Secret Snarry Swap: Unenchanted Title: Unenchanted Author:cruisedirector and dementordelta Gift Recipient:isisanubis Rating: PG-13 Words: ~7,500 Warnings: None. Notes: Our recipient prompted new traditions, drinking cocoa in front of the fire, and the perfect present. This isn't quite a non-magical AU. Many thanks to our beta.
Unenchanted
"A week without magic? That's what you want for Christmas?"
Though he was prone to privately teasing Harry, Severus's eyes were too wide and his nose too wrinkled for him to be making a joke at Harry's expense. Harry felt his own smile fading. "Don't you think it would be fun, for a change?" he asked.
"Absolutely not." Severus didn't sound vehement so much as incredulous. "You grew up with Muggles. You know what it's like to have to do everything without magic -- the cooking, the washing, the transportation..."
"I've cooked Muggle-style for you plenty of times. It's not like there would be that much washing in a week. And we'd have an excuse to ride the Tube, maybe even take a boat ride up the Thames..."
It was clear from Severus's pinched mouth that this did not meet with his idea of fun. "The Thames will be freezing at this time of year and I'd be agreeing to forego warming charms," he pointed out. "But that's not the worst of it. You know better than anyone what Muggles can be like -- apart from Granger, who insists on maintaining a ridiculously idealistic view of all creatures on this planet. Without an invisibility cloak, you wouldn't even dare to hold my hand on a boat ride up the Thames."
"It's not like it was when you were growing up. Muggle attitudes are changing. Even Muggle laws. We could hold hands anywhere we wanted. And I could keep you warm." With a saucy grin, Harry winked.
"We couldn't make love at Christmas in Greenwich Park without an invisibility cloak or a warming charm, either." Severus sounded smug, as if he'd easily thought of a way of evading Harry's scheme. "So where's the fun in not using magic?"
"The fun is in the challenge of it, doing something together and maybe learning something about each other," Harry countered, seeing the smug look melting into something more cunning.
"The only thing you're likely to learn about me is how grumpy I am when I have to boil water for morning coffee," Severus said, looking obstinate.
That made Harry laugh and give his fingers a tug. "You think I don't know how grumpy you are already? Besides I'm not saying we have to -- " He waved one of his own hands between them. "Go back to caveman days or anything like that." Severus was wrinkling, well, his whole face at the idea. "We can use modern Muggle conveniences, just not magic." Something wavered, not by much, but enough for Harry to say, "We already have an electric kettle. You won't have to wait for coffee. I'll even bring it to you in bed."
"Naked?"
Knowing he'd won, but not wanting to rub it in, Harry laughed, giving his hips a wiggle. "You already know what I look like naked!" He was gratified that Severus's eyes warmed appreciably at that wiggle or at the reminder of such knowledge.
And even more gratified that Severus didn't mind that Harry had noticed, even though Severus said, "Perhaps I will learn something from seeing you bring me my coffee and try not to spill any on your bits."
"Then you'll do it?" Harry said, clutching at Severus's arm.
"If this is what you truly want, then yes, but only for a week and as long as you don't expect me to enjoy it." But he didn't object when Harry took his hand again.
"Oh, of course not," Harry said, grinning in delight.
"Why couldn't you ask for something simple like a herd of hippogriffs trained to sing The Twelve Days of Christmas?" Severus grumbled.
"I didn't know hippogriffs could sing," Harry replied. He hadn't let go of Severus's hand, and gave it a squeeze.
"Comes from that Muggle upbringing, I should say," Severus went on, still grumbling a bit. Harry was used to the grumbling and gave him a kiss on his cheek.
"Naked coffee, remember?"
They had promised to spend Christmas day with the Weasleys, the thought of which had made Severus grumble nearly as much as not using magic. So there was no point in starting until the next morning, after Harry had helped Ron clean up the kitchen while Severus and Hermione had a debate about the ethics of the Statute of Secrecy in regard to keeping simple potions from Muggles if wizards could cure their diseases. Severus never looked happier than when he was quarreling about potions, so Harry didn't interrupt.
Even though they were on holiday, he woke up early on the day after Christmas, went into the kitchen, and switched on the rarely used ceiling light switch. Nothing happened. Harry decided that the light bulb must have burnt out and determined to get a new one before evening. It was bright enough to make coffee without artificial light, so he pulled out the electric kettle and plugged it in.
Nothing happened.
All right, that wasn't really a problem -- they had a stovetop kettle too, and though they usually lit the stove with a charm, Harry was pretty sure it worked the same way as the Dursleys' had. But the burner didn't catch when he turned the knob for the gas. Harry remembered that it could be lit with a match once the gas was on, but he couldn't find any matches.
Clearly, a trip to the store was going to be necessary sooner rather than later.
