Snapedom

Ask Someone Who Cares


1

In an old, abandoned row house on Spinner's End, not many doors down from his childhood home, Severus Snape was packing a suitcase when a knock at the front door interrupted him. He glanced out the upstairs window, nodded to himself, and descended to answer the door.

"You've cut your hair!" were the first words out of Draco Malfoy's mouth.

"Draws less attention." Severus opened the door fully, ushering the young man over the threshold, then shut it and locked it behind him. He turned to Draco. "So you've worked it out," he said.

Draco nodded. "Your portrait still hasn't appeared at Hogwarts."

"Naturally." Severus gestured towards a plain wooden chair, one of the only pieces of furniture in the sitting room. Draco seated himself, and Severus sat on the low table across from him. "But how did you know where to find me?"

"I knew you wouldn't be at home, not if you were in hiding. Your house was the first place they'd go," said Draco. "To settle your estate--and make sure you really were dead. With your body gone missing, people've been wondering."

Severus grimaced. "Indeed."

"Potter says there's no way you--"

"Potter!"

Draco's eyes widened. "Yeah. Potter. He says you bled to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, right before his eyes. Doesn't like to talk about it, but they won't--"

"Potter--alive?" whispered Severus.

"You didn't know?"

"No." Severus slowly shook his head. "I didn't."

If Potter was alive, then how--but he had to be defeated, if Draco was here and talking about settling the estates of the dead--

"The war is over?" asked Severus.

"Oh, yeah. Over a month ago. The day you--didn't die." Draco smirked. "They're calling you a hero, the ones who aren't calling you a traitor and searching all of England to find you--everywhere but right under their noses, three doors down from your own home."

Severus nodded. Time enough later to work it all through.

"Well, Draco," he said. "I see I have no time to lose, if I have any hope of leaving England undetected. I trust I have your word to say nothing of our meeting today?"

"Take me with you."

Severus raised both eyebrows.

"I wouldn't tell anyone, anyway," said Draco. "But I don't want to stay, sir. Let me go with you."

Severus stared at the boy for several long moments. "What about your mother and father, Draco? Your future?"

"They know I want to travel," Draco answered, undaunted. "I'll send them an owl, letting them know I'm all right."

Severus leaned forward, resting one elbow on his thigh as he traced his lips absently with his index finger. "All right," he decided. "As long as you don't tell them you're traveling with me, I suppose it will do no harm."

"I won't, sir. Thank you, sir."

"We're not at school anymore. You don't have to suck up to me."

Draco smirked. "Interesting choice of words, there."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Forgive me. I thought, perhaps, you'd grown up a bit."

"When do we leave for the Continent?"

"Not Europe," said Severus, sitting upright. "America."

"North America or South America?" inquired Draco, tilting his chin.

"Unless you happen to be conversant in Spanish or Portuguese," retorted Severus, "North. Obviously."

"I've learnt French."

"That will prove quite useful, should we find ourselves in Quebec. Which, I may add, happens to be located in North, not South, America."

"Why America?"

Severus shrugged. "Because America is the place to go when one wishes to begin one's life anew," he said.

Draco sniffed. "That's so cliche."

"Then stay here in England."

Draco fell silent.

"Right." Severus nodded once. "You've got money, I assume?"

"Of course."

"Exchange it for Muggle currency. Go home, pack what you wish to bring with you. Your passport, if you have one; if not, conjure one. Muggle clothing, if you have any. Otherwise, buy some. Then meet me back here."

"Then what?"

"Then," Severus said, "we go to the airport, purchase tickets, and get the hell out of here."

"The airport!" Draco's lip curled in disgust. "Can't we find a Portkey?"

"Only if I wish to alert the entire wizarding world that the late, lamented Severus Snape is no longer late--in which case, I suspect, I should find myself no longer lamented, as well."

"We'll fly, then. Magically."

"Across the entire Atlantic Ocean?" Severus sneered. "Come, now, Draco. I've always counted you amongst my best and brightest students. Don't destroy one of my few remaining illusions."

"All right," Draco conceded. "We fly, Muggle style."


As soon as he saw Draco walking up to the house, Severus stepped outside, suitcase in hand. "Did your parents see you?"

"Mother did," answered Draco. "I told her I'm touring the Continent."

Severus nodded. "When we get to the States, you can tell her you changed your mind." He walked away from the house, and Draco followed. They walked side by side in silence until they arrived at the bus stop.

"So." Draco shaded his eyes with one hand, watching for the bus to appear. "Now I know why you never married."

Severus started. He turned slowly towards Draco, arching one eyebrow. "Oh?" he inquired. "And why is that?"

"You know."

"No. I am afraid I don't."

Draco shrugged. "Potter's mother, and all that."

Damn Potter.

Severus looked intently at Draco for a long, long time.

"I never married," he presently responded, "because I am gay."

Draco's head snapped up, his eyes wide.

"And if that bothers you," Severus added, "you are certainly welcome to leave my offensive company."

A shadow came over the boy's face. "I don't care," he said, shrugging and looking away.

"Good."

"Does my father know?"

"What do you think?"

Draco shrugged again. "I didn't think he should. He--doesn't think well of--of--"

"I know very well your father's views on the matter. And the views of the vast majority of the wizarding world. One more reason I should like to place as much distance between myself and the wizarding world as humanly possible."

Draco nodded. "I can understand that," he said, staring into the distance. Abruptly he turned to face Severus. "So what about Potter's mum?"

Severus gazed back into Draco's eyes.

"That," he said, "is none of your business."


"I hate waiting in queue."

"Get used to it." All Severus cared was that they get on the plane before anyone who knew him should chance to spot him. "Nobody in the Muggle world gives a damn that you're a Malfoy." Nor anybody in the wizarding world, these days, he silently added.

"Sir--"

"We're both adults," snapped Severus. "You can use my given name."

