Courting Disaster. Chapters 12.
Nov. 7th, 2013 06:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pekelekeTitle: Courting Disaster. 12.
Rating : NC-17.
Author: pekeleke
Word Count: 4238
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.
Summary: For once in his life Harry Potter has a plan. A carefully plotted plan to help him conquer the heart of an extremely reluctant Severus Snape, only... conquering a suspicious ex-spy isn't for the fainthearted and soon Harry finds himself -quite literally- courting disaster.
Courting Disaster.
Severus looks towards the shadowy corridor that leads to The Three Broomsticks' loo, where Harry seems to have become inexplicably lost, and wonders if he should stand up and go 'rescue' his companion from whatever perils are keeping him so obviously busy inside the gents way past the time when most reasonable explanations for the rather rude delay would have sounded plausible enough to be believed.
The Gryffindor excused himself to go 'water the herb garden' around half an hour ago and the longer he takes to return, the more difficult it is for Severus to fight off the awful suspicion that he may just have been abandoned to face the pub's patrons all by himself.
He's been aware of the unnatural quietude that seems to have dimmed the usually loud atmosphere of The Broomsticks since the moment they'd entered it together, but has been striving to ignore it as best as he can. He hasn't failed to notice the increasingly confused sideways looks he's been garnering with every passing second that he remains seating in solitary splendor at their table, stubbornly forcing himself to take small sips from his ever-chilled pint glass at regular intervals in order to portray the kind of unaffected self-confidence that he's really nowhere near feeling.
There's no doubt in his mind that his arrival here wouldn't have sparked quite so much unwanted attention if he hadn't entered the place in the company of The Boy Who Lived, himself. He'd been one of Rosmerta's regulars once and considers himself more than merely familiar with most of the people who are studying him now so intently.
He's been on friendly enough terms with plenty of them for years and yet, being on the receiving end of the puzzled looks that are converging upon him with barely disguised curiosity right now, he feels strangely disconnected from them all, like a foreigner who has just stumbled into the heart of a small and tightly-knit community.
He smiles briefly into his drink, amusing himself by trying to predict just how many surreptitious audio-enhancing spells his carefully applied Muffliato has been thwarting since he entered the place with the savior himself attached to his hip and allowed the man not only the liberty of guiding him across the crowded room by way of a casual hand firmly plastered to the small of his back, but also consented to sit with him at one of the most secluded tables the place has to offer in what must have looked for all intents and purposes like amiable companionship.
They'd already enjoyed a pleasant hour or so of lively conversation and chilled pints when Harry had suddenly taken a single look over his shoulder and proceeded to stand up in the next second, claiming an urgent need to go to the loo in such an abrupt manner that Severus had had no doubt that he was being fed a shameless lie.
Although they have been ordering their drinks in batches of two at a time, no one except their waitress has approached them so far and Severus knows Rosmerta well enough to realize that her careful avoidance of their table means she has absolutely no intention of coming around to greet them while they're together. It's patently obvious to him that she wants to catch one or the other alone and there is very little doubt in his mind as to the identity of her target of choice. She has no ties to Harry, after all.
He'd be willing to bet that she's managed to signal her desire to share a private word with him to his companion and, now that he's been sitting all alone for the better part of half an hour he's beginning to wonder what the hell is wrong with both Harry and Rosmerta. He can definitely understand the Gryffindor's willingness to grant their hostess the privacy she seems to have indicated to desire, yet Severus can not imagine why the seeker would allow her so much leeway after she's failed to approach the table for so long.
He's just made up his mind to stand up and go in search of his wayward companion when he spots Rosmerta finally approaching out of the corner of his eye. She's making a beeline for him that is managing to turn every eye in his direction and he's left with no other option but to straighten up his posture and lean back against the backrest of the pub's uncomfortable wooden chair in a gesture that he hopes looks both confident and vaguely welcoming.
She flashes him a small, tight-lipped smile that instantly allows him to understand that she's seen right through his bravado and he sighs with weary resignation. Rosmerta has always been able to read him like the book he's tried real hard never to become. She'd been unreasonably fond of him from the moment she first met him, going as far as to shelter him from the marauders' vicious bullying whenever they targeted him openly either at her pub or in the village itself.
