Anachronism (12/16)

[kibatsu]

Monday, 16 August, 10:13 AM

Pulling his travelling cloak tighter around his shoulders, Severus marched up to the door, ignoring the eyes he knew were watching him. Three short raps on the wood and her high voice answered, "Go away!"

"Mrs. Endell," Severus said into the door. "I need to speak to you about your son."

Through the door, she hissed, "I have nothing to say to the likes of you." As if it were a curse, she added, "Potter lover."

"He hates me," Severus told her. "He'll not speak to me at all."

After a pause of almost a minute, she asked, "Why not?"

Severus sighed. There was no other way around it. "He thinks I'm a selfish, egotistical bastard who only desires to hurt him."

"Have you?"

"Hurt him? Yes."

The door swung open. Brigit Endell smiled. "Come in."

That had been easier than expected. After how happy she had been imagining his death, Severus had expected to spend hours on her doorstep before being allowed inside. Hiding his surprise, he swept into the room, one hand holding his wand just in case.

Motioning for him to sit, she shuffled towards the kitchen Severus could see through the open doorway. Glancing around as if it were his first time in the home, Severus took a seat in the chair.

When she returned, she passed him a cup of tea that he pretended to drink. "That boy," she said as she folded herself onto her sofa, "is the most arrogant fool I've ever met. He thinks he's above the Minister of Magic himself."

In a way, Harry was, but Severus held his tongue.

"You said you wanted to speak to me about my son?" Brigit's dark blue eyes had a sharpness that left Severus feeling as though he were under Legilimency, even though he could feel no magic directed towards him.

"Yes." He set down his teacup. "I examined blood samples from various individuals and found a peculiarity that was common only to your son and myself." Based on how shut off she was from the wizarding world, and Harry's reports on her background, he doubted that she knew much of brewing. Rather than explaining in detail, he simply said, "This oddity was purposefully introduced through either a poison or an antidote. Is there anyone who would've had motivation and ability to poison the both of us?"

She gazed at him, unblinking, over the rim of her teacup. After several silent seconds she said, "What will you do without him?"

"Without who?"

"Harry Potter," she spat. In a softer tone she said, "You were a Death Eater, correct? He was all that saved you from Azkaban, as I understand it."

Caught off-guard, Severus said, "Well, yes. I suppose so. I had avenues of escape, but his aid did help me."

Her almost-black eyes never blinked. "How did you hurt him?"

Although never one to reveal secrets unless he had to, there was something that told Severus he needed to be honest with Brigit. In his potions work, he used careful methodology, each act calculated and planned beforehand. When confronting the Dark Lord or in a situation where he worried for his life, he relied on his instinct. Although he didn't fear the bird of a woman before him, his gut told him to be uncharacteristically honest.

"I assaulted him. I've punched and bit him-multiple times. Furthermore, I don't remember him as anything other than a thick-headed student. I can't remember the past six years. They've kept it from the papers for my privacy. Whatever happened to me, the cure stole my memories. He-"

"Why six years?" she asked.

Severus had never thought to ask that. "I don't know. I suppose it was because six years ago was the last time I was near death before this occasion. There's evidence I picked the date of my previous near-death, although it could've been a coincidence since that date falls near Beltane."

She nodded, her eyes losing some of their sharpness. "The best date of the year. My son was born then."

She missed him. Watching her fix herself a new cup of tea, Severus felt sure of it. She had turned her grief to anger and bitterness because she had nowhere else for it go. His mother had done the same. Cut off from her pure-blood family, she'd vacillated between hating them for the way they treated her, and missing them. In her mind, the entire world had been against her, and she had been a helpless victim of fate and circumstance. Like Eileen, Brigit had no one. Even more so since her husband and son had both died, and her son had been a murderer. She was the only one left to mourn him and there would be no one left to mourn her after she had gone. She needed someone to acknowledge that her son had been more than just a killer.

"I've never seen a more remarkable laboratory," Severus told her. "He was, without a doubt, the best Potions Master I've ever come across-even better than I. He did things that I would've sworn were impossible, had I not seen the proof myself."

Rather than cheer her, the words turned her expression darker, the lines on her face growing thicker. "He died and you lived."

