The voice under all silences. Chapter 19
Author: pekeleke Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter Word Count: 5515 Rating: N-17 Summary: Four years after the final battle Severus Snape wakes up to HELL! Warning(s): Strong language. A/N: First snarry fic, ever. English is not my mother tongue so mistakes are to be expected. Beta: None Disclaimer: The characters used in this fiction are not mine. No money is being made from it.
THE VOICE UNDER ALL SILENCES. Chapter 19
Attempting to become a friend of Potter's was a truly disorienting experience!. The boy was a strange mix of eagerness and intensity that, sometimes, frightened him!. There were times when the gentleness, with which he was being treated, lodged in his throat, like an unmovable stone!. He'd never experienced anything like this. Not ever!.
He'd been friends with gryffindors before. He'd been close to Lily and Minnie, both. He'd loved Albus like a father!. He'd believed that he understood the lion's approach to friendship pretty well, for a slytherin. But... Now he wasn't really certain if he did!.
Potter was a never-ending source of truly devastating consideration. He was attentive and courteous. He was witty. Funny. Protective. He was utterly disarming...
Over the last few days, Severus had discovered that the auror was quite willing to indulge him, to the point of outright pampering!. He'd been offered trips to every single wizarding location there was and, when he'd rejected every one of those out of hand, the boy had started to take him out, into the muggle world: they'd shared small, peaceful walks around the nearby park. A quiet dinner at the Indian restaurant down the road. A trip to the theatre, were Severus had been moved, almost to tears, over the performance of Les Miserables, while the boy sat quietly beside him: bright green eyes fixed upon his pale face with a tender, affectionate smile...
He'd been plied with his favourite foods, until he'd been ready to burst!. He'd been taken to about a hundred different book-stores and allowed to almost drown, under the weight of the books he'd settled down to read, right there and then!. Potter always chuckled quietly, as he sat beside Severus's chosen chair: usually located in a solitary corner, near the end of whichever shop they were visiting at that moment, and always facing the door.
The boy waited for him patiently. Seemingly content enough to just... hover... around! It had made Severus deeply uncomfortable at first, and he'd attempted, more than once, to rush through his reading in order to be... considerate... with his new friend!.
Potter had seen straight through him, though. ' It's all right, Severus! You can take your time, you know?. Watching you read is kind of soothing!. You look so... peaceful, with your head buried in a book, that it's a crime to cut your enjoyment short, when there's no need for that!'
Slowly, he'd learned to relax and take the gryffindor at his word. It was true that the boy never, not once!, had complained. Whenever Severus's feet would stop, beside the door to a book-store, the auror simply laughed and opened the door for him with polite, almost mischievous, mirth. He even whistled tunelessly, under his breath, as he insisted on carrying the slytherin's choices to their selected seats!. The boy seemed to spend an unusual amount of time simply... contemplating!... Severus's own dark head, as it bent towards his tome, in a way that always left him reeling and slightly anxious.
Sometimes Potter leafed trough a magazine or two. He walked around the aisles, running a distracted finger over the glossy spines of the stacked books, as he passed them. Usually, though, he'd lose himself in the music section. Whiling his time away there: huge earphones in place, head bobbing energetically up and down, as he followed the rhythm of whatever it was that he liked to listen to...
Every now and then their routine shifted minutely, and their days would include some strange and mostly terrifying experience. Potter was a bit of a thrill-seeker!. He loved to climb onto a strange contraption the muggles liked to call Ferrari and drive the thing, so fast!, that Severus always wished he'd had the good sense of refusing to accompany the little menace!.
The auror was, literally, crazy!. He liked to weave in and out of packed lanes, as if he believed himself to be virtually indestructible!. He drove with only one hand on the wheel. Huge smile plastered all over his face and a sly, bright expression turning those emerald eyes of his, into veritable pools of devilish enjoyment!.
