. The Portkey was crowded like anything and he was pretty sure he'd already been approached twice, asking if he needed his luggage carried over to the front door of the station.
Harry didn't like scammers in the best of times.
"No...I don't need this," he mumbled to a woman asking for him to buy passport covers on the street, but tossed her a few coins for her condition.
If he knew Snape, and he did, he'd be in a crowded spot...trying to hide in the crowd. What was the busiest place in Spain?
"La Rambla, por favor," he said to the taxi driver and urged him to drive.
He had exited the cab, paid and checked into the nearest hotel available. Thankfully, the Ministry spared no expense to their best Aurors.
"Senor, I may take your bags?"
"Uh, yes, thanks." Harry's gaze was focused on the outside where a flash of blue and red had whipped by the hotel.
The fuck was that?
"Can you, thanks," Harry said, leaving cash on the counter and making a run out the door.
He could feel it, he was getting closer to his target.
-x-x-x-
He was getting closer, he could just feel it.
Severus had rounded two left corners, and then taken a right. The theif was staying straighter to mainstreet, hoping to whisk himself away into the crowd at first chance, no doubt.
You don't fool me.
Severus knew a plan when he saw one. Already half-way up the street, he caught a glimpse of Potter out of the corner of his eye.
The fuck?
He was not going to deal with this today. The price for kindness, apparently, was prison.
Anyone, but Potter! Severus' worst came scenario was coming to life. He was rarely wrong about his sightings, and Harry was coming for him. He'd think of avoiding him...later. The theif was about to enter back into the crowd.
-x-x-x-
Harry hated a bully. Whatever this theif had stolen from Snape, he was going to get the short end of the stick. Snape was a pro in the business of catching and detaining whoever he needed to, and this was no exception.
Perhaps, for the time being, he could make a small exception.
Harry darted down the opposite street, hoping to sneak in from a different angle and corner the theif with Severus as the backup.
They had been doing splendidly so far, and Severus had come in strong in hot pursuit of this petty man.
One swift flick of the wand, and the man had tumbled over.
Severus was panting, but slid over and grabbed the wallet out of his grasp. Flashing Harry a mere expression of farewell, he ran past.
"Stop!" Harry cried, crashing into a group of women taking photos. This was not the last time he'd be seeing the man. Severus was his, for sure.
-x-x-x-
What had he done to anger Harry so much? Maybe their chase in Paris down the Sienne had taken too much out of him or a previous chase along the Berlin wall had made Harry run out of breath. Whatever specific event it was, Harry was really aiming to put an end to it all.
Piece of work.
Severus spotted the woman at La Rambla, still standing about, and slowed his pace.
"There," he said, handing over the wallet.
"Oh, thank you so much, what is your name," the woman would have asked him, had Severus not contined running down the street.
He needed to get Harry off his heels. What place could be safer to escape from him than back down the street he came from? He'd go back to the Portkey and Apparate away: anywhere but here.
-x-x-x-
"Snape!" Harry called out desperatly. The man was too far from him to hear, but had clearly spotted him and was making his way towards the cabs. Shit!
Harry whipped out his wand and summoned a few nearby chairs into his path, and when Severus stumbled over them, took this chance to pounce right on top of him.
"Gotcha!" he cried, then spluttered because his fist hit him straight in the mouth.
"Fucking Potter," Snape cried, and shoved him off, his arms surprisingly strong.
Harry could taste him, smell his breath.
"You can't run from he," he whimpered as Severus made his way out and into a nearby building.
Giving him a short advance, and only so he could get the blood off his lips, Harry followed suite. He pushed the doors of the hotel open and booked it to the stairs, after Severus. He'd gotten up three flights, when he heard him running down a corridor and into an opened room.
Excusing the poor maid he shoved aside, Harry caught Snape climbing out a window and jumping out onto the street.
Harry turned around and booked it back down the stairs. He wasn't that skilled.
