Scars

by grumbleonimbus

Summary:

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry helps Snape survive Nagini's bite and decides to become a Healer. Harry and Draco strike up a friendship that begins with Harry asking him for Potions advice. When he heals Astoria of her Malediction and makes it possible for them to have a child, Harry and Draco become close.

Years later, Severus fortuitously returns from travelling (avoiding England) just as Harry is looking for an innovative Potions Master to work on a project restoring magic to Squibs.

Harry has long held a torch for Snape and hopes they'll finally, at the very least, call a truce. Severus still grasps at the many assumptions he made about Potter in order to deny that he's long known them not to be true. He certainly can't imagine they'll get along but Potter... Harry is friendly and respectful and sparks of a different kind than before fly between them and ignites something special.

The MCD warning and Sad Ending tag might turn some people away but there's a stopping point where you can get off the... train, as it were, and pretend there's a happier ending if you want. I'll be clear where this is. Hopefully, knowing this, more people choose to read my story.

Notes:

Hello again. I bring you this time a Snarry story, the ending of which was my starting point when it was first conceived. It is finished even so I'll likely only post a chapter about once a week. This is a short prologue so I might post Chapter 1 sooner than that. I hope you enjoy it.

Alas, it must be noted, that the Wizarding World and the lovely characters that people it belongs to J.K. Rowling (and I do not profit from adding to it). As I've said before, I just like letting them live out different post-war endings.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Harry was feeling uncomfortably hot as he walked briskly through the corridor towards his office. Like his ears might combust as a drop of sweat ran down his spine, he couldn’t get there fast enough. Still, he nodded and smiled at the staff that he passed along the way.

Finally, he reached his office, already loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first three buttons of his shirt. Harry locked and warded the door behind him but manually opened a window wide. Leaning out, he took in a few breaths of fresh air. He dreaded the forthcoming summer.

Harry shrugged out of his lab coat and hung it on the back of his swivel-chair and dropped into the seat wearily. He removed his glasses and tossed them onto his desk before scrubbing his face with his hands. One hand moved up into his hair and gave it a rough scrub as well – it’s not like it could get any messier – while he leaned back in the chair. There was a moment of resistance before the chair creaked into a reclined position.

His eyes were burning from the long 24-hour shift with an all too short nap somewhere in the middle that he worked instead of the mandated twelve. Harry rubbed his hands together vigorously and then rested his palms lightly over his eyes, the warmth of his hands relaxed them and mitigated the burn somewhat. He undid the buttons at the cuffs of his sleeve and haphazardly rolled them up twice on each side and loosened his wand holster slightly. Then he folded his hands across his belly and, still reclining, shimmied forward in the seat, stretching his legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. This position afforded him his favourite view in this room.

The wall diagonally across from his desk was filled with drawings and paintings. At some point they had become so many that he simply began to stick them to the ceiling.

Harry’s eyes sought out some of his favourites – there were lions, and tigers and dragons (‘Oh my!’). There were more rainbows than he could count, suns and stars, brooms and Snitches. One especially withdrawn, quiet little boy had even sketched a beautiful Snidget but Harry had taken that one home, framed and hung it on his wall with the first Snitch he ever caught and his Firebolt.

He loved all the colours and the wonderful imagination that only children can express in their art. He loved hearing the explanations of what they’d drawn, the moment the illogical makes perfect sense – “See?” they always said. “I do see,” always his reply, as he smiled and looked straight into their eyes.  He loved the smiles he got in return, as varied as the pictures from shy to smug.

His patients. No matter what they presented with or needed treatment for, they really just wanted to be seen. And Harry felt it part of his life’s work to truly look.

Once he felt the tension melt from his shoulders and the breeze from the window sufficiently cool him down, he turned his attention to a letter he needed to write to Minerva.

Soon after the war, Harry had drawn up an appeal to the Ministry of Magic about the safeguarding of Magical children. He did not limit the petition to the Muggleborn (known now as the widely accepted Magical Innate, or the latter for short) or those raised outside the magical world but also Wizarding children, specifically including those of Death Eaters – he was determined to ensure that no more magical children would be exposed to abusive households of any kind.

There was resistance at first, it’s easier to keep doing things the way they had always been done. But through perseverance (read: stubbornness) and two conspicuous examples, that of Tom Riddle and himself, they came to an accord. It meant exposing the broad strokes of the circumstances of his childhood that he would rather have kept private, but it was a means to an end and if it accomplished his goal, he would take advantage of it. There was another example of which he had vague knowledge, that of Severus Snape but the proud man would never have forgiven him.

A sub-division of the Department of Magical Child Welfare had been formed to keep track of children whose names came to be entered onto the British Register of Magical Births. If maltreatment was suspected, the family would be put under stricter observation until it was proven unnecessary or there was cause for an intervention. There were many rules in place as to what constituted abuse, physical, emotional or otherwise, and when such cause was justified. Less severe cases were assigned a Social Worker who periodically did welfare checks. But children in extreme cases were removed from their homes and cared for at a facility created for just this purpose.

The facility that Harry founded, FRADJALiSTiC, was partly subsidised by the Ministry as well as Harry’s share of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes profits in Fred’s name. It was also greatly aided with donations of money and volunteers of time, not to mention maintained by a small army of Free-Elves (Hermione had insisted). It had a primary school that covered foundational Magical Studies including Latin and Quill Writing, courses on Mathematics and Science with a focus on learning through play; extra-curricular activities that ranged from various sports to the arts; and a well-staffed infirmary, including Mind Healers.

When Harry became Head of the Department for Childrens’ Maladies and Mishaps at St Mungo’s he insisted that all his interns spent at least a month at FRADJALiSTiC. And Harry himself was present at every intake examining each child top-to-toe. Harry acutely felt every bruise, every welt, every broken bone knitted slightly askew by accidental magic.

Parents of the Innate, where no other early interventions were required, were visited as soon as the child exhibited their first bout of accidental magic. They were provided with information about what to expect, and one such piece of guidance was ensuring their child’s Magical vaccines were administered.  

His letter to Minerva would be asking to set up a meeting with her and Poppy to discuss any special needs of the children turning eleven. It was only May, but he had to get it into his diary which filled up months in advance. Harry also asked how the year had gone and after William Wallace, her Kneazle, so named for the blue-black colouring down exactly half of his face and because he wasn’t afraid to attack.

Harry had just sent off one of the hospital owls to take the letter to Hogwarts when there was a curt knock on his door.

“One moment.” He hastily tied up his shirt buttons and rolled down his sleeves, grunting in frustration as it got stuck on the loosened wand holster, before refastening the cuffs.

Waving a hand to undo his wards and unlock the door, he said, “Come in.” Harry looked up, “Draco, what are you still doing here? I thought you said you had some last-minute things to do for Scorp’s birthday.”

“Harry, you know I hate it when you call him that.”

“Ah, he loves it though, so…,” Harry spread his hands to indicate he’ll clearly deny his godson nothing.

“And I do. Have some things to do that is. But there are a couple of appointments you need to add to your diary for Monday and Tuesday. There were two cancellations, so I moved up the two cases you were concerned about. I brought their files. And I wanted to remind you about the Turkish Potions conference on the twenty-sixth of June – I’ve put together some information on the speakers with clippings of their most recent articles. I’ll give you the hotel and dinner reservation details closer to the time, you’ll only lose them.”

As he shifted some parchment around searching for his diary, Harry clucked his tongue at Draco’s supposition, but he really couldn’t deny that it was the truth and they both knew it.

“Accio Harry’s diary. Honestly, Potter, it boggles my mind that you still forget you are a Wizard when it comes to mundane tasks.”

Harry looked sheepish as he took the diary from Draco. He paged through it to the following weeks’ date and then scribbled the names Draco read to him from two patient intake folders in his hand. Harry then took them as well as the info packet from Draco and immediately slid them into his messenger bag to make sure he didn’t leave them behind.

“Right then, I am off to Diagon. I shall see you tomorrow.”

“See you. Thanks, you’re the best assistant I have Draco,” Harry called to his retreating back, though he was the only one.

“Of course I am,” came the routine reply.

While Harry could keep all the names of his patients and their parents, as well as their various maladies straight in his head with ease, maintaining order in the day-to-day overall was something at which he was decidedly pants. Draco had taken pity on him and henceforth the mantle of assistant – ‘Executive Assistant, with capitals, Potter’ – and incrementally taken charge of Harry’s diary (life).

And in the meantime, he became Harry instead of Potter – unless Draco was exasperated, which, truthfully was quite often – and Harry was appointed godfather to Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Unlike Draco’s singular role in Harry’s life, Scorpius was not Harry’s only godchild, but he was a bright little star among them. Secretly his favourite although he’d never admit that to Draco and definitely not to Hermione either – Rose was cute and she knew it and as such leveraged this knowledge, quite subtly for a three-year-old, to her advantage – Scorp was adorable and oblivious to it.

Before leaving, Harry went to his Potions cabinet to retrieve a dozen or so random small objects – a blue two-by-two Lego, a pair of navy and gold dice, one of Rose’s hairclips (she refused to wear because ‘there is no such thing as pink butterflies in nature’), a green army man, a variegated stone, an eraser shaped like a dinosaur with its head partly worn down, and a cats eye marble to name some of them – stuffing them into his lab coat pockets that he left on the back of the chair. Harry used them to perform switching spells to instantly call Potions to hand when needed, especially in emergencies. He made a list of the Potions he used during the day so they could be replaced and banished the order to an ‘inbox’ in the Potions lab for them to fulfil in the morning. All practices now adopted across the hospital, except no one used the eclectic variety of objects he did, most opting for coins. He gathered a few other files to take home for the weekend and headed to the Apparition Point.

He despised all forms of Wizarding travel, but he lived too far away to go back and forth from London by any other means. And he wouldn’t give up the idyll he found near the seaside town of Old Hunstanton. Unplottable and under Fidelius, and with at least a dozen more wards besides, he had designed his small, but perfect home to be cantilevered over the cliff. The sunsets with a view of the striped rock face that changed colour each minute as the sun lowered in the sky, were worth the expense of the cantilevered section being entirely made of glass.

He toed off his sneakers at the door and dropped his things next to a sideboard, his phone and other pocket detritus going into a dish situated there for this very purpose. Unbuttoning his collar and cuffs again, he made his way to a large glass terrarium under the window to the right of the door. He lifted the lid and reached inside, calling to Hecate, a bright turquoise and black-striped Garter Snake. She wound around his arm until she settled across his shoulders, head level with his ear.

Cooing to her in Parseltongue, he hurried over to his favourite chair. Flopping into it and flinging his legs over an arm. He summoned a tumbler and a bottle of fine Whiskey, gifted to him by Minerva last Christmas, just in time to pour and toast the setting sun.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Just realised how short these early chapters are, I think they get longer later. For that reason, I combined two of them and hence the number of chapters was adjusted.

Thank you for the early kudos and lovely comments, I so appreciate them.

Harry made his usual stumbling, coughing, sooty entrance into Draco and Astoria’s home. He absentmindedly reached for the clothes brush that hung there. Draco had even engraved H.J.P. (in gold lettering, the ostentatious twat) onto the handle. Anyone else might be affronted, Harry was touched, it made him feel welcome.

He made his way towards the noise in the open kitchen-dining area. He had barely stepped into the room when he was almost bowled over by the ball of energy that was Scorpius. Harry hauled him up by his underarms and Scorpius wrapped his legs around Harry’s middle, leaning so far back in his arms it might be deemed precarious in most anyone else’s. He had absolute trust that Harry would hold his weight, slight as it was.

“Hey, happy birthday Scorp. I can’t believe you’re forty already, time really flies.”

“I’m not fooorty, Uncle Harry, ’m four.” Scorpius held up four fingers, spread out wide to illustrate this assertion.

“Oh, thank goodness! Just stay four forever, will you?”

“Nooo, ob-viously I can’t.”

“Okaaay,” Harry pouted, “just for one year then, think you can manage that?”

Scorpius giggled and leaned forward to hug Harry’s neck, causing him to smile over the boy’s shoulder.

Harry glanced around the gathering and the smile slid from his face. He rocked backwards on his heels in surprise.

“Eep! You’re squishing me.”

Harry had inadvertently tightened his arms. He set the wriggling Scorpius down without taking his eyes off someone he never thought he’d see again.

 

Draco sidled up to him and Harry tore his eyes away to give him a look that clearly said: ‘What the fuck?’ instead of saying it aloud because little ears were within hearing distance.

“I ran into him in Diagon yesterday. He is back in England and on a whim, I invited him. Honestly, I was astonished he said yes. I think he was too,” Draco chuckled.

“On a whim? And it didn’t occur to you to warn me.”

Draco’s mouth twitched, “You are telling me you cannot foresee any significant use for him currently?”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “Berk.” He instantly felt the need for a cigarette.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, as he stepped out into the garden – Scorpius popping up beside him, Harry hadn’t realised he was followed – he was waylaid by all the rest of his godchildren and their siblings in a large group hug, each clamouring for his attention in some way or another. So instead, he sat on the patio stairs and gave them it to them fully.

 

ssSSss

Draco was avoiding Severus’ glare. He knew it was felt, and the nonchalance with which he navigated the whole room and yet evaded Severus entirely was almost laudable.

Severus could not fathom why he accepted the invitation to a dunder– child’s birthday party. Perhaps it was because it was his godson’s offspring whom he had never met and because, whilst they had kept in the scantest of touch during the course of his travels and then when he settled for some years in Costa Rica, he had not seen Draco since… well, since.

He had declined the invitation to their wedding, having been in Cuba at the time. He felt a little contrite about it but not enough to come all the way back. He detested expensive pageantry. He also detested balloon-infested, headache-inducing celebrations of the birth of one’s progeny. He had endured more than enough of Draco’s own yearly ‘milestones’ to have succumbed to this solicitation, and yet here he was.

He had not anticipated quite so many Gryffindors. Especially not The Quintessential Gryffindor.

Severus’ gaze was drawn to the white-blond head as it raced across the room. He lost sight of it for a moment and then saw the boy was being held by someone, but Scorpius was blocking whom it was. Severus appraised the boy as fairly shy, especially with strangers, so clearly it was someone close to the family. He almost lost interest in the newcomer when he caught sight of a bright smile crinkling the corners of a pair of very particular, ever so green eyes.

He watched as the smile fell and Severus’ stomach lurched. Only because of the unwelcome surprise, not because he felt somewhat affronted that his visage could prompt such a dramatic transformation in Potter’s expression.

He lowered the boy then turned to Draco. There was a short exchange that caused Potter to become hunched even while Draco looked somewhat pleased with himself for some unfathomable reason.

Then Harry stalked off in the direction of the garden, still hunched, hands jammed in his pockets with Scorpius trailing in an oblivious jog/skip combo.

Severus’ body inexplicably twitched as though it intended to follow Potter, quite against his will, mind you. He resolved to make Draco squirm by the sheer force of his glower. He deflected it momentarily to identify the source of a ruckus outside, only to see Potter through a window holding court surrounded by every child present. Severus scoffed aloud, no doubt regaling them with stories of his childhood ‘heroics’ or even his current ones in the Auror Corps.

 

Severus stared at Draco over the frivolity and stewed.

He had been told Potter saved his life after Nagini attacked him – Severus was not sure how since Granger had not been with Potter at the time. It is common knowledge he could not accomplish anything without her and yet Severus had not even any scars to show for the vicious bite.

He had been told that Potter sat by his bedside while he recovered in a magically-induced coma while the cursed venom was being treated and expelled – Severus cannot be sure, but he vaguely recalls dreams about a crime-solving duo who operated out of 221B Baker Street with his own and Potter’s faces. It is common knowledge, or should be, that that is the residence of Sherlock Holmes (he was cast in the titular role of course and Potter his Watson).

He had been told that Potter testified on his behalf before the Wizengamot – Severus was not willing to believe he had done such a thing even after having Potter had viewed those memories. It was common knowledge that Severus had, after all, still done awful things.

And yet, since Draco was the source of these tales, he was inclined towards deeming them truthful. Severus felt partly cheated, he had not thought he would survive the machinations of the two madmen he served, and he had earned a rest even if it was not in fabled peace beneath a headstone. And yet, he was bitterly compelled to feel grateful for having a chance to live free of those mad men and a long rest of his life in some kind of peace of his own making.

And then, Potter appeared, completely unexpectedly, to shatter that peace. He would no doubt expect to be thanked, and worse need to discuss it all. Severus had no intention to indulge him. Potter probably thought he knew Severus after viewing his memories, but even though only Albus and Potter knew those truths (Draco told him Potter closely guarded their contents), the collection showed none of the darker depths to which he sunk in his service to the… ugh, Dark Lord. Depths they would, under no circumstances, be exploring. Best to avoid him, Severus thought.

He also thought Draco was a cunning little snake to have not warned him that Harry would be here and that they were so friendly. Really Severus should be proud of that cunning if he were not so aggrieved.

 

After the cake was brought out and that dirge of a song sung, after the child was cheered for the amazing feat of blowing out four candles, he proceeded to avail himself to an obscene pile of gifts.

While he seemed to display genuine gratitude for all the toys and clothes and a rather heartening collection of books, Severus could only roll his eyes when Scorpius exclaimed, “Wow! A bicycle, thank you Uncle Harry!”

Severus was near enough to see Draco look pointedly at Potter who was standing at his side. At a surreptitious eavesdropping spell for his ears only that Severus invented in his spying days, it revealed Draco saying, “Really? He is four.” To which Potter’s reply was “Teddy learned at four so Scorp undoubtedly can.”

Scorp?

“It is not his capability I am concerned about. And it is red.”

“So it is,” Harry remarked with feigned surprise.

Draco rolled his eyes, “If he falls off that thing…”

“He’ll be much lower to the ground than if it were a broom,” Harry said with a grin.

“Yes, that makes me feel a whole better. In addition, there are moving parts unlike a broom,” Draco swished his hand violently in a circle.

“Don’t worry so much. I’ll charm it to within an inch and who better to be on hand if he falls?”

The Boy Hero, ever arrogant.

At Draco’s concerned expression Potter just chuckled and patted him on the back. Potter then slid his hand over Draco’s shoulder and left it there while they watched the boy open the last of his gifts. Severus could not imagine how the infamous ‘arch’ rivals became so familiar.

 

Much to his displeasure, Severus did not succeed in completely escaping everyone’s notice. He found himself trying to appear to be participating in conversations with: Molly, who never really let people get a word in edgewise anyway; Luna, ever the enigma who made some untenable, if accurate, observations about Severus’ awareness of Potter; Arthur, who seemed content to rock on his heels in silence for an interminable length of time once their meagre small talk drifted into silence; unlike Pansy and Blaise, who felt (satisfactorily) awkward enough not to linger after the same.

