elmyraemilie (elmyraemilie) wrote in snape_potter, @ 2014-07-15 20:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | summer challenge14 |
Summer Challenge 14: There's No Place Like Home (General, pre-romance)
Title: There's No Place Like Home
Author: elmyraemilie
Other pairings/threesome: None
Rating: General
Word count: 1352
Theme chosen: All of them; Summer quote: "...Summer's lease hath all too short a date."--William Shakespeare, Sonnet XVIII
Warning(s): None
Summary: Harry rediscovers home.
A/N: Unbetaed.
As a first career, refereeing international quidditch matches made a lot of sense for Harry; he wasn't quite good enough to play professionally, but he knew the game, his reputation was excellent, and he was young enough to keep up, not only on the pitch but with the heavy travel schedule referees maintained. Since the day after his twentieth birthday, when he passed the rigorous examination of the Referee Review Board, he'd stayed the course through years of hotel rooms and portkeys. If over the past year or so he noticed that his reflexes weren't quite as quick as they once were, he chose to put it out of his mind.
It was this past Christmas that George, handing him a cup of spiked punch, asked, "So, what's your next move?" Harry was shocked to find that he had no idea how to answer that question. That was the seed, and here was the fruit: at the age of thirty-seven, he had left the broom behind. He didn't realize how tired he was of traveling until he woke up the third morning in a row in his own bedroom and nearly wept with joy.
Today was going to be a great day, a real kick-off for his new homebody status. Molly and Arthur were giving a Summer Solstice party. The whole Weasley clan (a considerable tribe, these days), along with their many friends, old schoolfellows and colleagues, were turning up at the Burrow that evening. There'd be a little ritual at sunset, and after that the party would go on all night.
Harry was looking forward to some of Molly's delicious pancakes for breakfast tomorrow morning--almost as much as he was looking forward to seeing everyone and being able to give his friends his new local Floo direction.
XOXOX
When Harry Apparated just outside the fence, he could see folks already gathered under the little canopy in the Burrow garden. As he approached, a cry of greeting went up, and he was inundated with red-heads of every shade, from wise Arthur to the most recent cooing great-grandchild. Once that tide turned, the second wave approached. Neville Longbottom, looking quite fit indeed, wrung Harry's hand and introduced his wife Maria and their daughters Zoe and Alma. Luna Lovegood came to shake his hand and give him a kiss on the cheek "for luck," though coming from Luna, Harry wasn't sure how to take that. He shook hands, kissed cheeks, slapped backs and cuddled babies for over an hour.
At last, he found himself at the end of the buffet line with a beer and a kebab. He munched and observed, basking in the glow of having all his friends around him. Laughter floated up with the smoke of the barbecue; parents gossiped, kids capered, teens flirted. Among the sociable throng, there was one person who drew the eye: the silent, solitary Severus Snape.
Harry was startled to see him. He knew Snape was employed by the Ministry; Arthur worked with him from time to time. But it had been, what? Over fifteen years since he'd laid eyes on the man. From his station behind the punchbowl, Harry looked Snape over. He hadn't changed much: still rail-thin; hair black, perhaps a bit longer; and that nose! Nothing short of elder magic would change it. But the air about him--that was different. His shoulders were relaxed, his face tinted with mild interest. Harry was certain that there were fewer lines on that high forehead than there had been just after the war.
Snape must have felt eyes on him; he turned his gaze from the antics of the Scamander twins and inclined his head in greeting. On impulse, Harry picked his way over and extended his hand.
"Professor Snape. It's good to see you, sir."
Snape's grasp was strong, but brief. "Not so much of the 'Professor' these days, Mr. Potter. I am merely Severus Snape, of the Ministry of Magic."
"Never 'merely' anything, not to those who remember the war." There came no reply. Harry wanted to know more about this rediscovered Snape, so he asked about his work at the Ministry. This was still Snape: acerbic, cool, fearsomely intelligent. Yet the razor edge of his tongue was softened, and the sly comments he made about their fellow party-goers carried a whiff of humor along with the weight of acid observation.
A fascinating hour later, they were startled out of a discussion about magical practice on the Summer Solstice by Arthur's amplified voice. "Now everyone, stand still for a moment and touch the person closest to your right hand." Amid the laughter of people sorting themselves out, Harry reached out and touched Snape's shirtsleeve. "This is your partner for the Solstice ritual. Two by two now, along the path. You'll see the bonfire just over the hill."
How awkward! "Do you mind?" Harry asked.
"Not at all. Shall we go?" There was warmth in Snape's voice that found an echo in Harry's smile.
The bonfire was on the eastern side of ground that sloped down toward the river. It was much darker here; people kindled Lumos to find their way on the narrow path. The fire, already leaping up from a pyramid of wood, cast a circle of light as Molly cast a circle of magic. Someone started a drumbeat. Two by two, partnered by chance rather than preference, everyone danced around the rising flames. When the time was right, each person shielded the back of the other while they cast sticks into the bonfire to mark an intention for the Summertide. The ritual was light, but solemn all the same, and Harry felt his heart expand with love for his people and his home.
When the time felt right, he and Snape approached the fire. He gestured Snape to go first while he stood, wand drawn, at guard behind him. He heard Snape make a sound, almost defiant, as he cast his fortune into the flames. It inspired in Harry the need to keep Snape safe, even in this most secure of places; he rooted his feet to the earth and opened his arms more strongly against any ill that might dare approach.
Snape's hand on his shoulder startled him a bit. He turned to find himself face-to-face with the nemesis of his youth. Their eyes met, and held. One long-fingered hand came up to brush along Harry's cheek. Then Snape took his place to stand sentinel for Harry as he made his Solstice intention.
By the time the last of the group had come to the fire, it was burning low. Molly opened the circle with a blessing and a moment of silence, and everyone started back to the house, with its food and drink and light.
Harry still stood, looking down at the coals, hypnotized by the waves of light and color in them. He couldn't even begin to name what he was feeling; he simply stood and felt, felt strongly what it meant to be home and among his own once again, felt the start of a connection with a most unlikely man. Beside him, Snape stood looking upward toward the stars where they winked through the smoke. Without thinking, Harry leaned toward him; Snape's arm found its way around his shoulder.
"As we said earlier," Snape rumbled, "this is a very potent time of year. One should never undertake a new path at this time unless one is wholehearted in its pursuit."
"Mmmmhmmm," Harry agreed. "It's also a prime time for finding treasure. Fire is often used to divine the location of what you are looking for."
They turned to face each other. "Only serious intentions," he said.
Harry smiled, and took Snape's hand in his own. "To seek a treasure found by a fire."
"And after summer, what?"
"Oh," said Harry. "There's another ritual in the autumn, if we need one."
Snape's eyes searched his face; Harry smiled, reassuring. From the top of the path, George's voice carried: "Who wants a piece of Mum's carrot cake?"
"Carrot cake," Snape repeated, eyes still locked on Harry's. "I'm quite fond of carrot cake."
"Well then, we should go get some," replied Harry. They walked close together, back up the hill.