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A not so blind blinddate
„This is a disaster“, Harry groaned.
„Nonsense, it’s just a date.“
„A blind date! And I’m not blind anymore!“ He threw his arms up. Hermione grabbed them and held his hands tightly.
„Calm down, Harry. Just take a breath first.“
„How am I supposed to?“ he asked, already a little calmer thanks to the gesture. „He’s going to freak out!“
„Why would he? What’s so terrible about it? I mean… you got along well, didn’t you?“
„Well, yes, but honestly… he doesn’t like me.“
Hermione shook her head.
„You’ve been working well together lately“, she pointed out.
„We don’t have anything to do with each other at work at all. I think you talk to him more often than I do. And anyway… what would he even want with me?“
Hermione sighed, took Harry by the arm, and guided him over to the chairs in the break room, making him sit down for the moment.
„What do you mean?“ she asked, now completely calm, trying to pass some of that calm on to him.
„Isn’t it obvious? I’m obviously far too young for him… and he’s so much more educated than I am, and… and so distinguished and-“ He freed one hand and waved it around vaguely. Hermione caught it again and simply pulled him into her, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Harry let his head fall onto her shoulder.
„That may all be true“, she said gently, rubbing his back, „but I don’t see why that should exclude you at all. You’re an adult man with a responsible job, and you’re not stupid, Harry.“ Harry let out a soft groan. „If he recognises you and truly doesn’t want to meet you, he’ll tell you. Until then, you should stop tearing yourself apart like this.“
„He’ll probably just kill me“, he muttered.
„All right, that’s quite enough now! Besides… do you even want to meet him? You keep talking about all the reasons he might not want to. What about you, hmm?“ she asked, pulling back a little so she could look at him.
The faint colour rising in Harry’s cheeks probably answered that question all by itself.
„I’d like to meet him“, he murmured. „I mean… the man I’ve been writing to, you know?“
„Quite apart from the fact that you couldn’t resist his voice even back at school?“ Hermione asked with a grin, finally making Harry turn properly red.
„I just have a weakness for deep voices“, he sulked.
„And his age? You’re worried you might be too young for him… isn’t he too old for you?“
„What? No“, Harry said at once.
„Well then, where’s the problem? Honestly, Harry… just go on the date and see what happens. If you still get along well, that’s great. And if not, at least you tried—and you won’t have to wonder forever what might have happened. And you can’t exactly stand him up, can you?“
Harry let his shoulders slump.
„Maybe I’ll just kill myself instead“, he muttered flatly.
„You most certainly will not, my friend. Or I’ll kick your arse, understood?“
„Oh Merlin… and what am I supposed to wear now, please? I can’t just show up in jeans and a T-shirt!“
„Didn’t you talk about how you’d recognise each other?“ she asked.
„I explained where I’d be sitting and… I only said I’d be wearing something blue, and he said he’d be in black. Argh—how did I not realise this sooner!?“ he asked in frustration.
„There are more people on this planet with a thing for black, you know. Just wear the blue shirt“, she suggested kindly.
„You mean the one I usually wear when I go out?“ he asked sceptically.
„Well, you are going out.“
„But not to a club! That thing is ridiculously short! All I have to do is lift one shoulder and half my stomach is on display.“
„Which, under normal circumstances, doesn’t seem to bother you at all.“ Harry groaned in renewed frustration. „Wear the blue shirt, Harry. It looks good on you. And honestly, you really don’t need to hide. I should send Ron over to train with you more often“, she mused.
„Maybe Ron will just kill me?“ he asked hopefully. Hermione laughed softly, and Harry at least managed to lift one corner of his mouth again.
„Now go. Clock out, take a shower, and get yourself ready. And when you get home, you tell me everything, all right?“
„Oh man, Hermione… maybe I’ll just die on the spot! My hands are ice-cold!“
„I think that’s a good sign. Now go, Harry!“
Harry had left. He had so much overtime accumulated that he could easily take four weeks off if he wanted to. Leaving two hours early when he wasn’t currently on active duty really wasn’t the issue. The problem was more that he felt too stupid to manage even the simplest movements. He nearly broke his neck in the shower when he slipped. Then he fumbled the shampoo bottle and dropped it on his feet, and to top it all off, he managed to cut his cheek while shaving. He almost didn’t dare heal it quickly with his wand—but there was no way he could show up like that, let alone apply aftershave without bursting into tears. But of course he applied aftershave!
And then there was the matter of getting dressed. Black socks—that was easy, he didn’t own any others. And then? He rifled through his boxers and settled on a striking blue one. It was brand new, the fabric wonderfully soft. So far, so good. Hermione had once told him that the black jeans made his arse look particularly firm. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
As much as he appreciated being Hermione’s gay best friend and being able to talk to her about things like this—why wasn’t she here right now to help him!? He pulled on the jeans and finally reached for the damned blue shirt. He liked the dark blue fabric with the pointed collar. It was slim-cut and could easily be worn under a waistcoat. But it was also true—any minimal movement revealed more of him than it concealed. What if he found that too forward?
Oh, Merlin and Morgana—his clothes were probably the least annoying thing about him, so damn it… he left it at that. Instead, he rolled the sleeves up to just below his elbows and put on his silver watch. It was probably ridiculous, but it felt immensely important to him to make it very clear, with this one accessory, that he was an adult. No longer a boy. No… student.
They weren’t meeting as teacher and student, but as Snakebite and Dandelion.
Merlin, how he’d laughed himself silly over that pairing… until it had eventually dawned on him that the person on the other end was a Slytherin—and therefore a wizard. And how the other man had teased him about the double meaning of Harry’s username. After all, as Snakebite had pointed out, a dandelion was, in a way, both—deadly, if you took the original name literally, the tooth of a lion… and at the same time just a ridiculously stubborn little plant that refused to die.
Snakebite and Dandelion, then. Oh Merlin—he was probably lucky he’d happened to glance at Snape’s screen in passing and seen his own message there. Without any warning at all, he might well have died of a heart attack if the other man had suddenly been standing in front of him.
Just a week ago, he’d still been joking with Hermione that he might end up meeting Draco Malfoy—and how unbearably awkward that would have been for both of them. And now this…
He ran a hand through his messy hair and finally applied the high-quality perfume that matched his aftershave, then let out a breath.
In the end, he probably wouldn’t die.
Whether that was actually much better remained to be seen.
