Snarry-a-Thon18: FIC: At Last My Love Has Come Along Title: At Last My Love Has Come Along Author:vix_spes Other pairings: Sirius/Remus, Harry/others Rating: PG13 Word count: 4769 Content/Warning(s): Magical AU Prompt: No. 63 from 2017. AU. Sirius and Remus run a B&B in Cornwall and Harry visits often, every time with another young man and each time his companion is a total disaster. A certain potions master has a little shop in town and believe it or not forms a friendship with Sirius and Remus. Sirius gets desperate and wants Harry to have a relationship with somebody who is not a total flake, so he decides to play cupid. Summary: When the seventh boyfriend Harry has brought home turns out to be as big a disaster as the previous six, Sirius decides to step in and do some matchmaking. A/N: So, I'm only a year late with this one but here it is finally! Title from the eponymous song by Etta James. Huge thanks to isisanubis for the handholding and the beta. Even bigger thanks to the wonderful mods for their patience.
Sirius made his announcement whilst dodging the piles of flying laundry that were moving around their B&B. They’d had the B&B – Marauder’s Rest - for over twenty years now, but Sirius had never quite managed to get the hang of the spells that were a necessity to change the linens in the bedrooms. By comparison, Remus was incapable of making anything other than a (very good) cup of tea, so they balanced each other out and had worked out a system that worked very well; Remus dealt with making up all of the rooms, while the kitchen was Sirius’ domain. Sort of. Well, he could make a mean sandwich and great breakfasts. Beyond that, everything else was taken care of by Dobby, the family house-elf.
“Yeah?” Remus’ head appeared briefly amongst all of the floating sheets. “That’s wonderful. What else does he say?”
“Hmm, let’s see. He’ll be here on Friday in time for lunch and staying until Monday morning and … oh, he’s bringing someone with him.”
“What?” The clean sheets fell to the floor as Remus lost control of the spell. Swearing loudly, he made a jerky movement and folded them up as he made his way to sit next to Sirius in his spot out of the way. “I didn’t know that he was seeing someone else, did you? Who’s this one?”
“No, I didn’t. Let’s see what he says. Okay, apparently, he’s called Cedric Diggory. He’s three years older than Harry and works in the Ministry.”
“Well, none of that sounds too bad, Sirius.”
“He’s three years older than Harry!”
“Viktor was four years older…”
“And look at how successful that was. They were only together for three months.”
“That’s still probably the longest relationship that Harry’s had. And I really don’t think that they split up as a result of the age gap.”
“No, the fact that he could barely speak English ensured that but…”
“Oh hush, don’t be mean Sirius. Lack of English aside, I rather liked Viktor. He was certainly one of the least disastrous boyfriends that Harry has brought home over the years. Do I have to remind you of Blaise? Or Seamus?”
Sirius winced at Remus’ words. As if he could forget them; those two were etched on his memory for eternity. Blaise Zabini and Seamus Finnigan had been two of Harry’s very first boyfriends, or at least the first two that he had ever brought home. More than once, Sirius had found himself wondering if it had been their visits that had set the precedent for all future boyfriends.
Blaise probably took the title of ‘worst boyfriend Harry ever brought home’ by sheer dint of the fact that on his very first night at the B&B, when Sirius had retired to bed leaving Harry and Remus discussing some obscure book that they had both read, he had found Blaise naked in his bed, intent on seducing Sirius. Sirius had shouted loudly enough to bring both Harry and Remus running, and it had been Harry himself who had thrown his naked boyfriend out onto the streets of Boscastle while Sirius had insisted on incinerating the bedlinens. It had later transpired that Blaise had never really had any interest in Harry but, after seeing his godfather, had set his sights on Sirius – despite his being taken by Remus – and had seen Harry as simply a means to an end. Suffice to say that the relationship hadn’t last beyond the whole of Boscastle seeing Blaise’s naked backside running past the harbour.