Draco was silent for a few moments before saying, hesitantly, "Severus."

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Draco tipped his head to one side. "Severus," he said again. A little smile played at the corners of his mouth.


"French Guiana."

Severus glanced over at Draco, seated next to him on the plane. "What's that?"

"French Guiana." Draco pointed to the map he was perusing in an atlas he'd bought at the airport. "It's in South America, not North, but I'll bet they speak French."

"Hm."

"And Haiti," said Draco. "I know they speak French."

"Do you wish to go to Haiti?"

Draco stared at the page. "I'm just saying," he said. "You said we'd have to go to Quebec to speak French, but that's not true."

"Let's begin where they speak a close approximation to English," suggested Severus, leaning back in his seat. "Then, if you feel a need to stretch your linguistic boundaries, we'll consider other alternatives."


One thing of which Severus was certain was that he did not want to settle in New York City. Some smaller city, somewhere in the vast anonymity of the middle of the continent, was where he expected to find a home. But for one night, New York City would have to do: Despite Draco's desire for luxury accommodations, Severus found them a room in a more modest hotel that still cost more than he thought it should. All he wanted was a decent bed in which, God willing, he could get the first good night's sleep he'd had in years. Muttering a "good night" to Draco, he shed everything except his vest and boxers and collapsed onto the nearest of the two beds.


Dark. It was still dark when he felt himself surfacing, rather reluctantly. Damn, how long would it take before he could sleep through the entire--

Wait. Something... no, someone...

"What the bloody hell..."

"Severus..." Draco leaned in to kiss him.

Severus twisted his head sharply to one side. "Draco, what--"

"It's all right," whispered Draco. "I want it, too. I've wanted to do this, for as long as--as I've wanted to do it!"

"Draco, get off of me!"

"Get off?" Draco smirked, and reached for the waist of Severus' boxers.

Severus pushed him away, but immediately Draco was back upon him.

"Please, Severus--"

"I've changed my mind. Call me 'sir.'"

"Severus, please--"

"Give you liberty to use my given name, and you think it gives you liberty to take liber--"

Draco's mouth clamped upon his. Severus managed to pull away, but not without a shade of involuntary reluctance.

"Draco," he said, rather hoarsely. "You're making it very hard--"

"Good."

"Draco, damn it! I'm old enough to--I've always thought of you like a--a nephew."

"I don't care."

"Well--" Severus wrested himself away. "I do." He gripped Draco by the shoulders, holding him firmly at arm's length. "Contrary to the depraved version of me which apparently inhabits your imagination, I am possessed of certain fundamental decencies."

Draco stared back at him, motionless, until without warning he wrenched himself out of Severus' grasp. "Fine," he said. "I don't care."

Severus watched as the young man ripped back the covers on the unused bed, flopped onto the mattress, and pulled sheets and blankets over his head.

So much for sleep. Severus retrieved a magazine he'd bought for the flight and settled into reading by the light of a solitary lamp.


When sunlight filtered through the curtains, Severus abandoned hope of reading himself into sleep. With a quiet sigh he set the magazine on the nightstand and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pondered the blanket-covered lump that was Draco Malfoy, sighed again, and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

The shower helped. A little.

Severus rumpled the towel through his hair and wrapped the towel around his hips before stepping back into the hotel room. Draco was sitting up in bed, staring at him.

"Yes, Draco." Severus opened his suitcase and grabbed the first set of clothes he found. "The Greasy Git of Potions does make use of the bath on a regular basis."

Draco lowered his gaze, shrugging. "I don't care."

"You don't care if I bathe?" inquired Severus.

"I don't care if they called you a greasy git," he said. "Your hair always looked clean at breakfast."

"Mm." Severus stepped back into the bathroom. "Yes, I suppose you made a thorough study of me, all those years you were, ah, wanting to?" He glanced around the bathroom door: Draco, still averting his eyes, had grown quite red in the face.

Severus withdrew. At least Draco had known, at that age, what he did want.

"Can't you use a potion?" came the young man's voice from the main room.

"What's that?" Severus began to lather his face.

"For your hair. Couldn't you've invented a potion to keep it from getting greasy halfway through the day?"

His face twitched. "I don't care," he said, forcing himself to be still as he began to shave.


They ate breakfast in their room. Severus waited until their plates were all but empty before he initiated conversation.

"So." Severus set down his fork and looked directly at Draco, who immediately looked at a cheap painting on the wall above the beds. "Now I know why you didn't want to stay in your father's house."

Draco nodded sullenly. "He'd kick me out, anyway, as soon's he knew."

Severus did not doubt it.

"And," added Draco, coloring a bit, "I wanted to be with you."

"So I gather." His mouth twisted. "Draco," he said, "let me be clear: I am fond of you; I have always been quite fond of you. But..."

"But not like that," sneered Draco in a mocking tone. He glared at the painting.

"No, Draco. Not like that."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, and sat, unmoving.

"I'd still like to have your company," added Severus, surprising himself. "At least until we both get settled."

Receiving no response, Severus shrugged and sipped his tepid coffee. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

Severus opened his eyes, and saw Draco studying his throat.

"You don't have any scars," Draco said.

Severus met his gaze. "Not physically, no," he said, and looked away.



2

"Take the rubbish out, Draco." Severus sat in the kitchen of their new rental, a small house reminiscent of the row house in which he'd spent his youth, but of more recent vintage and in much better condition. He glanced up from his newspaper and could not wholly suppress a smile.

"It's called work, Draco," he dryly explained. "Get used to it. You'll find no house elves here."

Draco shot him a sour look, but pulled the bag out of the bin, all the same. "I shouldn't have to do this," he muttered.

"Then return to England."

The back door slammed. Severus grinned.

"While we're on the subject," said Severus upon hearing the door open again, "you want to consider what you'll do for a living."

