Chasing Moonbeams. Ch34.

[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 34.

 

Despite Severus’s fears to the contrary, his rather sudden realization that he is madly in love with Harry hasn’t turned him into a miserable bastard yet. He doesn’t feel particularly inclined to push the boy away or behave badly in his presence, so Harry is forced to acknowledge that Severus is a terrible human being and rescind his offer of affection. Severus often self-sabotages; uses unconscious tricks to ensure that he’ll never again have to endure the unbearable heartbreak he experienced when Regulus disappeared. He is obviously growing bolder when it comes to romance. Or perhaps he has more trust in Harry than he ever did in any of the potential long-time lovers he’d walked away from in the last twenty years. There are less than a handful of those. Severus has never been particularly popular.

Severus is carefully contemplating the frankly terrifying notion of confessing his feelings to the boy for about the fiftieth time this morning, when his Floo connection chimes insistently, letting him know the incoming call originates from a fireplace that is not on his authorized list of contacts. Severus frowns. Hardly anyone who is not already on that list ever bothers trying to contact him thus. Owl post is the preferred method of formal correspondence between wizards for a reason.

Closing the reference book he hasn’t managed to pay attention to since he first picked it up, Severus exits his office and walks towards the living room. Once there, he kneels carefully on his fireside rug and, wand at the ready, allows the one-way screening feature he spelled into his connection to open up enough for him to identify his caller. He is utterly shocked to discover that it’s none other than the Minister of Magic, which makes him clumsy in his casting as he accepts the call. Severus hasn’t spoken to Kingsley Shacklebolt in years. Even though they’d both belonged to the Order Of The Phoenix, Severus never warmed to the man, and he’s always assumed the feeling is mutual.

Severus’s shock translates into a thunderous scowl as he stares at Shacklebolt with the sort of confusion that usually makes him behave in that extra-snappy, impossible bastard way that never fails to irk everyone who interacts with him on a regular basis. “What the hell do you want?” Severus barks coldly, and his dark eyes narrow suspiciously when the other man proceeds to sigh like a long-suffering elder brother and mutters under his breath:

“Yep. Calling Severus Snape out of the blue was definitely shortsighted of you, Kingsley. You should have owled the cantankerous git first.”

“Are you seriously talking to yourself? In Public? Now I’m more horrified than ever by the idea that you’re our esteemed Minister, Shacklebolt.” Severus snarks, raising to his feet and walking towards his fireside chair. He doubts he’ll feel inclined to provide whatever aid the politician seeks from him after having witnessed the systematic ostracism his policies have forced Severus’s precious ex-students to endure, so he might as well sit comfortably for the harrowing conversation that awaits him.

Shacklebolt sighs loudly and rubs a hand through his face in open exasperation. “Let’s try this again, shall we? Good morning to you, Snape. May I be so bold as to request permission to enter your residence?”

Severus’s back becomes metal-pole rigid in response to that unexpected request. “Why would you demand such a thing?”

“Because I wish to talk to you?”

“We are already talking, Shacklebolt.”

“I’d rather we do it in private.”

“My Floo connection is as private as they come. I assure you.”

The Minister of Magic rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Merlin! I’ve forgotten how damned difficult you are, Snape. My office’s connection isn’t as private as yours. I’m a public figure, and these are my working hours. Anyone could walk into my office during our conversation and overhear it. I’d rather that doesn’t happen if it’s the same to you.”

Severus considers the man’s words for about half a minute before deciding that no, he will not welcome his war-time ally into his home. “I’m aware of the private conference rooms that line the third floor of the Ministry building, Shacklebolt. I will be amenable to meet you in one of them at your convenience. Or we could both Floo to Hogwarts. I doubt Minerva will begrudge us the use of her office for this rather secretive conversation you wish to have.”

“I was hoping to keep our meeting under wraps if you get what I mean,” Shacklebolt explains tightly, and every single one of Severus’s overdeveloped survival instincts twitches with alarm.

“I’m afraid my days of willingly attending clandestine meetings with politically powerful men are over, Minister.”