' Calm down, Severus! There's no need to leave nail-marks all over the upholstery!. I swear to you that I'm in control of this thing. Nothing is going to happen to you, while I'm here!. Relax, will you?. Feel the wind on your hair and the sun, warming us both!. Watch the world go past us and... be jolly! '
Severus felt, invariably, like growling at the idiot that being jolly was most probably against his very nature!. Particularly while he trembled with fear for his life, as he was being driven at insane speeds!, inside a muggle monstrosity with gryffindor colours!.
Not everything Potter did was death-defying, though. He liked to cook at home. He wasn't particularly good at it, but... He made up for his many deficiencies in skill, with unbridled enthusiasm!. They had started to cook together, after the first time Severus snapped at the child that he was mangling the leeks, so badly, that they'd be useless on the pot!. Now, he generally chopped up and prepared all ingredients, while the menace proceeded to throw them haphazardly into a pan!
It made for a calming and very... homely... way to spend their evenings. One that he found particularly pleasing!. The familiar rhythm of ingredient preparation reminded him of potion brewing. And, although the chatty and slightly disorganised company, couldn't possibly compare to Draco's highly skilled and quiet precision, Severus was, nevertheless, reminded of the millions of hours spent brewing, in tranquil contentment, with his godson.
Every night they stopped at a market, before heading back home, and argued over the merits of this or that other vegetable. Discussed the possibility of buying chicken versus beef. Or pork, fish or, even, something utterly bland but -apparently- healthy enough, called Tofu!. What a terrible choice that had been!... He shuddered every time he even thought of that horrible squishy stuff!
They decided, invariably, on some kind of terrifyingly sweet pie for desert. It was all so very... domestic!... that he couldn't help the thought that this was how a family behaved. These were the kind of things partners did together!. This was something that he'd never, ever!, done before with any of his other friends!. With anyone, really!... And he found the whole experience mildly unnerving!
He was astounded by the fact that they rarely fought. Although their tastes and opinions seemed to be about as far away, from each other, as they possibly could be!: Where he was reticent and mostly reserved, Potter was usually chatty and enthusiastic. where he enjoyed reading, the boy preferred music: the louder the better, apparently!. Where he wanted mainly quietude, Potter was always on the go!. Constantly distracted by this or that other project. Or thought. Or memory... The boy was feverishly active. Happy. Alive. Excitable!...
Some things were very strange though. There were moments that turned inexplicably difficult between them. Looks that became puzzlingly guarded, in the blink of an eye. Touches that lingered on his hand. On his wrist, or his shoulder. Sometimes even his cheek was gently patted, or the corner of his mouth...
There were also smiles: blinding, glowing, heartfelt ones that didn't seem to have a specific reason for appearing, but that regularly illuminated the child's features, nevertheless!. There was peace between them. And there was, surprisingly... Happiness!... A happiness that didn't seem to have any particular source. Or a structure of some kind: a beginning or an end. Theirs was a happiness that simply... existed!.
He remembered, with a special sort of fondness, the first time he'd tasted popcorn. What a wonderful, amazing muggle achievement, that was!. Potter had decided that he needed to experience the unmatched joy of watching Television. He hadn't been particularly thrilled with the idea, as the word reminded him of his father and his pals: drinking themselves into a stupor while contemplating, with almost bovine attention, the evolutions of some men, running wildly behind a ball. Or the revolting shenanigans of scathingly dressed women cavorting with equally scathingly dressed men!...
Surprisingly, the gryffindor hadn't picked up on his reticence. Or, more likely, had decided to ignore it altogether!. He'd insisted on dragging Severus to a shop that sold a frighteningly unrecognisable piece of black metal and, then, proceeded to poke him for a preference on this size or that other. Until he'd pointed at the nearest thing he could see, in exhausted exasperation, and all but snarled: ' That one, Potter! '
After that had come a bizarre walk down the local Tesco's aisles that had veered off, for the very first time, from their usual haunts for veggie and meats. He'd been introduced, then, to what the rest of the shop looked like and he'd been... absolutely shocked!.
He could not recognise most things!. And he was actually muggle-born!. The very concept of just how... out of contact!... he truly was with his own heritage, became a fountain of never-ending amusement to his companion.
