Death Eater Takes a Holiday

Chapter 31 Risking Intimacy: First Steps






Chapter 31 Risking Intimacy:
First Steps

Severus was nearly at the castle when he saw a lone figure sitting in one of
the decorative windows of the Great Hall. Entering the hall, he could hear
music. 'Harry must have conjured it', he thought since he could hear it
louder as he approached the window. Harry stepped down when he saw the shadowy
figure approach him. The few candles still lit gave off just enough light to
see, but not too clearly. Harry proceeded cautiously, unsure if any others had
returned around the same time. "Professor?" he said hesitantly, and
watched as the man spelled the doors closed. Severus watched him approach
carefully; Harry's hair was still long, but now free from the thong, and hung
loose behind his shoulders.

"Five points from Gryffindor for being out past curfew, Potter,"
Severus said wryly. Harry's mouth dropped open in shock and snapped shut again
when he saw the grin on the man's face. Had he made a joke?

"My name…" he stepped even closer, "is Harry, Severus."
Harry held out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

Severus liked the sound of his name on Harry's lips, and took his hand to
dance. He danced as smoothly and gracefully as Harry had expected. Not once did
he suspect the pain Severus had been ignoring. In Harry's opinion the dance was
over far too quickly. He could have leaned against the dancing sex god for
hours.

"As much as I'd like to continue this, I'm afraid that with my
evening’s previous activities, I've a few things that need to be attended
to." 'A few bruised internal organs' he mused in his head.

"Is Albus expecting you to report to him?" Harry asked, quickly
forgetting the dance he craved.

"Yes, but nothing that's important enough to disturb him before
morning. Now I suggest you go up to bed."

"Is that an offer?" teased Harry, pulling him closer. Severus winced at the unexpected grab at his
lapel as the younger man leaned into a particularly sore spot on his chest.
Harry quickly took a step back; he was pulling at his hair, using it to cover
the scar on his neck. Severus saw this, and knew what Harry must have thought
when he winced. Certainly he wasn't going to let Harry think he was put off by
something like that. It wasn't as if he didn't have a few scars himself.
Severus flicked his wand, making the candles burn a little brighter. Harry
wouldn't meet his eyes.

"That was not an offer," he said in the voice that made
Harry want to melt into a puddle there at his feet. Sev pushed Harry's hair
back behind his shoulders, making his point. "As beautiful as you are, you
know how I feel about our physical relationship right now. Despite how hot you
look in those robes slinking across your body, I refuse to take advantage of
your willingness until I'm sure you know what you're getting yourself
into."

Harry rolled his eyes at the little speech. "I know how you feel, and I
respect that, but you can't blame me for trying. Can I at least get a kiss
goodnight?" he asked, batting his eyes. Harry wondered to himself if maybe
the extra Ogden's he had at the party was talking for him, but didn't care at
the moment. He got his kiss.

The kiss was nice, very nice. It didn't have the desperate quality their
last kiss had in the storage cupboard. Sev's lips graced over his ever so
lightly, and then pressed firmly. The kiss stayed slow; Harry felt his lower
lip being pulled and sucked into a warm mouth, then a tentative tongue slid
between his lips for a moment before darting in to meet his. Harry shivered
when he felt the long, slender fingers slide up his neck, into his now long
hair. The fingers massaged his scalp as those lips…where were the lips? Harry
opened his eyes, unsure of when the kiss had stopped. Sev was smiling at him.
The first time he'd seen a genuine smile, just for him, by the adult Severus.
Looking closer now for the first time since the lights were brightened, he also
saw a bruise on Severus' face. "What happened? You're hurt," said
Harry, gently running a fingertip over the man's brow, where a bruise was
forming. Sev took his hand in his, pulling it away from his face.

"Hazards of the job, it's nothing. As I said earlier, I've a few things
that need to be attended to," he said softly. Harry realized at that
moment Severus had been with him all this time, needing to be healed, and he
hadn't even realized, nor noticed anything unusual until just then, for that
matter.

"I-- I'm sorry I didn't, um..."

"Are you always this articulate?" Sev said lightly to ease Harry's
mind, but it didn't work.

"You need to see Madam Pomfrey."