They had agreed not to meet in a club, but in a bar. Clubs were too loud and too hectic, and a restaurant had seemed far too pretentious to both of them for a first meeting. If they got along, they agreed, they could always go out to eat on a second date.
No—a bar was pretty much perfect. There was music at a reasonable volume, nothing was overly bright, and you could still sit across from each other and enjoy a bit of privacy. At least in this bar. It wasn’t exclusively a gay venue, but it was common enough—and not just tolerated, but genuinely accepted. One of the reasons Harry came here whenever he went out for a drink. And naturally, he had his favourite spot—off to the side, neither directly by the entrance nor right next to the toilets, but within sight of the bar. One of them would have the loo door at their back, the other the line of windows, while the entrance itself remained clearly visible.
Damn it… it dawned on him that he was already viewing his favourite bar like a bloody Auror.
Fidgeting nervously with his fingers, a hollow feeling in his stomach, he kept his gaze lowered. If he didn’t look straight at him, he was giving the other man the chance to recognise Harry—and simply leave again, wasn’t he? That seemed only fair, considering Harry was coming into this meeting with the advantage of knowing exactly whom he was about to meet.
Even so, he naturally looked up when the dark shape came to a halt in front of the table.
„Harry Potter“, the man said calmly, composed almost to a fault. Harry managed to lift one corner of his mouth, even as he was close to panicking internally. Snape. Why was he addressing him? You didn’t speak to someone you didn’t want to talk to, did you? You took the opportunity, pretended you hadn’t seen each other, and simply left again. Or… or was someone like him simply not avoiding confrontations, trying to fall back on earlier conversations to make it clear to Harry that—no. No, he’d actually sounded rather friendly!
„Severus Snape“, Harry replied in return, sounding far more nervous, he was well aware.
„Good. We remember our names“, the other man remarked dryly.
„We’re also both not old enough to have a socially acceptable excuse for forgetting them“, Harry added, smiling despite himself—which Snape, for reasons entirely unclear to him, returned. He sat down opposite Harry. Suddenly it occurred to Harry that his words could be interpreted very differently, and pure uncertainty washed over him. Merlin… what was he doing? Bringing up the other man’s age of all things?!
„Sorry, I didn’t mean to say-“
„I know“, the other interrupted him. Harry lowered his gaze back to his hands. Oh Merlin, he was such an idiot! „I sat down anyway. Or should I have left instead?“
Harry looked up again quickly.
„No“, he answered a little too hastily. „I just didn’t want to - well. Stupid way to start a conversation.“
„I gave you the opening for it“, Snape said calmly, leaning back in his chair with an air of ease. Just as he had written, his clothes were entirely black—a contrast to earlier times, when he had worn white shirts beneath his black robes. Today, however, like Harry, he had limited himself to a shirt and trousers.
„I… I’m glad you’re here“, Harry said—partly to make up for his thoughtless words, and partly because it was true. It was almost amusing how his mind tied itself in knots, trying to reconcile the sight of Severus with all the things it associated with Snakebite. And yet, once he managed to suppress his ridiculous nerves and his brain stopped flooding him with panic, everything suddenly seemed to fit together in a strangely magical way. His companion lifted one corner of his mouth. That was good—and it suited him surprisingly well.
„What would you like to drink?“ Harry asked, now filled with at least a positive kind of excitement.
„Whisky“, Severus replied calmly.
„With or without ice?“ Severus’ lips tightened noticeably. „Without“, Harry concluded with a laugh, earning a nod. He waved over the server. „A single malt without ice, and a cola – with ice, please“, he said politely. The young woman bustled off at once.
„Cola?“ Severus asked.
„Oh—I don’t drink alcohol. Ever“, Harry explained.
„Why didn’t you say so? I don’t need to drink alcohol“, the older man assured him, his brows drawing together slightly.
„It doesn’t bother me“, Harry assured him quickly. Since the bar was still fairly empty, the server returned almost at once, and Harry thanked her politely as she set the glasses down.
„I’d like a water as well“, Severus told her.
„You don’t have to hold back because of me“, Harry interjected; he really didn’t want to restrict Severus in any way.
„I’m not“, he replied evenly. „I didn’t come here to get drunk.“
„Why did you come here, then?“ Harry asked. At the very beginning, months ago, they had talked about how inappropriate it was to meet strangers from the internet. That had been the main reason Harry had kept his wish to meet quiet for so long.
„I’ve found that lately I experience a rather surprising sense of amusement when you manage to prove me wrong“, Severus said. „I wanted to give you the opportunity.“
Harry couldn’t help but smile. It was true—he had managed that a few times. Mostly with very small, irrelevant things, but it had still felt good, and it had only strengthened his sense that they were meeting on equal footing, even though he knew perfectly well how much more eloquent and educated the man across from him must be.
„There is something I still wonder about, though…“ Harry looked up at him again, fully attentive. „What are you looking for? Realistically speaking. A bit of distraction from time to time, regular but ultimately non-committal meetings… or an actual relationship?“
Harry took a deep breath. The topic wasn’t nearly as easy as one might think, and the past few years had been rather mixed for him in that regard. In that sense, he was almost grateful for the amount of exchange they’d had beforehand. Severus knew, at least in broad terms, what to expect—Harry had been clear from the very beginning that he wasn’t meeting him here and now for sex. That had seemed important to him; he didn’t want them to come into this with different expectations. He wanted to get to know the other man. Anything involving nakedness was something he only considered later—and it had also made him realise just how serious this actually was for him.
„In the best case… a forever“, he answered. „However realistic that may be. I know it probably sounds a bit ridiculous, but… I just feel like I’m at an age where I-“ He lifted his shoulders slightly, searching for words, since he’d never quite put it this clearly before. „I want someone by my side whom I can imagine being there for the next sixty years… not just the next sixty minutes. A-and I understand if that’s getting a bit ahead of things“, he added quickly, not wanting to sound as though he were already sprinting toward the altar.
„Don’t worry, that’s not how I understood it“, Severus assured him, studying him thoughtfully.
„What is it?“ Harry asked softly when he noticed the pensive look. He tilted his head slightly.
„I know the Auror Harry Potter… and Dandelion. It simply surprises me that the real, private Harry Potter seems to be neither of the two.“
Harry lifted his shoulders slightly, drawing a deeper breath.
„Those are just roles, aren’t they?“
„Are they?“ the older man asked with interest.
