Chasing Moonbeams. Ch18.
Aug. 5th, 2019 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pekelekeTitle: 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?”
Chapter 18.
“Look, another one,” Potter says, sotto voce, as they walk past the third wizard ambling around Diagon Alley dressed in an exact copy of the purple shirt Severus wore to their dinner with Bollingfrog and Granger.
“Merlin. How is this my life now?” Severus grumbles, feeling his cheeks heat anew with the embarrassment that every new sighting brings him. In the days that followed that accursed dinner, the press went crazy over the purple shirt Severus had worn that night. He had been horrified to find out -via The Prophet- that the store Draco bought the thing from is now out of that particular item and taking pre-orders from ‘a number of disappointed wizards.’ Draco finds the entire situation amusing and is threatening to buy him another shirt, a phoenix-bird red one this time, just to see what sort of unholy hoo-ha such item will unleash. Potter, the fiend, hasn’t stopped smirking. He’s teased Severus to within an inch of his life about the picture the papers published the day after that bloody dinner, alongside a little footnote that extolled the virtues of Severus’s sharp cheekbones, and waxed lyric about how his dark hair contrasts beautifully with his pale skin, especially when he wears bold colors.
“Stop teasing me, Potter, or I swear I’ll hex your mouth shut,” Severus growls as they finally make it into Flourish&Blotts. The boy is daring enough to snort, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughs with delighted glee.
“You should see your face. It’s like someone’s making you suck on a lemon every time you spot a new bloke wearing that shirt.”
“It’s embarrassing. I’m not used to being imitated unless it’s an act of mockery.”
“That’s not why they’re doing it, Snape.”
“I know, but it’s still a struggle to remember that. I’m a product of my past experiences, boy. And those are hard enough to overcome without throwing a thoroughly unexpected case of society-wide hero-worship into the mix."
“Welcome to my life, professor. I was a little nobody before setting foot in the Wizarding World. I went from Harry Potter, loser, to Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, in a twenty-four-hour span. It was very disorienting. At least you’re older, and can hide inside your cottage whenever you’re overwhelmed.”
“You think hiding in my cottage can save me from Draco’s merciless teasing? From Minerva’s?” Severus asks, incredulous.
“They can’t be pestering you that much,” Potter laughs, studying him intently as Severus rejects the help of a store clerk with a firm shake of his head. Severus hasn’t been physically in the store in almost seven years, he’s bought most things via catalog since the end of the war, just like every other Slytherin out there. Today Severus intends to window-shop shamelessly and bask in the dearly missed atmosphere of this book-laden paradise. The store is exactly as Severus remembers. Better, maybe, because he is here now. And he will come back again.
“Of course they are, Potter. Those two love nothing better than to watch me squirm.”
“I doubt that very much. They both love you something fierce. They’re more likely to hex blind anyone who dares to make fun of you than to join in on the joke.”
“You forget that this isn’t a joke. None of the men currently buying that thrice-accursed shirt is doing it to humiliate me. It’s some sort of bizarre tribute. They’re trying to show appreciation. Draco and Minerva are tickled pink, and so amused by my discomfort in the face of the public’s positive attention that they can’t resist poking fun at me.”
Potter runs a distracted fingertip down the spine of a thick Arithmancy tome. “I liked him. Malfoy, I mean. I’ve always liked McGonagall, but I thought he was a right plonker when we were at school. He isn’t, though. I’d promised myself I’d punch his nose bloody if he so much as dared to sneer at Hermione during dinner, but he was charming and witty. A perfect fucking gentleman. He is nothing like I thought he’d be. I bet none of them are.”
Severus grabs the latest edition of Poisons For Proficient Potioneers and cracks it open, studying the index intently as he points out as nonchalantly as he can: “You forgot to include me in that list. You used to think I was a right plonker too.”
“But I already know you aren’t,” Potter says softly. “I’ve learned a lot about you in the last couple of years. It’s the other Slytherins I know nothing about, and I’m starting to realize that’s a crying shame. We’re missing out on a great bunch of people, aren’t we, professor? Every one of them is bright and enterprising, and could have helped us move forward a lot faster, but we never gave them the chance.”
