Chasing Moonbeams. Ch28.

[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 28.

 

In the following weeks, Severus is relieved to discover that Harry’s idea of courting a man looks a lot like his concept of friendship with a substantial amount of hand-holding, soulful gazing, and the occasional bold reminder of affection thrown in. Thankfully, there are no dreadful recitations of amateurish poetry. No gaudy boxes of expensive chocolates delivered by exhausted owls to his cottage or sickeningly sweet-smelling flowers shoved under his nose by an earnest Gryffindor suitor. Harry in love looks pretty much like an over-excited, touchy-feely, regular Harry, so there isn’t any discernible change in the Auror's behavior towards him except maybe a little less subtlety when it comes to the number of times the boy seeks him out during working hours.

Harry used to wait for the right opportunity to speak to Severus, catching him mostly whenever he ventured out to visit Nathaniel or if they crossed each other in the lane by coincidence. Nowadays, the brat simply ambles down the road towards Severus’s cottage and calls out to him, or sends in his Patronus to alert him that he’s outside the garden gate, and expects Severus to come out and not only greet him but also indulge him by listening to whatever inane ramblings the idiot feels like sharing at the time. Severus is reasonably certain that he’d have set any other bloke who attempted to hijack his precious time thus on fire within ten seconds of their first attempt to do so but, for some inexplicable reason, he finds Harry’s blatant attention-seeking endearing. He’s cast more stasis spells over half-brewed potions in the last three weeks than he’s done in the past two decades combined, and he hasn’t grown tired of it yet.

Another recent development is the way the Auror invariably breaks into the most irritatingly attractive blinding smile Severus has ever seen every single time their gazes connect. It’s embarrassing really, how weak at the knees Severus becomes whenever that goofy smile flashes his way. Harry is open in his delight to Severus’s presence and eager to exchange a few words with him wherever they meet regardless of whether Severus is alone or accompanied by either Nathaniel or one of his former Slytherin students.

Just the other day, the Gryffindor had spotted him as he sat with Gregory, Theodore, and Draco on one of the little terraced bistros that litter the heart of Elegant Alley and approached the group, crashing their outing without so much as a by your leave. Severus’s snakes had been understandably shocked at Harry’s boldness in approaching them, but that had been nothing compared to the amazed wonder they’d exhibited when Harry proceeded to give Theo a friendly pat on the shoulder and casually informed the poor besotted fool that ‘Ginny’ had been singing his praises lately. By the time Severus’s poor boys had recovered from the shock of being treated so amicably by the Boy Who Lived, Harry had already grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and, plonking it beside Severus’s, sat himself firmly on it, joining their gathering without raising a single protest.

Harry had shamelessly quizzed both Greg and Draco about their careers, quietly congratulating young Goyle upon learning he’s about to open his first office in London, and blatantly asking Draco what were the DMLE’s chances that he’d ever consider working for them in the near future. His open interest in Draco’s answer hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Severus’s godson has been a mass of nerves ever since.

Thinking back on the last few days as they wander aimlessly around the picturesque little lake Harry had been adamant they visit today, Severus can see a clear pattern emerging, one that worries him deeply. The Auror has been uncharacteristically pensive lately. Quieter than usual, and also sort of clingy when it comes to his regular interactions with the other Sunlit Lane neighbors. It’s becoming increasingly apparent that the brat is wrestling with the idea of accepting Robbards’ latest job offer and Severus wonders what that would look like. He sincerely hopes they won’t be saddled with bloody Wiggings if that happens because then Severus may feel tempted to hex the ridiculous idiot’s mouth shut, and that could potentially damage both their reputations at a time when they can hardly afford a scandal. Public opinion is a fickle thing indeed, and Severus fears it may turn against him once again when the paparazzi finally realize that he’s set his sights on Harry.

“Hey, what’s wrong, moonbeam? You’ve been scowling at the lake for the last five minutes straight.” Harry asks suddenly, coming to a halt beside a rather picturesque willow tree and placing a hand upon his arm to make sure he stops walking too. Severus’s stomach does that increasingly familiar flip thing it likes to do whenever Harry uses the term of endearment. Severus is becoming steadily charmed by his petname and the fact that Harry’s voice turns soft and rumbly every time he utters it doesn’t help Severus’s admittedly half-hearted efforts to remain immune to it in the slightest.