"What? I don't need--"

"Your money won't last forever, especially the way you let it pass through your fingers without a second thought."

"Yeah, well--what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What are you going to do for a living? Or am I supposed to do all the work?"

"I am looking for the answer to that, right now," Severus replied, tapping the newspaper with his finger.

"What? Let me have a look."

"Do." Severus handed him the help wanted section. "I'm sure you can find something agreeable enough for a beginning."


Severus was walking through a pleasant, tree-lined neighborhood in search of the first employment opportunity on his list, when a large hand-painted sign above a shop caught his eye:

Healing Touch Herbs and Books.

He stood there, on the sidewalk, pondering that sign for a long, long time.

"What the hell." Severus shrugged, tucked his list inside his jacket pocket, and crossed the street to enter the shop.


Severus was preparing supper when Draco burst into the kitchen.

"I have a job," he breathlessly announced.

Severus nodded. "So do I. An herbalist's shop--something like a Muggle Apothecary. And you?"

Draco sauntered to a chair and sat, draping his arm over the back of the chair. "Oh, I'll be working--if you can call it work--at a child care center."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"All I have to do is read a few stories to some little brats while their mums and dads are at work," he said. "Easy money."

"Do you think so." Severus turned back to their meal. "Set the table, please."

He did not need to turn around to know that Draco's jaw had dropped.

"Unless you'd rather eat directly out of the pots," added Severus.

There was a moment of silence, then a scuffing of shoes, followed by a grumble of, "You make me do all the work." But a moment later Severus heard the creak of cabinet hinges and the clatter of dishes. He held back a smirk.


His first day at the herb shop kept Severus busy.

"Oh, hi. You're new."

Severus glanced at the man who had just entered the shop. "Obviously."

The man grinned. "And friendly, too."

Severus opened his mouth, then closed it. "Can I help you find something?" he asked, smoothing the edges of his voice.

"Nah." If the man had been offended, he gave no sign of it. "I'm a regular. I know this place like the back of my hand."

Severus shrugged, a gesture entirely lost on the customer, who had turned away and begun scooping and weighing herbs from the large jars lining an entire wall. Severus went back to memorizing the locations of the shop's wares.

After a while, he glanced up to see the customer frowning as he searched the shelves.

"You don't know the back of your hand very well, apparently," remarked Severus.

The man laughed. "Well, there's always a few new wrinkles putting in an appearance," he said. "I'm looking for something I don't usually use... here." He thrust the list at Severus. "I don't even know how to pronounce it."

Severus glanced at the slip of paper, nodded once, and surveyed the shelves till he found what he wanted. Just in time Severus stopped himself from using an Accio. He drew up a chair, climbed on it, and retrieved the jar from the top shelf.

"We use it a lot in--England," he said, handing the man the jar.

"Really? I'd be interested in learning more about--herbal remedies in England."

"Mm." Severus glanced around the shop. "Right now, I'd say I'll have my hands full learning about the uses of herbs in America. It's--not what I'm used to."

"Really?" The man's eyes were fixed on Severus. "And how's that?"

Severus shrugged. "It's--different," he said. He strode swiftly to the other side of the shop, where another customer obviously needed assistance in browsing amongst the magazines.


That evening, over a supper of tinned soup and toasted bread, Draco suddenly looked up.

"Severus."

"Hmm?"

"What's the difference between a diaper and a nappy?"

Severus sipped a spoonful of soup. "The Atlantic Ocean." He glanced back at Draco. "I gather you had a few encounters with said object today."

Draco's face crumpled into a mask of disgust.

"Whatever you call them, they still need to be changed."

"Yes, but that's servant work! They didn't tell me I'd be--"

"Draco, are you sure--"

"You think I can't do it?" Draco glared at Severus, his eyes blazing with sudden defiance. "You think I can't manage a simple job that any stupid--"

"I said nothing of the sort."

"I can do it." Draco turned back to his supper. "Easy money."


Several days into his new job, Severus was in the back room of the herb shop when he heard a familiar voice speaking with the owner.

"Hey, I'm looking for the new guy--the quiet one, with the English accent. Is he--?"

Severus stepped out into the shop.

"Oh, hi." It was the customer from the first day. "Listen, I just wanted to thank you for your help; the--infusion worked out really well."

"Good." Severus nodded. "Is there anything else I can help you find?"

"No, not really. Just wanted to say thanks."

"You're welcome."

The man grinned, something he seemed to do quite a bit. "Name's Matt, by the way. And you?"

"Severus."

"Severus. That's an unusual name."

"Yes."

Matt looked at him steadily, as if waiting for an explanation. When none was offered, he shrugged, grinned again, and said, "Well, I know you've got work to do. See ya, Severus."

Severus nodded and turned, retreating into the back room. Reaching for a bag of dried nettle leaf, he paused. See ya, Severus. Shaking his head, he got back to work.


"Here." Walking into the kitchen after work, Severus set a bag containing paper and pens on the table in front of Draco. "Quills and parchment are, I'm afraid, not readily found in Muggle shops, but I can show you how to use--"

"I already know how." Draco tore open the packet of pens and removed one. "I've been using them at work."

"Of course." Severus left Draco to his writing and began to prepare the evening meal.

By the time supper was ready, Draco had finished his letter. He rolled it tightly and tied it to the leg of his owl. "He'll be all right?" asked Draco, glancing up at Severus. "All the way to England and back?"

Severus gave a clipped nod. "I daresay he could find Malfoy Manor in his sleep, even from here." He set his plate and Draco's in their respective places and seated himself. "So what did you write?"

Draco stood and carried the owl to the back door. "Just that I decided to have a look round America, and that I'm slumming amongst the Muggles till something better comes along."

Severus snorted. "Nothing more specific?" he asked.

"No. Nothing about you. And nothing about wiping the bums of little brats." Draco opened the door, murmured, "Malfoy Manor," and set the owl free. He closed the door and sat down across from Severus.

