Missed Opportunities

Missed Opportunities

Chapter Seven

Severus in dress robes was… stunning.  His long black hair shone, falling across the snow-white collar of his shirt, caressing his shoulders, draping like silk over his high cheekbones, stark contrast with his pale skin.  He emerged from the small bathroom adjusting the sleeves of his robe.  I was struggling to turn my collar over the bow tie I had tied – poorly – at my throat, and watched his fingers as he played with his cuffs until they were arranged the way he wanted, and then checked himself in the mirror. 

“Very elegant, sir, if I do say so myself.  Dressed for success, I see.  Spot of lint on your right shoulder, but other than that, quite spiffy,” the mirror opined. 

He snorted and turned toward me, watched me struggle with my collar for a moment, then gestured me over to him.  Without a word, he pulled me between himself and the mirror, and stood behind me, his arms reaching easily over my shoulders.  I forgot how to breathe. Oh gods! 

He turned my collar up, slid the bow tie open, and retied it – perfectly and swiftly.  He turned my collar down over the tie, and I caught my breath at the touch of his fingers on my neck, sending a frisson of ice and heat down my chest and my back, and up my skull so that it felt like every hair on my body stood on end… and I nearly groaned when that was not the only thing coming to attention.  He looked up and met my eyes in the mirror, in amusement and something else that I still could not identify, but that was present in his look almost every time our eyes met.  He smoothed the shoulders of my robe, leaving his hands there as we looked at each other.  It warmed me – but also filled me with despair, as it reminded me so clearly of what I could not have.

I fought down a lump in my throat to say, “Thank you.”

He flicked imaginary lint off my shoulders.  The mirror said, “Nice couple.  Very nice couple.  You look good together, sirs, if I do say so myself.  Off for a romantic evening, then?”

I squawked and ducked away from Severus’ hands, even though what I wanted to do – so badly – was turn and wrap myself around him, lift my face to his…  Oh gods!  What I wouldn’t have done to kiss him!  This was dangerous.  I had to… had to… Oh, Merlin!

I know I was blushing.  I chanced a glance at him, and he was watching me with a speculative look on his face that I was not sure I wanted to know the meaning of. 

“I… I…”  I cleared my throat.  “Some… some wizards asked me to sit with them at the banquet.”

He leaned against the wall and drew back his robe, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his formal trousers, thumbs hooked on the outsides.  Damn it, Severus!  His hands and robes framed his thin hips, and I had a hard time pulling my eyes away from what, in any other wizard, might have been an invitation.  A suggestion, anyway. Damn it!  I stifled a groan and turned away to hide my discomfort and arousal.

“Those three young men who had you cornered,” he said casually.

I didn’t know you’d noticed, I thought, but… of course, as a former spy, he was probably aware of everything in his vicinity.  I should know that by now. 

“Yeah.  I said I’d sit with them.”

“Why don’t you invite them to our table?  The seating is general – except that those of us who are presenting have first choice.”

I snorted and turned back toward him.  “Well, some of us, anyway.”

He nodded, conceding the point.  “In any case, invite them to join us.  I have no preference as to who sits with us – though I certainly have preferences as to who does not.  They will help to fend off the undesirables.”

“Oh.”  I blinked.  With us?  “Are you sure you don’t want to…  Uh… you know.  Sit with…”

“With whom, Mister Potter?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I dunno.  Your colleagues.  Your friends…  Geoff,” I said, striving for an off-handed tone.

“Geoff is certainly welcome to join us, if you like,” he said carefully, watching me.  “Anyone else you’d care to invite?”

I waved a hand, trying to be nonchalant.  “Whoever you think is fine by me.  I don’t really know anyone.”

“Hmm,” he mused.  “We’ll just see who comes up that is acceptable, shall we?”

It was my turn to nod.  “I wouldn’t know, though.”

“Nor should you.  Leave it to me, then.  Come.”  He gestured at the door.  I grabbed my wand from the foot of my bed, stuffed it up my sleeve, ignoring the wand pocket of my robe, and followed him out the door, wondering where he had tucked his own, shivering at the possibilities.

