A Little Help
It was difficult to wrangle mortals. He wasn't exactly cupid, after all, but if he could win over his own raven-haired love, he didn't see why this scarred and battleworn young man couldn't have his. Jareth flitted out over the river. If he'd had a nose to wrinkle, it would have been as the stench of the polluted water reached him even at his current height. Humans wasted their good graces, really, but the fact that the young hero he'd been following as a favor to one of his subjects was willing to live here just to be close to the stubborn object of his affections said more than enough.
Harry Potter had been unhappy for too long, but he was so very easily manipulated. And the letters. Well, if he wasn't going to send them… Thank the old gods wizards used owls.
It was a simple matter to drop the bundle of hidden letters on the correct kitchen table.
Now he just had to wait. It took only a couple hours for the dark-haired man with a beak bigger than Jareth's own to finish reading the letters and leave his house in a cloud of distress.
From his perch outside young Potter's house, he watched as they met at the front door of Potter's home. The older man looked angry, but Potter only blushed, muttered something about him never having been meant to see the letters, and turned away to return inside. Damn.
"Wait!"
Jareth's large owl eyes twinkled mischievously as Snape's shock broke. He grabbed the young man, stopping him.
Sarah was right, first kisses really were perfect, no matter how imperfect.