Chasing Moonbeams. Ch24.
Aug. 10th, 2019 05:52 pm![[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 24.
Severus doesn’t see Potter for the next four days even though he is not actively avoiding the man. There has been some sort of emergency in the Auror department. Daphne says her father mentioned that a routine investigation of privately-owned cursed property has gone belly up. Longbottom was rushed to St. Mungo’s, along with Brilligand, a former Hufflepuff turned mediocre curse-breaker who happens to be the best ‘expert’ the DMLE has to offer since they no longer employ former Slytherins. Everyone else who bothers to study curse-breaking is glad to exchange the political back-stabbing typical of Ministry employment for the relative calmer working environment of Gringotts.
The papers haven’t gotten hold of the story yet, and Severus finds comfort in that, for it means that, regardless of what might be wrong with him, Longbottom is still alive. No force on Earth would have prevented The Prophet from announcing the untimely, though heroic, demise of Nagini’s slayer if such a thing had come to pass. Some pimple-faced whelp -Wiggins, former Ravenclaw, passable at misdirecting potions and terrible at Transfigurations- has taken over Potter’s beat. The boy is slightly judgmental, and so utterly wet behind the ears that he spent three hours yesterday trapped just outside old Esther’s front door, listening to her ever-ready stories about the antics of ‘dear old Willoughby’ who Wiggins was unfortunate enough to have to rescue -twice- from the depths of her conker tree.
Severus doesn’t necessarily hate the change, but he is not precisely indifferent to it. He’s grown used to seeing Potter at random intervals during the day. Used to hearing the savior’s voice, the savior’s laughter, even though until recently neither was directed at him. Severus has been shocked to discover that he misses the boy and isn’t sure if their newborn friendship gives him free rein to contact him or not, particularly at a time like now, when Potter is so obviously busy attending to the health of a much older, much closer friend.
Severus is kneeling in dusty splendor just outside his cottage, patiently coaching Nathaniel into drawing a Vanishing Rune on the cobblestones with a conjured chalk -an orange one, of course- when the ex-Gryffindor finally shows up in Sunlit Lane.
“You’re so good with him,” Potter says in lieu of a conventional greeting, and Severus wonders if that is the sort of statement that birthed the hopelessly inaccurate ‘Harry Potter is in love with a motherly sort’ rumor.
“Harry! Where have you been?” Nathaniel jumps from his crouched position and hops over to Potter before Severus has enough time to open his mouth. He comes to his feet too, waves his wand in a lazy arch to vanish the conjured chalk sticks scattered all over the road, and can’t help the smirk that settles across his lips as Nathaniel proceeds to dish out all the dirt he’s collected on Potter’s young -and painfully stuffy- replacement. “You can not leave ever again, Harry. Or you have to promise that you’ll send us an Auror that’s as cool as you when you go. Auror Wiggins is nice, but he doesn’t like Mr. Wimby. He called my boar ugly, can you believe it? And then he told grandma off for letting me stick it to the garden gate ‘cause it’s un-sigh-tly. He said Mr. Wimby makes the other houses look cheap. Master Snape had to call him a med-dle-some mo-ron in that growl-y voice of his to get him to shut up. He was upsetting grandma, you know? I don’t like it when grandma is upset. When I grow up I’m gonna have a frightening growl-y voice too. Master Snape promised to teach me how to do it when I’m older. It’s gonna be so cool! Do you have a growl-y voice, Harry?”
“Er- I don’t know? But I don’t think there is a single wizard in all of England whose growl-y voice is more impressive than Master Snape’s.”
Nathaniel nods enthusiastically, all bouncy agreement and dazzled growl-worship. “I know! It’s awesome, right? Mine is gonna be just like it.”
“Hmmm. What are the two of you up to? Am I looking at the latest in orange street art?”
Nathaniel laughs, bright and carefree, and grabs hold of Potter’s hand, dragging him closer. “It’s a Va-ni-shing Rune, silly. Master Snape is teaching me how to draw them. He put that flower pot over there in the middle of one and made it go back into his house. It was so cool!”
“Ah! I never learned runes at Hogwarts, but my friend Hermione thinks they’re fascinating.”
Nathaniel wrinkles his tiny nose, “What does Fascanating mean?”
“It’s fas-ci-na-ting, mate. Not fascanating. It means something is cool, you know? Special.”
“I see. Your friend sounds super-smart, Harry. How many different words for the same thing does she know?”
Potter smiles fondly and ruffles the child’s hair. “Loads and loads. I think she swallowed a dictionary when she was little.”
“Ewww! That must be worse than cabbage, and cabbage is the worst. I’m never going to swallow a dictionary. Not even if grandma says it’ll make me grow as tall as a Mountain Troll. Mountain Trolls are too big anyway. And they fart! It’s because they eat so much cabbage, Timmy Fickamore says so.”
“Timmy Ficamore has never seen a Mountain Troll in his life, Nathaniel. Reading fictional accounts about them doesn’t count as proper knowledge.” Severus intervenes before the conversation deteriorates into a lengthy dissertation of the headache-inducing plot of the latest storybook to take the Ficamore boy’s fancy.
“But proper books are boring! Grandma reads proper books. They never have adventures in them. They only talk about conflits.”
“Conflicts,” Severus corrects patiently, taking hold of the child’s hand in order to herd him securely up the lane. “Now come on. I bet your grandma is wondering what’s taking us so long. She did mention you’re scheduled for a haircut in an hour.”
“Haircuts are boring!” Nathaniel sulks at once. “I want to grow my hair long like yours, Master Snape. I want to have that pony-thingy. It’s cool. And I want glasses too! I’m gonna ask Santa to give me ugly socks for Christmas so grandma can take a picture of me that’s as awesome as yours. Then I’m gonna put them on my wall side by side.”