„Of course. Who is the same at work as they are in their private life?“ As an Auror, he had to be serious, often enough aggressive, and in any case authoritative. There were situations where empathy toward victims or the bereaved was necessary—but even then, one could never forget that one represented an investigative authority. Getting personally involved was inappropriate.
„And as Dandelion? I never had the impression that you were pretending.“
„Not pretending, no—but… no one on the internet is exactly who they really are, are they? Anonymity offers precisely that. The chance to be whoever you want. The best or the worst version of yourself… or someone else entirely. You don’t have to look anyone in the eye—and when you’re typing, you have far more time and don’t have to fear reactions quite as unfiltered as they come in real life. You can be brave without truly having to be brave. And you can ask people, completely unguarded, whether they’d like to meet.“ He smiled rather crookedly. Merlin, he’d kicked himself afterwards, once it dawned on him that such a meeting meant he’d actually have to show up and reveal himself. And that had been before he even knew who he was meeting—despite how much he’d wanted it.
„I was glad you asked“, Severus replied. „If you hadn’t… I probably would have done so soon enough. As you know, typing—despite our extensive conversations—is not my favourite activity.“
„And yet you’ve really become much faster over the past few weeks“, Harry assured him, remembering all too well how frustrated he’d been at the beginning, when the other man had taken ages to type three words.
„One does make an effort. But you are, of course, right—the delay caused by reading and considering a response does dampen impulse somewhat.“ Harry couldn’t help but smile faintly and lowered his gaze a little. „What is it?“ Severus asked—for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening.
„I… I like that you express yourself just as precisely away from the written word“, Harry explained. Severus looked mildly surprised.
„Oh? Most people seem rather irritated by that“, he admitted. It crossed Harry’s mind that perhaps most people simply didn’t enjoy listening to him as much as Harry did. Hermione had been right, after all—he’d already had a certain weakness for Severus’ voice back at school, provided it wasn’t being wielded against him with icy precision. And he was noticing it again now. Merlin—Severus ought to record audiobooks. Truly.
„Maybe because they don’t understand half the words you use“, Harry suggested with a smile. „The way language is developing among the kids is honestly a bit alarming.“ And that coming from someone like Harry! But he dealt with trainee Aurors all the time, and even though they were often only six or seven years younger than he was, he sometimes felt as though he couldn’t quite believe his ears when it came to the creative vocabulary they employed.
„The kids“, Severus repeated, amused.
„I’ve been an instructor for three years—I’m allowed to say that“, Harry countered.
„Have you, really? I didn’t know that“, Severus admitted.
„Only occasionally on weekends, since I normally work active duty and only lead certain training courses“, he explained. „When they offered me the instructor programme, I’d just been seriously injured on an operation, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have an alternative, just in case. If at some point I can’t go out anymore… or don’t want to.“ He pulled his lips to one side slightly. He really hadn’t meant to talk about work at all. „Besides, they teach you things there that are quite useful when you’re taking people out on the streets for the first time.“
Severus watched him closely as he spoke and gave a small nod.
„Robards must be very pleased with you.“
Harry let out a humourless laugh.
„Could we talk about something other than my job?“ he asked instead of elaborating. Robards and he clashed almost weekly. They disagreed on virtually everything, and Harry’s mental health issues certainly didn’t help matters. If he hadn’t happened to still be Harry Potter, the Head Auror would probably have dismissed him long ago.
Severus looked surprised, but nodded.
„So where do you live these days?“ he asked—a question that made Harry blink in surprise. Admittedly, he’d somehow expected them to talk about Severus’ work instead, which was probably foolish of him. Generally speaking, hardly anyone talked at length about their job in their free time—especially not when they were in the middle of getting to know someone, right?
„I live at Grimmauld Place, with Ron and Hermione. Well—that is… they’ve got the flat downstairs, and I live upstairs. We renovated“, he explained.
„No more house-elf heads in glass cases?“ Severus asked a little too dryly. Harry shuddered involuntarily.
„Yes. We had an entire army of curse-breakers in before the renovation. No more screaming portraits or Dark artefacts, and everything is bright and much more open now. I’m still not sure whether Kreacher died of old age or more of a heart attack“, he admitted. „Throwing Walburga out completely undid all the progress I’d made with him.“
„The house-elf wasn’t entirely right in the head even back when we were at school“, Severus said thoughtfully. „And then all those years alone with the portrait… I don’t think there was much you could have done for him.“
For a moment, Harry wondered why Severus would have known the house-elf during their school days—Sirius certainly wouldn’t have summoned him back then—until it dawned on him.
„Right… Regulus was only a year below you.“ He tended to blank out Sirius’ brother from time to time. Ironically so. „In any case, the house is unrecognisable once you step inside. I even had the exterior repainted.“
„So by now, half of England has been let in on the Fidelius?“ Severus asked, taking a sip of his whisky.
„More or less, yes. But there are so many Secret-Keepers these days that it hardly matters anymore.“ These days—if not to say, since Dumbledore’s death. But that wasn’t a topic he particularly wanted to put on the table.
„It’s a good thing you didn’t return to that dark hole“, Severus stated firmly.
„It is. We also lived at the Burrow until everything was truly finished. It took the curse-breakers three weeks to remove everything in the house that was even remotely cursed, and afterwards it wasn’t scary anymore, but it was just…“
Severus nodded in understanding, sparing him the effort of having to explain or put it into words.
„That explains the problems with the ‘ex-girlfriend’ back then“, Severus linked it back to what they had already discussed online.
„Yeah… Ginny didn’t exactly enjoy me living with her family“, Harry admitted. „She was relieved when she could simply return to Hogwarts—and, admittedly, that was the reason I never went back to finish school.“ He’d enjoyed spending time in her presence about as much as she’d enjoyed his. „What about you? Where did you end up?“ He took a sip of his cola. Just because he worked in London didn’t mean much when it came to a wizard.
„Officially, I never moved. Unofficially, however, I have a flat right in the middle of London. The Ministry was—after my acquittal, thanks again, by the way“, he added, and Harry nodded slightly, „quite generous with me. Going from traitor to war hero was a surprisingly drastic shift.“
Harry pulled a face.
„They were very eager to get everything right this time“, he muttered.
„Meaning: you were eager to let them get everything right.“
Harry lifted his shoulders.