-x-x-x-
Harry was a real menace, and Severus' knees hurt like hell. He was not young enough to be chased desperately up and down the streets. There had to be a better way to avoid Harry.
Perhaps, hidden in plain sight. Severus frozen.
-x-x-x-
Why wasn't he running?
Out of breath, Harry stumbled into the clearing and stood inches away from Snape.
"You're under arrest from the Ministry," he said simply.
The man let out a short chuckled and slowly turned to face him. Bloody hell, if Harry ever felt like an idiot.
"You're correct. You caught me, Potter," he said slowly. "Now what will you do with me?"
Harry stared into his black-black eyes. He summoned some cuffs onto his hands.
"Come with me," he muttered, leading him back up to the hotel.
They had been signed in and the woman at the front desk looked at Harry like he brought home a ghost. He made certain she did not see his handcuffs, hidden strictly and magically from sight.
Severus followed him compliantly to his rooms, where Harry had him sit on the only available surface: the bed.
"And now, what shall we do?" he asked, taunting him with that impenatrable gaze of his.
"Now, I will talk."
-x-x-x-
He wanted to talk? Very well, Severus knew how to talk.
"Is Kingsley well?"
"Better than most."
"Excellent-"
"-Shut the fuck up." Harry was pacing back and forth now. "I've spent three years searching for you around the globe. Three years plotting every country you've visited. I've tracked your every move. For what?"
Severus regarded his lithe figure, his strong jawline that was at present shifting unconfortably and quickly as he spoke. He was what Muggles called 'handsome'. His father had been much the same in his youth. It was an unnverving resemblence, especially since the former had been an actual asshole, and Harry was doing a rather poor job pretending to be one.
"Sorry," he muttered. It was almost comical, the entire affair.
"I'm supposed to bring you back to the Ministry. They've been after your head for a while now."
"They plan to send me to Azkaban?" He suggested, lazily.
"Best they could think of."
"You would send me elsewhere."
"I'd send you to hell," Harry spat. "No one riles me up like you."
"Well, well, well, Potter," he jested, "Ever the moral dilemma? Hand me over to the authorities, and you'd be left a hero. But rather bored, I'd say."
"Exactly." Harry kicked a nearby chair.
"You simply don't want this to be over," Severus suggested.
"You know I fucking don't."
"You're weak. Like your father."
He hoped his look would be enough. It was more than plenty. Harry had him pinned to the bed by his throat and was angrily spitting out words at him. "Don't talk about my father that way."
"I enjoy seeing you seething like you are," Severus said, letting out a low chuckle. "Go on, Potter. Destroy me."
And that's when Potter's lip locked into his in a mad suckle. That's it Potter, do it, Severus tempted him, pulling at his pants with his shackled hands.
-x-x-x-
Harry had been in his lap for a long time and an incredibly short time simultaneously. He'd already established that he was not strong enough to withstand some provocation. He'd wanted to find him too strongly, perhaps this obsession of his had taken a mind of its own.
As always, his friend Hermione had been right. He needed to watch out who he was obsessed with.
But it didn't matter now that Severus arms had been fumbling with his thighs and pulling at his clothes. There was magic for that.
Undoing his pant zipper, Harry licked his lips and stroked Severus' head. "You asshole."
"Right again," said the man. And he leaned forwards, planting a gentle kiss on his member, running his nose up and down the fabric of his trousers.
And since he let him, Severus took it upon himself to swallow him down whole, right down to his balls. And Harry grunted something unearthly and pulled at his long, black hair, urging him to take him deeper.
And when it had all finished, he pushed the man back onto the bed and went into the bathroom to do himself up. When he emerged, he unshackled Severus and tossed him the card.
"Door's open. Leave when you please."
And like that, Potter was gone.
-x-x-x-
Okay, Severus consoled himself, you'd won yourself at least anouther couple monthes. Potter would be back for him. he;d probably gone back to the Ministry and would tell them some lie about how he couldn't catch Severus Snape once again, that he was too fast for him.
He smirked and fell back into the sheets.
Some trip to Spain he had.