Draco, however, managed to avoid Severus the entire afternoon. No matter, he would not escape his ire, even if he would have to express it in a tersely worded owl tomorrow.

 

As the afternoon faded into early evening, Severus felt the need to get some air. He followed the path through Astoria’s rather lovely rose garden that ended at a white gazebo so covered in climbing roses that it obscured the inside.

Severus saw the tendril of blue smoke before he saw who occupied the structure.

Potter.

Potter who, even in the still warm spring air, is dressed in long sleeves, the tail untucked and rumpled over his left hip. A light-blue shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, the collar partially unfolded at the back – slovenly in his attire even now. Severus also thought the leather suspenders were entirely unnecessary since his khaki slacks seemed to be sufficiently… tight to hold themselves up. Navy sneakers looked well-worn and scuffed; Severus recalled the style was popular even in Cokeworth – Chucks he seemed to remember them being referred in his adolescent years.

Speaking of slovenly, the Hair. A smattering of grey at the temple and sideburn drew Severus’ eyes – at not yet thirty. But then perhaps being pursued by an evil zealot for over half your life and chasing his minions since might do that to one. A cow-lick steered his long fringe over the infamous scar on his forehead as well as partially his eye, still clad, as they were, in spectacles albeit more stylish ones. The shorter back looked as though he had run his hands through it more than once, the ends flicking up at the nape of his neck.

No, Severus had not just conjured an image of his own hands clenching the slight curls. Why even would a thought like that slink into mind?

Potter was leaning his elbows on a railing crossed at the forearms, a cigarette dangled from his fingers, seeming completely at ease. As Potter lifted the cigarette to his mouth, Severus noticed what appeared to be pink childish writing on his hand, but he looked away when Potter’s cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, bringing into relief his cheekbones and chin, further defined by a five o-clock shadow. He did not want to ponder why he felt it was indecent a thing to witness.  

 

Potter’s exhale doubled as a sigh, and Severus was drawn to look at him again, the blue smoke swirled around his face. Severus also did not want to ponder why he had not just turned around and simply left immediately. His feet kept him rooted to the spot. Also, it might have been perceived as fleeing. He was no coward. So much for avoiding his literal Saviour.

“Snape.”

“Potter.”

Severus was not sure why he took this as an invitation to join Potter in leaning on the balustrade.

His first impulse was to say something about the Wizarding World’s Golden Boy indulging in nasty habits but what came out was, “Might you have another?”

Potter reached into a front pocket of his trousers and pulled out a pack. He gave it a practiced tap against his other hand and the filter of the cigarette that slid out was proffered to Severus. He took it and as it reached his lips, Potter had in a similarly practised fashion snicked open a tarnished Zippo and thumbed the flint wheel. Severus leaned into the flame and lit his cigarette – how Muggle. He ignored the feeling of Potter scrutinising him.

They said nothing more and Potter left after he flicked off the last bit of ash and, in an effortless flourish of his fingers, vanished the butt. Severus fortified his Occlumency shields to keep himself from pondering why the word ‘gorgeous’ felt less improper than it ought.

Draco would be thoroughly castigated tomorrow. Severus shall send his owl early, thus ensuring he would wake the aggravating bastard.

Chapter 3

Notes:

Oh man, I wanted to say something and totally forgot what... I will remember the instant I log off, no doubt! Gah, I waited to post to see if it came back and nope. Note to self: ALWAYS write it down!

Severus did not spend the next few weeks thinking of Potter, not at all.

He occupied himself with colouring sketches, with the help of copious notes, that he made of the flora and fungi and various insects he observed and collected on his travels in South America. Now that he decided to settle in Britain once again, he planned to research them more thoroughly and experiment with them for possible Potion reactions. He was in search of a lab in which he could do so, preferably without having to set one up from scratch.

 

Severus always closely guarded his Potions notes and drawings of ingredients. Occasionally other subject matter crept into these journals. When he was younger it was a certain dark-haired, serious, and focused peer. A peer who ultimately became more than that.  

In this journal, it was a sketch of a cigarette, the burning end coloured red and charmed to glow, captured between a pair of bowed lips. Another of an ear, the helix adorned in three delicate black rings not immediately noticeable behind a loose curl of dark hair, a smattering of white in the sideburn. And, if he found himself trying to attain the precise shade of green to tint an eye in the profile that he had sketched, that he might charm to glint as well, no one would know.

 

Tea with Narcissa proved most fruitful to his endeavours of possibly finding an opportunity to brew professionally. He had been dreading the meeting for not only having to address Lucius’ very different fate – a brief stint in Azkaban before succumbing to a poisoned meal – but for potentially enduring scrutiny of his true loyalties and his own freedom. He should have known Narcissa would be discrete in her deft avoidance of the latter, and not overly maudlin regarding the former.

 

“Draco, despite the title of Executive Assistant at St Mungo’s to–”

“How did I not know that he is merely an assistant?”

“Well, Severus, you kept yourself well secluded from Wizarding Britain these past seven years.”

“Eight.”

“Eight. As, I was saying, he is dedicated to his work with Healer Po–”.

“Draco is surely capable of so much more. He had the potential to do anything he wanted.”

“I am proud of him. Draco is doing good, honourable work at the hospital and at FRADJALiSTiC–”

“Fragile what now?”

Narcissa was momentarily silent before changing the subject, “You intend to take up brewing again fulltime then?”

Severus was happy the conversation had turned to the crux of this reunion, “I do. Although I shan’t content myself with brewing common Potions that, in theory, dunderheaded seventh years should be capable. I would like to experiment with improvements on the more complicated ones, and I also have some, if I do say so myself, innovative ideas I would like to put into development. Honestly, the Wizarding World is so stagnant in this regard, it is de-plor-able. I look forward to writing up my findings for that rag that dares describe itself as on the cutting edge, Potions Quarterly. I would sooner use it to line the bottom of my owl’s perch, once I have gleefully corrected the errors. However, that is the best way to reach the community of Potioneers at large.”

“Of course. So, you do have an owl?”

“It was not that I was unable to send and receive regular correspondence, I merely chose not to.”

“Let us hope, my dear Severus, that now you are here, you shall not continue to isolate yourself. Please. You were missed, you know?”

“By whom?”

“Myself, Draco, your former colleagues, no doubt, and I daresay a certain Gry–”

“Former colleagues? Doubtful, I murdered their fearless leader. Or did you forget?”

 “Who could forget? But you were acquitted, or did you forget the heartfelt plea put forth by Ha–”

“Who could forget that?”

 “Quite,” Narcissa said huffing a deep sigh, showing some exasperation contrary to her upbringing, with what however Severus did not know.

 

hhHHhh

Harry was preparing an order for the Potions that are regularly required at FRADJALiSTiC, as well as those most commonly needed in the Hogwarts infirmary ahead of the Quidditch season and winter, even though the start of the first semester was over three months away. Without Professor Snape on staff, they needed help maintaining consistent stock levels.

Preparing large quantities of nutritive potions, Skele-Grow, Calming Draughts, Murtlap Essence, Dittany and bruise paste would keep the intern brewers at St Mungo’s busy for almost all that time.

He was interrupted by a knock on his door, “Come in.”

“Oh, for the love of…”

Harry looked up at the familiar voice, pushed gun metal grey, square thick-framed – ‘I’m not a hipster, Ron, I happen to like really them, okay’ – glasses up his nose with his thumb and forefinger on the rim. The voice he thought he might never hear again. The voice belonging to the recent weeks’ distraction.

A distraction somehow beautiful in his indignant strop over being ambushed into the proximity of his most hated student and at a four-year-old’s birthday party, no less. Draco – the brazen bastard – was aware, of course, of the ember he yet harboured for Severus Snape. And now Harry realised what Draco had meant about ‘significant use’ for the man – they were about to begin a search for a Potions Master who had the skill and talent for innovation. The perfect solution just walked through the door.

 

Harry had never seen him dressed so casually as he was at Scorpius’ birthday party. In Muggle clothes no less. He looked younger and slender, in a healthy way, no longer as gaunt as he had been those last few years. At a brief sneer, Harry noticed he had his teeth fixed somewhere along in the eight years he was away. Not only that, he spotted a colourful tattoo on Severus’ left forearm audaciously peeking out under the rolled-up sleeves of his charcoal Oxford shirt, two buttons left tantalisingly undone at the neck exposing a smooth column of neck. It was the most naked Harry had ever seen him and it flustered him terribly, although he thought he managed to hide it well when they smoked together.

Harry spent the last few weeks of his free time longing to take a closer look at the details with which Snape had chosen to cover his Dark Mark that he couldn’t quite see during their… whatever that was in the gazebo. How he longed to run his fingers up that unblemished neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to push his hands through a still long but unexpectedly edgier haircut.

Possibly most of all, he wanted to know how the fingers, nails varnished in black – which should not have worked on a man of fifty but somehow it did – that had so tantalisingly held the bummed cigarette, would feel caressing Harry’s skin.

 

Harry stood, “Snape?”

“I prefer Master Snape. Since my title is no longer Professor, it is the one I earned for my Mastery of Potions.”

“Master Snape, apologies. How may I help you?” In an awkward stance halfway between standing and sitting, Harry added, “Please sit.” Harry fancied he could see the billow of phantom robes as Snape swept into the room and seated himself. He was once again dressed in Muggle clothes, though more formal ones.

“You are a Healer?” came the incredulous question.

“Yes, obviously,” Harry couldn’t help swivelling his chair and gesturing with a thumb to the sage green lab coat hanging on the back, Hr H.J. Potter clearly embroidered above the breast pocket, and it garnered him a raised eyebrow. He barely managed to contain a shiver. That brought back all sorts of memories he had firmly pushed way, way down.

“I thought for sure you would have fulfilled your aspirations to be an Auror.”

“My aspirations changed.”

Harry waited while Snape cast is eyes about the room taking in his messy desk, the variety of snake plants he kept on the windowsill – that, astonishingly, responded well to Parseltongue, or maybe Harry just imagined they did – the antique card-file cabinet in which he kept his patient notes, and the volume of art adhering to the wall and ceiling facing his desk.

He waited too for the scathing comment, but Snape just returned his eyes to Harry. He had to look away from the blackness lest he tumble into their void – well that was a tad dramatic a thought. Harry cleared his throat and repeated his question.

“I was under the impression that I was to be interviewed regarding a position of Potions Master here.”

“Oh, yeah, right… um, Draco set the appointment up… I didn’t expect…,” then under his breath Harry added, “I am going to strangle him.”

“Pardon me?”

“Nothing. Apologies, Draco hadn’t given me details of who would I be interviewing. Usually, I look at recommendations and resumés and such before hiring personnel.”

“I brought those, of course.”

“No need. I am well aware of your accomplishments, and you need no recommendations.”

“I dislike being made an exception of.”

“Yeah, same. Draco had only said ‘Trust Me’, capitals evident in the enunciation, when I’d asked, and so I thought no more about it.”

“Since when have you trusted Draco Malfoy?”

“Since… well, assisting with Astoria’s malady that I… uh… so they could-” – for fuck’s sake could I sound less professional? – “conceive,” he finished quietly.

“Eloquent as always, Potter.”

Trying to regain some of his composure, “I prefer Healer Potter. It is the title I earned.” *

Snape appeared contrite as he looked at his hands for a brief moment. After clearing his throat, he said, “Apologies. Healer Potter, I shan’t waste any more of your time.” Snape made to stand.

“Wait. Don’t you… erm… are you no longer interested in the… uh… position?” And there goes his composure all over again. Harry, once again half-standing half-sitting, exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as Snape impassively contemplated this for a, most likely purposefully, at least ninety seconds, before he sat back down.

“I am. Interested. In the position. I only assumed that our… strained relationship would not be conducive to working together. I am not sure why Draco imagined it might be productive at all. I am certain there are other more genial candidates for you to consider.”

“There are no other candidates that could possibly be as good as you. And the hospital does not need genial. We need accomplished and perspicacious.”

“Four syllables, Potter, who would have thought you were capable.”

Harry ignored the lack of honorific to avoid antagonising him, “Would you like to see the laboratory? Ooh, would you look at that, a five-syllable word,” Harry deadpanned. It seems he couldn’t resist antagonising him after all.

Snape tried to hide his chagrin in a frown, but a sudden blush on the apple of his cheeks gave him away, “That would be amenable.”

Oh, dear, that was… rewarding in more ways than one!

“Please, come with me, Master Snape,” Harry maintained his flat tone despite his rampant thought, not leaving out his title. He stood and put his lab coat on.

 

As they were about to step out of Harry’s office, “On second thought, I best Disillusion us. It’ll be faster.” Harry circled his wrist where it hung by his side, and after the feeling of something viscous trickling down over his head, said “Come.”

In the corridor they passed by several patient wards. All of them had large windows with various leafy pot plants on these windowsills – Harry insisted – and each room was a different colour of the rainbow. They all had seven beds and children gathered in friend groups in some, while in others, they were asleep with the curtains drawn.

They passed a common room with bookshelves lining the walls occupied by yet more children playing with toys and games and puzzles or colouring. They sat on large beanbags or at low tables in small chairs.

Mediwitches and -wizards, and one other doctor bustled past them, their eyes gliding over the space Harry and Snape inhabited, while the two of them weaved their way through the obstacle course of people, cupboards and carts of supplies.

Harry walked swiftly. It was his natural gait in the hospital, but he suddenly became aware that Snape might think him to be rushing to be done with this encounter. A glance to the side showed him that Snape was keeping up whilst also turning his head from side to side taking in the environment, so Harry didn’t slow his pace.

At the end of the corridor, they practically jogged down three flights of stairs. Although Snape seemed to be wheezing slightly when they reached the bottom. Harry was accustomed to lots of walking and stair-climbing in the hospital, so he wasn’t out of breath in the slightest. There he opened a door with a textured-glass windowpane, and they entered a bare antechamber.

“This would be your office. It’s a bit dreary with no windows, ’cos the room isn’t on an outside wall. We can install an enchanted one, if you like. Through here,” Harry pulled open a heavier, sliding door, “is the lab.”

They stepped into a large room. A high, narrow window spanning almost the whole wall under which ran a bench the length of the well-lit room.

“Plenty of space for multiple cauldrons.”

The side of the room opposite the doors had floor to ceiling shelves. Half of them open and the other half enclosed in a dark cupboard Harry revealed by opening the nearest one.

“For your ingredients, erm… obviously. We plan to make the other half cold storage. And I thought you could store your equipment in these,” Harry gestured to the cupboards and drawers under a long workbench that filled most of the centre of the room. He swept a hand across the top, “And this maybe a good spacious surface for your interns to chop and grind… and stuff… again, obviously. Yeah.” – did he just say grind and stuff?

Harry raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question aimed at Snape who’s eyes sparkled like a kid in a candy store, but he held his bland expression when he only said, “It is adequate.”

Harry was partly exasperated, partly amused. “We get quite a few interns through the doors on a regular basis – they all have to do a stint in Potions preparation. Mostly they are occupied brewing the more common potions in large quantities in a different lab. But you can stipulate how many assistants you might need to help prepare ingredients, and they’ll be drawn from that pool of student Healers and Mediwitches and -wizards.”

“So long as they can achieve my exacting standards, that shall be acceptable.”

“I have no doubt they will apply themselves to your pedantic requirements,” Harry ducked his head and bit his lip to hide a smile and avoid Snape’s glare. After a moment, he cleared his throat and continued, “And finally, regarding your ingredients, I would have offered to stock the lab for you, but I have no doubt you have preferred sources and suppliers so please order from wherever you see fit. There will be a budget, but I’ll ensure it’s generous. There must be a cap on the expenditure of common ingredients, I imagine you are a skilled negotiator, which will allow us to afford those that are rare. They will need to be motivated for ad hoc outside of the main budget for review by me. You can submit those to Draco, he’ll pass them along.”

Harry had said all of that quite fast, he realised when he was done, and he was feeling slightly out of breath at this, even if he hadn’t at the stairs earlier. Snape turned his head away when Harry scrubbed the back of his neck. No doubt Snape was aggravated by having expensive ingredients approved by Harry – or just as likely even, ha ha, the state of his hair. He was often chided by Hermione and Draco both that this gesture made his hair stick up in the back. Harry self-consciously tried to smooth it down some but then not sure why he was bothering dropped his hand.

“Questions?”

This brought Snape’s attention back to Harry, his features schooled into his usual apparently bored mien. Harry wasn’t fooled; it was the perfect space for brewing. Harry knew this the moment he saw it. He couldn’t believe it had stood empty for so long.

“Not at this time.”

“Great!” Harry said a little too loudly and it echoed in the room. He walked around Snape, back towards the door. Their shoulders brushed. Harry had intended to step further around him, but he misjudged or maybe Snape moved at the same time. A frisson of delight ran through Harry’s spine. He resolutely ignored it.

“I’ll… uh… get Draco to provide you with the contract and you can ask him, well, whatever.” Harry paused, stopping suddenly and spun around to face Snape. He was closer than Harry expected, and Snape almost bumped into him. Harry was right at the doorjamb so he couldn’t retreat further. After a beat, Snape stepped back half a pace. Harry hoped his expression looked more apologetic than he felt.

“That is to say, if you accept the position. Obviously. I didn’t mean to presume.”

“You did presumptuously keep referring to everything as ‘your’,” Snape gestured to himself.

“I did? Er….”

“I shall need to look over the contract, but I tentatively accept.”

“Great,” Harry repeated at normal volume this time. He spun again and left the lab, crossing the smaller room in three strides and pushed through the outer door. Conscious of Snape’s lack of stamina, Harry didn’t take the stairs two at a time like he usually did.

 

While Snape seemed content to walk back in silence, Harry was feeling the pressure of speech. Just as he was about to open his mouth to say something – undoubtedly stupid – a Mediwitch came dashing towards them.

“There you are.”

Harry hadn’t renewed the Disillusionment spell, deciding it wouldn’t matter for the way back. Thank Hippocrates he hadn’t done so. “What’s up, Sarah?”

“It’s Navya.”

“Master Snape, if you’ll excuse me, I trust you can find your own way out.”

Without waiting for a reply, they walked away briskly. Harry slightly bent towards the shorter woman as she updated him. Then he took off running leaving the Mediwitch behind as well.

Notes:

* Yes, that is a reference to the play/movie A Few Good Men

Has anyone figured out the letters in FRADJALiSTiC?