„They were getting on my nerves every single day anyway, and I’d already found the structures grating back when I was a student. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect to modernise everything.“
„And having Kingsley as Minister certainly helped?“
Harry smiled crookedly, but nodded. That had indeed made things considerably easier.
„Who would have thought we’d both end up with this very same organisation, hmm?“
Harry nodded blankly. It really was surprising. Of course he’d always wanted to become an Auror, but he’d never given much thought to just how deeply that would pull him into the mire of the Ministry.
„I think you’re mistaken“, Severus said suddenly. Harry looked up in surprise, not entirely sure where the conversation had just jumped to.
„About what?“
„About the roles you believe you’re playing. I think…“ He paused briefly. „I think you simply distribute your abilities and traits very well—placing them where they fit, and where you feel safe and comfortable using them.“ Harry felt almost caught out by that. “But I’m glad to be allowed to get to know this side of you as well.”
Without meaning to, Harry lifted his head a little more—and couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Severus with a touch of dazzled warmth.
Over the past few months, Snakebite had managed not only to make Harry feel the urge to write to him every single evening—euphoric and excited, the way one was when falling for someone, generally behaving like an idiot because hormones were running rampant through one’s body. He had also managed to give Harry a place where he felt safe. Safe enough to begin talking about many things he would otherwise probably never have spoken of. Not like this. Not with a stranger. And yet he had been willing to meet precisely that person—someone who knew so many things about his thoughts and inner life. To truly reveal himself.
And Severus… did not disappoint him. Just as Harry had been able to read between his lines, so it seemed to be now. And that made it surprisingly easy to forget whatever past might once have connected them. It made it easy to see Severus simply as Snakebite—someone who impressed him with far more than just his careful choice of words. Whose view of life fascinated him. With whom he felt safe in his problems and convictions. And who nevertheless gave him the sense that they were equals—on the same level.
Because his friend Snakebite, too, had not come through the past few years unscathed, and had spoken of often facing very similar challenges to Harry’s—often feeling just as unequal to them, even though they both tended to charge headfirst into walls regardless.
„That suits you“, Severus said softly, stretching his long legs slightly beneath the table, so that they brushed Harry’s legs—lightly, unobtrusively.
„What do you mean?“
„The smile. The contentment in it.“
„I’m honestly rather overwhelmed“, Harry admitted, daring to pick up the openness of their earlier written conversations. „By you, I mean. By our conversation.“ Though being overwhelmed by Severus as a person wasn’t particularly difficult either. It was much the same for him—he used his personality to suit the situation as best he could. And that sometimes meant being an intimidating, ill-tempered investigator. It served that purpose. But the gentle, open side Harry had come to know as Snakebite—he had clearly brought that with him here.
„I hadn’t expected it to be this harmonious either. Just… much faster than usual.“
That was true.
„The Muggles are working on speech-to-text technology, you know“, Harry said with a grin. Severus caught the reference—Harry enjoyed teasing him about his lack of technical understanding. His dark eyes positively flashed.
„Do go ahead and mock an old man.“
„As long as the speed at which I speak doesn’t overwhelm you?“ Harry teased him gently.
„I’m fairly certain that ten of those glasses wouldn’t be enough to prevent me, if necessary, from burying you under scientific treatises regardless“, Severus replied, lifting his chin slightly and emptying his whisky glass, then reaching for the water.
„Ha—well, you’ve clearly got me beat there. One sip of that and I’d be lying uselessly in a corner“, Harry assured him.
„Good to know, should I ever require you useless in a corner“, Severus returned dryly, and Harry lowered his gaze with a grin.
He liked this. He liked the way the innuendoes flowed between them. And perhaps Severus, with his own words just now, had given him exactly the opportunity to live that out here as well—personally—and prove that there really was a bit of dandelion in him after all.
„Tell me“, Severus said at last, settling a little more comfortably in his chair, „why you chose to register on that site of all places that evening.“
„Mm… stupid story. My television broke“, he explained. Severus raised an eyebrow. „Normally I spend my evenings glued to the console or playing something on the PC. I was right in the middle of a really exciting quest when the thing died, so I was pretty frustrated and didn’t feel like switching to another game on the computer… at some point I got bored, clicked around the internet aimlessly, and-„ He lifted his hands.
„And the first name that came to mind was Dandelion.“
„That’s how you pick usernames when you don’t have anything specific in mind, isn’t it? Snakebite isn’t exactly bursting with creativity either—and it’s rather cynical, if you ask me“, he added. After all, Nagini had nearly killed Severus.
„Cynicism is all too often my second given name. But would you have written to me otherwise?“
Harry smiled crookedly.
„I’ll admit the name caught my eye. I looked at the newest users and wrote to a few of them“, he conceded. „You can’t have registered more than half an hour before I did.“
„Out of boredom as well“, Severus agreed.
„That was during the enforced leave, wasn’t it?“ Harry tried to recall.
„Yes. Utter nonsense, if you ask me—they’d already identified those responsible for the breach. In the end, though, it did give me the time to familiarise myself more closely with the technology I’d acquired a few weeks earlier, originally with the intention of gaining more knowledge for using it at work.“
Of course, computers at the Ministry had been a real problem at first—even once they were finally compatible with the magic already in place. Hardly any wizard even knew how to switch the things on, let alone how the rest of it worked.
„And you end up on a gay forum of all places“, Harry said with a grin. „You’ll have to explain the connection to your job to me again.“
Severus was, of course, above blushing—but Harry had the distinct impression he wasn’t very far from it.
„I found myself bombarded with a staggering number of astonishingly naked women on every page I visited. At some point, I was annoyed enough to tell the thing that I wasn’t interested. That statements don’t result in apologies, but in topic suggestions, was… surprising enough.“
Harry couldn’t help but snicker as he imagined Severus first yelling at his computer and then informing Google that he wasn’t interested in women, but in men—whereupon the search engine dutifully flooded him with countless suitable pages.
„I think I really don’t want to know what your browser looks like. You probably have thirty-five toolbars and fifteen adverts running in the background.“
Severus lifted his chin slightly and appeared to prefer not to answer that at all, which only made Harry feel thoroughly vindicated.
„I’ll help you clean that up sometime“, he promised, glancing around the room, which had meanwhile become almost overcrowded. He hadn’t paid much attention to it at all—telling, really, of how completely the conversation had absorbed him—but nearly every table was occupied now. Accordingly, it was much louder than when they’d arrived.