By contrast, both Sirius and Remus had rather liked Seamus Finnigan, the madcap Irish lad that Harry had brought home after Blaise; he hadn’t tried to seduce either of them, so that was a huge plus. Then again, he had also managed to blow up one of their guest rooms, a good portion of the kitchen, and Swoop, Harry’s very first and much beloved broomstick that had been a gift from Remus and Sirius. Thank Merlin, he hadn’t got close to Splodge, Harry’s equally beloved (and now rather elderly) crup. Unsurprisingly, Seamus hadn’t lasted too long after that visit. In fact, Harry had apparently dumped Seamus before they had arrived back in London.
Things hadn’t improved too much after that.
Following Seamus had been Justin Finch-Fletchley, who had been so insipid and simpering that Remus hadn’t even chastised Sirius when he had caught him measuring out Skele-Gro, merely snorted with laughter and rather sardonically commented that he wasn’t sure they had enough potion on hand to help Justin grow a spine. After Justin had been Percy Weasley, and Harry had dumped him on day one when Percy had not only refused to leave the village witchcraft museum but had also insisted on pointing out everything that he considered to be incorrect, and there was a lot. It had sent the normally mild-mannered Remus apoplectic with rage; whilst the B&B took up the majority of his time, he would often spend the quieter winter months doing research for the museum and had indeed written much of the content featured in both the Muggle and Wizarding portions of the museum.
To say that Harry was unimpressed was an understatement, to say the least. He adored both of his adoptive fathers and the tongue-lashing that Percy had been subjected to had been brutal, with both Remus and Sirius wincing and trying to forget what they had just heard when Harry had rather coolly informed Percy that if he hadn’t been so good in bed, then Harry would have ended things far sooner. Percy had been followed by the aforementioned Viktor and they were now faced with the prospect of Cedric Diggory. Given Harry’s previous track record, they weren’t exactly hopeful. Still, they were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
By the time that that they reached Sunday, things were going well. Remus and Sirius liked him well enough. He was certainly the best of the boyfriends that Harry had ever brought home. Cedric had certainly been at pains to make a good impression on Remus and Sirius, knowing how important they were to Harry. He brought gifts for both of them – Firewhiskey for Sirius and chocolate for Remus – he knew all about Remus’ work for the museum and asked Sirius all of the right questions about Marauder’s Rest. When they took Splodge for a very leisurely walk along the beach, Cedric was complimentary of Boscastle and had all of the inhabitants that they met eating out of the palm of his hand. Yes, he was a couple of years older than Harry, but Cedric was pleasant, good-looking, and he and Harry seemed to be a good fit.
And then came Sunday lunch. As was his wont when Harry was home for the weekend, Dobby had made all of Harry’s favourite foods. Over sticky toffee pudding and custard, the talk had turned to the future and what plans Cedric had for his life. All three inhabitants of Marauder’s Rest had listened with no little shock as Cedric turned out to be a traditionalist, firmly of the opinion that his spouse – whoever it ended up being – would be the one that stayed at home to look after the house and the children, effectively giving up their career while Cedric pursued his career at the Ministry.
Knowing Harry as they did, Sirius and Remus recognised the signs as Harry played with his pudding rather than eat it and, as a result, were completely unsurprised when, in their next Floo call, Harry said that he and Cedric had made the decision to end things. That they didn’t have the same plans for their future and that, the next time Harry came to Marauder’s Rest, he’d be doing so alone.
~*~
After Cedric came Draco Malfoy.
There had been no boyfriends since Cedric, so about six months now, at least not ones that had been deemed worthy of meeting Sirius and Remus. They had tentatively broached the subject once or twice and had been told in no uncertain terms that Harry was concentrating on his career and, as such, didn’t have time for romance. Both Sirius and Remus had accepted that response and secretly been quite pleased. And then, all of a sudden, the name Draco had started cropping up in the regular mirror and Floo calls home.
