The Venus Fly Trap - Part 1
Jun. 6th, 2010 03:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexcasterTitle: The Venus Fly Trap
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alexcaster
Fest: Snarry-A-Thon
Other pairings/threesome: past Severus/Lucius and Severus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~18,000
Warning(s): Brief mention of past abuse
Prompt:355 - Minerva enters Severus in the new Wizard bachelor auction
Summary: When Harry bids on Severus in the new Wizard bachelor auction to benefit the children of St Mungo’s, can he convince Severus to not only enjoy the date but also go on a second one with him?
A/N: Thanks to my beta and the wonderful mods!
The streets were alive with the sound of…wolf whistles? Harry could not help but turn back towards the large crowd that had gathered in front of the Three Broomsticks. Usually he avoided crowds like he would the Rumpler’s Plague, but it was hard to resist when he wasn’t at the center of all the whooping and hollering.
A makeshift stage had been set up in front of the Three Broomsticks. Upon it, Madam Rosmerta was shouting increasing monetary increments at the crowd of onlookers. Standing next to her was a very pleased looking Gerald Thornberry, second string Chaser for the Canons.
“We’ve got 120 Galleons!” Madam Rosmerta shouted. “Come on you sorry sods, the lad’s a professional Quidditch player for Merlin’s sake! Think of the children!”
“130!” a shout came from the crowd.
“That’s more like it!” Madam Rosmerta grinned in approval. Harry shook his head at the old battle ax with a fond smile. She was still going as tough as ever he had remembered her. In fact, he was sure that half of the whistles were for her.
“Excuse me, sir,” Harry said politely as he nudged the bloke next to him. “Do you know what’s going on?”
The man turned around, beaming in surprise when he spotted who exactly had nudged him. “Harry!” Seamus clapped Harry on the shoulder as he pulled his friend in next to him to join in the merrymaking.
“Seamus,” Harry smiled as he rubbed his shoulder. Seamus always was something of a personal disaster. Didn’t know his own strength; the great sod. “I didn’t recognize you.”
Seamus nodded, his great long beard swaying as he did so. “Course you wouldn’t,” Seamus beamed, “I’m undercover right now actually. Don’t tell anyone, I’m not even supposed to be here. Couldn’t miss out on this though could I?”
Harry glanced back towards the stage. Apparently the Canons Chaser had been bought already because another man had taken his place. “What exactly is this anyway?”
“I’d almost forgotten you haven’t been here,” Seamus said with a grin. “This is the Bachelor Auction for the children of St Mungo’s.”
So that’s what Rosmerta had meant about the children. Well, that was certainly a good enough cause. Harry often donated a few times a year to St Mungo’s himself. Now that he wasn’t the poor runt living under the cupboard, he could afford such excesses.
“I’d take that one home if I could,” Seamus nodded approvingly at the man that had just taken the stage. Harry had to agree, the man was indeed quite the catch. It seemed the crowd agreed with them as well. A strong, square jaw, piercing eyes, nice biceps and a head of luscious, chestnut colored hair; yup, Harry could definitely see the appeal.
The crowd groaned in displeasure as a voice from the crowd called out 200 Galleons and the very suave gentleman was promptly bought and sold. Well, it was no skin off of Harry’s back. It wasn’t like he was going to put in a bid. The man was simply too good looking, and Harry was completely out of practice with the whole dating business. He would just make a fool of himself.
“Alright ladies and gents,” Madame Rosmerta’s voice rang out into the crowd. “We have here a war hero, a man more intelligent than time, and one blimey good catch!”
The crowd oohed and ahhed at the description, wondering who indeed the mystery man was.
“He’s got wit sharper than the most powerful cutting hex, a tongue skilled like the best of duelers, and a presence that will surely make you shiver in anticipation.” The crowd, Harry included, seemed to wait with bated breath. “You miserable little perverts, I present to you for a single evening of dating enjoyment, our bachelor number 13, Severus Snape!”
Crickets could be heard as the very imposing and very much displeased looking Severus Snape walked out onto the stage. The man was just as Harry had remembered; tall, dark, and intimidating. Harry gulped and discreetly adjusted himself under his robes.
Funny how he used to think Snape was such an ugly git when he was still a student at Hogwarts. Well, to be honest, Snape couldn’t exactly be considered a handsome man, but he was by no means ugly. His nose was a bit large and the permanent scowl on his face wasn’t helping issues any, but overall the man didn’t look bad. He was…an acquired taste. Yes, that’s what Snape was. He was an acquired taste, and Harry had most definitely acquired it.
“Blimey…” Seamus whispered next to Harry. “I can’t believe it. Do you think he lost a bet?”
“I don’t know,” Harry whispered back. He didn’t exactly know why they were whispering, but it was so awfully quiet there that it didn’t feel right to talk in anything louder than a whisper. “He doesn’t look too happy to be here.”
“I wouldn’t be either mate,” Seamus laughed, “if I had to stand up there and be humiliated when no one bids for me.”
“Surely someone’s going to bid for him.” Harry looked about the crowd, which had taken on an eerily quiet and somber mood, as if they were expecting the man on stage to hex them at any moment. Well, given that it was Snape on stage, that wasn’t too far off of a possibility.
“Well,” Madame Rosmerta said into the awkwardly quiet air, “Let’s begin the bidding with the customary 20 galleons. Remember folks, this is for the children of St Mungo’s. It’s a damn good cause you lazy sods.”
“Alright, now do I have 20 galleons?” She looked about the crowd, which was as still as death and just as grey. “20 galleons anyone?”
Harry watched as Snape stood on the stage, his face a blank mask of disdain. If the man was upset that no one was bidding for him, then he certainly wasn’t showing it. The look of displeasure on his face was no indication since that was the look he seemed to wear daily. The only reason Harry could even identify Snape’s discomfort was by the way the man’s fingers were oddly rigid at his side. After fighting a war with the man, Harry had learned to see the little things about Severus Snape that so many others usually missed.
Harry waited three more seconds, and when still no one spoke up to bid a measly 20 galleon for Snape, who was probably humiliated up on the stage, Harry raised his hand in the air.
“300 galleons!” he shouted into the shocked crowd.
Everyone turned and looked at him. Seamus’ mouth was hanging open wide enough for a Quaffle to sail through and a collective gasp could be heard from the crowd. Even Snape himself allowed a moment of shock to manifest itself in his enlarged eyes for a split second. Madame Rosmerta stood blinking on the stage. No one, not even the athletes who were generally the most loved, had gotten that high a bidding price.
Shaking herself from her stunned gaping, Madame Rosmerta banged her little hammer against the door of her pub and announced, “Sold, to Harry Potter!”
Harry sat at one of the back tables in the Three Broomsticks nursing a butterbeer. The Bachelor Auction had ended about half an hour ago, and now all those who had bid for someone and got them were waiting with their galleons in hand. Nearly everyone had left already after giving their donations and talking to their bought bachelors about the details of their date.
Sitting there by himself, Harry wondered if maybe he was secretly suicidal. Snape was definitely going to kill him. Sure, Harry had kind of fallen madly in love with the man during the time they spent fighting together at the end of the war, but that didn’t mean that Snape reciprocated his feelings. In fact, Harry was quite positively sure that Snape only tolerated him, and even then, barely.
When he had seen Snape standing up there though, it had been too good of a chance to pass by. This might literally be the only chance Harry had of getting a date with Severus Snape, the most feared potions master in all the land. If he were to ask the ornery man out under normal circumstances…well, Harry just plain didn’t like thinking about the many different curses that Snape would have surely used on him.
A rumbling ‘ahem’ drew Harry from his morbid thoughts. When he looked up, none other than Severus Snape, all intimidation and billowing robes, was standing over him. “May I?” Snape gestured towards the chair in front of Harry.
Harry stood up as was polite and gestured for Snape to sit. The man looked as he always did, a scowl permanently plastered on his face and his eyes full of derision. Harry thought he might pop a boner. He loved dark, brooding men almost to a masochistic level. The fact that it was a dark, brooding man he happened to be head over heels for only made it worse. It was, in fact, quite disturbing.
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Snape glared at him with a look of almost pure hatred as he sat down. Harry felt himself go limp underneath that penetrating gaze. He liked brooding men, but not so much when they were looking at him like he was worse than the dirt off their boots.
“Why?” was the only word that Snape spoke.
Harry tilted his head to the side. He didn’t exactly understand the question. He never was quite good with such vague and open situations. He had found that those situations were never to be taken at face value, especially when you were dealing with Slytherin. “Pardon?” Harry asked.
“Why Potter,” Snape nearly growled. “Did you do it to humiliate me? Is that it? Going to have your revenge now that you’ve secured me for a date?” Snape sneered the last word like it had personally offended him.
Harry tried not to flinch at Snape’s complete disdain of the word. If Snape couldn’t even stand the word ‘date’, how was Harry ever going to get him to go on one and actually enjoy it enough for there to be a second one? And he really would like for there to be a second one too.
“I didn’t do it to humiliate you, professor,” Harry quickly answered. “Trust me, that is the last thing on my mind. And revenge? Revenge on what? The number of times you saved my arse, or the number of times you personally suffered by doing so?”
Snape stared at Harry suspiciously, and granted, it was pretty justified. They hadn’t exactly forged any lasting friendship, though Harry would have liked for them to. Snape just wasn’t the kind of person you approached easily and made friends with. The man’s personal shields were like a castle fortress. Harry had never met someone that guarded. Even after all the time they had spent with one another during the war and all the battles that they had been through, Harry still couldn’t say that he really knew the other man.
“You can’t honestly expect you just want a date.”
Once again, Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt at how much Snape seemed to loathe the notion of dating him. He wasn’t a bad catch, not really. He wasn’t the best looking bloke out there but he liked to think he had at least a bit of depth that would be somewhat appealing. “Honestly, professor, I didn’t do it out of pity or spite or any rubbish like that. Is it so hard to believe that I might just want to take you out on a date?”
Harry glanced hopefully at Snape. The man looked confused, if not a little annoyed.
“Why?” was all that Snape responded with once again.