Chapter 4

Notes:

I did remember, after I shut down my laptop as expected, what I wanted to say last time which is that I only really log in when I post a new chapter. Which in turn means that is when I answer comments as well. So, even if I don't answer right away, I will. You can be sure I see them as they come in, not because I'm compulsively checking or anything, and I enjoy every one of them!

ssSSss

 

Severus left the hospital feeling overwhelmed. His mind swirling with all the information Potter had spewed forth. Mostly.

It was also occupied with flashing images of the man himself. All of them a bit disturbing for taking him somewhat unaware and for how much he indulged them. In his defence, Potter was… conventionally attractive and Snape in his prime, for a Wizard, capable of acknowledging him so.

Images like that of Potter’s look of surprise at seeing him. How Potter’s shirt stretched across his lean, firm torso as he had writhed into his lab coat. Again, the shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, but with a plain navy tie this time. He wore Muggle jeans and Snape would not admit upon pain of death that he was disappointed that the lab coat reached mid-way to his knees as he watched it swish behind Potter as they walked.

His mind was compiling a list of standard ingredients he needed before being interrupted by the image of Potter’s apparent lack of a wand when he cast the Disillusionment Charm. What was the necessity of that? Probably the Boy Wonder was swamped by admirers still wherever he went. Although he is no longer a boy, Severus had to concede, and he had been called away almost as soon as they re-entered the corridor so perhaps that was the reason.

His mind was diverted briefly with more exotic ingredients but before he could start contemplating possible motivations for them, he was remembering how Potter arrived at the lab not in the slightest out of breath – Severus had been undeniably a little short, but a couple weeks of those stairs and he would be just as fit as he used to be at Hogwarts for the same reason. He remembered how Potter’s hair stood up when he rubbed the back of his neck. He remembered watching out of the corner of his eye how he amended the unconscious movement to a conscious smoothing motion instead. Snape wondered why he seemed to care suddenly about the state of his untameable mop.

Again, his practical brain intruded with a list of suppliers he needed to contact before it drifted again. Back to Potter brushing up against him – did he mean to? Or Severus would have to concede he might have swayed slightly into his path. Back to how he almost crashed into Potter on his abrupt turnabout by the door – he might readily admit he perhaps, possibly, maybe lingered a beat too long before stepping back. Had Harry noticed?

Harry? Where had that come from all of a sudden? Since when did he think of him as anything but Potter?

Severus thought he might have heard Potter murmur something earlier in his office about an intention to strangle Draco. He might find Severus had beaten him to it.

 

Severus did not see Potter at all as he went about preparing for his new position. After reviewing and signing the contract, all his requisitions for equipment and furniture for the office went through Draco. Severus had initially not realised that Draco worked for Potter and not for St Mungo’s in general. It wasn’t until later that he realised Narcissa had possibly been trying to tell him, and he may have interrupted her a few times. Severus felt somewhat mortified at his rudeness, Narcissa had been very tolerant in retrospect, he himself would never have countenanced such behaviour. Appallingly, it seemed travelling alone to remote places on his own for the most part had divested him of his manners. He would send her a gift for advising he speak to Draco.

 

When he notified Draco that he got the job over tea in Diagon Alley later that same day, he felt compelled to add the borders to the puzzle that Harry was turning out to be.

“I got the impression that Potter was at Scorpius’ birthday alone. Where was Ginevra?”

“You really did extricate yourself thoroughly from Wizarding Britian. Harry isn’t married, nor is he, well… I’m not sure if I can say. Although it was rather obscenely plastered all over the papers and I’m sure you would find out anyway. Harry is gay.”

Severus occluded his shock at this revelation, “But they were together at the end of your sixth year. It looked to be headed for wedding bells and two and a half sprogs.”

Draco narrowed his eyes and pulled his mouth in clear disapproval, “It is not for me to tell what happened between them. And as for children, he mentioned adopting once but then he got busy and anyway children tend to adopt him. They’re drawn to him like moths to a flame.”

“I noticed that at the child’s birthday party. They swarmed him the moment he stepped outside.” Draco’s eyebrows briefly bounce on his forehead for some reason.

“About half the kids at the party are his godchildren–”

“Most, how many does he have?”

“Seven.”

“Seven? One godchild was more than enough.”

“Thanks,” Draco said sardonically before continuing where he’d been interrupted. “The children living at FRADJALiSTiC follow him about like little ducklings. And then there are his patients who adore him.”

Ignoring for a moment that strange reference, he recalled Narcissa using the word as well, “How did Potter end up becoming a Healer? I would have bet my vault at Gringotts that he would have gone straight into Auror Training after lazing about in the so-called eighth year Minerva offered you all.”

“Harry didn’t return to Hogwarts with us. That first three months afterwards was all funerals and perverse celebrations of victory. He was miserable. I visited you several times while you were in the coma, and he was there more often than not. Between he and I, then, it was strained politeness at best. He always left the room when I arrived and always went back in after I was done. I asked him once why he was even there. He had a sort of wistful smile on his face, the first genuine one I had seen on him probably…, Merlin now that I think about it, since sixth year after they won that first Quidditch match of the season,” Draco paused a moment, seeming sad at the thought, “and he said: ‘I’m figuring out some stuff’.

“Then you woke up and… absconded” – Severus made a face at the word choice – “and he sort of disappeared as well. The papers were rehashing tired old stories for having nothing to report when they were not speculating wildly. He had eloped with Ginevra, he was travelling the world, he was in Elite Auror training in a remote location, there were imagined sightings of him everywhere, supposedly a new girl on his arm every night when it became clear they were not together after all.”

“The Daily Prophet is nothing but wild speculation a good deal of the time. But they did not hit upon the truth even by accident?”

“Indeed. And no, not even close. The last time I saw him in St Mungo’s shortly before you left, he paused at the door and said: ‘I decided, I’m going to be a Healer’. I do not know why he told me of all people. Of course, I scoffed at that. School had started by then and, as I said, he hadn’t returned. Not even Granger knew what he was doing, they kept in touch, but he was evasive, and she was deeply concerned. I figured if he wanted her to know he would tell her himself, it was not my place. And, I thought anyway, how was he going to qualify for any Healer programme if he didn’t get his N.E.W.T.s?”

Severus huffed, scoffing himself, “Harry Potter expects everything to be handed to him on a plate. He probably told them he wanted in, and they let him.”

“I shan’t say it did not cross my mind back then. But no, Harry is the opposite of almost everything we believed him to be, and he absolutely earned his spot. So, as I was saying, he’s quiet for months then the strangest thing happened. He sent me a letter. He told me he was self-studying for the entrance exam and could I recommend any basic Potions books. I admired his guts; he must have anticipated ridicule and yet he asked anyway. Still, kind of as a joke, I recommended Potions Ingredients and Interactions amongst a few others.”

“The book I gave you when you were nine.”

Draco nodded, “The same. He wrote back and told me it was a revelation. He said this would have been so useful in first year.”

Severus was vexed by that statement; he sighed and shifted in his seat. He did not want to admit that perhaps it should have been prescribed to first years – not everyone has a godfather who is a Potions Master – and that it somehow never occurred to him before. He had cared so little for teaching, resentful at being there at Albus’ beck and call and it had been compounded when James’ offspring started school. Still…

As if reading his thoughts, causing Severus to bolster his Occlumency shields, Draco said, “It’s prescribed for first years now, by the way. Harry’s doing. He wrote to Minerva after he read it and made the suggestion.”

Meddling little so-and-so.

“I find it hard to believe Potter managed to get the required O for Potions through self-study for admittance if he was starting with basic Potions books?”

“We started a correspondence. Turns out, he brought all the books in the Potter vaults to the Black library in Grimmauld Place and had been reading everything he could get his hands on that could get him the required marks and about healing. I recommended yet still more books and even sent him a few things from the Malfoy library – my father would roll over in his grave if he knew. He told me he was even seeking out non-magical medical textbooks. I really found him quite funny and engaging in those letters.”

“Thus, you became friends? And what of the practical portion of the all the exams?”

“Friendlier but not yet. And I asked him the same thing in the letters. He said something vague, and I thought perhaps someone else was helping him with that. Even though I know more about him than probably anyone else, he hasn’t fully explained it. Not that it matters, whatever the means he accomplished it.”

There was so much to ponder in these statements and Severus was starting to think there is possibly more to Potter than entitlement and recklessness. He must be more intelligent than Severus ever gave him credit for since he got this far.

“He sped through the course in two-thirds of the time and worked in Trauma for most of the last year of his residency. He has an almost instinctual diagnostic ability. The hardest, most unusual cases began being diverted to him. Those usually ended up being wounded Aurors, which were horrific more often than not. It was gruelling and, as you can imagine, triggering for him. Like I said, he has a natural affinity for children too, so as soon as he could pick a specialty, he chose paediatrics. And he thrived.”

“How is he already head of the department? You are only, what, thirty?”

“Twenty-nine. A lot of hard work and a bit of Potter luck, according to him. But his talent is undeniable, and it got noticed. Just over a year later, he began shadowing the former Head, they made it known he was being groomed to take over at her retirement, which was at the end 2005. And he was promoted into her position and here we are.”

“Incredible,” Severus meant it in every way possible. He had more questions, but they had already been talking for well over an hour.

Draco seemed to realise it just as Severus did, he looked at his watch, “Merlin, is that the time? I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

The presumptuous brat left Severus with one last statement he refused to merit. He had already stood to leave, but stopped to put a hand on Severus’ shoulder, “You will find the contract comes with an unwritten caveat.”

“Which is?”

“I defy anyone to be around Harry for any length of time and not grow to love him.”

“I am sure everyone else falls for the charms of the Sav–”

“Harry has long surpassed those monikers. Grow up.”

Severus bristled at being spoken to like that, but he would admit – only to himself – at feeling somewhat chastened for he hardly knew Potter now – had he ever? Even so, that he should succumb would be highly doubtful. He firmly slammed a voice behind the protective barriers in his mind when it reminded him that he had always been impelled towards Potter through some means or another, by his Oath, by the Headmaster, and towards the very end by a grudging esteem. If he were honest, the adolescent that defied Severus before taking back Hogwarts from the clutches of the Death Eaters was simply radiant in spite of a ragged appearance. But Severus would not put himself into a position to be rejected, and surely Potter had more than enough friends that Severus would not remotely stand a chance to garner anything more affable out of this working relationship. Let alone…

Why even was he thinking along these lines at all?

One last word at the door, as was Draco’s favourite way of leaving a room, adding the kind of smirk perfected only by Slytherins, he said, “Sev, I am going to relish telling you I told you so.”

 

Draco, for all his flaws, was efficient. Nothing Severus asked for was turned down and everything was supplied quickly via his preferred cultivators and merchants. Before he knew it, he was setting things up in the lab and interviewing potential assistants of his own. Well, more like testing. Scrupulously.

Severus was sitting at his desk writing scathing comments on a written questionnaire of a candidate when there was a knock on his door.

“Enter.”

Draco came in and sat across from him uninvited, “Sev, would it be so much to ask that you try not to make the interns cry?”

Severus sneered, “Send me more robust interns.”

Draco leaned forward to take a look at the parchment under Severus’ hands. He arched an eyebrow, “You are not a teacher anymore. You can simply let me know they are unsuitable.”

“They’ll never improve if I do not give them constructive criticism.”

“And you call ‘read a book, you imbecile’ constructive? I mean, it is fairly general advice.”

“Well, this, whatshisname, clearly needs to start with a book, indeed any book on Potions will suffice since he has made some basic errors.” After a moment’s thought, “You are correct, I shall be specific and suggest he order Jigger’s Magical Draughts and Potions.”

“The first-year textbook, really?”

“I am willing to wager he will not be able to identify it as such.”

“Enough, Sev. They all managed to get into the Healer Academy, so give them a break, please. We have about run out of candidates. Just pick a few and train them to your standards.”

“It would have been nice if you could be–”

“I did no further training in Potions. And I am very happy working with Harry, thank you very much.”

“With? Seems to me like it is rather for.”

“Yes. With.” Draco stood, scraping the chair loudly on the floor as he did.

Severus scowled at the unnecessary noise. Draco did it on purpose as evidenced by his defiant pause before leaving.

Hand on the doorknob, he said “Names, Severus, on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Fine,” he grumbled.

 

A week later he received another visit from Draco.

“What now?”

“Hello Severus. I am well. I had a lovely birthday, thanks for asking.”

Severus gritted his teeth, he had sent a gift.

“I am here to give you Harry’s feedback on your rare ingredient’s requests. As well as an invitation to a three-day, two-night Potions conference at the end of the month in Turkey. Harry thought it prudent you attend and had them add you as a delegate. All the relevant information and your portkey are in the envelope.”

“It is rather short notice.”

Draco raised an eyebrow as he handed Severus an envelope on top of a manila folder, “Churlish, much? What is it the Muggles say about gift horses? Or is it that Harry asked for a favour on your behalf that is getting your goat?”

Severus kept his expression bland and said nothing for half a minute, he did not like being called out by his impudent godson, because he had identified the exact cause of Severus’ aggravation. “Quite done with animal-related Muggle idioms, are you?”

Draco only tilted his chin up.

“While it is short notice, I shall attend, of course.” And because Severus can never truly leave well enough along, he added, “I can hardly decline when The Chosen One has magnanimously thrown around his celebrity to procure me admittance.”

“If it were up to me, I would rescind the offer for that statement. You know what, Harry… …never mind.” Draco left, slamming the door.

How childishly plebian, Severus thought even while wondering what Draco had intended to say – no doubt wax lyrical about the Wonderful Wizard of Ours. Though he was simultaneously rebuking himself. Why is it that he could not seem to open his mouth on the subject of Potter without scorn? Especially since he had been truly generous every step of the way. Severus was even more shameful when saw all but one of his wish-list of rare ingredients approved for purchase – the Basilisk parts – he can hardly blame him, it was possibly the scarcest item and wishful thinking, after all.

Chapter 5

Notes:

Though I alluded to it once in a comment on one of my previous works, I've been remiss stating outright that ppayustopknot is my irl friend and beta - though only having read parts of this one, the reactions in the comments are genuine and much appreciated. Thanks, I enjoy our idea bouncing sessions.

ssSSss

Severus’ portkey set him down in a secluded spot near the hotel hosting the conference in İstanbul – a city he had not yet visited. He was rather surprised to find that it was a relatively small boutique hotel. All the conferences he attended before were held in large 5-star chain hotels. The façade was an unassuming taupe colour with wooden windows on the street-side and white trim.

What also struck him was that a small hotel meant that this conference was therefore exclusive to a small delegation, and he felt rather more of an ass about his snide comments. Not that he would admit that to Draco, who had no doubt passed on his seeming lack of gratitude to Potter.

He checked in at the front desk and was led to a Deluxe Room. Besides the queen size bed, it had a comfortably furnished seating area, and he looked forward to sitting down with his book and a drink of an evening. He knew he could only, and unfortunately, beg off one of the usually obligatory dinners, both would be unreasonable.

But the real treat was the view. He could see both the blue Sultanahmet and the pink Ayasofya Mosques. Before returning to England Severus wanted to explore the secluded Wizarding section of the Grand Bazaar – he heard that he might be able to procure a Halfeti Rose and since it was summer it would be in its black bloom phase and therefore more potent.

 

Severus unpacked his suitcase and checked his conference agenda. It indicated that there would be welcome drinks and short introductory presentation before lunch, followed by two plenary sessions. Pre-dinner drinks would be at seven o’clock to which he usually arrived as late as he could without being deemed impolite to avoid as much dreaded chitchat as possible. He was not sure if he had any acquaintances in attendance, and strangers meant tedious questions.

As this was a Muggle establishment, Severus hadn’t brought any robes. He felt a bit naked for being sans his billowing robe amongst foreign Wizards. But, in truth, it would have been far too hot anyway with a soaring forty degrees outside. He partially ignored the smart casual attire suggestion and was wearing charcoal Muggle suit slacks and a dark green waistcoat over a white shirt. His only concession was that he left a single button undone at the top.

Upon entering the conference venue, he felt overdressed. Everyone else was dressed primarily in light-coloured clothing, short-sleeves or rolled cuffs were favoured by most.

Except Potter. An exception Severus had not been expecting to see. For some reason he assumed that Potter sent him in his stead and would not be attending. Once again, he felt set up by Draco. Although, Draco had left in a huff and may well have mentioned it if Severus had not so thoroughly aggravated him. And the swooping Severus felt in his chest at seeing Potter was entirely due to his surprise.

And so, while Potter was similarly outfitted in camel chinos and tucked into them, for once, a mint-coloured shirt, unlike everyone else the sleeves were down, and the buttons were tied up to his throat. Severus wondered on this peculiarity briefly until Potter caught his eye.

Oh joy.

Severus braced himself.

But Potter approached him with a warm smile and bearing a drink and – dear Merlin – a nametag.

“I hope orange juice is okay, we can hardly get into the harder stuff yet,” Potter handed him the nametag first so he could have his hands free to, reluctantly, affix it to his chest.

Taking the drink from Potter, he replied stiffly, “Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry, these usually disappear after the first day,” Potter said, tapping his own nametag. “How did you find your room? The view is spectacular, isn’t it?”

‘Usually’, he said, thereby suggesting that Potter’s being in attendance at this particular conference is, in fact, unexceptional. “Indeed, it is. I should thank you for including me.”

“Yeah, sure, you’re, um, welcome. If you’re going to be developing Healing Potions, it just made sense, obviously,” Potter said the last word slowly, emphasising the consonants and then bit his lip, which betrayed the word as intentionally mocking. “Do you know anyone?”

Severus, bristling at being made fun of, glanced around the room, “I see a couple of familiar faces although I would not say we were well-acquainted.”

“Well then, I apologise in advance for any small talk you’ll have to endure,” Potter aimed half a smile at Severus.

“What are you insinuating? I delight in it,” Severus returned with a smirk.

Potter laughed and wasn’t that just… something. Severus refused to assign the flutter low in his belly as a response to that laugh – no, it was his discomfort at being surrounded by people he did not know.

“Mmm. Can’t say the same, me.”

“Surely you must be used to it. What with being Harry Potter and in your line of work.” Severus flicked Potter’s nametag with the lacquered nail of his forefinger.

Potter looked down at the action and didn’t lift his head when he said, “Doesn’t mean I like it.”

Just then, they were called to be seated for the welcome.

 

Shortly after, lunch was informal, so everyone sat down at any vacant chair. Severus wasn’t sure if he was disappointed to have been separated from Potter in the milling about, or glad of it. His friendly demeanour was disconcerting.