"I had money. If he'd had the resources that I did, I'm sure he would've survived. I also may not have been poisoned as much as him-his blood showed a stronger reaction than mine."

She stared at him with her unnaturally still eyes. "He wasn't poisoned. He died from an accident."

"An accident?" asked Severus, frowning. "I was told the Aurors killed him."

She snorted. "They'd like to think that, wouldn't they?" Shaking her head, she muttered, "They think they know everything."

Severus let her rant about the Aurors until she ran out of things to say. When she was silent again, he asked, "What sort of accident did he have?"

"My family has passed down texts for generations. That Potter boy has stolen them all now, but I had books that were full of the...." In a sacred tone, she said, "older magic." She took a sip of her tea and Severus waited for her to continue. Setting down her cup and picking up a paper doily, she turned it over and over in her hands, her hawk-eyes fixed on Severus's face. "Corey was always a bright boy, and he liked to try the old spells. He attempted one designed to unleash his magical ability. Although it worked-his magic increased exponentially-it made him sick every time he used it."

Her gnarled fingers tore at the lace doily, bits of white falling into her lap like snow. "His magic was killing him. And-even with all his intelligence-there was nothing he could do but die."

1:48 PM

Severus dipped down below the lowest cloud layer. He could see his property off in the distance, but he could think of nothing but the conversation he'd had with Brigit. Playing it over and over again in his head, he tried to find a way around the inescapable conclusion, but there was no way to avoid it. He had made the same mistake as Endell. He had tried to increase his magical power. Unlike Endell however, he had managed to save his life, but at the cost of losing his memories. Even with all that he had that Endell hadn't: wand, the best lab in the world, a whole host of Aurors, Harry, he had still nearly lost his life.

Although he had asked her as carefully as he could, Severus had been unable to learn much more from Brigit. Her son had committed suicide by Auror rather than die a slow, agonizing death. Either living without using his magic was impossible for him, or the latent magic in one's body eventually destroyed the flesh.

Killed by his own magic. There could be no more horrific way to go.

He still had no idea how he had managed to cure himself or where his memories were (if they could even be found), but the pressure to learn the answer to those questions did not weigh so heavily on his shoulders as it had before. He had ensured that he would never make the same mistake twice. That was why he had asked Phineas to keep the details of what he had done secret. He didn't want himself repeating the experiment and permanently killing himself.

He had escaped death twice. There was no reason to tempt it a third time.

Flying lower as the garden came into view, the house growing large beyond it, Severus shook his head. He had decided to fly home rather than Apparate in order to clear his thoughts, but his head was even more jumbled than when he had left Brigit. As he drew closer, he realised that the layout of the garden matched the disarray of his thoughts. Never having seen it from the air before, he stared down at the paths uncurling before him, darting off only to dead-end in circles or pools of water. The pools themselves were not circular, as he had assumed from the ground, but arranged in logarithmic spirals. He must have been obsessed with spirals, as he saw a few golden spirals as well, made out of plant boxes and-

Severus flew up higher, zooming towards the space of land directly above the tower. From this vantage point, as he gazed down over his garden, he could see the outline of the paths of land, vegetation, and water clearly. As he stared down at the land beneath him, he sucked in a breath, nearly losing his concentration and dropping out of the sky. The entire garden was based around a water-based logarithmic spiral composed of earth-based golden triangles and surrounded by Elder Futhark runes written in stone and flora. With the additional spirals and gemstones inside the tower itself, what lay before him was not the work of a man losing his mind, but a magical battery and concentration point! Using the power of runes and ancient magic, he had turned the land into a device to focus one single, powerful spell, and at the centre, he had placed his deathbed. Beltane, one of the most powerful days of the year, had been the perfect time to cast his Herculean spell. The note that read 'Zenith: Draco' and the purchase of the Beltane stones had all been used to give power and guidance to that single spell on that single day.

Gliding down to the top of the tower, Severus searched through the landscape, noting more and more signs of rune work and magical mathematics. No wonder he had never allowed Harry to see the plans for the garden. One look at this, and it would be obvious to anyone with a basic training in Germanic runes what its purpose was.