Harry took a deep breath. “Well,” he began, “for one thing I’ve always thought you were quite fetching, and I don’t know, I guess I’d just like to get to know you better.”
“Fetching, Potter?” Snape sneered and the smile that spread across his face was chilling. “Is that what you think now? Really, you must tell me who came up with this ridiculous plan of yours. Who put you up to it, huh? Weasley? Granger? No, those two aren’t devious enough for something like this. Let me guess, it was those two imbecilic twins. They put you up to it, didn’t they?”
The tracks Snape’s mind could run around astounded Harry. Did the man really think he’d something like this maliciously? Snape really needed to learn how to take a compliment. “No one put me up to anything. I haven’t even seen any of the Weasleys ever since I got back from Romania. I can tell you’re obviously not going to believe anything I say, so how about you let me prove my intentions by taking you out on that date?”
“I’d really like to,” Harry added.
“Well, it doesn’t matter what I like, does it?” Snape challenged. “I’m bound to this date by your doing, so I suppose I’ll just have to suffer through it.”
Harry winced. He really wasn’t that bad of a date that someone would have to suffer through his company, was he? Well, he supposed that Snape was always going to have such a prickly disposition. Still, it wasn’t pleasant to be on the receiving end of it. “I promise I’ll try and make the horrendous ordeal bearable for you.” Humor always helped. At least that was what Charlie had told him, and Charlie definitely went on a lot more dates than he did.
Snape snarled. Harry winced. Perhaps Charlie’s rugged good looks had more to do with his success.
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” said Snape before he seemed to collect himself and that mask of scowling indifference adorned his face again. “Just tell me the time and place, Potter, and let’s get this over with.”
This was definitely not turning out as he had hoped. He knew it was too much to ask that the other man reciprocate his feelings, but he honestly didn’t think his presence would be this much of a nuisance. It was funny how the whole Wizarding world can want you, while the one person you wanted didn’t. “How about we start with lunch at Frederick’s, tomorrow at 11? Then we can just go from there.” He knew that that was bloody early for a date to start, but since he only had Snape for the maximum of 24 hours, he might as well take advantage of it right? After all, Harry had a feeling it would take that long to convince the other man that he had no ulterior motives.
Severus’ eyes bulged as he stared angrily at Potter. So the boy was going to draw this torture out as long as possible, eh? He always knew Potter was an impertinent little brat who always got what he wanted, but this was a new low. Damn Minerva for entering him into this bloody auction!
“Fine!” he growled. It wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. The terms of the contract they entered when Potter had bought his bid was for any amount of time under 24 hours. Barring disfigurement, death, and the other less than savory connotations of a sexual nature, Potter could pretty much do whatever he wanted with Severus for 24 hours. Technically the conditions were that of a date, but knowing Potter and the hatred that had run so deeply for all those years between the two of them, a date was a highly unlikely turn of events. For all Severus knew, Potter would probably demand that he clean his floors or some other equally demeaning task and he’d still have to do it.
Severus supposed he should look on the bright side. At least Potter couldn’t bugger him senseless. Not that he thought Potter would even be in the slightest bit attracted to him. No, he had heard people’s opinions about his appearance for far too long to believe something as delusional as that. Severus shuddered at the implication of what he so narrowly had escaped. He didn’t think he could take it if Potter had free reign of his body in that manner.
“I’ll be there,” he fairly snarled. He would have to fulfill the binding contract, but that didn’t mean he had to be pleasant about it. A small voice inside his head told him that Potter might go easier on him if he acted more pleasantly, but Severus just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He hated being put into this position where his fate was in the hands of another man again. He had done it for the better part of his adult life under the reign of Voldemort, and he really wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow. On the bright side, if one could call it a bright side at least, he had suffered through the Cruciatus and the gratuitous use of his body. Surely he could suffer through 24 hours of whatever humiliation Potter could dream up, right?
With one last glare at the brat, Severus pushed back his chair and left. He didn’t bother to turn around when Potter called out to him as he walked away. He was still a free man, at least until 11 tomorrow, and he would be damned if he started obeying Potter now.
After a very hot shower in which Severus proceeded to hurl his body cleansing potions vials against the wall, Severus still couldn’t sleep. He had been lying there, stewing in his anger and annoyance at not being able to control the situation for the last three hours and it was now nearly two in the morning. He doubted he would get any real sleep tonight but he had to try. If Potter wanted to keep him up for 24 hours shining his boots then he highly doubted that he’d be able to make it without a Pepper Up potion, which he was sure Potter wouldn’t be kind enough to provide.
As he lay there, he cursed Minerva for her meddlesome nature. There were plenty of other single professors she could have entered into the auction on behalf of Hogwarts. There were plenty of better looking professors. He knew she didn’t do it to humiliate him; but still, it had nonetheless been humiliating to stand up there. She thought that he needed to get out more, that socializing would do him well, but he knew better than she did what people thought of him. The humiliation of standing up there and having everyone gape and no one bid on him rubbed him sorely, but having Potter take up his bid was even worse. For all the grief he had given Potter over the years, Severus never actually thought Potter was much like his father. Perhaps he was wrong after all.
Something like this, bidding on your enemy so that you could have them at your beck and call, to humiliate whenever you pleased, was something that reeked of Black and the elder Potter. Thinking about the two of them and how they had twisted him around their little fingers, wound him up and insulted him at every turn, did nothing to soothe Severus’ temper.
No matter, he had survived worse and he would surely survive this. His ego might not come out unscathed and perhaps even his body and mind as well, but he would survive it. After all, it was just 24 hours right? What could Potter possibly do in 24 hours that would be that bad?
Severus shook his head. That thought only brought to his mind all the different ways Potter could use and belittle him. No, he needed to stop with this foolishness. This wasn’t getting him anywhere, and it was already 3. He needed sleep. Now if only it would come to him.
Harry tossed and turned in bed. He had been going at this for an hour and yet he still couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t had insomnia ever since the war was over and Voldemort had died. He just couldn’t get the look of fury in Snape’s eyes out of his mind. The man was sincerely displeased with the notion of having to date him. The thought was upsetting. He wished he could just say never mind, I didn’t mean it, you don’t have to go out with me, but with the binding contract they entered when he bid on Severus, even that wasn’t possible.
And even if it were possible, he really didn’t want to, not really. He wanted to take Snape out on a date, dazzle him with his witty repartee, and then make the other man fall madly in love with him. He knew that it wasn’t at all possible, and that the closest he could get might be getting the man to tolerate his attentions for a few hours. Well, as near to 24 hours as he can get, if he were to be honest. This was going to be his only chance with the man, and he really needed all the time he could get. He knew he was just setting himself up for heartbreak, but when you get the chance to go out with the person you’ve liked for so long, it just wasn’t something that you could pass up.
He knew it was stupid, and that Snape might actually end up hating him more after this, but he couldn’t help but think that it might be worth it if he got to spend a day with the man. He wasn’t even after sex. No, that was definitely not even a point that crossed his mind. He just wanted to be near the man, to spend time with him, to have Snape’s eyes on him for once.
Harry let out a mighty yell of frustration as he flailed around and upset his bedding. He was, undoubtedly, screwed. It was always hard to like someone who had absolutely no interest in you, but it was doubly hard when that man was Severus Snape.
Harry could pinpoint when it had happened; when he had fallen for Snape. It was after he had left Hogwarts already, and they were in the middle of the war. Snape had lost his cover and had paid for it quite dearly. Harry could never quite forgive himself for what the other man had gone through in order to protect him.
It was late September, and he had been careless enough to be captured during one of the Order raids on Lestrange’s property. It was sheer foolishness on his part. They had come up with nothing but an empty mansion and he had let himself get lulled into a false sense of security. It was his own fault that Lestrange had been able to capture him so easily. They had taken him to Voldemort and after a few hours of playing Potter in the middle with them flinging curses and hexes at him, they had thrown him into the dungeons. He had thought for sure that he was done for, that he had lost the war for them all just because of one moment of carelessness.
He had never felt as bad as he did then, and his feelings of self loathing and regret were only intensified when they sent the Dementors in to feed on him. There was nothing he could do, and he could scarcely defend himself without his wand. He had thought that he would go crazy from the sounds of his mother’s screams and the utter helplessness of his situation, but then in the bleakness of night, even as the Dementors continued to feed on him, Snape had come to his rescue.
It happened faster than he could even comprehend, and the next thing he knew a coin was getting shoved into his hand and he was wretched bodily from the dungeon. When he landed back at headquarters, he could barely breathe and to his shame, he had passed out. When he woke up a day later, the reality of the situation hit him. Snape had saved him. Snape had sacrificed himself for Harry yet again.
He didn’t even need to ask in order to know what had happened. Everyone’s grim faces told him all he needed to know. Snape hadn’t made it back with him. Of this he was sure. The portkeys they were all given worked on only one person at a time in an effort to prevent an enemy tagging along into their secured hideouts. If he was safe and sound here, then it could only mean that Snape was still there in that dungeon.
It wasn’t until three days later did the wards on their headquarters sound. What they found when they came into the streets outside of Grimmauld place with their wands raised and ready to attack turned Harry’s stomach. To this day, it still turned his stomach when he thought of the state that Severus had been in.
He didn’t know how the man had survived, or how he had managed to escape, but Snape had only made it as far as the street before he passed out in a bloody lump. They had quickly gotten him inside and healed him as best they could, but Snape’s injuries were so severe that it had taken him over a month to fully heal. Harry had sat at his bedside through the worst of it, and only when Snape was cognizant enough to not tolerate his presence anymore did Harry leave his side. Even then, Harry had set up in front of Snape’s door. He knew the other man was safe now, but he couldn’t help it. This was the only thing he could do for the man.
Snape had never really told them what he had gone through, all the tortures he must have endured, but from the tears in Madam Pomfrey’s eyes every time she came to check up on him, Harry knew that it must have been a horrendous experience. That month that Snape had spent healing in bed was one of the worst times of Harry’s life. He wanted to go in there and beg for forgiveness, prostrate himself even, to the man that had taken all of this hurt in order to save him. But, he couldn’t. Snape simply didn’t allow it, and the look in Snape’s eyes every time Harry was within eyesight told Harry that Snape thought him nothing more than a useless imbecile who air was wasted upon.
