Step 2: Offering Help.

[pekeleke]

Title: Step 2: Offering Help.
Fandom: Harry potter (Snarry)
Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape.
Author: pekeleke.
Rating: G.
Word count: 700
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.
A/N: Unbetaed. Written for the adventdrabbles (DW,LJ, IJ) 2014 prompt 4: Secret Santa, Prompt 5: Blizzard.
A/N2: This is the second part of my In Love And War Series.
Summary: Severus paused outside Potter's door, wondering if he was making a mistake. He wasn't here for himself, though, he was here for his snakes. And that meant he couldn't afford failure.

Step 2: Offering Help.

  

Severus paused outside Potter's office, wondering if he was making a mistake.  Chocolate digestives aside they weren't on particularly good terms with one another and, despite his colleague's cheerful claims that he plonked himself on his precious couch with such frustrating regularity because he enjoyed his company, Severus was convinced the brat only did it to annoy him and, if that was the case, then he might as well turn around and head back to his own office because there was no way in hell that Potter would grant him the favor he'd come all the way here to ask.

The lone window at the end of the corridor showcased the raging blizzard that was keeping the few Slytherin students who'd decided to stay at the castle for the holidays copped up inside the common room, reminding him of the fact that he wasn't here for himself.  He was here for his young snakes and that meant he couldn't afford failure.  His students were ostracized enough already in the grudge-driven post-war world they'd landed in and he had absolutely no intention of allowing them to wallow in unnecessary misery while they were still under his wing.

His gloomy thoughts drove him to rap a tad more forcefully than was probably wise on Potter's door, but the voice that invited him in didn't betray the sort of irritation that he, himself, would have shown in similar circumstances.

Potter's office was a cramped mess of papers, books and assorted paraphernalia that took over the entire room without any order at all and Severus hated it on sight.  He much preferred Minerva's tartan decor or even Lupin's multiple cages, although he'd disparaged their choices rather vocally during their tenure.

“Severus!”  Potter exclaimed, jumping from his seat in what looked so suspiciously like eagerness that Severus immediately assumed it was faked.

“There's no need to pull out the red carpet, Potter.  I've grown tired of you sitting on my couch and have decided to retaliate by finally sitting on yours.”

Warm laughter followed his acerbic comment and every little scrap littering the surface of the cozy leather sofa that was crammed into the corner vanished in the next second.
“Go right ahead.  I hope you'd do me the honor of staying around for tea, Severus.  I may even crack the cookie-jar open, just to celebrate your decision to set foot in my 'lair'.”

“That'd be... acceptable, Potter.”

“Careful there, professor.  You may kill me with sheer shock if you heap such high praise over me.”

“If praise alone could kill you you'd have never made it past your first year at Hogwarts.  Merlin knows everyone boasted about everything you did, from flying like a bloody snidget to getting into more trouble than you were tall.”

Potter conjured their tea with another wand-flick and sat beside him, passing him a perfectly brewed cup with a small touch that lingered just a tad longer than necessary.
“Maybe it has to be your praise.”

Severus swallowed, unnerved by the sudden intensity in Potter's gaze.
“Then you will live a long life.”

Silence fell between them as the brat sipped his tea, allowing the strangely charged atmosphere to linger in a way that made Severus fidget with discomfort.
“I play Secret Santa with my students every year.”  He announced baldly, suddenly eager to say his piece and return to the safety of his own office.

Potter blinked at him, clearly shocked by the abrupt confession.
“That's... nice.”

“I drew up one of my second years.  He's hopelessly Quidditch-obsessed but has severe performance anxiety, and I—I'd appreciate it if you could give him some advice, maybe play a pick up game or two with my Slytherins.  They worship you, Potter.”

The brat looked absolutely thunderstruck.
“You're asking me for a favor?”  He wheezed and his incredulous tone was enough to make Severus grit his teeth.

“I understand you've got no reason to help me, but...”

"I will.  I'm honored that you asked.  I realize you're not ready to admit it, but we're not enemies, Severus.  We haven't been enemies for ages and I—I'd do anything for you.  All you've got to do is ask. "

TBC

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