Pulling out a blank piece of parchment, Severus sketched out the garden.

4:12 PM

Harry's office was surprisingly easy to find for a man who supposedly had hundreds of enemies. Then again, Severus reckoned that, as Harry's boyfriend, he was given considerations that other wizards weren't. They waved him through all levels of security with nothing more than friendly glances. Severus had half a mind to yell at them for their lax security-they'd not even checked to see if he'd been Polyjuiced, for Merlin's sake! But then, they might prevent him from seeing Harry if he gave them trouble.

Harry magically opened the door when he knocked. Glancing up from his desk, he asked, "What are you doing here?" with more surprise than anger or annoyance.

Striding forward, Severus opened his newly completed garden plan across Harry's desk. "What does that look like to you?"

Peering at it, it took Harry a few seconds before he said, "That's our garden."

He didn't see it? "And? What do you notice about the patterns?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he peered at it more closely. "Uh ... it makes no sense?"

Highlighting three of the runes, Severus jabbed his finger at the parchment. "What does that say?"

Frowning, Harry said, "It's an arrow, an X, and a square."

How could he not see it? It was so obvious! Anyone with even a basic understanding of runes would-

Of course. Harry hadn't taken Ancient Runes at Hogwarts. He'd probably never felt a need to learn about them. "You don't know anything about runes, do you?"

Although Severus hadn't meant it as an attack or an accusation, Harry took it as one. His eyes, previously wary, sparked and he glared at Severus as if he were wishing himself a Basilisk. "Am I supposed to know every single, stupid little thing?" Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms, daring Severus to challenge him.

"No," said Severus, trying to calm him. "I forgot that you'd not taken Ancient Runes." Severus pointed at more of the symbols. "The garden is full of runes. This-" He highlighted it on the parchment. "-is a logarithmic spiral. It's found all over nature: in nautilus shells, composing the arms of spiral galaxies and tropical cyclones, and in more than a few plants. It's a magically powerful spiral because energy directed into it grows exponentially." Tracing each shape on the parchment, he said, "The Fibonacci spirals, the golden spirals, the golden triangles-all of these things are evidence of a single, solitary spell of unmatched power. I was dying." He glanced at Harry who still maintained his frigid stare. "Contrary to what you might think, my magic never left me. I cast a spell that-"

"I didn't think your magic left you," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "That's how you got into this bloody mess."

He hadn't been this snotty since Hogwarts. Biting back his retort, Severus said, "No, I cast a spell on my death bed. I wasn't turned into a Squib, I always had my magic. I was probably suppressing it through potions, which was why it couldn't be detected. You see, I wasn't poisoned. Endell had discovered a spell that claimed to increase one's magical power. It works, but at the price of destroying the caster's body. Our human frame isn't meant to contain such power. Endell committed suicide rather than die a slow death from his own magic. I believe that, with all the latent magic inside our bodies, it is impossible to live with one's magic turned against the self, even if taking suppression potions. I lived while Endell died because, on that night, I cast a powerful spell that saved my life. Remember when I said to you that I would give up all my magic to spend the rest of my life with you?"

Silently, Harry nodded, his eyes suspicious.

"I know I would have, had I been able. But, I had no choice." Glancing back at the parchment on the desk, Severus said, "Now, I still don't know exactly-"

"I can't believe you," muttered Harry.

Severus paused and looked at him. Harry's right cheek was twitching, his robes clenched in his fists. He stared in the direction of the desk but he wasn't looking at it. "This is all your fault," he said, his voice dark and low.

"What?"

Harry swung his arm across his desk, throwing the parchment and all his papers and quills into Severus's path. Severus jumped out of the way, and Harry leapt to his feet. "You nearly died!" he yelled. "And for what? More power? Don't you ever learn? HOW STUPID ARE YOU?"

How could he begin to explain something he couldn't even remember? "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think I could do it-"

Harry wouldn't listen. Shaking his head, he spat, "FUCK YOU! You're a selfish bastard! Why did you kill my mum? Because you wanted more power!"