She's also one of the very few people who has been in the position of witnessing more than her fair share of his double-sided dealings with both Death Eaters and members of the Order, yet she'd never to his knowledge betrayed his clandestine meetings with the other side to either of those groups.
He honestly believes that she drew her own conclusions about the true nature of his allegiances during both wars pretty early on and, whatever she saw him do or heard him proclaim out loud while in her pub, she'd placed enough faith in him to grant him the benefit of the doubt, allowing his actions to remain strictly his business through those dark and violent years.
By now he's fully conscious of the fact that her steadfast silence has probably saved his miserable hide twenty times over and, although neither of them has ever bothered to address the issue openly, he's always suspected that the childless pub owner thinks of him with the fondness of a loving -if emotionally detached- mother.
She'd been the only person of his acquaintance who'd remained stubbornly neutral about his not-so-secret role in Albus' death during the horrible year he'd been forced to play the role of Headmaster of Hogwarts, going as far as to squeeze his shoulder gently on one occasion in what had ended up being the only touch of comfort he'd received at a time when he'd found himself utterly abandoned by the friends and allies of a lifetime. Forced by Albus' ruthless machinations to embrace the toxic adulation offered so freely by his despicable foes.
“Severus... It's so nice to have you back, child. I was beginning to think you've forgotten all about us.” Rosmerta's cheerful voice greets him with genuine delight as soon as she's within earshot of his table, wrenching him away from his unpleasant thoughts. He acknowledges her words with a small polite smile and startles when she blatantly ignores the reserved coolness of his welcome and proceeds to plant a soft, motherly kiss on his reddening cheek.
“Madame!” He splutters, utterly flustered, prompting her to pat him soothingly on the shoulder.
“Don't look at me like that, dear. I've missed you too much to bother with your tiresome formality. You left England without saying goodbye to a large number of folks and, now that you're finally back, you rarely bother to visit. You can't blame me for wanting to take hold of my chances when they present themselves, can you?”
“I come by often enough. I bring flowers to Albus' grave on a regular basis.” He retorts stiffly, unwilling to be rude enough to ignore her friendly reproof, but not really in the mood to let her get away with treating him like an unruly teenager, either.
He's got nothing to hide, but he also doesn't owe anyone here his particular respect. He's finally left his former life behind. Has managed to abandon most of his old frustrations and pet peeves, allowing himself to grow stronger in the wake the emotional destruction they once caused him. He has fought a long, hard battle with himself to overcome the wounding feelings of betrayal that had crushed his heart with almost unendurable disappointment during the last year of the war, and now has absolutely no intention of allowing anyone to drag him down that dark and miserable road ever again.
“Albus is dead, Severus. You could talk to him from your fireside chair and his soul would still hear you. He's not the one who'd benefit the most from having you visit during one of your short-lived and often unpredictable forays into Hogwarts' grounds.
“Minerva tells me that you haven't set foot inside the castle yet. You haven't visited her, either. You haven't visited me, or Fillius, or even Poppy. I couldn't believe it when you failed to come to the reinforcement of the castle's wards ceremony. Your participation would have made the magic stronger, since your role as a former Headmaster of the school has tied your power to the grounds in a way that no one else save Minerva has experienced. You've been avoiding us all in a most painful manner, child.”
The mention of his former colleagues brings an uncomfortable knot of guilt to his increasingly constricted chest. He's aware that he hasn't dealt well with how easily they had been to convince of his supposed treachery. Their lack of faith in him, particularly Minerva's, had cut him very deeply. Too deeply for him to cope properly with it and move on.
Minnie had corralled him while he'd been stuck at St Mungo's and tried to force him into listening to her tearful apologies at a time when he'd been far too bitter to grant her any patience. He remembers having gone as far as to tell her he forgave her lack of faith, just to get rid of her. But the truth is that his trust on her affection for him had been so damaged already that returning to their former friendship had struck him as impossible.
The same can be said of the rest of his colleagues and the castle itself holds so many horrible memories for him that he's refused point blank to go back to it time and time again. He'd resigned from his Headmaster's position as soon as he'd been strong enough to withstand the magical ritual meant to dissolve his bond with the school.
He'd then proceeded to turn down both the opportunity to teach Potions and Defense, refusing to remain attached to the school as the non-docent, live-in Head of the Slytherin House and also rejecting the idea of becoming Minerva's deputy out of hand.