He deserved it though. He didn’t contest that fact. It just hurt him more than he could describe to hear Snape’s muffled sobs at night and not be able to do anything about it but sit outside of his door. Severus only ever cried at night. During the day, he was his usual ornery self and he made no mention of what he had gone through and was currently going through, but in the dead of night when everyone was sleeping, Snape would cry and Harry could hear it through the thick door. Harry had fallen in love with that Snape that was too stubborn and prideful to let anyone know his sufferings, and it pained him every time he couldn’t prevent Snape from coming to harm.
There were so many things that he wanted to take back, so many hurtful things that he had said about Snape in the past. The man had every right to hate him. Snape had spent all his time and efforts trying to keep Harry alive, and yet Harry had only ever repaid him with suspicion and doubt and cruelty. As a child, he had hated Snape with such a passion, but now that he was older he could appreciate how much the man had done for him and it made him feel like an even bigger arse.
He had been so callous, so hurtful, in his youth, that he didn’t think there was anything he could do to make up for it. This was going to be his only chance to show Snape that he was more than just a selfish and ungrateful brat. He wanted to show Snape that he loved him, and that he in turn deserved if not a fondness, than at least tolerance. And weird as it sounded, he really did love Snape.
He’d never held the other man or even touched him, but Harry loved him nonetheless. He knew his love was selfish though, and that Snape would never reciprocate his feelings, but he couldn’t help what he felt. He had never met anyone as self sacrificing as Snape, and someone so guarded and smart and brave and loyal and all the wonderful things that the man was. He loved the stubborn git, and tomorrow was the only chance he was ever going to have of showing it. It was only 24 hours, but Harry would make the most of it. Perhaps then he could finally let go of such a painfully idiotic crush on a man he really didn’t deserve to have.
Severus stared at himself in the mirror. He knew he was a miserable looking bastard but his blasted mirror kept insisting on taunting him. He knew that all mirrors were like that, so there was no real reason to get a new one, but this was really getting old.
“Darling, I’m telling you, you look divine.”
“Shut it,” Severus sighed. “Not this morning.”
“I’m serious honey, you’re a catch! Everybody loves the dark brooding type. You just have to give it a chance.”
“Can’t you please, for the love of Merlin, just shut up and serve your purpose?”
“My sole purpose for existence is to see you happy. I’ve spent the last twenty years watching you brood and be miserable. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy?”
“Not really,” Severus answered. He turned away from the mirror, grabbing his cloak from the hook near the door. He didn’t want to have this conversation, especially with a mirror. He had a date after all.
Severus sneered at the label. A date. It really was a laughable concept.
Harry had spent the morning taming his hair in vain. He had tried all the potions and spells there were, but his hair simply refused to behave. It was a bloody nightmare, and his mirror, like every other morning, told him such.
“Merlin, you’re a horror to look at. I wonder why I even put up with you.”
“Because you’re a mirror and you have no other choice?” Harry ventured.
“I’ve never done anything to deserve such a retched fate. How would you feel if you had to look at your ugly mug every day?”
Harry sighed. Trust him to get the most abusive mirror in all the land. He knew that most mirrors were like this, but this one seemed to be particularly abusive and had quite a foul mouth to boot. These insults were definitely not doing much to improve his ego and sense of self worth, but then again he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away and get a new one. This mirror had been one of the first things he had bought for his first flat, and it had sentimental value even if it was constantly hurling insults at him.
“Well I best be off now.” He gave his mirror a mock salute and turned his back ignoring the profanities it decided spew at him. Really, he had such a lovely mirror.
Harry made his way to Frederick’s, a little French bistro on the nicer end of Diagon Alley. Hermione used to love it and they had often visited the establishment after the war was over. That was before he had moved to Romania to work with the dragons. Now, he would still floo back monthly for dinner with her and Ron, but other than that most of his time was occupied by the ornery, fire breathing beasts.
Speaking of ornery, fire breathing beasts, Harry adjusted his cloak and gave himself a once over in the store windows that he passed. He wasn’t sure that Snape could breathe fire, but given the right incentive, he was sure that the man could manage it. He didn’t know why he bothered, because Snape was surely not going to give him more than a mandatory glance, but he wanted to look good for the man. He had forgone his robes in favor of a more casual Muggle outfit, but the damned thing had cost a fortune and he hoped it looked good on him.
Fitted trousers that gave him the illusion of having an arse, check.
Tailored button up shirt that stretched across his hard earned chest muscles, check.
Dragon hide boots that cost him two month’s pay, check.
Cloak that supposedly made him look dashing, check.
Now if only he could find another bloke to put into the outfit then he’d be set, for he knew that Snape wouldn’t really want him no matter what package he was wrapped in. Harry sighed. It really was quite bothersome going after a man that thought amoebas had more appeal than he did.
When he got to Fredrick’s, Harry found that Snape was already there waiting outside for him. Snape didn’t look pleased. Well, on the bright side, at least Snape had showed up, and also, at least Harry wasn’t late. He knew that he was at least ten minutes early, as was polite.
Harry took a breath, steeled himself, and then said with a smile, “Hello Professor, did you wait long?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Potter; it’s not even 11 yet.” Snape glanced fleetingly at Potter and then averted his gaze with a disgruntled look. Harry couldn’t help but flinch at the man’s undoubtedly unsatisfactory assessment.
Harry smiled widely, hiding the hurt at Snape’s dismissive glance at his wardrobe. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. “Would you like to go in? They have the best Panini sandwiches.”
Snape seemed to huff as he drew himself up. “Eager, are we, Potter? The agreement was for lunch at 11. Seeing as how it is not 11 yet, I don’t see the need to accommodate your every whim.”
Harry stiffened and felt the smile freeze on his face. “Fair enough,” he recovered, “we’ll go in at 11 then.”
Severus mentally cursed himself. He was too old be acting like such a prat, but the way Potter seemed to just dictate everything grated on his nerves. He knew on some level that things would be easier for him if he played nice and acquiesced to Potter’s demands without a fuss, but he just couldn’t do it. The thought of losing his free will for the next 24 hours rankled.
So, as he had idiotically forced himself into the situation, Severus was left with nothing to do but stand there in front of Frederick’s and scowl at the cobble stoned street. To say that the silence was stifling was an understatement. What did he have to lose if he just agreed to go in a few minutes early? His dignity, or what was left of it, that’s what. This was his last rebellion, and he relished it.
When the time came and 11 o’clock rolled around, Severus couldn’t help but sigh and resign himself to his fate. He was starving, having only been able to stomach some tea this morning for breakfast, and the aroma of food was wafting temptingly at his nostrils. He wondered if Potter would allow him to eat, or if he would simply be watching the other man savor the flavors of the French bistro. Severus sighed.
Harry leaned against the wall and tried not to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Every minute standing there with his scowling date made him more nervous, and suddenly his pants felt too tight and the collar of his shirt too stifling. It had just struck 11, but Snape didn’t seem to make any move. Oh well, guess I’m going to have to do all the work today, thought Harry. It wasn’t that he minded doing the work. In fact, he very much didn’t mind doing all the work and pampering the potions professor for a day. It would, however, be nice if the man seemed to want it though.
“Shall we go in, Professor?” Harry asked when Snape still didn’t say anything. Snape simply nodded mutely and let Harry lead the way into Frederick’s. The man was so stiff in his demeanor that Harry wanted to do something, anything, to make him more comfortable. He just didn’t know what to do. Humor didn’t seem to work, and really that had been his only fall back. He had always been good at poking fun at himself.
They entered the restaurant and were led to their table, a quiet little thing near the back underneath a window that overlooked the street. Harry was glad that he had made reservations for the table ahead of time. He had always thought it would be the perfect spot for a date when he used to come here with Hermione and Ron.
Their waiter, a very handsome young man with jet black hair and a tastefully stubbled jaw, came with their menus. “What are you in the mood for today, Professor? I can recommend a few good dishes if you’ve never been here before.” Harry looked hopefully at the man seated in front of him.
Snape was studying the menu. Harry noticed that Snape was looking first at the desserts page with a look of longing on his face. Now that was odd. He had never taken Snape for a sweets kind of man, but apparently the professor had a sweet tooth. He also noticed that Snape was staring at a very sweet looking piece of chocolate cake. Harry tried not to cringe. He had gotten over his sweet tooth after the war and now only tolerated the things.
“I can very well pick out my own meal, Potter,” said Snape without even looking up. “I’m not an invalid nor am I incapable of deciphering the words on a menu or processing my desires through speech.”
Harry gulped. Hearing Snape talking about his desires made Harry uncomfortably tight in the trousers department. It was, Harry decided, a sin to have such a hypnotic voice. It seemed, however, that the man didn’t have a clue how he was affecting Harry. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Professor. I know you’re a brilliant man.”
Snape scoffed. “Don’t patronize me, Potter, and stop calling me professor. I am no longer your teacher, thank Merlin.”
Harry smiled. “Then what do you suggest I call you, sir?” This could definitely turn into a very beneficial opening for him. He longed to call the other man by his name, but simply didn’t have the guts to. He liked having his bits attached to his body and not hexed off after all.
“You may call me Snape.”
“It seems a bit rude for me to call you Snape, sir, no offense.” He knew he was wheedling, and this could potentially end up with Snape not letting Harry address him at all, but he had to try right? He had only ever let the name Severus roll off his tongue in the privacy of his own home. What he really wanted was to say it in public.
Snape looked disgruntled. “Fine, if you must, then call me Severus.”
Harry grinned widely. Victory indeed was the kind of sweetness that he could definitely go for.
Severus was annoyed with himself. It wasn’t a big deal, giving the brat leave to use his name, but it still annoyed him that he had given in so easily. The victorious grin on Potter’s face didn’t exactly soothe his burning ego either. Potter had won that one, and by the triumphant look on his face, he knew it too.
“You can call me Harry,” said Potter.
