Back to Hogwarts Fic: From Oleander to Mistletoe
Title: From Oleander to Mistletoe
Author: angela_snape
Other pairings/threesome: n/a
Rating: R
Word count: ~9K
Warning(s): Character death (not Snape or Harry), not epilogue-compliant
Summary: Harry is suspended as an Auror because of a botched case at the Ministry. Headmaster Snape agrees to allow Harry to fill in temporarily as groundskeeper until he can find other employment.
A/N: Thank you to leela_cat, beta-extraordinaire. Any mistakes still in the text were added after she had it last.
* * * * *
Potter's Position in Peril after Partners Perish
October 17, 2003.
by Rita Skeeter
Staff Reporter
Following an ambush attack during a botched Death Eater recovery mission, Senior Auror John Dawlish and Auror Ronald Weasley were pronounced dead by mediwizards at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Auror Harry Potter, a.k.a. The Boy Who Lived, survived the attack and is recovering from his injuries at an undisclosed location. This reporter has also learned that Mr Potter has been relieved of duties pending an investigation of the attack and whether his actions - or perhaps his inaction - may have contributed to his fellow Aurors' deaths. Funeral services for the deceased have not yet been announced.
* * * * *
The funeral had been a sombre occasion. Well, most funerals were, but to have lost two members of his team and his best friend-- Harry's heart clenched at the memory of Molly Weasley's eyes looking right through him. So much for his honorary family. His best friend was dead, and it was all his fault.
Harry surveyed his office one last time before setting the wards and locking the door. At least the Ministry had waited until after the funeral to suspend him - contrary to what the Prophet had reported. Harry stifled a sigh and blinked in an attempt to relieve the dryness of his eyes. It felt as though he'd cried until he'd run out of tears. For failing to keep his team safe, Harry had been suspended, but the way he was feeling, he'd rather have been sentenced to Azkaban.
The pay he didn't really need, thanks to Sirius' bequest, but all he'd ever wanted to be was an Auror... what was he going to do with his life?
* * * * *
"Oleander."
Harry hid a smile as he followed Headmaster Snape up the spiral staircase to his office. Leave it to an ex-Death Eater to use a poisonous plant as his password.
Entering the headmaster's office, Harry was surprised to see that its contents had changed very little in the five years since he'd viewed Snape's memories in Dumbledore's Pensieve. Snape sat behind the large, claw-footed desk that Dumbledore had used and indicated that Harry should sit in the visitor's chair.
"Minerva mentioned your… predicament at our last staff meeting," Snape began in a tone of voice that made Harry remember all the times Snape had given him detention or taken away House points when he was a student.
Harry felt his cheeks flush, then swallowed down his embarrassment and nodded. "Yes, sir. It was in The Daily Prophet."
"Hagrid has asked for some time off," Snape continued in that same tone, and Harry dug his fingernails into his palms to stave off the erection he felt filling his trousers. When had Snape become so dead sexy? Harry thought.
"...Maxime."
"Er… sorry?"
"Please do pay attention, Mr Potter." Snape arched one elegant eyebrow at him, and Harry's blush deepened.
"S-sorry, sir," Harry stuttered. He cleared his throat, then said, "Please, sir. You were saying?"
"I was saying, before your eyes glazed over completely, that Hagrid has asked for a leave of absence so that he may take a temporary position at Beauxbatons and spend more time with Madame Maxime."
"And you need someone to fill in as groundskeeper while Hagrid is at Beauxbatons," Harry suggested.
"If only you'd had such powers of deduction while you were a student here," Snape observed. "Perhaps you wouldn't be here in this office, now."
"Touché." Harry sighed and pushed up from the chair. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Sit down, Mr Potter," Snape commanded. Harry sat, crossed his legs at the ankle, and tucked his legs under the chair.
"While the position of groundskeeper is not a particularly taxing one, it helps if the person performing that role has a familiarity with both the grounds and the animals of the Forbidden Forest," said Snape. "Mr Potter, in your time here at Hogwarts, you became quite familiar with both Hagrid and his duties."
"Yes, sir," Harry responded, mainly to make sure Snape knew he was paying attention.
"Hagrid's salary is much below that of an Auror, but the job includes room and board."
"I'm not really concerned about salary, sir," said Harry. "Sirius left me the Black fortune. What I really need right now is something to do, to keep me busy and keep my mind off... things."
Snape was quiet, his black eyes boring a hole into Harry's chest. Harry shifted in his seat, leaning forward a little and bracing his hands on the arms of the chair.
"Indeed, Mr Potter."
Snape's voice had dropped an octave, and Harry waited for Snape to continue as a curl of desire burned low in his belly. Harry regulated his breathing, using a technique Luna had taught him for dealing with stress without reaching for the Firewhisky.
Snape stood. "You may begin tomorrow. As there are currently no free staff quarters in the main castle, you may use Hagrid's hut. I presume those accommodations will suit your needs."
Harry nodded, stood, and extended his hand. "Thank you, Headmaster Snape."
Snape appeared to hesitate a moment before grasping Harry's hand. A brief flicker of sensation sparked between their fingers, and Harry released his hand.
"You may go, Mr Potter. I have administrative matters to attend."
* * * * *
Harry Potter. With his mother's green eyes and his father's wild hair, the boy had certainly grown up into a very attractive young man.
Severus had stretched the truth somewhat - there could be accommodations in the main castle, as it used wizard space so as to have sufficient rooms for whatever number of staff was employed at the school at any particular time. Hagrid had always preferred the solitude of his cabin on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, and that seemed to be a good place for Harry for the time being.
As brusque as he'd been in their meeting that morning, Severus felt for the boy. Harry and his team had walked into an ambush. Yaxley had been on the run since the first war and had found a group of Voldemort sympathisers from Albania. The Albanians had lured the Aurors to the remote cabin north of York, only to attack soon after their arrival. The Ministry was laying blame on Harry, though in Severus' opinion, they were looking for a scapegoat, and Harry had had the misfortune of being the only Auror who'd survived the attack.
The cabin - what was left of it - bore evidence of an extended magical battle. Many curses had been cast that night. It was surprising that Harry had survived the attack at all. Or perhaps it was a testament to his powerful magic - having survived the Killing Curse as an infant, and then returning from the dead during the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter was obviously difficult to kill.
* * * * *
Harry walked slowly down the path towards Hagrid's hut. A thin wisp of smoke rose from the chimney, and Harry could see the flickering light of a candle through the window. Stopping to listen for a moment, Harry heard the cry of a Thestral from within the dark forest, and the leaves rustling in the wind.
The heavy wooden door creaked on its hinges when Harry opened it. Inside, a low fire burned in the hearth, and a hurricane lamp shone from the table. Harry set his rucksack on the floor near the door and moved through the hut, examining its contents. Much of the cabin was the same as Harry remembered from his many visits to Hagrid as a student. Large, plain furniture, serviceable dishes, and a cooking fire with a cauldron mounted above.
A folded length of parchment sealed with red wax was on the table. The impression in the seal was a stylised thistle surrounding the letter 'M'. Professor McGonagall.
Dear Harry,
You have been under considerable stress. Please feel free to stay at Hogwarts for as long as you deem necessary. Hagrid will happily remain at Beauxbatons so that you may continue in the position of groundskeeper for as long as you require.
While you may prefer the solitude of Hagrid's hut, I encourage you to take your meals at the Head Table with the rest of the staff.
Minerva McGonagall
Harry smiled. It was nice to know that his former Head of House was still looking out for him. He filled the teakettle and set it on the stove to boil. A quick search of the cupboards revealed an unopened packet of chocolate digestives, and Harry took out a plate and mug for his afternoon tea. He could do with a cuppa.
* * * * *
Harry quickly settled into a routine of sorts. He took his meals in the Great Hall, sitting at the end of the Head Table nearest Gryffindor House. He ate quickly and spoke little. The professors who'd known him as a student gave him a wide berth, as if sensing his need for solitude among the masses of the student body. The new professors - some git from America was teaching Defence, and an Irish woman had taken on the Muggle Studies course - had initially tried to engage him in conversation, but they stopped when he answered them primarily in monosyllables.
Other than at meals, Harry never saw Headmaster Snape. Harry spent most of his time out-of-doors, working in the forest, helping Neville and Professor Sprout with the gardens (mostly by bringing them dung from the forest's magical creatures) and caring for the Thestral herd. Occasionally, he also ventured out onto the lake, feeling a bit small in the boat that Hagrid reserved for his own use.
The groundskeeper's position was not a taxing one. Physically, yes, and Harry was happy to have the opportunity to burn off his excess energy, but not mentally. It gave him time to think. Perhaps too much time.
The physical nature of the position ensured that Harry was tired enough to sleep at nights without the aid of a potion, though he was often tempted to use Dreamless Sleep to avoid the nightmares that were plaguing him. He kept hearing Yaxley's cackling laugh and seeing Ron's face just before the Killing Curse hit him. Then he would sit bolt upright in bed and wake up soaked in sweat, panting for breath.
* * * * *
Severus crumpled the morning edition of The Daily Prophet and tossed it into the fireplace. Since the ambush, Rita Skeeter's articles had been increasingly accusatory. It seemed that Potter had become the convenient scapegoat, simply because he had survived the attack. And since it was not well known that Potter was currently employed at Hogwarts, there had been a whole series of articles in the Prophet that were focussed more on Potter's whereabouts than on learning the truth. That seemed to always be the way with the Prophet, rag that it was. Severus briefly considered cancelling his subscription, but discarded the thought. He did enjoy their Fiendishly Difficult Crosswords.
Deciding to look into things himself, Severus contacted Kingsley Shacklebolt at the Ministry of Magic. In the more than five years since the war's end, Kingsley had run the Ministry efficiently and effectively. He was a very hands-on Minister, which was what Wizarding Britain had needed after the years of turmoil leading up to and during the second war.
Severus tossed Floo powder into the flames and called, "Kingsley Shacklebolt!" As an Order member and a friend of Kingsley's, it was nice being able to bypass the Minister's secretary by calling him directly.
"Severus, I am glad you contacted me," said Kingsley's flickering image once they'd done with the pleasantries. "Harry had told me that he'd be working at Hogwarts, but I have not heard from him since he left London."
"I don't think he has contacted anyone since his arrival at Hogwarts," said Severus. "He receives no mail and has had no visitors as far as I am aware."
"Severus, can we meet somewhere? Not at Hogwarts - I don't want to worry Harry."
"I presume you also do not wish for me to come to the Ministry?"
"There is something odd going on here," said Kingsley quietly, after looking back over his shoulder as if to ensure that he was still alone in his office. "I'd rather not have people know you are visiting."
"The Hog's Head is usually quiet on Saturday afternoons," suggested Severus. "Would that suit?"
"Fine," agreed Kingsley. "Two o'clock?"
Severus agreed and closed the Floo connection. He sent a note to Minerva telling her he had an errand in Hogsmeade and asking her to deal with any matters that came up in his absence.
As expected, the Hog's Head Inn was dimly lit and nearly empty when Severus arrived. With a nod at Aberforth, he ordered a glass of Ogden's and took a seat in a dark corner. Severus was not alone at his table for long.
A tall, cloaked figure entered the room soon after Severus was served his drink. Severus recognised Kingsley from his gait. However, he had obviously taken pains to disguise himself, if the pale hand clutching the front of his travelling cloak was any indication.