He'd gone as far as to donate most of his belongings to the school, just to avoid having to set foot on the place in order to collect whatever Draco hadn't been able to carry when he'd sent him to pack up his rooms and had left for the continent soon afterwards, unable to find comfort anywhere. Unable to cope with the idea that he'd decided to abandon the one place he'd called home for close to twenty years and had ended up with nowhere safe to hide.
“I left this life behind when the war ended, Rosmerta. Some things were way too damaged to survive a painful patch up work and I've learned the hard way not to bother tainting good memories with the bitterness of more unpleasant ones. That's no way to honor past friendships that broke through nobody's fault.”
She looks shattered as his words sink into her consciousness like poison-dipped darts. There's a heartbreaking fragility to her as she stands there, watching him through regret-filled eyes while her ample bosom heaves with obvious distress and a riot of brown curls waves back and forth around her lovey face as she shakes her head from left to right in crushed disappointment.
“You've always been too harsh with those who wrong you. I understand how betrayed you must have felt at the time. I really do, but—You worked really hard to make us hate you, Severus. You wanted us to believe the lie you told us. You were too good at playing the role you chose to play.”
“I didn't choose my role, Rosmerta. That was Albus' doing.”
Her face pales even further upon hearing his retort and she can't contain a pained little gasp from escaping her lush lips. Her hands tangle together atop the pristine white apron that she's wearing and her eyes contemplate him thoughtfully for a very long time.
“Do you really imagine that we don't know that by now? If we can forgive you for never confiding on us, why is it that you can not bring yourself to grant us the same favor?”
Severus lowers his gaze towards the table, both unable and unwilling to sit there and look right into her old eyes while she rakes up their painful past over and over.
“Let's not talk about the war, please. I'm trying to leave all that behind, where it belongs. I'm trying to survive the past and all its associated damage as best I can, Rosmerta. I have no desire to become trapped in a never-ending loop of bitter accusations that will never have the power to soothe anyone's grievances.”
“And this is how you're trying to do that? Do you honestly believe that running away to Europe and closing yourself off from everyone who may have welcomed the chance to apologize to you and work on rebuilding the bridges that once united you will bring you proper closure?”
“It has worked for me so far, Madame. I've got no intention of allowing you to guilt me into regretting my decision to walk away. I had no obligation to provide anyone with the chance to atone for their own failings.”
She snorts fiercely, clearly riled by his implacable refusal to accept the blame she's so willing to heap at his door. Her gaze rakes the bustling pub until she spots Harry's unmistakable form leaning casually against the bar with his powerful arms crossed tightly across his wide, athletic chest and his iconic green eyes firmly fixed upon them, appearing for all intent and purposes like a watchful mother hen forcing itself to remain away from its weak chick while it stumbles around the yard in search of sustenance, but obviously willing to step in and remove it from danger as soon as it catches sight of it.
“Why are you here with that boy, Severus? Why did you allow him to choose the most secluded table I've got and proceeded to sit with him like a friend or a lover? Do you have any idea of what your presence here, like this, seems to imply? Potter is... gay.”
“I'm fully aware of the brat's orientation. I don't live under a rock, you know?”
She looks at him searchingly, curious gaze darting shrewdly between Harry's watchful form and his own.
“Then you'll also know that he's pretty private about his romantic life and that, although he's been unattached for ages, he avoids going out with men on a one to one basis because he can't sneeze these days near another bloke without having The Prophet start planning out their wedding.”
Severus swallows uncomfortably and forces out a single, rebellious looking smile. His eyes look directly into hers as he offers her the truth in a tone gone flat with rigid defensiveness:
“I'm aware of that, too.”
She looks so startled then that he can't ignore the small knot of dread that is trying hard to settle in his gut as her eyes widen with shocked disbelief.
“Are you trying to tell me that Harry Potter and you are together? But that's madness, Severus! He's young enough to be your son. He used to be your student. He's...”
“No longer a schoolboy, but a man who finds me attractive. A man who has been bold enough to ask me for a date, Madame.”
“But you've despised each other for years.”
“We now have loved ones in common. We've grown closer to one another by necessity.” He points out quietly in response, shifting uncomfortably in his simple wooden chair and wondering why on Earth that goddamned brat isn't coming to his rescue. Can't he see that a well-timed interruption of this uncomfortable conversation would be most definitely welcome?