Severus grunted noncommittally. He didn’t particularly want to call Potter ‘Harry’ or any other name. He really just preferred to be left alone, but seeing as how that wasn’t an option, there was naught he could do. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think about it much longer because their waiter had come again for their orders.
“What will it be today, gentlemen?” He certainly was a good looking bloke. There was a ruggedness to him that made him look almost wild with that black hair of his. Severus tried not to begrudge the handsome man for making eyes at Potter instead of at him. Potter had, after all, grown into a very handsome young man. Even as bitter and cynical as he was, Severus couldn’t deny that fact. No, his tormentor indeed looked very good.
Potter gestured for him to choose first, and he did so warily. Though Potter had been halfway decent so far, there was still plenty of time for him to turn the tables around. Cruelty was always best dealt after kindness after all. It made the blow all that much more painful. “I will have the duck and a glass of merlot,” he said, pointing at the items he had chosen. Severus wasn’t a man to give into the lures of alcohol, but right now, he really needed it.
“I’ll have a Panini sandwich and a water please,” he heard Potter say.
Severus noted that the waiter seemed quite put off that Potter didn’t even glance twice at him. Potter, however, seemed to be oblivious as usual. It made sense though, with as much fame as Potter had, and with the number of people that threw themselves at his feet, Severus supposed that Potter had a right to look down at people. Someone as lowly as a waiter certainly couldn’t get the great Harry Potter’s attention.
Severus was once again reminded of Potter’s father. James Potter had been the exact same way. He never so much as spared those he saw as beneath him a second glance. Like father like son, Severus thought bitterly.
“So, Severus,” said Potter, “how have you been? I haven’t seen you since about after the rebuilding period.”
Severus eyed Potter suspiciously. Why was the man making such an effort to converse with him? There would be no need to. Severus was Potter’s to do with as he pleased for the next 24 hours after all. Not unless…yes, that had to be it! Potter was fishing for information to use against him later on. That was a very Slytherin thing to do, but Severus didn’t put it past Potter.
“I’ve been fine,” Severus answered curtly. He was not going to provide Potter with any more ammunition than strictly necessary. It would be courteous to ask Potter about his well being, but Severus wasn’t feeling particularly courteous. He was, after all, the one being forced into this ridiculous farce of a date.
“I’ve been doing alright as well,” Potter offered. “I don’t know if you heard, but I’ve been in Romania these last few years working with Charlie and the dragons. They’re really magnificent beasts.”
Yes, Severus had indeed heard that Potter had been in Romania. It was impossible to not overhear the gossip when working in a place like Hogwarts. Flitwick was a worse gossip than those meddlesome portraits, and everyone seemed to want to keep in touch with Potter. Severus of course had no such desire.
“Do not assume that everyone is so enthralled by your mere existence that they salivate over news of your whereabouts, Potter,” Severus said instead. Potter blinked a few times in surprise and Severus smirked triumphantly to himself. “I assure you, I have no desire to know about the particulars of your life.”
Potter flushed red in anger and Severus mentally patted himself on the back. He did so love putting the infuriating brat in his place. How dare Potter just assume that he was of such importance that everyone must know or want to know the details of his life? Sure he was the Boy Who Lived and the Savior of the Wizarding World, and yes, Severus would even admit that he had grown up quite handsomely, but the fact that Potter had such gall irked him.
Harry blushed in embarrassment. He was such an arse! Of course Snape wouldn’t have a clue what he had been doing with his life. It was presumptuous and arrogant of him to even word it like that, and he deserved the tearing into that he was getting. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly. “I was only…”
He didn’t know how to continue. On one hand, he really wanted Snape to like him and think that he had enough merit for at least one date, but on the other hand, if he just spilled his guts now and let the other man see how pathetically infatuated he was, then he left himself completely vulnerable and defenseless. It was a double edged blade. He wasn’t sure that Severus wouldn’t just laugh in his face and use his confession against him, and the thought of it was almost too painful.
He could try and play it cool. Charlie had told him that having a certain sense of mystery and aloofness could be a very big attraction, but Charlie had been wrong about the humor approach. Besides, how was he supposed to be mysterious to a man that had known him since he was eleven, and how was he supposed to act aloof towards a man that he loved and had wanted for so long?
In the end, Harry decided to just be himself instead of trying to impress Snape with Charlie’s moves. They weren’t working for him anyways, and what did he have to lose? So what if he made a fool of himself? He was in Romania now most of the time and in the worst case scenario he could just hide out there even more if need be.
Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Harry looked Snape straight in the eye. “Look, I know I’m probably making a fool of myself here, but I really like you.” Harry held up his hand as Snape opened his mouth. If he didn’t get this all out now, he would never get up the nerve to do it again. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since we fought together during the war, and I know that you probably can’t stand the sight of me but when I saw you standing up there on the auction it was too good a chance to pass up. I promise you, I don’t have any ulterior motives nor do I have any delusion that you’d reciprocate my feelings. I just want one chance to take you out on a date. That’s all, I swear, and I’ll never bother you again if you don’t want me to.”
Harry held his breathe even though he was a bit light headed from the long winded speech he had just given. Saying he had a crush made him sound like a third year, but he couldn’t tell Snape that he loved him. No, that would just be too embarrassing, and he wasn’t sure that the other man could handle knowing how deeply he felt.
Snape sat there in silence, seeming to absorb all that Harry had just said. Harry was beginning to worry that the other man’s brain might have short circuited from his abrupt admission when Snape finally spoke. “I don’t believe you,” he said.
Harry felt the little bit of hope he had shriveled up and died inside of him. It hurt. It shouldn’t be possible, he knew it was purely mental, but somehow it hurt him physically. He blinked, trying his best not to let on how close he was to crying. He was too old for this damn it!
“How do you expect me to believe that?” Snape asked incredulously.
Harry looked up at that. Could it mean that Snape was at least willing to consider it, even if just a bit? He might be setting himself up for disaster, but he had to do it. “You could look into my mind and see if I’m lying to you,” he heard himself say.
Severus sat there stunned, first from Potter’s confession and then from Potter’s apparent allowance with his mind. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that someone would actually be fond of him in any remotely sexual way, but Potter’s little speech had stirred something in him. It was something he thought had died a long time ago when he had let Black make of fool of him, and he had never had any hope of it getting a second breathe of life. Potter looked and sounded truly sincere though. Either that or he was a wonderful liar. If it was the latter, then it would be the cruelest thing anyone had ever done to him since Voldemort’s demise. If it wasn’t, however…
Severus didn’t want to think about the possibility that Potter might really mean it because there was no possibility. Potter was young and handsome and everyone loved him. Severus was old and used up and a greasy git. He knew this. It had been made apparent to him at every turn of his life from when he was little. He was undesirable. He knew it.
But...Potter had offered Severus a look into his mind. Severus however, was unwilling to take it. If he were to be truthful, he was afraid. Though whether of finding Potter’s confession to be true or not, he didn’t know. “Don’t be ridiculous!” he hissed defensively. “I won’t fall for your tricks, Potter!”
“There are no tricks, Severus,” Potter said almost sadly. “Please, just give me a chance to prove to you that I’m worth your time.”
Worth his time? Severus had to laugh. Potter had said it so pitifully that Severus almost thought Potter believed it himself. Anyone, even the lowliest hag in Knockturn Alley, would agree that it wasn’t Potter who wasn’t worthy. The knowledge that that was the truth was something that Severus was used to already, so it was ridiculous that it could hurt him, but it did.
Sod it all, Severus thought. What did he have to lose? If he looked into Potter’s mind and found that all this, all this decency, was nothing more than a sham to humiliate him, then he’d be done with it wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t have to guess and wonder anymore. He’d know, and that in itself would be a relief right?
Severus tensed, his back ramrod straight. He would do it. He could always hex Potter afterwards for making of fool him. He knew all the best hexes after all. “Legilimens,” he said as he pointed his wand discreetly at Potter underneath the table.
One thing he had not counted on was how stifling it was inside of Potter’s mind. It was cramped and stuffy, and Severus felt vaguely claustrophobic. He wouldn’t back out now though, not when he had already gone too far and was now inside of Potter’s head. He didn’t have to look very far for what he wanted though, because Potter had readily presented it to him at the front of his mind.
What Severus found there shocked and surprised him. He had expected taunting laughter or at least dishonestly, but the pure sincerity of Potter’s thoughts was staggering. Severus could find no deceit, no mockery, and no malice. He could feel the very truth of Potter’s words, and they went right through him. It was like he was immersed in it. As he floated on the soft tides of Potter’s emotions, he found that Potter did indeed lie though. Potter didn’t simply have a crush on him, Potter was in love with him!
Harry could feel Snape sifting through his thoughts and feelings. It was kind of ticklish but not altogether uncomfortable. At least nothing like their Occlumency lessons back when he was still a brat and still thought Snape was nothing more than an arsehole of a teacher. If he knew then what he knew now, he would have acted more decently towards his one-time teacher, that was for sure.
He could feel Snape searching, and he brought the thoughts and feelings that Snape was looking for to the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t hard; they were the only things he had been thinking about since yesterday. He didn’t even try to hide his desperation for Snape’s acceptance. He was taking a gamble, because all these emotions of his might just end up completely turning the other man off, but he had to do it. He wanted Snape to really know the truth of his feelings, even if it would only end up hurting his chances in the end.
Snape could feel all of his emotions and read his thoughts, but he couldn’t read Snape’s. He didn’t know if Snape was disgusted with him or not, and the longer Snape lingered in his mind the more nervous it made him. He was scared to tell the truth, and when Snape finally withdrew from his mind he didn’t know whether to be relieved or not.
Harry looked up nervously at Snape to see the man staring at him with disbelief and shock on his face. Shit. He had really made a complete fool of himself, hadn’t he? “Sorry if I overwhelmed you.” Harry laughed nervously and fiddled with his napkin. “I finally learned to block memories, but I’ve never quite gotten the hang of controlling how much of my emotions bleed through.”
He knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t stop the tumble of words from his mouth. When he was nervous, he babbled. He had always been like that and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. The fact that Snape was still sitting there basically frozen wasn’t helping either. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”
Part 2
Author:
alexcaster Fest: Snarry-A-Thon
Other pairings/threesome: past Severus/Lucius and Severus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~18,000
Warning(s): Brief mention of past abuse
Prompt:355 - Minerva enters Severus in the new Wizard bachelor auction
Summary: When Harry bids on Severus in the new Wizard bachelor auction to benefit the children of St Mungo’s, can he convince Severus to not only enjoy the date but also go on a second one with him?
A/N: Thanks to my beta and the wonderful mods!
The streets were alive with the sound of…wolf whistles? Harry could not help but turn back towards the large crowd that had gathered in front of the Three Broomsticks. Usually he avoided crowds like he would the Rumpler’s Plague, but it was hard to resist when he wasn’t at the center of all the whooping and hollering.
A makeshift stage had been set up in front of the Three Broomsticks. Upon it, Madam Rosmerta was shouting increasing monetary increments at the crowd of onlookers. Standing next to her was a very pleased looking Gerald Thornberry, second string Chaser for the Canons.
“We’ve got 120 Galleons!” Madam Rosmerta shouted. “Come on you sorry sods, the lad’s a professional Quidditch player for Merlin’s sake! Think of the children!”
“130!” a shout came from the crowd.
“That’s more like it!” Madam Rosmerta grinned in approval. Harry shook his head at the old battle ax with a fond smile. She was still going as tough as ever he had remembered her. In fact, he was sure that half of the whistles were for her.
“Excuse me, sir,” Harry said politely as he nudged the bloke next to him. “Do you know what’s going on?”
The man turned around, beaming in surprise when he spotted who exactly had nudged him. “Harry!” Seamus clapped Harry on the shoulder as he pulled his friend in next to him to join in the merrymaking.
“Seamus,” Harry smiled as he rubbed his shoulder. Seamus always was something of a personal disaster. Didn’t know his own strength; the great sod. “I didn’t recognize you.”
Seamus nodded, his great long beard swaying as he did so. “Course you wouldn’t,” Seamus beamed, “I’m undercover right now actually. Don’t tell anyone, I’m not even supposed to be here. Couldn’t miss out on this though could I?”
Harry glanced back towards the stage. Apparently the Canons Chaser had been bought already because another man had taken his place. “What exactly is this anyway?”
“I’d almost forgotten you haven’t been here,” Seamus said with a grin. “This is the Bachelor Auction for the children of St Mungo’s.”
So that’s what Rosmerta had meant about the children. Well, that was certainly a good enough cause. Harry often donated a few times a year to St Mungo’s himself. Now that he wasn’t the poor runt living under the cupboard, he could afford such excesses.
“I’d take that one home if I could,” Seamus nodded approvingly at the man that had just taken the stage. Harry had to agree, the man was indeed quite the catch. It seemed the crowd agreed with them as well. A strong, square jaw, piercing eyes, nice biceps and a head of luscious, chestnut colored hair; yup, Harry could definitely see the appeal.
The crowd groaned in displeasure as a voice from the crowd called out 200 Galleons and the very suave gentleman was promptly bought and sold. Well, it was no skin off of Harry’s back. It wasn’t like he was going to put in a bid. The man was simply too good looking, and Harry was completely out of practice with the whole dating business. He would just make a fool of himself.
“Alright ladies and gents,” Madame Rosmerta’s voice rang out into the crowd. “We have here a war hero, a man more intelligent than time, and one blimey good catch!”
The crowd oohed and ahhed at the description, wondering who indeed the mystery man was.
“He’s got wit sharper than the most powerful cutting hex, a tongue skilled like the best of duelers, and a presence that will surely make you shiver in anticipation.” The crowd, Harry included, seemed to wait with bated breath. “You miserable little perverts, I present to you for a single evening of dating enjoyment, our bachelor number 13, Severus Snape!”
Crickets could be heard as the very imposing and very much displeased looking Severus Snape walked out onto the stage. The man was just as Harry had remembered; tall, dark, and intimidating. Harry gulped and discreetly adjusted himself under his robes.
Funny how he used to think Snape was such an ugly git when he was still a student at Hogwarts. Well, to be honest, Snape couldn’t exactly be considered a handsome man, but he was by no means ugly. His nose was a bit large and the permanent scowl on his face wasn’t helping issues any, but overall the man didn’t look bad. He was…an acquired taste. Yes, that’s what Snape was. He was an acquired taste, and Harry had most definitely acquired it.
“Blimey…” Seamus whispered next to Harry. “I can’t believe it. Do you think he lost a bet?”
“I don’t know,” Harry whispered back. He didn’t exactly know why they were whispering, but it was so awfully quiet there that it didn’t feel right to talk in anything louder than a whisper. “He doesn’t look too happy to be here.”
“I wouldn’t be either mate,” Seamus laughed, “if I had to stand up there and be humiliated when no one bids for me.”
“Surely someone’s going to bid for him.” Harry looked about the crowd, which had taken on an eerily quiet and somber mood, as if they were expecting the man on stage to hex them at any moment. Well, given that it was Snape on stage, that wasn’t too far off of a possibility.
“Well,” Madame Rosmerta said into the awkwardly quiet air, “Let’s begin the bidding with the customary 20 galleons. Remember folks, this is for the children of St Mungo’s. It’s a damn good cause you lazy sods.”
“Alright, now do I have 20 galleons?” She looked about the crowd, which was as still as death and just as grey. “20 galleons anyone?”
Harry watched as Snape stood on the stage, his face a blank mask of disdain. If the man was upset that no one was bidding for him, then he certainly wasn’t showing it. The look of displeasure on his face was no indication since that was the look he seemed to wear daily. The only reason Harry could even identify Snape’s discomfort was by the way the man’s fingers were oddly rigid at his side. After fighting a war with the man, Harry had learned to see the little things about Severus Snape that so many others usually missed.
Harry waited three more seconds, and when still no one spoke up to bid a measly 20 galleon for Snape, who was probably humiliated up on the stage, Harry raised his hand in the air.
“300 galleons!” he shouted into the shocked crowd.
Everyone turned and looked at him. Seamus’ mouth was hanging open wide enough for a Quaffle to sail through and a collective gasp could be heard from the crowd. Even Snape himself allowed a moment of shock to manifest itself in his enlarged eyes for a split second. Madame Rosmerta stood blinking on the stage. No one, not even the athletes who were generally the most loved, had gotten that high a bidding price.
Shaking herself from her stunned gaping, Madame Rosmerta banged her little hammer against the door of her pub and announced, “Sold, to Harry Potter!”
+++
Harry sat at one of the back tables in the Three Broomsticks nursing a butterbeer. The Bachelor Auction had ended about half an hour ago, and now all those who had bid for someone and got them were waiting with their galleons in hand. Nearly everyone had left already after giving their donations and talking to their bought bachelors about the details of their date.
Sitting there by himself, Harry wondered if maybe he was secretly suicidal. Snape was definitely going to kill him. Sure, Harry had kind of fallen madly in love with the man during the time they spent fighting together at the end of the war, but that didn’t mean that Snape reciprocated his feelings. In fact, Harry was quite positively sure that Snape only tolerated him, and even then, barely.
When he had seen Snape standing up there though, it had been too good of a chance to pass by. This might literally be the only chance Harry had of getting a date with Severus Snape, the most feared potions master in all the land. If he were to ask the ornery man out under normal circumstances…well, Harry just plain didn’t like thinking about the many different curses that Snape would have surely used on him.
A rumbling ‘ahem’ drew Harry from his morbid thoughts. When he looked up, none other than Severus Snape, all intimidation and billowing robes, was standing over him. “May I?” Snape gestured towards the chair in front of Harry.
Harry stood up as was polite and gestured for Snape to sit. The man looked as he always did, a scowl permanently plastered on his face and his eyes full of derision. Harry thought he might pop a boner. He loved dark, brooding men almost to a masochistic level. The fact that it was a dark, brooding man he happened to be head over heels for only made it worse. It was, in fact, quite disturbing.
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Snape glared at him with a look of almost pure hatred as he sat down. Harry felt himself go limp underneath that penetrating gaze. He liked brooding men, but not so much when they were looking at him like he was worse than the dirt off their boots.
“Why?” was the only word that Snape spoke.
Harry tilted his head to the side. He didn’t exactly understand the question. He never was quite good with such vague and open situations. He had found that those situations were never to be taken at face value, especially when you were dealing with Slytherin. “Pardon?” Harry asked.
“Why Potter,” Snape nearly growled. “Did you do it to humiliate me? Is that it? Going to have your revenge now that you’ve secured me for a date?” Snape sneered the last word like it had personally offended him.
Harry tried not to flinch at Snape’s complete disdain of the word. If Snape couldn’t even stand the word ‘date’, how was Harry ever going to get him to go on one and actually enjoy it enough for there to be a second one? And he really would like for there to be a second one too.
“I didn’t do it to humiliate you, professor,” Harry quickly answered. “Trust me, that is the last thing on my mind. And revenge? Revenge on what? The number of times you saved my arse, or the number of times you personally suffered by doing so?”
Snape stared at Harry suspiciously, and granted, it was pretty justified. They hadn’t exactly forged any lasting friendship, though Harry would have liked for them to. Snape just wasn’t the kind of person you approached easily and made friends with. The man’s personal shields were like a castle fortress. Harry had never met someone that guarded. Even after all the time they had spent with one another during the war and all the battles that they had been through, Harry still couldn’t say that he really knew the other man.
“You can’t honestly expect you just want a date.”
Once again, Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt at how much Snape seemed to loathe the notion of dating him. He wasn’t a bad catch, not really. He wasn’t the best looking bloke out there but he liked to think he had at least a bit of depth that would be somewhat appealing. “Honestly, professor, I didn’t do it out of pity or spite or any rubbish like that. Is it so hard to believe that I might just want to take you out on a date?”
Harry glanced hopefully at Snape. The man looked confused, if not a little annoyed.
“Why?” was all that Snape responded with once again.
Harry took a deep breath. “Well,” he began, “for one thing I’ve always thought you were quite fetching, and I don’t know, I guess I’d just like to get to know you better.”