Severus tried to politely participate in the conversation at his table, but found his eyes wandering, of their own accord, to where Potter was sitting. He was visibly engaged by his own companions and had not once sought Severus out. He did not want to analyse why this irked him so, he did not need a chaperone, and turned his attention back to… Barry? Barney? Severus was amused to see a good deal of nametags abandoned on the tables, this particular man’s under his soiled napkin.

 

Potter did not sit with him in the two presentations that followed either. But then Severus favoured a seat in the back, while he spotted Potter sitting much closer to the front.

The topics were stimulating, and Severus found his attention captured, thoughts of Potter’s current disregard, after a warmer reception than he had expected, was shoved to the back of his mind.

 

True to form, Severus joined pre-dinner drinks less than fifteen minutes before dinner started. He stuck to the walls and managed to avoid being drawn into any conversations. He heard tastelessly loud laughter from nearby and turned his head towards it.

Potter was being entertained by a rather fetching blond man. Who had. A Hand. On Harry’s. Shoulder. Right up near his neck. Severus could see the blonde clench his fingers slightly and he had to look away. The casual intimacy too much to bear. Why, for the love of Merlin, was any of this even bothering him so?

Because, a tenacious voice in his head pointed out, Potter looked delectable in tailored dark grey trousers, and a herringbone checked waistcoat overtop a plum shirt. The waistcoat was also perfectly tailored to his slight triangular frame. As usual, he had not bothered to tame his hair, and it looked like someone had enjoyed running their hands through it. And because Severus could not seem to quell unwelcome thoughts that he wanted to be the one touching Potter so casually and making him laugh – and the one having enjoyed being responsible for the disarray atop his head.

Ugh, the handsy man had slid his arm across his back as Potter leaned toward him to say something causing said man to laugh, rather more raucously than necessary again. It delighted Severus that Harry flinched slightly away from the man’s guffawing.

 

They began to move into the dining room. Being much more formal, the seating was arranged. Still pulling in his chair, Severus felt a hand on his back and, before he could shrug it off and protest at the presumption, Potter leaned in to speak close to his ear as he slid into the chair alongside.

“Master Snape, hope you don’t mind, I exchanged seats with your erstwhile dinner companion since you don’t really know anyone.”

“Saving him from my dour company, how thoughtful. Does everyone bend to your will?”

Potter tilted his head to the side, blinked slowly, smiling slightly, “Not you.”

Was it Severus’ imagination that a ‘yet’ was possibly draped in an invisibility cloak at the end of that sentence. The corners of Severus’ mouth ticked up unbidden, and Potter looked surprised for a moment, perhaps at being the cause for amusement to his impassive former-Professor. “Never.”

Potter looked down, hiding a crooked – alluring – smirk, and raising only his eyes to look at Severus through his lashes, “Never say never”.

He could not possibly be flirting with Severus. It sounded like flirting. It looked like flirting. His body – curse it – responded to it as though it was flirting. He could feel a little warmth spreading from his chest and up his neck. He tipped his forward just enough so that his hair fell forward lest it make an appearance on his cheeks as well. But it could not possibly be, for Severus was not the type of man who was flirted with.

 

Potter asked after the progress of his lab and the appointing of assistants. It seemed Draco had not informed him that Severus was ‘making the interns cry’.

Potter suddenly lowered his voice, there was enough chatter and clinking of cutlery that he would not be heard, “Oh, so I wanted to tell you that I denied your request for that one specific ingredient for good reason. See we would have no need to purchase them. I’m an idiot, really. I don’t know why it never occurred to me before. I’ll just ask Minerva if she’d be willing to let us pop down there and see what’s left.”

“Pardon me?”

“I mean, you know, it has been a couple years shy of twenty, but it’s worth a shot to see if anything is salvageable.”

“’Pop down’ where? And what, exactly is worth a shot?”

“The Chamber…,” Potter leaned very close and turned his head to whisper in Severus’ ear, “… of Secrets, of course. And, you know, the Basilisk.” The sibilants of the last word puffed air onto his ear that threatened to cause a shiver. It was diverted by the sharp sound of someone clinking a flute of champagne denying Severus of asking many, many clarifying questions.

He tuned out the speech of whoever while his mind was whirling. He had heard the story but thought it to be mostly the kind of distorted nonsense that is begotten by rumour. And being that twelve-year-old Potter was the centre of the ridiculous tale, for the second year running, Severus had dismissed it as exaggerated fiction.

In fact, it sounded exactly like the sort of fiction that that fraud Lockhart would have dreamed up – Jaunt with a Giant Snake no doubt would have been published if he had not Obliviated himself.

Severus’ questions were probably best not asked in a public setting anyway, so he filed them away for later.

 

As the meal continued, Potter’s attention was taken away to his other side. The Italian woman sitting there had engaged him in a discussion about Squibs. Severus caught the word and quickly fingered the tip of his wand holstered beneath his sleeve and cast his eavesdropping charm to hear what they were saying.

“… so you are of the opinion that this could increase the declining numbers of your country’s Magical population?” she asked.

“We can’t know yet if unblocking their magic will contribute to more magical births this early on, but that is the hope, Chiara.”

“And you got the idea from Muggle medicine?”

“Yes. I have always wondered what causes a Squib to be without magic. So, when I studied non-magical medicine, I learned that Muggles can develop a restriction, even a complete blockage of their arteries by, what they call plaque or calcification. It formed a picture in my mind of a similar blockage along the conduits that magic flows from our Cores.”

Severus was beyond intrigued and filled with yet more questions for Potter. Despite the class of ’97 and abundant Weasley’s attempts to rectify this dearth (judging by the number of red-headed children at Scorpius’ birthday party) there were obvious reasons for the declining numbers of Witches and Wizards in Britain. But it had never occurred to him that Squibs might be the solution.

“Tell me Harry, is this still just a theory, or have you managed to, eh… diagnose such an occurrence?”

“The latter.”

Severus was stunned.

“We’ve been working with someone in our Department of Mysteries – they, of course, have archives of studies by scholars dedicated to researching, uh… Squibs and erm… the Muggleborn, being that they are essentially the opposite of one another. We have mapped the pathways and tested the conduit theory. While we have reached a sound conclusion, I can’t divulge our methods just yet.”

“Sì, of course, I understand. I heard your department hired a new Potions Master.”

“Yes, he’s brilliant. He’s been given free rein to experiment, it’s his strength, but I also have some ideas to discuss with him.”

Had Potter just referred to him as brilliant? Severus, even if he said so himself, knew he was talented, but it was odd hearing it from Potter.

“Other ideas?”

“Too vague at this stage, even though I’ve begun the research for this other project…”

Severus’ pulled away from the conversation, beyond intrigued. The name Chiara was ringing a bell. A hand on his arm pulled him out of his attempt to recollect where he had heard the name.

“May I make an introduction,” softly enough to not be heard.

“Yes, of course.”

Harry stood slightly and pushed his chair back, “Chiara, posso presentarti il Maestro delle Pozioni Severus Snape. Sir, may I introduce La Signorina Chiara Vece of Ospedale Fratelli Isola.”

Severus took the young lady’s fingers in his own lightly. Ah yes, a gifted Witch out of Beauxbatons Academy that he had heard of who was working on adapting some of the well-known Potions for efficacy and supposedly flavour as well. Merlin knows every single person laments the taste of most any Potion. He always thinks, what do they expect from flobberworm mucus and newt’s eyes and such.

“Sono onorato, your reputation precedes you Master Snape.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement, “As does yours Signorina Vece.”

A hand fluttered to her heart, “Oh, I aspire only still to, eh…,” the same hand wafts in the air searching for the word, “accomplishments such as yours. Call me Chiara, per favore.”

“You may call me Severus. And, from what I hear, you are well on your way.”

“Grazie, Severus. May we speak further, perhaps at breakfast?”

“I would be agreeable.” They decided on a time with smiles and nods, and she excused herself from the table. Potter briefly put his hand on Severus’ shoulder. Ridiculously, it felt like a reward for good behaviour.

 

He was about to ask Potter a question when someone from two seats over on Severus’s other side leaned his chair back and called ‘Harry!’ loudly behind his fellow diners’ backs.

Severus looked at the uncouth individual, a different blond than the one from earlier in the evening – is this Potter’s type? – who made a smoking gesture with his hand. Severus looked back at Potter and was disappointed to find him standing while he folded his napkin neatly and laid it on the table. But he was instantly assuaged when Potter leaned down again, this time without touching him, and asked if Severus would like to join them. He called him ‘sir’ again. Perhaps that was something that should be remedied. Once upon a time, he had to punish the impudent brat for not calling him that and now he wished he would not be so formal. Severus’ is painfully aware it is his own doing.

He replied, “Yes,” a bit too quickly. Potter pulled out his chair as Severus stood. The rude man led while Potter trailed a step behind him but ahead of Severus. It was a rather awkward walk up the stairs to the rooftop terrace with no one saying anything. The man clearly wanted Potter to himself and either he was oblivious or, Severus wondered, shrewd enough to have asked him along to be a buffer. Neither would have surprised him now, he thought.

Once outside, Potter introduced them, the man’s name was apparently Thijs Niemann, although Severus had no intention of remembering it.

Potter offered Severus, who thanked him with a nod, a cigarette first with a brief smile before putting one between his own lips. Niemann was quick to light Potter’s cigarette, wearing what he probably thought was an alluring expression. Potter flicked his eyes to Severus as he took the lit cigarette from his mouth blowing the smoke out. The man noticed and offered Severus a light as well but immediately turned his attention back to Potter once it was aglow. Severus did not bother to thank him, instead glaring at him while the nobody lit his own cigarette.

The shameless man leaned back on the balcony railing, effectively pushing his crotch out. He did not have much to advertise, but Potter pointedly did not look to find out, instead fetching an astray from a small table beside a chair returning to rather lean forward on his own arms at the railing.

Severus was reminded of the previous time they’d shared a smoke. A warm but welcome breeze ruffled Potter’s hair sending the smell of cardamom, lavender perhaps and… a fresh grass-like smell – even with his nose finely tuned to the freshness of Potion ingredients and blends, Severus would need more exposure to discern it properly.

That word ‘gorgeous’ surfaced again. Severus crossed his arms, the lit smoke held away from his sleeve, looking up at the sky briefly before taking in the 180-degree view that he could describe with the same adjective.

A polite rap on the door was followed by a waiter who came to offer them drinks.

Surprising him, Harry held up two fingers and gestured to himself and Severus saying what sounded like ‘Icky veeski lootfen’, leaving the other man to order his own. They had stubbed out their cigarettes by the time the drinks arrived – they could hardly vanish them when the waiter knew they were smoking there. Potter said something like ‘Tash-eh-koolah’, taking both crystal tumblers off the tray, ignoring the umbrae pink concoction adorned with a cherry. The tips of their fingers brushed as Severus accepted the glass arrested by a heat brightening Potter’s eyes for a moment as they met his own – but no, he only imagined it. Potter flicked his hair out of his eyes with a movement of his head and the moment was broken.

Severus took a sip of the very fine whiskey, neat just how he liked it. When had Potter found such things out. Perhaps Draco…. This thought was interrupted when Mr No-man asked Potter if he had a Deluxe Room.

Potter answered, “No, a Single,” and again his eyes flitted to Severus. It occurred to him that maybe Potter had exchanged rooms for him – after all, hotels fill up their best rooms first and Severus joined the conference late, but he dismissed the thought almost straight away because assuredly not.

“They are a bit cramped, no?”

“I don’t mind, hardly the tightest quarters I’ve been in. And, besides, I find small spaces comforting.”

Yet another statement that set Severus’ head to searching for when Potter might have experienced tight quarters. Severus could hardly picture his home, wherever that was, as small. Even sharing with classmates, the dorm rooms at Hogwarts are spacious, after all. His thoughts were cut off when the other man revealed his true intentions for asking after Potter’s room.

Taking pains to avoid looking at Severus still, and with another attempt at a seductive expression, he asked “Would you, perhaps, like to… come to my room later for a nightcap?”

Potter looked uncomfortable, shoulders hunching forward slightly, but smiled politely even while he hesitated to reply.

On a whim, Severus intervened, “Healer Potter has already agreed to meet in my room after dinner. We have some business to discuss,” he hastened to add.

Relief washed over Potter’s face, “Yes, sorry.” And to Severus, “How about dessert before we do that?” He addressed the interloper once more with a wave, “Have a good night.”

Severus gestured to the door and while Potter left through it, he could not help but look over his shoulder, the idiot was pouting. Severus smirked.

 

“Subtle as a Bludger, that one. I really just needed a drag. Thanks for erm… saving me. Uh, again,” Potter tilted his and huffed a laugh, “… or still”. He trotted down the stairs ahead of Severus.

When they reached the bottom, Severus said, not entirely sure where it came from, “It could be a genuine offer, if you might be amenable?”

“Really? Yes, I would like that, sir, if you’re serious, that is.”

“Perhaps, since you are to join me for a nightcap in my room, you should call me Severus.”

He bit his lip for a moment – now that is an alluring expression – “Harry… please.”

Severus nodded his head once and Po-Harry beamed.

“I really do want dessert first,” he said, walking backwards down the passage to the dining room. “They’re serving profiterol – they’re like pillows of pure bliss covered in oozy chocolate,” Potter nodded his head vigorously, his eyes and smile wide.

“Careful not to oversell it.”

“You’ll see,” Potter said smugly over his shoulder as he resumed his seat, pulling Severus’s chair again as he did. Manners, banter, flirtation, theories – Severus was rather enjoying this Potter, oh... this Harry.

And Severus had to admit that he had not oversold the dessert – they were exactly as Harry described them. He made note to seek some more before he left for home.

 

hhHHhh

With another tumbler of the excellent whiskey in hand, Harry settled into the opposite end of the couch to Snape… no, he shivered inwardly, Sseverusss.

He looked dashing in a black tie on a black shirt under a black suit. Tall, legs for days were evidence of that as they stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle; dark, well, in all kinds of devastating ways; and handsome, not conventionally good-looking exactly, but classically flawed and attractive for it – Harry is a cliché. He smiled wryly to himself, a foolish, foolish, cliché.

“So, I was thinking, …” Severus swivelled that inky gaze onto Harry and for a second, or two, he forgot what he meant to say, clearing his throat to cover the pause, “I’m… I’m sure you’ll agree, we should probably go to Hogwarts before first term starts. Minerva said she’d be there from the second last week in August, does that suit you?”

“Certainly.”

“Great, I’ll, um, arrange it then.”

“… Harry, I confess that I do not know the full story of what happened. How did you manage to open the Chamber and, frankly, the tale I heard sounded like hyperbole.”

Harry laughed, “I am sure it did.” He quickly recounted the events, keeping it intentionally brief, “So yeah, that’s it, really.”

“Potter–” Severus started bringing Harry back from staring into the past.

“Harry.”

“Harry, you said all that like it was something any twelve-year old could do. I cannot fathom how Albus allowed it. It is no coincidence that Fawkes appeared, he had to have sent her, which means he knew where you were and what danger you were in. Knew that you might need a sword and Phoenix tears. It is ludicrous.”

“That is somewhat crazy, yeah. Hadn’t actually thought of it like that. Obvious really… when you do, think about it, that is. I try not to,” he laughed bitterly.

“Somewhat?”

Harry shrugged. He sipped his drink, feeling a bit self-conscious at Severus’ outburst, and not wanting to analyse it anymore, “Anyway, as I said I don’t know what might be left but it’s worth finding out because I do know it makes for potent Potions ingredients. And I have this theory, that it might solve a puzzle. I’d like to work with you on a project, to develop a Potion–”

“For your theory about Squibs?”

Harry was taken aback, “Yeah, how…?”

“I may have, ahem, eavesdropped on your conversation with Chiara.”

Harry’s mouth made a surprised ‘O’, “Um, we need something particularly potent but if we use something of a Basilisk it needs to be rendered benign while remaining effective.”

Severus rubbed his chin; Harry could almost hear the cogs turning.

“Tricky. A puzzle to be sure.”

“I couldn’t give Chiara the details, but I’ll explain it all to you. Only we might be here all night. So back home, yeah?”

“Yes, certainly. The Unspeakable you mentioned…”

“Hermione…, oh crap…, I feel like Hagrid, I probably shouldn’t have said that,” Harry pulls a face. “Although I guess you will have to speak with her too and would’ve found out anyway, just there are secrecy declarations to sign. She doesn’t wear the hood when we’re working cos it’s just me and Draco and it’s stupidly cumbersome.”

“I had deduced it is Ms Granger.”

“Ah, right then. Of course, you did. Granger-Weasley.”

“Mmm, speaking of cumbersome,” Severus mumbled, only barely loud enough to be heard.

Severus startled at Harry’s laugh, but then his mouth lifted ever so briefly in a reciprocating smile.

“I’m going to tell her you said that. She’ll be amused that you compared her surname to Unspeakable robes.”

One eyebrow bounced over a dark eye glinting in amusement. Harry had to swallow hard.

In the contented silence that followed, Harry drained his glass. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome however reluctant he was to leave. “I should be going,” he stood, putting the glass down on the table in front of the couch. Harry smoothed his trousers down his thighs, for no other reason than to delay. “Oh, um, so tomorrow night we are free to have dinner on our own.”

“Indeed, I saw the itinerary read ‘at leisure’ but was not entirely certain if it just meant dinner here at no particular time or if one could go eat elsewhere. I was hoping for the latter.”

“I have a booking at a restaurant I love. Draco made it, actually. He does things like this cos it wouldn’t occur to me. And he always books them for two, ‘just in case’ he says but I always go alone. I wanted to ask if you’d like to come along… to, erm, dine… with me, if you like? But if you’d rather make your own–”

“Harry,” – he stopped rambling abruptly – “I would like that, thank you.”

Harry felt his shoulders relax, pleased he said past a smile, “Cool. So yeah, after the session, we can, um, freshen up and then go. Don’t dress up or anything.”

“Alright.”

 

As Harry was leaving, he noticed a sketchbook open on the desk, mainly because his eyes were averted from the bed. So foolish. “You draw?”

“Yes, I like to visually catalogue the characteristics of fauna and flora that I find.”

“The detail is exquisite,” Harry touched the page lightly, “really beautiful, Severus.”

He reached across, the fabric on his chest just brushing the sleeve of Harry’s shirt and closed the book slowly allowing Harry to withdraw his hand. Harry had to tear his eyes away from the slender, pale fingers holding the cover closed, the black polish at the tips in stark contrast. “Sorry, that’s probably private. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It is quite alright, only proprietary, you understand.”