Sirius and Remus had tried to be positive about it whenever Harry mentioned him but, well, Harry had never been the best at picking his boyfriends and they weren’t too enthusiastic about what they had heard about Draco so far. Unlike Harry, who was training for his intended career, Draco lived the life of the idle rich, supported by family money. He had no intentions of training for a career but had the vague inclination to follow his father into politics. It was more than a little at odds with Harry’s vision for his future, but Harry seemed happy so, ignoring their parental instincts that this was a bad idea, Sirius and Remus agreed that they wouldn’t make their final judgement until they had met Draco in person.
They regretted their decision instantaneously.
Draco lasted until dinner on Friday, by which point they were all sick of him and it was almost a competition as to who could kick him out first. He had an opinion on absolutely everything and none of them were good.
The remarks had started the instant that they set foot in Boscastle, although Harry had given him the benefit of the doubt to start with. Despite the fact that they had got a Portkey (Harry was actually very fond of the train down from London), Boscastle was too far out of the way and definitely too far from London for Draco’s liking. It was tedious – there was nothing to do - and the sea air was no good for Draco’s hair and complexion. Harry bit his tongue and kept quiet; Draco was a city wizard and thus he wasn’t used to somewhere like Boscastle, where wizards and Muggles co-existed side by side without the Muggles having any idea. However, it became harder for Harry to keep quiet when Draco made scornful comments about Bathilda Bagshot, who ran the bookshop and assisted Remus with research for the museum, the indomitable Griselda Marchbanks, and batty old Squib Arabella Figg, who ran the local café and made some of the best cakes that Harry had ever eaten. None of them were by any means perfect but Harry had known them for his whole life and he was inordinately fond of them.
It had then been the turn of the museum to be on the receiving end of Draco’s scathing tongue - apparently dank and musty – and the B&B – quaint, ‘if you liked that sort of thing’. By this point, Harry had been seething. And then Draco had made the fatal error. Seemingly oblivious to the frosty atmosphere, he made the comment that he couldn’t understand why a strong wizard like Sirius – who’d had a high-flying career in London as an Auror – would give it all up and move to a little backwater in Cornwall where half the population were Muggles. Harry’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides and various ornaments were rattling ominously, Remus’ eyes were flashing eerily and there was a definite growl coming from Sirius’ direction.
Remus and Sirius leaving London, giving up their lives and careers there to raise Harry after his parents had been killed by a wizard that Sirius and his dad were investigating, was something of a contentious point. When Harry had found out when he was about sixteen, he had been horrified and full of guilt despite his adoptive fathers’ insistence that they didn’t regret it at all and that they would do it all over again. Harry had finally taken their word for it, loving them all the more, but he still felt guilty and to have Draco bring it up like this was like putting salt in the wound. However, before any of them could do anything, there was an almighty crack and by the time the echoes had stopped, there was no sign of Draco, just a very smug-looking Dobby.
“Elfs magic. Nasty wizard was being mean about Masters Moony and Paddy. Not good. Master Harry deserves better.”
Remus chuckled as Harry blushed and Sirius finally stopped growling. “You’re absolutely right, Dobby. Harry does deserve better. Now, I think we’d all feel better after some of your excellent food, if that’s okay?”
“Yes, Master Moony. Dinner is ready now.”
“Thank you, Dobby.”
~*~
It was hardly surprising when the occupants of Marauder’s Rest retired to bed early that evening. Remus was already in bed reading when Sirius made it out of the bathroom, flopping onto the mattress and then wriggling until his head was in Remus’ lap and completely obscuring the book. From there he proceeded to butt his head against Remus’ hand until he got the hint and started to scratch his fingers through the long locks, just as Sirius liked.
“I’ve had an idea…”
The petting stopped momentarily until Remus got the point when Sirius whined and resumed his actions. “I’ve known you for over thirty years, Padfoot, and those words still terrify me.”