"I just want them to know I'm all right," said Draco.

"Naturally."


Severus spent his free time immersing himself in reading books he'd got from the herb shop: herbal remedies, holistic health, alternative healing practices, all from a Muggle perspective. He wished he had brought his Spinner's End library with him, to compare wizarding knowledge with Muggle, but of course he could not have emptied out his entire collection without raising suspicions amongst those who would prefer him to be dead. The few volumes he had selected to bring along would have to suffice; in any case, wizarding potions ingredients were considerably more difficult to find than the herbs and roots readily available in the Muggle shops for "natural" remedies. So he set himself to the task of learning these Muggle ways of "alternative" healing, with an eye towards subtly integrating them with his magical knowledge.


"Matt." Severus nodded.

"Oh, hey, Severus." Matt started to putter around among the herbs, then stopped short, wincing.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," dismissed Matt. "I've got this knot in my neck and shoulders, been pestering me for a few days."

"Come here." Severus beckoned, and Matt, after a moment's pause, stepped over to him. "Turn around," said Severus. He lay his hands between Matt's shoulders and neck. "Trust me," Severus added, noting the sudden tension. "I'll be careful."

Matt laughed nervously. "As long as you don't crunch and mangle me into worse pain than I started with."

"I'm not going to 'mangle' anything. It's a... holistic technique. Energy work, you might call it."

"Like Reiki?"

"Mm. Something like that."

Severus glided his hands over the muscles, concentrating first on finding the source of the pain and then, with several passes of his hands, gradually unweaving the knots. Quietly he crooned a wordless tune to reinforce the work of the silent spell.

"Well?" he said when he was done.

"Wow." Matt rotated his shoulders, then his neck, and turned around to face Severus. "Wow." He grinned. "So, you're one of us, then."

Severus started. "What? Gay?"

"No. Are you?" Matt's eyebrows rose. "Not that it matters. I just didn't know--but, hey, it's cool with me."

"Some of your best friends are gay," Severus sardonically finished for him.

"Well--yeah. Actually." Matt nodded. "I should introduce you to him--if you're not already taken."

Severus snorted.

"Really. I mean it. I think you two'd get along."

"So what, exactly, is 'one of us?'" asked Severus.

Matt fell silent. He glanced about the shop, which had no other customers at the moment. Turning towards the herb shelves, he held out both hands and said, "Accio, mugwort."

The large jar of dried herb flew into Matt's hands. Matt turned to Severus and winked.


"Well, Draco." Severus threw his denim jacket on the nearest chair and flopped onto the sofa, stretching his legs along its length. "I learned something new today. American wizards and witches go to Muggle schools."

Draco regarded him with the same expression he'd previously reserved for dirty diapers.

"Isn't that interesting?" Severus smiled, briefly, and reached for a book on North American plants.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" queried Draco with ill-concealed disgust.

"What do you mean?" asked Severus, paging through the book.

"What do I mean! I mean--Muggles." He spat the last word, rather forcefully.

Severus brushed invisible drops of spittle from the page. "In case you haven't noticed by now, Draco, we have to learn to live amongst Muggles--or the nonmagical, as I am told Americans prefer to say."

"Yeah--but--but--that's only--I thought it was only because we were avoiding the wizarding world!" The note of panic in the young man's voice was very real. "So you wouldn't be found."

"Oh, I doubt anybody'll be arsed to come seeking me over here," Severus said, more languidly than he really felt it. "As long as I'm out of the picture, I'm sure they'll be quite content to give me up for dead."

"That's not right."

Severus slowly closed the book and set it on his lap. He turned, fixing his eyes intently on Draco's.

"I am alive," he said, so softly he could scarcely hear himself. "I am alive. And well. And content. Or learning to be."

He held Draco's stunned gaze a few moments longer, then turned back to reading about the herbs of North America.


"You really should meet that friend of mine."

Severus shrugged, pointedly avoiding looking at Matt. "Then let him come here and introduce himself."

"Are you kidding?" Matt laughed. "He's even more shy than you are."

Severus snapped up, glaring. "I," he said, "am not 'shy.'"

"Whatever." Grinning, Matt walked away to poke amongst the gemstones.


"My owl's back." Draco held up a piece of parchment. "Mother and Father made a point of telling me--" He looked back at the letter in his hand. "'You will undoubtedly be very interested in knowing that Professor Snape was cleared of all charges and awarded, posthumously, an Order of Merlin, First Class, for his heroic service in the war.'"

Severus started to laugh, softly, shaking his head.

Draco started. "I thought you'd be happy to hear it," he said.

Severus could only continue to shake his head. He tried to speak, then, failing, merely waved his hand in dismissal. Draco frowned, and Severus, finding his voice, finally said, "Shall we order a pizza for supper?"


While Severus pored over a book of crystal and stone lore, Draco penned another note to his parents. "Rather a shame," said Draco, "that I can't tell them you aren't really dead."

"I think they've worked it out," said Severus, turning the page.

"What?"

Severus looked up at Draco. "You surely realize that little note about the Order of Merlin was not written for your benefit, alone?"

Draco gaped, then clamped his jaw shut. "Of course," he airily dismissed, turning back to his writing.


"You know what you should do."

Severus glanced warily at Matt, who hovered nearby while Severus filled the herb jars. "Date that ruddy friend of yours?"

"Well, that too." Matt grinned. "But I was talking about work, not pleasure."

Severus rolled his eyes and turned back to his herbs.

"You should start doing healing work."

Frowning, Severus rolled one bag tightly closed and opened another. "Why?"

"Because."

Severus emptied the bag of artemisia into its jar. "I can't argue with your logic."

"Because you can, and because you can do it well, and because--" He leaned in close to Severus and finished under his breath, "Because it's a damned good way for a wizard to make damned good money in the wider world, with nobody being the wiser."

