Third Place - Romance

Severus waited nervously in the great hall. He couldn't quite understand why he was feeling the stomach clenching mixture of anticipation and dread. His inner voice said that it knew, but it wasn't going to tell him. He thought that was one of the most annoying and useless things he had ever heard from it.

His dread solidified. What if Harry had gone back to his old habits while Sev hadn't been there to stop him? He hadn't had a single owl from the boy. Maybe he'd become maniacally depressed and wasn't speaking to anyone. Maybe something had happened? No, Albus would have told him.

What if Harry had liked staying with the werewolf?

What if he hadn't owled because he was having so much fun that it never occurred to him that Severus might be worrying? If the boy preferred to stay with Lupin, then he probably no longer cared for Severus at all. After all, look at how he had treated Harry on the last night here. He had practically thrown him out of the door.

He hadn't meant to be like that. Had just been frustrated by Albus' manipulations and Harry's inability to stand up for himself when it mattered. Maybe a little annoyed that the boy wasn't dedicated enough to want to stay and work during the holidays. With him.

But he had thought that Harry had understood. Had thought that the uncanny ability of knowing how Severus was feeling as the boy always did would still be functioning. But what if it hadn't been? What if Harry had convinced himself that Severus no longer cared for him? What if Harry no longer cared in return, as he had seemed to more and more in the months prior to the holidays.

The long stretch of summer had been torture. It had proved to Severus in a way that Harry removing from his chambers to the Tower hadn't that Harry was beyond essential in his life now. The boy had somehow burrowed his way into Severus' heart, past all of the layers of armour and sarcastic defence systems. So his heart was no longer happy unless Harry was there.

He had tried to throw himself into his potions research, but conversely found that being in his lab was one of the times that he missed Harry most. He had come to rely upon Harry being there with the ingredients prepared, ready to do anything that was needed, to stir for a minute if Severus need to consult his books. It was so much harder to work on his own. How had he managed to do so for so long?

He missed the pleasant banter which always filled the spaces of time when there was nothing to do but wait for a potion to stew. He missed the bizarre three way conversations that occurred with the snake around, where he would be talking to Harry, Sylrissin would interrupt, and then everything had to be translated for both parties. He liked the amused smile that would appear on Harry's face at those times.

He missed Harry's smile. Severus' life had been so dull, so unhappy for so long. And now this boy had come along and brightened it up once his naturally cheerful disposition had rebounded from the suffering that he had been through. Harry made Severus smile. An accomplishment not to be taken lightly. It had been strange, over the holiday, going back to having nothing to laugh at. Sometimes, as he sat on the couch reading at night, he would start looking at the door every few minutes without consciously knowing that he was doing so, waiting for Harry to come. After about half an hour of that, he would look at his watch, notice how late it was getting, and then it would suddenly hit him that Harry wasn't coming round because he wasn't there. That showed how much of a routine the visits had become.

He had presumed that it would get better as time went by, that as the weeks passed he would start to revert to his old ways, as things had been before Harry had come. He hadn't, and had felt the loss of Harry all the more keenly for it.

Today the boy was coming back. Severus wondered how much he would have changed.

The first change that he noticed was that Harry was taller. Quite a lot taller in fact. He seemed to have finally made up for all the growing he had failed to do at the Dursley's. Still not as tall as Severus though.

The second change was the hair. It was longer, much longer, and bound back. It looked different, very different. Harry's face was actually visible now, whereas before it had always been half hidden behind the wayward mop that had happened to live on his head.

Then Harry was standing in front of him, beaming from ear to ear. He was happy then. That was good. Half of Severus' worries disappeared.

The third change became apparent as they each waited for the other to speak first. Thinking that Harry would probably be unsure of his reception, Severus tried to think of something to say which would be welcoming without making him too vulnerable, just in case Harry was no longer interested in potions or him, when the other broke the stalemate.

"I found this really good recipe in 'Potion's Living IX' which I used for my hair. I had thought about using a normal lengthening one, but then the basil leaves wouldn't have... Sev?"

The third change was that Harry was no longer a boy. It was obvious from his demeanour that he was just as nervous and shy as Severus had anticipated that he would be. But he had still spoken. There was a confidence in his voice, which, though it had been growing slowly before the holidays, shocked him now with the amount it had developed.