"No," he said firmly "I need to go to my rooms and take care
of myself. It's nothing that I can't handle." Harry was about to protest
when Severus stopped him, and continued. "I cannot be disturbing the
school nurse in the middle of the night when I'm quite capable of healing
myself."

Harry saw there was no point in arguing with the man. He obviously had been
doing this for years, and Harry wasn’t going to change anything this evening…
or was it this morning? It was very late. "A'right, go, heal, and get some
sleep," he said, and began to walk out with him.

They walked down the deserted halls. No one was up, or at least not out of
bed. Sev mused, "I won't be getting any sleep tonight." He regretted
saying it as soon as it came out. Sure enough Harry's eyes asked why. "I
have a few things that will keep me busy until I meet with Albus in the
morning."

"Would you like some help?"

"Excuse me?"

Harry had to admit, it wasn't the smartest thing to offer assistance when he
had no idea what the man had to do until morning, but he didn't want the night to
end just yet. Apparently neither did Severus, as he gave in.

"I suppose you could assist with a potion, as long as you don’t read
into this. There will be no foolinoundound."

"Of course," Harry said assuredly. He cheered inwardly. Every time
they’d had any contact, Severus had instigated it. He just needed to be
enticing, and wait. He knew Severus had been adamant about his convictions, and
didn’t expect him to change his mind about sex, since he'd made it so clear,
but it would be fun to see how much he could get away with, and if nothing
else, encourage them to get to know each other faster.

As expected, they met no one in the corridors on the way down to the
dungeons. As Sev held the door open, it occurred to Harry that he never heard a
password spoken. He had been wondering what kind of password Sev would choose
for his living quarters, and was slightly disappointed when he didn't get to
find out.

 

When the door was closed, Severus quickly turned around to speak to Harry.
He hadn't been expecting him to be so close; due to the sudden stop, Harry's
hands spayed onto Sev's chest almost defensively. "I seldom have a guest
in here. If you don't know what something is, don't touch it. Is that
understood?" he said in all seriousness. Harry nodded. "I don’t mean
to be curt, but I don't want to have to explain how you were portkeyed to
Timbuktu," Sev said mischievously. Harry shuddered at the thought.
"Not to mention, I have no intention of giving Albus the satisfaction of
knowing you were in here." He noted Harry still had his hands splayed
across his chest, seemingly unaware. "I need to tend to a few things if
you don't mind," he said pointedly. Harry nervously stepped back, now very
aware of his hands. Despite telling himself not to fidget, he unconsciously brushed
the hair behind his ear. Seeing a smudge of blood around Harry's ear, Severus
started, brows raised. "What happened?"

Feeling uncomfortable, Harry pulled his hair back over his scar, realizing
that he'd exposed it to Sev. He had intended on telling him about the scar, but
didn't expect the question so suddenly. "You're bleeding," stated
Severus. That wasn't what Harry expected to hear. He looked down at his hand to
see the drying blood on it. The blood, it seemed wasn't from his ear, but had
spread there from his hand. Confused, he looked at his hand and realization
came to him. Harry stepped close to Severus again, placing his clean left hand
where his right one had been on Sev's chest. When he pulled his hand back, it
was crimson.

"It's you! What happened?" he said, trying to open Severus’ robes
to have a look at the wound. He soon found Sev’s hands wrapped around his,
gently preventing his exploration. Sev lightly slapped Harry's hands away,
being persistent.

"If you don't mind," he said, not sounding annoyed, but
unyielding. He wasn't ready to show his own battle scars, much less inform
Harry of the nature of his wound.

"Come on, if nothing else, you have to admit we're friends. Let me help
you."

"My friends would never consider opening my robes, and certainly they
wouldn't expect me to allow them."

Harry shrugged, feeling not the least bit put off. "Hermione would rip
the shirt off my back if she thought I'd been hiding injuries from them
again." He almost laughed at the memory of her doing just that.

Severus pulled a face. "I suppose Mr. Weasley would do the same,
hm?"

"No, I guess you’re right," Harry laughed. "Ron would yell
for Hermione."