Severus shrugged. "I like working here," he said, thereby shocking the hell out of himself.

"You can do both," said Matt, undaunted. "They have all kinds of healers and stuff right here at the store, in case you haven't noticed."

He had noticed, but until that moment Severus hadn't considered that it might have anything to do with him.

"I had considered making use of my knowledge in potions," Severus said to Matt.

"You can do that, too. Hell, what the hell do you think I'm doing with all these herbs?"

Severus jerked his head to stare at Matt.

Matt, as usual, grinned. "What they don't know won't hurt 'em," he said.


Severus and Matt often discussed potions, in between visits by other customers to the shop. It was from Matt that Severus learned more about the American wizarding world, at least that part of it in their part of the Midwest; and it was from Matt that he learned that the American wizarding media had said next to nothing about England's war, reducing the entire war against Voldemort to a blurb or two squeezed amidst American celebrity gossip and sport scandals. It appeared that the name Severus Snape was as unknown to American wizards and witches as it was to American Muggles. Severus began to relax and turn his attention more towards his future than towards his past. He looked forward to his ongoing conversations with Matt, except whenever Matt tried to convince Severus to go out with that damned friend of his.


"C'mon, Severus."

Severus slapped a book into a gap on a shelf. "I'm not interested."

"And how the hell would you know, until you meet him?"

Severus ignored Matt and pulled another book out of the box from which he was stocking the shelves.

"What, have you taken a vow of celibacy?"

Severus glared at Matt. "Fuck. Off."

Matt, damn him, grinned that infuriating grin. "That was the idea."

"Get the hell out of my store."

"Right." Matt saluted and spun around. "Later, Severus," he sang out, letting the door slam behind him.

Severus scowled at the box of books.


"I'm not eating at home tonight," Severus announced as he burst into the kitchen and clipped past Draco. "I trust you can fend for yourself for one meal?"

"What--?"

"I'm going out." And with that, Severus shut the bathroom door and started the shower.


The morning air was crisp as Severus sauntered home, the rising sun brilliant upon his face. He whistled as he stepped lightly along the sidewalk, and couldn't help but release a lazy grin as he opened the kitchen door and entered the house, to be greeted by the scowling visage of Draco Malfoy.

His grin broadened.

Draco's lip curled. "You slept with a Muggle."

Severus walked over to where the young man sat, arms crossed, and leaned on the kitchen table to look him in the eyes. "Yes, Draco," he said. "I slept with a Muggle. And do you know what?" Severus grinned again. "He wasn't the first."

Draco looked as if he would be sick.

"All of my lovers have been Muggles. All of them." Severus gazed a moment longer, then drew up a chair and sat across from Draco. "Not that there were all that many of them," he admitted. "The last one, though--we were together for nearly four years, as often as we could be. Then the Dark Lord returned."

Severus fell silent, looking out the window above the sink.

"I had to break it off," he went on quietly. "I didn't dare--it damned near killed me. I hope it didn't kill him." He sighed. "I was tempted to Obliviate him, but that should have been even more cruel than leaving him with only remembrances." Severus looked sharply back at Draco. "So don't you dare begrudge me a bit of happiness, now that I have hope of it again. Go out and make your own happiness."

"With a Muggle?"

"You were willing to sleep with me," retorted Severus. "I'm half-Muggle. In case you've forgot."

"That's different."

"Rubbish."

"I don't care."


They did not speak again about Severus' dating life--which, Severus dryly thought to himself, one morning at the shop, wasn't really much to speak of, anyway. Not a complete wasteland, but--

"Hey, Severus, how's it going."

"Fine." Severus looked up from a small stack of invoices as Matt breezed up to the counter, a blast of cold air following him through the door. "And you?"

"Could be worse. Could be worse. Keeping yourself busy, then?"

"Working, mostly. Reading. And," Severus shrugged, "I've been dating. A bit."

Matt's eyebrows rose. "And...?"

"They went well enough. I suppose." Again Severus shrugged.

Matt was silent for a few moments. "There's always that friend of mine," he ventured. "I can't promise anything, obviously, but--"

"I'm not interested in a blind date."

"Yeah?" retorted Matt. "And how's that any worse than dating blindly?"

"Is there anything you wish to purchase today?"

"Not really. Just saying hi."

"Hi. I'm working."

"Bye." Matt walked over to the bookshelves, whistling.


"Good morning, Draco." Severus glanced up from where he sat at the kitchen table.

Draco walked over. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at seed catalogs," answered Severus. "I'm thinking of planting a flower and herb garden, come spring."

Draco's lip curled. "A flower and herb garden," he repeated.

Severus raised one eyebrow. "You are familiar with the concept?"

"Of course I'm familiar with it! My father--but he didn't-- Look at you! Muggles! Gardens! What the hell happened to the professor I knew at Hogwarts?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "He got a reprieve," he quietly retorted. "He's been released from enduring the ongoing contempt of his peers and kissing the arses of Death Eaters--"

"You were a Death Eater, too!"

"Not for long." Severus drew his mouth tight.

"Long enough," Draco shot back. "I thought you were, all the while. That you really believed in it. That you really were--" He stopped short.

"A rotten bastard?" Severus finished for him. "Sorry to disappoint."

The boy's nostrils flared. "You're soft."

In spite of himself Severus smirked. "That's not what I've been told."

"Yeah, well, that's not what I was told, either! I was told that you were serving the Dark Lord! I was told--by you--that it was all an act, that we didn't need defending against the Dark Arts, that you wanted to help me succeed--"

"In killing?" His voice was cold, and low.

"Why should you have cared? That's what Death Eaters do, Severus. You should know that. You knew that when you joined them."

Severus clenched his fists. "I didn't join them because I wanted to kill."

"Oh, pull the other one! What the hell did you--"

"BECAUSE I WAS A FOOLISH CHILD WHO THOUGHT IT WOULD BRING ME GLORY!"