Severus pulled back as if Harry had physically struck him. Even though he had accepted his blame in Lily's death for decades, hearing it from Harry called forth a surge of guilt so strong, he felt he might be sick. His mouth dry, his heart in his stomach, he could only rasp out, "That was different."

"No," said Harry, his eyes harder than Severus had ever seen them before. "It's the same fucking thing. Power is the only thing you ever care about."

Once it had been true. He had lost Lily for that reason, but not anymore. He would've given up everything for Harry! He couldn't explain why he had been foolish enough to dabble in such a dangerous spell, but he knew lack of care for Harry hadn't been a part of it. He'd seen enough of the memories and pictures to know that he had loved Harry just as much as, if not more, than he'd loved Lily. "That's not true. If it were, I wouldn't have forced the two of us to work together. Remember what I said, I-"

A strange, bitter laugh emerged from Harry. "It's never good enough. Nothing's ever good enough for you."

Severus took a step over the papers towards him. "Harry-"

Harry jerked back. "YOU ALMOST KILLED YOURSELF! For what? For power! And all that time ... all that time ... you knew. You knew it was your fault and you hadn't the courage to tell me because you were too fucking proud! You couldn't admit to me that you fucked up."

"That wasn't it. That wasn't why I didn't tell you."

"Oh, don't bullshit me, Snape. That may not have been the only reason, but it was one of them." Harry stepped forward, his face only a foot away from Severus's. "Tell me now. Say it. Say, 'I'm sorry, I made a mistake.' Apologise."

Severus didn't miss Harry's use of his surname. What did surprise him was how it stung. He shook his head. "You expect me to apologize for something I don't remember doing, something that I don't believe I would've done. It's possible Endell somehow manipulated the text of the spell to ensure that I would suffer the same fate as him. You even admitted I couldn't have made a mistake."

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, "It doesn't matter if you say you wouldn't-that you don't remember-because you did do it." Harry glared at him. "You didn't care that it nearly killed Endell, that it could've killed you. You still tried it. You-"

Harry acted as if he'd gone through with the experiment in order to hurt him. "I might not have known what happened to Endell! If I'd known it would kill me, I certainly wouldn't have tried it."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" asked Harry, his voice climbing in volume. "You took the risk of it killing you, because it meant you could have more power! That's all that seems to really matter to you, isn't it? Power. Tell me, what the fuck do you need more power for? Tell me!"

"I don't know! I've not got my memories! All I know is that I regretted it!"

Harry snorted. "Yeah, right. You still did it. You still did something that would kill you and take ...." Swallowing hard, Harry scrubbed at his arm, his eyes darting to the scroll on the floor. When he met Severus's eyes again, he looked younger than he ever had at eleven. Beneath all his anger and bluster was the orphaned child who'd had too many loved ones die and leave him alone once more. Abandoned himself, Severus finally understood. When Lily had died, he'd been so angry at himself, but also angry at her because she was all he'd had, and she had left him.

As cautiously as he would approach a Hungarian Horntail, Severus slid forward and lifted a tentative hand to touch Harry's arm, but dropped it when Harry glared at him. In a soft voice, Severus said, "It was never my intention to leave. I did everything in my power to come back to you, to stay with you."

"But you didn't," said Harry, his eyes staring at some point past Severus's hand. "Not all of you."

"There are some parts of me that will never change. I've always been protective of you."

Harry snorted, his dark eyes meeting Severus's with a challenge. "And physically and sexually assaulting me was just a way to show your protectiveness?"

Hearing those quiet words sent knives twisting through his gut, more painful than any insult Harry had hurled at him. He said nothing, but looked away, unable to meet Harry's accusing eyes. A wall of silence fell between them until Severus spoke, "I know I hurt you, just as I knew I might. I found a note that I'd hid for myself in case I wasn't as ... cooperative as I needed to be." He Summoned the parchment with the map of the garden and folded it up. Reaching into his robes, he produced the coded piece of paper and held it out to Harry. "The code is in Wuthering Heights. Have you read it?"

Wordlessly, Harry shook his head. He took the paper, holding it with both hands as if he expected it to escape from him at any moment.

"The part where that is from reads, 'Do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you. Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!'"

Harry made a small, soft noise, and closed his eyes, clutching the parchment tightly.