Leaving a scrawled note for Severus -- Harry's handwriting had gotten messier the longer he used an enchanted quill to do the work for him -- he bundled into his coat and headed down the street. Since Grimmauld Place was invisible to Muggles, it had stood safely for many years in a busy neighborhood. Few people seemed to be about, but Harry didn't remember that it was still a holiday until he reached the nearest store and found it closed.
Bugger. Well, no matter -- the coffee shop around the corner was open, and he could figure out what to do about the lightbulb and the matches later. Since it was so early, the place was practically empty. Harry ordered large coffees for himself and Severus, reached into his pocket, and realized that he didn't have any Muggle money. Bloody hell.
"What's the matter?" asked the sullen-looking girl behind the counter.
"Forgot my wallet."
She rolled her eyes and started to take back the cups, then paused. "I s'pose I should be nice, seeing as it's Christmastime," she said, shoving the cups toward him.
At least something had gone all right that morning. With a grateful smile and a promise of undying gratitude, Harry grabbed the coffees and raced back home. Severus liked his coffee very hot and Harry didn't dare use a charm to keep this one warm. He practically forgot to strip off before dashing into the bedroom with the coffees, now poured into large mugs, singing "The Twelve Days of Christmas" -- a song that must have been written by a wizard. Who else could get all those birds into one place while there were pipers piping and maids milking?
He had hoped that Severus would just be waking, but Severus was sitting up in bed, though his scowl faded as he took in the sight of Harry naked. "I couldn't get the hot water on in the loo," Severus announced. He sniffed, his gaze finding the coffee in Harry's outstretched hands, ignoring Harry's lack of clothing.
Harry tried to remember how the utilities in the house worked, whether there was some sort of power company he needed to call to have the water piped in by Muggle methods. "I'll see what I can do," he said, crossing the room.
"Where have you been?" Severus asked, sniffing again.
"Had to run to the store," Harry explained, quickly handing over one of the cups before sitting on one side of the bed. "Didn't you see my note?"
"I saw something on the counter that looked like a Cornish Pixie had had an orgasm on a piece of paper but couldn't make out any of the contents." Thankfully he took a greedy gulp of the coffee before he could find anything else to criticize. Harry waited for the softening effect that caffeine usually had on Severus's temperament. Instead there was a bellowing sort of noise and Harry looked over in panic. Severus's cheeks were flaming red, lips pressed tightly, eyes streaming. With a pained expression Severus swallowed.
"That's bloody hot!!" he said in disgust looking at the cup as though it had personally scalded his mouth.
"Of course it is, it's coffee!" Harry looked into his own cup, fingers probing along the side. It felt the same as it had when he'd first poured the coffee out of the styrofoam cups. He took an experimental sip, nearly moaning in pleasure as the brew hit his bloodstream. "Bloody good coffee." He made a mental note to repay the counter girl at the coffee shop as soon as he could.
With a silent snarl, Severus's hand shot to the bedside table, fumbling for the wand that Harry had secured away. "No magic, remember?" Harry said when Severus continued to scrabble against the nightstand as if his brain couldn't process the absence of his wand.
"I need a cooling charm," Severus said, eyes blazing now that he'd regained the power of speech. "This is too hot for a human mouth."
"It tastes fine to me," Harry said, raising his mug to his mouth.
"What have you done with my wand?" Severus demanded, voice nearly a growl. It was needy and rough and -- as with many things that Harry had discovered with Severus -- unalterably sexy.
Trying not to shiver, Harry replied, "I put them both away so we wouldn't be tempted." He noticed that Severus's gaze was still locked on Harry's coffee cup so he proffered it, smiling as Severus reached out for it at once, trading his cup with Harry's.
"Right now I'm tempted to cast a charm to make you forget this ridiculous idea," Severus said, trying a more cautious sip from Harry's cup. The bliss on his face was gratifying.
"See, that's why I put them both away," Harry said, waiting for Severus to take another sip. "Better?"
"Immeasurably," Severus said, enunciating as though imparting an important potion ingredient. His eyes were focused when they rested on Harry. "Very well, you live another hour. Now, what's for breakfast?"
It occurred to Harry that if something had gone wrong with the electricity in the house, it not only meant that the oven wouldn't work but that the refrigerator might not either. It was possible that everything in the freezer had thawed overnight and would have to be restored with a -- no, make that tossed in the rubbish bin. "I thought I'd take you out for breakfast, since we're on holiday," he announced, wagging his hips a bit. "Though not just yet."
Finally, he'd managed to wrest a proper smile from Severus. "An excellent idea," Severus agreed in a slow drawl that went straight to Harry's cock. He took another sip of the coffee, then set it on the bedside table. "Now, get over here and let me fu -- " Abruptly Severus rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, don't tell me we're not allowed to use lubrication charms!"
