Chasing Moonbeams. Ch29.

[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 29.

 

Severus’s decision to take some time to strengthen their new relationship before accepting Harry’s invitation to visit Gringotts together proves to be a wise move. Despite his determination not to do so, once inside Regulus’s vault, Severus can’t help feeling swamped by the weight of about a thousand memories of perfectly beautiful instants belonging to a romance that never grew old. Never knew strife. Never became anything other than glorious perfection. Severus’s former lover had been kind. He’d been clever. Talented. Young. Brave— He’d been everything Severus had ever wanted, and even though Severus can no longer have him, he still misses him desperately. Still loves him in a way that’ll probably never end.

Harry wanders the relatively small vault behind him, quietly shadowing his every step and witnessing Severus’s mounting distress in respectful silence. He offers to leave him alone inside the vault, but the goblin that has accompanied them down refuses to allow Severus to stay if Harry goes. The vault belongs to Potter, and nobody else is permitted to access it unless he is physically present.

What follows is a harrowing experience for both of them. Severus points out item after item with growing stiffness while Harry calmly instructs the goblin to add it to the growing list of things waiting to be immediately transferred to Severus’s own vault. By the end of it all, Severus has stopped speaking altogether, and the boy looks pale and wary. They stand side by side on the steps of the bank, surrounded by the dusk’s purple shadows, and Severus shivers from head to toes despite the relative warmth of the early summer evening. Harry shuffles closer and doesn’t hesitate at all before rubbing both his arms comfortingly.

“Are you all right?” The brat asks softly, green gaze worried and disarmingly gentle. Severus knows he should try to change the topic, but he is tired to death of putting up a strong front. He wants to lean forward and let himself crumble in Harry’s arms, allow the boy to become his shelter in this instant where he feels so emotionally fragile.

“No. I’m not all right.” He snaps, trying to hold onto his temper even though he suspects he won’t manage it, “I’m heartbroken over that stupid, self-sacrificing idiot all over again. Why did he have to be so bloody brave? Why couldn’t he have looked the other way and learned to live with what he knew? Why did he choose to leave me, Harry?”

“I think he hoped to save you. And he did, in a way. You made it through the war, moonbeam.”

“I’m so angry with him.”

“I know,” Harry whispers, shuffling even closer and tenderly drying the tears that are collecting at the corners of Severus’s reddening eyes. “Do you want to head over to The Leaky? I remember how you feel about getting plastered in public, but maybe that’s exactly what you need. I promise to look after you.”

“Drinking will only make this mess worse. We used to do that together, Regulus and I. We pooled our resources to buy our first ever bottle of Firewhiskey. Got utterly trashed in the back of the Quidditch showers and kissed each other senseless. Our first kiss, you know? It was horrible. We had no clue what we were doing, and we were so damned drunk— It was all teeth and spit and horny desperation.”

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I bet the last thing you want to do right now is listen politely to intimate stories about my dead ex.”

“It’s OK, moonbeam. It’s nice to hear about it. Honest. It explains what that old bottle of Firewhiskey was doing there. That’s the one, isn’t it? The same bottle the two of you bought together?”

“I can’t believe he kept it.”

“It’s obvious that he treasured you. He loved everything the two of you did together. He hung onto every little thing.”

“Regulus was a bit of a hoarder. Merlin! His school trunk was always full of trash because he wouldn’t throw anything away, no matter how insignificant.”

“Do you have any pictures of him? There are no portraits in Grimmauld Place. I checked.”

“Strutting around like a bratty supermodel was his brother’s vice, not Regulus’s. He didn’t like to pose for anything. One. I have one picture of him, and he’s not even the subject of the bloody thing. He’s just hovering in the corner.”

“Come home with me. Please.” Harry requests softly. He’s stepped right in front of Severus now and is holding onto his arms, rubbing them gently, as he stares up into his face with obvious concern. Severus’s shock at the invitation and his instinctive inclination to decline it must show on his face because the Gryffindor steps even closer, and whispers urgently against his neck, “There will be no hanky-panky. I swear. I don’t think you should be alone tonight, all right? I’ll drop you off at Malfoy’s if you’d rather. Or at McGonagall’s.”

“I don’t need to be mollycoddled. I’ve been looking after myself for a long time.”

“I’m not claiming you can’t look after yourself, you, idiot. I’m saying you don’t have to. You’re not alone anymore. What’s more, Regulus wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone. I’m here for you if you want me to be.”

“We shouldn’t have done this so soon. We shouldn’t have done this at all.”

“No. You needed closure. And you had a right to know how much he treasured you. I confess I’m mad with jealousy right now, but I’m also grateful that he loved you right. He adored you with everything he had, moonbeam, and you deserve that.”

“I don’t want to do this here.” Severus hisses, feeling out of sorts and overwhelmed. “I don’t want to do this at all.”

Harry presses closer, so much so that the tips of their shoes brush against each other. “Come home with me then. Let me cook you dinner. We’ll talk about whatever you want, or not talk at all. We can cuddle platonically on my ancient couch. It’s yellow and has the gaudiest purple flowers you’ll ever see. I got it second-hand from a muggle store and all my friends hate it. But it’s huge and bright and comfy. And I bet I’ll make you laugh.”

“Fine.” Severus acquiesces, and instantly feels weak and out of sorts for relinquishing control. Harry doesn’t judge him for it. Doesn’t rub it in. Doesn’t make him feel anything other than cherished when he clasps their hands together and, looking right into his eyes, asks permission to Side-Apparate him. Severus nods, exhausted, and in his very next blink finds himself far away from the steps of Gringotts. Harry’s sofa is indeed yellow. And as ugly as promised. Sadly, though, it completely fails to make Severus laugh.

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