"That bit of parchment," said Severus, "reads, 'Harry can help you find what you seek.' As Phineas noted, I am careful with my words. I did not say 'will'."

Opening his eyes, Harry asked in a calmer tone, "When did you solve it?"

"About a week ago."

Harry scoffed. "It took you that long to decode it? Pathetic." He thrust the parchment back at Severus. "You should find yourself the easiest person to solve."

The jabs were like paper cuts, but Severus ignored them. Accepting the parchment, he said, "Not when I deliberately frustrate myself."

Pulling out his wand, Harry restored the room to order with a lazy flick. He stepped past Severus to his desk. Without looking at Severus, he said, "I'll be in the library at seven. We need to talk about the newest batch of commissions."

"I'll see you then." With a swirl of his robes, Severus left. Harry's tumultuous mood swings had apparently calmed and there was no reason to provoke another violent outburst.

7:00 PM

Harry strode into the library the moment the clock announced the changing of the hour. It was so perfectly timed, Severus suspected he'd been waiting behind the doors for the exact moment.

Kreacher appeared as if on cue, transforming and setting the table for dinner. Paracelsus burst into applause, and even Phineas wore an expression that almost looked like joy.

"Finally!" said Paracelsus when Harry took his seat at the table. "I've never met two more stubborn people in my life."

"Don't rejoice too soon," said Phineas in an oily tone. "Knowing those two, it will be months before they end their pointless bickering and acknowledge their feelings for each other."

"Poppycock," rejoined Paracelsus. "Fancy a flutter? I'll spend a month in the south hall if they don't start shagging each other over that table like a pair of satyrs on Amortentia within the next two months."

Harry groaned, his cheeks aflame. Severus cast a privacy charm.

"Thanks," muttered Harry as he snatched a roll off the platter before him. "Right now, I'm half tempted to do it just so I've not got to hear him for a month."

Severus didn't dare allow himself to hope. The way Harry had spat out the words 'do it' as if it were abhorrent to him didn't bode well. To distract himself, he asked, "Why not just bar him from the library?" as he served himself roast lamb before sending the platter over to Harry.

"He was a gift from Narcissa. He acts as though he's mental most of the time, but he does know a great deal about ancient magic. He's been a help more than a few times with our potions. Narcissa gets annoyed when he's not in the library when she visits."

Of course Narcissa would be responsible for the miserable excuse of a man. Severus shook his head. "She always has to have her way."

In the midst of drinking, Harry shrugged. When he put down his cup, he said, "She was the one who got us together."

Severus could feel his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. Of all the people he'd ever thought who might be responsible for that, he'd never imagined it was Narcissa. "She did?"

Harry nodded. "After the war, the Malfoys lost a lot of money, and you were the only person from 'our' side who didn't just tolerate her. She wanted money and power and I reckon she figured I would help you more than I would help her. At first, you refused to borrow my money and you hadn't much of your own after your legal fees, so you borrowed what little they had left. You returned it to them, of course, along with plenty extra. They owe everything they now have, to you. The reason I didn't go to them for a loan was because, if you weren't here, I wouldn't be able to control them as well. I don't trust them."

Which was wise of him. Severus knew that if the Malfoys could steal all of Harry's money and get away with it, they would do so.

"Lucius is the latest person who has hired us for commissions. I'd like you to check over the contract before I sign it."

"We'll sign it," corrected Severus. "Even though I consider Lucius a friend, I don't think you should ever sign a contract with him alone."

Frowning, Harry set down his fork. "If you think he's dangerous, I don't want to sign anything at all."

"There's nothing to worry about when you're careful. I'll take care of it, I know how to deal with them."

Harry shrugged. "Do whatever you think is best."

Thursday, 16 September, 6:34 P.M

Severus drummed his fingers on the tabletop. Four minutes past the half-hour. Four minutes late. He should have guessed Harry would be late for their date; he'd not shown any interest in Severus's attempts at reconciliation. Having held several grudges for decades, Severus was all too familiar with a man's need for revenge, but after a month of getting nowhere, he was beginning to suspect that Harry had no intention of ever forgiving him.