This was one eventuality for which Harry had fully prepared himself. "I bought lube," he said, grinning naughtily, tugging open the drawer in the table.
"Muggle lube?" Severus peered at the tube with the same suspicion with which he'd regarded the coffee cup. "If I'd had proper warning, I could have brewed a potion that would..."
"Potions are magic." Uncapping the tube, Harry sniffed the contents and concluded that it actually smelled better than most lubrication potions, though it might just have been that he had fond memories of wanking with Muggle lube while fantasizing about his Potions professor when he'd been stuck in Little Whinging during holidays. "Don't worry, this will work fine."
With a huff, Severus leaned forward and took the tube, also sniffing at it. "If my prick gets a rash from this, you will return my wand to treat it," he warned Harry, though he squeezed a bit out and rubbed it sensuously over his fingers in a way that made Harry moan. "Now, come here."
An hour later Harry was feeling as delightfully warm and well-loved as a tame kneazle, and was thinking he might fall back asleep for a couple of hours when Severus's stomach growled. "About breakfast..." began Severus.
"Um," Harry stalled, wishing he could just summon something from the kitchen. No, he'd wanted this -- a week of living like ordinary people, depending on each other instead of on magic. "I had a thought. We could pack some things and go have breakfast in a really nice Muggle hotel. Then, if we can't get someone out to look at the hot water or the oven..."
"What's the matter with the oven?" demanded Severus sharply.
"It wouldn't light when I went to make the coffee."
Abruptly the warmth that had been wrapped so nicely around Harry slipped away. "I have an alternative suggestion," Severus announced. "I believe that we should postpone this experiment..."
"Christmas present!"
"...Christmas present, and attempt it again only after we have ascertained that the heat and water and all other necessities of Muggle life are functioning properly." Severus moved as he spoke, sliding off the bed and stretching, giving Harry a nice view of his bum as he walked to the window. "This entire project confounds me. You love magic. You announce it regularly, whenever you discover a showy charm, and you smile like a small boy with his first wand." Frowning, Severus looked out. "It's snowing. There's a bloody blizzard out there."
"What?" The sky had scarcely been overcast earlier when Harry had gone out to get the coffee. Or perhaps it had been cloudy, but Harry hadn't really paid attention. Leaping out of bed, he walked over to join Severus at the window.
Indeed, enormous white flakes were swirling in the air, making it difficult to see across the street. "I told you," Severus said, sounding rather gleeful. "I suppose we'll be snowed in with no heat or hot water. Now may I have my wand?"
"What? No!" He gave Severus a good-natured swat on his bum. "You most certainly may not. Even wizards have to deal with snowstorms now and then, certainly we are no less clever." He gestured toward the fireplace across from the bed. "And there's a monstrous old furnace in the cellar."
"Do you know how to operate either one?" Severus asked, his expression suggesting that he already knew the answer. Reluctantly Harry shook his head. Aunt Petunia had installed gas-burning logs in her mostly ornamental fireplace as she did not believe in the mess that actually burning anything would make. And their furnace had been a shiny modern one, which operated with a switch that Harry had never been allowed to touch. The one in the basement here had been converted from coal burning, but aside from that, Harry wasn't sure how it worked.
"Thought not," Severus said, "At least, not without that unlamented house-elf of yours." Severus observed the snow for a few moments while Harry braced himself for whatever argument he was about to mount to call their experime- Christmas adventure off. Giving a flick of the blinds, Severus added, "Fortunately for you, you are wildly in love with a man not unacquainted with fires of the non-magical variety."
"I am?" Harry said, blinking. "I mean, of course I am," he amended quickly before the narrowing of Severus's eyes could advance to a critical level. They rarely discussed anything like feelings, save for Harry's occasionally tossed off, "Love you." He gave a little chuckle. "Wildly."
That seemed to mollify Severus. "And I assume this one must be of the non-magical variety?"
Harry bit his lip but stood by his request. "We've come so far." Which was patently untrue, but with the uneasy truce standing, Severus didn't appear eager to challenge it.
"Very well, we need fuel for the fire. I'm all in favor of burning every scrap in Black's old room but I suppose you will object -- " Harry had opened his mouth to do just that but Severus quickly said, " -- again. So you are in charge of bringing wood up the stairs." He smirked and Harry sensed the trap closing around him. "Up all three flights from the cellar. Without using magic."
Gritting his teeth, Harry put on some clothes and trundled down the stairs. There was a woodpile in the cellar for the old cast-iron stove, though again, Harry never used the old primitive thing and it had sat cold since Kreacher had departed for Hogwarts. He picked up a reasonably sized log and groaned. Well, there were smaller ones, he reasoned. Of course he had to move some of the larger ones to get to them. Hmmm, and they were hard to balance if he wanted to take more than one up at a time.