“I see. You’d refuse to meet with me even though I intend to return the broken pieces of your former wand to you?”

“And what, precisely, is that wand doing in your possession? Last I heard, it was part of an open investigation.”

“Gawain just closed the case. I offered to return your property to you since I have a proposition for you, Snape. There’s nothing untoward going on.”

“You. Have. A. Proposition. For. Me.” Severus enunciates those astonishing six words with cautious blandness. “Forgive me, but I find the very notion absurd.”

Shacklebolt rubs his face in utter exasperation once more. “Well, it isn’t. Or at least it shouldn’t sound as ludicrous as the fact that you dueled a flock of Trooping Fairies on your own and lived to tell the tale.”

Severus stiffens further. “Are you calling me a liar? Your precious Aurors extracted the memory of the attack while I was unconscious. I couldn’t have possibly tampered with it if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Nobody is implying anything, Snape. I’m just saying it’s a remarkable feat, that’s all. I’ve seen the memory first hand. It was shared with a select number of Senior Aurors and other high ranking officials within the Ministry. The general consensus is that you’re a very gifted duelist, and we’d like to offer you a docent position within the Auror and Unspeakable training programs. The level of dueling mastery you displayed in that memory is rare to find these days. We can not afford to lose it altogether. Current Aurors are hopelessly under-trained in Offensive Warfare Casting, and-

“Let me get this straight,” Severus interrupts him with typical rudeness, “You’re attempting to convince me to go back to teaching.”

“The salary is excellent, Snape. The facilities are state of the art and the-

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Shacklebolt splutters incredulously, turning slightly purple around the ears. It becomes immediately apparent to Severus that nobody has bothered to say no to his fellow Order member since the man became the minister.

“I said no, Shacklebolt. It’s a single syllable word. Not hard to understand at all.”

The heavy silence that follows feels colder than the Hogwarts’ dungeons in mid-winter. “May I ask why not?” Shacklebolt inquires stiffly, and Severus’s left eyebrow raises obnoxiously high.

“You may,” He replies equally frigidly and becomes honestly incapable of forcing himself to act like the better man he isn’t. Failing to take advantage of the positively delicious opening to irritate him further that this pompous arse has just handed him on a silver platter literally goes against Severus’s nature. He is well aware that he is a petty bastard, but that doesn’t make him any less inclined to give into his childish side when he is honestly convinced his opponent deserves it. Severus crosses one long leg atop the other and stares expectantly at his fireplace, uttering not a single word as his caller grows increasingly agitated on the other side of the flames.

“Well? Are you planning on answering me this side of the century, Snape?” Shacklebolt cracks within the first couple of minutes and Severus has to bite the inside of his bottom lip to avoid rolling his eyes with disappointment. Gryffindors! He can’t even fathom how such trigger-happy lot ever manages to make effective bargains.

“I have no obligation to do so, minister. Your ability to ask a question doesn’t automatically grant you the answer.”

“Oh. My. God! I hate you so much right now. Would it really kill you to be helpful?”

“And why the fuck should I?” Severus snaps. “The Ministry has never been ‘helpful’ to me.”

Shacklebolt rears back, apparently left speechless by his bitter accusation. Severus doesn’t really care what this pathetic excuse for a ‘just and progressive’ leader thinks of him. He is not dancing to whatever civil tune the man is aiming for when virtually every Slytherin out there has been on the receiving end of the post-war systematic discrimination this arsehole has failed to both denounce and resolve since he took office.

“I-I’m awfully sorry about that.”

“And I’m not interested in your apology. I don’t give a shit about your insincere feelings regarding the suffering of the hundreds of war-traumatized children whose future your bigoted administration has done its best to crush.”

“Oh, for the love of— Listen to me, Snape, we may not like one another, but we want the exact same thing. You want social justice for your precious Slytherins? I want that too. I want that for everyone.”

“But?”

“But I can’t get it done without Harry, and Harry— well. He is not precisely keen on becoming my successor. There’s a whole process to filling my shoes, you know? A-and— fuck! I can’t believe how badly this conversation is going.”