"Severus." Kingsley sat in the chair opposite and shrugged out of his cloak. Severus smiled when he saw that the man sitting before him looked a lot more like Lucius Malfoy than Kingsley Shacklebolt. He even carried a silver-tipped walking stick.
Severus nodded in response and took a sip of his Firewhisky. He waited while the amber liquid burned a path down his oesophagus, and then he spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Has there been any investigation into the ambush?"
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement lost three Aurors as a result of the attack; the two who were killed, and Harry by way of his suspension. They are a bit overworked right now and quite short-handed."
"Do they not want to know what happened?" Severus was incredulous.
"As I said earlier, there is something odd going on at the Ministry," said Kingsley. "It is almost as though someone wanted Harry thrown out of the DMLE. There is a surprising amount of anti-Potter sentiment at the Ministry right now. Even Arthur won't talk about him."
"I find that difficult to believe. Harry was practically an honorary Weasley from the time he began at Hogwarts," said Severus. "Even though he didn't marry Ginevra."
"Molly and Arthur are taking Ron's death very hard," said Kingsley. "It's worse than when Fred was killed in the final battle. Arthur is still working, but it is as if he is in a fog all the time. And I've not seen Molly outside the Burrow since the memorial service."
"You said the Department is short-handed. Is anyone investigating the attack?"
"Yes," said Kingsley. "I've borrowed Hermione Thomas from the Department of Mysteries. She's not an Auror, but she's a crack researcher. If anyone can get to the bottom of things, she can."
Severus agreed. Even though Hermione had been an annoying know-it-all as a student, she was an excellent researcher, and as a friend of both Harry and Ron, she could be impartial as she was looking out for both their interests.
Kingsley and Severus spoke for a few minutes longer, exchanging personal theories on how the ambush had been orchestrated, then shook hands and parted company.
* * * * *
The commotion started as Harry was leaving the Great Hall the following Tuesday, after lunch.
"You killed my father! Murderer! Some hero you are," shouted Anthony Dawlish even as two prefects held him back.
Harry mumbled, "'M sorry. So sorry," and slunk towards the doors of the Great Hall. Harry's stomach churned and a lump formed in his throat as he fought back the memories of the attack.
"What is going on here?" shouted Snape, who'd just stormed into the Great Hall, robes billowing out behind him.
"He killed my father!" repeated young Dawlish, a third year student in Gryffindor.
"Did Mr Potter cast the curse that killed your father?" asked Severus in the same voice he'd always used to assign detentions.
The boy mumbled an inaudible response.
"Speak up, boy!" commanded Snape. "I asked you a question, and I expect an answer."
"No, sir."
"Then why do you suggest that he did?"
"He-- he must've been involved," sputtered Dawlish. "How else could he be the only one who survived the attack?"
"It would not be the first time that Mr Potter survived an attack on his life," said Snape. "He is a very powerful wizard."
"So powerful he couldn't save my father?" countered Dawlish. "Maybe he just let my father die." A moment passed before the boy continued, "And his best friend, too."
Harry felt his shoulders hunch, almost reflexively, and he wished there was a way around the anti-Apparition wards so he could disappear from the Great Hall. Or that he could shrink in upon himself until he no longer existed.
"That's enough, Mr Dawlish," said Snape. "You will report to Mr Filch for detention this evening. And fifty points from Gryffindor."
Dawlish gaped at the Headmaster. "Detention, sir?"
"Mr Potter is a member of this staff, and your behaviour towards him just now has been unacceptable," said Snape. "You will serve the detention tonight, and another tomorrow for talking back to me. Go to class. I'm sure Professor O'Hara and your classmates from Gryffindor are expecting you."
"Yes, sir." Dawlish and his friends left the Great Hall.
Snape directed his glare at the students lingering by the doors. "Anyone who is late for their next class will lose House points."
Alone with him in the Great Hall now, Snape directed his attention at Harry. "Mr Potter, please come to my office immediately after you complete your duties for the afternoon." He then turned on his heel and stalked away in the direction from which he had come.
Harry watched Snape leave before heading out for his afternoon in the forest, feeling like he had when Snape had protected Harry and his friends from Remus in his werewolf form. Relieved, with an underlying hint of… something indescribable.
* * * * *
Surprisingly hot and sweaty after working outside on a late autumn afternoon, Harry decided that although Snape had wanted to see him immediately after he'd completed his duties, it would be best if he first had a shower. 'Pong' did not begin to describe the odour emanating from Harry's armpits.
"Fervens." The heating spell brought the water to Harry's preferred temperature faster than a water heater ever could.
Harry looked in the mirror for a moment while he let the steam build. His face was haggard from many nights of nightmare-plagued sleep. His hair, which had always been unruly but at least healthy-looking, hung limply about his shoulders. He even thought his eyes had faded to a duller shade of green.
He stepped into the shower and stood there for a few minutes, water sluicing down his body. The heat from the pounding spray helped ease some of the tension from his shoulder muscles. Finally, he lathered his hair and began to spread the excess foam over his skin. When Harry's hand reached his cock, an image of Snape, robes billowing as he stalked into the Great Hall to rescue Harry, sprang to his mind.
Squirting more soap into his hand, Harry stroked the length of his shaft, twisting a little with each upstroke and swiping his thumb over the tip. He adjusted his stance to part his legs slightly and used his free hand to spread the slick soap over his bollocks and down to his perineum, before inserting his index finger into his anus. Harry groaned and increased the pace of his strokes, moving his hips in counterpoint to the rhythm of his hand.
As he came, spurting thick ropes of semen over the tiled wall of the shower, he saw stars and had only one thought. Snape!
* * * * *
Severus spent the afternoon conducting his own subtle investigation into the Yaxley Ambush, as he was beginning to call it in his mind. A few discreet Floo-calls and a delivery of back issues of The Quibbler had yielded enough information that Severus thought he knew what had happened. Now he just needed to compare the results of his research with that of Mrs Thomas, and perhaps they could put the matter to rest.
A knock at the door signalled Potter's arrival. A quick Peephole Charm confirmed it.
"Enter," called Severus, and the heavy wooden door swung inwards, admitting Potter.
Potter had obviously cleaned up prior to their meeting, as evidenced by the damp hair curling at his nape. He wore worn-looking, but clean Muggle clothes - jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt with trainers. The boy always did seem to prefer Muggle clothing. Looks good on him, Severus thought.
"I thought I asked you to come see me immediately following your afternoon duties," drawled Severus.
Potter had the decency to blush before responding. "I spent the afternoon in the Forbidden Forest, working on a new enclosure for the Thestrals. I didn't smell too good by the time I was finished, so I thought it would be a good idea to have a shower first."
Potter's flush had deepened as he finished speaking. Severus wondered why for a moment before he caught himself picturing Potter in the shower, leaning against the wet tiles as Severus fucked him from behind. Where did that come from? Severus wondered, in a panic.
"Indeed, Mr Potter." Severus indicated that Harry should sit in the chair opposite his desk and rung the kitchens. Moments later, a pillowcase-clad house-elf popped in with a tray of tea and biscuits. Chocolate biscuits, Severus was pleased to note. "Thank you, Pippy." The house-elf nodded vigorously before popping back out to the kitchens.
Harry stirred three cubes of sugar into his tea and added so much milk the liquid was nearly white. Severus also noticed that Harry took three of the chocolate biscuits.
"You wanted to see me, Headmaster Snape?" Harry asked once they'd both settled in with their teacups.
"Mr Potter." Severus paused, taking a slow breath. "Harry. I have made some enquiries regarding the incident in York. I need to meet with Miss Granger, er, Mrs Thomas to confirm some details, but I believe I know what happened."
Harry's eyes had widened at Severus' use of his given name, but quickly returned to their usual, myopic state behind his spectacles.
"Thank you, sir." Harry dunked a biscuit into his milky tea. "What have you learned?" He leant forward a little; the only sign of his having any interest in what Severus had to say.
"I will share that with you once I've spoken to Mrs Thomas. I also met with Minister Shacklebolt." Severus nibbled at a biscuit, savouring the dark chocolate that coated one side of it. "Kingsley tells me you've not been in contact with him since your arrival at Hogwarts."
"That's right," said Harry quietly. "To be honest, I haven't felt like talking much to anyone since I arrived here. I'm sure the staff have noticed."
"Minerva did mention that you'd been keeping to yourself outside of mealtimes." Severus offered Harry more tea, which he declined.
"So what now?" asked Harry. "Do I need to find myself another job, or is the Ministry going to take me back?"
"I do not know about the Ministry, but Hagrid had indicated that he will be staying in France through Yule. You may stay here at Hogwarts, for now, if you wish."
"Thank you, sir." Popping the last bite of a chocolate biscuit into his mouth, Harry stood. "I do appreciate everything you've done for me."
"I've done nothing but ask some questions, Mr Potter."
"I'm glad someone has," said Harry. "I think I'll have a quiet dinner alone tonight. Goodnight, Headmaster."
As the heavy wooden door closed behind Harry, Severus said quietly, "Goodnight, Harry."
Severus decided that Harry must still be in shock from the attack. Otherwise, he was certain that Harry would have been investigating on his own, as well. How could he not be?
* * * * *
Harry's footsteps echoed as he climbed the owlery stairs. Out of habit, he looked for Hedwig before the pang of remembering her death stopped him. He selected one of the school's owls and attached the parchment-wrapped phial to its leg. Harry offered the bird the palmful of bacon crumbs he'd saved from breakfast, before rubbing its head and saying, "Please take this to Hermione Thomas at the Department of Mysteries."
The tawny owl hooted softly, then took off, flying south over the lake. Harry watched until it flew out of sight.
Happy to be alone - though his performance of Hagrid's duties often found Harry alone - Harry looked out over the castle grounds. The lake sparkled in the late-afternoon sunlight. The air was cool and crisp, and leaves had turned orange and red in their annual show before the coming winter. The echoing footfalls of someone coming up the owlery stairs made Harry turn towards the door.
Anthony Dawlish was framed in the entryway. "Murderer," he spat as he drew his wand.
Harry's Auror training had him pulling out his own wand almost before Anthony's was completely drawn. "Expelliarmus!"
The boy's wand flew into Harry's outstretched hand, and he tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. For good measure, Harry used a simple binding spell that would limit Anthony's arm mobility, but that would allow him to move down the stairs safely.
"You may collect your wand from Headmaster Snape," said Harry, heading for the stairs. "I'm sure he'll want to know how you lost it."
* * * * *
Severus met with Hermione Thomas at the Hogs Head exactly one week after his meeting with Kingsley. She'd arrived ahead of him and had coincidentally chosen the same table in the same dark corner to await Severus' arrival at the pub. A curt nod at Aberforth and Severus joined her at the table. A grey travelling cloak was draped over the chair beside her, and there was a pile of parchment and books on the table in front of her. She'd tamed her bushy hair into some kind of twist at the back of her head, but otherwise looked the same as she had as a student.
"Hello, Headmaster Snape." Hermione smoothed an errant strand of hair behind her ear before continuing. "I'm glad you contacted me. I've collected a lot of information, and I think I have an idea of what happened, but I'd love your opinion on some of it."
