The Friday Boy

CHAPTER 15

“I’m in the kitchen.” Harry called out as he continued to roll out the dough on the table that was covered with flour, and baking utensils. It was Christmas Eve and Harry had been alone most of the day at Grimmauld Place. Snape had been summoned that morning and Harry had known then what was happening. Sure enough come lunchtime word had come that the Ministry was under attack. Like lemmings leaping to their deaths the house emptied, each order member apperating away as they ran out the front door of number 12. A heavy-handed Dumbledore had banned Harry from going with them. It was hardly surprising really Harry’s visions had started to return and he’d spent the last few nights screaming in pain and terror. Harry was sure he’d kept half of London awake and even though he’d wanted to go and help, he knew he wasn’t up to the task physically.

So alone and bored on Christmas Eve he’d decided to make gingerbread men. Mrs. Weasley had abandoned her cookbook on the side and Harry had happily found a suitable recipe among the pages and set to work. Keeping himself busy was the best way of keeping his mind off the battle raging on at the Ministry without him.

The grandfather clock had just chimed 4.30 in the hall and Harry had heard the click of the front door opening and closing. Not wanting to be away from his cooking Harry called blindly to whomever it was that had made it home first. Cutting out what remained of the dough into the shapes of the gingerbread men Harry picked up the baking tray and shuffled over to the oven to pop them inside. Behind him he heard the shuffle of feet and glanced casually over his shoulder to smile at whomever it was who was home. Harry was somewhat surprised to see Snape leaning against the doorframe looking surprisingly healthy considering.

“Hi.” Harry whispered as he moved back to the table and sat down again to begin rolling out another batch of dough. Harry knew he’d gone berserk with the amount of gingerbread men but he’d needed something to do.

“Hi.” Severus muttered darkly as he stared in at the chaos of the kitchen. Every possible work surface was covered with cooling racks holding stacks of gingerbread men. Harry was covered in flour and dough and his hands were shaking as he continued to roll out another lump of dough.

“I’m baking.” Harry smiled over his shoulder at Snape, his gaze not quite meeting that of his professors. Slowly Snape entered the kitchen and Harry determinedly didn’t look up at his professor as Snape circled the room taking in the sheer amount of gingerbread men Harry had made. “Try one, I think I’m better at this than potions.” Harry didn’t look up as he felt Snape come to a stop behind him. Carefully Snape reached down and placed a blood stained hand over Harry’s that was still frantically rolling out the dough.

“I think that’s enough Potter.” Harry swallowed heavily his shaking hands reluctantly letting go of the rolling pin as Snape’s strong hand drew him away from the table. Harry didn’t know what to do with himself unaware of just how upset he was that he’d been left in the house alone while his friends and family had gone out to fight. Shaking and covered from head to toe in flour and dough Harry allowed Snape’s strong arms to pull him against his chest. Almost instantly Harry clung to the man tightly still shaking like a leaf. “Everyone’s fine Harry, a few injuries here and there but everyone’s coming home for Christmas I promise.” Harry nodded distantly against Snape’s chest as he felt the older wizard reach over him and grab one of the already cooked and cooled gingerbread men from the racks on the side. Harry listened as Snape took a bite out of the biscuit and munched thoughtfully for a moment. “You’re right you are better at this than potions.” Snape murmured as he swallowed his mouthful and let Harry step away from him. For the first time since he’d started this morning Harry finally took in the chaos of the kitchen.

“Fucking hell, what am I going to do with all of these?” Harry sighed as he looked up at Snape guiltily. Finishing his own gingerbread man Severus shrugged and pointed to the collection of tins in the far cupboard.

“Put them in tin’s and hope the Weasley Twin’s are hungry.” Harry blushed as Snape huffed a small chuckle of amusement. With a sigh Snape sat down at the chair at the table as Harry began to clean up, and put away the evidence of his nervous baking spree.

“What was it like?” Harry whispered as he flicked his wand at the table and cleared it of utensils before getting a clean cloth and beginning to wash the dough and flour off the surface. Snape watched Harry carefully silently appreciating the boy’s figure that was bent over the large table as he cleaned up.

“Unorganized chaos as usual, the Ministry Auror’s wouldn’t know a raid if we turned up with placards and sporting badges declaring our intentions.” Once cleaned up Harry began to put away his baking easily fitting most of the gingerbread men into the five large tins in the cupboard Severus had gestured to earlier.

“Did he get what he came for?” Harry inquired as he put the kettle on and sat down opposite Snape at the now clean kitchen table.

“As always.” Severus muttered as he watched Harry flick his wand at the kettle after it had boiled and had it pour them two cups of steaming lemon tea. Snape smiled mildly at Harry in thanks as the boy offered him another gingerbread to go with his tea.

“Am I allowed to know what he came for is it just another of those issues I don’t know about but I’m fighting for it anyway?” Harry didn’t mean to sound bitter but having spent most of the day alone consumed with worry he couldn’t help himself. If Snape caught the tone he didn’t make comment as he dipped his fresh made gingerbread into the tea and proceeded to bite the head of the man.