He was breathing hard by the time he got up to the bedroom, but he'd gotten two reasonably sized logs balanced perfectly. He was going to have a big rewarding swig of coffee to celebrate the triumph of Muggle methods. Only his coffee cup was empty. He made a needy, er, questioning noise, still too winded to form actual words.
Severus, stretched out under the bedcovers, looked up, then peered at the cup in Harry's hand. "Oh that. I drank it. It was getting cold." He closed the book he'd been reading and nodding approvingly at the logs. "Excellent work. I'll need about half a dozen more."
"Half a..." Harry panted, shaking the mug as if it would crack open and produce a coffee spring.
"Dozen, yes, that's six, in case your counting skills do not extend to higher planes." Severus leaned back in the bed and opened his book again. "Perhaps you could use that wheeled device in the pantry," he added without looking up.
Slowly regaining his breath, Harry sat on the edge of the bed. "Wheeled device?" He tried to remember the layout of the walk-in pantry downstairs.
"In the pantry." Severus turned a page, still not looking up.
Trying to remember that he was wildly in love with Severus, Harry trundled back down the stairs. He dug around in the pantry, moving aside cans of food that he hoped he could open without magic. There was an electric can opener somewhere, but if the electricity really had gone off, that wasn't going to help, and Harry didn't have the faintest idea whether they had a hand-turned can opener, since there were perfectly good spells for making a lid pop off.
Indeed, there was some sort of wheeled contraption in the back of the pantry, and since Harry couldn't find an electric switch, he presumed the crank set into the wall must operate it. It took him a few moments to realize the contraption moved a pair of ropes which undoubtedly led to and from the cellar, moving a flat platform up and down. It croaked more loudly than Trevor, but it worked.
With a whoop of triumph, Harry raced down the remaining flights of stairs. He hunted around until he had found what he knew must be the platform to raise items to the pantry -- not an easy task, since it was practically dark in the cellar, the woodpile barely illuminated by the light from the single high window, and Harry didn't have a clue where they might have put a torch.
It took him several minutes to get the wood successfully stacked onto the platform, and he had to take off his jeans to tie around the pile to keep the top logs from falling off, but he was sure it was secure by the time he headed back upstairs to turn the crank to raise the logs two levels. Despite the chill, even with his legs bare, he was sweating from his exertions as he turned the crank.
Nothing moved.
Groaning, he tried again. The crank and the ropes would not budge. He had concluded that he wasn't strong enough to pull up that many logs even with the help of the wheeled device -- perhaps, without magic, he was no longer strong enough to do anything, and was precisely as worthless as Uncle Vernon had always told him -- when he noticed a set of metallic objects stacked on the shelf nearest the contraption. They were weights, he realized with another whoop of triumph, and it took him only ten minutes or so to figure out how to attach them and raise the logs to where they needed to be.
"I hope you're happy," he wheezed, collapsing on the bed as Severus sat up to survey the fireplace. "Oh. I couldn't find matches when I wanted to light the stove."
"I can light a fire without matches," Severus said so smugly that Harry was sure he must have dug out their wands.
"You promised..."
"Without matches, and without magic. I shall need shredded parchment or paper. Don't tell me you can't find that."
"I still have my fourth year Potions essays -- I can shred those," Harry shot back, reaching out to Summon his schoolwork before he remembered that he was going to have to get up again. With a groan of irritation, he forced himself up onto his elbows, then caught his breath. Severus was bending over to look into the grate, bum in the air, still as naked as he'd been when they'd made love. Sitting up, Harry slid forward reached out with both hands just as Severus glanced back to see him leering. "Or we could wait and..."
"Not until I've had some breakfast." Severus could be nearly as cross in the mornings if he was deprived of food as if he hadn't yet had coffee.
With a sigh, Harry slid off the bed and went into the next room to find his school papers. It was now mostly used as a guest bedroom when Teddy stayed over, and there were toys and books piled on top of Harry's trunk, but he soon found the horrid essays he'd been forced to write for the horrid Dolores Umbridge when she'd taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't as though Harry would really have shredded his Potions essays, even the ones Snape had marked up with errors and given Ps and Ds.
When he got back to their room, Severus was arranging the wood into some sort of arcane structure. "I'll need lots of that, torn into small strips," he told Harry, nodding at the parchment. "And your crystal ball."
"You know that's -- "
"Not for Divination. How would that help me start a fire?" demanded Severus as if Harry were a particularly slow student. "Quickly, before there isn't enough light for it to work."
Harry remembered that when they'd been young, Dudley had used a magnifying glass to make the sun burn up bugs and worms on the sidewalk. With a nod, he began shredding the despised essays, trying not to look at the comments in Umbridge's loopy girlish handwriting. When he had nearly a bagful, a sudden shaft of brightness made him glance up. Severus had arranged several of the logs in the grate and was draping the curtains open to take advantage of what light shone through, though the snow was still coming down. Already Harry could see that the metal railing outside the window was covered with it.