His roar echoed throughout the little kitchen.

Draco stared back at him. Severus had never seen the boy's face so white.

Without a word, Draco grabbed his coat and stalked out the door into a flurry of snow.


Whistling, endless whistling, shrieking, howling...

Severus glanced at the living room window, its curtains drawn tightly against the storm. Severus tried to concentrate on the book he was reading, but it was after eight and Draco still hadn't got home. He hoped the idiot hadn't chosen this night to try his luck amongst eligible Muggles. Then again, he hoped that was all it was.

Sighing, he turned back to his book.

Would it have killed him to call? They had put in a telephone. It wasn't that difficult to use.

Severus turned the page.

Was it his doom to be perpetually looking after imbeciles? He'd done his duty for Potter, only to have taken on the burden of Malfoy. At least he liked Malfoy--

"Even if not that way." In spite of his irritation, Severus felt the corners of his mouth soften, just a little.

Poor git. Poor lost, confused git. Of course he had to be there for him, be the guide that he himself had never--

Severus slammed the book shut and threw it on the floor.

Then, after a few moments of staring into the room, he leaned over and picked it up, paging through till he found his place.


And how many have you watched...

Severus... please...

Those I could not save...

Severus... please...

Dumbledore... damn you...

Severus... please...

Charity... damn it...

Please...


"Severus... please... Severus..."

Severus snapped awake, staring into the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Severus?"

He closed his eyes and turned away.

"Severus. Please."

His shoulders jerked.

"C'mon, Severus. Tea?"

Severus rubbed his closed eyelids with the tips of his fingers. Finally, he nodded, and let his hand fall away.


"What was it?"

Severus stared out at the night. "What was what?"

"Severus."

His shoulders twitched.

"You were talking in your sleep," prompted Draco.

Severus glanced up sharply.

Draco's eyes were on him, concerned. "You were saying, 'Don't make me do it. Don't make me do it.'"

Sighing, Severus looked back out the window. "The Astronomy Tower," he said.

"Oh."

Severus listened to Draco sip his tea. The thought occurred to him that he should not have been able to listen to Draco sip his tea, not with Draco's upbringing. And then he thought what an utterly stupid thing that was to be thinking about.

"I was really stupid."

Severus snapped around. Draco had spoken the words towards a potted plant, and he did not move as he continued to speak.

"You were right. I was being a child. You were trying to protect me, from a dare you knew I could never win." He sneered. "I was such a stupid little git."

A few moments passed before Severus could find his voice. "You were afraid for your family, Draco."

"Yeah." He sipped. "There was that. But--more than--I wanted all the glory." The last word he spat out, along with a few drops of tea.

"You played your part." Severus raised the tea cup to his lips and let the bitter liquid roll over his tongue. He held his attention, for a moment, on the warmth seeping through his throat. "You did exactly as you were expected to do--which was probably as well. At least you didn't have to..."

Draco's head jerked around. "It was hard for you, too," he said, looking Severus in the eye.

Severus met his gaze. "Yes," he said. "It was."

Then he had to turn away, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Severus."

Severus flicked one hand.

"Don't," protested Draco, with a hint of a whine. "I'm not a child, anymore."

Severus snorted. "That is true."

"I don't mean that," said Draco, snorting in turn. "Merlin... How do you bear with me?"

Severus shrugged. "As I said before, I've always been fond of you, Draco. Ever since you were a baby." He poured more tea into his cup. "And," he went on, "it's not as if I never made a fool of myself in these matters." He glanced over at Draco, who was studying him intently.

"Potter's mother," he said, looking as if he only just dared to say it.

Severus sighed. "She was my friend. My only friend, until I got to Hogwarts. She was impressed with me! I had damned little else to offer her, but I knew about magic. I was the first to introduce her to her place, her true place in the world." He sipped his tea. "She looked up to me."

Only the sound of the tea pot softly clinking the rim of Draco's cup broke the silence.

"Then," Severus quietly went on, "we got to Hogwarts, and I wasn't special anymore."

He drank the rest of his tea and set his cup on the table. "The more she pulled away, the more I wanted to pull her back--to be special again. Admired." He drew a sharp breath. "I wanted her to love me. Especially as I grew older, I had to prove that I could win her love. That I wasn't--what I thought I was becoming. And when she chose--didn't choose me--I thought I could win her back by impressing her, as I impressed her in the beginning: with magic. Stronger, better, more powerful magic." He grimaced, staring at the stains in the empty tea cup.

"When I heard you were dead," said Draco, barely above a whisper, "I wanted to kill myself."

Severus glanced up. "I'm rather glad you didn't," he said.

But Draco wasn't looking at him. Head bowed, his attention was fixed on the fading mark on his arm.

"They fucking lied to us."

Without moving his head, Draco looked up. His eyes glinted.

Severus nodded.



3


"Hi, I'm looking for--Severus?"

Severus arched one eyebrow. "You've found him."

"Hi," the man said again. He smiled. "I'm a friend of Matt's."

Severus began to debate which hex he would use first upon Matt. Matt was a fellow wizard; it would be a fair fight.

"He was telling me you do some kind of energy work, for, uh, healing, and rebalancing the body, and all that."

"I see." Severus held back a sigh of relief, regarding the man with cool composure as he replied, "Something like that. Yes."


Within twenty-four hours Severus had been added to the schedule as an "Energy Worker" at Healing Touch Herbs and Books.


"What're you listening to?"

"Music for healing," answered Severus, not moving from where he lay, eyes closed, upon the sofa. He listened to Draco walk across the room, heard the click of plastic as Draco picked up the CD case, waited while Draco presumably read the back cover.

"By Muggles?" said Draco, his tone more incredulous than derisive.

"By Muggles," Severus calmly echoed, folding his hands behind his head.