"Indeed, Mrs Thomas." Severus accepted the glass of Firewhisky from Aberforth and took a sip before placing the glass on the scarred tabletop. "What have you learned?"
As Hermione recounted the facts as she'd compiled them, Severus paid careful attention, storing each fact away in his mind. Rather than interrupting with his questions, Severus encouraged her with monosyllables until she finished speaking.
"I have been making my own inquiries," said Severus finally. "And I have come to a similar conclusion. It was obvious from the start that Harry's team had been set up. The question was, by whom?"
"I agree," said Hermione.
"This information from the Royal Genealogical Society may be of interest to you," said Severus, passing over a printed sheet of paper.
Hermione's eyes went wide as she scanned the page. "Headmaster Snape, I think you've got it! We have to tell Kingsley and Harry!"
"Indeed."
* * * * *
"Oleander." The gargoyle moved aside to allow Harry access to the stairs that lead to Snape's office. As Harry rode up on the top step, he considered the letter he'd received from Hermione just that morning.
Dear Harry,
I'm glad to hear you are doing well at Hogwarts. Thank you for sending the memory - I'm surprised nobody at the Ministry had asked for it before now. Well, not really. The DMLE is in a bit of a shambles right now.
Headmaster Snape and I think we've figured out what happened. We're presenting our findings to Minister Shacklebolt this afternoon. Hope to see you soon with good news.
Love,
Hermione
As Harry raised his hand to knock on the Headmaster's office door, it swung inwards, admitting him. Hermione was already seated across from Snape's desk, a cup of tea perched on her knee. Snape indicated that Harry should take the empty chair beside Hermione.
Harry exchanged greetings with the others and looked expectantly at each, in turn. Hermione smiled encouragingly at him. Snape didn't scowl, which Harry also took as encouragement.
"Minister Shacklebolt couldn't get away from the Ministry to join us this evening," began Hermione. "But he was able to see the Headmaster and myself this afternoon. Kingsley sends his regards, Harry."
Harry nodded, but did not speak.
Snape cleared his throat before taking up the explanation. "It appears that Mr Yaxley had a cousin working at the Ministry."
"Wouldn't the Ministry have known that? It's not as though Yaxley is a very common name," said Harry.
"Eric Yoakley is using a variant surname. Nobody at the Ministry recognised him as being Yaxley's relative," explained Hermione in the matter-of-fact tone she'd always used in class. Somehow, Harry didn't mind her know-it-all attitude at that moment.
"Yoakley? I know him," said Harry. "He's a mousy little fellow in the Accounts department."
"Well, apparently he warned his cousin that your team was coming," said Hermione. "You didn't stand a chance of surviving, let alone taking them in." Hermione's eyes were bright with tears, and Harry reached over to lay his hand on her arm.
"So, Mr Potter," said Snape. "It appears your need for employment at Hogwarts has come to an end. I'm sure the DMLE will be wanting you back on active duty."
"Tha-- thank you, sir," stammered Harry, feeling a bit overwhelmed that a Ministry employee had ultimately been responsible for his best friend's death. He was glad that the mystery had been solved, but he wasn't sure he wanted to continue working as an Auror. "You too, Hermione. I know you probably haven't slept for the amount of research you've done for me. I owe you."
"Just catch them, Harry," said Hermione fiercely. "Just catch the bastards who killed Ron."
* * * * *
It had been a month since Harry had locked up his office. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust - even the cleaning fairies had stayed away from him, it seemed. Harry cast a quick dusting charm and set his rucksack on the floor beside his desk before heading for the Minister's suite of offices.
The mood at the Ministry was hushed, and few people acknowledged him as he walked the corridors and rode the lift. That was fine. Harry wasn't particularly interested in speaking to most of them before he talked to Kingsley.
Kingsley's secretary was a pretty young witch named Isabelle who had always flirted with Harry in the past. That morning, she spoke to him in clipped tones, asking him to take a seat before returning to her perusal of Witch Weekly. The cover of the magazine had a picture of Neville, shirtless, working in the Hogwarts gardens. The caption read, 'Sexiest Wizard Alive?'
Harry smiled, happy that his friend had shed his baby fat and that for once, the attention was off himself. Little do they know that Neville only has eyes for a certain red-haired dragon keeper, Harry thought.
"The Minister will see you now." Isabelle had barely glanced up from her magazine to tell Harry this. Harry thanked her anyway, and entered Kingsley's office.
"Ah, Harry," said Kingsley, standing behind his desk. "I'm so glad to see you. Sorry I couldn't be at Hogwarts yesterday to tell you the good news."
"That's all right," said Harry as he shook Kingsley's hand. "Hermione and Headmaster
Snape explained everything to me."
"Not everything, I imagine," Kingsley continued. "Mr Yoakley has been detained and has admitted to warning his cousin of your raid. He awaits a trial in front of the Wizengamot and will likely go to Azkaban for his role in the ambush."
"Thank you, sir."
"Harry, Yaxley and his compatriots are still at large." Kingsley pulled out a parchment scroll from a drawer in his desk. "This is the latest intelligence we've been able to gather. I'd like you to put together a team and bring them in."
Harry skimmed the scroll's contents. "I don't know if I'm ready for that, sir."
"You'll be leading the team as a Senior Auror, of course, with the raise in pay that accompanies the position. I may be able to get you an office with a window." Kingsley smiled. "I don't even have a window."
"I appreciate your faith in me, sir," said Harry. "I don't need a promotion. I don't even need the money. But I will do my best to bring Yaxley in and see him punished. Ron and John both deserve that." Harry paused before continuing, "I met his son, you know, at Hogwarts."
"Anthony? Of course, he'd be in what, second year now?" asked Kingsley.
"Third, actually," said Harry. "He's very angry. At me. Thinks his dad's death is my fault. I want to try and make it up to him."
"Name your team, Harry, and I will make it happen."
"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down." Harry was about to turn towards the door when he stopped. "Minister Shacklebolt, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to try and do this on my own… I don't want to endanger anyone else on this mission."
"Harry, I would feel more comfortable knowing that you weren't going to be working alone on this."
"Sir, with all due respect, I know the Department is under-staffed, and the new recruits won't be fully trained until after Yule. I'll do this on my own."
"As you wish, Harry." Kingsley shook Harry's hand. "See Central Stores for any supplies you may require for the mission."
"Yes, sir." Harry did leave Kingsley's office then, and returned to his own to plan for his mission.
* * * * *
Snow fell thickly from steel-grey clouds. The shops were decorated for the holiday, and from the number of Hogwarts students in the streets, Harry assumed it must be a Hogsmeade Weekend. The days and weeks since setting out to bring in Yaxley had blurred together in Harry's mind. He'd slept little, in fits and starts when absolutely necessary, and had consumed far more Pepper Up than was medically advisable. But he had done it. As soon as Yaxley was safely behind bars, Harry had taken a Portkey directly to Hogsmeade. He was so bone-tired; he hadn't trusted himself not to get splinched.
His boots made a crunching sound, and his breath formed a cloud in front of his face as he walked along the path to the Hogwarts gate. The entrance hall was empty, as were the corridors and staircases - uncharacteristically immobile - leading to the headmaster's office on the seventh floor.
"Oleander," said Harry to the gargoyle. Unlike his previous visits, the gargoyle didn't move.
"I don't suppose you'd tell me the new password," said Harry to the gargoyle. The gargoyle didn't respond.
Harry thought for a few moments, trying to remember the names of other poisonous plants Snape might use as a password.
"Amanita?" Not technically a plant, the mushrooms were among the most toxic in the world, Harry knew. The gargoyle remained still.
"Hemlock?" Too obvious, Harry thought. Then, Harry smiled, remembering the season.
"Mistletoe!" Finally, the gargoyle allowed Harry access to the revolving staircase. It seemed that Snape had a holiday spirit, after all.
Harry knocked on the door and stepped back to wait. He was about to go back down the staircase when the door finally opened.
"Ah, the hero returns," said Snape. He was dressed casually in a v-necked pullover - black, of course - and black trousers. His hair, which had been tied back in their previous meetings, hung loose, a curtain of black hanging down past his shoulders. Nice, thought Harry.
"Hello, Headmaster Snape."
"What brings you to Hogwarts, Mr Potter?" Snape's tone suggested that Harry had put him out by knocking on his door.
Harry tried not to be disappointed that Snape had reverted to addressing him by his surname - though the memory of hearing the man's low voice saying 'Harry' had been one of the things that had kept him going while on the hunt for Yaxley.
"I caught him. Yaxley." Harry was too tired to sound excited. "He's in a holding cell at the Ministry."
"Then shouldn't you be interrogating the man?" asked Snape.
"That's no longer my job," said Harry. "Actually, that's part of why I am here, to ask if there's any way-"
"Surely you aren't in need of employment," interrupted Snape. "I'm certain the Ministry would give you whatever placement you desired after bringing in Yaxley and his cohorts."
"I resigned from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," clarified Harry. "I've done my time with the Ministry, and I don't want to do it any longer."
"Indeed, Mr. Potter," sneered Snape. "If that will be all, I've a book and an eighteen-year-old bottle of Oban I'd like to return to." Snape stepped back into his office and started to close the door.
"Wait, sir!"
Snape raised his eyebrow at Harry. "What is it, Mr Potter?"
"Well," began Harry. "I wanted to thank you, sir. For everything."
"You have already thanked me, Mr Potter."
Harry took a deep breath. It's now or never, he thought. "Could I...? Would you...?"
"Spit it out, Mr Potter, or leave me be." Snape started closing the door again.
"I'd like to take you to dinner," said Harry so quietly he could hardly hear himself speaking.
"You wish to have dinner with me?" asked Snape. The thoughtful look on his face told Harry that he might actually be considering the prospect. "Are you asking me on a date, Mr Potter?"
"Yes, I believe I am," said Harry. "And if I am, I think you should probably call me Harry again. After all, you did manage it once before."
"Indeed."
"Is that a yes?" Harry mentally crossed his fingers, hoping the Muggle trick would bring him the answer he wanted.
Snape was quiet for several breaths - and Harry counted each one of them until Snape spoke. "Yes."
"Thank you, Severus. May I call you Severus? Of course, if you're going to call me Harry, then I should call you Severus, right?" Harry knew he probably sounded like a blithering idiot, but the relief had left him feeling as though he'd swallowed a phial of Babbling Beverage and he couldn't stop himself.
Snape stepped closer, extended his arm, and brought a finger to Harry's lips. Harry grew quiet.
"You are obviously in need of rest," said Severus. His nose wrinkled, as though he'd smelt something foul. "And a shower." Apparently it was Harry that smelt foul. Of course, he had come straight from the Ministry, and he couldn't remember when he'd last bathed.
Harry nodded, not speaking for fear that he'd start babbling again.
"Hagrid has not yet returned from Beauxbatons. You may use his hut for the next few days to sleep and rejuvenate. Wednesday, the students go home for Yule, and as there are only a handful of them staying behind this year, I'm sure Professors O'Hara and Johnson can handle them."
"I could probably sleep right through to Wednesday if I tried," said Harry with a smile. "But I will clean up first. Shall I make us a reservation?"
"You asked me out. I expect no less of my dates." Severus turned, stepped back into his office, and closed the door.
Despite his exhaustion, Harry all but danced his way down the stone steps and out of the castle.
