pekeleke

Title: One Paw Forwards.
Fandom: Harry Potter (Snarry)
Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape.
Author: pekeleke.
Rating: G.
Word count: 795
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.
A/N1: Unbetaed. Written for the adventdrabbles (DW,LJ, IJ) 2015 prompt 14: Christmas cocktail.
A/N2: This is the eighth part of my Black Smoke series.
Summary: Severus' throat tightened as he tried -and failed- to picture such a scene: the two of them drinking tea and eating cookies by the fire. Potter and him, becoming friends. Was that even possible?

One Paw Forwards.

Severus woke up toasty warm and surprisingly ache-free despite the fact that he'd spent the entire night under the umbrella stand. He yawned delicately and stretched, right paw going past the confines of his hideaway and encountering such cold air that he whimpered and jerked his limb back in shock, pulling it into the pleasant bubble of what he now realized was a localized Warming Charm.

'Potter.' He thought, blinking dazedly. 'Potter must have cast both Warming and Cushioning Charms around me before going to bed. He could have Accioed me while I was asleep. Or left me to fend for myself altogether, but he did this instead.' The startling realization did something odd to Severus' insides. It made his stomach first drop and them fill with a million butterflies. His heart pounded, his breath hitched, and his eyes widened with shock.

Potter hadn't ignored his sulk or allowed him to suffer because of it. He hadn't tried to 'manage' him or control him in any way. He'd simply allowed him to be. 'This is what I need. What I have always needed. I don't need to be 'tamed.' I need to be understood.'

The sudden 'knock' of an owl's beak against a window somewhere made Severus turn his head towards the sound, and his eyes fell upon the crimson-colored fabric that had been carefully placed right beside the umbrella stand. 'My blanket. He left my blanket where I can reach it. He's trying to make sure I'm comfortable, caring for me so generously, despite how badly I've behaved.'

“That was Headmistress Mcgonagal's owl, lil' mate. She inquired about your health and explained that she'd got Professor Slughorn to cover for you after Madame Pomfrey informed her of your condition. She wants you to concentrate on getting better and hopes we've managed to become 'friends'.”

'I bet she does.' Severus thought sourly, painfully aware that Minerva was as determined to find him a romantic partner as Poppy herself. She'd hired Petrus Waldo as her Muggle Studies professor because the man had claimed to 'admire him greatly' during his interview, after all.

“It's not impossible, is it, kitty? For us to become friends? You're a lot like him, you know? Like the professor, I mean. He'd have never been afraid of me, of course, but he wouldn't have trusted me, either. I've always wondered what being his friend would be like. He's not the kind of bloke you can drag to the pub for a pint or even a Christmas cocktail. He's the kind you invite for tea and bake chocolate-chip cookies for. Not that he'd eat mine, the git. He'd probably think I've poisoned them or something. But it'd be nice if he did. Like a sign that he trusts me. I'd love it if he ever did that."

Severus' throat tightened as he tried -and failed- to picture such a scene: the two of them drinking tea and eating cookies by the fire. Potter and him, becoming friends. Was that even possible? They moved in different circles and were so opposite in nature that he couldn't imagine how they'd put up with each other long enough to—Nah. It'd never work.

He shook his head slightly, and his eyes caught sight of his fluffy red blanket, so thoughtfully placed within reach. He stared at it unblinkingly for what felt like ages, finally coming to terms with the irrefutable fact that Potter—Potter was kind. And caring. And Severus hadn't been on the right side of kindness in a very long time. Friendship wasn't love. Friendship was—doable. What could he possibly lose by trying it?

The idea of reaching out to Potter seemed crazy, but his kittenish instincts kept insisting that he had nothing to fear. Potter had offered him food and belly rubs and cuddles. Severus had refused it all so far, but he wanted it. And he could have it. That realization gave him the courage he needed to push his little paw past the edge of the umbrella stand, allowing it to peek out of the shadows for the second time in the last twenty-four hours.

“There you are, lil' mate.” Potter said, spotting him almost instantly, and his tone was gentle beyond words when he quietly offered. “Shall we try this again?”

A calloused fingertip nudged the very tip of Severus' paw, re-issuing the exact same invitation he'd refused the evening before. Severus didn't startle this time around, though. He didn't retreat from the contact, either. He nudged Potter's finger back instead and was rewarded with the Gryffindor's delighted laughter twinkling, like bells, all around him.

“So you've finally realized I'm not as scary as you thought, eh, kitty? Come on then. Let's be friends. There's nothing I'd like more, lil' one.”

TBC

Next

Back