“Right, of course, I’m sorry… again. Erm, so yeah, goodnight… Severus,” Harry takes a small step backwards with every other word.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

After another pregnant pause, not sure with what exactly, Harry spun away and exited quickly. The door handle sounded overly loud, so Harry took care to close it softly. He stood in the hallway, just a step away from the door. “You are a dork, Harry Potter,” he said to the middle-distance, before stalking to his room. He wished they could spend the whole day together tomorrow taking in the sights and the nooks he had discovered on previous trips. He hoped they would finish sufficiently early so he could fit in at least one of his two favourite bookshops in Beyoğlu.

Notes:

This time, rather than mangling French, I’ll most likely be mangling Italian (and later a bit of Turkish) – I apologise to native speakers, hope I got close.
Posso presentarti il Maestro delle Pozioni – May I introduce the Potions Master
Sono Onorato – I am honoured

Chapter 6

Notes:

I’ve amended two errors my beta pointed out in this chapter since I posted it yesterday – thank you ppayustopknot – one a small typo and the other that Harry would be known as the Boy Who Lived across Europe, so I’ve changed what someone says about him in this regard.

ssSSss

After being woken before dawn with the morning call to prayer resonating through the window opened to stave off the heat – some forethought for when the cooling charm wore off – Severus took a refreshing shower and enjoyed a quiet cup of coffee and a lazy morning cigarette on his small balcony before going downstairs.

In the breakfast room, he stood a moment by the door watching crow’s feet appear as Harry smiled at Chiara while she spoke. He looked up and, seeing Severus, gestured with a tilt of his head that he should join them.

As he got to the table, Harry stood, “I’ll leave you two to it then.”

Severus was disappointed, “You don’t have to leave.”

“No, no, I was going anyway. I need to fetch some notes in my room. Brush my teeth, that sort of thing,” he smiled at Severus and put a hand briefly on his bicep. “It was lovely speaking with you again, Chiara. See you both later.”

Severus sat at one of the other unused place settings.

“He is wonderful, no? Ispiratore.”

“Well, he is the Boy Who Lived after all.”

She frowned, “No, it’s not that, for me. Yes, that legend will always be part of his story but Harry, the man, the Healer is disarmingly genuine and deeply kind. He has accomplished much since, especially for his age. Head of a department at the hospital, and yet he still treats patients. And the strides he has made combining metodi Magici e Babbani, are revolutionary and yet he is così umile. You though are what we call sprezzatura.”

Severus raised an eyebrow in question, “I have a feeling I may not like the meaning of that.”

“It describes how one has the ability to travestimento what one really desires behind a mask of indifference in the form of defensive ironia. You follow?”

Severus did not know what to say to that rather insightful assessment, so he hid behind a sip of coffee that was scalding hot, he winced. Her earlier remark about Harry being humble despite his accomplishments in combining Magical and Muggle methods of Healing made him wish he knew more about this Harry. He hated how easy it was to hide behind callous words and he resolved then to never refer to him as anything but Harry and to think of him more considerately. He had to acknowledge he was not James. He needed to show him he saw that now. Better late than never.

“Chiara, tell me about your work.”

While Severus ate a light breakfast of fruit and yoghurt, they talked, right up until they had to go into the first session of the morning.

 

Inside he was sorely tempted to sit with Harry instead of at the back. But he had a notion that he would hardly concentrate, he knows he would likely be distracted trying to isolate the notes of his cologne, or worse even if their knees or elbows should bump one another. What adolescent thoughts he mused, and yet, he knew them to be true.

Even so his eyes drifted to Harry who was frowning slightly in concentration. He noticed him shake his head slightly and quickly make some notes. Severus wondered what he disagreed with.

They didn’t sit together later at lunch either, but Severus found himself engaged with an Australian Healer and a Potioneer from Hong Kong.

In the Q&A session after lunch, Harry raised a question that turned into a brief, if lively debate. Harry was coherent, knowledgeable and confident. It was mesmerising. It appeared an impasse was reached and all parties elected to finish the discussion at a later date.

There were no more questions after that, and it seemed the whole group was pleased to finish this final session earlier than anticipated. More likely, people refrained from asking more in order that they might. Severus could not complain. He made note of a few questions of his own and decided he would rather discuss them with the speakers personally over correspondence.

 

Before long he was showered and changed into the most causal items of clothing he had brought – a pair of dark jeans and a Navy shirt. He’d left the top two buttons undone after much back and forth and rolled the sleeves to his mid-forearm. His tattoo just peeking out the bottom. He also decided last minute to tie his hair up. The bun was a bit loose as he done it hurriedly, but he could always redo it if it fell out.

He did not wait long in the foyer before he did a double take at Harry jogging down the stairs. A vision in a pale blue shirt – every single button tied – white linen pants and impossibly white sneakers, his hair looked like he had been flying on a broom. He had a grey waxed canvas messenger bag with buckled brown leather straps slung across his body that he adjusted as he approached Severus.

“Ready to go?”

“I am.”

“Cool.”

 

Harry led the way confidently, to a nearby tram station. Severus briefly wondered why they were not just Apparating but was content to walk half a step behind. Once there he bought two tickets at a fare machine. Severus made a move to get his wallet and Harry waved him off. They boarded when the correct tram stopped and took two seats near the door, Harry gestured for Severus to sit at the window. The seats were close together and they were touching from shoulder to knee. Severus was correct about his distraction at such an eventuality, and he surreptitiously sniffed the space at Potter’s neck – a musky, woody something, sage and peppercorns? Severus tried to ignore the pixies battering his insides.

Near halfway through the ride, Potter leaned over Severus slightly – he realised then why they were travelling by tram – pointing out the Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi. The movement of Harry’s arm caused a sudden elevation in his heartbeat. He was far too old to feel like this in mere proximity to someone. Close proximity. And not just someone.

“It’s a museum now, but during the Ottoman Empire, it served as the residence of the sultans and as the administrative centre. The tiles and stained-glass windows are really something. And in perfect condition. I have photographs, if you’re um… ever…,” Harry cleared his throat and smiled at him timidly.

Severus actually quirked a smile back, Potter’s eyes flared briefly. “I would be interested to see them. Although wish I were staying longer.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. The short notice I mean. I do usually stay for a bit, but not this time. It should have occurred to me to have Draco make the offer.”

“How many times have you been?”

“A couple. Last time we stayed on the Asian side, so I explored there mainly. The previous one I did all the sights on the European side. You’d like the Basilica Cistern. It’s a Byzantine-era system of cisterns under the city. You’d feel at home, it reminded me of the Slytherin common room the way the water is lit with a blue-green light and there are these vast columns. Two of them ends in Medusa’s head partially under the water which is so clear you can see the bottom. It’s very humid though especially in this heat while the Hogwarts dungeons are chilly even in summer.”

“Pardon me but when were you in the Slytherin common room?”

“Oh, ah, well…. Ha, would you look at that, this is our stop,” Harry grinned.

Severus would hear this story.

They walked a short way to the restaurant. When they arrived Severus commented, “You have a taste for British mystery authors then?”

“I do, but how did you know?”

“Arthur Conan Doyle and now Agatha Christie.”

Harry looked at Severus sharply, pausing for a moment in the entrance. Someone wanted to exit so they had to step aside before Harry could ask, “You remember?”

“Yes and no. I remember having dreams wherein you and I were Sherlock and Watson – you were Watson, ob-viously–”

“Obviously,” Harry interjected, frowning but clearly amused.

“–and Draco told me you read to me.”

Harry made a small sound, a laugh and a sigh altogether, ducking his head. “Shall we?”

They went inside the Orient Express Restaurant. Harry told the host at the door that the reservation was under Potter, and they were shown to a table for two in a corner of the room. Severus looked around at the vaunted ceiling.

“This was the actual train station where the Express ended its journey from London. I’ve probably read that story, like, twenty times, at least. Also, I love trains. ’Cos of–”

“A certain scarlet engine?”

“Yes,” Harry smiled, his eyes crinkling in that endearing way, this time because of Severus had said and he rather liked that.

 

A waiter arrived, “Merhaba, what may I get you to drink?”

“Merhaba, I’ll have ayran and a glass of water with ice, lütfen.”

While Harry was ordering, Severus had a quick look at the drinks list on the back of the menu, “May I have a coke please?” He heard Harry chuckle and Severus tried not to turn indignant before he heard why.

After the waiter bustled off, he asked, “Why did you laugh?”

“Just, even the drink you order is black. It’s how you take your coffee too. It’s silly, but it’s kind of funny.”

How does he know how I like my coffee? But Severus asked instead, “You speak Turkish?”

“No, I know some words, I don’t speak it really. The grammar is back to front. Well, actually English is back to front, most other languages have the same grammar structure. Anyway, I find that people like it when you can at least say greetings, please and thank you in their language, so I learned that before I came the first time. Then you pick up bits and pieces as you visit a place, don’t you. So, I know words for food items and numbers, that sort of thing. Numbers are useful for haggling in the bazaars, you see.”

‘Don’t you’ was not a question but a statement like everyone can just pick up bits and pieces of a language. Severus knew a few but they were learned through effort.

The waiter came back to deliver their drinks and to take their food order.

“Teşekküler. Do you trust me to order?”

Severus agreed with a gesture of his hand. Harry relaxed his questioning eyebrows and smiled at him before turning to the waiter.

“Mezeler dört beyaz peyenirli börek, uh, dört Islama koftë. Ana yemekler bir İskender, bir dana mantı, lütfen.”

The waiter finished scribbling the order and nodded with a smile before leaving to place it for them.

“Have you picked up any other languages thus?”

“Um, French, but that’s from Draco mostly. Italian and Spanish, but once you know one, you basically know the other. Less German than I should by now, and, like, the tiniest bit,” he holds his fingers an inch apart, “of Cantonese and Zulu as I’ve only been to Hong Kong and South Africa each once.”

Severus slowly shook his head.

“What?”

“No, I’m just surprised. You keep surprising me, Harry.”

“Oh,” he looks abashed. “And you?”

“French and Italian – and by your reckoning of knowing one means the other, Spanish,” Severus arched a brow and smirked.

Harry laughed.

They shared travel stories while they waited for their food, which turned into stories about food in other countries when the starters arrived. They were put in the middle of the table with two empty plates set in front of each of them. Severus found he enjoyed sharing it with Harry, who was polite in offering that he go first.

Harry ordered a second ayran when their plates were cleared, and Severus asked him what it was.

“It’s a yoghurt-based drink, do you want to try some?”

“That does not sound appealing at all.”

“It’s refreshing. You’ll be surprised,” Harry said with a crooked smile, suggesting it was an acquired taste.

Severus acquiesced and it was indeed refreshing although he does not think he could drink two of them and preferred his ‘black’ kola.

Their mains arrived and the waiter was unsure which plate was for whom, Harry said it did not matter. When she left, he said, “I like them both so you can choose which one you want.”

Severus suggested they share once again after Harry explained what they were, and he seemed to be the one that was surprised this time round.

 

“Why Healing?” Why not an Auror hung in the air.

Harry sighed, pushing the empty plate in front of him a little forward and crossed his arms on the table. Severus thought he must be subconsciously defensive about the subject.

“… Hurting people, made me unhappy.” Softly he said, “I know how it feels to be…. And, well, you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, after I wounded Draco, you swept in there and I was mesmerised by the chanting. How such beautiful-sounding words could undo what I had done. I wished in that moment to never hurt anyone ever again. Sadly, I didn’t have much choice but to do exactly that, worse, a year later.” Harry was gently stroking a petal of the single rose in an ornately patterned glass set to one side of their table with the salt and pepper, either lost in thought or trying not to think.

Severus did not know what to say. He felt like the silence was not awkward just loaded with memories neither of them wanted to voice in this setting. Severus averted his eyes to allow Harry some private grief.

Searching for something neutral to break the silence, Severus felt warm fingers slide up his left arm. The urge to snatch it away on instinct was strong but he forced himself to resist. Harry must have felt the muscle tense and lifted his fingers, but they hovered there still.

“Can I see?”

Severus hesitated for only a few heartbeats before pulling the sleeve up further.

“Tell me.”

Severus points to each in turn, “Potions ingredients but flowers with meanings as well. Ferns, the tendrils are used in truth potions; Edelweiss aids reflection; Forget-me-not, revival potions; Hyacinth eases grief; Heliotrope for blood-replenishers; Hyssop, protections; Blue Nasturtium for healing battle wounds.” Green, white, blue and purple leaves and blooms were woven in and around his Mark, not covering it but overwhelming it.

As Severus listed them, he had an epiphany – every single one could be related to Harry, not only for their use in Potions but their flower symbolism as well that rang in his head as he recited the list. How had he not seen it before. And, by some coincidence, they collectively predicted the path that Harry ultimately took in life for being ingredients in Healing Potions.

In the air above his skin, Harry traced the infinity-loop that was the snake, and it gave Severus goosebumps. Harry took his hand away and looked up at him, his eyes searching Severus’, who pushed his sleeve over the tattoo. Severus could not interpret the micro-expressions that flitted across Harry’s face in quick succession.

 

Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together, ending the moment, “I’m going to order dessert.”

“I am quite satisfied. The meal was filling.”

“It wasn’t a question. I didn’t lead you astray with the profiterole last night, did I?”

“Indeed not. Fine then.”

Harry grinned and said, “We’ll share again, so it’s not so much,” while he hailed the waiter. “Tatlısı lütfen, bir kaşık fıstık, kiraz ve çikolata dondurma, iki kaseler.”

It was the best ice-cream he had ever tasted, the pistachio, cherry and chocolate flavours a well-selected combination.

“Right? Their milk here is fantastic so all of the dairy products are amazing,” Harry said by way of explanation at Severus’ blissful face.

Severus thought Harry also blushed at his expression. It was the perfect end to a lovely meal.

Harry excused himself to pop to the WC. When he came back, he did not sit back down only grabbing his bag that he was slung across the back of his chair before they sat down. He said, “I have a few other things to show you, if you’d like?”

“Is there not the matter of the bill.”

“I paid on the way back.”

“Harry, I insist I reimburse you.”

“No. Let’s go,” he said as he yet again pulled Severus’ chair out.

He made a noise of discontent but followed Harry out who led him out onto the old train platform and into a short passage near the ticket office. Harry tapped his own shoulder twice and Severus took the hint to place his hand there, to side-along as they Disapparated to their next destination.

When they landed, Severus realised his earlier protest must have sounded ungrateful. “Thank you, I enjoyed the meal very much.”

“You are welcome.”

 

They walked out of an alley and a short way down the pavement in front of a row of shops.

“Ta da,” Harry spread his arms out wide.

They were standing in front of a bookshop. The front was old-fashioned and, under normal circumstances he might question Harry’s fanfare. But Severus had learned he could trust his knowledge here and inside was another matter altogether. The Denizler Kitabevi is a beautiful, beautiful bookshop.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know. Thankfully they are open a little later in the summer.”

Harry held the door for him. Severus did not know where to go first. They browsed drifting away and back to one another a few times, sharing their good finds. Severus was never more thankful to be a Wizard so he could buy an armful and shrink them.

Harry pulled a Canon camera out of his bag, and, after asking the man behind the counter, took photographs of the place with the lens zoomed a good deal of the way out. Severus was surprised yet again, not knowing what was in the bag and intrigued by what Harry chose to photograph in that way.

Harry only bought one book, but Severus did not see what it was as he paid while he himself dithered over two more. He purchased them both in the end.

“All done?”

“I fear my pocket has declared me so.”

“Been there. One more stop.” Harry took Severus’s hand and put it on his shoulder once they were back in the alley.

 

The stop turned out to be Galata Tower. It was getting dark, and the tower was lit already. The colourful buildings on either side of a cobbled street made it seem like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

“I thought since we were on this side.”

Severus had the urge to pull Harry into his arms with the hand that was still on his shoulder, for the wonderful treat the whole evening had been. He only squeezed it briefly. Harry leaned into it a little and looked at Severus side-on. He was definitely blushing and wore a small smile. Severus had thought he could not possibly be more attracted to Harry, he was doomed.

They walked up the street towards the building, Harry trailing behind snapping shots. They continued down another street with buildings covered in ivy, loops of the same across the road.

Harry caught up to him, putting his camera away, “Let’s go back. I’d very briefly considered Apparating us onto some of the historical sites, but I have more respect for them to do that.”

“I should hope so.”

Harry grinned again. They stepped into an alcove, and this time he took Severus’ hand before Disapparating them.

 

When they came out the other side, Harry seemed to hesitate to let go and Severus tightened his own a little so that he did not. Harry’s eyes widened marginally; he looked down at their still joined hands swinging them forward and back, forward and back, a slight, dreamy smile on his face.

Severus knew it was a risk to be seen as this was very much not condoned here, but he would be prepared to Obliviate a Muggle to keep holding Harry’s hand.

 

hhHHhh

Harry felt like he did when he was executing a steep Wronski Feint – heart racing in his ears, slightly dizzy – as they walked quickly across the lobby, there was only a night clerk at the desk who, thankfully, wasn’t Turkish. While his eyes did flick down briefly, he smiled at them with vague politeness and returned to typing on the computer for which Harry was grateful.

They climbed the stairs more slowly, it felt like by unspoken agreement, that they didn’t want the evening to end. Harry’s belly seemed to hold an elusive Snitch.

They stopped in front of Severus’ door, “Oh, I… ah, got you something.”

Severus looks stunned, an expression Harry had often seen this evening.

He reached into his bag and unshrank the book he bought at the Kitabevi, all without letting go of Severus’ hand. It was a copy of Murder on the Orient Express.

“So that you’ll remember this.”

“How could I forget?” Looking down at the book, Severus rubbed a thumb over the cover, “Thank you, Harry.” Before Harry could blink, Severus leaned forward and placed a fleeting peck on his cheek.

Harry could feel a flush rocket up his neck and onto his face. A little breathlessly, he said, “It’s a pleasure.” He swallowed to make room for some air and Severus’ eyes were drawn to his throat at the movement.

Biting his lip, Harry slowly pulled his hand out of Severus’ loose hold, lingering when it reached the smooth shiny nails as he took a step back. Smiling to himself he turned away but paused at the stairs. Severus was looking at the book again, apparently awestruck. He must have felt Harry’s eyes because he looked over to where he was stood. They didn’t smile but a frisson went through Harry. He practically floated down the stairs. His only thought was: is this real? He pinched himself on the back of his hand to be sure it wasn’t a dream, truthfully somewhat surprised that it did hurt. Maybe his extraordinary, infamous, Potter luck that swung in roundabouts for and against him was taking a turn being in his favour.