“I’m contemplating the likelihood that I’ll end up hexing Wiggins blind within a fortnight of that judgmental idiot landing the Sunlit Lane beat after you leave,” Severus confesses. After his early decision to give Harry his honesty that day in the bakery, Severus has remained steadfastly adamant on offering his thoughts as they are and, so far, Harry has never disappointed him in his willingness to deal with his sometimes blunt explanations, rather than demanding Severus softens them somehow, as Albus would have done. Severus decided weeks ago that he wants a partner. Furthermore, he decided that he wants this particular partner, and he is emotionally aware enough to realize that they’ll never grow any closer unless Harry makes the effort of accepting him as he is, which -so far- the Gryffindor is most certainly doing diligently.

Despite his desire for companionship, Severus promised himself that he’d put no effort whatsoever on a relationship that’ll force him to whitewash his thoughts and instincts. He is neither soft-hearted Hufflepuff nor morally-golden Gryffindor. And he never will be. He is a Slytherin: dark-ish, impatient, ambitious, and self-serving. He also has a shockingly twisted perception of others. He’s bitter, suspicious, and petty to boot. He’s got the sort of emotional baggage that any sane person would run away from as fast as possible. And he is trying his very best to find out sooner rather than later if there’s anything among that lot that Harry can’t cope with. It’ll be infinitely better for them both to learn that before things progress any further.

Harry laughs, giving every appearance of feeling both startled and relieved by the relatively mild nature of Severus’s ‘dark’ thoughts. “Maybe he needs hexing. He’ll sure learn to be more conscious of other people’s feelings if you put him through his paces. Word ‘round the office is that the man is an insufferable prat.”

Severus hums, dark gaze fixed distractedly on the swaying tall grass that surrounds them. He’s not exactly disappointed by the fact that Harry hasn’t picked up on why exactly the idea of hexing Wiggins disturbs him so, but he’s not content with it either. They’re both completely different in outlook and personality. Regulus had been much more attuned to the ins and outs of Severus’s thought process. Harry’s naivety and general optimism rub Severus the wrong way sometimes. Having faith in others unless proved wrong isn’t necessarily a bad character trait, it’s just something Severus doesn’t share, and they’ll have to find a way of adjusting to each other’s different perspectives, somehow. “Hexing an Auror sounds like a pretty good reason for the public goodwill I currently enjoy to turn sour, Harry. Today perfect strangers may be happy enough prancing around wearing the same clothes I wore to one outing or another, but that may very well change tomorrow.”

“That’s a rather gloomy outlook,” Harry says softly, callused palm rubbing up and down Severus’s arm soothingly.

“Is it? My reputation precedes me, I’m afraid. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. And I played the role twice.”

“You’re also the only one who was brave enough to become a spy for The Light. You saved countless lives for little to no recognition, and now the public knows that too. I doubt anyone would side with a confirmed arsehole like Wiggins if it came down to a spat between the two of you.”

“You forget that I’m a confirmed arsehole too. And the level of my arseholery far outweighs Wiggins’s.”

“Well. Wiggins isn’t a war hero. He doesn’t laugh upon getting ugly socks for Christmas, doesn’t have a ‘charming air’ when he wears glasses or a hope in hell of pulling off wearing jewel-colored shirts with the same aplomb as you. Your fans will find him wanting.”

Severus’s smirk isn’t amused at all. He doesn’t want to be soothed. He is making a valid point and wants Harry to take it seriously. “You think the ultimate decision will be influenced by the fit of my reading glasses or Draco’s questionable fashion choices? He doesn’t even pick the shirts he gifts me carefully anymore. He is trying to see how far he can push my patience.”

“Why are you so worried about this?” Harry asks, finally catching onto Severus’s lack of interest in brushing the topic under the carpet. “You’ve never cared about what anyone thought of you before.”

“Because without the public’s goodwill, this relationship of ours may cost you your reputation, and limit your future professional options.”

“I couldn’t care less if you’re popular or not. I’m sticking to you, either way, moonbeam.”

“Don’t be obtuse, Harry. You are young and attractive. You could easily decide to find yourself someone more suitable. Someone who knows how to play the crowds, and is more asset than disadvantage when it comes to helping you reach your full potential.”

“You think I’d leave you?” Harry gapes, appalled.

“I think someone will counsel you to at least consider it and, once you do that, you may very well come to the conclusion that it makes perfect sense.”

“Severus-

“Listen to me: I can tell you’ve been thinking about accepting Robbards’ job offer. That will put you on track to becoming the next Minister of Magic. Should I lose public support, your poor choice of partner could hinder your chances of making it to the top, every adviser worth his salt is going to tell you that.”