Severus startles and, coming to a flustered stop in the middle of the road, looks down at the child. “Am I to assume that you’ve asked your grandmother to save that ridiculous clipping from The Prophet’s article?”
“’Course I did. Everybody saved it. All my friends, and even Bryce.”
“I see,” Severus says, thanking Merlin that he doesn’t stammer, even though he can’t come up with anything else to add just now. He is bright red, he knows. Can clearly feel the spreading heat of the inconveniently-timed blush currently climbing up his neck and across his cheeks.
Potter smiles gently at him, “May I?” He asks, and when a flustered Severus gives him an uncertain nod of confused agreement to whatever the boy is asking him permission to do, Potter reaches out very carefully over Nathaniel’s head and takes hold of a random lock of Severus’s hair, letting the feathery tips brush back and forth across the pad of his thumb.
“I saved that clipping too, Snape,” The Savior tells him in that shiver-inducing raw tone that has the power to make Severus grow weak at the knees. “I have a copy of the original picture too. Headmistress McGonagall gave it to me. I hope you don’t mind.”
Severus’s throat goes as dry as parchment paper. His blush deepens, and his eyes widen with something that is neither fear nor hope. His very gut feels alive with fluttery exhilaration, and there’s a tingly sort of awareness taking hold of his every sense. He knows there’s no way that’s true, but he’d swear he can feel the softness of the skin of Potter’s thumb with the very tips of his hair, “O-of course I don’t mind. We’re friends. Remember?” He stammers. The clumsiness of his attempt at accepting the Savior’s possible/probable/shockingly blatant flirting embarrasses him so completely that Severus closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with the fingertips of his free hand. Merlin! He is out of practice.
“Snape?” Potter’s tone sharpens with concern, and when Severus opens his eyes once again, it is to the sight of the Auror’s hand curled into a loose fist as far away from his hair as humanly possible. “Did my touch offend you?”
“Of course not, you, idiot.” Severus snaps, more irritated with himself than with the boy. “It was just a lock of hair.” Shockingly, the brat’s smile returns as soon as he finds himself on the receiving end of Severus’s snark.
“So I can touch it again?” The Gryffindor asks cheekily and then proceeds to do exactly that before Severus can answer, “It’s so soft— I, too, think your long hair is beyond cool, professor. I love your pony-thingy. And your tiny reading glasses. But the thing I like the best about that picture is the expression on your face. You look so happy. I love watching you laugh.”
Severus colors anew. He may feel clumsy and tongue-tied but doesn’t have the slightest inclination to run away, screaming. Potter is definitely flirting with him. Furthermore, the savior has boldly dared to use the word ‘love’ in connection with him not once, but twice. Potter is making eyes at him and shuffling restlessly from left to right, obviously nervous. He is blushing as much as Severus himself, and his smile is shy and bright and full of hope. Severus takes a deep breath and lets himself sink into the moment. Lets himself drown in the depths of Potter’s gaze. Allows himself to be enchanted by his smile. Charmed by his words.
Potter swallows visibly and tries to shuffle forward, prompting Nathaniel to complain with a loud “Hey!” that breaks the moment, “Why are you trying to squish me, Harry?”
Severus blinks out of his daze and looks down at the child, wondering if he should consider himself lucky or not to be accompanied by so effective a chaperon. Potter mumbles a jittery-sounding, “Sorry, mate. There was er- a pothole. I didn’t want to trip on it.” Nathaniel accepts that frankly pathetic excuse with a trusting shrug and they all turn their attention to the business of resuming their slow trek up the road. Five steps later, Potter takes hold of Nathaniel’s free hand, and they walk thus the rest of the way. Both of them humming distractedly at the child that hops happily between them while babbling a mile a minute. Both of them feeling fluttery and shy in equal measure, throwing little looks at one another from the corner of their eyes. Severus wonders if they’re finally on the same page regarding this thing that’s growing between them, or if Minerva is wrong about the boy’s supposedly romantic feelings towards him and Severus is registering perfectly innocent friendly overtures as flirting because he wants to do so.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-18 04:08 pm (UTC)Oh, I quite agree. :D 'rawrr'
Awww... I think you capture this carefree, childish babbling very well. Nathaniel is so adorable. :)
This must have been Snape-Speak for 'I like when you do that. Please, do it again.' And Harry seems to be somewhat fluent in Snape-Speak. :P
And there we have their first mutual almost-moment. Yay! I really don't understand why you wrote 'Extremely Slow burn' in the warnings.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-19 03:07 pm (UTC)Yes. Nathaniel is adorable. I loved writing every single chapter where he shows up and I’m glad to hear that you think his characterization as a bubbly little kid is believable. :)
LOL. Of course Harry is somewhat fluent in Snape speak, otherwise, he’d be totally miserable, hiding in a corner because Snape keeps enlarging his bloody hedge every time he tries to engage the man in casual conversation. ^,~
” And there we have their first mutual almost-moment. Yay! I really don't understand why you wrote 'Extremely Slow burn' in the warnings.’ LOL. Because this first mutual moment is taking place in ch24? I recall SOMEONE I know demanding a certain, definite, and without a doubt happy ending all the way back in ch5, you know? :)
I’m thrilled that you enjoyed this chapter, teryarel. Thanks, as always, for taking the time to both read and review another chapter of Chasing Moonbeams. Your kind and lovely comment meant the world to me. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2019-08-19 06:46 pm (UTC)Really? Was that way back in chapter 5? O_O It seems like yesterday. Not that I have any recollection of anybody demanding anything from you. ;) (And once I got the confirmation that the happy ending would be happening, there was less pressure and I've since learned to be patient. Or so.) :P