“Fetching, Potter?” Snape sneered and the smile that spread across his face was chilling. “Is that what you think now? Really, you must tell me who came up with this ridiculous plan of yours. Who put you up to it, huh? Weasley? Granger? No, those two aren’t devious enough for something like this. Let me guess, it was those two imbecilic twins. They put you up to it, didn’t they?”
The tracks Snape’s mind could run around astounded Harry. Did the man really think he’d something like this maliciously? Snape really needed to learn how to take a compliment. “No one put me up to anything. I haven’t even seen any of the Weasleys ever since I got back from Romania. I can tell you’re obviously not going to believe anything I say, so how about you let me prove my intentions by taking you out on that date?”
“I’d really like to,” Harry added.
“Well, it doesn’t matter what I like, does it?” Snape challenged. “I’m bound to this date by your doing, so I suppose I’ll just have to suffer through it.”
Harry winced. He really wasn’t that bad of a date that someone would have to suffer through his company, was he? Well, he supposed that Snape was always going to have such a prickly disposition. Still, it wasn’t pleasant to be on the receiving end of it. “I promise I’ll try and make the horrendous ordeal bearable for you.” Humor always helped. At least that was what Charlie had told him, and Charlie definitely went on a lot more dates than he did.
Snape snarled. Harry winced. Perhaps Charlie’s rugged good looks had more to do with his success.
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” said Snape before he seemed to collect himself and that mask of scowling indifference adorned his face again. “Just tell me the time and place, Potter, and let’s get this over with.”
This was definitely not turning out as he had hoped. He knew it was too much to ask that the other man reciprocate his feelings, but he honestly didn’t think his presence would be this much of a nuisance. It was funny how the whole Wizarding world can want you, while the one person you wanted didn’t. “How about we start with lunch at Frederick’s, tomorrow at 11? Then we can just go from there.” He knew that that was bloody early for a date to start, but since he only had Snape for the maximum of 24 hours, he might as well take advantage of it right? After all, Harry had a feeling it would take that long to convince the other man that he had no ulterior motives.
+++
Severus’ eyes bulged as he stared angrily at Potter. So the boy was going to draw this torture out as long as possible, eh? He always knew Potter was an impertinent little brat who always got what he wanted, but this was a new low. Damn Minerva for entering him into this bloody auction!
“Fine!” he growled. It wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. The terms of the contract they entered when Potter had bought his bid was for any amount of time under 24 hours. Barring disfigurement, death, and the other less than savory connotations of a sexual nature, Potter could pretty much do whatever he wanted with Severus for 24 hours. Technically the conditions were that of a date, but knowing Potter and the hatred that had run so deeply for all those years between the two of them, a date was a highly unlikely turn of events. For all Severus knew, Potter would probably demand that he clean his floors or some other equally demeaning task and he’d still have to do it.
Severus supposed he should look on the bright side. At least Potter couldn’t bugger him senseless. Not that he thought Potter would even be in the slightest bit attracted to him. No, he had heard people’s opinions about his appearance for far too long to believe something as delusional as that. Severus shuddered at the implication of what he so narrowly had escaped. He didn’t think he could take it if Potter had free reign of his body in that manner.
“I’ll be there,” he fairly snarled. He would have to fulfill the binding contract, but that didn’t mean he had to be pleasant about it. A small voice inside his head told him that Potter might go easier on him if he acted more pleasantly, but Severus just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He hated being put into this position where his fate was in the hands of another man again. He had done it for the better part of his adult life under the reign of Voldemort, and he really wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow. On the bright side, if one could call it a bright side at least, he had suffered through the Cruciatus and the gratuitous use of his body. Surely he could suffer through 24 hours of whatever humiliation Potter could dream up, right?
With one last glare at the brat, Severus pushed back his chair and left. He didn’t bother to turn around when Potter called out to him as he walked away. He was still a free man, at least until 11 tomorrow, and he would be damned if he started obeying Potter now.
After a very hot shower in which Severus proceeded to hurl his body cleansing potions vials against the wall, Severus still couldn’t sleep. He had been lying there, stewing in his anger and annoyance at not being able to control the situation for the last three hours and it was now nearly two in the morning. He doubted he would get any real sleep tonight but he had to try. If Potter wanted to keep him up for 24 hours shining his boots then he highly doubted that he’d be able to make it without a Pepper Up potion, which he was sure Potter wouldn’t be kind enough to provide.
As he lay there, he cursed Minerva for her meddlesome nature. There were plenty of other single professors she could have entered into the auction on behalf of Hogwarts. There were plenty of better looking professors. He knew she didn’t do it to humiliate him; but still, it had nonetheless been humiliating to stand up there. She thought that he needed to get out more, that socializing would do him well, but he knew better than she did what people thought of him. The humiliation of standing up there and having everyone gape and no one bid on him rubbed him sorely, but having Potter take up his bid was even worse. For all the grief he had given Potter over the years, Severus never actually thought Potter was much like his father. Perhaps he was wrong after all.
Something like this, bidding on your enemy so that you could have them at your beck and call, to humiliate whenever you pleased, was something that reeked of Black and the elder Potter. Thinking about the two of them and how they had twisted him around their little fingers, wound him up and insulted him at every turn, did nothing to soothe Severus’ temper.
No matter, he had survived worse and he would surely survive this. His ego might not come out unscathed and perhaps even his body and mind as well, but he would survive it. After all, it was just 24 hours right? What could Potter possibly do in 24 hours that would be that bad?
Severus shook his head. That thought only brought to his mind all the different ways Potter could use and belittle him. No, he needed to stop with this foolishness. This wasn’t getting him anywhere, and it was already 3. He needed sleep. Now if only it would come to him.
+++
Harry tossed and turned in bed. He had been going at this for an hour and yet he still couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t had insomnia ever since the war was over and Voldemort had died. He just couldn’t get the look of fury in Snape’s eyes out of his mind. The man was sincerely displeased with the notion of having to date him. The thought was upsetting. He wished he could just say never mind, I didn’t mean it, you don’t have to go out with me, but with the binding contract they entered when he bid on Severus, even that wasn’t possible.
And even if it were possible, he really didn’t want to, not really. He wanted to take Snape out on a date, dazzle him with his witty repartee, and then make the other man fall madly in love with him. He knew that it wasn’t at all possible, and that the closest he could get might be getting the man to tolerate his attentions for a few hours. Well, as near to 24 hours as he can get, if he were to be honest. This was going to be his only chance with the man, and he really needed all the time he could get. He knew he was just setting himself up for heartbreak, but when you get the chance to go out with the person you’ve liked for so long, it just wasn’t something that you could pass up.
He knew it was stupid, and that Snape might actually end up hating him more after this, but he couldn’t help but think that it might be worth it if he got to spend a day with the man. He wasn’t even after sex. No, that was definitely not even a point that crossed his mind. He just wanted to be near the man, to spend time with him, to have Snape’s eyes on him for once.
Harry let out a mighty yell of frustration as he flailed around and upset his bedding. He was, undoubtedly, screwed. It was always hard to like someone who had absolutely no interest in you, but it was doubly hard when that man was Severus Snape.
Harry could pinpoint when it had happened; when he had fallen for Snape. It was after he had left Hogwarts already, and they were in the middle of the war. Snape had lost his cover and had paid for it quite dearly. Harry could never quite forgive himself for what the other man had gone through in order to protect him.
It was late September, and he had been careless enough to be captured during one of the Order raids on Lestrange’s property. It was sheer foolishness on his part. They had come up with nothing but an empty mansion and he had let himself get lulled into a false sense of security. It was his own fault that Lestrange had been able to capture him so easily. They had taken him to Voldemort and after a few hours of playing Potter in the middle with them flinging curses and hexes at him, they had thrown him into the dungeons. He had thought for sure that he was done for, that he had lost the war for them all just because of one moment of carelessness.
He had never felt as bad as he did then, and his feelings of self loathing and regret were only intensified when they sent the Dementors in to feed on him. There was nothing he could do, and he could scarcely defend himself without his wand. He had thought that he would go crazy from the sounds of his mother’s screams and the utter helplessness of his situation, but then in the bleakness of night, even as the Dementors continued to feed on him, Snape had come to his rescue.
It happened faster than he could even comprehend, and the next thing he knew a coin was getting shoved into his hand and he was wretched bodily from the dungeon. When he landed back at headquarters, he could barely breathe and to his shame, he had passed out. When he woke up a day later, the reality of the situation hit him. Snape had saved him. Snape had sacrificed himself for Harry yet again.
He didn’t even need to ask in order to know what had happened. Everyone’s grim faces told him all he needed to know. Snape hadn’t made it back with him. Of this he was sure. The portkeys they were all given worked on only one person at a time in an effort to prevent an enemy tagging along into their secured hideouts. If he was safe and sound here, then it could only mean that Snape was still there in that dungeon.
It wasn’t until three days later did the wards on their headquarters sound. What they found when they came into the streets outside of Grimmauld place with their wands raised and ready to attack turned Harry’s stomach. To this day, it still turned his stomach when he thought of the state that Severus had been in.
He didn’t know how the man had survived, or how he had managed to escape, but Snape had only made it as far as the street before he passed out in a bloody lump. They had quickly gotten him inside and healed him as best they could, but Snape’s injuries were so severe that it had taken him over a month to fully heal. Harry had sat at his bedside through the worst of it, and only when Snape was cognizant enough to not tolerate his presence anymore did Harry leave his side. Even then, Harry had set up in front of Snape’s door. He knew the other man was safe now, but he couldn’t help it. This was the only thing he could do for the man.
Snape had never really told them what he had gone through, all the tortures he must have endured, but from the tears in Madam Pomfrey’s eyes every time she came to check up on him, Harry knew that it must have been a horrendous experience. That month that Snape had spent healing in bed was one of the worst times of Harry’s life. He wanted to go in there and beg for forgiveness, prostrate himself even, to the man that had taken all of this hurt in order to save him. But, he couldn’t. Snape simply didn’t allow it, and the look in Snape’s eyes every time Harry was within eyesight told Harry that Snape thought him nothing more than a useless imbecile who air was wasted upon.