Severus frowns, dark gaze riveted to the suddenly pale features of the man currently looking at him with pleading desperation. Severus is beginning to suspect he is about to receive ‘the shovel talk’ from the current embodiment of the upper bloody echelons of the Ministry of Magic. “What is this call really about?” he demands, fingertips curled so tightly around his wand that his knuckles turn bright white.

Shacklebolt takes a deep breath and becomes gray with nerves as he visibly forces himself to reply: “Rumor has it that Harry Potter is in love with you.”

“Rumor also has it that I’m half-man, half-bat, Shacklebolt,” Severus replies dryly.

The minister chokes on thin air, apparently too shocked to hide his incredulous snort and making a bad job of covering it up. “That’s-er- not the same thing at all, Snape. We have reason to believe this particular rumor may be true.”

“We?”

“The Ministry in general, and the team working to ensure Harry makes it into office in particular. Our public relations team just spent the last two days burying a story that aims to out the two of you as an established couple.”

Severus stiffens from head to toes. “I see.”

“I don’t think you do. Harry is— he doesn’t love lightly.”

“Meaning what, precisely?”

“Meaning that I want to know what your intentions toward him are.”

“And how is that any of your business?” Severus growls.

“It’s my business because I’m his ultimate superior, and the man he’ll eventually replace. You have no right to shoulder your way into his life and ruin everything we’ve been trying to achieve for the sake of your own shortsighted goal.”

“And what, pray tell, is my goal?”

“The rehabilitation of your tainted reputation and, by association, the reputations of your former students.”

“Then why the hell am I still here, Shacklebolt? Wouldn’t you agree that I’ve already achieved my so-called goal?”

“Maybe you’ve gotten greedy. You’re Slytherin, Snape. Avarice goes with the territory.”

“And you’re a Gryffindor. Chronic stupidity runs rampant in your house.”

Shacklebolt shoots him such murderous glare that Severus’s wand arm twitches. He’ll hex the bastard six ways to Sunday if he so much as blinks at him the wrong way. Surprisingly, the minister lets the argument go, taking a deep breath and rubbing the bridge of his nose warily for about three minutes straight before seeking Severus’s gaze again. “What, exactly, are you saying? I need a clear answer, Snape.”

“Nothing. This is not a discussion I’m willing to have with you.” Severus explains flatly. “You’re taking liberties with regards to Potter’s private life that aren’t yours to take.”

“If it is true that Harry has fallen for you, he is not going to give you up. Surely you realize what’s at stake here.”

Severus can’t help but laugh, a strange mix of amusement and humiliation replacing his earlier anger. “Is that what the offer to become a teacher for the DMLE was about? You’re trying to bribe me away? I seem to recall the Auror Academy is somewhere near Newcastle.”

“The shit is about to hit the fan. It’s time for you to get out if you’re not playing for keeps. Denying the rumors of a romance between the two of you will be a piece of cake if you agree to play the game.”

“I’m not playing any games, yours or anybody else’s.”

The minister blinks at him, speechless. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“A-are you seriously telling me you plan to stick around?”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“For fuck’s sake, Snape, be sensible! What on Earth do you think you’ll get out of this, eh? That boy won’t settle for a short romance and an amicable break-up a few months down the line. You’ll have to bloody marry him, you, idiot!”

Severus sighs, idly wondering how it is possible to be so damned patronizing without choking to death on that humongous amount of hypocritical moral superiority. “I’m getting sick and tired of this conversation. Hand over the pieces of my former wand and get the fuck out of my fireplace, Shacklebolt.”

“Well, I’ve never-

“Now, if you please.”

“Fine!” The minister huffs and, extending his be-ringed hand past the flames, drops two very familiar pieces of wood on the hearthrug. Severus stares at them intently, swallows past the lump of grief and anger currently forming in the middle of his throat, and holds onto the base of his new wand for dear life. Whatever it takes, he won’t make the next move. He won’t betray his emotions. He won’t give a single inch.

“Think about what you’re doing very carefully, my friend.” Shacklebolt says in the end, “You’re about to become someone you may not want to be. Whoever Harry Potter falls in love with will face a great deal of public scrutiny. I’ve heard you aren't coping very well with your recent fame. How do you plan to cope with his?”