The boy seemed to take Severus's reluctant reintroduction to muggle technological advances as a challenge, and appeared to obtain a truly inexplicable enjoyment out of shocking him, with one astonishingly alien device or other!
He'd discovered thus the wonders of the microwave. The dishwasher. The mp3 player. The DVD player. The mobile phone!... the list was simply too long to start enumerating the lot!. Some of them were mere improvements on things that he remembered from his own childhood. Other's, though, were just... Mind-boggling!.
He had gaped, like an idiot, over the computer!. And that wonderful thing they called Internet!... He'd loved the very concept of having knowledge at his fingertips, at all times!. Millions, and millions, and even more millions of books... All of them available for his perusal, at the touch of a button!. Wonderful!. It was an absolute marvel!.
He could not imagine why it hadn't occurred to anybody that this was a fantastic thing to copy from the muggles!. It'd be perfect, for the student's, if Hogwarts ever managed to implement something like it...
Potter had settled on a film that he'd, apparently, watched before, for Severus's first introduction to the TV. It had awfully strange people fighting wars up, in space. They all looked mostly odd. A bit like a house elf, but taller. Some even had the funny ears, too!. Others wore strange orange uniforms. And some spoke in a guttural kind of language that the boy called Klingon...
The thing that had stuck with him, though, had been the popcorn. It was fluffy and white. It popped madly, inside a bag that Potter had dropped in the microwave, filling the whole house with the most incredible aroma!. He'd been astonished by the smell. By the fact that the truly uninspiring, little paper-pouch that the boy had shook under his nose, with a playful smile, had actually managed to produce a smell rich enough to surprise him!. By the time the bag had been opened, revealing its content to his widened eyes, he'd been more than slightly impressed by this thing Potter assured him was... essential!, when it came to T.V watching!.
They'd settled on the leather couch. Headache-inducing yellow bowl filled to bursting, with a veritable mountain of white fluff, and the film started to play. Potter's attention seemed lost in the screen, within a second, and he allowed himself to look down, curiously, between them. Staring, as if transfixed, at the contents of that bowl...
It did look... sort of soft. It had a very thin, yellowish patina, coating the surface of most individual pieces. Something the auror had assured him was nothing more sinister than a smidgeon of butter and some salt. A small smattering of powdered black pepper had been added, at the last second, to the whole thing. Potter, apparently, having remembered: from whichever forgotten memory he'd lifted the information off Severus's own mind, that he had a penchant for the flavour.
He wondered what it'd taste like. It looked... too strange to be anything other than sweet, and he shuddered at the thought of some sort of salt-peppery mint ball, or some other kind of even more unthinkable atrocity, along those lines!. A sudden flashback to Albus's blissful enjoyment of those disgusting lemon drops of his, brought an unwanted volley of pain-filled memories to his battered heart, and he felt himself pale. No matter how wonderful the smell of it might be... he decided, in that second, to avoid the thing altogether!.
Potter's hand chose that very moment to grab a handful of it, though, and the contrast between that tanned skin and the almost snow-white perfection of the puffs, struck him as quite beautiful, for some reason... His eyes became glued to those fingers. Focused on them, so intently, that he didn't notice it, when their owner turned around to stare at him questioningly.
' Severus? '
He startled as he heard his name being called. His gaze rose, cheeks tingeing with a slight rosy colour, at being caught staring so... gormlessly!. He could not explain, even to himself, this odd fascination he was having with the corn!. How could he possibly explain it to the gryffindor?.
There was a very odd look in those green eyes. The very air around them seemed to have thickened, and he could not understand why his blood was pounding with force enough to make him breathless!.
He was mortified by the inexplicable... strangeness... of the whole situation and he squirmed in his seat, deeply uncomfortable.
' I... I am sorry, Mr. Potter. I seem to be unusually... enthralled... with this popcorn of yours! '
The film continued to play, across the huge screen, as the boy seemed to measure him, in the sickeningly tense silence that followed his embarrassed attempt at an explanation. Huge green eyes blinked slowly. They darkened steadily, visibly becoming more and more intense. Frighteningly focused. Worthy of a snake charmer...