Severus looks up from his book, heartbeat pounding in his ears. He feels suddenly weak at the knees, struggling to breathe under the heavy weight of the sheer amount of hope alighting upon his shoulders. “It’s not too late to give them that chance, Potter.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Of course. And I’m not the only one. Rumor has it that Parkinson is behind the sudden increase in the efficiency of the French version of St. Mungo’s care management program for the elderly. They’ve been trying to do the same thing here but, so far, it’s been a total disaster. I told Padma the other day to stop dragging her bloody feet about it and make Parkinson an offer she can’t possibly refuse. Why should the French benefit from her expertise in healthcare management?”
“Because they trained her when no Magical British University would accept her? Because they hired her when St. Mungo’s failed to do so? Slytherins don’t take bullying sitting down. If British Wizarding society brushes us off, we look for success somewhere else.”
“Isn’t that a bit petty?”
“Petty? No. This is what being cunning and ambitious means. It has nothing to do with plotting to take over the world. It’s about getting back on your feet when everyone pushes you down. It’s about surviving long enough to have the last laugh. We, Slytherins, like to prove our points, and we despise giving up.”
“You’ve proved your point all right. We’re stagnating in the sort of fields your lot usually takes over. Other European countries are starting to flourish in them instead, and that’s because they’re employing the people we shun here. It’s time to bring all that talent back. We are weaker without it.”
Severus tries to swallow the huge lump that’s attempting to settle in the middle of his throat, but he doesn’t manage it entirely. He looks down, towards the book still grasped in his hands, lest his gaze betray the depth of his emotions at the moment. Recognition is a heady thing indeed, and to have it now, to hear it stated so openly, is a gift he wasn’t expecting to receive so early into their friendship. He can’t wait to tell the kids, especially Pansy. She’ll start cackling round the corners when she hears that young Miss. Patil is going to have to swallow the nasty words she wrote in the letter she’d sent to Pansy two years ago, informing her of St. Mungo's decision to reject her job application. "Those are very mature thoughts, Potter," he says carefully and ends up having to look up at the boy when he hears him snort.
“That’s not maturity talking, Snape. It’s desperation. We need them more than they need us, I’d wager.”
Severus hums noncommittally and walks towards the end of the aisle, fingertips catching on the stiff leathery spines of the books along the way. “It’s always good to be recognized at home. They studied here. They live here. Most of them would love to marry, and settle, here. Necessity isn’t the only motivator out there.”
“I know that too,” the brat says, following him down the aisle like a faithful shadow. Severus shivers at the sudden gruffness of the Auror’s voice, at the unfamiliar feeling of Potter’s breath crashing against his shoulder-blade. They reach the end of the narrow corridor and Severus has nowhere else to go. He looks forward blindly, dark gaze catching sight of gold-embossed titles relating to magical creatures such as Gryphons and the Antipodean Opaleye. He’s got no interest in that sort of thing. No earthly excuse to be here. But turning around will bring him face to face with Harry Potter, will cut this strange instant short, and he’s inexplicably reluctant to do so. Potter has the sort of presence other men can’t ignore. Severus feels him breathing quietly behind him, filling the space at his back like a protective shield, and can’t help the thought that no one has tried to shelter him from anything in far too long. Severus doesn’t need protecting, of course, but the feeling is still nice. Still novel enough to intrigue him and make him wonder what having it round the clock would feel like.
“Victoire doesn’t have that one yet,” Potter says, pointing at a small and colorful book in the corner, “Maybe I should buy it for her.” Severus reaches out and pulls the slim tome off the shelf. It’s a picture book about unicorns geared towards small children. He flips curiously through it and comes to the conclusion that the art is absolutely gorgeous.
“I’m sure she’d be delighted. The images are exquisite. She’s a lucky girl, your Victoire.” Severus says softly, turning around just enough to pass the book to Potter. Their fingertips brush briefly, and the Auror flashes him a smile that’s bright like sunshine before dropping his gaze downward bashfully.
“She’s not mine. But she’s special all right.” Potter laughs,”I think Nathaniel would like her.”