„Would you rather leave?“ Severus suggested, voicing exactly what Harry had been thinking.
„Yes, it’s getting too loud for me. I’ll pay“, Harry decided, already getting to his feet.
„Harry“, Severus cautioned.
„Absolutely not. I said I was inviting you“, he reminded him, moving quickly toward the bar before Severus could interfere. The bill they’d run up wasn’t exactly substantial anyway. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep talking to Severus—he simply found the environment too loud and crowded. So he merely smiled when Severus caught up with him again by the door, and they stepped out into the night streets of London instead—never truly silent, but decidedly quieter.
„May I walk you home?“ Severus asked nonetheless.
„I’d like that very much.“
„You said you live in the same house as Hermione and Weasley. So are you in for an interrogation when you get back?“
Harry couldn’t help but laugh softly—at both the question and the choice of words.
„That’s to be expected, if they’re still awake. Hermione’s been in the courtroom since six this morning, with only a short break.“ On days like that, she often barely managed to eat anything once she got home before collapsing into bed half-dead. All the more reason he’d been glad to catch her during that break. That she still managed to take such care of him despite everything inevitably occupying her mind was, really, very typical of her.
„Ah… the Mallory case, yes. What nonsense to schedule the first day of hearings on a Friday.“
Harry preferred to stay out of that. He didn’t have to attend hearings all that often, and he was quite content with that. He’d rather lock up the bad guys than listen to victims’ testimonies. Accordingly, he didn’t ask to what extent Severus was involved in the case—not because he wasn’t interested, but because he still didn’t want to talk about work.
„Have you visited Minerva lately?“ he asked instead, changing the subject.
„She visits me regularly. I keep my distance from Hogwarts entirely—that was one of the conditions after my acquittal. But she’s always happy to stop by for tea and a game of chess.“
„You and your chess. Have you ever figured out who’s actually better?“
„We’re still working on that“, Severus assured him.
„You could have entered the chess championship.“
„They wouldn’t be worthy opponents, and we wouldn’t manage to finish a match against each other within the allotted time.“
Harry laughed softly.
„Ron was pretty disappointed he only came in second.“ And the redhead really was damn good at it.
Severus’ lips thinned noticeably—he was still no fan of Ron, which was easily apparent from the fact that he still didn’t grant him a first name.
„Have you learned it properly by now?“
„I know and understand the rules, but I’ll never be particularly good at it“, Harry admitted. „Maybe I lack the imagination, but I just find it… boring.“
„Did you prefer the two-and-a-half-metre-tall version?“
Harry’s gaze dropped involuntarily as the scenes from back then immediately rose before his eyes. Severus had surely meant the question jokingly, certainly not as an affront—but he couldn’t have known how much such remarks triggered him these days. How much he now wanted to punch people when they found out he was an Auror and came out with comments like you’ve always been drawn to danger.
„Harry…“ Severus reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. „Forgive me. I had actually intended not to make any remarks about the past.“
He swallowed and shook his head slightly.
„That’s probably difficult to avoid in the long run“, he admitted, forcing himself to lift his gaze again. „I just don’t associate much that’s positive with back then. In general.“ It wasn’t about specific people. „Ideally, I’d rather not be connected to those things at all anymore.“
„Understandable“, Severus said gently, giving his fingers another warm squeeze without letting go of his hand.
„I’m sorry. I could understand if you wanted to talk about it“, Harry added, looking up at him. Severus studied him for a moment before shaking his head.
„Not yet.“
And honestly, Harry could live with that. At the moment, it was primarily Dandelion and Snakebite who shared a connection. If things between them developed in a similar way, it might be a different matter.
He gave a small nod, then gestured ahead as they turned onto the street.
„Look.“
Between the still rather run-down buildings lining the road, the magically concealed—but to them clearly visible—Number Twelve seemed to positively glow.
„That’s what I’d call a transformation“, Severus said in surprise. The façade gleamed white against the dark night sky; the bands of masonry and friezes were picked out in darker tones, and the metal railings had all been freshly painted, reflecting the glow of the streetlamps. The front door was anthracite, with a silver bar handle, and nowhere were there snakes or any other symbols of Dark wizards. „It looks very modern. Hardly like a wizarding house anymore.“
„That was the goal“, Harry agreed. „We want to live here in peace—and for Ron and Hermione to raise their children here someday. The little garden out back still needs some love, but the rest is finished.“ There were no dark corners left in the house. They stopped at the two steps before the door, and Harry lowered his gaze again.
How… did one say goodbye now? He’d truly enjoyed the evening and would very much like to repeat it—at length, even. Severus seemed to feel the same, but perhaps he was mistaken and—
„Harry?“
He looked up again, and for one mad moment he thought Severus was leaning in to kiss him, which nearly gave him a heart attack. Instead, he stepped forward, slipped his arms around him, and gently drew Harry in. Entirely without thinking, Harry lifted his arms and all but clung to him, sinking fully into the embrace.
That—exactly that—was what he associated with Snakebite. Calm. Safety. Warmth. Closeness without demand. Of course they had exchanged suggestive remarks, and it would be a lie to claim that it hadn’t fueled his imagination on more than a few nights—but it had never crossed a certain line. He had never found it uncomfortable or intrusive. It had simply created a pleasant closeness between them, one that held the possibility of more without ever presuming it.
Unavoidably, he shuddered slightly, breathed in Severus’ familiar scent—the one he would probably associate with him forever now—and was immediately struck by guilt.
He licked his lips.
„I knew who you were before we met“, he whispered, not moving so much as a hair’s breadth away. Severus deserved that honesty, didn’t he?
„Before you asked me?“ Severus asked, without changing his posture or the embrace, nor questioning how Harry might have found out.
„No.“ He hadn’t known then. Perhaps he wouldn’t have asked otherwise… because he wouldn’t have dared.
„I… knew beforehand as well“, Severus admitted. Unlike Severus, Harry reacted at once. He drew his head back sharply to look up at him, bringing them surprisingly close.
„Before I asked you?“
Instead of answering him, Severus lowered his head the small remaining distance and kissed him—exquisitely tenderly—on the lips. What Harry had feared just moments ago now made him almost want to cry out in euphoria—which, of course, he couldn’t, as his mouth was otherwise occupied. Occupied with returning the kiss, and the many small kisses that followed, with the same tenderness and gentleness. Loving. Not insistent or demanding, but perfectly matched to the embrace they shared. And even when Severus finally pulled back after what felt like an eternity, Harry reached for him once more, stretching up for one last, soft kiss to his lips—just to hold on to the feeling for a tiny moment longer—before sinking back down from his toes, back into Severus’ arms, hidden against his chest from the world.
