Summer Challenge 14: Stars In His Eyes (General)
Title: Stars In His Eyes Author: elmyraemilie Other pairings/threesome: None Rating: General Word count: ~750 Theme chosen: Travel Warning(s): None Summary: Sure, you go to Paris for the museums and the Eiffel Tower. At least, that's why you tell people you're going. But admit it. There's another reason. A/N: Unbetaed. After a day of touring the city, a nap and a film at the Théâtre de la Gaité ("This is why we have translation charms," said Severus), there was only on thing on Harry's mind.
"I'm positively ravenous."
Even at the fairly late hour, traffic on the Avenue du Maine was fierce. Snape steered Harry across at the Rue Alain and, once they were clear of the street, replied, "As am I. It is a good thing that I have made reservations for dinner nearby."
They strolled scarcely a block, discussing the film and the vagaries of the translation charm. When Snape took his arm and stopped him at the restaurant, Harry looked at the posted menu and then up at his spouse.
"Severus, this is...wow. This is way outside our travel budget. Are you sure--"
There was a look of determination on Snape's sharp features. "I am. I put aside a bit of extra money from the custom work I took on last winter. This is a thing I very much want. And this will be your last glimpse of a menu. I have already ordered the 'eight recipes' tasting, with the house champagne."
Harry smiled a bemused little smile and went through the door Severus held open.
It was like entering another world. Round tables, perfectly spaced, covered in immaculate white cloths, were occupied by diners whose whispered conversation reflected a certain reverence for the food they were savoring. When Severus and Harry were seated, their waiter appeared, bearing two carafes of water.
"Still or sparkling?" he asked in English so gently accented as to be truly charming.
With the pouring of the water, Harry felt as though they had taken their hands off the reins. It was an experience unlike anything he had ever known. Every need was anticipated, every pleasure fulfilled. The dishes that were placed before them were tiny works of art, and of architecture; stacked, tilted, nestled or leaning, each part of every plate worked together both physically and gastronomically.
Harry had worried that he would find the meal too complex or too exotic, but after the delicious tang of the hors d'oeuvres, placed before them with a brief explanation of technique and ingredients, he let go and simply enjoyed. In between bites of the exquisite food, his eyes rested on Severus. Each course, and the wine that accompanied it, was a fresh discovery for Severus, and he explored it fully. His face was alight with interest and curiosity; he examined the dish and commented on its form before taking a bite of combined flavors, then separating the parts to taste each individually.
As they meandered toward the final course of the most memorable meal Harry had ever eaten, Severus sat back and picked up his wine glass. Harry took the opportunity.
"This has been extraordinary. I'm so glad you planned it. But Severus, you're the man who eats dry toast and tea for breakfast. Toad-in-the-hole is your favorite supper. If someone had told me you were planning this, I'd have called them a fool. Why?"
Placing his glass carefully on the table, Severus leaned forward. "Food has always been a matter of accommodation for me. In my youth, my father chose the meals and my mother cooked them. Mother had many good qualities, but cooking skill was not among them. Then I went to Hogwarts, where the food may be best described and plentiful and English. After that, I discovered what it was to eat when I could, and what I could, as I moved into Voldemort's circle."
He turned the glass on the cloth, thinking. "Some time during my potions mastery studies, I conceived the fantasy of eating a truly excellent meal in the company of someone I liked and trusted, and who liked and trusted me in return. It was a favorite dream, the white tablecloth, the attentive staff." He shrugged, an almost Gallic expression of fate. "When we planned this trip, I had the opportunity to make that dream come true."
The waiter appeared and removed their empty dishes and wine glasses. Harry waited in silence, digesting what he had heard along with his excellent meal. At last, the final bottle and plate arrived: a beautiful piece of flourless chocolate cake with burnt sugar and fresh, plump raspberries, accompanied by champagne.
Left alone with the last fine taste of the evening, Harry raised his glass. "To all our dreams come true."
Severus met his eyes and smiled. "Here and now," he murmured, and drank deeply.
(Severus and Harry are dining at Cobéa, a Michelin starred restaurant. By all means visit their website; it's some of the prettiest food porn you'll ever see. I've never eaten there--never been in France, even--but this is what I imagine it would be like.)