He deserved it though. He didn’t contest that fact. It just hurt him more than he could describe to hear Snape’s muffled sobs at night and not be able to do anything about it but sit outside of his door. Severus only ever cried at night. During the day, he was his usual ornery self and he made no mention of what he had gone through and was currently going through, but in the dead of night when everyone was sleeping, Snape would cry and Harry could hear it through the thick door. Harry had fallen in love with that Snape that was too stubborn and prideful to let anyone know his sufferings, and it pained him every time he couldn’t prevent Snape from coming to harm.
There were so many things that he wanted to take back, so many hurtful things that he had said about Snape in the past. The man had every right to hate him. Snape had spent all his time and efforts trying to keep Harry alive, and yet Harry had only ever repaid him with suspicion and doubt and cruelty. As a child, he had hated Snape with such a passion, but now that he was older he could appreciate how much the man had done for him and it made him feel like an even bigger arse.
He had been so callous, so hurtful, in his youth, that he didn’t think there was anything he could do to make up for it. This was going to be his only chance to show Snape that he was more than just a selfish and ungrateful brat. He wanted to show Snape that he loved him, and that he in turn deserved if not a fondness, than at least tolerance. And weird as it sounded, he really did love Snape.
He’d never held the other man or even touched him, but Harry loved him nonetheless. He knew his love was selfish though, and that Snape would never reciprocate his feelings, but he couldn’t help what he felt. He had never met anyone as self sacrificing as Snape, and someone so guarded and smart and brave and loyal and all the wonderful things that the man was. He loved the stubborn git, and tomorrow was the only chance he was ever going to have of showing it. It was only 24 hours, but Harry would make the most of it. Perhaps then he could finally let go of such a painfully idiotic crush on a man he really didn’t deserve to have.
+++
Severus stared at himself in the mirror. He knew he was a miserable looking bastard but his blasted mirror kept insisting on taunting him. He knew that all mirrors were like that, so there was no real reason to get a new one, but this was really getting old.
“Darling, I’m telling you, you look divine.”
“Shut it,” Severus sighed. “Not this morning.”
“I’m serious honey, you’re a catch! Everybody loves the dark brooding type. You just have to give it a chance.”
“Can’t you please, for the love of Merlin, just shut up and serve your purpose?”
“My sole purpose for existence is to see you happy. I’ve spent the last twenty years watching you brood and be miserable. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy?”
“Not really,” Severus answered. He turned away from the mirror, grabbing his cloak from the hook near the door. He didn’t want to have this conversation, especially with a mirror. He had a date after all.
Severus sneered at the label. A date. It really was a laughable concept.
+++
Harry had spent the morning taming his hair in vain. He had tried all the potions and spells there were, but his hair simply refused to behave. It was a bloody nightmare, and his mirror, like every other morning, told him such.
“Merlin, you’re a horror to look at. I wonder why I even put up with you.”
“Because you’re a mirror and you have no other choice?” Harry ventured.
“I’ve never done anything to deserve such a retched fate. How would you feel if you had to look at your ugly mug every day?”
Harry sighed. Trust him to get the most abusive mirror in all the land. He knew that most mirrors were like this, but this one seemed to be particularly abusive and had quite a foul mouth to boot. These insults were definitely not doing much to improve his ego and sense of self worth, but then again he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away and get a new one. This mirror had been one of the first things he had bought for his first flat, and it had sentimental value even if it was constantly hurling insults at him.
“Well I best be off now.” He gave his mirror a mock salute and turned his back ignoring the profanities it decided spew at him. Really, he had such a lovely mirror.
Harry made his way to Frederick’s, a little French bistro on the nicer end of Diagon Alley. Hermione used to love it and they had often visited the establishment after the war was over. That was before he had moved to Romania to work with the dragons. Now, he would still floo back monthly for dinner with her and Ron, but other than that most of his time was occupied by the ornery, fire breathing beasts.
Speaking of ornery, fire breathing beasts, Harry adjusted his cloak and gave himself a once over in the store windows that he passed. He wasn’t sure that Snape could breathe fire, but given the right incentive, he was sure that the man could manage it. He didn’t know why he bothered, because Snape was surely not going to give him more than a mandatory glance, but he wanted to look good for the man. He had forgone his robes in favor of a more casual Muggle outfit, but the damned thing had cost a fortune and he hoped it looked good on him.
Fitted trousers that gave him the illusion of having an arse, check.
Tailored button up shirt that stretched across his hard earned chest muscles, check.
Dragon hide boots that cost him two month’s pay, check.
Cloak that supposedly made him look dashing, check.
Now if only he could find another bloke to put into the outfit then he’d be set, for he knew that Snape wouldn’t really want him no matter what package he was wrapped in. Harry sighed. It really was quite bothersome going after a man that thought amoebas had more appeal than he did.
When he got to Fredrick’s, Harry found that Snape was already there waiting outside for him. Snape didn’t look pleased. Well, on the bright side, at least Snape had showed up, and also, at least Harry wasn’t late. He knew that he was at least ten minutes early, as was polite.
Harry took a breath, steeled himself, and then said with a smile, “Hello Professor, did you wait long?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Potter; it’s not even 11 yet.” Snape glanced fleetingly at Potter and then averted his gaze with a disgruntled look. Harry couldn’t help but flinch at the man’s undoubtedly unsatisfactory assessment.
Harry smiled widely, hiding the hurt at Snape’s dismissive glance at his wardrobe. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. “Would you like to go in? They have the best Panini sandwiches.”
Snape seemed to huff as he drew himself up. “Eager, are we, Potter? The agreement was for lunch at 11. Seeing as how it is not 11 yet, I don’t see the need to accommodate your every whim.”
Harry stiffened and felt the smile freeze on his face. “Fair enough,” he recovered, “we’ll go in at 11 then.”
+++
Severus mentally cursed himself. He was too old be acting like such a prat, but the way Potter seemed to just dictate everything grated on his nerves. He knew on some level that things would be easier for him if he played nice and acquiesced to Potter’s demands without a fuss, but he just couldn’t do it. The thought of losing his free will for the next 24 hours rankled.
So, as he had idiotically forced himself into the situation, Severus was left with nothing to do but stand there in front of Frederick’s and scowl at the cobble stoned street. To say that the silence was stifling was an understatement. What did he have to lose if he just agreed to go in a few minutes early? His dignity, or what was left of it, that’s what. This was his last rebellion, and he relished it.
When the time came and 11 o’clock rolled around, Severus couldn’t help but sigh and resign himself to his fate. He was starving, having only been able to stomach some tea this morning for breakfast, and the aroma of food was wafting temptingly at his nostrils. He wondered if Potter would allow him to eat, or if he would simply be watching the other man savor the flavors of the French bistro. Severus sighed.
+++
Harry leaned against the wall and tried not to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Every minute standing there with his scowling date made him more nervous, and suddenly his pants felt too tight and the collar of his shirt too stifling. It had just struck 11, but Snape didn’t seem to make any move. Oh well, guess I’m going to have to do all the work today, thought Harry. It wasn’t that he minded doing the work. In fact, he very much didn’t mind doing all the work and pampering the potions professor for a day. It would, however, be nice if the man seemed to want it though.
“Shall we go in, Professor?” Harry asked when Snape still didn’t say anything. Snape simply nodded mutely and let Harry lead the way into Frederick’s. The man was so stiff in his demeanor that Harry wanted to do something, anything, to make him more comfortable. He just didn’t know what to do. Humor didn’t seem to work, and really that had been his only fall back. He had always been good at poking fun at himself.
They entered the restaurant and were led to their table, a quiet little thing near the back underneath a window that overlooked the street. Harry was glad that he had made reservations for the table ahead of time. He had always thought it would be the perfect spot for a date when he used to come here with Hermione and Ron.
Their waiter, a very handsome young man with jet black hair and a tastefully stubbled jaw, came with their menus. “What are you in the mood for today, Professor? I can recommend a few good dishes if you’ve never been here before.” Harry looked hopefully at the man seated in front of him.
Snape was studying the menu. Harry noticed that Snape was looking first at the desserts page with a look of longing on his face. Now that was odd. He had never taken Snape for a sweets kind of man, but apparently the professor had a sweet tooth. He also noticed that Snape was staring at a very sweet looking piece of chocolate cake. Harry tried not to cringe. He had gotten over his sweet tooth after the war and now only tolerated the things.
“I can very well pick out my own meal, Potter,” said Snape without even looking up. “I’m not an invalid nor am I incapable of deciphering the words on a menu or processing my desires through speech.”
Harry gulped. Hearing Snape talking about his desires made Harry uncomfortably tight in the trousers department. It was, Harry decided, a sin to have such a hypnotic voice. It seemed, however, that the man didn’t have a clue how he was affecting Harry. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Professor. I know you’re a brilliant man.”
Snape scoffed. “Don’t patronize me, Potter, and stop calling me professor. I am no longer your teacher, thank Merlin.”
Harry smiled. “Then what do you suggest I call you, sir?” This could definitely turn into a very beneficial opening for him. He longed to call the other man by his name, but simply didn’t have the guts to. He liked having his bits attached to his body and not hexed off after all.
“You may call me Snape.”
“It seems a bit rude for me to call you Snape, sir, no offense.” He knew he was wheedling, and this could potentially end up with Snape not letting Harry address him at all, but he had to try right? He had only ever let the name Severus roll off his tongue in the privacy of his own home. What he really wanted was to say it in public.
Snape looked disgruntled. “Fine, if you must, then call me Severus.”
Harry grinned widely. Victory indeed was the kind of sweetness that he could definitely go for.
+++
Severus was annoyed with himself. It wasn’t a big deal, giving the brat leave to use his name, but it still annoyed him that he had given in so easily. The victorious grin on Potter’s face didn’t exactly soothe his burning ego either. Potter had won that one, and by the triumphant look on his face, he knew it too.
“You can call me Harry,” said Potter.