“Fuck the top then. I’m not accepting the new job to sit in the Minister’s chair, even if that’s where it’ll eventually lead. I’m accepting it to force some sense inside the idiotic skulls of a specific bunch of Section Department Heads within the DMLE. I already told Robbards I’m not leaving the Safe Neighborhood Program unless he commits not only to hiring Malfoy but to also give him the fucking senior position he deserves. The man is a decorated Auror in the continent for Merlin’s sake! I want him on my team.”

“And that, right there, is why I want you at the top, Harry. Call me selfish if you must, but I need you there. I want to spend the rest of my days basking in the perks of the kind of society only you can create.”

“Then I’ll get there. I promise.”

“Please don’t say that.”

Harry frowns, clearly puzzled. “Why not? I thought you’d be pleased. You just said you wanted me to-

“And that’s precisely the problem. I want you to get there, and I’m Slytherin enough to try to manipulate you into doing as I please if you give me half the chance. So don’t give it to me.”

“I don’t actually see the issue.”

“Well, I do. You’re clearly not as enthusiastic as the rest of us about becoming the next Minister of Magic. You have, in fact, spent the last several years doing everything in your power to thwart the plans of those who are trying their best to put you there.”

“That’s not exactly true, moonbeam. I only stayed in the Safe Neighborhood Program because I ended up in your neighborhood. I’m not some poor innocent lamb who has weirdly fluffy dreams of patrolling Sunlit Lane for the next thirty years. I landed there by chance, fell for you so fast I couldn't tell left from right, and stayed on the beat because I’m a stalking little freak who shamelessly uses his job to keep tabs on his crush.”

“And yet you told me you’ve no interest in either joining proper active duty or landing a desk-bound job. I know exactly what being manipulated into playing a role you don’t care for feels like, Harry. I never wanted to become a professor. I was ordered to apply for the position, and then guilted into magically binding myself to it until the end of the war. I lived a life that made me deeply unhappy for twenty long years. I’ve no interest in pushing you into a similar situation.”

“You aren’t. I swear. I want our world to be different too. I put my faith in other people’s vision of the future, but they’re either too lazy or too afraid to push for real change. I’ve got all this fame I never knew what to do with and, when I used it to aid you, I realized how simple it’d be for me to nudge our society in the right direction. I want to get to the top too, Severus. I don’t want to do it only for you, or for myself. I want to do it for everyone. We’ve got to stop the cycle of hatred that’s taken hold of the Wizarding World since the war ended.”

“Then you might be better off keeping the nature of our association private and finding some sort of frontman to parade before the cameras. I’m not the ideal romantic partner for the future Minister Of Magic.”

“Fuck that. You are my ideal romantic partner, and that’s all I care about,” Harry huffs, “I won’t do this on anybody’s terms but mine. And I won’t do it without you.”

Severus frowns, too caught up in finding a reasonable solution to the worst-case scenario to put much stock on Harry’s naive words. “You won’t be doing it without me. You’ll just-

“I won’t just- whatever it is you expect me to do with this hypothetical frontman of yours. I refuse to treat you like a dark, embarrassing secret. I’m dead serious, moonbeam.” Harry says firmly, staring into his eyes intently as he lifts both hands to cup Severus’s face between his palms. “We'll go as slow as you need, I promise. We'll keep our relationship private for as long as you want it to be. But I'm never going to deny it exists, and I’m not going anywhere without you. Do you understand me?”

Severus’s breath hitches at the finality of the tone. He’s never been the deciding factor in anyone’s life-choices before, but here is Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, telling him he most certainly is that for him. “You are being reckless. It's too soon to voice that sort of commitment.” Severus feels compelled to share his opinion on the matter and isn’t particularly shocked when Harry shakes his head in stubborn disagreement.

“No, it isn't.”

“Yes, it is.”

Harry sighs, loops the lock of Severus’s hair that’s fallen across his face behind his left ear and raises up on his tiptoes to place a delicate, close-mouthed kiss on the cheek he’s just exposed. “Let’s agree to disagree then, beautiful.” He says softly, and Severus can’t think of a single word to counter that ridiculously mushy sentiment. Harry’s soft peck to his cheek leaves him speechless. And charmed. He feels hopeful, adored, and dangerously close to trusting Harry Potter with his emotionally-fragile heart.

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