Bagging Harry Potter.

[pekeleke]

Title: Bagging Harry Potter.
Author: pekeleke
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Challenge: Written in celebration of Valentine's day.
Rating: T
Length: 1225
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. I make no profit from writing fanfiction.
Summary: Minerva's brown gaze softens, and her encouraging smile turns gentle, motherly. She leans forward in her chair and, reaching out to grasp his right hand with both of hers, squeezes his fingers reassuringly, "You, Severus Snape, have completely captivated Harry Potter."
 

Bagging Harry Potter.

Minerva hums smugly when Severus tells her that Potter has lost his marbles, offering no hint whatsoever of either surprise or outrage at the preposterous idea of a-a liaison between the two of them.

"I knew it!" She crows, "He's been fluttering those long eyelashes of his your way for months. Don't get me wrong, you've built a lovely friendship and all. Still, a romantic relationship will be more fulfilling.”

“Minerva-

“Not to boast of my Gryffindors or anything, but my house happens to produce the Wizarding World's greatest catches in the prospective-groom department. And you, my friend, just bagged yourself the greatest catch of all."

The muscle at the side of Severus's clean-shaven jaw starts twitching. An increasingly strong feeling of warmth climbs up his neck, warning him about the state of his usually pale features. They've probably acquired the most unsightly rose-colored blotches in the whole of England, making him look uglier than ever. "I can not 'bag' him."

"Don't be obtuse. You've already bagged him. Now all you've got to do is attend tonight's dinner date and— well, wow him with your passionate ways."

Severus's unsightly skin blotches multiply as he gapes in disbelief, "Wow him with my— Are you out of your mind? Potter will run all the way back to London at breakneck speed if I so much as dare to look his way."

"Don't be ridiculous," She scoffs, "The two of you have been joined at the hip since he found you placing flowers on his parents' grave. You must have looked at him plenty since All Hallows Eve, Severus. And Harry is still here."

"I— we're just friends."

"Pft! Harry asked you out to dinner at Le Cinq. On Valentine's day, no less."

"I mentioned I've always wanted to dine there the last time he took me to Paris. He may be trying to fulfill my wish in a platonic way. Potter wouldn't have thought twice about making such an expensive booking, and it's entirely possible that he is unaware of the significance of today's date."

Minerva laughs. "In this castle? There isn't a single corridor that isn't covered in charmed paper hearts, Severus. The house-elves turned pink every glass of pumpkin juice served at lunchtime. The level of bad poetry recited aloud between classes is so high that one-third of the school's portrait inhabitants are currently hiding in the room of requirement."

"That doesn't mean Potter knows-

"Of course he does! Harry received about twenty marriage proposals during the breakfast meal alone. And lunch wasn't any better."

"There you have it, then," Severus points out, earning himself Minerva's frankly terrifying narrowed look of suspicion.

"I'm not following your logic," Minerva says crisply, and it takes every ounce of Severus' self-control to avoid wriggling in his chair when she demands with a warning tone, "What, precisely, are you implying?"

"I'm just saying that Potter has— options."

Minerva's sharp gaze narrows further, "Does he?"

"Yes. And even the worst of those options is better than me," Severus points out, refusing to be cowed.

"Says who, you?" Minerva challenges, stern disapproval dripping from every syllable, "I dare say Harry's opinion is the one that matters when it comes to his love life."

"Yes, of course, but-

"Well then. He is clearly smitten with you."

"Smitten?" Severus chokes on thin air, "Don't be ridiculous. Have you seen him? He is— Potter's got that stupid hair. And that sunny smile. Those irresistible dimples. A-and his biceps. Merlin! The way that man fills his robes, Minerva. Potter is too gorgeous for the likes of me."

"So you are attracted to him. I knew it!" Minerva gloats, and her smug grin threatens to outshine the weak February sunlight filtering in through the windows.

"That's neither here nor there."

"Of course it is."

"No, it isn't. My crush on Potter is hopeless. The Auror Department only lent him to Hogwarts until a proper Defense professor can replace poor old Frederickson. Potter would be gone already if you'd managed to secure a decent substitute."

"Merlin, you're thick. I haven't been looking for a replacement since Halloween. The two of you started growing closer, so-

"You can't simply stop looking for a replacement in an effort to play matchmaker, Minerva. I don't know why Potter keeps seeking me out, but-

"Denial suits you ill, my friend. And your days of playing that game are coming to a close. Harry intends to stay on the job."

Severus stills from head to toes. "I-I didn't know that. How—W-why hasn't he told me?"

"Maybe he means to tell you tonight. During your romantic Valentine's day dinner. It's a significant piece of news, isn't it? He's choosing to stay here, with you, instead of going back to the Aurors."

There's a joyful, bubbly feeling trying to take over the pit of Severus' stomach despite his reluctance to let himself feel it. Severus isn't a great fan of hope. He is not sure how clearly those thoughts reflect on his features, but his expression must be revealing enough to tell his long-time friend how close he is to trusting Harry Potter with his heart. Minerva's brown gaze softens, and her encouraging smile turns gentle, motherly. She leans forward in her chair and, reaching out to grasp his right hand with both of hers, squeezes his fingers reassuringly. "You, Severus Snape, have completely captivated Harry Potter."

Severus swallows thickly, "A-are you sure?"

Her hands squeeze his fingers once again, and the grin she sends his way is so misty-eyed and oh-so-tender that Severus feels like a fragile crystal vase cradled safely between her competent palms. At this moment, Severus trusts her with all his heart. He believes, deep in his bones, that she will not lead him astray. "Of course I'm sure, my boy," Minerva says softly, "Harry hosted you for Christmas and arranged an international portkey for the purpose of dining and wining you in Paris for your birthday. Those aren't the actions of a mere friend, Severus. That man fancies the pants off you. Harry has been wooing you for ages, and he'll up the ante tonight. There's no subtlety whatsoever on a Valentine's day date."

Severus holds onto her hands for dear life. His throat feels too tight to form words. His neck is hot enough to fry an egg on it, and his face must be a bright shade of purple instead of red by now. Severus is almost certain he is about half a blink away from fainting, and his mind keeps running in circles around the fact that Minerva is right. It is true. Pott-er- Harry has been hovering around him for months now. They mark homework together. They go down to Rosmerta's together. They even patrol the corridors as a team and eat every meal side by side. They-

They. Are. Together.

"Oh!" Severus says, feeling thoroughly stupid and dizzy and elated all at once.

Minerva's gaze softens further, and her grin shines with pride even as it becomes just a little more wobbly 'round the edges. She is kind enough to refrain from teasing him for his shameful incompetence in recognizing the bloody obvious: Harry Potter hasn't lost his marbles. When it comes to prospective romantic partners, Harry is indeed the greatest catch of all. And he, Severus Snape, has most certainly bagged him.