Rosmerta proceeds to read his thoughts out loud, picking on them with the same startling ease that she has always displayed whenever he's involved.
“There's no need for you to try summoning him with a pleading look, Severus. He'd be here in a flash if he thought I'm making you so uncomfortable out of vindictiveness. He's been watching us like a hawk since he came out of the gents. That boy doesn't know how to love lightly. No lost child ever does, and he's more famous, more stubborn and more powerful than most. He'd be dammed near impossible to resist if he ever sets his mind on being accepted.”
Severus frowns at the quiet warning she isn't bothering to veil in any way. He pulls his distracted gaze away from Harry's intent features and focuses it upwards and to the side instead, allowing his dark eyes to clash with the thoughtful expression that has appeared on her lovely features. Bristling at the obvious worry that her lively gaze displays and thoroughly resenting the delicately nuanced question she's failed to voice, but has managed to convey nevertheless.
“Are you seriously implying that he's... forced... me to come here with him? He's no Voldemort, Rosmerta.”
“He's no Albus Dumbledore, either. He won't love you like a mentor or a brother. He won't let you remain aloof, Severus. Harry Potter is an all or nothing sort of man. He's kept the same friends since childhood and dotes on them excessively. He'd be a rather intense lover: protective, loyal and faithful to the very ends of time. He'd be passionate and devoted beyond logic. He'd be precisely what you need, child, but he won't come into anyone's life without a price. He's way too famous for that.”
“His fame isn't his fault. It'd be beyond unfair to shun him because of it.”
“But you just told me that you want to find a way to live in peace, forget the war, leave the hurt it brought you behind and move beyond it. How are you ever going to achieve that by Harry Potter's side? He's the Savior himself, Severus. You won't be able to escape who he is and what he has achieved. You'll be condemning yourself to spend a lifetime glued to the biggest icon of the war there is, if you take him on.”
“I'll be condemning myself to certain loneliness if I don't. He brings me peace. He understands me like no one has ever done. He makes me smile whenever he's around and that's something I'm not prepared to walk away from at this point.”
“Do you love him, then? Because he does. I can see that much already and I bet it won't be long before someone calls Rita Skeeter and tells her exactly that.”
“I believe I could love him if I give myself the chance to try.”
Her eyes rake his homely features with obvious concern before she sighs out loud in resigned defeat.
“That may be a mistake on your part, dear. Are you definitely certain that allowing yourself to fall for Harry Potter is wise?”
Severus flinches visibly upon hearing her truly intrusive question and glares fiercely right at her. On one hand he's pitifully grateful for both her concerned honesty and the care she's putting into warning him against an association that could end up bringing him more grief than pleasure in the not so distant future, but he's also rather peeved at her unwarranted assumption that she's welcome to meddle into his private affairs.
“Why are you bothering to give me free advice so late in life? You allowed me to make far more dangerous choices at an age when I would have benefited a lot more from a concerned adult's guidance. Your worry for my future has arrived far too late to save me from disaster, Rosmerta, and by now I've already learned the art of choosing my own path without caring all that much for anyone's approval, let alone yours.”
She gasps in shocked reaction to his sharp response but doesn't slink away in shamed retreat. Her eyes flash with pride and humor only a second before she pats him on the shoulder with unmistakable fondness.
“You deserved far better guidance than you got. That's a truth that can't ever be denied. Albus, Minerva and I tried so very hard to give you what we thought you wanted at the time that we never had the presence of mind to try understanding what you needed the most. You have every right in the world to question the quality of our care for you but, please, do not ever doubt the sincerity of the affection that fueled it.
“I'm an old and foolish spinster, Severus. I have loved you like the son I never had but have always been too proud of my much boasted about independence to recognize the fact that I felt the need to mother anyone. I dared to cast you into a very important role in my life that I only ever satisfied to the point I felt comfortable with. I've cared for you like a son but never openly treated you like one and, for that, I'm sincerely sorry, child. Having to come to terms with the fact that we lost your respect and your friendship as soon as the end of the war allowed you the freedom to finally choose your own path has been hard on all of us.”
“So you want to make amends. Change your ways at long last and save me from a bad choice. You want to earn back the respect you think you lost when I walked away. Is that what this is about?”
