Chasing Moonbeams. Ch11.

[pekeleke]

Title: Chasing Moonbeams.
Author: pekeleke
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17, eventually.
Length: 82K+
Warnings: Extremely Slow burn. Pre-slash to slash. Enemies to friends to lovers. Pinning!Harry. Oblivious!Severus. Implied Bottom!Severus. EWE.
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. I make no profit from writing fanfiction.
Summary: “Really?” Harry beams, green eyes wide and full of wonder. “You’re going to let me snog you to my heart’s content?”

“Of course not.” Severus replies contrarily, curling elegant digits around the brat’s neck and tugging him down low enough for a quick and dirty kiss before the Savior has a chance to protest. “I’m going to let you snog me to my heart’s content, Potter.”

 

Chapter 11.

 

Severus’s first and rather uncharitable thought upon clapping eyes on Nathaniel’s guardian boar, Mr. Wimby, is that the unfortunate-looking thing is as hideous as Potter told him it was. Nathaniel is bouncing up and down beside him, both plump cheeks and rounded chin liberally sprinkled with the crumbs of the cookies he’s helped his grandmother bake in honor of Severus’s return home. Severus himself is holding one of said cookies carefully in his left hand. He nibbles on the edge of it politely at regular intervals, taking care to praise its taste with enough enthusiasm to make Nathaniel puff up like a peacock.

“Do you see his wings, Master Snape? I made them look like the fairies’ wings. Fairies are scarier than birds, are they not? The wings of the Hofwarf’s boars are a bit like a pigeon’s. Pigeons are not cool. They’re not scary ei’er. I think Mr. Wimby likes to be scary. Should I draw a helmet for his head? Or A sword?”

“Whatever for?” Severus stalls for time, doing his very best to appear to be looking directly at the drawing while his gaze is carefully staring at a soothingly non-orange point just above it.

“For extra scary-ness?”

“I honestly think Mr. Wimby has that covered already. He is very— imposing. What did young Mr. Hillen say when he first saw it?”

“Oh, he screamed like a girl.” Nathaniel shares with delighted glee. “His cousin Benjamin told me it gave him nightmares. Is that what a magical guardian does, Master Snape? Does it give awful nightmares to your enemies?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a personal magical guardian, Nathaniel.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t need one. I never had enemies growing up, just— rivals.”

“Rivals?”

“Yes.”

“Are those better or worse than enemies?”

“Better. Rivals are— well they’re just a bit jealous of us, you know? A rival is someone who wants to prove they are as smart or strong as we are. They compete with us for everything and try to get under our skin.”

“I see,” Nathaniel says, squinting his eyes in an attempt to look thoughtful. Severus bites his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing and waits the boy out, confident that the question he wants Nathaniel to ask will come out sooner or later. “But isn’t that what an enemy is, Master Snape?”

Severus holds his breath, wondering if he knows the right words to explain such subtle difference to so small a child. “No. It isn’t. A rival merely wants our glory. He’ll compete with us and dislike us, may even be cruel to us, but he won’t hate us so much that nothing else matters. A rival will move on and find someone else to bother eventually. He’ll also be easy to defeat if we’re smarter than him.”

“You mean an enemy is unbeatable?”

“No. But an enemy won’t listen. He won’t move on, won’t ever stop hating us. An enemy is like the fairies who attacked us. They didn’t want our apologies. They just wanted to destroy us.”

Nathaniel is silent for a very long time. He stares directly at Mr. Wimby, but looks distracted, clearly ruminating on Severus’s words. “I don’t think Bryce wants to destroy me,” he says at last.

“I don’t think he wants to destroy you either.” Severus agrees quietly.

“He’s still a nasty git, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Can rivals be nasty gits, Master Snape?”

“Of course they can. Rivals often are the nastiest gits of them all.”

“Oh! That’s all right then. I think I lik—

“You two visiting Mr. Wimby? I’d bet he’s delighted to have company.” Potter’s cheerful voice reaches them, and they turn around to face him. Potter stands in all his Auror-garbed glory bang in the middle of the lane, smiling at them goofily.