“The potion.” Snape put simply deliberately keeping his answers short and as undetailed as possible knowing that Dumbledore would have his head if he elaborated on the more concerning aspects of Voldemort’s latest plan.

“The one Mr. Weasley got, that you’ve been working on?” Harry inquired as he cupped his hands around the mug and inhaled deeply on the calming fragrant steam. Snape didn’t answer and merely sipped from his tea, his dark eyes glancing up at Harry knowingly from over the rim of the cup. “Ah, I see. If you were married to him, I’d say you were whipped.” Harry smiled at his joke but when Snape’s expression darkened Harry knew his joke hadn’t been taken so well.

“Watch your tongue Potter, I’ve had a trying day.” Immediately Harry shut up and lowered his gaze to the clean tabletop. In silence they sat opposite one another both quietly sipping their tea in an awkward kind of stasis. For Harry he’d seen a different side of Snape this afternoon, a man who had shown him if only briefly a caring compassionate side. Harry wondered if he was the only person in the world who’d ever seen Snape that way, and he felt ultimately privileged. Perhaps Snape’s feeling for him went deeper than just attraction as the man had made it out to be. Smiling to himself Harry sat back in his chair and kicked his shoes off quietly beneath the table. He’d read a letter to the editor in one of his magazines the other day about someone playing footsie’s under the table at dinner. It had amused Harry greatly and at the moment he was feeling brave enough to try it. Snape had definitely made his intentions clear in the bathroom that day, but Harry had yet to give any responsive signs. In fact over the last week Harry had hardly spoken two words together to the elder wizard. Sliding down in his chair a little Harry reached out his leg beneath the table but before he could run his toe up Snape’s leg the fireplace in the living room erupted into flame and the door to Grimmauld Place flew open. Just like how they’d left at lunchtime the crowd returned home, chattering and talking in a deafening row.

“Harry?” Harry sat up abruptly in his chair, as Sirius appeared in the kitchen doorway a bright smile on his face as he held up four shopping bags. “We got Chinese…” Sirius smile faded however when he looked from Harry’s guilt ridden face across to where Snape was sitting oblivious to what had just nearly happened. “Snivelrus, you’re back. What a shame, I live in hope that one day you’ll not find your way home.” Snape narrowed his gaze at Sirius who entered the kitchen and began emptying the bags onto the middle of the kitchen table. Everyone else seemed to follow the smell of food and before long the table was crammed with wizards and witches eagerly tucking into their meal. Harry however wasn’t hungry and merely stared at his empty teacup as he watched his family around him tuck into their meal as if nothing had happened that day. Severus was gingerly eating prawn-fried rice with chopsticks, his gaze glancing up at Harry’s every minute or two. Harry himself had yet to take any of the food as he listened to the jovial chatter.

“Harry aren’t you hungry?” Lupin spoke up from down the table when he noticed the boy hadn’t touched anything. Harry didn’t acknowledge the werewolf and instead stared at the empty teacup and his half eaten gingerbread man.

“Harry? Aren’t you well dear? You look a bit pale.” Mrs. Weasley piped up from the other end of the table but Harry ignored her too, irritating Sirius who was sitting beside Dumbledore and next to Severus.

“Harry! Answer them for Merlin’s sake, you’re being rude.” This Harry couldn’t help but acknowledge as he finally looked up at his godfather who was pointing at him angrily with his chopsticks. Sirius’ face was bruised, and a scorch mark on the shoulder of his cloak told of his undoubtedly close call. Instantly Harry exploded throwing the teacup along with the saucer he’d put the two gingerbread men on at the wall above Sirius head. Everyone ducked, except Severus who pushed his meal away in disgust and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.

“FUCK YOU ALL!” Harry screamed loudly as he stormed out of the kitchen practically bowling Ron over on the way out, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. For a long time the entire kitchen sat in silence and Severus silently counted to ten before the predictable would happen. Sure enough Snape felt Sirius turn to him.

“What the hell is going on, I knew something was up when I walked in here and you two were sitting there, guilty as fucking sin.” Severus let go of his nose and slowly opened his eyes, mildly surprised that Sirius would have read Harry and his silence before as guilt.

“What?” Dumbledore leaned forward now and glared daggers at Snape who rolled his eyes and tutted loudly.

“Put a sock in it Albus, I simple arrived back before you lot did and found Harry baking. It looked like he’d been making gingerbread men for weeks judging from how many were strewn about this kitchen. He was wreck, shaking like a leaf and upset. Didn’t it occur to any of you that he might just have been worried for you today, the fact he couldn’t be there to protect you in his own deluded little Gryfindor way? Then you lot stroll in here like everything’s fucking dandy, not a word to him about what happened or even the decency to tell him you’re all okay. But I guess that didn’t occur to you did it you selfish cunts.” With that Severus stood up from the kitchen table and having pushed Sirius out of the way strode from the kitchen his robes swirling around him in their usual fashion. He had to find Harry because there was no way anyone else was going to do it. Despite his misgivings regarding the boy, Harry was fragile and having seen too much death in his short years was undoubtedly traumatized whenever he wasn’t there to protect the people he loved.

TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>