* * * * *
At exactly ten minutes before eight o'clock, Harry knocked on the door to the headmaster's office. The few students who remained for the holidays were in the Great Hall playing parlour games, supervised by the two newest professors on staff.
Harry had made a reservation at Odin's, a Muggle restaurant south of Regent Park. Far enough from Wizarding London that they could be discreet, the restaurant appeared to be a suitable spot for a first date. Harry smiled, and was still smiling when Severus opened the door wearing a dark Muggle suit.
"Good evening, Severus." Harry smiled, and offered him a sprig of holly for his lapel.
"Good evening, Harry. You appear to be well rested."
"I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I think I slept for thirty straight hours," said Harry. "Another twenty-four and I may be caught up," he joked.
"Indeed."
"Shall we go?" asked Harry. "We have an eight o'clock reservation."
Severus nodded and Summoned his travelling cloak before locking his office door. They walked to the gates in silence, twin footsteps echoing in the empty corridors.
They Apparated to an alleyway around the corner from Odin's and walked the short distance to the entrance. Muted light could be seen through the curtained front windows of the restaurant, illuminating the gently falling snow.
A distinguished looking gentleman named Roderick seated them at a white-draped table in a corner of the room and gave a curt bow before leaving them with their menus.
"It has been a long time since I was last here," remarked Severus once they were alone. "I believe Roderick was a mere busboy at that time."
"Impossible," said Harry, smiling. "He looks as though he was already old the year you were born."
"Perhaps," said Severus. "At any rate, the decor and the clientele appear to have changed little."
"I've never been here," admitted Harry. "Hermione actually suggested it to me. Thought it would be nice to get away from the Wizarding world for a bit."
"They do say that discretion is the better part of valour," quipped Severus.
"I've never really understood that expression," said Harry sheepishly.
"Perhaps I'll explain it to you in the morning." Severus' cheeks were tinged faintly pink, and Harry felt himself blush at the thought of what 'in the morning' actually meant.
Harry hid his red cheeks behind his menu until their waiter arrived at their table. Harry deferred to Severus when it came to ordering the wine - Harry himself didn't know a Pinot Noir from pumpkin juice.
When their waiter - Jonathan, Harry thought he'd called himself - returned, he poured a splash of wine into a glass and presented it to Severus, who swirled the wine, sniffed it, took a sip, and then finally nodded his approval. Jonathan took their orders: roast duck for Severus, and lamb curry for Harry.
Harry sipped his wine, and watched Severus over the rim of his wineglass. In his early forties, Severus looked better than he had when he'd been Harry's professor. His hair, which had always been greasy and lank, shone with health, and there wasn't a grey hair on his head, Harry noted. He even looked comfortable in the Muggle clothes he wore - the suit appeared to have been made to order - though a tailoring spell may have been responsible for the fit.
While they waited for their food, Harry filled Severus in on how he'd tracked down Yaxley to a remote cabin in Snowdonia, abandoned by the Albanians.
"In the end I think he'd gone as crazy as Bellatrix Lestrange," commented Harry. "All those years alone, on the run, still in service to Voldemort even after the end of the second war."
"No doubt he was insane," agreed Severus. "He always was a bit off, even in school."
Harry's question about Yaxley was cut off by the arrival of their meals. Harry's curry was wonderful, flavourful without being too spicy. The basmati rice was the perfect accompaniment - Harry had always liked basmati better than what he considered 'ordinary' rice.
"How's the duck?" asked Harry once he'd eaten more than half his curry. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until he had food in front of him. Maybe I should have woken up to eat a few times instead of sleeping straight through, Harry thought.
"Very good," said Severus. "The sage stuffing is quite nice, and the meat is cooked perfectly."
Once they'd both cleared their plates, Jonathan returned with the dessert trolley. Severus declined dessert, but ordered coffee, and Harry, still hungry, chose the date and ginger pudding. With butterscotch sauce.
* * * * *
From behind his coffee cup, Severus watched Harry tuck into his pudding with the same relish with which he'd attacked his curry. Harry already looked much better than he had when he'd first returned to Hogwarts - and when he'd come back just a few days ago from bringing in Yaxley. His hair was longer than he had as a student. It somehow didn't look as wild as it had when it had been shorter. Harry wore sleek, frameless spectacles - gone were the round frames he'd worn throughout his school days. The boy has certainly grown up into a fine looking young man, thought Severus, not for the first time.
"Is there something on my face?" asked Harry, breaking Severus out of his reverie.
Severus glanced at Harry's plate - now all but licked clean - and felt his cheeks redden.
"I apologise if I was staring," said Severus. "You look well, Harry."
Harry blushed. "Thank you. Shall we go?"
Severus nodded, and Harry signalled to Jonathan to bring their bill, paying with a stack of Muggle pounds that Severus was certain included a generous gratuity.
Standing outside on the pavement, Harry said, "Normally I'd suggest a walk after dinner, but if it's all the same to you, I'd like to go back to Hogwarts."
"That would be… acceptable."
Harry reached for Severus' hand and led him back to the alley they'd first Apparated into. Severus felt the pull of Side-Along Apparition almost as soon as they'd turned the corner - but not before he noticed the spark of energy that coursed between their fingers when their hands touched.
It had been snowing in London, but the sky was clear and the air was cold as they walked up the path from the main gate. When they reached the point where the path branched off towards Hagrid's cabin, Severus felt Harry hesitate beside him.
"You wouldn't want to come to Hagrid's for a nightcap, would you?"
"Thank you… no," said Severus.
Harry slumped, his disappointment obvious. Severus was quick to reassure him. "That doesn't mean I don't wish to share a nightcap with you. I just don't want to do it in Hagrid's... hut."
Harry beamed and threw his arms about Severus' neck. Harry kissed him, tentatively at first, but it quickly progressed to something much more erotic. Severus pulled back, saying, "Let's take this inside, shall we?"
Harry nodded, and they continued up the path to the castle doors. They encountered no one as they made their way to Severus' chambers.
* * * * *
Severus' private chambers lay beyond a set of bookshelves in the headmaster's office that Harry had always thought was just a wall of books. There was a sitting area with a fireplace and beyond that, a bedroom furnished with dark wood furniture and bedding in a rich forest green.
A wave of Severus' wand lit candles on the dressing table, casting a warm light that made Severus' skin glow. Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, Harry launched himself at Severus, worming his hands under Severus' suit jacket so he could feel the play of muscles in Severus' back as he kissed him again. He licked at the seam of Severus' lips and groaned when they parted, allowing his tongue access to the moist heat of Severus' mouth.
Nimble fingers attacked Harry's belt, unfastening the buckle and sliding it out of his trousers. Harry pressed his hips forward and was rewarded by Severus' hand cupping his length. It felt so good through his trousers and pants that Harry's hips began to move rhythmically against Severus' hand, wanting, needing the friction that might bring his release.
Harry's own fingers had untucked Severus' shirt from his trousers and were now happily exploring the smooth, warm skin of Severus' back. Harry gasped when he felt Severus take his erection in hand. When did he manage to unzip me? Harry wondered for a brief moment before giving in to the sensation.
Severus broke their kiss long enough to pant out, "Bed."
They stumbled their way to Severus' king sized bed, somehow managing to shed some, but not all, of their clothing along the way, and fell together on top of the duvet. Someone - Severus, Harry thought - whispered a spell and suddenly they were both naked. Severus' eyes flashed with desire in the candlelight.
Harry propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Severus, his hair fanned out behind him on the duvet. "Beautiful."
"Hardly," Severus snorted. "It's you who's beautiful." At that, he reached up and cupped the back of Harry's neck, pulling him in for another kiss.
Harry straddled him, draping himself over Severus' body, wanting to touch as much of him as possible. The arrangement of their bodies brought their cocks into alignment, and Harry moved his hips, sliding his erection along Severus' length for a few glorious moments before Severus rolled them, and their positions were reversed.
Severus kissed a trail from Harry's mouth, stopping to suck at his Adams apple and to tease each nipple in turn until they were pebbled peaks. Harry carded his fingers into Severus' hair, marvelling at the silky feel of it against his skin. As Severus moved down Harry's body, kissing and nipping and licking for what seemed like an eternity, all thought left Harry's mind. He cried out as Severus engulfed him to the root and at the same time, one slender finger teased at Harry's entrance. Harry's fingers tightened in Severus' hair, and his hips thrust upwards into Severus' mouth as Severus licked and sucked and pulled an earth-shattering orgasm from him.
A small jar somehow landed on the bed beside Harry; Severus obviously excelled at wandless and wordless magic, since Harry hadn't heard him Summon it. The next thing he felt was a cool slickness as Severus spread the lubricant over his entrance and worked one, and then two, fingers inside him.
The fingers left for a moment, and Harry mewled at their absence until he felt the blunt head of Severus' cock pressing at his entrance. He spread his legs and pulled his knees back towards his chest, and when Severus slid into him, it felt like home. Wrapping his legs around Severus' waist, Harry moved beneath Severus, matching him thrust for thrust until he felt Severus shuddering his release into him, and stars exploded behind Harry's eyes.
They lay together, sticky and sated, for several minutes before either of them moved.
* * * * *
Harry woke up disoriented the next morning - the bed was unfamiliar, not his own and certainly not Hagrid's. Then a soft snore beside him reminded him that he was not alone and exactly whose bed he was sleeping in. Harry carefully rolled over so as not to disturb Severus and watched him sleep for a few moments.
After their first, desperate coupling, they'd shared a bath and made love again at a more leisurely pace, learning each others' bodies, their likes and desires. Harry smiled when he remembered discovering that Severus had ticklish feet and blushed at the memory of how good Severus' tongue had felt deep inside him.
"Good morning," said Severus in a sleep-roughened voice.
"Good morning, Severus." Harry's stomach growled.
"Shall I ring the kitchens, or do you wish to eat breakfast in the Great Hall?"
Harry looked down at himself, and then over at Severus, whose naked body was only partly covered by the duvet. "I think we're a little underdressed for the Great Hall, don't you?"
"I would have suggested we get dressed first, but the idea of breakfast in bed does have its appeal."
When Pippy brought them breakfast, included on the tray was a parchment scroll tied with blue ribbon. Severus quickly scanned the note's contents and passed it to Harry.
Dear Headmaster Snape,
I am writing to inform you that Rubeus will be remaining in France with me indefinitely, as he is now my husband. I trust you will be able to replace him as groundskeeper at Hogwarts.
Bonne chance et au revoir,
Olympe Maxime
"It appears that you are in need of a groundskeeper."
"Are you applying for the job?"
"Indeed, I am," said Harry.
* * * * *
Wizengamot Exonerates Harry Potter. Again.
January 13, 2004.
by Rita Skeeter
Staff Reporter
Following investigations by Hermione Thomas (née Granger) and Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Wizengamot has exonerated former Auror Harry Potter from all wrongdoing in the deaths of his partners, Senior Auror John Dawlish and Auror Ronald Weasley. "We knew Harry couldn’t have had anything to do with it," said Arthur Weasley upon learning the Wizengamot's ruling.
This reporter has learned that Mr Potter will be taking over for Rubeus Hagrid in the position of groundskeeper permanently, a position he filled while suspended from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Mr Hagrid was recently wed to Madame Olympe Maxime of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Quite the career change for the Boy Who Lived, though it is this reporter's opinion that the DMLE will be better off without Mr Potter's antics.