The banquet hall was crowded when we got there, witches and wizards dressed to impress, though none so elegant as Severus, to my eye.  He wended his way through the clusters, while I followed in his wake, stopping abruptly several times as he was waylaid by people wanting to talk with him or shake his hand.  While he was easy to follow, I found myself wanting to grab onto his robes, some childish fear of getting lost or mislaid making me follow him a bit too closely.  The third time I ran into his back, he looked around at me, exasperation and amusement evident in his narrowed eyes and the glare he shot me.  I blushed and backed off, thanking Merlin I hadn’t trod on his robes, and just wishing I could hide within them, feeling ever more like I did not belong.

That was alleviated somewhat when Tom, Bill and Charlie came up to me, hauling a fourth, whom they introduced as Mario.  Mario was a dark, square-ish man, a bit older than the other four of us, dressed in… the best you could say was that his robes were casual… or that he wore them with a casual disdain for the formality the occasion demanded, I thought.  I suppose they would have been alright had he straightened them, or worn a tie, or appeared to give a bloody damn.  I was uncomfortable shaking hands with him, and glanced around to see where Severus had gone off to, pulled by some wizard to meet someone else.  As if he felt me searching for him, he looked up, met my eyes, and scanned the group I was standing with, his eyes lingering on the newcomer.  He lifted his chin at me slightly, as if to say, “I’ve got your back,” and I jerked my head once, and turned back to the group, somewhat reassured.

Tom was watching me when I turned back.  His eyes shifted to Severus, momentarily, then back to me, and he nodded ruefully.  I frowned in confusion, and he smiled at me.  I shook my head and tuned back into the conversation, managing to keep Bill… or was it Charlie?... between me and Mario.

Severus came up behind me several minutes later, touching my back to let me know he was there. 

“Time to find a table, I think, or we’ll have trouble finding one with enough open seats.”  He nodded to the four wizards around me.  “Gentlemen.  I’m Severus Snape.  Harry tells me you’ll be sharing our table.  Shall we?” 

I couldn’t restrain a smile at the “our,” as we followed his directions.  He stayed behind me, directing me with the touch of his hand, and I dearly wished he would stop, before I embarrassed myself with a reaction I did not seem to be able to avoid.  The center table was reserved for this year’s honorees, but a table to the left had his name above one of the place settings, and the table was marked with a blue light hovering over the centerpiece, indicating it was reserved, as well, despite his earlier statement.

I took a seat, and Severus switched his nameplate to a setting at my right.  Charlie ended up on my left, followed by Tom, then Mario, then Bill.  I was surprised – and a bit annoyed, I admit, when Geoff came up and took the seat to Severus’ right.  Geoff was followed by three other wizards, who, one by one, shook Severus’ and Geoff’s hands, or clapped one or the other of them on the shoulder, before Severus invited them to join us and they took their seats and started up the kinds of small-talk that I had heard at the Ministry doings, except that it was potions-centered.

“How are you finding the conference, Mister Potter?” Geoff asked, leaning across Severus to address me.

I felt like growling at him, but I also was flattered that he was talking to me, remembered who I was.  I gulped down a sip of water, and answered.  “Oh – well, I’ve not had much of a chance to hear anyone other than Severus.”

“Of course.  How did your sales go?”

“Very well, thanks.”

I grimaced, wondering what I was doing, conversing with the head of my guild.  My hands started to sweat, and my collar felt tight, and I found my thoughts bouncing between recognition that I was sitting with what might have been the foremost Crystal Master in the world, who was querying me about my work, and picturing him with Severus… picturing Severus bending to kiss him on the lips, picturing the shorter man (because everyone was shorter than Sev, unless they had giant blood) reaching up into that kiss, pictured their naked chests pressed up against each other’s, Severus’ long, thin fingers threading their way through the soft-looking brown hair, holding the man to him as they kissed, pictured Severus’ erection pressed up against…  I felt myself starting to panic, felt jealousy start to cloud my vision.

“Harry,” Severus murmured, his face turned discretely toward mine, his eyes cast over my head as if he was looking for someone.  His hand slipped to his lap as if to straighten his serviette, but he pressed his hand to my thigh, tightening his fingers until they nearly hurt.

I flinched and took a deep breath.  Crittenden was looking at me curiously.  Bloody hell…

“Sorry,” I said.  “I blanked out there, for a moment.  Professor Snape could tell you it’s a habit of mine,” I said with an uncomfortable laugh, not noticing my use of his old title.  Severus squeezed my thigh once and discretely withdrew his hand.  I exhaled in relief, and grabbed a pitcher of water and poured myself a bit more.