“Oi! I’ll have you know that I’ve had some good ideas. Occasionally. Maybe. Anyway, I think that maybe it’s time for us to intervene with Harry…”
Remus, knowing Sirius as he did, put two and two together and groaned. “You want us to set our own son up? Really, Sirius? This has bad idea written all over it. Have you even got anybody in mind?”
“What about that new guy who runs the potions shop?”
“Severus?” Remus thought about the newcomer to Boscastle that he had befriended. He didn’t like the idea of setting Harry up but, well, his choices hadn’t exactly been great and the more that Remus thought about it, the more that he could acknowledge that maybe – just maybe – Severus might be a good match for their son.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“And if you are, what do you want me to do about it?”
“Invite him to dinner on Sunday.”
“I’ll think about it, Paddy. I promise nothing more than that, okay?”
~*~
Harry couldn’t help but worry that his adoptive dads were up to something. After the whole disaster with Draco on Friday night, they’d had a quiet weekend – just like the ones that had been so common before Harry had gone off to London and started his training at St Mungo’s. The subject of Draco hadn’t been brought up and Harry had the feeling that he had Remus to thank for that; he adored Sirius, but the man wasn’t normally that sympathetic to Harry’s hurt feelings. Even so, Sirius had that look of mischief and smug self-satisfaction that usually heralded the fact that he was up to something and that made Harry a little nervous.
All became clear at dinner.
Most of the time, unconventional family that they were, they would eat around the table in the kitchen and Sirius and Remus always insisted that Dobby join them. However, once a week, Dobby insisted that things be done properly and so, just to keep him happy, they decamped to the dining room and let him serve them. Only this time, as he walked towards the dining room, Harry pulled up short at seeing the fourth dinner setting laid out.
So, this was what his dads were up to. Stopping just inside the doorway, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow as Sirius came bounding into the room, coming to a standstill at seeing Harry.
“You look far too much like Moony when you do that. What’s up, pup? Hey! That rhymed!”
“Why are there four place settings for dinner? I thought it was just going to be the three of us? Unless it’s for Dobby…”
“It was just going to be us but then we thought we’d invite the new guy in the village who’s taken over the potions shop. He doesn’t know that many people yet and he and Moony get on really well.”
“Are you sure that’s all there is to it? You’re not trying to match-make, are you? Because I split up with Draco less than forty-eight hours ago.”
“I promise. There’s nothing more to it than us trying to be friendly; this just seemed as good a time as any. Besides, he’s a potions master so, I don’t know, you can talk to him about new potions or something.”
“Okay, but I mean it, Dad. I know I’m a bit of a disaster when it comes to dating,” Harry chuckled in self-deprecation, more than a little grateful when there was no agreement with his evaluation, “but I’m not quite sure that I’m at the level of needing my dads to get involved just yet.”
Anything else Harry was going to say was halted by the arrival of Remus and their guest. Harry couldn’t help but be curious. Most of the residents of Boscastle were, well, to say they were on the older side was being kind. Sirius and Remus were an aberration, as were the Lovegoods, who lived out of town on the cliffs and whose daughter – Luna – Harry had grown up with. The newcomer looked to be even younger than his dads, somewhere in between them and Harry. He was certainly interesting to look at but couldn’t be described as conventionally handsome. Then again, a large part of that - the slightly greasy locks and sallow skin - could be put down to far too many hours spent bent over cauldrons. Harry didn’t know a single person who worked in the potions department at work who didn’t suffer from the same issue. Beyond that, he was tall with dark eyes and a slightly crooked nose.
“Severus, this is our son, Harry. He’s currently in his third year studying at St. Mungo’s. Harry, this is Severus Snape. He’s a potions master who’s taken over the shop in the village.”
“Hi.” Harry reached out to shake hands, noticing the long fingers as he did so, stained from exposure to so many ingredients over the years.