"I'll be back in a few moments; make yourself comfortable," he
paused and turned back around again. "Not too comfortable," he
said with a smirk, getting a smile in return from the younger wizard. Severus
directed Harry to the kitchen to wash up before he left to heal his injuries…
all but one injury. That one would wait until morning when he saw Albus. He knew
the old man would be upset at his not waking him, but he refused to go running
to Dumbledore in the middle of the night. He would keep pressure on it, and
come morning would be healed by an annoyed Headmaster.

Harry washed up in the kitchen, and looked around. It was a small room, but
well equipped for culinary expertise. When Severus returned he stood silently
in the doo, wa, watching Harry who was engrossed in reading every label on his
spice rack. Occasionally he would open a bottle and smell a spice he was
unfamiliar with. When Harry made a face at a particularly strong-scented
seasoning, Sev chuckled quietly, alerting Harry to his presence.

"You have spices even the house elves don't have." He picked up a
jar, "What language is this written in?"

"Armenian, I use it when cooking Pahnjareghenov Mees," Sev laughed
at Harry's incredulous expression. "Vegetables with Meat," he
explained with a small laugh.

"Why didn't you just say that?" Harry asked, shaking his head.

"It's the only thing I know how to say in Armenian; it's also the only
Armenian food I know how to make. It's not one of my better dishes. You know
how some cooks are; they never give you the full recipe. They're worse than
potion makers. I got the recipe and the seasoning from a Potions Master I met
at a symposium years ago. We exchange recipes for potions, and sometimes food.
I hear from him every few months, sometimes longer."

Harry felt a pang of jealously when he thought about Severus corresponding
with people who must be a lot more intellectually stimulating than him.
"What happens at Potions Symposiums?" Harry asked, thinking of Percy
Weasley at a podium speaking about thin-bottomed-cauldrons. Sev poured tea, and
they sat at a small prep table in the kitchen.

"The symposiums themselves are pretty much a waste of time. Some
bigwigs from the companies that sponsor the event give lectures about things
they themselves don't understand, hoping to promote business. Followed by
various groups getting together for dinner at the best local restaurants, and
then having to endure the evening's entertainment, which usually involves
scantily clad women." Severus rolled his eyes for the last part.
"While I do enjoy the opportunity of fine dining, it's the contacts that
make it worth going to those dreadful things. If I can make a few contacts with
other Masters that are willing to keep each other informed of breakthroughs, we
all benefit. Last year a vacationing Potions Master from Indonesia made a
fire-call, telling me of a plant that he found in a local apothecary that is
almost never found fresh in Europe. I'm lucky to have such rare finds come
available."

”Why don't all potion makers apparate to places where the ingredients are
fresh? It would make sense wouldn't it?"

"Not all potion makers could apparate such a distance. In fact, many
wizards become potion makers because of a lack of magical strength. Making
potions is an art, and a science. It can be done with little magic. Of course
there are many who brew for the love of it, and not for a lack of ‘better’
options," he being one of them, of course.

"So, Potions class was your favorite at Hogwarts?" Harry was
thed ted to find out all he could about the enigma that was Severus.

"Merlin no, I hated Potions. I had a nasty professor, evil thing she was...
Don't even think about commenting!"

Harry snorted. "Then why become
a Potions Master?" he asked, biting back the comment he so desperately
wanted to say regarding evil Potions Professors. He was still laughing
slightly.

"I wanted to be a chef. I love cooking. But, 'Snape's do not make a
living doing the work of a house elf'." He said in a v tha that must have
been what his father sounded like. "You could say that I fell into the
field. No, not like Longbottom fell into his cauldron last year. Apparently, my
job choices were limited by what was most beneficial to the Dark Lord, and my
father's good standing within his circle. I apprenticed with Voldemort's former
potions brewer. It was as close to cooking as I would get, and I found potions
to be more rewarding. Now, I'd much rather cook at home, than for some
unappreciative wizard who doesn’t know the first thing about fine dining.
Potions are not hard to excel at when you have a good grasp of cooking. I'm
surprised you don't show more aptitude in the subject yourself."

Harry mumbled something about nasty, evil professors and Severus glared at
him, less threatening than his usual glare. "I think I've spoken to you
more in this last hour than I have in the last several years in class. I do
believe you offered some assistance earlier?" Sev said, gesturing to his
private lab.