 

ssSSss

Sleep eluded Severus for some time, partly because he decided to start reading the novel, but his attention kept drifting to the soft way Harry had touched his tattooed arm. The small thoughtful moments during their outing charmed him, more than just that evening, Harry’s thoughtfulness, throughout the whole conference in fact. Severus could not call that tiny, fleeting kiss – a peck, barely – anything but thoughtless, impulsive, spontaneous, impetuous, the synonyms went on, and just a bit… thrilling.

A little worse for wear then after too few hours’ sleep – and with a resolve to be open to letting himself revel in how good Harry made him feel – Severus sat with Harry at breakfast. And, although there was no acknowledgement of what happened, it didn’t seem as though Harry felt uncomfortable for it. The tension Severus dreaded – or worse, regret – was pleasingly absent. Indeed, the smile he had been bestowed when Harry beckoned him over to his table was like a second sun dawning that morning.

Harry explained that their breakfast was quite typical: raw tomato wedges, sigara boregi with white goat’s cheese like their starter last night, black olive tapenade, fried slices of spicy sucuk (su-juk Harry pronounced it). He had a glass of frothy milk – evidenced by a tongue darting out to lap away some bubbles left behind at the philtrim of his lips – while Severus had Turkish coffee, black, though that is the way it is served here he pointed out when Harry giggled.

 

“I am not letting you get away with avoiding my question about the Slytherin common room from last night.”

“Yeeeah, you’re not gonna like it.”

“I am certain of it.”

Harry laughed and told him. Severus had to be genuinely impressed with Granger-Weasley. And not a little annoyed in retrospect that he was right that Harry’s little posse were responsible for the stolen Polyjuice Potion ingredients that year, even if he had not been two years later.

He asks how Harry and Draco were so close. He had heard Draco’s side but wondered how Harry would tell it.

Harry huffs out a long breath, “Um, it started out as letters, while he was at Hogwarts after. I asked him for some book recommendations to aid my studies. After some banter, we apologised to one another. I was, am, determined that no one gets treated as ‘other’. We fought for everyone’s right to exist, not just the Muggleborn and the Half-bloods. Then later, I told you before, I… erm, helped them conceive.”

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Not like that. Medically. And they made me godfather, oh, but before that he kinda took pity on me for my supreme lack of organisational skills. At first, it was little things and gradually he sort of took over just about everything that isn’t my actual job. He insinuated himself so gradually, I hardly noticed, and we became friends along the way. Then Scorp came along and yeah, he’s just the light of my life. I mean, I love all my godkids, but secretly, Scorp is my favourite,” Harry whispers conspiratorially, no doubt for effect since who here would be bothered, adding “he is the sweetest boy.”

“Draco mentioned you have a Quidditch team of them.”

“Ha,” Harry tilted his head an amused quirk to his lips, “I never thought of it that way. Anyway, for some reason I’m a popular choice,” he deadpans. “Additionally, there’s Teddy Remus’ son, Rose Granger-Weasley, Neville and Hannah’s daughter Francesca, Freddie George’s son, and Luna’s twins, Lorcan and Lysander both. I love all their individual personalities and listening to their stories. They say the funniest things. And they try to outdo one another if they’re together like at Scorp’s birthday. But most of all, I love that they don’t know about everything,” he gestured towards himself, hand fluttering in the vicinity of his faded lightning bolt scar, “and they only know me as just Harry.”

“Better you than me, one was quite enough.”

“Yeah, but that one was Draco.”

Severus chuckled, “Touché.” It was the first time he allowed himself to laugh aloud, although he found Harry’s sense of humour to be witty, in turns teasing Severus and being self-deprecating. His laugh lit up Harry’s eyes, and he definitely wanted to do that again.

 

hhHHhh

“I really wish we were here for at least another night, like you said. There is another bookshop that I love in Beyoğlu. It is more modern, light and airy with tall bookshelves and sliding ladders along the walls called Robinson Crusoe 389.”

“Sounds quite wonderful. When does your portkey depart?”

“Oh, it is. Just after checkout at ten.”

Even though he was looking at his food, Harry thought Severus looked disappointed. He said, “If you were staying longer, I thought you might like to accompany me to the Grand Bazaar. It seems Draco had some forethought and had mine spelled to depart at three o’clock.”

“I’d like that, actually. I’ll change it to be activated by password instead of at a specific time.”

“Is that legal?”

“Erm…,” Harry scrunched his nose.

“Harry Potter to whom the rules do not apply.”

“Well see, I’m going straight home, I know no one will be there. If I were landing at the Portkey Authority in the Ministry, different story.”

Severus made his scepticism known in the usual way. Harry laughed and caused him to lower the eyebrow and duck his smile down at his coffee.

 

They went by tram again because Severus said he enjoyed it yesterday when Harry asked how he wanted to get there.

“Did you manage to fit all your book purchases into your suitcase?”

“Even shrunken, it was certainly a squeeze, I considered leaving something else behind. I’ll certainly have to buy another small bag for whatever I purchase today.”

Harry burst out laughing a bit hysterically, picturing Severus sitting on a suitcase with his belongings bulging out the sides. Severus’ eyebrow was raised, again, at him but looked amused beneath it, so Harry knew the disdain was feigned.

When Harry calmed down, he said, “You really must go see the Basilica I told you about and the Hagia Sophia when you come again.”

“When?”

“Well, yes, this one is in Turkey annually and…, I mean, unless you’re no longer at the hospital, we’ll be sending you again.”

“I do not think I will be changing this arrangement anytime soon,” Severus said, his eyes intense and Harry couldn’t help but think – hope – maybe, just maybe, he meant it in more ways than one.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, willing a blush not to make assumptions on his behalf.

 

They walked through both the non-magical and Wizarding sections of the Kapali Carsi at a leisurely pace.

Harry helped Severus haggle with the vendors. And he came away bearing a copper Turkish coffee pot with a carved wooden handle and a lovely stylised Tulip pattern engraved on the surface with two matching porcelain coffee cups and saucers; pistachio Hacı Bekir Turkish Delight for Minerva – he threw in a lemon one as well in honour of Albus; what Severus protested was far too much chocolate, Harry only exclaimed ‘Trust Me!’; bags, jars and boxes of various spices and potions ingredients including the sought after Halfeti Rose – Severus did a good job of ‘losing interest’ when the initial price was exorbitant but Harry could see the purveyor wasn’t fooled and they still paid an inflated if ‘discounted’ price; a Turkish hanging mosaic lamp, brass filigree findings top and bottom, suspended on a brass chain – Harry rolled his eyes and laughed when he chose green glass; and a handsome medium-sized leather carry bag in which to take it all home.

As they walked around, Severus picked up the words for ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ mimicking Harry as he repeated it a few times for him at his request.

They grabbed a simit each for lunch; Harry couldn’t help but brush a couple sesame seeds away from the side of Severus’ mouth and he was rewarded with a small smile. Harry cajoled Severus into trying one more type of sweet and they indulged in some syrupy tulumba tatalısı, Harry casting a cleaning charm on their sticky fingers afterwards.

 

Far too soon, it came time to leave.

They ambled into an alleyway, once they were far enough down not to be seen, Harry put a hand on Severus’ upper arm and kissed him on each cheek, “It’s how the Turkish do it.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” he replied with a grin, “I’m a terrible liar, so it must be true.”

“Thank you, again, Harry. For having me attend. The conference was genuinely interesting. Everything else has been… more than I expected.”

“The pleasure was mine, Severus. I’ll see you on Monday then.” That seemed much too far away, and Harry felt sure Severus would be occupying much of his thoughts over the weekend.

“Monday.”

Harry lifted a hand in a wave and activated his portkey with the password, “Agatha Christie.” He saw Severus smile more widely than he’d yet seen in the moment before he left.

Notes:

Sorry for the super long notes section – I combined two shorter chapters so their notes had to be combined as well - only to literally just discover before posting, I'd somehow got the word count wrong and the chapter is now almost twice as long as the others so far. Oh well!

Ispiratore – Inspiring
metodi Magici e Babbani – Magical and Muggle methods
così umile – so humble
sprezzatura – [I am aware that this word also refers to ‘the art of making something difficult look easy’ – which also happens to describe Snape’s ability with Potions – however, I found this additional meaning on the Wiki page for this word and, yes, I know Wikipedia isn’t exactly the best source but I wanted one word that said a lot in this vein and here we are.]
travestimento – disguise
Now, I did actually learn some Turkish, although it doesn’t necessarily mean I got all this right – but remember this is Harry saying what bits he’s learned by travelling and he’s not capable of full sentences.
Merhaba – [typical greeting that means welcome and, more colloquially, hello]
Ayran – [a cold, salty, yoghurt drink made with water]
lütfen - please
Teşekküler – thank you
Mezeler dört beyaz peyenirli börek, uh, dört Islama koftë. Ana yemekler bir İskender, bir dana mantı – Appetizers four white cheese [savoury, fried or baked pastries of flaky dough rolled or layered with various fillings], four [Turkish meatballs]. Main courses one [popular Turkish meat dish in a tomato sauce], one beef [stuffed dumplings].
Tatlısı lütfen, bir kaşık fıstık, kiraz ve çikolata dondurma, iki kaseler – Dessert one scoop pistachio, cherry and chocolate ice cream, two bowls
Denizler Kitabevi – [the name of a real bookshop, literally Bookshop of the Seas]
sigara boregi – börek shaped like cigars
sucuk – a spicy sausage, cut into rounds and fried
simit – a circular bread typically encrusted with sesame seeds
tulumba tatalısı – fried batter soaked in syrup [slightly, just slightly less sweet than it sounds]

Chapter 7

Notes:

Since I popped in to fix those errors in the previous chapter, I decided I may as well post another. And then today my beta came to my rescue again (da dada daaahhh!) spotting two more errors for me - thank you!!!

hhHHhh

He was not wrong about the near perpetual thoughts of Severus. He thought it entirely possible that the whole thing was some elaborate dream, but he had the photographs to prove it. As he scrolled though the images, deleting blurry or imperfectly framed shots, he also picked out those he might block mount for the wall in his home that chronicled his travels.

He selected a close-up of a few book spines – red, green and black with gold and silver ornamental designs on two of them, and the partial word ‘The’ on the third – with slightly worn covers, the pages in various shades of amber. The second image was of the overlapping framed artworks on the wall by the stairs, through the balustrade that is out of focus in front of them.

The final photograph is his favourite by far, it is another close-up of a book in Severus’ hands, only showing a sliver of the black cover bowed under a striped purple and blue headband at the binding edge. It was focussed on his forefinger pointed at the centre of the book to hold open the cream-coloured pages, black lacquered nail reflecting the light overhead. He thought the three of them perfectly captured the bookshop which he decided would represent this trip.

He saved them to a memory stick for printing. Before he ejected it from his laptop, he added a fourth image, another sneaked shot of Severus walking down the street towards Galata Tower, quite far ahead of where Harry was kneeling for the angle. His hands were held behind his back, his face a Roman profile with a tendril of hair at his temple that escaped from the bun. His dark clothes were contrasted against the colourful buildings and the golden glow of the tower in the background. He looked striking. Harry was pleased Severus hadn’t turned around and seen him.

He planned to gift it to Severus. He imagined he would be somewhat vexed at having been caught unawares thus, but Harry hoped he will also appreciate it as a reminder of a truly wonderful evening.

 

On Monday, he had to face Draco. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret from his best friend and was somewhat dreading it.

They met first thing every week so Draco could reprise Harry of the essential outcomes of staff meetings, go over his schedule and other boring admin stuff. They usually did that part quickly so they could get to the parts of their lives they hadn’t shared during the course of the previous week. Frequently, for example, gems from Scorpius’ trademark Philosophical Wisdom.

“… and Astoria tells me the little bugger actually said, ‘Mommy, why is daddy all alone outside?’ The answer is because he went inside and didn’t tell me he had no plans of coming back out. I thought he popped inside to go to the loo or grab a snack or something, I’m standing there shuffling my feet Quaffle in hand, thinking how long does it take to make a wee?”

Harry laughs, “That kid. We should record these things for posterity. Or to tease him with later.”

“That idea has merit. Blackmail is the currency of Slytherin. And I have a treasure trove already,” he agreed with a smirk.

 

The conversation lulled for a couple minutes, and Harry could feel the question before it came into being.

“Soooo, how was Turkey?”

Harry sighed, “Why’d you say it like that? The conference was great, some really terrific arguments by owl will come of it. And the city is always beautiful although it was a short trip so didn’t see much this time. Really only revisited places I’ve already been.”

“It’s just that I spoke to Sev, and…,”

Harry eyes widened – what did he say? – “What did he say?”

“Ah, so, there is something to tell. I have not actually spoken to him, I just wanted to see how you would respond if you thought I had.”

“Wanker,” but Harry was smiling a bit too much.

“Ha ha,” Draco said, “you are smiling like a dork. Tell me what happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

Draco leaned over and picked up Harry’s right hand by the wrist, “What does this say?”

Harry shied away from the words etched there, twisting his wrist and Draco let go. He put the same hand by his mouth, unsuccessfully trying to hide his lingering smile.

“Oh? Ohhhh?”

“Merlin, Draco,” Harry rolled his eyes. “He just um….”

“Just ‘um’ what?”

“Sortakissedme,” Harry mumbled.

“What the fuck? That’s not nothing.”

“No, uh, not a kiss, more of a light peck really, on the cheek,” Harry hastily clarified.

“Harry, from Severus Snape that is practically snogging.”

“Oh, come off it. Hardly.”

“Mhm, how did you end up there?”

“I guess we kind of went on a date. I took him to dinner–”

“With my reservation for two that you always insist you will never need. I feel so smug right now.”

“You’re always smug.”

“I am always right. Go on.”

“We ate, we talked, I took him to a bookshop–”

“Be careful Harry, that could well be a first offer of courtship in his eyes.” They both laugh. “Finish your story,” Draco demanded with a roll of his wrist.

Harry shot him a glare but continued anyway, “After another stop at Galata Tower, I walked with him to his room. And then I gave him a book I bought… for him,” – Draco lips twitched in suppressed glee – “and then he… thanked me for it, for the evening.”

“Thaanked you.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “How old are you?” He took a deep breath and looked at Draco seriously, “It came out of nowhere though, right? I mean nothing in our history might suggest such a thing were even possible. Do you think there is an ulterior motive or something, I don’t know, like, Slytherin afoot?” Harry does look a bit abashed at phrasing the question that way and fully expects the raised eyebrow he gets in partial reply.

“First, you have, inexplicably I might add, been pining after the man for what, a decade give or take–”

“Erm, give… more like fourteen?”

“Exactfuckingly. Who even cares if all he wants is a shag for Merlin’s sake. Just take it. But if it is troubling your Grrryffindor sensibilities that he has something nefarious in mind, I will only say, I have known him longer than you have, and I just do not think he is like that. The epitome of Slytherin in most everything but this. Frankly, I am stunned, immensely pleased, but stunned he, what’s the word… exposed himself thus.”

Harry was listening, rapt and biting his lip the entire time. He let it go and sighed again. He knew his expression had possibly, maybe (almost definitely) gone dopey, “I believe you. It’s just hard to believe he’d be interested in me at all.”

“I shan’t dignify your insecurities by commenting on that. I am off to ask Sev for his version of events,” Draco said standing up.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Draco Malfoy.”

“Toodles,” he waved from the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

“Arrrggghh!” Harry pushed his glasses up and put his face in his hands. Knowing Draco, he would do just that.

Shaking his head in resignation, Harry grabbed some parchment to write to Minerva asking if he and Severus can drop by for a catch-up, saying that Severus was keen to gather some ingredients from the grounds. It wasn’t dishonest, just a slight omission about exactly where on the grounds.

With his rounds starting soon, Harry finished the last sip of coffee in a big gulp that Draco brought with him, put his lab coat on and gathered the files for the patients he would be seeing. His thoughts drifted back to Severus; Harry had said ‘see you Monday’ so he was trying to think up an excuse to go see him.

Striding down the corridor from his office to the first ward, he realised he hardly needed an excuse; they did have Potions stuff to discuss, and Severus needed to eat. He decided he’d go down at lunchtime.

 

ssSSss

Monday morning found Severus cataloguing and storing his purchases from Turkey, making notes of which ones he would need reimbursement for by the hospital, and which were for his own use.

“Knock, knock.”

“Good morning, Draco,” he said without looking.

“Morning, Sev.”

“Must you irk me so on a Monday?”

“Yes, I must. I came down to see how you found the trip.”

“It was fascinating,” Severus replied far too quickly, steadfastly facing away from Draco.

“I am glad to hear. What was fascinating about it then?”

“The presentations were fascinating, some of the people I met, Chiara Vece for example, was fascinating. The bazaar, what little I saw of the city, were both fascinating.”

“Mhm. And the food?”

Severus stiffened, and put the jar down he was labelling, he should have known Draco had an ulterior motive for his questions.

“In his defence, I dragged it out of him.”

“I hardly think that would be necessary when his face, and, indeed with very little expenditure of effort, his surface thoughts, are an open book.”

“Yes, but he would not have volunteered it, had I not needled.”

“You want to hear that you were correct.”

“About?”

Severus turned around, “You were correct.”

Draco frowned slightly, it relaxed as the realisation set in, “Told you so.” Draco spun around on his heel and put his hands in his pockets, actually skipping one step, he exited the lab.

Severus shook his head, and said to the work bench, “I am going to regret admitting that.”

He startled when suddenly Draco’s voice returned to say, “You will. Oh, and Severus, be gentle with him. He has not had good experiences with this type of relationship, with… intimacy.”

“Please do not ever say that word again in relation to my person in association with anyone else.”

“I mean it.”

Severus nodded at the wall. He heard Draco’s footsteps leaving again shortly afterwards leaving him contemplating what Draco meant by that statement with its rather presumptuous and premature word choice.

 

Not five minutes later there was a knock on the door.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Severus exclaimed gruffly.

“Sorry, I can come back if you’re busy.” It was not Draco back to harangue him some more. He turned around.

“Harry. My apologies, I thought you were someone else.”

“Draco by any chance.”

“Exactly so.”

“He’s a pest.”

“Exactly so.”

Harry grinned – ridiculously Severus had thought of little else the past two days but those smiles – “I thought I’d come see if you’d like to eat lunch and talk. …About your ideas… for Potions.”

“I could eat.”