Even though his legs were aching, Harry went downstairs again and rummaged through the storage closet until he found the crystal ball, tossing it against his palm several times before heading back up the steps and really, why did a house in town need so many infernal staircases? Wistfully he thought of the time Ron had visited and they'd raced brooms through the whole house, up and down the stairs, chasing a practice Snitch. He must have been more out of shape than he'd realized, because he was panting again when he dropped off the crystal ball.
Severus, at least, was in a better mood, quietly singing "The Twelve Days of Christmas," though Harry hadn't remembered a line about owls a-hooting. Sprawling back onto the bed, catching his breath, he waited for the cursing that would be certain to follow as Severus tried to coax the meager sunlight to catch the dried parchment, blowing on the embers --
A whoosh and a roar of flame that decidedly did not sound like cursing met Harry's ears instead. "You promised," Harry squawked, poking his head over the edge of the bed. Severus was still crouched by the hearth, not, as Harry had expected, swearing at reluctantly burning shreds, but warming his hands by crackling parchment light.
Severus sniffed disdainfully, nodding toward the fire. "Have I not kept my promise? One fire, non-magically obtained."
"You couldn't have done that so fast without magic," Harry protested, pushing his protesting body off the bed. "There isn't even much light to refract or reflect or whatever you're supposed to do with it." The parchment was burning merrily now, catching the logs."
"I told you I was quite proficient at making fires, didn't I?" Severus said, looking so affronted -- and for a naked man, he had a had a lot of affront to be offended -- that Harry softened.
"All right," he conceded, running a hand through his hair, "I guess you really do know -- " His eyes narrowed. "What?" he asked because Severus's wounded dignity had turned smirky and that never boded well.
"At least, I know more about people with whom I went to school, who lived in this house and who smoked and kept matches hidden in their rooms," Severus said, pulling out the box of vestas from the andirons. Harry's mouth dropped open. "I got them while you were downstairs -- I forget which time."
"That's cheating," Harry said, though by now the room was warming up and he was trying not to smile.
"In what way?" Severus asked, rising and joining Harry on the bed. "Unless you count capitalizing on the discovery of phosphorus and the properties of friction." He trailed a hand down Harry's back pushing it under his shirt. "Speaking of friction..."
Harry groaned. "What, now? You sent me up and down the stairs about fifty times -- "
"I told you where the rolling device was," countered Severus.
"And you made me root around in my old school trunk -- "
"Can I help it if you're dreadfully disorganized?" asked Severus. He'd shifted over Harry's back, pushing the shirt up and sliding his hands up and down it.
"And you -- " Harry began but suddenly his pains didn't seem all that memorable in the toasty warm room with a toasty warm man on top of him.
"And I employ friction in several quite novel and inventive ways," Severus finished for him, proving it first with his fingers then with other parts of his body that left Harry quite admiring the quantity and quality of Severus's friction.
"But we still have no food," Harry groaned when he'd caught his breath, thinking that he might never want to move again, being either drained from hunger or too perfectly satisfied to care. "At least, we have no way to cook it."
Severus snorted indelicately, nodding in the direction of the fire. "You are aware that human beings cooked with fire for centuries before Hogwarts was founded?"
"Yes, but we can't open our cans without electricity and we can't make a pot hover over the fire without magic and we don't even have peanut butter. I checked in the pantry."
"Are you suggesting that it is time to retrieve our wands?"
"I'm suggesting no such thing! Just that I promised to make you breakfast, but I don't have a way to make you breakfast, and we're probably stuck here in the snow so I can't go out and get you breakfast..."
Severus put a finger over Harry's lips, effectively silencing him. "Did you happen to notice whether we had cocoa in the pantry?" he asked.
"I -- I think so." Harry remembered seeing a tin of it. He'd entertained a brief fantasy of sprinkling it over Severus before he'd remembered that it was Severus's fault he had to figure out a way to get the logs up the stairs.
"Wait here," commanded Severus, shifting and making the bed lurch. Harry caught a glimpse of fine firm buttocks as Severus sat up, then stood. "I shall fetch it."
Harry raised himself up on his elbows for a better view, though it made him groan to do so. He really thought that he might never want to move again, except possibly to spread his legs in a little while when the part of him that always recovered the most quickly from strain was eager for another go. "Don't you want me to...?" he began.
"Have you not had sufficient exercise walking the stairs today?"
Even though Severus was smirking, Harry decided that it was definitely not worth arguing. With another groan, he flopped back on the bed. "If you're sure you don't mind," he said.
He truly intended to stay awake, but the room was so warm with the fire going and the bed was so comfortable and with Andromeda and Teddy pet-sitting their owls and cat for the week, there really was no reason...