"I'll even test some potions if it means I still get to hear that
voice," said Harry, surprising Severus.

"Were you actually listening to the words, or just the voice? I could
have spoke French and you probably wouldn't have noticed."

Harry pretended to be offended at the comment. "I listened to every
word. If you'd been speaking French I'd have probably come in my pants."
He said as a matter of fact, not the least bit embarrassed. He wanted Sev to
want him. Severus stopped walking, as that wasn't what he’d expected to hear.
Harry breezed past him, looking around Sev's private lab.

After Severus set up ingredients for a potion, Harry recognized they were
making the pain potion again. Sev had felt bad leaving them to go to the Death
Eaters meeting the other night, and used that as an excuse to make sure Harry
was able to confidently make the potion himself. Time passed by fairly quickly.
Harry did enjoy the part when he asked Severus how he stirred for hours without
tiring, and Sev wrapped his arms around Harry's from the back to demonstrate.
He held Harry, guiding him, showing how to hold his arms fairly stable, but
relaxed, not rigid, and rocked from one foot to the other, to stir with balance
and flow of body instead of arm strength. It seemed like a slow form in tai
chi, but with the body contact it felt more like an intimate dance. He noticed
Severus didn't hold him for too much longer than necessary to demonstrate, but
he was sure he heard the man inhale deeply as he was taking in Harry’s scent.

"Thanks for helping me with this potion."

"It's the least I can do. I regretted not being there to attend to Gwen
Jennings potion, and I am grateful to you for your assistance. I wouldn't have
asked if I'd realized the conenceences," he said, glancing at the scar on
the younger man’s neck.

"I guess the timing could have been better, " Harry said with a
shrug, "but I had put it off a long time. I'd promised Albus I'd take the
concealment charms off around the time I finished school." He met Sev’s
eyes for a moment. "If you still want to know", Harry said referring
to the scar that extended from the back of his neck, around the front and up to
the back of his right ear. Severus took a step closer, and traced a finger
along his neck, noting the strip of marred skin seemed to have dots in the
center, as whatever burned him had some kind of pattern of holes on it. Harry
shivered at the sensation of Severus touching him there. They finished cleaning
up and returned to Severus' sitting area.

Harry sipped his tea, keeping his eyes on Sev. He so seldom saw the man
sitting except for class and meals. This was his personal space. This was where
Sev relaxed, but he didn't seem too relaxed. He sat somewhat stiffly. "Is
something wrong? You look kind of…uptight or something." Harry asked.
Severus resisted the urge to press his hand over his heart; Harry would think
he was having a heart attack.

"I'm fine." He said without thought, but saw the disappointed look
on Harry face. "I still have a small injury left. It's not horrible, but I
cannot heal it myself." he said, holding up a hand to stop Harry’s protest
before it started. "Before you even say it, Madam Pomfrey can't help me.
It's 'His' way of keeping the upper hand, by giving me an injury
that only Albus can heal." Harry understood that he was referring to
Voldemort.

"It must be a very complicated spell if only Albus can do it for
you."

"There are spells that Albus can do because of inner qualities that
have nothing to do with magical strength."

Harry didn't quite understand the vague answer Severus gave him. He thought
it may have something to do with the bloodlines Dumbledore has, but kept his
theories to himself, voicing only his fears of Sev being found out as a spy.
Severus told him that anyone spending as much time around Dumbledore as he did
would automatically have his loyalty questioned; but the Dark Lord needed his
Potions Master, and Severus proved himself to the Dark Lord when he had to. It
was clear at this point that Severus no longer wanted to have this
conversation. They sat in silence for a moment until Severus finally spoke up.

"I looked at your records, as you have mentioned not minding I do so.
It would appear Poppy tried every healing remedy in her collection. Had you
tried muggle remedies?"

Harry had wondered how he would start this conversation, and was grateful to
start on a medical note and not one that involved abusive relatives, though it
was impossible to not get into that subject. "I read that vitamin E is
great for scars, the pills are like a gel capsule with the vitamin E oil
inside. I managed to rub on some on for about a week and it helped a lot.
I'd’ve used it longer, but my cousin found them in my room and that was pretty
much the end of that." he said as if that explained his cousin in a
nutshell.