End
Author: angela_snape
Other pairings/threesome: n/a
Rating: R
Word count: ~9K
Warning(s): Character death (not Snape or Harry), not epilogue-compliant
Summary: Harry is suspended as an Auror because of a botched case at the Ministry. Headmaster Snape agrees to allow Harry to fill in temporarily as groundskeeper until he can find other employment.
A/N: Thank you to leela_cat, beta-extraordinaire. Any mistakes still in the text were added after she had it last.
* * * * *
Potter's Position in Peril after Partners Perish
October 17, 2003.
by Rita Skeeter
Staff Reporter
Following an ambush attack during a botched Death Eater recovery mission, Senior Auror John Dawlish and Auror Ronald Weasley were pronounced dead by mediwizards at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Auror Harry Potter, a.k.a. The Boy Who Lived, survived the attack and is recovering from his injuries at an undisclosed location. This reporter has also learned that Mr Potter has been relieved of duties pending an investigation of the attack and whether his actions - or perhaps his inaction - may have contributed to his fellow Aurors' deaths. Funeral services for the deceased have not yet been announced.
* * * * *
The funeral had been a sombre occasion. Well, most funerals were, but to have lost two members of his team and his best friend-- Harry's heart clenched at the memory of Molly Weasley's eyes looking right through him. So much for his honorary family. His best friend was dead, and it was all his fault.
Harry surveyed his office one last time before setting the wards and locking the door. At least the Ministry had waited until after the funeral to suspend him - contrary to what the Prophet had reported. Harry stifled a sigh and blinked in an attempt to relieve the dryness of his eyes. It felt as though he'd cried until he'd run out of tears. For failing to keep his team safe, Harry had been suspended, but the way he was feeling, he'd rather have been sentenced to Azkaban.
The pay he didn't really need, thanks to Sirius' bequest, but all he'd ever wanted to be was an Auror... what was he going to do with his life?
* * * * *
"Oleander."
Harry hid a smile as he followed Headmaster Snape up the spiral staircase to his office. Leave it to an ex-Death Eater to use a poisonous plant as his password.
Entering the headmaster's office, Harry was surprised to see that its contents had changed very little in the five years since he'd viewed Snape's memories in Dumbledore's Pensieve. Snape sat behind the large, claw-footed desk that Dumbledore had used and indicated that Harry should sit in the visitor's chair.
"Minerva mentioned your… predicament at our last staff meeting," Snape began in a tone of voice that made Harry remember all the times Snape had given him detention or taken away House points when he was a student.
Harry felt his cheeks flush, then swallowed down his embarrassment and nodded. "Yes, sir. It was in The Daily Prophet."
"Hagrid has asked for some time off," Snape continued in that same tone, and Harry dug his fingernails into his palms to stave off the erection he felt filling his trousers. When had Snape become so dead sexy? Harry thought.
"...Maxime."
"Er… sorry?"
"Please do pay attention, Mr Potter." Snape arched one elegant eyebrow at him, and Harry's blush deepened.
"S-sorry, sir," Harry stuttered. He cleared his throat, then said, "Please, sir. You were saying?"
"I was saying, before your eyes glazed over completely, that Hagrid has asked for a leave of absence so that he may take a temporary position at Beauxbatons and spend more time with Madame Maxime."
"And you need someone to fill in as groundskeeper while Hagrid is at Beauxbatons," Harry suggested.
"If only you'd had such powers of deduction while you were a student here," Snape observed. "Perhaps you wouldn't be here in this office, now."
"Touché." Harry sighed and pushed up from the chair. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Sit down, Mr Potter," Snape commanded. Harry sat, crossed his legs at the ankle, and tucked his legs under the chair.
"While the position of groundskeeper is not a particularly taxing one, it helps if the person performing that role has a familiarity with both the grounds and the animals of the Forbidden Forest," said Snape. "Mr Potter, in your time here at Hogwarts, you became quite familiar with both Hagrid and his duties."
"Yes, sir," Harry responded, mainly to make sure Snape knew he was paying attention.
"Hagrid's salary is much below that of an Auror, but the job includes room and board."
"I'm not really concerned about salary, sir," said Harry. "Sirius left me the Black fortune. What I really need right now is something to do, to keep me busy and keep my mind off... things."
Snape was quiet, his black eyes boring a hole into Harry's chest. Harry shifted in his seat, leaning forward a little and bracing his hands on the arms of the chair.
"Indeed, Mr Potter."
Snape's voice had dropped an octave, and Harry waited for Snape to continue as a curl of desire burned low in his belly. Harry regulated his breathing, using a technique Luna had taught him for dealing with stress without reaching for the Firewhisky.
Snape stood. "You may begin tomorrow. As there are currently no free staff quarters in the main castle, you may use Hagrid's hut. I presume those accommodations will suit your needs."
Harry nodded, stood, and extended his hand. "Thank you, Headmaster Snape."
Snape appeared to hesitate a moment before grasping Harry's hand. A brief flicker of sensation sparked between their fingers, and Harry released his hand.
"You may go, Mr Potter. I have administrative matters to attend."
* * * * *
Harry Potter. With his mother's green eyes and his father's wild hair, the boy had certainly grown up into a very attractive young man.
Severus had stretched the truth somewhat - there could be accommodations in the main castle, as it used wizard space so as to have sufficient rooms for whatever number of staff was employed at the school at any particular time. Hagrid had always preferred the solitude of his cabin on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, and that seemed to be a good place for Harry for the time being.
As brusque as he'd been in their meeting that morning, Severus felt for the boy. Harry and his team had walked into an ambush. Yaxley had been on the run since the first war and had found a group of Voldemort sympathisers from Albania. The Albanians had lured the Aurors to the remote cabin north of York, only to attack soon after their arrival. The Ministry was laying blame on Harry, though in Severus' opinion, they were looking for a scapegoat, and Harry had had the misfortune of being the only Auror who'd survived the attack.
The cabin - what was left of it - bore evidence of an extended magical battle. Many curses had been cast that night. It was surprising that Harry had survived the attack at all. Or perhaps it was a testament to his powerful magic - having survived the Killing Curse as an infant, and then returning from the dead during the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter was obviously difficult to kill.
* * * * *
Harry walked slowly down the path towards Hagrid's hut. A thin wisp of smoke rose from the chimney, and Harry could see the flickering light of a candle through the window. Stopping to listen for a moment, Harry heard the cry of a Thestral from within the dark forest, and the leaves rustling in the wind.
The heavy wooden door creaked on its hinges when Harry opened it. Inside, a low fire burned in the hearth, and a hurricane lamp shone from the table. Harry set his rucksack on the floor near the door and moved through the hut, examining its contents. Much of the cabin was the same as Harry remembered from his many visits to Hagrid as a student. Large, plain furniture, serviceable dishes, and a cooking fire with a cauldron mounted above.
A folded length of parchment sealed with red wax was on the table. The impression in the seal was a stylised thistle surrounding the letter 'M'. Professor McGonagall.
Dear Harry,
You have been under considerable stress. Please feel free to stay at Hogwarts for as long as you deem necessary. Hagrid will happily remain at Beauxbatons so that you may continue in the position of groundskeeper for as long as you require.
While you may prefer the solitude of Hagrid's hut, I encourage you to take your meals at the Head Table with the rest of the staff.
Minerva McGonagall
Harry smiled. It was nice to know that his former Head of House was still looking out for him. He filled the teakettle and set it on the stove to boil. A quick search of the cupboards revealed an unopened packet of chocolate digestives, and Harry took out a plate and mug for his afternoon tea. He could do with a cuppa.
* * * * *
Harry quickly settled into a routine of sorts. He took his meals in the Great Hall, sitting at the end of the Head Table nearest Gryffindor House. He ate quickly and spoke little. The professors who'd known him as a student gave him a wide berth, as if sensing his need for solitude among the masses of the student body. The new professors - some git from America was teaching Defence, and an Irish woman had taken on the Muggle Studies course - had initially tried to engage him in conversation, but they stopped when he answered them primarily in monosyllables.
Other than at meals, Harry never saw Headmaster Snape. Harry spent most of his time out-of-doors, working in the forest, helping Neville and Professor Sprout with the gardens (mostly by bringing them dung from the forest's magical creatures) and caring for the Thestral herd. Occasionally, he also ventured out onto the lake, feeling a bit small in the boat that Hagrid reserved for his own use.
The groundskeeper's position was not a taxing one. Physically, yes, and Harry was happy to have the opportunity to burn off his excess energy, but not mentally. It gave him time to think. Perhaps too much time.
The physical nature of the position ensured that Harry was tired enough to sleep at nights without the aid of a potion, though he was often tempted to use Dreamless Sleep to avoid the nightmares that were plaguing him. He kept hearing Yaxley's cackling laugh and seeing Ron's face just before the Killing Curse hit him. Then he would sit bolt upright in bed and wake up soaked in sweat, panting for breath.
* * * * *
Severus crumpled the morning edition of The Daily Prophet and tossed it into the fireplace. Since the ambush, Rita Skeeter's articles had been increasingly accusatory. It seemed that Potter had become the convenient scapegoat, simply because he had survived the attack. And since it was not well known that Potter was currently employed at Hogwarts, there had been a whole series of articles in the Prophet that were focussed more on Potter's whereabouts than on learning the truth. That seemed to always be the way with the Prophet, rag that it was. Severus briefly considered cancelling his subscription, but discarded the thought. He did enjoy their Fiendishly Difficult Crosswords.
Deciding to look into things himself, Severus contacted Kingsley Shacklebolt at the Ministry of Magic. In the more than five years since the war's end, Kingsley had run the Ministry efficiently and effectively. He was a very hands-on Minister, which was what Wizarding Britain had needed after the years of turmoil leading up to and during the second war.
Severus tossed Floo powder into the flames and called, "Kingsley Shacklebolt!" As an Order member and a friend of Kingsley's, it was nice being able to bypass the Minister's secretary by calling him directly.
"Severus, I am glad you contacted me," said Kingsley's flickering image once they'd done with the pleasantries. "Harry had told me that he'd be working at Hogwarts, but I have not heard from him since he left London."
"I don't think he has contacted anyone since his arrival at Hogwarts," said Severus. "He receives no mail and has had no visitors as far as I am aware."
"Severus, can we meet somewhere? Not at Hogwarts - I don't want to worry Harry."
"I presume you also do not wish for me to come to the Ministry?"
"There is something odd going on here," said Kingsley quietly, after looking back over his shoulder as if to ensure that he was still alone in his office. "I'd rather not have people know you are visiting."
"The Hog's Head is usually quiet on Saturday afternoons," suggested Severus. "Would that suit?"
"Fine," agreed Kingsley. "Two o'clock?"
Severus agreed and closed the Floo connection. He sent a note to Minerva telling her he had an errand in Hogsmeade and asking her to deal with any matters that came up in his absence.
As expected, the Hog's Head Inn was dimly lit and nearly empty when Severus arrived. With a nod at Aberforth, he ordered a glass of Ogden's and took a seat in a dark corner. Severus was not alone at his table for long.
A tall, cloaked figure entered the room soon after Severus was served his drink. Severus recognised Kingsley from his gait. However, he had obviously taken pains to disguise himself, if the pale hand clutching the front of his travelling cloak was any indication.