Books about music theory and composition joined the books about herbs and holistic healing in Severus' rapidly growing library at home. His skills at "energy work" were already more than sufficient to impress the growing number of customers referred to him by the infernal Matt, but Severus knew there was still more for him to learn. Draco oftentimes came home from work to find Severus poring over several texts, jotting notes on staff paper and humming tunes quietly to himself. Increasingly, Draco began to take over preparing the evening meal, without even being asked to do so.


Late one morning, Severus stopped by the child care center where Draco worked. He caught the eye of Marlene, the director, and started to speak, then quickly closed his mouth: In a corner on the far side of the room, Draco cradled several toddlers in his arms, somehow managing to keep a book propped in his hands while doing so. One of the children said something, tapping the page, and the look Draco gave the child was so tender that Severus felt as if he were intruding.

Severus hastily stepped back, out of Draco's line of vision, and motioned to Marlene to follow. She spoke with Severus briefly, then went back into the main room.

In a few minutes Draco was approaching the entryway. "Yes, Severus?" he drawled, looking utterly bored.

"I thought, perhaps, you should like to join me for lunch," Severus answered.

Draco shrugged, nodded, and got his coat.


"Was there anything in particular you wanted?" asked Draco, lazily studying the cafe menu.

"Lunch," answered Severus.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Learned that from the children, did you?"

Draco shrugged.

"No," said Severus. "Nothing in particular. I just thought you might wish a reprieve from being surrounded by brats."

"Mm." Draco shrugged again. "They're not that bad, I guess."

With effort Severus kept a straight face. "Even so."

They placed their orders, then seated themselves at a table in a far corner.

"Can you teach me how to heal with music?"

Severus regarded Draco pensively. "I can do that," he said.

"Good." Draco was looking at what passed for artwork on the cafe walls, but his face betrayed how pleased he was with Severus' response. "It'll be useful at work, to be able to heal all the little bumps and bruises and scratches without doing anything--odd. Little brats," he added quickly, sharpening his tone.

"Of course."


A couple of weeks later, Severus had another request from Draco.

"Say, Matt," inquired Severus, next time the man visited the herb shop. "Can you tell me how one goes about applying to university in this country?"

"Meaning how a wizard or witch with no nonwizarding credentials goes about applying to the university?"

"Yes. In particular, a wizard whose education took place in an exclusively wizarding environment. He can't very well present a diploma from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to Muggles."

Matt laughed. "No, he can't. Well, let's see." He pondered the rows and rows of jars of herbs. "I couldn't tell you myself, but there are some who send their kids to private wizarding schools, and they must work it out, somehow. I could ask around."

"Thank you."

"What about that friend of mine?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Is he a wizard who went to a wizarding secondary school?"

"Not at all. Total Muggle, as you would say."

"Then I fail to see how he can help answer my question."

Matt grinned.


One night, after closing the shop, Severus came home to find Draco working intently on a potion.

"Supper's in the fridge," said Draco, keeping his eyes fixed on his work.

"Thank you." Severus walked over to the refrigerator and retrieved his meal. "What are you brewing?"

"Diaper rash salve." Draco frowned at the cast-iron pot which served as a cauldron. "For the brats."

"I see." Severus vented the dish and popped it into the microwave oven--a contraption he still did not entirely trust--and allowed himself a nice, broad grin.


When it came time to plant the garden, Severus was not entirely surprised when Draco silently knelt by his side and began to share in the work.


"How goes the garden, Severus?"

"I expect it shall thrive, Matt, in spite of the weather in this place."

Matt laughed. "It'll be worth it, to have, uh, more specialized ingredients on hand."

"True. Especially with Draco's renewed interest in potions. He spends more time in the kitchen than I do, of late."

"Really?"

"Yes. He also wanted me to plant pumpkins." Severus snorted. "I told him I'd had enough pumpkin juice for one lifetime."

"Pumpkin juice?" echoed Matt.

"We drank it every damned day at Hogwarts."

"I think I'll stick with pumpkin pie."

"It's a wonder we didn't all end up as orange as pumpkins ourselves, from sheer excess of beta carotene."

"Well, you were looking a bit jaundiced when you first got here."

"Fuck you."

"You're talking to the wrong guy." Matt grinned. "Now, Eric, on the other hand--"

"Eric," spat Severus. "Your token gay friend?"

"Nah, he's never smoked weed in his life."


Severus was pondering all of the ways it might be possible to prevent Matt from returning to Healing Touch Herbs and Books, at least at the times Severus was working, when he opened his kitchen door and discovered a young man sitting in conversation--close conversation--with Draco at the table.

"Oh. Ah. Severus." Color rose in Draco's face. "Severus, this is Jeremy. Jeremy, Severus."

Severus raised one eyebrow.

"We were just getting ready to go out," said Jeremy, rising hastily.

"Don't mind him." Draco pulled Jeremy back down onto his lap. "He acts like a complete arse, but his heart is pure marshmallow."

Severus smirked. "Don't make me bring out the pink fluffy bunny slippers," he intoned as he slipped out of the kitchen.


"Hi, I'm looking for Severus."

"You've found him."

In just four months, Severus had established enough of a clientele that he could live comfortably on the income from his healing work. He continued to work in the shop, nevertheless, where his extensive knowledge of herbs and healing was much in demand by the customers of the shop--including not a few witches and wizards who were referred to him by name by Matt. Nearly a year after he had been given up for dead, Severus was thriving, with every prospect for a prosperous future.


"Draco, you look as if that letter is about to jump up and bite you."

Draco shook his head, as if shaking off sleep. "It's from Mother," he said. "I mentioned, in my last letter, that I'd begun seeing someone. And she wrote back: 'Is he a pureblood?'" Draco looked up from the parchment in his hand. "He. How did she know?"

Severus pulled up a chair across from Draco. "Mothers have a way of knowing these things," he said. "What does your father have to say?"

