Harry was somehow unsurprised when he opened the door at Grimmauld Place two weeks after the final battle to see Severus Snape standing there. That this Severus Snape was his age, or perhaps a bit younger, was startling, but no more unusual than other things he'd seen since he joined the Wizarding World.
He hesitated over saying hello. Did the man – boy – remember being a Professor? Would he think that Harry was James?
Severus just stepped forward, forcing Harry to step aside and let him in.
"Potter," he said as he walked past. Then he walked up the stairs to his old room in Headquarters and that was that.
They moved around each other carefully, neither mentioning Voldemort, or suddenly being twenty years younger or the fact that in Harry's borrowed jeans and a face not lined from years of scowling Severus Snape bordered on the desirable. Instead they ate a breakfast prepared by Kreacher and left each other alone each day to potions and thoughts and endless letters to reply to. A month of this dance, and Harry didn't think he'd referred to Snape by name at all.
Still, each morning their fingers brushed over marmalade and over time there were shared gripes over the Daily Prophet's definition of reporting and even shared grins when one or the other came out with a particularly clever quip.
Then his Hogwart's letter arrived inviting him to an eighth year, and there was one addressed to Severus Snape as well. He pushed open Severus' door to find him sprawled on the bed and gazing out the window over the square. He looked relaxed and Harry had to look to that nose to believe it was really the Potion's Professor who had scared him for so long.
"The school sent a letter."
Snape didn't reply so Harry flopped onto the bed beside him, trying to see what was so interesting in the square. He handed the letter across and watched as Snape opened it.
"I don't want to go back." The words were so low that Harry barely heard them.
"Me neither," he managed to reply.
"So we can stay here?" Snape asked.
"Yes."
As he watched a small child throw a ball onto the street, Harry felt a leg creep over his own until it pinned him to the bed, however lightly. He decided not to comment on it.
"Will you join me for lunch, Severus?" was all he asked as he tried to hide his smile.
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Date: 2011-09-17 04:05 am (UTC)He hesitated over saying hello. Did the man – boy – remember being a Professor? Would he think that Harry was James?
Severus just stepped forward, forcing Harry to step aside and let him in.
"Potter," he said as he walked past. Then he walked up the stairs to his old room in Headquarters and that was that.
They moved around each other carefully, neither mentioning Voldemort, or suddenly being twenty years younger or the fact that in Harry's borrowed jeans and a face not lined from years of scowling Severus Snape bordered on the desirable. Instead they ate a breakfast prepared by Kreacher and left each other alone each day to potions and thoughts and endless letters to reply to. A month of this dance, and Harry didn't think he'd referred to Snape by name at all.
Still, each morning their fingers brushed over marmalade and over time there were shared gripes over the Daily Prophet's definition of reporting and even shared grins when one or the other came out with a particularly clever quip.
Then his Hogwart's letter arrived inviting him to an eighth year, and there was one addressed to Severus Snape as well. He pushed open Severus' door to find him sprawled on the bed and gazing out the window over the square. He looked relaxed and Harry had to look to that nose to believe it was really the Potion's Professor who had scared him for so long.
"The school sent a letter."
Snape didn't reply so Harry flopped onto the bed beside him, trying to see what was so interesting in the square. He handed the letter across and watched as Snape opened it.
"I don't want to go back." The words were so low that Harry barely heard them.
"Me neither," he managed to reply.
"So we can stay here?" Snape asked.
"Yes."
As he watched a small child throw a ball onto the street, Harry felt a leg creep over his own until it pinned him to the bed, however lightly. He decided not to comment on it.
"Will you join me for lunch, Severus?" was all he asked as he tried to hide his smile.