The meal that followed was for more enjoyable than Harry had envisaged, considering the ugly scenes with Draco on the Friday evening. Despite being English, Severus had studied at Durmstrang and had continued his potions mastery and first forays into employment on the continent before deciding that he wanted to return home and ending up in Boscastle. Harry found himself captivated by the way that the man spoke of his career - as though it was a vocation, more than just a job - and impressed by how he was completely up to date with research, especially in the way that it pertained to medical potions. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry was aware of his dads exchanging cryptic glances, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop debating the development of experimental potions and how important they were to the medical profession. The two of them didn’t always agree but the arguments were intelligent, and Harry relished the opportunity to debate with someone other than his classmates. Indeed, he found himself more than a little disappointed when Severus announced that he had to leave and gratified to discover that, though he hid it well, Severus was just as reluctant to depart.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I hope we meet again.”
“Me too, Severus. Me too.”
~*~
Harry swore as he made his way out of St Mungo’s and headed in the direction of Carkitt Market and the little flat that he rented there. His shift was supposed to have finished four hours ago but the potions for one of his patients had been wrong, causing them to deteriorate, and Harry had refused to leave until the little boy was stable once more. It was all the potions master’s fault. St Mungo’s had a specific department staffed by supposed experts in their field who made all of the potions but, given how much they’d screwed up with this, Harry wasn’t convinced that they were masters at all. It wasn’t the first time either. On several occasions, Harry had made a note on his requests for potions that they make slight changes due to his patient’s allergies or intolerance and each and every time the request had been either ignored or the potions he had been sent had been subpar and incapable of doing what they were supposed to. In his rush, he knocked into someone outside the apothecary, muttering, “Bloody potions masters” as he did so.
“Was that aimed at my profession in general or myself personally?”
Harry immediately recognised that smooth voice and looked up, a small smile spreading across his face. “Severus! And umm, neither? Well, more like specifically the ones currently employed at St Mungo’s.”
“Ah yes, I'm familiar with several of them. We've had the, shall we say misfortune, to attend the same conferences. They're hardly stellar representatives of the technical craft and subtle art of potion making. Indeed, several of them would struggle to differentiate between their arse and their elbow, never mind create or adapt a complicated potion.”
“Exactly!! For Merlin’s sake, I could brew some of those potions better than they can. Sorry, I shouldn't be bothering you with all of this. You must be busy.”
“Not at all. I've just finished my errands and was considering a drink and dinner… I don't suppose I could persuade you to join me?”
“Umm….” About ten minutes ago, Harry had had every single intention of going home, putting his pyjamas on and eating his way through a bar of Honeyduke’s finest. Now, he was second-guessing that choice. He was still exhausted after his shift, but he had enjoyed meeting Severus at Marauder’s Rest and he knew, from chatting to his papa, that Severus and Remus had struck up a firm friendship and Harry wanted to get to know that man. “Yes, why not. That sounds great.”
“Fantastic. I think that calls for The Fountain of Fair Fortune rather than The Leaky Cauldron.”
Harry flushed slightly at Severus’ words, the blush spreading to his ears when he felt Severus’ hand at the small of his back, guiding him past a particularly boisterous family. The Fountain was the slightly nicer pub located on Horizont Alley. The Hopping Pot in Carkitt Market was the family-friendly place with outdoor seating, the Leaky was where you met friends and then the Fountain was where you went if you were on a date. Did Severus consider this a date?
Two hours later and Harry found himself wishing that this was a date. It was certainly better than any first date he’d been on with his previous boyfriends, except for maybe Cedric. The Fountain was supposed to serve amazing food and it had certainly sounded great when Harry had read the menu, but he had barely tasted a bite when it arrived, he was so enthralled in his conversation with Severus. Most of it had revolved around their work and the overlap between their careers, Severus listening to Harry’s complaints about the potions department at the hospital and their ineptitude. He had offered alternatives and didn’t laugh outright when Harry said that he might as well brew some of the potions that needed adapting himself.
In the end, it was the only promise of an early start in the morning and another long shift that had Harry bidding his farewells after a chocolate pudding that he couldn’t remember tasting (impressive, as he took after Remus when it came to his love of chocolate). He had lingered, not wanting the evening to end, not wanting to say goodbye to Severus, and he had been rewarded.