The feeling was so overwhelmingly beautiful that he began to tremble, something that didn’t escape Severus’ notice.
„Are you cold?“ he asked with quiet concern, as though he might conjure one of his heavy cloaks at once and wrap them both inside it.
„No“, Harry assured him, fully aware that his emotions were tipping over. He simply couldn’t do very much to stop it.
Severus eased back slightly and looked at him closely, finally even lifting a hand to brush the back of his fingers over what was probably far too pale a cheek.“Will you write to me?“ he asked, as though suddenly afraid that their farewell might mean exactly that—that it would never happen again.
„I will“, Harry promised, making a conscious effort to keep his breathing steady. Severus released him now for good, smiling faintly. Harry returned it bravely before Severus turned and left. Harry watched him for a moment longer, then all but staggered through the front door into the house. His legs gave way; he crashed into the stair rail and ended up sitting awkwardly on a step, bending forward at once.
„Harry?“ He couldn’t answer Hermione. He could barely breathe, his blood roared in his ears, and his heart hammered so wildly he felt as though it might simply give out. „Hey…“ Hermione’s cool hands slid over his forearms as she crouched in front of him. „No… go back inside, Ron“, she murmured. „I’ll be right there.“
Harry couldn’t focus. Everything in his head tumbled chaotically over itself; he was dizzy, and bursts of vivid colour jumped wildly before his eyes.
„Easy, Harry“, she said gently. With one hand she scratched through the short, messy hair at the back of his head, while the other rubbed slow circles over his shoulder. „Remember your breathing technique“, she reminded him through the dull haze. Breathe. Yes. Breathing was a good thing. In… hold… out… hold… and again from the beginning. Five repetitions. Ten. Fifteen. Then, very slowly, it got better, and he sagged inward, exhausted, on the stairs. Hermione stayed with him, sat down beside him, and continued to hold him gently.
„That bad?“ she asked quietly after a while. Harry shook his head.
„No… it was great“, he assured her groggily.
„You get panic attacks when things are going well again?“
Harry let out a soft groan and leaned against her.
„Apparently.“ Which annoyed him immensely.
„Get some rest“, she said gently, brushing his hair. „I was only waiting until you got home. Honestly, I’m completely wiped.“ She helped him to his feet and even walked him upstairs afterward, which really wasn’t necessary. He still felt shaken, but at least he was more or less steady again.
„Thanks, Hermione“, he murmured.
„It’s fine. Get some proper rest, all right? And call if anything’s wrong“, she asked.
„You already have more than enough on your plate. Especially when you work as much as you really shouldn’t“, he admonished softly. Hermione smiled and laid a hand on her still entirely flat stomach for a moment.
„Shh“, she said. Harry nodded. He knew she wouldn’t tell Ron anything until at least the third month was well and truly over. And he only knew because he was her best friend—and because she probably would have exploded if she hadn’t been able to tell someone. He gave her a light hug.
„Sleep well. I’m going to spend a bit of time on the PC.“
Hermione rolled her eyes, but nodded and then went quietly downstairs. Harry opened his door to step into his own domain, letting out a soft groan. Merlin—this whole mess really wasn’t getting any less exhausting, honestly.
He left his shoes by the door and briefly went into the bathroom, where he swapped the shirt for a loose T-shirt and the jeans for comfortable, low-slung sweatpants, kicking off his socks before returning to his enormous living room, which essentially made up his entire flat. They’d torn out all the walls, leaving only a few necessary load-bearing pillars behind, creating an incredibly large, open space. There was a kitchenette—which he rarely used for anything other than making coffee or keeping his drinks cold—and the living area with a large seating corner, television, and sound system. The sleeping area, with a comfortable, large bed where he could turn and sprawl in every direction without falling out, was separated by a shelving unit filled with countless films, video games, and a few Quidditch items. And finally, the ‚work area‘, slightly set apart from the rest by two bookcases. This was where his desk stood, with the comfortable executive chair he’d been collapsing into every single evening for months now.
One of the advantages of being Harry Potter—and having far too much money—was very clearly that he was always up to date with the latest technology. Maybe it was because he’d grown up among Muggles, but it mattered a great deal to him, and seeing his zombie enemies in the best possible resolution as he slaughtered them was something close to his heart.
Besides, he felt a mischievous delight every single time at having turned this once dark, pure-blood household into a playground of Muggle technology.
Within seconds, his computer had booted up, and the few programmes in the autostart had opened. Among them was the messenger he’d been using to communicate with Snakebite for months now—and sure enough, no sooner had he opened their chat window than Severus’ status indicator turned green.
Harry hesitated… and poured himself a glass of cola instead, which was standing nearby. In the meantime, Severus had already managed to type his message.
»Hey, that was a short interrogation.«
» Hey. There wasn’t one«, Harry wrote back. » I had a panic attack«, he added after a brief hesitation. Snakebite knew he struggled with those from time to time, so why hide it now? Severus’ reply took a moment.
»Why? Did I do something wrong?«
Harry kneaded his fingers together for a moment.
»No, you didn’t.« He hesitated again. »My head is just stupid. It’s annoying.« It really annoyed him. A lot. Getting panic attacks because he couldn’t cope with a negative situation, because his thoughts spiralled out of control—fine. Awful, exhausting, but at least he understood it by now. Getting them because something good had happened - that truly got on his nerves. There had been a time when it happened constantly, and he’d honestly hoped he’d left that behind.
»Should I have done something differently?«
Not leave, Harry thought, shaking his head. Though maybe that wouldn’t have helped either.
»I don’t think so. It was nice«, he let him know, because it was true.
He watched the little line beneath the chat window appear, indicating that Severus was typing… then disappear. Then typing again. Then stopping once more.
»Should I come back?«, Severus finally sent.
Immediately, Harry felt the familiar surge of panic rising again—this time for an entirely different reason. He glanced around frantically, though, admittedly, his flat was fairly tidy and, thanks to various spells, always clean.
»Do I need to get changed again?«, he typed with trembling fingers.
»Are you naked?« He almost laughed.