“Indeed,” Snape – er, Severus – confirmed.  “However, those days are long gone.  It’s simply been a tiring day, and a meal is long overdue,” he said, agreeably.  “Let me have some of that water, Potter, would you?  Geoff, why don’t you tell us about your latest research?”

That discussion neatly diverted everyone’s attention away from me.  Severus glanced at me once or twice, as if checking to see that I was alright. 

Rather than having the meals appear all at once, as at Hogwarts, our meals were delivered by twenty House Elves in the hotel’s service, their blue tunics glimmering in extravagantly-embroidered blue satin, trays of meals held over their heads as they paraded in as a group.  Conversation turned to the dishes, and somehow, the table split in two, Tom and that group conversing with me, Geoff and the other three older wizards conversing with Severus, and it felt a whole lot like the divide between the House tables and the Head Table at school, with the attendant differences in hierarchy and privilege – so much so that, when Severus poured my wine, I was momentarily startled to be served spirits.  It underscored the differences between us, and depressed me.  I turned more firmly toward my age-mates, but Severus’ shoulder and arm was warm at my back, occasionally brushing against me, and his thigh was warm against my hip at the crowded table.  I tried desperately not to notice, gritting my teeth, trying not to let it bother me.

After the main meal was served, there were afters, and during those, the business of the awards ceremony, with speeches and accolades given and received for things I partially understood, to my relief, to people whose names were sometimes surprisingly familiar to me, from my own work, as well as from thumbing through Severus’ potions journals, and reading his papers.  A couple of times, I recognized that the work being awarded was, indeed, ground-breaking.  Severus, Geoff, and the others commented on almost every presentation, sometimes calling out good-naturedly to those on stage, sometimes exchanging humorous comments more quietly at the table.  Severus called up to one person, his chin raised, his face open, relaxed, and beautiful, and I had to shake myself awake, away from watching his throat as he made some comment that had others in the hall laughing, hooting, and clapping their amused agreement.

Tom leaned in at one point, when the room was fairly noisy, between presentations, to say, “I know you two probably have plans, but…”  His eyes flicked to Severus’ profile as he bent to say something to Geoff.  “…if you would like, us younger blokes…”  He gestured to Bill, Mario and Charlie, including himself in the gesture.  “… are heading out to a pub for a pint.  We’d love it if you’d join us.  I’d love it.”

I turned to him, confused, wondering if he was flirting with me.  He blushed, glanced at Severus again, and cleared his throat.  “No disrespect.  I just would like to get to know you better.  Just friends.  I don’t…”

His face was earnest and open and he looked so uncertain that I took pity on him.  “It’s all right,” I said.  “I’d love to go.”

He smiled in such pleasure that I almost laughed.  It felt good to be… wanted.

As the presentations wound down, Geoff took the stage again, and formally dismissed the company, thanking them for coming.  Severus leaned over and explained that Geoff was treasurer of the society, and at my confused look, added something about the international cooperation between IMPS and the Crystal Masters Guild, but it was too noisy for me to hear that well, and he waved it off, mouthing, “Later.” 

I leaned into him in turn, and said into his ear, “Tom and the others asked me to go for a pint with them – do you mind?”

I thought for just a moment that a flash of disappointment went across his face, but a moment later, it was gone, and I was sure it was just wishful thinking on my part.  In any case, his eyes crinkled warmly.  “Certainly, Harry.  I’m sure you would like to spend at least some of your time with people closer to your own age.”

I hesitated, wanting to correct that impression, but he did not give me the chance, turning to Geoff and saying, “It turns out I will have time for that chess game after all,” and I wondered if I had missed an opportunity to spend the rest of the evening with him.

We stood to go, and he touched my elbow.  “Do you have money?”

“Yes.  Of course,” I answered, not adding that Tom had said my pints would be on him – or them, or whatever. 

Severus nodded, and I noticed his eyes surveying the group, stopping again on Mario and narrowing a bit.  He looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind and said simply, “Enjoy yourself.”  His eyes drifted back to the group, and he tensed subtly.

I nodded.  “I will.”  I meant, I’ll be careful, because I was sure that was what I had seen in his eyes.  “Severus,” I said, touching his elbow.  He looked back at me.  “The war is over.” 

He looked irritated at that, then snorted and shook his head.  “I’ll see you later, Potter.  Don’t forget, you present tomorrow.”

“Yes, Professor,” I said, laughing, and turned toward Tom, unaccountably warmed by the swat to the back of my head.