Severus felt suspended within the moment. Snared. Afraid... He couldn't rationalise what was happening. Why it was happening, and the whole situation became inexplicably fraught with all kinds of invisible dangers, that he felt compelled to escape!.
His trembling right hand shot out, to grab the armrest of the sofa: in preparation to help haul himself up into a standing position. He was intending to find refuge, for a second or two, within the relative safety of the kitchen, when the boy's own hand suddenly stopped him. Tanned digits curled around his thin wrist, with a strength that tried to be gentle, even though it was actually succeeding in restricting his freedom of movement!.
' Where are you going, Severus? ' The boy's tone was roughened, with some kind of deeply felt emotion. It was not anger. No. But it wasn't happiness, either. What it was, though, Severus could not tell. For he had never encountered it before reflected in the voice, or the eyes, of anybody else!...
His throat dried as if he'd walked through the desert, all afternoon long!. He was truly spooked now, and soon it became obvious to him that his alarm showed on his face. Potter looked at him intently. Calloused thumb rubbing, soothingly, against that spot in his inner wrist where his pulse was pounding wildly!. Thick eyelashes veiled, in a kind of rhythmic harmony, the utterly riveting expression that had appeared within those darkened green eyes!.
He was so busy freaking out, that he didn't even realise he had started trembling, until the gryffindor frowned. ' Severus, are you cold? You are shaking like a leaf! '
He looked down, then. Frowning at himself. He could feel his face flaming with embarrassed confusion. He couldn't understand his odd reaction. He was bewildered at himself. Unbalanced. He was in need of... a reprieve!.
He attempted to tug himself free of the boy's contact, but the fingers that held him seemed to have turned into steel!. Potter's other hand dropped it's handful of fluffy popcorn, back into the bowl, before lifting the whole thing away and placing it, firmly, on the coffee table.
The auror turned fully towards him, then. Emerald gaze gentle and concerned. Wide chest agitated, with an anxious kind of very shallow breathing. Dark hair wild... Both his arms were seized carefully. Wide palms settling over the thick cloth of his dark shirt, to burn an excruciatingly warm path of sheer fire, all along the outer lines of his thin forearms. And arms. And shoulders!...
He realised, dimly, that the other man was attempting to... calm him!. But his actions were so uncomfortably intimate that he was only compounding Severus's discomfort!.
It was a strange and... utterly alien situation to find himself in!. Normally he would have freed himself, from the unwanted contact, with a cutting reply and a satisfyingly delivered punch to the nose of his bold... aggressor!. He'd never been held thus by a friend before!. Not really. Not beyond a manly pat to the shoulder, or two...
Albus had indulged in a few hugs now and then, usually around Severus's birthday. Or Christmas, every year. Luc tended to be... mostly unconcerned with the whole touchy-feely thing, and Draco... Draco was very tactile, of course. But he was also the person Severus felt most comfortable with, in all the world!. He'd never had to analyse his godchild's actions. He'd never had to suspect, or interpret them!. Nor had he ever found himself in the situation of needing to actually attempt the harrowing ordeal of adapting his own behaviour to them!.
This was Potter, though. POTTER!. He was attempting to forge a friendship with the man!. He couldn't possibly reject the auror's friendly attempt at... consoling him!, no matter how unhelpful it turned out to be!. So he stiffened, and endured the contact, with a stoic kind of resolution that, almost immediately, had the undesired effect of turning his whole body into rigid, unpliable stone!.
The boy's hands settled on his shoulders. Deep green eyes searching his own for something that he wasn't even sure he could deliver. Explanations for his utterly bizarre behaviour were truly beyond him at the moment!. Disconcertingly, though, Potter seemed to understand exactly what was going on. He appeared to be calm enough, for once. In control. Perfectly at ease with the whole unusual situation. With Severus's own reactions to it, by the look of things!.