Severus grunted noncommittally. He didn’t particularly want to call Potter ‘Harry’ or any other name. He really just preferred to be left alone, but seeing as how that wasn’t an option, there was naught he could do. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think about it much longer because their waiter had come again for their orders.
“What will it be today, gentlemen?” He certainly was a good looking bloke. There was a ruggedness to him that made him look almost wild with that black hair of his. Severus tried not to begrudge the handsome man for making eyes at Potter instead of at him. Potter had, after all, grown into a very handsome young man. Even as bitter and cynical as he was, Severus couldn’t deny that fact. No, his tormentor indeed looked very good.
Potter gestured for him to choose first, and he did so warily. Though Potter had been halfway decent so far, there was still plenty of time for him to turn the tables around. Cruelty was always best dealt after kindness after all. It made the blow all that much more painful. “I will have the duck and a glass of merlot,” he said, pointing at the items he had chosen. Severus wasn’t a man to give into the lures of alcohol, but right now, he really needed it.
“I’ll have a Panini sandwich and a water please,” he heard Potter say.
Severus noted that the waiter seemed quite put off that Potter didn’t even glance twice at him. Potter, however, seemed to be oblivious as usual. It made sense though, with as much fame as Potter had, and with the number of people that threw themselves at his feet, Severus supposed that Potter had a right to look down at people. Someone as lowly as a waiter certainly couldn’t get the great Harry Potter’s attention.
Severus was once again reminded of Potter’s father. James Potter had been the exact same way. He never so much as spared those he saw as beneath him a second glance. Like father like son, Severus thought bitterly.
“So, Severus,” said Potter, “how have you been? I haven’t seen you since about after the rebuilding period.”
Severus eyed Potter suspiciously. Why was the man making such an effort to converse with him? There would be no need to. Severus was Potter’s to do with as he pleased for the next 24 hours after all. Not unless…yes, that had to be it! Potter was fishing for information to use against him later on. That was a very Slytherin thing to do, but Severus didn’t put it past Potter.
“I’ve been fine,” Severus answered curtly. He was not going to provide Potter with any more ammunition than strictly necessary. It would be courteous to ask Potter about his well being, but Severus wasn’t feeling particularly courteous. He was, after all, the one being forced into this ridiculous farce of a date.
“I’ve been doing alright as well,” Potter offered. “I don’t know if you heard, but I’ve been in Romania these last few years working with Charlie and the dragons. They’re really magnificent beasts.”
Yes, Severus had indeed heard that Potter had been in Romania. It was impossible to not overhear the gossip when working in a place like Hogwarts. Flitwick was a worse gossip than those meddlesome portraits, and everyone seemed to want to keep in touch with Potter. Severus of course had no such desire.
“Do not assume that everyone is so enthralled by your mere existence that they salivate over news of your whereabouts, Potter,” Severus said instead. Potter blinked a few times in surprise and Severus smirked triumphantly to himself. “I assure you, I have no desire to know about the particulars of your life.”
Potter flushed red in anger and Severus mentally patted himself on the back. He did so love putting the infuriating brat in his place. How dare Potter just assume that he was of such importance that everyone must know or want to know the details of his life? Sure he was the Boy Who Lived and the Savior of the Wizarding World, and yes, Severus would even admit that he had grown up quite handsomely, but the fact that Potter had such gall irked him.
+++
Harry blushed in embarrassment. He was such an arse! Of course Snape wouldn’t have a clue what he had been doing with his life. It was presumptuous and arrogant of him to even word it like that, and he deserved the tearing into that he was getting. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly. “I was only…”
He didn’t know how to continue. On one hand, he really wanted Snape to like him and think that he had enough merit for at least one date, but on the other hand, if he just spilled his guts now and let the other man see how pathetically infatuated he was, then he left himself completely vulnerable and defenseless. It was a double edged blade. He wasn’t sure that Severus wouldn’t just laugh in his face and use his confession against him, and the thought of it was almost too painful.
He could try and play it cool. Charlie had told him that having a certain sense of mystery and aloofness could be a very big attraction, but Charlie had been wrong about the humor approach. Besides, how was he supposed to be mysterious to a man that had known him since he was eleven, and how was he supposed to act aloof towards a man that he loved and had wanted for so long?
In the end, Harry decided to just be himself instead of trying to impress Snape with Charlie’s moves. They weren’t working for him anyways, and what did he have to lose? So what if he made a fool of himself? He was in Romania now most of the time and in the worst case scenario he could just hide out there even more if need be.
Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Harry looked Snape straight in the eye. “Look, I know I’m probably making a fool of myself here, but I really like you.” Harry held up his hand as Snape opened his mouth. If he didn’t get this all out now, he would never get up the nerve to do it again. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since we fought together during the war, and I know that you probably can’t stand the sight of me but when I saw you standing up there on the auction it was too good a chance to pass up. I promise you, I don’t have any ulterior motives nor do I have any delusion that you’d reciprocate my feelings. I just want one chance to take you out on a date. That’s all, I swear, and I’ll never bother you again if you don’t want me to.”
Harry held his breathe even though he was a bit light headed from the long winded speech he had just given. Saying he had a crush made him sound like a third year, but he couldn’t tell Snape that he loved him. No, that would just be too embarrassing, and he wasn’t sure that the other man could handle knowing how deeply he felt.
Snape sat there in silence, seeming to absorb all that Harry had just said. Harry was beginning to worry that the other man’s brain might have short circuited from his abrupt admission when Snape finally spoke. “I don’t believe you,” he said.
Harry felt the little bit of hope he had shriveled up and died inside of him. It hurt. It shouldn’t be possible, he knew it was purely mental, but somehow it hurt him physically. He blinked, trying his best not to let on how close he was to crying. He was too old for this damn it!
“How do you expect me to believe that?” Snape asked incredulously.
Harry looked up at that. Could it mean that Snape was at least willing to consider it, even if just a bit? He might be setting himself up for disaster, but he had to do it. “You could look into my mind and see if I’m lying to you,” he heard himself say.
+++
Severus sat there stunned, first from Potter’s confession and then from Potter’s apparent allowance with his mind. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that someone would actually be fond of him in any remotely sexual way, but Potter’s little speech had stirred something in him. It was something he thought had died a long time ago when he had let Black make of fool of him, and he had never had any hope of it getting a second breathe of life. Potter looked and sounded truly sincere though. Either that or he was a wonderful liar. If it was the latter, then it would be the cruelest thing anyone had ever done to him since Voldemort’s demise. If it wasn’t, however…
Severus didn’t want to think about the possibility that Potter might really mean it because there was no possibility. Potter was young and handsome and everyone loved him. Severus was old and used up and a greasy git. He knew this. It had been made apparent to him at every turn of his life from when he was little. He was undesirable. He knew it.
But...Potter had offered Severus a look into his mind. Severus however, was unwilling to take it. If he were to be truthful, he was afraid. Though whether of finding Potter’s confession to be true or not, he didn’t know. “Don’t be ridiculous!” he hissed defensively. “I won’t fall for your tricks, Potter!”
“There are no tricks, Severus,” Potter said almost sadly. “Please, just give me a chance to prove to you that I’m worth your time.”
Worth his time? Severus had to laugh. Potter had said it so pitifully that Severus almost thought Potter believed it himself. Anyone, even the lowliest hag in Knockturn Alley, would agree that it wasn’t Potter who wasn’t worthy. The knowledge that that was the truth was something that Severus was used to already, so it was ridiculous that it could hurt him, but it did.
Sod it all, Severus thought. What did he have to lose? If he looked into Potter’s mind and found that all this, all this decency, was nothing more than a sham to humiliate him, then he’d be done with it wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t have to guess and wonder anymore. He’d know, and that in itself would be a relief right?
Severus tensed, his back ramrod straight. He would do it. He could always hex Potter afterwards for making of fool him. He knew all the best hexes after all. “Legilimens,” he said as he pointed his wand discreetly at Potter underneath the table.
One thing he had not counted on was how stifling it was inside of Potter’s mind. It was cramped and stuffy, and Severus felt vaguely claustrophobic. He wouldn’t back out now though, not when he had already gone too far and was now inside of Potter’s head. He didn’t have to look very far for what he wanted though, because Potter had readily presented it to him at the front of his mind.
What Severus found there shocked and surprised him. He had expected taunting laughter or at least dishonestly, but the pure sincerity of Potter’s thoughts was staggering. Severus could find no deceit, no mockery, and no malice. He could feel the very truth of Potter’s words, and they went right through him. It was like he was immersed in it. As he floated on the soft tides of Potter’s emotions, he found that Potter did indeed lie though. Potter didn’t simply have a crush on him, Potter was in love with him!
+++
Harry could feel Snape sifting through his thoughts and feelings. It was kind of ticklish but not altogether uncomfortable. At least nothing like their Occlumency lessons back when he was still a brat and still thought Snape was nothing more than an arsehole of a teacher. If he knew then what he knew now, he would have acted more decently towards his one-time teacher, that was for sure.
He could feel Snape searching, and he brought the thoughts and feelings that Snape was looking for to the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t hard; they were the only things he had been thinking about since yesterday. He didn’t even try to hide his desperation for Snape’s acceptance. He was taking a gamble, because all these emotions of his might just end up completely turning the other man off, but he had to do it. He wanted Snape to really know the truth of his feelings, even if it would only end up hurting his chances in the end.
Snape could feel all of his emotions and read his thoughts, but he couldn’t read Snape’s. He didn’t know if Snape was disgusted with him or not, and the longer Snape lingered in his mind the more nervous it made him. He was scared to tell the truth, and when Snape finally withdrew from his mind he didn’t know whether to be relieved or not.
Harry looked up nervously at Snape to see the man staring at him with disbelief and shock on his face. Shit. He had really made a complete fool of himself, hadn’t he? “Sorry if I overwhelmed you.” Harry laughed nervously and fiddled with his napkin. “I finally learned to block memories, but I’ve never quite gotten the hang of controlling how much of my emotions bleed through.”
He knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t stop the tumble of words from his mouth. When he was nervous, he babbled. He had always been like that and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. The fact that Snape was still sitting there basically frozen wasn’t helping either. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”
Part 2