“Harry! We were looking at Mr. Wimby’s wings. Master Snape thinks they’re cool. He says Mr. Wimby looks in-po-sy.”

“Imposing, Nathaniel.” Severus corrects automatically. “It means that he’s very impressive.”

“Oh! Why didn’t you say he was impressive then?” Nathaniel demands, clearly puzzled.

“Because knowing more than one word to say the same thing makes me sound smart.”

“I see,” Nathaniel says in so clear an imitation of Severus’s pondering tone that even Potter notices it. The idiot is indelicate enough to start laughing and then has to cover his faux-pas with a cough so fake that it won’t spare Nathaniel’s pride in a year or two. Potter will have to do better. Severus won’t have his young friend shamed in such a way for doing something as natural as following the lead of his male role model of choice.

“Are you all right, Harry? Do you want me to ask grandma for a glass of water?” Potter shakes his head in the negative and brings himself under control.

“No. I’m alright, Nate. I think I just swallowed some dust or something.” Potter explains easily enough, and Severus would have challenged the idiot’s right to take the liberty of shortening Nathaniel’s name in such abysmal fashion if the boy himself hadn’t launched into speech before Severus could open his mouth.

“Dust is the pits. It gets everywhere, doesn’t it, Harry? I’m always getting in trouble ‘cause my room gets dusty. It’s not my fault! Grandmas are weird. Shouldn’t they know that dust goes where it likes?”

“Er— I suppose?”

“You think you can tell her that? She’ll believe it if you tell her. She likes you loads. Says you’re an awesome hero like Merlin. You don’t look like Merlin, though. Merlin’s clothes are much cooler than yours. And he’s in all the coloring books and stuff. You’re only in the newspaper. Newspapers are boring.”

Potter stares at Nathaniel, wide-eyed, and Severus hides a chuckle under the guise of nibbling on the cookie he’s still holding. This is probably one of the most entertaining things he’s witnessed this month, and he has no intention whatsoever of coming to the Auror’s aid, regardless of how many panicked, puppy-eyed looks Potter throws his way.

“I—er Didn’t Merlin live like 1500 hundred years ago? His clothes are not cooler; they’re old. Mine are modern. They’re red, which is a very nice color, and also much more comfortable. His are always an ugly brown, and I bet they itched like crazy.”

Severus watches Nathaniel’s indignation grow with every word that leaves Potter’s mouth and leans back comfortably against the waist-high picket fence that separates Old Mabel’s front garden from the lane. Potter has never been a teacher; thus, he’s failed to pick up on the breathless quality that Nathaniel’s voice acquired as soon as he mentioned Merlin. It’s clear as day to Severus that the ancient myth is a beloved favorite of the child. And Potter has just called it old and ugly and itchy. Surely fireworks of the Nathaniel Nothbury variety are about to go off.

“Merlin’s clothes didn’t itch. He was the most powerful warlock, ever. Magic itself chose him because he was the coolest. The most awesome. And he never wore red ‘cause red is a stupid color to wear when you’re running around a forest trying to defeat your enem—er rivals. Merlin’s clothes were brown and green and blue ‘cause those colors are perfect for ca-mu-fla-ge. King Arthur himself liked red, but Merlin taught him not to wear it for battles and stuff. And King Arthur listened to him, cause he knew Merlin was wise, and that’s how King Arthur learned how to be the bestest, strongest, and smartest warrior-king, EVER!”

Potter flinches at the increasing volume of Nathaniel’s incensed reply. “Well. That’s— I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of that,” Potter says faintly. “I never had a wise Merlin teaching me that sort of stuff.”

Shockingly, Potter’s placating words fail to soothe Nathaniel’s ruffled feathers. The boy frowns even more thunderously and crosses his tiny arms over his chest in a rather good imitation of old Mabel’s stern look. “You didn’t need Merlin ‘cause you had Master Snape. Wasn’t he your teacher when you were little? Everyone says so.”