Delicious smells woke Harry from a very good dream in which Severus was chasing him around the house on a broom, then Severus caught him and it ended up not being a broom that Harry was riding. He got up on his elbows again, feeling much less winded than earlier. "What are you doing?" he asked Severus, who was sitting in front of the fireplace.
"Making breakfast." Indeed, Severus had set up some sort of metal contraption over the logs and had pots and pans balanced on it. "I put most of the refrigerated food outside buried under snow, but the bacon and eggs would have spoiled and it seemed a shame to waste them."
"I could hug you!" Harry beamed as he scooted to the edge of the bed while Severus tilted the contents of one of the pots into a mug.
"And we do have cocoa. I'm sure this discovery will astound you, but it is possible to boil water without any use of magic whatsoever."
"Don't tease me," Harry protested, though he was grinning. "May I have some?"
"May I have some, what?"
"May I have some, sir?"
The look Severus turned on him was positively wicked. "I was only trying to encourage you to say 'please.'"
Sauntering across the room with nary a twinge from either sort of exertion he'd indulged in today, Harry said, "May I have some, sir, please?"
"Only if you want me to burn the bacon," Severus said, though not without some signs of regret, his wickedness lessened only slightly as he surveyed Harry. "We'd better get some protein into you or we may both collapse from sexual depletion."
Laughing, Harry sat cross-legged on the hearth rug. "Is that possible, sexual depletion?" He inhaled some of the fragrant steam from the cocoa before taking a sip. Not too hot, not tepid. Heaven.
"I don't think it's a proper medical term but it's descriptive enough for our case," Severus said, turning the eggs in the cast-iron pan.
"Anything I can do?" Harry asked, though the question sounded languid and lazy even to himself. He was fascinated, then amazed by his own fascination with a man with whom he'd been living for several months, by the smooth efficiency Severus employed under what could charitably called primitive conditions. The bacon looked crisp and nearly even, the eggs were frying, and if this cocoa was anything to go by, they would both taste amazing.
"It will go faster if you just enjoy your cocoa," replied Severus. Harry took a satisfied sip, licking a bit of the froth off his upper lip. Severus spared him a glance, using some sort of tongs to take the heavy pan off the metal structure that housed it and slide the bacon, still sizzling, onto a platter. "Watching you cook like this would be too much like watching you attempt a potion," he said.
"And you can't watch because I was so bad at it?" Harry asked, tucking his robe around his legs.
"I can't watch because I feel even more keenly the age difference between us," Severus said, not looking at Harry as he slid the eggs beside the bacon.
Harry was quiet for a moment, letting the warm cocoa fill some of his hollow places. "I never knew it bothered you," he said while Severus set the hot metal pans safely out of reach.
"Strictly speaking, it doesn't," replied Severus, setting the tongs aside and finally taking his seat on the rug, positioning the platter between them and divvying up plates. "I've absolutely no objection to having a virile young lover."
"A virile young enthusiastic lover," Harry agreed, making what he knew to be a ridiculously oversexed face just for the pleasure of seeing Severus smirk behind his fork.
"Enthusiastic or not, there are times when I recall our pasts and -- " He shook his head, forking up and swallowing a bite of egg before continuing. "So while I might find it inexorably erotic when you call me ‘sir,' I might not want to visualize you in the same moment looking the way you did when you were in my classes."
Harry chuckled and stretched out one leg, wiggling his toes over Severus's thigh. "I'm hairier now than I was then." His robe had fallen open a bit, exposing his leg.
"And more oversexed."
"Inexorably, eh?" Harry said, keeping his toes against the fleshy part of Severus's upper leg.
"Mmmm," Severus said, munching on bacon.
"Would it help if I said I found you inexorably sexy back then too?" Harry went on, only to have Severus groan, shaking his head again.
"No, it would not," he said firmly.
Harry leaned over, brushing his lips over Severus's cheek. "Yes, sir."
"Eat your breakfast," ordered Severus, making an attempt to sound gruff, though Harry knew him well enough by now to know when he was only posturing. He chuckled.
"I suppose it's practically lunchtime. Do we have any working clocks in the house?"
"We do not, but the church bells chimed three not long ago."
"You're joking!" Leaping to his feet, with only a very faint twinge in his thighs, Harry crossed to the window and looked out. What had been a few inches of snow on the railing was now over a foot and rising steadily.
Sheepishly, Harry realized that he had taken a longer nap than he'd thought. The fire was keeping the room well-lit, but at this time of year, especially with the snow coming down, it would be dark outside soon. "It's going to be a long night," he said.
"Regretting your Christmas wish yet?" Severus peered over at Harry as he came back to the fire, already a bit chilled from standing near the cold glass.