Severus stands there, trapped in that cool and quiet corner of Flourish&Blotts with The Boy Who Lived, and suddenly realizes something horrifying: Potter is kind. Genuinely, charmingly, kind. And Severus has the most terrible weakness for kind people. It’s what once drove him to Regulus. To Lily. And to Albus. It’s what keeps him coming back to Minerva, and what makes him put up with Hagrid’s ridiculous nonsense, even though he finds the giant’s tendency to ‘domesticate’ lethal creatures on the school’s grounds beyond frustrating. Kind people often break Severus’s heart, and he’s had more than enough of that already.
“He might. Nathaniel has a generous soul. He likes almost everyone.”
“Everyone except for Bryce Hillen.” Potter reminds him,“I had a few words with that boy after I took Nate to Hogwarts. The Hillen kid is a waist-high jackass. I’ll give you this much, Snape: you have a fine nose indeed for picking up the right pupils. Nathaniel is kind, clever, and can spot a nasty bastard a mile away. He has excellent taste in people.”
Severus hums, wondering what the Gryffindor expects him to do with such roundabout compliment. “Would your Victoire like Mr. Hillen? The boy is popular with the rest of the kids in Sunlit Lane, especially the girls.” Severus says in the end, waving a hand in the direction of the main floor to indicate his desire to leave the cramped side-aisle.
“Nah. She’ll despise him on sight.” Potter laughs, instantly responding to Severus’s queue and heading towards the till, “Chances are she’ll never meet him. Victoire lives in France. She’ll go to Beauxbatons when she is of age.”
“I’m sure she’ll be happy enough there. Beauxbatons is a wonderful school. Draco was supposed to attend. Lucius thought that’d strengthen the boy’s ties with the French side of the family, but Narcissa put her foot down. She wanted to keep her son close. Sometimes I wish Lucius never caved to her desires. Draco would have been safer on the continent.”
“Hey,” Potter turns around to face him, curls a tanned and calloused hand around the ball of Severus’s bony shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze. “At least he wasn’t alone at Hogwarts. You were there with him every step of the way.”
Severus would have snorted indelicately if he wasn’t busy feeling vulnerable. He finds Potter’s kindness disarming, and it terrifies him. Severus doesn’t want Potter to become one of his terrible weaknesses. Potter isn’t a Slytherin, a cantankerous elder, or a child. Potter is heroic, attractive, straight. He is also madly in love with a motherly sort and twenty years Severus’s junior. Allowing himself to become—aware of the boy will only lead to disaster. “I think it’s time I head home.” He says quietly, choosing to retreat from this moment that feels too much like the sort of profound emotional connection no sane person would attempt to share with a mere friend. The boy’s hand drops away ever so slowly, alongside the brightness of that lovely smile of his.
“I was planning to head over to the Leaky for a spot of dinner after this, but maybe we can share a quick pint if you’re short on time.”
“Not today. I’ve been up since four-thirty, and I’m exhausted.”
“Tomorrow then?” The boy insists. “Tom has this new menu that rotates different sorts of food depending on the day of the week. Saturdays is Sweet&Sour Surprise. I ate an awesome shrimp dish on my first go, and the most horrendous Brussels-sprout concoction on my second. The hit and miss element is part of the experience. What say you, Snape? Fancy joining me on a gastronomic adventure?”
Severus laughs despite himself when the boy wriggles his eyebrows. “Fine. I’ll risk Tom’s Sweet&Sour Surprise. But if I die of food poisoning, my ghost will haunt you forever.”
“Stop whining. You’ll be fine,” Potter swats him playfully on the arm, and Severus allows himself to enjoy the banter as Potter steps towards the till to pay for the unicorn picture book. This is what he wants: simple, easy, uncomplicated friendship. And he can have it. He just needs to be wary of the boy’s charming kindness, and that should be easy enough to do now that he’s identified it as a potential problem.
“Goodnight, Potter. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Severus bides the Auror goodbye once they’ve stepped outside the store and reached the closest apparition point.
“Yeah. See you tomorrow. ‘Round Seven?”
“Seven will be fine. I’ll meet you there.” Severus replies and watches Potter’s smile grow warm and delighted.