Severus almost chokes on the piece of cookie he’d just bitten. Potter looks towards him with an unreadable expression and admits quietly, “Yes, he was. But he didn’t like me much, and I didn’t like him either.”

Nathaniel all but googles at Potter. “How could you not like him? Master Snape is super-cool.”

“He thought I was a troublemaker, Nate, and he was always out to get me. I hated getting detention.”

“You should have listened to him then. Master Snape is wise and cool. He knows loads and loads of awesome stuff, and he’s gonna teach me all of it. That’s how I’ll be wise and cool too when I grow up.”

“I think you’re already wise and cool, mate.”

“But I only know one potion, Harry. And Master Snape hasn’t had ‘nough time to teach me any of the magic drawing stuff. And I don’t know more than one word to say the same thing so I can sound as smart as him. I’ve got loads and loads to learn!”

“You also have dinner waiting for you, by the look of it, Nathaniel. Your grandmother has been trying to get your attention for the better part of five minutes now, young man.” Severus interjects smoothly.

Nathaniel turns his attention towards the house and spots old Mabel’s waving figure in the window. “Oops!” He giggles cheerfully, waving back at her enthusiastically before addressing Severus. “Are you sure you can’t stay then, Master Snape? Grandma made enough tomato soup for all of us. You’ll like it. It’s nice. And she lets me eat it with super-hot bread and loads and loads of butter. I like the bread better than the soup. But I think you’ll be boring like her. You like the soup better ‘cause it’s he-al-thi-er, don’t you, Master Snape?”

Severus can’t help but laugh at the boy’s antics. Ruffling the child’s wild mop of curls fondly, he steers him towards his grandmother’s front door even as he answers the question. “I do prefer the soup, Nathaniel, although I happen to like lentil soup better than tomato. I’d never say no to the bread, though. Buttery, hot bread is an amazing thing indeed. Particularly if it’s homemade.”

“Would you stay if I say it’s homemade?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. Have you already forgotten my explanation? I didn’t realize you wanted me to stay for dinner, so I promised my godson I’d show up at his home for supper. I’m going to stay there overnight, and he’ll take me to Diagon Alley in the morning to purchase my new wand.”

“Why do you need your dragon to take you to Dagon Alley, Master Snape? It’s gonna take ages and ages for you to come back if you stay away all night. You never get back until after dark when you do that.”

“I need Draco’s company because I don’t have a wand yet, Nathaniel. Walking through a magical street can be dangerous when you can’t cast protective shields. I’ll try to return by five tomorrow if you insist on seeing me before you go to bed. How does that sound?”

“Oh! I insist. I insist.” The boy says solemnly, bouncing on the balls of his toes as they reach the house’s front stoop.

“It’s a deal, then.” Severus smiles, ruffling the boys’ hair one last time and opening the door for him. “Go on. You don’t want that lovely homemade bread to go cold, do you?”

Nathaniel steps into his home and takes two steps towards old Mabel’s kitchen before turning back abruptly to face him. Severus freezes half-way through the act of closing his neighbor's front door. “You should take Mr. Wimby with you to Dagon Alley, Master Snape. He’ll guard you good.”

Severus’s heart feels suddenly warmer, bigger than it should. “I couldn’t possibly—

“Please. You’ll have your dragon and my boar to protect you until you get your new wand. It was horrible around here when you got sick, you know? I don’t want you to get sick again.”

“That’s— All right. I shall allow Mr. Wimby to guard me. I’ll return him to your gate when I see you tomorrow.”

“Cool. Goodnight, Master Snape.” Nathaniel says, pleased, and then takes a deep breath and hollers loudly enough to deafen Severus, “NIGHT, NIGHT, HARRY!”

“Night, Nate!” Potter answers instantly from the lane, and Severus wonders what the Auror is waiting for as he finally closes his young friend’s front door.

“That boy cares an awful lot about you, Snape,” Potter comments when Severus stops by the gate that holds Mr. Wimby and ponders on the best way to remove the drawing from its perch. It’s obviously been pinned in place with a Sticking Charm.