' You don't know what's happening. Do you, Professor?. You are totally petrified!. Your heart is going a mile a minute and your palms are sweating. You've got the look of a man about to die of sheer terror and your eyes are so confused that is killing me to watch you flounder like this!. You are afraid, but you don't know why, and you can't bring yourself to trust me enough to lean on me! Do you? '
He was astonished at the accuracy of that softly spoken summation of his current state of mind. He'd have been far more grateful if all that insight had come with the, even more helpful, realisation that he needed some space to... sort himself out!.
Potter, as usual, was singularly blind to any option that included offering him distance!. He attempted, instead, to push him out of the comforting boundaries that had always dictated his behaviour, and decided to come even closer!. Muscled arms surrounded his slight figure suddenly, and pushed him, insistently, against that wide and disconcertingly strong chest, with a gentle and careful pressure!.
He resisted. Utterly flustered. Unable to bring himself to accept any further physical... intimacy!... with the man!. He was not a five year old in need of a fatherly hug!. He was a grown up man of forty!. He couldn't believe that he was, actually, having a bloody nervous breakdown because of a fluffy, perfectly inoffensive-looking, mountain of popcorn!.
He glared at the boy with enough venom to find himself reluctantly released and, then, glared at the yellow bowl that contained the cause for all this... drama, with even more poisonous displeasure!. The thing sat there: on the table, within arm-reach of him, and he suddenly could not stand the thought of how ridiculously he was behaving!.
He'd faced VOLDERMORT!, for Salazar's sake!. He was being beyond stupid about this... muggle snack!. What must Potter be thinking of him, now?. The boy must surely be wondering what kind of nutcase he'd decided to harbour in his flat, and offered his friendship to!. He must, now, be totally convinced that he'd wasted, four long years of his life, trying to bring an absolute madman back to consciousness!.
He almost growled, in vexed exasperation with himself, and his hand rose, determinedly, towards that bloody bowl of fluffy nonsense!. He grabbed a single, surprisingly hard, piece and attempted to squish it, between thumb and forefinger. To his further bewilderment, he discovered then that the thing was not yielding!. It remained firmly un-squished!.
He frowned down at it. Brought it up, towards his face, and examined it closely. The rich aroma, emanating from the treat, made his mouth water. But still he doubted. He was abnormally suspicious of it. It just looked so... odd!.
Beside him, Potter chuckled, and his attention shifted focus once again. Black eyes clashed with bright emerald, and he discovered that the strange and discomfiting tension that had risen between them seemed to have vanished!. There was nothing, at all, puzzling about the gryffindor's expression now: it showed crystal-clear amusement!. The kind that came with a bright smile and a slightly indulgent air to one's gaze. The kind that told him that nothing was wrong with their... friendship!, regardless of how weirdly he'd behaved this evening...
' Go on, Severus. Try it!. I'm almost sure you are going to love it! '
He responded to the barely-there challenge he'd perceived in the words. To the devil-may-care attitude he saw, so clearly, reflected in those eyes. To the smile curving those lips, into a rose-painted expression of reassurance.
His spindly fingers rose, towards his own lips, slowly. So very, very slowly, that it seemed as if time itself had stopped. He was barely able to blink. Widened black eyes lost to everything around him, except the ever-darkening intensity slowly appearing, once again, within the verdant pools of his companion's gaze. The more he looked into it, the more nervous he felt!. But also... the more certain!.
There were frantic butterflies fluttering, wildly, inside his belly. There were wild horses pounding through his veins!. There was a breathless, thickened, almost otherworldly, lassitude filling his mind. His body. His whole consciousnesses, with not a though or fear. With nothing but the emotions and sensations that anchored him firmly to this time and this place. To this company. To this moment...
The white kernel in his hand reached his lips, finally!, and he popped it past them, with a small sense of trepidation. Potter looked on, bizarrely still. Transfixed even, but he didn't have much time to ponder on the reasons for the child's obvious entrancement. Not after the single piece of heaven, he'd just placed in his mouth, started to regale his taste-buds with the glory of it's incomparable flavour!