In the orange light, Severus's face looked more angular and mysterious. Harry bent close to kiss it. "Not a bit. We can read to each other while the light holds out. And then...we've never had any trouble coming up with things to do in the dark."
"Read to each other?" Severus smirked at him. "Wanderings With Werewolves? Or were you thinking more along the lines of The Wicked Wizard of Wapping?"
"No wizards or people who knew wizards -- not even Oscar Wilde," objected Harry, having been subjected to Severus's theory that The Picture of Dorian Gray was not a tale of closeted homosexuality but a tale of a closeted wizard living among Muggles. "Don't we have any books about men in love?"
Severus made a face. "I suppose we have Forster and Isherwood. But I would rather read Muggle ghost stories." He put a forkful of bacon in Harry's mouth as Harry made a pleased noise.
"Ooh, yes," Harry said after he had swallowed the bacon. "We can hide under the covers!" Leaning over, he peered at the matches Severus had found. "We have plenty of candles. We can light them the old-fashioned way."
"Just keep in mind that if you accidentally burn the house down, you've hidden my wand, so I won't be able to put it out." Digging around, Severus produced a bag of marshmallows from the sack in which he'd brought up the food. "These are probably stale, but..."
"That won't matter if we toast them over the fire. You're brilliant!" Harry kissed his cheek again. He loved that he could make Severus blush -- though Severus himself would never call it any such thing.
"Merely practical," replied Severus, "since we have no method for keeping food fresh if the power stays off for a prolonged period of time."
"Practical, right," Harry said, pushing several marshmallows at once onto the skewer and aiming them over the low flames. "See, isn't this cozy?" he asked, scooting closer so he could lean against Severus as he warmed their treats over the heat.
Severus made a noncommittal noise, letting Harry handle the skewer, taking the gooey squares off before they melted completely and sliding them between graham biscuits, breaking the biscuits in half and handing Harry half.
"Could use some chocolate," he said through a mouthful of marshmallow.
That got a chuckle out of Severus. "You're welcome to forage through that pantry and see if you can find any chocolate your godson missed."
Harry put another skewerful of marshmallows on to melt, watching the popping embers. Severus's arm had gone around his back so they were leaning more comfortably against each other. It seemed he had always been doing something similar -- always there when Harry needed a bit of support.
"This hasn't been too bad, has it?" he asked, waiting for the second batch of graham biscuits.
"It would be better with chocolate," Severus admitted, handing over the second half, "but considering our situation..."
"I meant not having magic," Harry put in, suddenly uncertain of his request. Severus was right: he loved magic, loved the everyday life of a wizard, loved the thousands of ways it made life more fun, and loved being able to make love with a powerful wizard. And true, he'd come up with the idea of not using magic while the power worked, when the weather was fair and his wand was within reach.
Severus had turned to look at him with a curious expression on his face. He reached out a finger and rubbed a sticky spot on the side of Harry's mouth as one corner of his own mouth quirked up. But he didn't look smug, didn't suggest getting out their wands, didn't accuse Harry of changing his mind again. "It hasn't been too bad," Severus agreed, kissing the side of Harry's mouth.
With a grin, Harry said, "No wonder I'm wildly in love with you."
The other side of Severus's mouth slid up, giving Harry an openly speculative look. "We could still -- "
Harry put his fingers over Severus's lips. "We're having one of those learning-about-each-other moments. Don't ruin it."
Severus kissed Harry's fingers, looking resigned to keeping his promise. "Just don't blame me when you learn I'm not very different from the surly solitary much older -- "
Harry stuffed a marshmallow into his mouth. "I wouldn't say you were much older," he said with a grin.
" -- old enough to be your father," Severus said around the marshmallow, and Harry really couldn't argue with that, though he'd always thought his parents had been awfully young to have a baby, especially with a huge conflict about to erupt in their world.
"Fine, then, I wouldn't say solitary," he objected instead. "You moved in with me, didn't you?"
For once he got no argument out of Severus, who instead offered Harry a sticky marshmallow in turn. "You can't think I'd have done that for anyone else," he said. "Nor given up magic, even for a few days."
"I know you wouldn't have," Harry said happily.
Severus's eyes narrowed. "Is that what this is all about? A test to see whether I'll..."
"Of course not!" Reaching up, Harry rubbed at some marshmallow sticking to Severus's chin. "I don't need to test you." Frowning, he thought of all the times Severus had made him run up and down the stairs. "Do you think you need to test me? Is that why you're always going on about how you're old and surly? Because I'm --" He grinned. "I'm enchanted by you. Bewitched, even, without magic."
To his relief, Severus smirked. "I am merely pointing out the obvious. Didn't you want a learning-about-each-other moment?" With a curious look, Severus sprinkled some of the powdered cocoa on a biscuit before pressing a marshmallow over it. He took a bite. "Not as good as Honeyduke's, but acceptable," he decided, offering Harry a bite.