"Severus." Kingsley sat in the chair opposite and shrugged out of his cloak. Severus smiled when he saw that the man sitting before him looked a lot more like Lucius Malfoy than Kingsley Shacklebolt. He even carried a silver-tipped walking stick.
Severus nodded in response and took a sip of his Firewhisky. He waited while the amber liquid burned a path down his oesophagus, and then he spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Has there been any investigation into the ambush?"
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement lost three Aurors as a result of the attack; the two who were killed, and Harry by way of his suspension. They are a bit overworked right now and quite short-handed."
"Do they not want to know what happened?" Severus was incredulous.
"As I said earlier, there is something odd going on at the Ministry," said Kingsley. "It is almost as though someone wanted Harry thrown out of the DMLE. There is a surprising amount of anti-Potter sentiment at the Ministry right now. Even Arthur won't talk about him."
"I find that difficult to believe. Harry was practically an honorary Weasley from the time he began at Hogwarts," said Severus. "Even though he didn't marry Ginevra."
"Molly and Arthur are taking Ron's death very hard," said Kingsley. "It's worse than when Fred was killed in the final battle. Arthur is still working, but it is as if he is in a fog all the time. And I've not seen Molly outside the Burrow since the memorial service."
"You said the Department is short-handed. Is anyone investigating the attack?"
"Yes," said Kingsley. "I've borrowed Hermione Thomas from the Department of Mysteries. She's not an Auror, but she's a crack researcher. If anyone can get to the bottom of things, she can."
Severus agreed. Even though Hermione had been an annoying know-it-all as a student, she was an excellent researcher, and as a friend of both Harry and Ron, she could be impartial as she was looking out for both their interests.
Kingsley and Severus spoke for a few minutes longer, exchanging personal theories on how the ambush had been orchestrated, then shook hands and parted company.
* * * * *
The commotion started as Harry was leaving the Great Hall the following Tuesday, after lunch.
"You killed my father! Murderer! Some hero you are," shouted Anthony Dawlish even as two prefects held him back.
Harry mumbled, "'M sorry. So sorry," and slunk towards the doors of the Great Hall. Harry's stomach churned and a lump formed in his throat as he fought back the memories of the attack.
"What is going on here?" shouted Snape, who'd just stormed into the Great Hall, robes billowing out behind him.
"He killed my father!" repeated young Dawlish, a third year student in Gryffindor.
"Did Mr Potter cast the curse that killed your father?" asked Severus in the same voice he'd always used to assign detentions.
The boy mumbled an inaudible response.
"Speak up, boy!" commanded Snape. "I asked you a question, and I expect an answer."
"No, sir."
"Then why do you suggest that he did?"
"He-- he must've been involved," sputtered Dawlish. "How else could he be the only one who survived the attack?"
"It would not be the first time that Mr Potter survived an attack on his life," said Snape. "He is a very powerful wizard."
"So powerful he couldn't save my father?" countered Dawlish. "Maybe he just let my father die." A moment passed before the boy continued, "And his best friend, too."
Harry felt his shoulders hunch, almost reflexively, and he wished there was a way around the anti-Apparition wards so he could disappear from the Great Hall. Or that he could shrink in upon himself until he no longer existed.
"That's enough, Mr Dawlish," said Snape. "You will report to Mr Filch for detention this evening. And fifty points from Gryffindor."
Dawlish gaped at the Headmaster. "Detention, sir?"
"Mr Potter is a member of this staff, and your behaviour towards him just now has been unacceptable," said Snape. "You will serve the detention tonight, and another tomorrow for talking back to me. Go to class. I'm sure Professor O'Hara and your classmates from Gryffindor are expecting you."
"Yes, sir." Dawlish and his friends left the Great Hall.
Snape directed his glare at the students lingering by the doors. "Anyone who is late for their next class will lose House points."
Alone with him in the Great Hall now, Snape directed his attention at Harry. "Mr Potter, please come to my office immediately after you complete your duties for the afternoon." He then turned on his heel and stalked away in the direction from which he had come.
Harry watched Snape leave before heading out for his afternoon in the forest, feeling like he had when Snape had protected Harry and his friends from Remus in his werewolf form. Relieved, with an underlying hint of… something indescribable.
* * * * *
Surprisingly hot and sweaty after working outside on a late autumn afternoon, Harry decided that although Snape had wanted to see him immediately after he'd completed his duties, it would be best if he first had a shower. 'Pong' did not begin to describe the odour emanating from Harry's armpits.
"Fervens." The heating spell brought the water to Harry's preferred temperature faster than a water heater ever could.
Harry looked in the mirror for a moment while he let the steam build. His face was haggard from many nights of nightmare-plagued sleep. His hair, which had always been unruly but at least healthy-looking, hung limply about his shoulders. He even thought his eyes had faded to a duller shade of green.
He stepped into the shower and stood there for a few minutes, water sluicing down his body. The heat from the pounding spray helped ease some of the tension from his shoulder muscles. Finally, he lathered his hair and began to spread the excess foam over his skin. When Harry's hand reached his cock, an image of Snape, robes billowing as he stalked into the Great Hall to rescue Harry, sprang to his mind.
Squirting more soap into his hand, Harry stroked the length of his shaft, twisting a little with each upstroke and swiping his thumb over the tip. He adjusted his stance to part his legs slightly and used his free hand to spread the slick soap over his bollocks and down to his perineum, before inserting his index finger into his anus. Harry groaned and increased the pace of his strokes, moving his hips in counterpoint to the rhythm of his hand.
As he came, spurting thick ropes of semen over the tiled wall of the shower, he saw stars and had only one thought. Snape!
* * * * *
Severus spent the afternoon conducting his own subtle investigation into the Yaxley Ambush, as he was beginning to call it in his mind. A few discreet Floo-calls and a delivery of back issues of The Quibbler had yielded enough information that Severus thought he knew what had happened. Now he just needed to compare the results of his research with that of Mrs Thomas, and perhaps they could put the matter to rest.
A knock at the door signalled Potter's arrival. A quick Peephole Charm confirmed it.
"Enter," called Severus, and the heavy wooden door swung inwards, admitting Potter.
Potter had obviously cleaned up prior to their meeting, as evidenced by the damp hair curling at his nape. He wore worn-looking, but clean Muggle clothes - jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt with trainers. The boy always did seem to prefer Muggle clothing. Looks good on him, Severus thought.
"I thought I asked you to come see me immediately following your afternoon duties," drawled Severus.
Potter had the decency to blush before responding. "I spent the afternoon in the Forbidden Forest, working on a new enclosure for the Thestrals. I didn't smell too good by the time I was finished, so I thought it would be a good idea to have a shower first."
Potter's flush had deepened as he finished speaking. Severus wondered why for a moment before he caught himself picturing Potter in the shower, leaning against the wet tiles as Severus fucked him from behind. Where did that come from? Severus wondered, in a panic.
"Indeed, Mr Potter." Severus indicated that Harry should sit in the chair opposite his desk and rung the kitchens. Moments later, a pillowcase-clad house-elf popped in with a tray of tea and biscuits. Chocolate biscuits, Severus was pleased to note. "Thank you, Pippy." The house-elf nodded vigorously before popping back out to the kitchens.
Harry stirred three cubes of sugar into his tea and added so much milk the liquid was nearly white. Severus also noticed that Harry took three of the chocolate biscuits.
"You wanted to see me, Headmaster Snape?" Harry asked once they'd both settled in with their teacups.
"Mr Potter." Severus paused, taking a slow breath. "Harry. I have made some enquiries regarding the incident in York. I need to meet with Miss Granger, er, Mrs Thomas to confirm some details, but I believe I know what happened."
Harry's eyes had widened at Severus' use of his given name, but quickly returned to their usual, myopic state behind his spectacles.
"Thank you, sir." Harry dunked a biscuit into his milky tea. "What have you learned?" He leant forward a little; the only sign of his having any interest in what Severus had to say.
"I will share that with you once I've spoken to Mrs Thomas. I also met with Minister Shacklebolt." Severus nibbled at a biscuit, savouring the dark chocolate that coated one side of it. "Kingsley tells me you've not been in contact with him since your arrival at Hogwarts."
"That's right," said Harry quietly. "To be honest, I haven't felt like talking much to anyone since I arrived here. I'm sure the staff have noticed."
"Minerva did mention that you'd been keeping to yourself outside of mealtimes." Severus offered Harry more tea, which he declined.
"So what now?" asked Harry. "Do I need to find myself another job, or is the Ministry going to take me back?"
"I do not know about the Ministry, but Hagrid had indicated that he will be staying in France through Yule. You may stay here at Hogwarts, for now, if you wish."
"Thank you, sir." Popping the last bite of a chocolate biscuit into his mouth, Harry stood. "I do appreciate everything you've done for me."
"I've done nothing but ask some questions, Mr Potter."
"I'm glad someone has," said Harry. "I think I'll have a quiet dinner alone tonight. Goodnight, Headmaster."
As the heavy wooden door closed behind Harry, Severus said quietly, "Goodnight, Harry."
Severus decided that Harry must still be in shock from the attack. Otherwise, he was certain that Harry would have been investigating on his own, as well. How could he not be?
* * * * *
Harry's footsteps echoed as he climbed the owlery stairs. Out of habit, he looked for Hedwig before the pang of remembering her death stopped him. He selected one of the school's owls and attached the parchment-wrapped phial to its leg. Harry offered the bird the palmful of bacon crumbs he'd saved from breakfast, before rubbing its head and saying, "Please take this to Hermione Thomas at the Department of Mysteries."
The tawny owl hooted softly, then took off, flying south over the lake. Harry watched until it flew out of sight.
Happy to be alone - though his performance of Hagrid's duties often found Harry alone - Harry looked out over the castle grounds. The lake sparkled in the late-afternoon sunlight. The air was cool and crisp, and leaves had turned orange and red in their annual show before the coming winter. The echoing footfalls of someone coming up the owlery stairs made Harry turn towards the door.
Anthony Dawlish was framed in the entryway. "Murderer," he spat as he drew his wand.
Harry's Auror training had him pulling out his own wand almost before Anthony's was completely drawn. "Expelliarmus!"
The boy's wand flew into Harry's outstretched hand, and he tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. For good measure, Harry used a simple binding spell that would limit Anthony's arm mobility, but that would allow him to move down the stairs safely.
"You may collect your wand from Headmaster Snape," said Harry, heading for the stairs. "I'm sure he'll want to know how you lost it."
* * * * *
Severus met with Hermione Thomas at the Hogs Head exactly one week after his meeting with Kingsley. She'd arrived ahead of him and had coincidentally chosen the same table in the same dark corner to await Severus' arrival at the pub. A curt nod at Aberforth and Severus joined her at the table. A grey travelling cloak was draped over the chair beside her, and there was a pile of parchment and books on the table in front of her. She'd tamed her bushy hair into some kind of twist at the back of her head, but otherwise looked the same as she had as a student.
"Hello, Headmaster Snape." Hermione smoothed an errant strand of hair behind her ear before continuing. "I'm glad you contacted me. I've collected a lot of information, and I think I have an idea of what happened, but I'd love your opinion on some of it."
"Indeed, Mrs Thomas." Severus accepted the glass of Firewhisky from Aberforth and took a sip before placing the glass on the scarred tabletop. "What have you learned?"