He cleared his throat. "I like it." That hadn't made sense had it? He wasn't sure if that had made sense. "The hair. I like the hair." Okay, now he sounded like a complete idiot.

Harry obviously didn't seem to think so as the smile which had been permanently etched on his face since he walked through the door grew wider still. Merlin, Severus had missed that smile.

Only Harry could make it feel alright to be awkward. Only Harry really understood him. He smiled back, his first smile since Harry had left, and reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind the other man's ear. He remembered having hair that long. High maintenance, very annoying, always getting everywhere. But it did look good on the other. Suited him in a way that Severus only now realised that the other style had not. This was Harry.

As he thought that he instantly understood why Harry had done it. The old hair had been very much the same as his father's. It was that of Potter. That of a boy. And Harry was no longer defined by either of those qualities.

"Albus arranged for you to stay down in the dungeons until school starts, next door to my own rooms. Is that amenable to you?"

Harry smiled. It was hard to distinguish from all of the other smiling, but Severus saw the difference, the slight quirk of the lips. He raised an eyebrow. He didn't bother actually asking his question when he knew that his eyebrow would have the same effect. Harry's smile became slightly tinged with sadness as he answered.

"I was just thinking." Severus managed to force the eyebrow up an extra millimetre, his emergency reserves. It worked, Harry duly elaborated. "That no one but you would have bothered asking if the arrangements were alright with me. No one else stands up for me like that."

It was true. They all, Albus particularly, trampled all over him. It shouldn't be that way, that only Severus cared enough to want Harry to make his own decisions. He had been the one to argue for the quarters in the dungeons. The Headmaster had wanted to place him somewhere with windows. Severus thought that was a stupid reason for moving him elsewhere.

Harry needed to be near him, after all, in order to facilitate practical access to the labs. And because, Severus had been rather hoping that Harry would want to spend a large part of the time in his rooms anyway. Playing chess, for example, which would teach him important strategy skills. His little voice added that it would also teach the boy how to swear fluently in eighteen other languages. He answered that that would help Harry to stand up to others and gain self confidence.

Although Harry did seem to have developed a lot of that over the holidays. But still, this was one boy who could not have too much self confidence, after what had been done to him. It was ironic that it was the same person who, for four and a half years, he had believed to be the only one who could never have too little.

They began to meander their way slowly down to the dungeon. Harry appeared to have lost none of his enthusiasm for the subject at least, he seemed to have thousands of questions to ask, and began sketching things out in the air with his hand in excitement as they proceeded.

Severus remembered something. "Let me be the first to congratulate you on your exam results." He handed Harry an envelope. "You were top in potions you know. A perfect score."

Harry went slightly red. "Well, I'll have you know that I have a brilliant tutor," he teased.

Severus smiled again.

They passed the portrait to Severus' rooms, and Harry hissed out a greeting to the picture. Severus felt the musical speech wash over him in calming waves. He had missed that too. Which was when it occurred to him that he hadn't seen Harry's snake. He looked a little closer, watching him out of the corner of his eye as they walked, and finally made out that the little serpent was tucked round the back of his head, intertwined with his hair and the tie holding it. Severus was lucky that she still recognised him as a friend then and hadn't put him in a coma when he'd touched Harry's hair.

"There is a slight shift in the pattern of the bricks at this point, which is how you recognise the entrance. No conventional portrait hole for you! You just walk through it here. No one that hasn't been spelled for entry can pass. I took the liberty of including myself in the spell, is that alright?"

Harry nodded. "What about the Headmaster?"

"Albus will find his way in. He always does. You'll come to wish that he wouldn't."

They went through the barrier. Severus walked straight into Harry, who had stopped immediately inside the portal, and was staring wide eyed at his surroundings. He gave them a quick look himself. Nothing special.

"These will be your rooms for as long as you are at Hogwarts. While you will probably wish to remain in the Gryffindor Tower during term time, indeed Minerva may insist that you do so, you can stay here during all of the holidays."

"Mine?" said Harry, shocked.

But of course, Harry had never had anywhere to call his own before. Severus reassessed the room. In that case, palatial.