“The feeling is mutual. I care about Nathaniel too, Potter.” Severus replies distractedly, leaning forward to trace the Finite rune upon the paper where Mr. Wimby resides. The drawing unsticks slowly from the fence post it’s attached to, and Severus catches it before it hits the soil. He holds it up reverently and wonders how the hell is he going to make sure it survives it’s upcoming Floo trip. He’ll have to beg Draco to cross over first and shrink it small enough to fit it inside his robe’s pocket.

“Want me to shrink it for you?” Potter questions, for once appearing to be uncannily attuned to Severus’s thought process.

“That would be incredibly helpful, Potter.”

The savior smiles brightly, “I’m the helpful sort, professor,” he says/jokes, Severus doesn’t know which. Then Potter pulls his wand out of its holder and casts the charm, smoothly adding an Anti-wrinkle and general Protection Shield to it. “There. That’ll about cover every eventuality Mr. Wimby should encounter on his trip to Diagon Alley. I wouldn’t want him to be so distracted by his chances of survival that he forgets to guard you.”

“Very funny, Potter.” Severus drawls dryly and starts walking towards his cottage. The Auror falls into step beside him.

“I wasn’t trying to be. I wholeheartedly agree with Nathaniel’s take on this. It was horrible around here when you were recovering at Hogwarts. It’s good to have you back, Snape.”

Severus hums noncommittally, at a loss for a better response. “Shouldn’t you be home already? I thought your shifts end at five.”

“They do. I was on my way down to check on you before heading home for the day when I spotted the two of you admiring Mr. Wimby.”

“I see.”

A thoroughly awkward silence falls between them after that. Under normal circumstances, Severus would have pointed out already that he’s not an invalid, and it’s presumptuous of Potter to assume he has any right to treat Severus as such. But Potter has always been awfully protective of his friends and hangers-on. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that, now that the Gryffindor has decided to apply that label to Severus, Potter is behaving towards him in the only way he knows how. It’s too soon to blow a hole right through that sort of behavior, isn’t it? He’ll scare the Auror away if he does that.

“I would have gladly taken you to Ollivander’s if you’d asked me,” Potter says after a while, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“But I did not ask you, Potter.”

“Ouch! I know that. I’m not judging you for not asking me or anything. It’s just that— Malfoy doesn’t spend much time in Diagon Alley. Or any other alley really. None of you, Slytherins, do.”

“So?” Severus asks testily. He’s not in the mood to explain to the savior that the world he’s building with the help of his Gryffindor cohorts is nothing short of an exclusive little paradise. The type where no former snakes are allowed. Potter won’t see what’s in front of his eyes unless he wants to see it.

“Nothing.” Potter stutters, looking down towards the floor and clumsily dipping his hands in the pockets of his official robes in a gesture that reeks of nervousness. Their conversation dies one of its usual bloody deaths once again, and Severus despairs, realizing he’s the least suitable Slytherin for the task he’s set for himself. He’s got no patience whatsoever and no particular charm to speak of. He’s going to fail at befriending Potter, just like he’s failed at befriending every other naive, soft-hearted individual he’s ever attempted to get closer to. Severus feels endlessly relieved when they finally reach his property.

Severus steps inside the protection of his garden’s wards and forces himself to face Potter, already looking forward to the soothing cup of tea he plans on drinking after mumbling the polite goodnight already breaking past his lips: “Well. Thank you for—

Potter grabs his arm suddenly, cutting off his words, and Severus is so shocked by the action that he doesn’t instantly shake the boy away. “I wasn’t trying to judge you. I was just— I’m not blind. I know things have been hard for you, Slytherins. I know how badly you are treated when you venture outside your homes. I also know that Malfoy would gladly walk through fire for you, Snape, but he doesn’t have to. I’d have taken you to Olivander’s if you’d asked. And yes, I understand that you didn’t ask me, but maybe you didn’t realize that you could.”

“Potter, you don’t have to—

“Please, let me say this. I know I don’t have to do anything to help you. But I want to do it anyway. You can ask, Snape. For anything. Any time you want. All right?”