As Hermione recounted the facts as she'd compiled them, Severus paid careful attention, storing each fact away in his mind. Rather than interrupting with his questions, Severus encouraged her with monosyllables until she finished speaking.
"I have been making my own inquiries," said Severus finally. "And I have come to a similar conclusion. It was obvious from the start that Harry's team had been set up. The question was, by whom?"
"I agree," said Hermione.
"This information from the Royal Genealogical Society may be of interest to you," said Severus, passing over a printed sheet of paper.
Hermione's eyes went wide as she scanned the page. "Headmaster Snape, I think you've got it! We have to tell Kingsley and Harry!"
"Indeed."
* * * * *
"Oleander." The gargoyle moved aside to allow Harry access to the stairs that lead to Snape's office. As Harry rode up on the top step, he considered the letter he'd received from Hermione just that morning.
Dear Harry,
I'm glad to hear you are doing well at Hogwarts. Thank you for sending the memory - I'm surprised nobody at the Ministry had asked for it before now. Well, not really. The DMLE is in a bit of a shambles right now.
Headmaster Snape and I think we've figured out what happened. We're presenting our findings to Minister Shacklebolt this afternoon. Hope to see you soon with good news.
Love,
Hermione
As Harry raised his hand to knock on the Headmaster's office door, it swung inwards, admitting him. Hermione was already seated across from Snape's desk, a cup of tea perched on her knee. Snape indicated that Harry should take the empty chair beside Hermione.
Harry exchanged greetings with the others and looked expectantly at each, in turn. Hermione smiled encouragingly at him. Snape didn't scowl, which Harry also took as encouragement.
"Minister Shacklebolt couldn't get away from the Ministry to join us this evening," began Hermione. "But he was able to see the Headmaster and myself this afternoon. Kingsley sends his regards, Harry."
Harry nodded, but did not speak.
Snape cleared his throat before taking up the explanation. "It appears that Mr Yaxley had a cousin working at the Ministry."
"Wouldn't the Ministry have known that? It's not as though Yaxley is a very common name," said Harry.
"Eric Yoakley is using a variant surname. Nobody at the Ministry recognised him as being Yaxley's relative," explained Hermione in the matter-of-fact tone she'd always used in class. Somehow, Harry didn't mind her know-it-all attitude at that moment.
"Yoakley? I know him," said Harry. "He's a mousy little fellow in the Accounts department."
"Well, apparently he warned his cousin that your team was coming," said Hermione. "You didn't stand a chance of surviving, let alone taking them in." Hermione's eyes were bright with tears, and Harry reached over to lay his hand on her arm.
"So, Mr Potter," said Snape. "It appears your need for employment at Hogwarts has come to an end. I'm sure the DMLE will be wanting you back on active duty."
"Tha-- thank you, sir," stammered Harry, feeling a bit overwhelmed that a Ministry employee had ultimately been responsible for his best friend's death. He was glad that the mystery had been solved, but he wasn't sure he wanted to continue working as an Auror. "You too, Hermione. I know you probably haven't slept for the amount of research you've done for me. I owe you."
"Just catch them, Harry," said Hermione fiercely. "Just catch the bastards who killed Ron."
* * * * *
It had been a month since Harry had locked up his office. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust - even the cleaning fairies had stayed away from him, it seemed. Harry cast a quick dusting charm and set his rucksack on the floor beside his desk before heading for the Minister's suite of offices.
The mood at the Ministry was hushed, and few people acknowledged him as he walked the corridors and rode the lift. That was fine. Harry wasn't particularly interested in speaking to most of them before he talked to Kingsley.
Kingsley's secretary was a pretty young witch named Isabelle who had always flirted with Harry in the past. That morning, she spoke to him in clipped tones, asking him to take a seat before returning to her perusal of Witch Weekly. The cover of the magazine had a picture of Neville, shirtless, working in the Hogwarts gardens. The caption read, 'Sexiest Wizard Alive?'
Harry smiled, happy that his friend had shed his baby fat and that for once, the attention was off himself. Little do they know that Neville only has eyes for a certain red-haired dragon keeper, Harry thought.
"The Minister will see you now." Isabelle had barely glanced up from her magazine to tell Harry this. Harry thanked her anyway, and entered Kingsley's office.
"Ah, Harry," said Kingsley, standing behind his desk. "I'm so glad to see you. Sorry I couldn't be at Hogwarts yesterday to tell you the good news."
"That's all right," said Harry as he shook Kingsley's hand. "Hermione and Headmaster
Snape explained everything to me."
"Not everything, I imagine," Kingsley continued. "Mr Yoakley has been detained and has admitted to warning his cousin of your raid. He awaits a trial in front of the Wizengamot and will likely go to Azkaban for his role in the ambush."
"Thank you, sir."
"Harry, Yaxley and his compatriots are still at large." Kingsley pulled out a parchment scroll from a drawer in his desk. "This is the latest intelligence we've been able to gather. I'd like you to put together a team and bring them in."
Harry skimmed the scroll's contents. "I don't know if I'm ready for that, sir."
"You'll be leading the team as a Senior Auror, of course, with the raise in pay that accompanies the position. I may be able to get you an office with a window." Kingsley smiled. "I don't even have a window."
"I appreciate your faith in me, sir," said Harry. "I don't need a promotion. I don't even need the money. But I will do my best to bring Yaxley in and see him punished. Ron and John both deserve that." Harry paused before continuing, "I met his son, you know, at Hogwarts."
"Anthony? Of course, he'd be in what, second year now?" asked Kingsley.
"Third, actually," said Harry. "He's very angry. At me. Thinks his dad's death is my fault. I want to try and make it up to him."
"Name your team, Harry, and I will make it happen."
"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down." Harry was about to turn towards the door when he stopped. "Minister Shacklebolt, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to try and do this on my own… I don't want to endanger anyone else on this mission."
"Harry, I would feel more comfortable knowing that you weren't going to be working alone on this."
"Sir, with all due respect, I know the Department is under-staffed, and the new recruits won't be fully trained until after Yule. I'll do this on my own."
"As you wish, Harry." Kingsley shook Harry's hand. "See Central Stores for any supplies you may require for the mission."
"Yes, sir." Harry did leave Kingsley's office then, and returned to his own to plan for his mission.
* * * * *
Snow fell thickly from steel-grey clouds. The shops were decorated for the holiday, and from the number of Hogwarts students in the streets, Harry assumed it must be a Hogsmeade Weekend. The days and weeks since setting out to bring in Yaxley had blurred together in Harry's mind. He'd slept little, in fits and starts when absolutely necessary, and had consumed far more Pepper Up than was medically advisable. But he had done it. As soon as Yaxley was safely behind bars, Harry had taken a Portkey directly to Hogsmeade. He was so bone-tired; he hadn't trusted himself not to get splinched.
His boots made a crunching sound, and his breath formed a cloud in front of his face as he walked along the path to the Hogwarts gate. The entrance hall was empty, as were the corridors and staircases - uncharacteristically immobile - leading to the headmaster's office on the seventh floor.
"Oleander," said Harry to the gargoyle. Unlike his previous visits, the gargoyle didn't move.
"I don't suppose you'd tell me the new password," said Harry to the gargoyle. The gargoyle didn't respond.
Harry thought for a few moments, trying to remember the names of other poisonous plants Snape might use as a password.
"Amanita?" Not technically a plant, the mushrooms were among the most toxic in the world, Harry knew. The gargoyle remained still.
"Hemlock?" Too obvious, Harry thought. Then, Harry smiled, remembering the season.
"Mistletoe!" Finally, the gargoyle allowed Harry access to the revolving staircase. It seemed that Snape had a holiday spirit, after all.
Harry knocked on the door and stepped back to wait. He was about to go back down the staircase when the door finally opened.
"Ah, the hero returns," said Snape. He was dressed casually in a v-necked pullover - black, of course - and black trousers. His hair, which had been tied back in their previous meetings, hung loose, a curtain of black hanging down past his shoulders. Nice, thought Harry.
"Hello, Headmaster Snape."
"What brings you to Hogwarts, Mr Potter?" Snape's tone suggested that Harry had put him out by knocking on his door.
Harry tried not to be disappointed that Snape had reverted to addressing him by his surname - though the memory of hearing the man's low voice saying 'Harry' had been one of the things that had kept him going while on the hunt for Yaxley.
"I caught him. Yaxley." Harry was too tired to sound excited. "He's in a holding cell at the Ministry."
"Then shouldn't you be interrogating the man?" asked Snape.
"That's no longer my job," said Harry. "Actually, that's part of why I am here, to ask if there's any way-"
"Surely you aren't in need of employment," interrupted Snape. "I'm certain the Ministry would give you whatever placement you desired after bringing in Yaxley and his cohorts."
"I resigned from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," clarified Harry. "I've done my time with the Ministry, and I don't want to do it any longer."
"Indeed, Mr. Potter," sneered Snape. "If that will be all, I've a book and an eighteen-year-old bottle of Oban I'd like to return to." Snape stepped back into his office and started to close the door.
"Wait, sir!"
Snape raised his eyebrow at Harry. "What is it, Mr Potter?"
"Well," began Harry. "I wanted to thank you, sir. For everything."
"You have already thanked me, Mr Potter."
Harry took a deep breath. It's now or never, he thought. "Could I...? Would you...?"
"Spit it out, Mr Potter, or leave me be." Snape started closing the door again.
"I'd like to take you to dinner," said Harry so quietly he could hardly hear himself speaking.
"You wish to have dinner with me?" asked Snape. The thoughtful look on his face told Harry that he might actually be considering the prospect. "Are you asking me on a date, Mr Potter?"
"Yes, I believe I am," said Harry. "And if I am, I think you should probably call me Harry again. After all, you did manage it once before."
"Indeed."
"Is that a yes?" Harry mentally crossed his fingers, hoping the Muggle trick would bring him the answer he wanted.
Snape was quiet for several breaths - and Harry counted each one of them until Snape spoke. "Yes."
"Thank you, Severus. May I call you Severus? Of course, if you're going to call me Harry, then I should call you Severus, right?" Harry knew he probably sounded like a blithering idiot, but the relief had left him feeling as though he'd swallowed a phial of Babbling Beverage and he couldn't stop himself.
Snape stepped closer, extended his arm, and brought a finger to Harry's lips. Harry grew quiet.
"You are obviously in need of rest," said Severus. His nose wrinkled, as though he'd smelt something foul. "And a shower." Apparently it was Harry that smelt foul. Of course, he had come straight from the Ministry, and he couldn't remember when he'd last bathed.
Harry nodded, not speaking for fear that he'd start babbling again.
"Hagrid has not yet returned from Beauxbatons. You may use his hut for the next few days to sleep and rejuvenate. Wednesday, the students go home for Yule, and as there are only a handful of them staying behind this year, I'm sure Professors O'Hara and Johnson can handle them."
"I could probably sleep right through to Wednesday if I tried," said Harry with a smile. "But I will clean up first. Shall I make us a reservation?"
"You asked me out. I expect no less of my dates." Severus turned, stepped back into his office, and closed the door.
Despite his exhaustion, Harry all but danced his way down the stone steps and out of the castle.