He showed Harry the small main room, the bedroom and the ensuite bathroom.

"I'll leave you here to unpack then. Come to my rooms when you've finished, I dare say that the portrait can be bribed to let you in."

A mutual grin. Then Severus left Harry to it, and went back to his own rooms.

He went into the lab and made sure that everything was set up just in case Harry wanted to launch straight back into practicals. It was unlikely though, as Severus was sure that first would come a lengthy discussion of everything that Harry had read over the holidays. He had begun to find before Harry left for the summer that he himself had to reread some of the texts that he recommended in order to give concise explanations. Having Harry around kept him challenged.

Back in the main room he spelled the fire to a roaring blaze, knowing made the room more welcoming. Any further adjustments were forestalled by Harry's entrance.

Severus was once again taken aback by the changes in him. In the few minutes they had been apart he had reverted to his own image of the past, but the new reality was quite different. Much improved in fact.

Harry walked over with only a moments hesitation and sprawled on the couch as though he had never left. Severus smiled at the picture he made.

"I missed this fireplace, you know?"

Yes, Harry had always loved the fireplace. As had Severus himself. It was a good way to avoid thinking when you were troubled. Had Harry just admitted that he was troubled?

"And this couch."

The soft way in which it was spoken seemed to indicate to Severus that these were not the only things that had been missed, Perhaps his company also? The companionship found here.

"I'm sure they missed you too."

There, a tacit agreement if the undertones he had sensed in Harry's words were as he interpreted them, and if not, then just a sample of his usual wit.

Harry didn't laugh though. Was that because he had caught the true meaning? He turned his head slightly and Severus' eyes were caught by the other's deep green ones. The connection was re-established, they both knew what the other had been trying to say.

"I really should check if I've had any post. Hermione is probably wondering why I haven't replied," said Harry.

Severus gestured to the fireplace, and Harry went to it and contacted the Headmaster, who welcomed him back and sent the mail through.

There were two letters, from Draco and Granger, and a parcel wrapped in brightly coloured paper. It must have been Harry's birthday! Severus had never thought to ask when it was.

Harry temporarily lost his dignity and ripped the wrapping off hastily in the most childlike gesture Severus had ever seen him exhibit. Harry was eager to show off his present, a new book on Quidditch.

"When was your birthday?" he wondered aloud.

"The thirty first of July."

"What did you do for it?"

Harry blinked, looking blank. "Do for it?" Severus saw the sudden realisation. "Oh, nothing."

"What do you mean nothing? Surely Lupin gave you a party, you know, cake and presents?"

"Ummm, I didn't tell him. It was right on the full moon, and he was kind of stressed. I didn't mind."

That was far too resigned for... Oh! Harry would never have celebrated his birthday with his relatives. Never had a party. He looked down at the book in Harry's hands and realised that the reason he had been so enthusiastic about it was that it was the only present he had got.

"Why, when's your birthday?" Harry asked.

Severus saw that for the distraction tactic it was and kept focusing on what he was thinking as he absentmindedly answered "The twenty ninth of November."

His birthdays when he were younger hadn't been enjoyable either. Formal affairs with all of his parent's friends and their children. But at least he had had something. He got a feeling that before he came to Hogwarts, Harry had never received a present in his life.

"I'm sorry I didn't know, I would have got you something," he said honestly.

Harry looked thrown for a moment at the idea. Then he shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

But it should have mattered. Even Severus, who never received presents now from anyone other than the standard pack of sweets from Albus, knew that it mattered. On some level, it had to matter to Harry too. He would have to find something for him, it would be late, but that was better than never. And there was a whole lot of never to make up for.

Harry switched the subject, and this time Severus let him do so. They talked about potions for a while. Then about Harry's summer.

"I can see why you were so angry about Remus. It was really terrifying when he howled."

At this Severus' head snapped up. They had made the boy stay with the werewolf when he transformed? Even with the potion.... It had been very dangerous. For someone who professed to care so much about the boy's welfare, Albus had a funny way of showing it.

"Are you alright?" The intensity of his feelings must have come through in his voice, for Harry faltered.