He could not believe how wonderful it tasted. Dear Salazar!. Why had he never discovered this... amazing, wondrous thing before this moment?. His eyes widened first, in shocked reaction to the incredible sensations he was experiencing. Then they closed, instinctively, when he lifted his head up slightly: long neck exposed and Adam's apple bobbing, as he rolled the piece of popcorn inside his mouth, exploring the surprisingly pleasant taste of it further.
The buttery flavour had a slightly peppery sharpness, adding an absolutely exquisite counterpoint to the crunchy, delicious inner core of the corn itself!. He was barely aware of the thrumming sound of pleasure that he made, as he finally swallowed. But Potter's sudden, loud gasp, startled him enough to open his eyes, once more, and stare at the gryffindor questioningly.
Intriguingly, the auror seemed flustered, somehow. He looked inexplicably feverish. His chest was heaving, as if he'd just run a marathon, and those eyes of his were alive with something akin to a conflagration of intense, fiercely felt emotions. ' I take it that you... really, really!, like popcorn!. Don't you, Professor? ' The tone was gruff, like sandpaper, but the words were inoffensive enough and he was too busy, grabbing another handful of that fluffy goodness, to wonder what, on Earth!, was wrong with the boy now!.
' This thing is... it's just... incredible!. I can't believe you've been hiding this from me, Potter! ' He stuffed a fistful of it in his mouth and sighed, in utter bliss. Movie and friend and creepily strange tension: all of it!, was forgotten, at least for the moment, while he allowed himself to bask, in the divine pleasure that was this... popcorn!.
Somewhere near his right shoulder, Potter chuckled quietly. Soft sniggers filled the air all around him, bringing him... not worry, no. Not fear, either. But a very new and, not completely unwelcome, sense of contentment!.
He felt the boy move closer, burrowing under his arm. Hesitatingly, at first, and then, once the child realised that he was too mellow to complain about the inappropriateness of the liberty, that warm body settled itself more firmly against him. Becoming, literally plastered, all along the right side of Severus's own frame and, even having the audacity, to place that wild mop of hair squarely against his shoulder!. The bowl of popcorn came with the boy, though. So he couldn't complain much: busy, as he was, with the very satisfying task of slowly devouring the whole contents of that yellow plastic container!...
The volume of the television was turned up a few more decibels, and they returned to watching the strange shenanigans of all those aliens on the screen. Every now and then, Potter laughed. He aahhed and oohheed, too. He squirmed a bit and gave off too much heat...
All in all, that had been an incredible experience. One they had adopted, as their preferred method of spending the later parts of their evenings, once the dinner had been done with and all the dishes cleared away. Severus had even grown fond of all the odd films Potter, invariably, watched. But nothing, absolutely nothing in this life!, could compare to the unmatchable perfection of popcorn!...
' Severus? '
His name, being so very gently called, brought him back to Earth, and he blinked slowly. Dark eyes turned away, from the empty wall they'd been blindly contemplating, to settle on the speculative expression that had appeared over the auror's masculine face.
The boy was leaning against the door of his bedroom. Having obviously knocked and been... ignored, he must have opened it, in order to check on him.
He was surprised to find himself unruffled by the fact that his precious privacy had been breached in that manner. He thought the action to be actually quite thoughtful. Caring even. They were obviously becoming closer. More at ease with one another. Maybe too at ease...
' Yes, Mr. Potter? '
The green eyes danced, at the half-hearted sharpness of his tone, and a smile that was too curious for the boy's own good curved those lips: ' What were you thinking about, professor? You looked... happy! '
He was not really shocked by the question. Potter liked to ask him things. He did it non-stop, now. About everything and anything that crossed his constantly shifting thoughts. He'd grown used to the intrusion of the auror's unquenchable curiosity. It reminded him a bit of Luc, and that settled the niggling doubts that, sometimes, assaulted him about the fact that this... this thing that was growing so fast and so... easily!... between the two of them, wasn't like any other friendship he'd ever shared with another. Not at all!. It was far more unnerving!. Far more confusing!. Far more intrusive and just... plainly more intimate, than any other relationship that he'd ever allowed himself to have!