It didn't taste as sweet as Honeyduke's, but because it was all his and Severus's, Harry loved it anyway. He watched as Severus put more of the cocoa into the pot balanced over the fire. "This is all much better than acceptable," he insisted. "It's nice. Romantic, even."
"You think washing each other's hair is romantic," noted Severus, but Harry chuckled. Severus purred like a cat whenever Harry washed his hair.
"Because that is, too. Finding new ways to make each other happy is romantic. Starting new traditions, much better than three french hens..."
Severus turned with a look of horror. "You don't mean that you intend for us to do this every Christmas?" His expression turned calculating. "Suppose I wanted to start a new tradition whereby we went someplace warm and sunny -- and magical -- instead?"
"I'd have no objection to that. Or to switching off -- two years warm and sunny, one year -- "
"...stuck at home in the snow," Severus finished for him. Every time Severus called Grimmauld Place home, it made Harry feel warm and sunny, no matter how much snow might have been falling or how early the winter sun set. With an exaggerated sigh, Severus added, "Do you want more cocoa?"
"Yes, please." As much as Harry was enjoying this, there was something to be said, too, for the thought of being on a private beach with Severus, kept invisible from others by wards, wearing sunblock potions and nothing else. "All right, you pick the place and next Christmas we'll go there."
"We could compromise." As he poured out the cocoa, Severus cast Harry a calculating look. "Half a week at home with no magic, half a week in the Cayman Islands."
"Are there isolated beaches in the Cayman Islands? Beaches where two wizards could be naked?"
"I'm certain there are." With another smirk, Severus saluted Harry with his cup before drinking his cocoa.
Then Harry remembered something he'd been meaning to ask. "Hey, you still haven't told me what you'd like for Christmas." He let chagrin fill him, feeling like the worst boyfriend ever.
Severus looked at Harry in surprise, then averted his gaze, staring into the fire for a moment. "I suppose you'd like me to say I have everything I could want, right here with you, in front of the fire."
"Of course you don't," Harry said, though once Severus had refuted it, he couldn't help but be disappointed. He nudged his shoulder against Severus's, trying to sound good-natured. "Of course you don't," he said again.
It wasn't much, but Harry, who knew every twitch of that face, caught that tremor at the corners of his mouth that meant Severus was trying very hard not to -- whatever passed for a smug smile. Harry nudged him harder. "All right, you faker, I suppose I deserve that for putting us through this."
"This?" asked Severus, glancing around at their firelit shadows dancing on the walls. "Stranded in a draughty old house with the meanest of provisions and the barest minimum of caffeine in our bloodstreams? Yes, I suppose you do."
"So what do you want?"
"Hmmmm...."
Harry waited, but that's all there was. "Well?"
Severus licked a bit of cocoa off that fingertip. "Naked coffee in the morning," he said.
"I've already promised," Harry began.
"Every morning," Severus said, then set down his cocoa and Harry understood.
"Every morning is a really long time," he replied, stretching out his legs. Molly had given them both a pair of hand-knitted socks and they'd both put them on in the chilly air.
"Well, if you aren't up for it," Severus said, sliding the leg closest to Harry's slightly away.
"I never said that," Harry replied, hooking his leg over and rubbing his sock against Severus's. "Can I wear socks in the winter when the floor is cold?"
"I suppose wearing only stockings counts as naked," Severus said, as if giving this condition weighty consideration.
"Socks, you perv, not stockings," laughed Harry, nudging his shoulder against Severus's. He set down his own mug and climbed into Severus's lap. "I'll wear anything you like for as long as you like," he said, cupping Severus's cheeks in his hands. "Or nothing, every morning."
Harry knew Severus was going to kiss him, going to arouse him and make love to him in front of the fire, but for a moment they just looked at each other with that sense of lovers who can wait just a moment longer, to prolong the sweetness and the joy. Severus slid his arms around Harry's waist.
"Every morning, every evening, every ridiculous learning-something-from-each-other moment," said Severus.
Harry brushed his lips over Severus's mouth. "It hasn't been completely ridiculous, has it?" He laughed again. "Wait, don't answer that. I'll consider it a learning-about-Severus moment."
Severus wasn't quite smiling back but he did manage to look smug. "I did warn you I was surly," he pointed out.
"You also said you were solitary," Harry countered.
"How did I know you'd be so good in bed?"
"Ha! I'm not that good," Harry said. He grinned. They were both moving against each other, touching, stroking, nuzzling. "Well, I'm getting better."
"You underestimate yourself," chuckled Severus.
"I think I'm learning something right now," Harry said, voice gone a little hoarse.
"Don't you dare," warned Severus, and then the kiss came and Harry knew this was wanted for every Christmas, for every other holiday, for every day, because he knew Severus wanted it too.