“Great, I brought sandwiches. Also, a couple Cokes. They’re from the cafeteria but they’re quite good. The sandwiches I mean, Coke is always exactly the same, erm, obviously. I sort of forgot to pack lunch this morning, usually I prefer to bring my own. I have chicken mayo and ham and cheese,” he said weighing them up and down, one in each hand.

Harry had not come any further into the room through his adorable rambling, so Severus went to him, “Chicken mayonnaise, fresh, I hope? And since when does St Mungo’s have Coca-Cola?”

“I may have had something to do with it. And, yes, they make them daily. Here you are,” he said the last more softly.

Severus came to within a step of Harry, who swallowed then smiled. Severus watched his Adam’s apple bob before looking up into his eyes which were alight with the smile.

“That you had something to do with it does not surprise me in the slightest.” Taking the sandwich, he admitted, “…It is nice to see you.”

Harry’s smile widened, crow’s feet crinkling, “It’s nice to see you too. Did you have a good weekend?”

“Please sit,” Severus gestured to a nearby stool. He pulled another close enough so that their knees were only inches apart, Harry did not shift in the slightest. Severus was heartened, “Yes, I had a hard time choosing which book to read first. I settled on Murder on the Orient Express,” Severus studied Harry intently for his reaction.

Harry had, unfortunately, just taken a bite of his sandwich. He swallowed it, wincing, coughing once and took a hasty sip of his drink, “Oh, um… and, what did you think?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, fine,” Harry cleared his strained throat again and threw a crooked grin on the end of it.

“It was excellent, I think I shall seek out some more of her novels.”

“I have most of them, you are welcome to borrow them anytime.”

“Thank you, although, you know, one should never lend out one’s books. I find they often do not return.”

Harry laughed, “I learned that lesson. Hermione is a fiend. She is not allowed to remove anything from my house now.”

“I can believe it.”

“Did you guess whodunnit?”

“Christie is so adept at setting up the characters that I dithered back and forth, but it was not until shortly before the reveal that it struck me that it was a plot. Each of their motives, however, I had not yet quite figured out in time. You?”

“I thought it was something to do with the child but didn’t guess they were all in on it. We’d make a good crime-solving duo since you figured out the means and I figured out the motive,” Harry winked.

Severus paused a moment in reflection, mid bite, before huffing a laugh at how he saw the pragmatics of the setup but Harry saw the affection in the characters’ stories – it summed them up perfectly.

 

They chatted amicably even after the sandwiches were gone. Harry banished the crumbs and cans to the bin, with a wave of his hand.

“Do you do everything wandlessly?”

“I’m not wandless.” Harry lifted his arm to and separated the sleeve placket, “See.”

Severus could see a wand holstered there. Harry was always so buttoned up that Severus absurdly felt an uptick in his heart rate at the exposed skin.

“I had this holster made so that it’s in contact with my arm. Saves me taking it out every two minutes, especially while I’m working.”

“That is quite effective, it is a wonder no one thought of it before.”

“I’m sure someone, in the entire history of magic, has. It just isn’t common practice. So, I also thought we should actually have a meeting. About work.”

Severus blinked a moment at the change in subject, “So that wasn’t an excuse?” the sudden pinkness in Harry’s cheeks was attractive.

“Lunch was an excuse. The work stuff would have been necessary sooner rather than later. I wanted to ask if you could, please, write a list of what you would like to… accomplish here. I imagine you have a multitude of ideas. Also, an estimate of how much time you might need. While I have convinced them not to impose deadlines and restrictions on you, the hospital will still need to see results in a reasonable timeframe.”

“Indeed, I do have a number of things I would like to experiment with, and I understand, of course. May I ask, since I fall under the purview of your department, what you would like me to do for you?”

“Yes. First is the Magical Source Project – that’s what we’re calling it.” – Severus had questioned Harry about the project he’d spoken to Chiara about at dinner while they walked around the bazaar – “I’d like to show you our test results and preliminary findings. I have at least one other idea, but it’s on the backburner for now, mostly because I haven’t finished my research and testing.” At an enquiring eyebrow from Severus, Harry added, “A cure for blood maledictions.”

Severus frowned, “Not an easy task. There are many kinds of maledictions of the blood. One Potion would not necessarily be a cure for all of them.”

“I realise, but I have a specific one we could start with. Perhaps we could reach a base that could be adapted thereafter for other types.”

“Any reason you are intent on this issue?”

“As you know, Astoria was afflicted with one, so that was the germ of the idea. She was in immense pain, and it affected her magic. It’s inherited, an enduring curse in the family bloodline.”

“Ah, the reason for the trouble conceiving? And you are concerned for young Scorpius.”

“Yes, and yes. I’m only telling you because a case study for the malediction would be necessary for you. And I’m sure it would have been divulged by Draco himself at some point. If you were wondering about patient confidentiality.”

“Alright, I shall get onto that list for you. And if you could get me the project files, I can make a start on studying them. Perhaps we should set up a meeting with Unspeakable Granger… Weasley, I will no doubt have questions and three heads are better than one. As you proved once upon a time.” Harry looked sheepish at that, and Severus regretted saying it. Harry could clearly more than hold his own.

He exhaled a breath through his nose, “Ok, good. Yes. I’ll bring them down before I go home. Although, sometimes I stay late, maybe it would be easier if you came up and collected them before you leave instead.”

“I shall do so.”

“Okay, then, see you later.”

Harry stepped down off the stool, Severus, anticipating the moment, stood quickly as well. They were practically chest to chest. Harry looked up at him and took a deep breath in. He did not breathe it out until Severus put a hand on his arm.

“Thank you for lunch.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry’s reply was quiet for their proximity.

“Would you like to do something, one day this week, of an evening?”

“Do something?”

“A movie or dinner, anything else you might like.”

“Yes, oh, a movie sounds great.”

“Are you available on Wednesday?”

“Yes, Wednesday. Any day, really,” another half-smile.

Severus wanted to kiss away all of Harry’s self-doubt, he settled for lifting Harry’s hand and placing a kiss on his knuckles – Harry made a little sound in the back of his throat in response, “I look forward to it. Perhaps we can leave from here.”

“I know a place,” offered Harry. “Oh, the theatre can get chilly so bring a jumper or something. Later.”

“Later,” Severus agreed. It was only sometime after Harry left that Severus realised that he said Astoria had a blood malediction, past tense. Had he cured her then or put it into some kind of remission?

 

In the end, Harry left the box of files for Severus with Draco, who had him sign a document that precluded him from revealing the contents in any form of communication.

A green square of paper was attached to the top with Spellotape – it only revealed what was written at his touch:

Sorry, I was called away to an emergency at a patient’s home.

Wednesday…

- Harry

The thoughtfulness made Severus smile to himself.

 

Chapter 8

hhHHhh

The next two days dragged by but at last Wednesday evening arrived.

Harry changed in the small loo attached to his office. He had dithered at home about what to wear and now wished he brought more options. Olive cargo pants and a black and white lumberjack shirt it was.

He was just finishing up tying the laces on his matching Vans when Severus knocked, “Come in. H…” Harry’s mouth dropped open, “… Hi.”

Severus was wearing blue jeans and a leather jacket. And was that a band-shirt.

“Harry.”

“You look, uh, different. Good different,” he hastened to add.

Severus looked down, his loose hair falling forward. He rocked back on his heels, his expression, when he looked up again, seemed to be saying: ‘this old thing’, but he looked pleased. Harry liked it… all of it.

Harry slung his bag across his chest, checking it for his jumper, wallet, phone etc., “I’m ready, shall we?”

Severus opened the door and stepped aside for Harry to go through. They made their way to the floo bank, eyes following them as they passed, and went through to the Leaky Cauldron so they could Apparate from Diagon Alley.

 

On the way through, they were unfortunately stopped by Theo Nott.

“Professor, I thought that was you?”

“Mr Nott, are you well?”

“I am, thank you. Draco said you were back. I was pleased to hear it.” Theo turned his attention on Harry, opening his arms for a hug, “Hey.”

Harry stepped into it briefly before stepping back, “We’re just passing through.”

Theo looked back and forth between Harry and Severus, “Oh. Well, see you, yeah?”

At seeing Severus’ unhappy expression, Harry thought it really was a piece of rotten luck to have run into him. A small smile sent Theo back to the bar with a wave.

“Friendly with all the Slytherins, are you?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Our year group makes an effort.” Harry hesitated on whether to say anything else, but he didn’t want Severus to find out another way and feel as though Harry was omitting the truth, “Also, Theo and I, we had a brief, very brief, erm, thing.”

“Thing?” Severus’s voice was flat, and it made Harry uncomfortable.

“I was still figuring out some stuff about myself. It didn’t progress past a bit of flirting, which I was awful at. Pretty sure he mostly took pity on me,” Harry sighed and cleared his throat, “Just a snog or two, really. Even he’ll admit that he’s a bit of a cad.”

“I see.”

“I was never entirely sure he wanted me, just Harry, and not him, the ‘Boy-who-blah-blah-blah’.”

Harry can’t tell if Severus was relieved or still annoyed nevertheless, they needed to touch to Apparate. But when Harry stuck out his arm, he was reassured that Severus readily grasped it without hesitation.

 

When they landed, he asked, “Where are we?”

“Islington, Grimmauld isn’t far. I came to this cinema quite a bit when I lived there for a while. It only shows modern classics.”

In front of them was an old-fashioned movie house with a white marquee advertising the movies above the doors, and the name, Screen on the Green, arching over the top in red and green neon. The movie posted there for the days’ date was One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

Harry gestured to the sign, “Have you seen it?”

“I have not.”

“Oh good. I haven’t either. It won the clean sweep of Oscars.” They stood in line for the ticket window.

“Oscars?”

“The most-lauded award a movie can win. And a clean sweep are the five major categories they present. It’s a rare occurrence. It’s based on a book, actually, but I haven’t read it either.”

Severus nodded his head and looked attentive.

They reached the front of the line, “Two, please.” Harry batted away Severus’ attempt to reach for his wallet, and he huffed so hard that it stirred the hair at Harry’s nape. He felt goosebumps prickle his skin and was thankful his collar and shirtsleeves would hide it.

“Harry, I invited you out this evening, let me pay.”

“You can get us popcorn and drinks. I probably got the cheaper end of this deal, they really gouge you,” he chuckled.

“What will you have?”

“Let’s share a large popcorn, and I’ll take a 7Up please.”

Severus ordered and paid, then said out the side of his mouth, “You were not exaggerating.”

It made Harry laugh and Severus smiled at the floor. Harry longed to lift his head and kiss it. The atmosphere seemed to have settled from bumping into Theo and Harry’s anxiety was eased.

 

He carried both the drinks and Severus the popcorn. It sent a shiver up his spine when he felt a hand at the small of his back. The seats were first come first served, “I like to sit closer towards the front, if you sit at the back, you may as well be watching TV.”

“I trust your experience to guide us in the matter.”

Harry tripped lightly down the stairs to four rows from the front and picked two seats just off centre. They settled in the plush pink chairs and fussed over where their cokes and the popcorn would go. Harry was feeling slightly giddy at the whole thing. It should have felt surreal – Harry Potter and Severus Snape on a date – but it felt so… normal. It was perfect.

In the semi-dark, Severus leaned over the armrest and asked, “Do you know the plot of the story?”

“Only that it’s set in a mental institution.”

Severus settled back in his seat and tried the buttery popcorn tilted towards him on Harry’s lap. Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye, thrilled that he felt comfortable enough to go ahead without being proffered the box and that he reached back into the tub almost straight after popping a few into his mouth.

The lights went down and the red curtain across the screen parted. There were a few advertisements and cards that asked people not to litter and to turn off their phones. Harry scrabbled in his bag as he had forgotten to do just that. Severus looked over as he fiddled with it. Harry felt compelled to apologise being that the screen was bright in the dark.

“It is quite alright. Do you find them useful?” Severus whispered.

“Very,” but before he could add more the movie started.

 

About a third of the way through, Severus shifted the finished popcorn container to the floor and Harry took the opportunity to slide his arm into the crook of Severus’ elbow. Harry liked that he didn’t even react, like this was something they always did.

Like an idiot, after he warned Severus, Harry forgot to put his jumper on but Severus was warm so he didn’t retrieve it from his bag.

By the end, Harry had Severus’ hand clutched in both of his, as he tried to stifle a sob by biting his lip while tears ran down his cheeks. As the credits rolled, he swiped at them, Severus sweetly wiping away what was left with his thumb. Harry laughed wetly, “I’m silly.”

“You are empathetic, it is nothing to be ashamed about.”

Harry felt somewhat flustered at his expression, it was… fond.

Then he looked around furtively and leaned down to banish their rubbish to a bin. Severus snickered and stood, offering Harry his hand. They walked out single file taking small steps as all the movie-goers bottlenecked at the single open door. Ever practical, and tall, Severus reached for the other door and swung it open as well. Some people looked around gratefully, and the larger opening cleared more quickly.

Once they were in the lobby, Harry laughed, “You know, no one has ever done that before whenever I went to a movie.”

Severus shook his head, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, “Dunderheads.”

Harry laughed some more.

 

Outside, the fresh air felt good. At the same time that Harry said, “So, um…” Severus also spoke, “Do you…?” They both stopped speaking.

“Go ahead,” Harry offered with a gesture.

“Do you perhaps want to get a drink or a coffee somewhere?”

“Yes, I was going to say the same thing. Which do you prefer?”

“Coffee, I think.”

“Okay, there’s a cool little place nearby. The coffee is pretty good. The hot chocolate is better.”

“How is it that you are acquainted with every sweet thing wherever you go?”

Harry grinned, “It’s dark chocolate so it’s bitter actually.”

Severus rolled his eyes. They strolled along in contented silence, each with a smoke in hand. Severus had lit Harry’s with a match which just tickled him no end, for some reason.

“Stop giggling, you fool. We are in public.”

“Are you saying that ’cos I’m giggling or to explain that it’s the reason you used a match?”

“Both.”

The combination of amused and unamused that Severus managed to convey simultaneously had Harry giggling all over again. When he’d gathered himself, he told Severus, “You know I love the smell of a match about as much as I love the snick of a Zippo.”

By this time, they had arrived and both of them stubbed out and surreptitiously vanished their filters at the door to the little café. Severus opened it for Harry, and they sought a booth by the window.

 

“Harry, hon, I haven’t seen you in years. You’re all grown up. Give us a squeeze.”

“Anita. How are you?” Harry stood to give her a brief hug with one arm.

“Still here, as you can see, but good. And what became of you?”

“I’m a, uh, doctor.”

“That’s wonderful. Doesn’t surprise me at all, always with his nose in a book this one,” looking to Severus, she threw a thumb at Harry, who ducked his head feeling awkward for no good reason. “What can I get you two?”

“I’ll have a hot chocolate please.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “Why did I even ask? And you?”

Severus looked at Harry, narrowing his eyes then said to the waitress, “Hot chocolate as well. Thank you.”

“Coming right up.”

Harry wiggled his shoulders in triumph, “Thought you wanted coffee?”

“I have it on good authority this place serves excellent hot chocolate,” Severus said imperiously.

“How good of said authority to give you such advice then.”

Severus slid a hand across the table and Harry took it, putting his other elbow on the table and propping it under his chin, “Did you like the movie?”

“It was disturbing but the performances were arresting. I wonder if the book would cause the same visceral response?”

“Hmm, I wonder. There is a saying, the book is always better than the movie. But I must say that some of my favourite movies are in fact better than the books they are based on.”

“Yes?”

“This one called Fight Club. I love the author, his latest novel Pygmy is genius by the way. But the movie had a better structure, the director is one of my favourites, and the actors were perfectly cast. The leading woman reminds me of Bellatrix actually, in looks and ’cos could not give a single fuck for consequences. The Silence of the Lambs is another, that one also won the clean sweep, and it’s probably equally as good as the novel. You can read the words but seeing a great actor deliver them is bone-chilling. It’s… um, pretty dark.”

“I should like to see both if they come so highly recommended by hot chocolate connoisseurs.”

Harry snickered as their drinks arrived, “Thanks Anita.”

“You’re welcome, hon.”

Harry squeezed Severus’ hand once then pulled his own free to slide his hot chocolate in front of him and take up the spoon from the saucer.

“I assume you were a regular because you said Grimmauld Place is nearby?

“Mmm,” Harry stirred the hot milk slowly to melt the block of chocolate on the bottom, Severus copied the movement. “I hated Grimmauld. It felt dirty and tainted no matter how much Kreacher and I cleaned. I walked all around the area when I wasn’t studying just to get out of there. Came across the theatre, this place, a few other great little spots around here. Oh, and I have the DVDs of those movies at home.”

“Dee Vee Dees?”

“Discs on which movies, and music also, are recorded.”

“Like L.P.s?”

“Yes, just smaller,” Harry shows the size with by holding his fingers in a circle, “and shinier.” He grinned.

“And Wizards still use wireless radio that need interminable tuning.”

Harry laughed, “I was quite perplexed by that when I went to the Weasleys the first time and saw theirs. Non-magical advancements have gone further even. I have a little device,” Harry made an even smaller square this time with his fingers, “that stores music in code called an MP3. It’s amazing really and so easy to carry around.”

Severus shook his head a few times, perhaps trying to wrap his head around these new-fangled things.

“So, did you have any records then, waaay back when?” Harry braved some cheek.

Severus narrowed his eyes making Harry grin, but his expression quickly dissolved into something more pensive, “Lily did. She had a fondness for Queen and David Bowie in particular, but she had quite the collection. In the summers, we would lie on the floor in her room listening to the same songs over and over sharing headphones, which was a bit awkward, but Tuney would bang on the door if we didn’t plug them in.”

“That sounds nice,” Harry felt bittersweet at hearing the story. He chuckled after a moment picturing the scene, “Sounds like even back then Petunia was a cow.”

Severus choked on his hot chocolate and Harry stifled a laugh, reaching out to wipe Severus’ chin with a serviette.

“I always thought her more akin to a horse,” Severus said when he recovered.

“Horse, cow, sheep, chicken. She has the character traits of more than one farm animal. And Vernon, her husband, was quite simply a pig of a man. Dudley, their son, wasn’t much better off. But then they ate copious amounts of bacon for one. Dudley once ate my very first birthday cake and Hagrid gave him a pig’s tale for it, with that umbrella he hides his wand in, the night he delivered my Hogwarts letter.”

Severus frowned, “Your first cake was on your eleventh birthday? …And Hagrid hides his wand in that ridiculous pink umbrella?”

Harry nodded reluctantly, doing his best impression of Hagrid, “I should’na ha’ said that.”