»No.«
»Then no. Give me five minutes.«
Harry sprang up from his chair, which rolled back loudly across the floor—yet he froze in place for a moment, as if stunned. Severus was coming. Here. Into his flat, because surely they weren’t going to just stand around in the stairwell. He swallowed and pulled himself together. It wasn’t a big deal, was it? He was just going to keep Harry company for a bit. Probably reassure himself that it was true—that Harry was all right again.
He chewed on his lower lip. Severus’ status had long since turned red, and if he stood around here like an idiot much longer… He leaned forward to shut down the computer and pushed the chair back under the desk, then at least switched on two of the floor lamps in the room so Severus wouldn’t be stepping into darkness. He glanced down at himself to make sure he was, in fact, wearing everything he ought to be. Socks weren’t that important, were they?
Barefoot, he left his flat, pulling the door nearly shut behind him, and padded down the stairs into the small foyer created by the renovation—the one where you could choose between going into Ron and Hermione’s flat or taking the stairs up to Harry’s. He opened the door just as Severus arrived on the small, perpetually brown patch of lawn opposite and looked at him with entirely inappropriate excitement. His heart was pounding in his throat, and scarcely had Severus climbed the two steps and come to a stop in front of him when Harry’s hands lifted of their own accord, catching in the fabric of his shirt—a different one from earlier—and tugging him a fraction closer. He lowered his head and rested his forehead against Severus’ chest.
„Harry…“
Large hands stroked gently over his back, but he needed that moment to collect himself—so his stupid head wouldn’t immediately do something stupid again.
„I’m sorry“, he murmured, exhausted. This emotional back and forth really wasn’t doing him any favours.
„Will you let me come in?“
Right—Severus was still standing on the steps. Harry pulled back and nodded slightly, stepping aside so Severus could close the door behind him, then simply took his hand and drew him up the stairs with him, past the threshold of the flat, closing the door behind them.
Severus looked around in surprise. Of course—Harry had only told him they’d renovated, no details.
„What one sees outside is confirmed inside“, he finally remarked, which made Harry smile crookedly without meaning to.
„Do you… want something to drink or whatever?“ he asked uncertainly. Apart from Hermione and Ron, hardly anyone ever came up here. He’d spent countless evenings here with Ron—crisps, cola, and beer (for Ron), playing video games together. Lately… that hadn’t really happened anymore.
„If you have anything that won’t give me a sugar shock?“ Harry nodded and turned toward the kitchenette. „Should I take my shoes off?“
“You can—slippers are in the cupboard to the right of the door if you need any.” Harry never wore shoes at home. He simply liked the feel of the smooth parquet beneath his feet. He grabbed a bottle of water and a clean glass, and from the desk his own drink with its glass, then carried everything over to the sofa, motioning for Severus to sit while he balanced it all on the small table—through whose glass top one could see the controllers stored in the shelf beneath.
„You didn’t lie“, Severus remarked, staring at the TV unit in astonishment. Beneath the flat screen, practically every compartment was filled with a different device—VHS and DVD players, a PlayStation, PSone, PlayStation 2 and a brand-new PlayStation 3; a Super Nintendo, Nintendo 64, Nintendo GameCube and an equally brand-new Wii; an Xbox and the likewise brand-new Xbox 360.
„There are even more consoles in the cabinet back there—older ones, and some I barely have any games for, or just don’t particularly like using“, Harry admitted with a crooked smile.
„You’re mad“, Severus stated. He laughed softly.
„I just like collecting them. Well—and I like playing, too.“ Harry lifted his shoulders, smiling askew, and handed Severus the glass of water.
„Show me sometime“, Severus asked.
„Gladly. I’ve got plenty of games you can play with two people.“
„So you can mercilessly wipe the floor with me?“ He raised an eyebrow, and Harry grinned, choosing to take a sip of his cola instead of answering—giving Severus the opportunity to look around a little more.
„Remarkable“, he finally remarked quietly.
„What is?“ Harry shifted to sit slightly sideways so he could look at him more easily.
„I live in a loft flat as well. One single room with a bathroom—though the kitchen is a bit more separated—and I have a curtain for the sleeping area“, Severus explained.
Harry glanced around. He really liked the flat—the high wooden ceiling, the wooden floor, the tall, new windows.
„I like open spaces“, he said. „Not feeling so… boxed in.“ Maybe it had something to do with all those years in the cupboard; he didn’t know.
„Only the rustic aspect isn’t exactly my style“, Severus added. „Though it suits this place.“
„Let me guess—concrete-look flooring and walls?“ Harry asked with a grin.
„The floor, yes. The walls are partly brick, partly white.“
„Wide black window frames?“
„Yes.“
Harry grinned.
„That somehow suits you. Is there a laboratory as well?“
„No. I have that in my house and at the Ministry—that’s sufficient. In my flat… I simply live. I don’t work there.“
Harry understood that very well—truly.
„The door opposite leads to a small office. If I ever do take work home, it goes in there. No files come in here,“ he agreed. That had been very important to him. The moment he stepped into his flat, he wanted nothing more to do with work. „I’d hate having work lying around all over the living room. Hermione has an office downstairs too, but she carries her files all over the flat.“ He shuddered.
„She still has to learn to leave work at work. That will come.“
„Oh yes, absolutely“, Harry agreed—knowing that she would soon have very different things on her mind. He rubbed a hand over his face.
„You look quite tired“, Severus remarked softly, studying him.
„I am tired“, Harry admitted, lifting his shoulders slightly.
„Do I now have to persuade you in person to go to bed as well?“ Severus raised an eyebrow, and Harry couldn’t help but smile.
„I recall that being very much mutual“, he replied. „But… tonight it may rather come down to whether you stay“, he admitted.
„I certainly had no intention of leaving again.“
Harry smiled again, without meaning to.
„Already convinced.“ He lifted a hand. „The bathroom’s over there“, he explained—though it was hardly necessary, given that there was only one door. Severus was already on his feet and disappearing next door, so Harry merely gathered their glasses and put them away, then switched on the light in the sleeping area and turned off the rest. He probably should have been incredibly nervous about Severus staying over—but honestly, he was simply too tired for that.
When Severus returned, now magically dressed very much like Harry—only entirely in black—Harry slipped off next door for a moment himself, brushed his teeth and washed up briefly, then returned to the room to find Severus already settled comfortably on the bed.