Her smile is soft and loving as she looks into his eyes and dares to lift a trembling fingertip to caress the narrow line of his jaw.
“I want you to be happier than you've been so far, Severus. I want to live long enough to see you smile for real once again. I want to see you at peace with the world that surrounds you and have the certainty that you are finally content with whatever lot you've chosen to fight for. You deserve to be showered with the blessings of the Founders and I want to make sure that I don't fail you this time around by letting you choose unwisely.”
Severus swallows the huge lump that has lodged in his throat with difficulty. He feels uncomfortably moved by this woman's unexpected, but not altogether unwelcome, show of genuine affection. His gaze falls down to the table, focusing blindly on the still foamy content of his pint-glass and the motion forces her trembling palm to slide away from his face, pushing it into a gentle and unchallenged glide trough his unbound hair.
He takes a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm the wild pounding of his overwhelmed heart and, when he finally realizes that such a feat will be impossible, his instincts drive him to raise his head once again and seek Harry's emerald gaze across the smoke-filled room with a desperation that seems to fill his entire mind, body and soul like an almighty shout demanding help.
Their eyes meet without impediment across the distance separating them from one another and connect in such a way that speech seems, somehow, unnecessary. He allows his gaze to settle over that deep sea of bright emerald without knowing precisely what emotions he's broadcasting but not really caring about what they may reveal any longer. He's only conscious of his need to have the seeker come to him right now, in this very instance. He needs to feel the sense of peace and reassurance that he's begun to associate with Harry's presence. He needs the warmth that his seeker so easily brings into his life to help him fight the dreadful cold that his unpleasant conversation with the woman who is still standing so calmly right beside him has managed to awake within him.
As if pulled by a tightening invisible cord Harry pushes himself away from the bar and begins to walk towards him, never letting his gaze wander left nor right, never reducing his speed or allowing anyone to come directly between them, seemingly intent only on reaching his side as soon as his legs can manage the feat.
Severus watches the Gryffindor's graceful approach with exhilarated relief and his voice reflects the growing warmth that is beginning to spread like sunshine across his senses when he finally gathers enough presence of mind to pull himself away from the pub owner's touch in order to offer her his quiet answer:
“I appreciate your worry on my behalf, Rosmerta, but I don't believe it necessary at this point. Harry Potter may not be the wisest choice I've ever made, but I'm starting to believe that he can become the worthiest.”
( Chapter 11. )
( Chapter 13. )
(no subject)
Date: 2013-11-09 10:41 am (UTC)hugs,
myk
(no subject)
Date: 2013-11-11 06:51 pm (UTC)I actually agree with you on the point that Severus needed to have this sort of conversation with someone. Having Rosmerta try to discourage him from having a relationship with Harry definitely helped him see that he has started to care enough about the Gryffindor not only to try to defend him, but also to seek him out whenever he feels distressed. That's a huge step forwards for Severus, isn't it?
I'm thrilled that you are still enjoying this story of mine. Thank you, as always, for your wonderful and insightful review. You know how much I love chatting with you about the boys... :)
(no subject)
Date: 2013-11-10 06:05 am (UTC)and I'm not sure where Rosmerta is basing her idea about Harry from. Not that she's wrong, but before Harry was focusing his entire being on Severus I can't see him going out and falling hopelessly in love with someone - who then turns around to stab him in the back. I don't think he's ever been this intent on another person before. It's too much to draw out, too much passion, if he fell like this at every turn. This is his all or nothing shot, he'll never love anyone the way he loves Severus.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-11-11 07:01 pm (UTC)I think Rosmerta is basing her opinion of Harry on her knowledge of human nature, rather than his past relationships with anyone. She's a pub owner and, as such, must have heard enough in her lifetime to be able to come up with pretty accurate predictions about anyone she cares to analyze in detail.
It's true that Harry couldn't possibly pour so much passion an attention to detail into ALL of his relationships, and when one adds to that the fact that he finds it difficult to really 'connect' to people, out of fear that they might not be really seeing Harry, the man, but Harry Potter, the hero, then you get a pretty clear picture of the fact that yes: Severus is Harry's all or nothing. I'm pretty sure that he's never loved anybody else like this and, knowing him, chances are that he'll never try to do so either.
Thanks so much for keeping up with this story and letting me know your thoughts about it, SoLeo. Your wonderfully insightful review meant the world to me. :)