It didn’t mitigate Severus’ frown, his cheeks bunching as his anger rose, “Albus always said you were very well-looked after and loved. I took his word for granted but he never said you were placed with Tuney,” Severus lip curled on her name.

“Yeah, those are not adjectives I would ascribe to my childhood with the Dursleys. Can we talk about something else?”

Severus looked like he wanted to ask another question, but he took a deep breath instead and cast around for something else for a minute, “What music do you like?”

Harry smiled at the more benign topic, he couldn’t bear to let them intrude on his newfound happiness – wow, he thought, I am actually happy right now – “I’m a bit all over the place. More commonly a like single songs from a lot of bands. But I love Queen too–”

Severus looked surprised, “You are far too young, surely.”

“Rude. No one is too young for Queen.” Harry feigned outrage then recited a portion of the lyrics of his favourite song, slowly and deliberately like a poem, feeling bold enough not to take his eyes off Severus: “‘Can you hear me you peers and privy councillors; I stand before you naked to the eyes; I will destroy any man who dares abuse my trust; I swear that you’ll be mine; At the Seven Seas of Rhye.”

Severus cup was tilted in the air, paused in the motion of taking a sip. He blinked, seemed to realise his dangling cup and took a sip before putting it down with a clatter, shifting from side-to-side in his seat.

Harry was pleased with his reaction, but carried on as if nothing had happened, “And Linkin Park is possibly my next favourite. Their music mixes a lot of instruments and styles. I’ve been to see them live, Draco, Astoria and I went to see them in Knebworth last August. It was a joint birthday gift for the both of us. The atmosphere was electric. I prefer seats normally ’cos you have your own little allocated space but for them we paid for the front section, Golden Circle, and we got plenty jostled but it was worth it to be mere feet from Chester, the lead singer,” Harry paused for a breath. “Have you seen any live bands?”

“I have not.”

“Hmm, it’s an experience everyone should have at least once. Ringing ears and all.”

“I cannot say being in a large crowd of riled up idiots gathered in an enclosed space listening to music loud enough to make one’s ears ring appeals to me.”

“I imagine not. You would definitely not like a… um, club either then but those aren’t the only type of venue nor the only type of music.” Harry looked out the window; clubbing was a subject he didn’t want to go into detail about either.

He looked back at Severus who seemed concerned, Harry smiled but he didn’t seem reassured by it.

“I am far too old for that.”

“Yeah, I outgrew them a long time ago as well. Shall we go?”

“I am paying. Don’t you dare go to the WC and take care of the bill.”

Harry put his hands up in surrender.

 

Yet again, Harry didn’t want the evening to end. But he hoped they’d have many more like it and dare he even hope for years to come yet.

They walked to a spot from which they could Apparate.

“Severus, I had a wonderful time, thank you. Would you like to come out with me again, this weekend. I have a regular place that I go for breakfast.”

“It is my favourite meal.”

“Really? Mine too!” They grinned at each other, well he did, Severus barely showed his teeth but it seemed huge to Harry. “I’ll give you the coordinates then, before the end of the week.”

Harry put his hands on Severus’ chest. And he was extremely pleased that Severus’ arms snaked around him. Harry slid his own up and over his shoulders leading Severus to pull him closer. Harry turned his face into Severus’ neck and breathed in his smoky scent. He pulled away slowly letting his forehead linger on Severus’ collarbone.

“Goodnight,” he whispered when he was standing upright, he didn’t think he could manage anything louder for fear of ruining the intimacy.

“Goodnight Harry,” Severus voice was slightly hoarse.

They stepped away from each other to give themselves room to Apparate. Harry felt a stupid smile spread across his face as he went.

Chapter 9

The following day Draco made another appearance. Severus groaned at the sight of him.

“Nice way to greet your favourite godson.”

“Here to fish again, are you?” Severus was fervently wishing Draco and Harry were not so close.

“Well now that you have dropped the bait, I know there is something to fish for…”

Realising that Harry had apparently not said anything about their date, suddenly Severus felt compelled to say, “Draco, may I ask that you allow us some privacy please?”

Draco looked taken aback for a moment, but it gave way to a small, happy smile, “Of course, Severus.”

Severus nodded gratefully.

“I am actually here to put some meetings onto your schedule. Do you have a diary?”

“No, it had not occurred to me.”

“Alright, I shall get you one from stationery. We need to schedule a meeting with Harry and Hermione. How far are you with the files, you will need to be familiar with them before the meeting?”

“I am about a third of the way through, making notes on terms and methods I do not understand. I should like to go through them at least one more time at a slower pace but perhaps that would make more sense after they have answered my questions. I could be ready for a meeting by next week.”

Draco jotted this down in his Moleskine notebook, “Very well. I shall give you the precise date and time once we find a gap in their schedules that coincides. Not an easy task, I can tell you. In fact, I am going to schedule a fortnightly meeting until Hogwarts starts.” He makes another note, “it is easier to cancel them if they are not needed them squeeze them in if they are.”

Severus nodded; he saw now why Draco was useful to Harry. “Why until Hogwarts starts?”

“Harry is there full-time for about ten days at the start of term. Every first year gets a thorough examination. For the most part abuse and neglect is spotted much earlier in children with one or two Muggle parents. As soon as their magic registers, they’re visited immediately instead of waiting until they get their letters. If the case is severe enough, they are removed from the home, put into care at FRADJALisTiC. But it is not as straight-forward as that for children with two Magical parents. It concerns him greatly, but the Ministry just will not budge. And during that time, he also checks on the ongoing cases.”

Severus was astonished, “It is long overdue.”

“It is. Harry said Tom Riddle was such a child and his case, as well as Harry’s own, are the prime examples for the necessity of the programme.”

Severus shook his head, “I can only agree. I had not realised Harry was neglected at all, although I am starting to see how wrong I was. It is clear he does not like to talk about it.”

“No, he does not. He confided in me eventually, I think he just needed to get it all off his chest, he said he had not told the whole of it before to anyone. Severus, my heart broke. No child, Magical or Muggle, should be put through such things,” Draco’s lip curled, and he scrunched his nose.

Himself and Harry were more similar than Severus ever thought possible. Yet he had only vaguely known that Riddle was raised in an orphanage in Muggle World War II but had not really thought about it in this context. About how different things might have been.

“Honestly, I deem it a miracle he did not turn into an Obscurial,” Draco continued.

Severus was stunned that Draco thought it that injurious. While he tended to overstate things generally, Severus was sure this was not a matter he would take to exaggeration. He wondered if they might ever reach a place where Harry felt comfortable to confide in him thus. Most likely, Severus was deluding himself, and anyway it was far too early for such ruminations.

“I keep hearing about this ‘fragile-istic’ but what is it exactly?”

Draco wrote the name out in his notebook and showed it to Severus. He read the word, then read it again frowning at the strange capitalisations. The beginning of the word ‘FRAD’ made him think of the lost Weasley twin and suddenly he saw it with clarity. The first letter of the names of the fallen who were dear to Harry.

Draco explained, “The word comes from Mary Poppins, a Muggle story about a Witch who becomes a governess for two children. In the story the titular character says ‘supercalifragilistiexpialidocious’. It is explained as a word one says when they have nothing to say, or other origins say that it describes something extremely good. Anyway, Harry donated the largest Potter family property he inherited in Wales to become a home for such children, mostly sustained by donations and volunteers. I shall give you a pamphlet.”

“If I can help with anything there or at Hogwarts at all, I would be happy to do so.”

“Thank you, I will let Harry know you offered. He is not afraid to accept any help for the home. But for Hogwarts he has half a dozen interns beavering away at the most commonly needed Potions well in advance. Also, it might interest you to know that Harry insists that they use, what he calls ‘Your’ recipes over the standard ones – he has them posted on the walls. No books are allowed in there.”

Intriguing – “How did he come by My recipes?”

“He asked if I had any old textbooks of yours. You know the ones you scribbled in. He used those.”

Severus is not sure if he should be angry or flattered.

“Anyway, the next thing is that Minerva agreed to meeting the two of you on the…,” Draco consulted his notebook needing to page backwards, “twenty-second of August at nine. I trust that is alright?”

Severus nodded again, while he scratched around for a spare bit of parchment to write on, “Of course, whatever suits Minerva.”

“No need to make a note, I shall fill these appointments into your diary before I bring it to you. One more thing. We are celebrating Harry’s birthday on the Sunday prior to it, the twenty-fifth. We wondered if you might like to join us?”

“Will it be some large… affair?”

“No, no, just the three of us,” Draco gestured to himself, inferring his family Severus presumed, “and Harry. I think he would like it if you were there.”

“In that case, I should like to attend, thank you for asking.”

“Our house, ten a.m. on the twenty-fifth then.” Draco stood, “I will bring the diary by once I have secured appointments for the Magical Source Project.”

“Alright.”

 

While Severus saw Draco again as he promised, he did not see Harry. But he was good at compartmentalising and managed not to fret about breakfast on Saturday until Friday night.

It felt as though things were going well but he worried about saying something that would upset the tentative getting-to-know-you part. Their past was a minefield, and Severus did not want this to blow up in his face or, worse even, hurt Harry – once upon a time his raison d’etre. Severus knew how easy it was for him to fall back on his abrasive manner that had protected his insecurities for decades. Vulnerable though he might feel, he was determined not to go back to his self-imposed isolation.

As cliché as it sounded, Harry was a bright, beautiful light and he would be a fool not to allow it to chase away the shadows he had dwelt with for so long.

 

Saturday morning, he took care once again with his appearance – he cannot ever recall thinking quite so much about clothes in his life. Harry seemed to respond favourably to his much more casual look earlier in the week, so he opted for the denims again and a charcoal button-up shirt, open at his throat, with the sleeves rolled up. He could not decide on hair up or down, so he compromised with half-up, half-down exposing the shaved sides.

He decided to throw on a leather wrist-cuff on one wrist and two strings of beads, one black and one a dusty blue colour, on the other.  During his time spent travelling Severus found himself drawn to accessories whenever he ambled through markets the world over. He wanted Harry to see Severus not his former Professor. The dark colours were hard to forego to some extent, he would just wear them differently.

Satisfied, he read the slip of paper he found on his desk yesterday for the fourth time at least, smiling at the little ‘x’, and pocketed it – what was Harry doing to him?

Delivery entrance, ‘by the book’

Old Hunstanton Village, Norfolk, England

10 a.m. I’ll meet you there (non-magical area)

– H x

He looked at the clock on the wall – two minutes to ten. Visualising the words of the destination with deliberation, he Disapparated with determination.

 

Severus landed where two brick walls met at a corner. He vaguely noticed that there was not a single cloud in the sky because his attention was immediately drawn to an insouciant Harry leaning, one foot propped up behind him on the walls, face turned to the sky. He took a drag on his cigarette and blew out a long stream of smoke.

Severus took in the sight of him from head-to-toe wondering how he could possibly deserve to be this lucky. Harry had on slim navy trousers rolled at the cuff above his ankles, a blue and white striped button up shirt, navy sneakers with three diagonal white stripes and sunglasses.

He pushed off the wall a second later and, taking off his sunglasses, he was stood two feet in front of Severus in three strides. “Hey,” Harry’s eyes dropped to Severus’ feet and apparently it was his turn to be ogled, it made him squirm a bit. “You look fantastic.” Harry’s eyes lit up – for him.

Severus reached for Harry who stepped into his arms, “So do you.”

Harry gave a slight shake of his head, his smile shy but there. It was not the first time he saw Harry unwilling to take a compliment. Harry was almost the opposite of everything Severus had always thought him to be. He had clearly made assumptions about him as a child and never bothered to really see him. He was looking now.

“No spectacles, are you wearing contact lenses?”

“Oh yeah, I don’t need them anymore, actually. I had my eyes magically corrected when I found out there was such a thing. Just kind of used to seeing the world through a pair. Feel a bit naked, out in the world, normally, without them I suppose.”

Severus determinedly pushed away associations with the word naked, swallowing hard while he nodded silently.

 

“Come along,” Harry took his hand, putting his sunglasses back on as they walked around the building. He gestured to it, “The local bookshop.”

Severus took a step in the direction of the door, his feet obeying some subconscious imperative apparently. Harry laughed and tugged his hand, and they walked away down the pavement instead.

“I know the feeling, can’t help but go into any bookshop but I’m starving.”

They did not have far to walk, but no less than three people greeted Harry as they did. He explained, “It’s a small town, six hundred-odd people so everyone vaguely knows everyone.”

“You live here?”

“No, up the coast a-ways.”

Out of nowhere, a child crashed into Harry, hugging his waist, “Harry, you were right, I got my letter.” He let go and they high fived as Harry said, “Awesome Ollie, I’d be happy to help you get your school things. I’ll arrange it with your mum, okay?”

“Really? Cool!”

While he ran across the street back to his mother, Harry waved at her making a gesture with a fist to his ear, the thumb and pinkie held out, and the woman nodded and waved herself. He smiled at Severus, “Spotted that one a mile away.”

They came to a restaurant called the Copper Kettle. Harry held the door open for a family of three who were exiting, more ‘hail fellow-well met’s’ passing between them. Harry hung his sunglasses on his breast pocket while folding the hand that held Severus’ behind his back so that he did not have to let go as they went inside single file. If it drew Severus’ eyes to Harry’s the tightly clothed, and rather nice, bum who was he to blame?

 

Harry paused just inside the door, scanning the room for an open table and headed over to the one he spotted. Severus perused the menu, but Harry did not pick up his own.

“Anything you would recommend?”

“It’s all good, depends what you feel like.”

A few minutes later, a waitress arrived, “Harry, lovely day.”

“It is. How are you, Heather?”

“Can’t complain when the sun shines. Your usual?”

“Yes, please and an orange juice.”

“And for you, sir?”

Harry snorted, Severus shot him a half-hearted glare, “I’ll have the smoked salmon and scrambled eggs.”

“White or brown toast?”

“Brown, please and black coffee.”

“Alright,” nodding while she smiled.

 

“How did you decide to live here?”

“I wanted somewhere beautiful and secluded,” Harry answered. “Their internet was helpful. I searched for small towns at the coasts and there were other options but there was something about this place. Not sure what it is exactly. A kind of old magic possibly.”

“It is quaint.”

“Yes, it has the necessities, and I’m in London daily in the week for things I can’t get here. I found a quiet spot on the cliff outside of town. I bought a sizeable portion of the land, filed for a permit to cast Unplottable wards around the spot and built a house there.”

“You built a house.”

“No, I designed it. Ron built it. He helped restore Hogwarts and found he has a knack with magical buildings. I wouldn’t have trusted anyone else anyway. Or they’d have had to be Obliviated,” Harry smiled, but his eyes betrayed the solemnity of the statement. “Only the Malfoys and the Granger-Weasley’s know where I live. As for the rest I see them elsewhere. Except you, I’d like to show you,” Harry raised his eyebrows in question.

“I look forward to it.” Harry seemed to relax at that. Severus wanted to think he was surprised that Harry was not living in London, in the midst of the hustle and bustle, close to the main Wizarding centre, but this fitted more with the man he was coming to know.

“And you, where do you stay?”

“In small apartment in Roy Alley off Diagon. I am not sure yet where I want to live. But for now, it is close to the hospital, so it is convenient. I, too, would like to invite you to let me cook you a meal there sometime soon.”

“I’d really like that,” Harry smiled warmly.

Harry’s ‘usual’ turned out to be something Severus had not seen on the menu – of course not – and which received a raised eyebrow. Harry just grinned as he drizzled honey over his waffles and bacon stack. Severus had to wonder where Harry put everything he ate. His slight figure belied the number of sweets he seemed to eat.

 

Conversation flowed easily and the silences were comfortable. Severus employed Harry’s trick of disappearing to the loo and paying the bill instead.

A ‘You devious bugger’ and a huge smile were his reward.

“Come, I need to make a stop first, then I’ll take you home.”

“Alright.” That simple word belied the thrill that ‘take you home’ sent through him.

The stop was for yet more sweet things. Harry bought varied pastries from a shop called Mr Bun the Baker.

“We could walk, it is couple of miles uphill, and I am used to it, or I could Apparate us.”

“After that big breakfast, perhaps a walk might do me good.”

“It’ll make room for these too,” Harry jiggled the box of pastries.

Severus just shook his head making Harry chortle.

 

It seemed longer than a ‘couple miles’ but they stopped twice for Harry to point out some things and let Severus catch his breath. He was sure Harry was doing it for that purpose without saying so.

At a point with no discernible landmark, Harry says, “I will need to key you into the wards. They’re layered and the easiest way is a drop of blood. Sorry about that, I probably should have said earlier. I mean I could do it the hard way–”

Severus uses his wand to prick his finger without complaint before Harry even finished. He presented his hand to Harry, whose anxious rambling subsided with a sigh.  

“Kneel here.”

Severus knelt alongside Harry, as a breeze brought with it the smell of lavender and primrose, cowslips and poppies, and jasmine too, but he saw no flowers in the field. Harry pressed his finger to a large piece of clear quartz half buried there, Disillusioned and with a Muggle-repelling charm for good measure. As they stood, the air in front of them rippled outward in a large dome and Harry’s frankly extraordinary home was revealed.

Harry rubbed his thumb over the small wound and it was healed. He interlaced their fingers and walked backwards a few steps wearing a shy grin before turning around, pulling Severus towards the house.

 

Even though there were no visible trees outside the wards, inside a large Elderflower tree was positioned alongside the entrance with a wooden swing mounted on a sturdy branch. The garden was entirely colourful wildflowers, the source of the smells he discerned a moment ago revealed, but it did not look overrun or neglected. Severus realised this is exactly what he would want in a home.

It was a compact two storey, the outside made of horizontal slats of dark wood, the roof steeply angled down the opposite side. A stone chimney went up the entire length of both floors. But the most extraordinary feature was a whole section hanging off the cliff entirely made of glass.

“Do you like it?” Harry asked, looking back at Severus who had slowed to take in the sight.

“That is a positively absurd question, Harry. I have never seen anything like it.”

Beaming, Harry turned towards the house and pulled Severus alongside him. They climbed a few steps onto a porch that ran along the front of the house, complete with a deep swing-chair bedecked in comfy-looking cushions, patterned in the colours of the surrounding flowers and two big windows. Climbing jasmine covered the furthest end. Severus turned in a circle, to see that the porch looked onto the tree, more flowers and gentle hill behind the house. He could picture having a morning coffee with Harry alongside him for the rest of his life – and what an extraordinarily presumptuous thought was that.

Notes:

Sorry bit of an odd stopping place but it was a really long chapter that I decided to split in half to keep them of a roughly consistent size.