„May I come over to you?“ Harry asked softly as he slid onto the bed beside him.
„I insist“, Severus replied, already leaning back against one of the many pillows. Harry didn’t need to be told twice; he shifted straight over and unceremoniously used Severus’ chest as a pillow. He let out a quiet breath, releasing the last of his tension, and closed his eyes.
„Oh God… your chest is the perfect pillow“, he sighed-
-and fell asleep almost immediately.
Severus blinked, then couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head slightly. He extinguished the light magically—the one Harry had simply left on—and closed his eyes. Of course, he had run through countless possibilities in his mind as to how this evening might end. Dandelion’s bed had featured rather prominently in several versions, regardless of what they had talked about beforehand. Being labelled a pillow and rewarded with soft snoring, admittedly, had not been among them—though it was an entirely acceptable outcome.
It would be a lie to claim he hadn’t spent the entire past week racking his brain like a teenager over how all of this might unfold. It was true: had Harry not asked him, he would have done so himself soon enough—despite having been absolutely certain that he would never, truly never, meet someone from that cursed internet in his life.
But with Dandelion, things had been different from the very beginning. And when he had accidentally overheard part of Harry’s conversation with Hermione earlier that day and realised whom he was about to meet… nothing had changed. At most, it had made it clear to him that Dandelion was, in fact, a real, living person—no machine pretending to be something else. And as nervous as Harry had sounded during that conversation, the nervousness had spread to Severus as well.
A good thing, then, that he was used to approaching any situation with calm regardless. In truth, the timing of that revelation had been almost perfect.
He gently slipped an arm around him, noting that Harry’s clothing had clearly never quite understood its purpose. The shirt he was wearing was just as incapable of covering him properly as the shirt earlier that day—half his back was bare, leaving naked skin beneath Severus’ fingers, which he stroked softly as the tension of the day ebbed away from him as well. It had gone well—more than well—and Harry, once he felt safe enough, was so very Dandelion that Severus could bring the two sides together with ease. And for the moment, that was all that mattered.
A few hours later—it was still completely dark in the room, so morning was still far off—Harry stirred against him again and again until he lifted his head in clear confusion.
„Harry“, Severus murmured, raising a hand to touch his cheek gently.
„Severus.“ Somehow, it seemed to soothe him that Harry immediately knew who was lying beside him. „Warm“, he groaned, even as he nestled back against him, fumbling irritably with the blanket and shoving it off himself and over onto Severus instead.
„You’d be better off taking your shirt off“, Severus advised. Sleeping uncovered wasn’t a good idea when his clothes barely protected him anyway. Harry groaned tiredly, but then did make the effort to peel himself out of the fabric without moving too much, tossing it carelessly out of the bed before settling himself much more decisively against Severus.
Perhaps there really was more cat than plant in Dandelion after all, the way the man kept snuggling up. Severus stroked his bare back until he noticed the skin growing distinctly cooler, then pulled the blanket back over him halfway and let out a quiet breath, ready to drift back to sleep.
A door was flung open.
„Harry, could you just-… Oh my God!“ Hermione cried in shock and immediately retreated back toward the door. „Sorry, sorry“, she murmured, closing it again.
Harry—half naked and once more uncovered, lying on top of Severus—lifted his head sluggishly, apparently unsure what all the fuss was about. He gave a low grunt, looked blearily at Severus for a moment, which earned him a sleepy smile, while Severus was still busy calming his racing heart.
„I’ll go see what’s going on“, Harry mumbled, laboriously shifting off Severus and staggering toward the door with a yawn.
„Hermione?“ he mumbled. She was still standing on the landing, hands pressed over her face.
„I’m sorry“, she breathed.
“Mmh?”
„I didn’t mean to interrupt! I didn’t know-“
„Nonsense… it’s not like we were having sex“, he replied with a yawn, not really seeing the issue. Perhaps he was simply too tired for that. Hermione let out a slightly hysterical laugh.
„You’re half naked!“
„I was warm“, he shot back, yawning again. „What did you want?“
„I just wanted to ask if you’re coming down for breakfast“, she squeaked, still bright red.
„Mmh… I don’t think so, thanks.“ He smiled crookedly. If he did have breakfast, it would probably be with Severus—and somewhere else. „Hey… don’t beat yourself up.“ He touched her shoulder lightly.
„Next time I’ll knock, I promise“, she assured him. Harry almost laughed at how shaken she was. She turned away, and Harry went back into his flat, stretching slightly. He was noticeably more awake now, but he still slipped back into bed beside Severus, stretching out on his back.
„Are you seriously just going back to sleep?“ Severus asked in surprise, having turned onto his side by now. Harry merely gave a low hum in response. A few more minutes to become properly awake—surely no one could begrudge him that. He was well aware that his flat door wasn’t thick enough to keep out a conversation happening right outside, but even though his mind tended to overreact to all sorts of nonsense at other times, he didn’t find any of this particularly troubling right now.
What he did react to—very much so, physically—was Severus’ hand settling flat against his muscular chest. He opened his eyes and looked down at himself. Severus’ thumb brushed over the scar there, glowing red just as vividly as the lightning bolt on his forehead had for so many years. The lightning bolt had faded—but this scar, he was certain, would remain visible for the rest of his life. And in the end, he had probably gotten off lightly.
„Does it bother you?“ he asked quietly. It was far from his only visible scar. Unfortunately, Auror was a profession in which their number tended to increase rather than decrease over time.
„No“, Severus replied, his voice still rough with sleep. I just didn’t know-“
Of course. How could he have? Harry lifted his own hand to Severus’ arm and turned it slightly, brushing his fingers over the faded Dark Mark. That it had faded—that was what mattered.
„That we all carry scars—inside and out—is no secret“, he murmured. „But they’re the reason we can live normal lives today. As normal as that can be.“
Presumably, many of the things Harry had told him over the past months made a great deal more sense now. He had written that he’d fought in a war. Not which war—though that had, of course, become clear later, once they’d revealed themselves to each other as wizards. He hadn’t mentioned his exact role either. But it had created a shared foundation of understanding between them.
Severus turned his arm more deliberately and drew it back slightly until their fingers touched.
Harry watched the gesture and couldn’t help but smile softly.
„Will you have breakfast with me?“ he asked, before he could stop to consider whether it was wise or not. He simply wanted to.
„Not just that“, Severus promised—and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.