“All right.” Severus agrees faintly. Potter squeezes the arm he’s taken hold of in a reassuring manner before letting it go altogether. Severus stands there, utterly stunned by the boy’s generous offer while Potter takes a couple of steps back and Apparates away. The lane is empty and quiet in the soft purple light of the sunset. About a million busy insects fill the silence that surrounds him with their inharmonious serenade, and Severus wonders, not for the first time, what the hell is he doing here. Life used to be much simpler when he was a Hogwarts’ professor. He’s known his colleagues for so long that not a single one of them can surprise him anymore, and the children— Well. The children had never been overly complicated. Every one of them, except the Slytherins and a few -very few- select others, had hated him.

Nowadays, Severus has lovely neighbors who respect him. Grumpy customers who need him. Members of the general public who despise him. Former snakes and a few -very few- select others who honestly adore him. There is now also a certain former student who seems determined to shock him at every step with his sudden change of heart. It’s an exhausting, but interesting existence. Severus is aware that living in interesting times isn’t necessarily a good thing, but he hasn’t been so entertained in a very long time. He’s willing to keep going, see where all this leads, but he’s wary. He’s never been the luckiest bloke out there, and he sincerely hopes his future doesn’t go pear-shaped. He needs his post-war life to remain exactly like this: interesting in a thoroughly harmless way. He’s spent too long in harm’s way already.

Next.

Back.

Comments

[teryarel]

Poor Harry - that was quite the wrong thing to say about Merlin. It's not nice being on the bad side of an incensed little boy. That hurts...

It's always so sweet to see how Nathaniel acts with Severus. I find it very cute when he over-pronounces the words that Severus has obviously taught him and those that are almost what they're supposed to be.

And Severus is so adorable when he not only accepts Nathaniel's offer to take Mr. Wimby as protection but is actually really touched by the boy's concern. Now nobody would dare look at Severus the wrong way, with his boar and his "dragon" watching over him. :P

He’ll scare the Auror away if he does that.
That sounds like Severus is going through his own "101 How to care for your Gryffindor": 1. Don't scare him off too early. Try to be less harsh in the first time of your acquaintance. (It makes me think of an older story of yours: Something about a Crabby Hermit and a book that helped Harry win his Severus. :D)

I look forward to Severus getting his new wand very much. In fact, I'm a bit chuffed that you have let poor Severus go so long without it. But I'm glad that Severus offered his help (and that he isn't oblivious to the Slytherins' stand in their society) even though it was probably too early for Severus to take him up on his offer. Is that why he didn't ask Harry?

(I'm a bit behind on my schedule - I'm travelling and didn't have time to read a chapter yesterday. So today I'll read two.)

[pekeleke]

LOL. True. Harry should have never tried to compare himself to Merlin when it was obvious that Nathaniel liked him so much. :)

I’m thrilled that you find the friendship between Nathaniel and Severus so sweet, teryarel. I’m very proud of how that relationship came across, and I had such a great time writing the chapters where Nathaniel and Severus have their ‘solo’ moments.

Yes, Severus is definitely following his own inner manual of 'How To Care For Your Gryffindor 101', and OMG! I can’t believe you still remember the plot of my crab story. That's a very old one. :D :D :D

I see that you’re not enjoying seeing Severus wandless, and he isn’t enjoying it either. But at least this gave Harry the excuse to come to his man’s -er, to Mr. Wimby’s- rescue and offer his wand-waving services. :)

Yes. Harry is definitely aware of what’s going on with the Slytherins, and I agree with you, it’s way too early for Severus to start asking Harry for favors, but at leas now he knows that he can. I don’t think Severus would have asked Harry for help anyway. Not when he is wandless and what he really needs is protection. He’d have wanted to lean on someone he trusts completely when he is so vulnerable, and that person can only be either Draco or Minerva. :D

Thanks, as always, for taking the time to both read and review another chapter of this story. Your kind and lovely comment meant the world to me. :)

[teryarel]

OMG! I can’t believe you still remember the plot of my crab story. That's a very old one. :D :D :D Yes, I remember and still like it a lot. It's sweet and fun to read.