“I’m in town for a few days … I don’t suppose I could take you for lunch tomorrow?”
Harry looked up into dark eyes that seemed to be full of … hope? “I technically have a lunch hour but that’s nonexistent if we have an emergency.”
“Why don’t I come to St Mungo’s anyway? If you’re free, we’ll go for lunch. If there’s an emergency, perhaps you’d agree to dinner again? Maybe you’d agree to both, lunch and dinner? We could go to The Golden Unicorn?”
Harry’s breath caught in his chest. The Golden Unicorn was definitely a date venue. “I’d like that … a lot.”
Severus took Harry’s hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, and Harry felt as though he were blushing so hard he might burst into flames. “Then I shall see you tomorrow. One pm?”
“Yes, yes that’s fine.”
“Until tomorrow then, Harry.”
~*~
Harry murmured happily at the feeling of Severus’ fingers trailing up and down his spine. It had been a tough couple of weeks at St Mungo’s after an outbreak of dragonpox and everyone had been working overtime. Severus had been waiting at Harry's flat when he got home, dinner on the table, but Harry had been so exhausted that he had all but fallen asleep face first in his plate. Come to think of it, Harry didn't actually remember getting to bed. Sunlight was streaming through the window, but he was still tired, he was all cosy wrapped in the blankets nestled up against Severus and those long fingers felt so good that he just snuggled even closer with a small snuffle.
“I know you're awake…”
“Too early,” Harry grumbled but propped his head on Severus’ chest, which was as good as it was going to get. “I have the weekend off … we don't have plans, do we?”
“Not as such. I did contemplate the possibility of us going out for dinner this evening but no, I really just wanted to talk.”
“About what?”
“Telling Remus and Sirius about us.” When Harry didn't respond immediately, Severus forged ahead. “Look, it's been six months, longer if we count from that first dinner at the B&B. I'm here every weekend that you're not at the hospital and I'm not complaining about that, but I want to be able to spend time with you at home, in Boscastle.”
“You're just sick of Mrs Figg and Miss Bagshot asking if you're single.”
“Maybe a little bit - someone actually goosed me in the village stores this week - but more than that, I want to be able to say that I'm with you. I don't like lying to Sirius and Remus about where I spend my time. I want to be able to say more than we're in contact for our work. I love you and whilst shouting it from the rooftop might be a bit much, I do want people to know. Don't you want to tell your dads?”
Harry thought about what Severus was saying and couldn’t deny the truth of his words. He did want to tell his dads. His relationship with Severus had shown him where all of his previous attempts had been lacking. It had been six months of dates, dinners out at restaurants, evenings in at home and debating their work but it had all been confined to London. Hell, their first kiss had been on the steps of St Mungo’s. He wanted to take Severus home to Marauder’s Rest, wanted for them to be able to walk around Boscastle hand in hand as they did in London. And then his brain stuck on Severus’ words. “Wait, you love me?”
Severus’ chest vibrated as he chuckled. “Of course I love you. Did you doubt it?”
The more Harry thought about it, the more he knew that he didn’t doubt it. He knew that Severus loved him but, more than that, “I love you too.”
“I know. So?”
Taking a deep breath, Harry craned his neck up and pressed a chaste but heartfelt kiss to Severus’ lips. “What are you doing two weeks from now?”
~*~
“Padfoot, are you ready? Harry’s due any minute…”
“Has he said anything to you about this man he’s bringing home? He’s been avoiding the subject every time I bring it up.”
“No, he hasn’t said anything but we’re about to find out. I just heard the crack of Apparition.”
The two men reached the foot of the stairs at the same time that the front door opened, a very familiar figure stepping through, tugging an almost as recognisable figure by the hand. “Umm, hi. I’d like you to meet my boyfriend. Padfoot, Moony. Umm, Dad, Papa. I think you know Severus.”