* * * * *
At exactly ten minutes before eight o'clock, Harry knocked on the door to the headmaster's office. The few students who remained for the holidays were in the Great Hall playing parlour games, supervised by the two newest professors on staff.
Harry had made a reservation at Odin's, a Muggle restaurant south of Regent Park. Far enough from Wizarding London that they could be discreet, the restaurant appeared to be a suitable spot for a first date. Harry smiled, and was still smiling when Severus opened the door wearing a dark Muggle suit.
"Good evening, Severus." Harry smiled, and offered him a sprig of holly for his lapel.
"Good evening, Harry. You appear to be well rested."
"I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I think I slept for thirty straight hours," said Harry. "Another twenty-four and I may be caught up," he joked.
"Indeed."
"Shall we go?" asked Harry. "We have an eight o'clock reservation."
Severus nodded and Summoned his travelling cloak before locking his office door. They walked to the gates in silence, twin footsteps echoing in the empty corridors.
They Apparated to an alleyway around the corner from Odin's and walked the short distance to the entrance. Muted light could be seen through the curtained front windows of the restaurant, illuminating the gently falling snow.
A distinguished looking gentleman named Roderick seated them at a white-draped table in a corner of the room and gave a curt bow before leaving them with their menus.
"It has been a long time since I was last here," remarked Severus once they were alone. "I believe Roderick was a mere busboy at that time."
"Impossible," said Harry, smiling. "He looks as though he was already old the year you were born."
"Perhaps," said Severus. "At any rate, the decor and the clientele appear to have changed little."
"I've never been here," admitted Harry. "Hermione actually suggested it to me. Thought it would be nice to get away from the Wizarding world for a bit."
"They do say that discretion is the better part of valour," quipped Severus.
"I've never really understood that expression," said Harry sheepishly.
"Perhaps I'll explain it to you in the morning." Severus' cheeks were tinged faintly pink, and Harry felt himself blush at the thought of what 'in the morning' actually meant.
Harry hid his red cheeks behind his menu until their waiter arrived at their table. Harry deferred to Severus when it came to ordering the wine - Harry himself didn't know a Pinot Noir from pumpkin juice.
When their waiter - Jonathan, Harry thought he'd called himself - returned, he poured a splash of wine into a glass and presented it to Severus, who swirled the wine, sniffed it, took a sip, and then finally nodded his approval. Jonathan took their orders: roast duck for Severus, and lamb curry for Harry.
Harry sipped his wine, and watched Severus over the rim of his wineglass. In his early forties, Severus looked better than he had when he'd been Harry's professor. His hair, which had always been greasy and lank, shone with health, and there wasn't a grey hair on his head, Harry noted. He even looked comfortable in the Muggle clothes he wore - the suit appeared to have been made to order - though a tailoring spell may have been responsible for the fit.
While they waited for their food, Harry filled Severus in on how he'd tracked down Yaxley to a remote cabin in Snowdonia, abandoned by the Albanians.
"In the end I think he'd gone as crazy as Bellatrix Lestrange," commented Harry. "All those years alone, on the run, still in service to Voldemort even after the end of the second war."
"No doubt he was insane," agreed Severus. "He always was a bit off, even in school."
Harry's question about Yaxley was cut off by the arrival of their meals. Harry's curry was wonderful, flavourful without being too spicy. The basmati rice was the perfect accompaniment - Harry had always liked basmati better than what he considered 'ordinary' rice.
"How's the duck?" asked Harry once he'd eaten more than half his curry. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until he had food in front of him. Maybe I should have woken up to eat a few times instead of sleeping straight through, Harry thought.
"Very good," said Severus. "The sage stuffing is quite nice, and the meat is cooked perfectly."
Once they'd both cleared their plates, Jonathan returned with the dessert trolley. Severus declined dessert, but ordered coffee, and Harry, still hungry, chose the date and ginger pudding. With butterscotch sauce.
* * * * *
From behind his coffee cup, Severus watched Harry tuck into his pudding with the same relish with which he'd attacked his curry. Harry already looked much better than he had when he'd first returned to Hogwarts - and when he'd come back just a few days ago from bringing in Yaxley. His hair was longer than he had as a student. It somehow didn't look as wild as it had when it had been shorter. Harry wore sleek, frameless spectacles - gone were the round frames he'd worn throughout his school days. The boy has certainly grown up into a fine looking young man, thought Severus, not for the first time.
"Is there something on my face?" asked Harry, breaking Severus out of his reverie.
Severus glanced at Harry's plate - now all but licked clean - and felt his cheeks redden.
"I apologise if I was staring," said Severus. "You look well, Harry."
Harry blushed. "Thank you. Shall we go?"
Severus nodded, and Harry signalled to Jonathan to bring their bill, paying with a stack of Muggle pounds that Severus was certain included a generous gratuity.
Standing outside on the pavement, Harry said, "Normally I'd suggest a walk after dinner, but if it's all the same to you, I'd like to go back to Hogwarts."
"That would be… acceptable."
Harry reached for Severus' hand and led him back to the alley they'd first Apparated into. Severus felt the pull of Side-Along Apparition almost as soon as they'd turned the corner - but not before he noticed the spark of energy that coursed between their fingers when their hands touched.
It had been snowing in London, but the sky was clear and the air was cold as they walked up the path from the main gate. When they reached the point where the path branched off towards Hagrid's cabin, Severus felt Harry hesitate beside him.
"You wouldn't want to come to Hagrid's for a nightcap, would you?"
"Thank you… no," said Severus.
Harry slumped, his disappointment obvious. Severus was quick to reassure him. "That doesn't mean I don't wish to share a nightcap with you. I just don't want to do it in Hagrid's... hut."
Harry beamed and threw his arms about Severus' neck. Harry kissed him, tentatively at first, but it quickly progressed to something much more erotic. Severus pulled back, saying, "Let's take this inside, shall we?"
Harry nodded, and they continued up the path to the castle doors. They encountered no one as they made their way to Severus' chambers.
* * * * *
Severus' private chambers lay beyond a set of bookshelves in the headmaster's office that Harry had always thought was just a wall of books. There was a sitting area with a fireplace and beyond that, a bedroom furnished with dark wood furniture and bedding in a rich forest green.
A wave of Severus' wand lit candles on the dressing table, casting a warm light that made Severus' skin glow. Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, Harry launched himself at Severus, worming his hands under Severus' suit jacket so he could feel the play of muscles in Severus' back as he kissed him again. He licked at the seam of Severus' lips and groaned when they parted, allowing his tongue access to the moist heat of Severus' mouth.
Nimble fingers attacked Harry's belt, unfastening the buckle and sliding it out of his trousers. Harry pressed his hips forward and was rewarded by Severus' hand cupping his length. It felt so good through his trousers and pants that Harry's hips began to move rhythmically against Severus' hand, wanting, needing the friction that might bring his release.
Harry's own fingers had untucked Severus' shirt from his trousers and were now happily exploring the smooth, warm skin of Severus' back. Harry gasped when he felt Severus take his erection in hand. When did he manage to unzip me? Harry wondered for a brief moment before giving in to the sensation.
Severus broke their kiss long enough to pant out, "Bed."
They stumbled their way to Severus' king sized bed, somehow managing to shed some, but not all, of their clothing along the way, and fell together on top of the duvet. Someone - Severus, Harry thought - whispered a spell and suddenly they were both naked. Severus' eyes flashed with desire in the candlelight.
Harry propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Severus, his hair fanned out behind him on the duvet. "Beautiful."
"Hardly," Severus snorted. "It's you who's beautiful." At that, he reached up and cupped the back of Harry's neck, pulling him in for another kiss.
Harry straddled him, draping himself over Severus' body, wanting to touch as much of him as possible. The arrangement of their bodies brought their cocks into alignment, and Harry moved his hips, sliding his erection along Severus' length for a few glorious moments before Severus rolled them, and their positions were reversed.
Severus kissed a trail from Harry's mouth, stopping to suck at his Adams apple and to tease each nipple in turn until they were pebbled peaks. Harry carded his fingers into Severus' hair, marvelling at the silky feel of it against his skin. As Severus moved down Harry's body, kissing and nipping and licking for what seemed like an eternity, all thought left Harry's mind. He cried out as Severus engulfed him to the root and at the same time, one slender finger teased at Harry's entrance. Harry's fingers tightened in Severus' hair, and his hips thrust upwards into Severus' mouth as Severus licked and sucked and pulled an earth-shattering orgasm from him.
A small jar somehow landed on the bed beside Harry; Severus obviously excelled at wandless and wordless magic, since Harry hadn't heard him Summon it. The next thing he felt was a cool slickness as Severus spread the lubricant over his entrance and worked one, and then two, fingers inside him.
The fingers left for a moment, and Harry mewled at their absence until he felt the blunt head of Severus' cock pressing at his entrance. He spread his legs and pulled his knees back towards his chest, and when Severus slid into him, it felt like home. Wrapping his legs around Severus' waist, Harry moved beneath Severus, matching him thrust for thrust until he felt Severus shuddering his release into him, and stars exploded behind Harry's eyes.
They lay together, sticky and sated, for several minutes before either of them moved.
* * * * *
Harry woke up disoriented the next morning - the bed was unfamiliar, not his own and certainly not Hagrid's. Then a soft snore beside him reminded him that he was not alone and exactly whose bed he was sleeping in. Harry carefully rolled over so as not to disturb Severus and watched him sleep for a few moments.
After their first, desperate coupling, they'd shared a bath and made love again at a more leisurely pace, learning each others' bodies, their likes and desires. Harry smiled when he remembered discovering that Severus had ticklish feet and blushed at the memory of how good Severus' tongue had felt deep inside him.
"Good morning," said Severus in a sleep-roughened voice.
"Good morning, Severus." Harry's stomach growled.
"Shall I ring the kitchens, or do you wish to eat breakfast in the Great Hall?"
Harry looked down at himself, and then over at Severus, whose naked body was only partly covered by the duvet. "I think we're a little underdressed for the Great Hall, don't you?"
"I would have suggested we get dressed first, but the idea of breakfast in bed does have its appeal."
When Pippy brought them breakfast, included on the tray was a parchment scroll tied with blue ribbon. Severus quickly scanned the note's contents and passed it to Harry.
Dear Headmaster Snape,
I am writing to inform you that Rubeus will be remaining in France with me indefinitely, as he is now my husband. I trust you will be able to replace him as groundskeeper at Hogwarts.
Bonne chance et au revoir,
Olympe Maxime
"It appears that you are in need of a groundskeeper."
"Are you applying for the job?"
"Indeed, I am," said Harry.
* * * * *
Wizengamot Exonerates Harry Potter. Again.
January 13, 2004.
by Rita Skeeter
Staff Reporter
Following investigations by Hermione Thomas (née Granger) and Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Wizengamot has exonerated former Auror Harry Potter from all wrongdoing in the deaths of his partners, Senior Auror John Dawlish and Auror Ronald Weasley. "We knew Harry couldn’t have had anything to do with it," said Arthur Weasley upon learning the Wizengamot's ruling.
This reporter has learned that Mr Potter will be taking over for Rubeus Hagrid in the position of groundskeeper permanently, a position he filled while suspended from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Mr Hagrid was recently wed to Madame Olympe Maxime of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Quite the career change for the Boy Who Lived, though it is this reporter's opinion that the DMLE will be better off without Mr Potter's antics.
End