He'd researched rare plants in France and invited Harry to accompany him to collect them, intending to take him to all the traditional romantic spots. Harry had refused, stating that he had his monthly Quidditch game that weekend. Severus's next attempt had been no more successful. After spending hours in a Quidditch shop and perusing Quidditch magazines, he'd settled on a book on ancient Quidditch matches and placed it on Harry's desk. Harry hadn't said a word.

Even when he'd travelled all the way to Yellowstone Park to collect rare archaea from the middle of a hot spring, and delivered his gift in person, Harry had taken the vial as though it would burn his fingers, and stared at it in the same manner he looked at flobberworms.

Maybe Severus would've had more luck if the treacle tarts hadn't burnt. Cooking had seemed so easy in the abstract sense-it was brewing with food and spices. Yet, the treacle tarts ended up a soggy, sticky mess. It didn't help that Kreacher followed him around the kitchen, grumbling and complaining the entire time he attempted to bake.

At least Harry had agreed to meet him at the restaurant after work. It was a start-albeit a small one. Severus had spent a week preparing for their date since Harry had owled back his response. First, the restaurant had to be selected. As Harry would be heading to dinner straight from work, the chosen place could not be too formal. He'd found the perfect restaurant-romantic without being ostentatious, casual yet elegant, the wine list superb and the food splendid. He'd ordered the best treacle tarts on the continent that he could find, and brought them to the restaurant to be carried out with his own, hand-made vanilla ice cream. Ice cream was relatively easy to brew, but it had taken him two weeks before the product achieved satisfactory quality.

The night would be perfect. If Harry showed up.

"Sorry I'm late," said Harry as he strode across the restaurant, followed by Adam.

What the bloody hell was Adam doing here? The Brazilian professional Quidditch player spent an inordinate amount of time around Harry.

"Oh." Harry stared at the table set for two. "Could we pull up a chair? I ran into Adam when I was leaving the Ministry and-"

There was no point in refusing. Harry had already decided to bring another man along on their date. As tempted as he was to leave, Severus forced his expression into one of polite indifference. "You'll have to ask the staff. I didn't realise you intended to bring a guest."

"It's all right," said Adam with a smile that showed his perfect white teeth. "I'll go."

"No," said Severus, unwilling to let Harry off that easily. "Harry invited you. You're welcome to stay."

As it was early for dinner, the maître d' simply moved them to a table for four. Harry sat across from Severus, beside Adam. Why Harry spent so much time with the burly Quidditch player was beyond him. The man lacked any subtlety or tact and spent an inordinate amount of time discussing Quidditch with Harry. He asked a few standard, dull questions of Severus, and, upon receiving the pat answers such trite inquiries deserved, he quickly lost interest in anything but his food and Harry.

Just after the waiter walked away with their empty plates, Adam announced himself too full to even consider dessert, and Harry did likewise. When the waiter returned carrying the prepared delicacy, Severus confounded him from underneath the table, and he walked past them to deliver the tray to another table. They split the bill three ways and shook hands, Severus crushing Adam's in his.

Adam turned to Harry. "I had a smashing time when you stayed over. Please feel free to visit anytime."

"I will," answered Harry with an equally wide smile.

So that's where Harry had gone! After that night, he'd fled straight to the home of a handsome, rich, famous Quidditch player. How could Severus ever hope to compete with such a perfect man? There was nothing he could say or do. He Apparated home.

Harry appeared by his side with a loud crack. "What is wrong with you? You were such an arse to Adam!"

Severus strode past him to the garden. "I invited him to eat with us."

"Only to sneer at him!" argued Harry, marching shortly behind. "You spent the entire evening insulting his intelligence."

It hadn't been hard to do. "The only thing he has room for in that thick skull of his is Quidditch."

"That's because you refused all attempts at conversation! When someone says, 'I hear you and Harry picked up some new projects. What are you working on now?', you don't just say, 'Potions.' If you had given him more than single curt words as answers to his questions, or asked him something that wasn't insulting, you could've had a decent conversation! He's friendly, kind, and-"

Severus would not stand to hear a list of why Adam was so damned perfect and why Harry found him attractive. In the doorway, he whirled around to confront him. "If you desire another partner, take one! I don't care! Don't waste-"

"Oh!" Harry stormed forward and slammed the door against the wall. "So that's what this is all about! How old are you? Twelve? Not everyone in the world wants to fuck me despite what you've convinced yourself. You're the one who hired an escort. You-"

"I hired him for you!"