“You’ll love it. You’ll see,” Potter says, taking a step back and flapping his right hand wildly in farewell. “Night, night, Snape.”
The Auror Apparates away before Severus can respond, or wave his hand back, but he doesn’t truly mind. Severus likes the casualness of this friendship of theirs. Likes their simple interactions and the ease that’s slowly growing between them. He genuinely likes the man Harry Potter has become. Who would have thought it?
Next.
Back.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-12 11:24 am (UTC)This is so well said. I always disliked the way the Slytherins were pictured in the books a whole house that's filled with nothing but bigoted, we-are-better-than-you, snotty, prejudiced, bad, and evil children and teenagers who do nothing but ridicule, hurt, and betray everyone around them. I never understood why an author would choose to portray every single one of them as being tainted in some way, and unlikable... These words you used, they seem to comprise the spirit of that house much more than whatever portrayal they received in the books.
Aah. There it is. All those are people close to his heart. And Harry, just by being himself, has found the way there - if it weren't for Severus who has to try and push it closed in front of Harry's nose. But Harry is a Gryffindor. If the real hedge was not high enough to deter him, how could a metaphoric closed door ever be? ;)
Yes, Severus, we know that you have a heart and that you want to guard it. But this is Harry - the kind (as you yourself have already established) wizard, who would be there to protect you. Why can't you just let him in? Hm? I mean, who cares about courting disaster, eh? It will be fine. Just try it. Yes? *nudge, wink*
Severus! *bristles* No. No! Not that again! *rolls eyes*
Dear author, how many more chapters of completely unnecessary and equally fruitless as frustrating denial do we have to go through? And how many chapters did you say were in this story? Ah, my poor heart...
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-12 02:39 pm (UTC)I’m glad that Severus’s description of what being Slytherin truly means resonated with you, teryarel. I, too, have always been unhappy with the way cannon demonizes the Slytherins. Especially when you take into account that the worst traitor in the entire series was a Gryffindor and two of the most active members of the Order of the Phoenix, and by far the ones who fought the hardest against Voldemort, were Slytherins.
Yes, kindness is such a dangerous thing to Severus. He is attracted to it, like a moth, and just like a moth too, he usually gets burned whenever he allows his fascination to get the better of him. Albus and Lily weren’t kind to him in the end, despite how loyal Severus was to both of them. Harry is neither Albus nor Lily. He’ll take care of Severus’s every emotional need, but Severus doesn’t know that yet, so he is understandably wary. :)
” Dear author, how many more chapters of completely unnecessary and equally fruitless as frustrating denial do we have to go through? “ Really? You’re seriously asking for spoilers again?
No. I’m not doing it. I’m not telling you a single thing about anything you haven’t read yet, teryarel. You’ll just have to wait and see. BE PATIENT! :D :D :D
” And how many chapters did you say were in this story?” OK, this one I’ll answer since it’s already there on the author's note I added to the story’s header: There are 35 chapters to this fic, teryarel. And you’re only in chapter 18. That means I can torture you with unnecessary, fruitless and frustrating denial for at least another 16 chapters. That is assuming I wasn’t mean enough to leave Severus’s realization of what’s going on here to the very last one. *smirks evilly*
Anyway, thanks, as usual, for taking the time to both read and review another chapter of this fic, my long-suffering friend, your kind and lovely comment left me grinning from ear to ear. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-12 07:10 pm (UTC)*lip quivers*
Wha-?! You are heartless, pekeleke! Your poor reader is at your mercy and you just... just... hint at 16 chapters of torture? *wails* (eyes the pretty 'Next' button)
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-13 09:38 am (UTC)Okay, okay. *calms down* There is a way, there's always a way. I'm being bold and using the tags to navigate to the next chapter. So, there. :P
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-13 01:24 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for letting me know about this snag, though. I think you're the only person reading this fic in the journals at this point, so any mistakes like this go unnoticed until you bring them to my attention. :D
Good call on deciding to be bold and using the tags to find your way to the next chapter. I was properly impressed. :D :D :D
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-13 06:16 pm (UTC)Thank you! *preens* ;)