Severus looks Shacklebolt straight in the eye and offers him his best I’m-a-bastard smirk. “I am not your friend,” he says simply, and the other man has the decency to look chastised.

“I suppose I deserved that, but— I- I’m not your enemy, either, Snape. None of us are.” Shacklebolt explains quietly before taking a deep breath and continuing in a rush, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re such a bad match for Harry. You’re an experienced, cool-headed warrior. And you don’t know how to surrender. You’ll be more asset than disadvantage to him if you stick around.”

“Get your nose out of my business, minister.”

“Fine!” The man huffs and is already retreating when Severus decides it’d be wise to offer him a smidgen of an olive branch. They both want the same things, after all.

“Let me give you some advice before you leave, Shacklebolt: stop trying to herd Potter. That brat is never going to go where you want him to, anyway. If you insist on training a follower, you’ll never produce a leader.”

“That’s— surprisingly wise.”

Severus snorts but doesn’t respond further, and Shacklebolt stares at him in astonishment for a bit longer before ending the call. Severus remains sitting there, staring blindly at the broken pieces of his former wand while trying to figure out how long does he really have before his life, as he knows it, changes irrevocably. Shockingly, he is not overly concerned about the future. Albus used to say that choosing to fall in love is a bit like deciding to bathe in sunshine: a magical endeavor that can’t get off the ground unless you have faith in the outcome. Severus has never in his life been the bathing in sunshine sort, but he is willing to try it, just this once. He is going to stop dilly-dallying already and confess his feelings to Harry. He is going to give himself permission to become the crazy little moonbeam who dares to bathe in sunlight. Minerva is going to be so damned proud of him. Of that, at least, he is certain.


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Comments

[teryarel]

I don’t think you do. Harry is— he doesn’t love lightly.
Uhhh, that [insert appropriate swear word here]!
I can't rememeber exactly my thoughts here, but I know that I was incensed on Severus's behalf. Much. I usually like Shacklebolt and usually people depict or characterise him differently, so I was quite surprised by this version. And while I usually try to interpret such sentences in favour of a person, this time it was really clear to me that Shacklebolt in no way meant this as something nice. Ugh, I really disliked him for pressuring Severus and being a git!

He is going to give himself permission to become the crazy little moonbeam who dares to bathe in sunlight.
Aww, what a beautiful image! It feels so full of adventure, daring, and life. I love it. ^^

Minerva is going to be so damned proud of him.
He's such a sweat-heart. ;)

Wow, you surely surprised me with this chapter. What a turn-around! I'd never have expected this. Brilliantly done, dear pekeleke.

[pekeleke]

LOL. Yes, this particular version of Shacklebolt was a bit of a prejudiced prat, but I needed him to showcase the sort of attitude Severus might encounter in the future, especially among the ministry elite. I wanted this chapter to be one for serious reflection and exploration of what it’d mean for Severus to move on with his plans to stay with Harry. I wanted his final choice to be one that he’s thought about properly, a decision made carefully not only with his heart but also with his mind. :)

"Aww, what a beautiful image! It feels so full of adventure, daring, and life. I love it. ^^" Yes, those are the exact emotions that I wanted to attach to the image of Severus as a little, daring, moonbeam. So far, you are the first person to mention that particular line, which I, personally, think pretty much summarises the entire fic. :)

I'm thrilled to hear that this update managed to surprise you, teryarel. Thanks, as always, for taking the time to both read and review another chapter of this story. Your kind and lovely comment left me grinning from ear to ear. :)

[teryarel]

So far, you are the first person to mention that particular line, which I, personally, think pretty much summarises the entire fic. :)
But I have to say that the summary you used for the fic is much more of an eye-catcher than this one, although I whole-heartedly agree with you. :D

Hmm, this was the second to last chapter... I'm of a mind to not read the next/last one until tomorrow... Yeah, I'll do that. I'll keep it for tomorrow. It's the last one, after all. So, who's patient now? ;)