Shaking his dark head gently, in order to vanish those unsettling thoughts, he placed the book he'd been reading on the mattress, next to him. Opened pages facing down, against the covers, to mark his place without having to close the thick tome altogether.
' I was thinking of popcorn, if you must know '
Uproarious laughter exploded in the doorway, bringing his lowered head upwards once again. ' Now I'm wounded!. See what you've done?. I don't think there's anything more pathetic than finding oneself jealous of a small, and inanimate, piece of buttery corn! '
He frowned, then. Unable to feel totally comfortable with that inexplicably insinuating choice of words. Potter used sentences like that regularly. He appeared to do it... innocently enough!. But Severus couldn't, for the life of him, shake off the feeling that he was being... quite inappropriately teased!.
Swallowing down his slight discomfort, he attempted a small smile that didn't really make it to his eyes. ' But then popcorn is a heavenly thing, Mr. Potter, whereas you... you are only a gryffindor!. Feeling jealousy towards the superior things that surround you is a perfectly natural reaction. You see? '
The inelegant snort that he obtained in response, managed to calm down his discomfiture. He was unaccustomed to receive people in his bedroom. He could not shake the thought that it was somehow... indecent of him to remain seated on his bed, while the other man hovered at the door!.
He attempted to convince his prudish mind of the fact that it was seeing ghosts, were there were none!. He'd shared a dorm with another six boys, during the whole of his schooling, for crying out loud!. It mattered not that he hadn't liked that experience, either, or that he'd tended to spend as little time as possible, locked in there, as he could!. The point was that he'd been exposed to this kind of situation before. There was no need, at all!, to feel quite this... unsettled!.
' I take it your friends have left? ' He attempted to issue the question in a nonchalance tone. Reluctant, as he was, to show his use of it as a means to re-direct the auror's attention back, towards the main parts of the flat.
Those green eyes settled over him, appraisingly. ' You could have joined us for longer, you know? Ron and Hermione would have loved visiting with you properly. They see me every other day, after all!. They came all the way out here specifically to say hello to you! '
His right eyebrow shot up to his temple, in open disbelief. ' I'm certain they have better things to do than suffer through the ordeal of finding something polite to say to me!. I saw no reason to force them to do so!. I'm the guest here, after all. You have every right in the world to entertain whomever you see fit! '
Potter sighed. Tanned hand shooting upwards, to dig deep furrows through that crazy mop of hair. ' Well!. As generously fair as all that sounds, Severus, you'll have to change that attitude of yours. Eventually!. Those two have been my closest friends, since I was old enough to actually have any and, as we both grow closer, you'll have to deal with them more and more often!. I've learned to live with the Malfoys, haven't I?. They are not so bad, as long as you are not drooling over them, with that disgustingly... sappy... expression you get, whenever their names come up in conversation! '
He was startled by that utterly bizarre description of himself. ' Sappy? ME? I don't believe my face can do sappy, Potter!. It must be against the most sacred principles of nature itself! '
The auror laughed once again. A happy and comfortable sound. Contented. At peace... The smile that came his way, then, was filled with the kind of tenderness that brought a lump the size of China to his suddenly constricted throat. ' Come on then!. The visitors have left and I've finished clearing the dishes away, while you hid from polite society in this den of yours!. Now it's movie time, Severus!. Your precious popcorn is getting cold... '
Potter turned around, then, leaving the door open behind him, and started walking along the corridor, towards the main living room. Severus watched that wide shouldered frame retreat, with a strange sensation of gratitude filling his own chest to almost bursting.
This was something that he'd never had before. This was... precious to him, indeed!. He only hoped that he could continue to build on it, without stumbling. That, eventually, even the strange uneasiness that niggled at the back of his head, every now and then, would settle. That he could have this simple kind of joy in his life. For a very long time!. It wasn't too much to ask. Was it?...