"Mother said it's best not to say anything to him."

"Naturally." Severus snorted.


His future was looking bright, in every area except one.

He'd been a coward. Hadn't had the courage to break it off decently, face to face. Thomas had sensed it, their last time together, had kept looking to him, offering him a silent invitation to speak openly what he was holding back. But he hadn't spoken, hadn't wanted to leave, hadn't wanted to say good-bye...

"Severus?"

Severus jumped. "Oh. Matt. Hello." He gave a curt nod.

Matt frowned. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes." Severus snapped a hand in Matt's direction. "How can I help you?"

"I don't believe you."

"I'm afraid I can't help you with that."

"Severus. Cut the bullshit."

Severus glared at Matt, then turned away, rummaging through the papers on the counter.

"I miss him." Severus scowled at an order form half-filled. "If I hadn't made a complete bollocks of my life, he'd be living it with me right now."

"Thomas?" Matt softly inquired.

"No, the Easter Bunny." Severus thrust the order form aside, to be dealt with later. He set about straightening the jars and pens and sundry piles of flyers along the countertop. He glanced up, saw no one else in the shop other than Matt, and snapped his wand, muttering a quick cleaning spell.

"Very nice," said Matt. "Eric will be impressed. He likes a man who knows how to keep a clean--"

"Enough."

Severus glared up at Matt, clenching his teeth.

"If, and when, I am ready to find someone with whom to share my home, and my life, I shall be perfectly capable of finding him myself, on my terms, in my own good time. I do not require the services of a matchmaker. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, I guess. All I'm saying is--"

"Don't. Do not say any more on the subject. Do not say any more about him."

Matt stared back at Severus for several seconds, then threw up his hands in surrender. "All right. I won't talk about him."

"Thank you." Severus snapped about and decided to have another go at the order form.


His conversation with Matt was still on his mind, and his thoughts still going back to his days with Thomas, when Severus was intercepted by Draco in the kitchen.

"Severus," he said. "We need to talk."

Severus glanced past Draco, where Jeremy stood waiting.

"Talk," he said to Draco.

Draco breathed in deeply. "I got a letter, the other day."

"From your mother?"

"No," said Draco. "From California."

"California?"

"California." Draco tilted his chin. "We're going there. Jeremy and I."

"He got accepted at a college in San Francisco," said Jeremy, stepping forward. "He's going to teach elementary school."

"Really?" Severus looked sharply at Draco. "Well, Draco. Best of luck to you in attempting to impart knowledge to a roomful of brats."

"You managed," said Draco. "I expect I shall, as well."

Severus held his gaze. "I expect you shall," he quietly agreed. "So when does your flight leave?"

"We're not flying on an airplane," drawled Draco. "We're using a Portkey."

"A Portkey?" Severus raised his eyebrows. "You're a wizard?" he asked Jeremy.

"Me? No. I haven't got a magical bone in my body--well, one." He glanced at Draco, who was smirking, and grinned.

Severus rolled his eyes.


"Well, Severus."

They were standing outside the kitchen door. The sun was just beginning to rise.

"Best of luck to you, Draco."

"Thank you."

The garden, thought Severus, was showing promise.

"Oh. Here."

Severus looked up. From inside his jacket pocket Draco produced a small vial. "I invented this. Add three drops to your shampoo every time you wash. It should keep your hair from getting oily too quickly."

Severus frowned. "I don't care," he said.

"I do." Draco thrust the bottle at him. "I want to know if my potion works."

Severus stared at the bottle, then, slowly, wrapped his fingers around it.

"Anyway." Draco looked away to where Jeremy was waiting at the end of the walk. "Severus."

"Draco."

Draco looked back to him. Severus gave a single nod.

"Well." Draco nodded, then turned to follow Jeremy.


It was already the middle of summer. Warm, sunny, and absolutely perfect, so of course Severus was scheduled to work that morning. He would take a late lunch, after the owner of the shop got in, and spend it sitting in his back yard. The flower and herb garden was in full bloom. Severus wished Draco were there to see it.

But Draco was happy in California, happy with Jeremy, and talking about getting married. Not that the state would recognize it, as such, but there were places in which same-sex couples could be granted a formal ceremony honoring the bonding of two lives. Severus had written back telling Draco he was very happy that he was happy, but advising him not to rush into anything. Draco had written back saying he bloody well knew what he was doing, thank you very much, Severus.

Do as you will, Draco. I don't care, Severus had replied.

Right, Severus, had come Draco's retort. I'll send you an invitation, along with instructions to Portkey.

Absently Severus ran a hand through his hair. Draco's potion had proven a success; he would have to let Draco know. He wondered whether he should grow his hair long again or leave it short. He supposed it didn't really matter.

A man walked into the shop. He drifted through the store, avoiding eye contact with Severus. He made a great show of studying the shelves of herbs, poked through the bowls of gemstones, paged through a few books.

"Can I help you?"

The man jumped. The book fell from his hands, slapping onto the floor. Face flooding crimson, the man bent over to pick up the book. He set it down on the nearest shelf.

"Um. Yeah," he said to the bookshelf. "Actually, yeah. I'm a friend of Matt's--"

No.

"--he shops here all the time, you probably know him, and, uh..."

Severus began to damn Matt to a thousand damnations in a thousand hells.

"And..."

And as Severus was debating how quickly he could send the gibbering and obviously incompatible idiot on his way, and as Severus was further debating which part of Matt's richly deserving body would be the first target for a string of horrible hexes, the gibbering idiot turned, suddenly, and fixed Severus with eyes that were steady and deep.

A smile flickered briefly. "Hi," the man began again. "I think maybe you can help me. My name is Eric, and I'm looking for..."

"Severus."

"Yeah." Eric nodded. "Severus."

Severus stepped forward and, after a moment's hesitation, held out his hand.