“When I got off the train that year, my Uncle was in a very good mood. That
alone can be a scary thing. I was relived to find that I'd nothing to do with
his recent bout of happiness, but that my cousin Dudley had come home for the
summer carrying an armful of boxing trophies. The following week they'd gone
out to celebrate, taking Dudley and his friends out. Normally I would stay home
in my room, but Dudley had been sneaking extra food at night all week, and my
aunt refused to believe that I wasn't stealing their food." Harry said
with a roll of his eyes. "I expected them to lock me in again, but I was
caught laughing while reading a book Ron gave me, ‘Great Quidditch Blunders of
the Century’, and they decided that I was no longer miserable enough being
forced to sin min my room."

Sev remained quiet while Harry told his story. He was sure he heard the boy
mumble. 'Never let them see you having fun.' and thought of his own
childhood.

"I spent the night in the basement while they were out. It wasn't that
big a deal, I got ahead on the laundry that night which I'm not usually
allowed. 'The dryer makes too much
noise while dear Duddikins is watching TV." He said in his best Aunt Petunia
voice. "I thought they would know that I hadn't been taking food when it
was still diminishing in the middle of the night while I was locked in the
basement, but they said that I'd used some of my ‘freakish ways’ to unlock the
door."

"Freakish ways?" Severus asked dryly. Harry snorted.

"Yeah, they don't use the 'M' word." He said laughing. "Fear
of the name, don't you know?" he said, again with a laugh, and whispered 'Magic'.
Wiggling his fingers in front of his face in a spooky manner. Severus snorted
derisively. "Uncle Vernon thought up a better way to keep me in the
basement," he said. The laughter gone from his voice, his brows narrowed.
"I don't know how familiar you are with common muggle basements, but there
are pipes suspended from the ceiling, water pipes. They use strips of flexible
metal wrapped around the pipes to hold them suspended from the ceiling. I think they’re called braces, or
brackets." He said with a shrug, it certainly didn't matter what the
damned things were called. "I suppose he could have wrapped the metal
bands around my wrist to keep me there, but I'd be able to stand comfortably,
so Vernon opted to go for the neck," Harry said without emotion as he
remembered.

"I don't think Vernon knew the metal would get hot when the water ran
through the pipes," he sighed. "Maybe he did,"

"Why didn't you get help?" Severus questioned him without
accusation. "You could have owled someone,"

"I might have, but Hedwig was delivering a letter. I'd told Ron to keep
her for a few days to ensure she would get fed. By the time she returned, I'd
started having nightmares about Cedric. I wasn't convinced I didn't deserve
what happened to me. I at least lived. I wrote a letter to Albus, but didn't
send it. The pain from the burn kept me up at night. I didn't want to
sleep."

Severus understood what it was like to want to escape your nightmares. His
nightmares were real, as were Harry's. Life can be more terrifying than
fiction.

"It looks a lot better now that a few years have gone by. It was kinda'
raw looking before," Harry said wrinkling up his nose. "Did you look
at the pictures?" Severus shook his head.

"No, I wasn't certain it was my place to do so," he said,
remembering the envelope marked 'Evidence', Harry Potter vs. Vernon Dursley.
Severus stood from his chair to sit by Harry on the sofa. Pushing Harry's hair
away from the scar. "May I?" he asked gently. Harry nodded and turned
his head away to allow Severus full view. Had he not been slightly nervous, he
would have moaned, but he did still melt into the touch of gentle hands moving
his hair away from his neck. Severus traced his fingertip from around the back
of Harry's neck. The metal strip had gotten hot enough to burn almost to the
left side of his neck, most of which would be covered by his hair. The worst
was up around the right side where it apparently was attached to the pipe.
Severus continued to trace his finger up to the end where it ended behind
Harry's right ear. On closer inspection, he could see where a small patch of
hair used to grow. Harry shivered, as the skin in that area was especially
sensitive.

Severus sat back, pulling Harry with him. The hand that had been trailing
his scar was now lazily carding through his hair. As Harry drifted off, he felt
a kiss pressed to the top of his head, vaguely he heard Severus speak.

"Beautiful."