Harry's brow furrowed, the anger in his eyes replaced with confusion. "How do you know about that?"

Turning around, Severus strode towards the edge of the patio. "I found his business card in your trunk."

Stalking behind, Harry hissed, "So you decided to call him up and fuck him?"

Ah, Harry had thought he'd been referring to the time when he'd met Scott and pretended to have fucked him. Harry had claimed that he didn't believe Severus had been serious when he'd said he'd hired an escort. But had he really believed it all this time? Such naked jealously halted Severus in his tracks. No wonder Harry'd been so angry. Turning to glance at Harry, he said, "I didn't touch him. What does it matter if I did? You'll not have me."

"I should just take your abuse, then?" Harry threw out his arms. "Hell, go ahead. Why don't you tie me down this time? I'll scream and beg you to stop and you'll just fuck me harder and call me a whore-"

He couldn't bear to hear it. "Stop it! I can't erase what I've done, but I've tried to move beyond that. What do you want me to do? What will satisfy you? Do you want me to apologise? I'm sorry! There! Are you happy?"

Crossing his arms, Harry shook his head, his eyes cold. "Words are meaningless from a manipulative bastard like you. You need to show your contrition and really mean you're sorry, you selfish bastard."

"I won't bow down before you, you arrogant prick." Severus sneered.

"I don't want that!" he insisted. "I want you to treat me like a person-not an object! You need to treat me like someone you want to date!"

Exactly what he'd spent days trying to do! "You fool! What do you think I've been doing? Do you think I invited you to dinner so I could talk to Adam?"

Harry's eyebrows knitted together and his arms uncrossed. He stared at Severus with confusion, then said, "It was ... a date?"

"Of course, you dunderhead! It was a date! How can you be so stupid?"

"Stupid?" Harry's hands clenched into fists, his eyes fiery. "You're the proud, stubborn bastard who's too stupid to say, 'I'm sorry I was such a fucking prick, Harry. Let me make it up to you by taking you on a date.' How the fuck was I supposed to know it was a date if you didn't tell me?"

"Do you think I invited you to France out of boredom?"

"I thought you wanted a translator and were too cheap to hire a stranger!"

"I gave you that Quidditch book!"

"You should've left a note! I thought it was from Hermione!"

"Since when is Granger allowed in our private lab?" Severus arched an eyebrow.

Harry sputtered. "I don't know, but you've told me a hundred times you think Quidditch is a silly sport!"

"I still do. But even when I gave you a gift in person, you brushed me off."

Shrugging helplessly, Harry said, "You handed me a jar of smelly, slimy orange stuff that looked like something Buckbeak tossed up and said, 'Don't touch it or it'll kill you.' What am I supposed to think of that?"

"You brew with me. Surely you can appreciate rare and difficult to collect ingredients."

"Not when you don't tell me what the fuck it is." He saw Severus begin to object and continued on, "Yeah, you said it was called-whatever it was called. But I don't know what it was. I'm not a Potions Master. I don't know shite about rare ingredients. Look-" He threw up his hands. "-this is pointless. Even if I did muck up your planned date by bringing Adam along, you should've known that he's not interested in me at all. Even if he was-you should trust me to be loyal! You had no right to be a bastard-to either of us-and I don't want to be with someone who's an absolute prick to my close friends, even if you've stopped being a prick to me."

Running his hand through the tangled mess of his hair, Harry sucked in a deep breath and said in a softer tone, "Thanks for the book and the...."

"Archaea."

"Yeah, that. I appreciate it. It was really thoughtful."

"You're welcome."

Harry bit his lip, and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darting around the garden. Glancing back at Severus, he said, "D'you want to eat dessert together later? We can talk about the Malfoy commissions."

Severus nodded. "Very well."

"I'll see you in the library at nine." With that, Harry turned and walked away, his robes billowing behind him.

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