"I... Yes. I mean, I was scared. But he never got out. It made it even harder to sleep though."

The latter part of that sentence caught his attention. He had thought that Harry might have trouble.

"You haven't been sleeping."

Harry squirmed for a moment, before shaking his head.

"Didn't Lupin do anything to help? You could have played chess or something. That usually settles you."

"I didn't like to wake him. I couldn't really talk to him. Although I did beat him at chess when we played," said Harry, brightening at the last.

"That's nice." Severus murmured.

Something inside him had broken loose to do a little jig at the thought that he hadn't been replaced, that Harry hadn't found a new confidant in the werewolf. He was, of course, slightly ashamed of this feeling, he should have been happy if Harry had managed to share with others. But no, in this matter it seemed, his heart was entirely selfish.

For he needed Harry now. Just as much as Harry needed him.

It was a few days later, about a week before the start of term, that Severus cancelled Harry's tutorial due to some important research he wanted to do. He told Harry that he was welcome to still use the lab, but that he would be unsupervised.

An old leather bound journal had been delivered to him the day before, something that he had been searching for for years. He had made a quick attempt at studying the previous night, but as it was written in another language he needed to fully devote his attention to it for a whole evening.

He now combed through it in earnest. It wasn't in any language he had ever seen, and he knew several. He got out other books full of dead languages and attempted to cross reference. No luck. He searched through the journal itself to try and find a key to deciphering it. He tried all of the most common codes. Nothing.

When he next looked up, it was past two in the morning, and the lights had automatically dimmed, which explained why he had been squinting for a while.

He got up, paced the room twice, raised the lights, and tried to read it one last time.

He threw the book on the floor in a rage. It didn't make sense! The most important find in a century, and it couldn't be deciphered. He stared broodingly into the fire.

A moment later, a hand scooped the book up from the floor, and placed it on the table. He looked up. He hadn't even heard Harry entering the room. His inner voice told him it was probably due to the fact that he had been far too busy attempting to destroy priceless artefacts by hurling them at the tiles at the time.

Harry sat down beside him, curling up on the couch and resting his chin on his hand. He looked so at home here, Severus thought, like an animal in it's native habitat. Harry was almost a part of the room, and it welcomed him as such.

"I take it that it isn't going well?" the rascal asked.

Severus gave him a mock scowl. Harry just laughed. He liked that too, here was someone who was not afraid of his snarling and grouching, his sarcasm and his moods. Here was someone who knew him. Not completely, but more so than anyone before. Ever.

"Can I see?"

Ahh, the Gryffindor compulsive urge to help. Though perhaps in this case it was curiosity and a need to devour every book he could get his hands on

"I doubt you'd be interested." He saw Harry open his mouth to argue, and added, "Since it's in a foreign language that even I cannot read."

"Well, do you know anything about the book?"

Good, he had taught him well. Harry was thinking methodically, that the source might help or give some clue as to how to interpret the text.

"The author has been dead for hundreds of years. This is a true treasure." Harry raised an eyebrow, censuring his treatment of it. Severus agreed, but even he had fits of frustration sometimes. "It is supposed to contain some of the earliest antidotes that were ever discovered, recipes that have been lost or altered beyond recall. There are rumours that it contains other things too, darker secrets, and more complex potions than are known today."

Harry looked suitably impressed. He reached for the book. "Who is it by then?"

"I doubt you've heard of him, though he was a great potions master. His name was Darion Kertaeir." He noticed that Harry's hand froze, and pulled back from the journal. "He used to live in these very rooms. It's why I chose them, I was always inspired by the idea that someone of such skill had been here too."

There was a look on Harry's face that he wasn't sure if he'd seen before. Recognition, realisation, as though something had suddenly clicked. Harry reached for the book again and opened it reverently to a random page, fingering the crisp pages that were spelled against aging. He gazed at the writing for a moment then closed the book and laid it in his lap.

"It's Parseltongue. It's written in Parseltongue," he said.

Severus gaped at him until he had gathered his wits. "It is? How do you know?"

"Because I can read it and you can't?"

That cheeky grin stirred something inside him, he found himself smiling in response.

"What does it look like to you? What does it say?"

"It looks like English to me, though the lettering is all swirly."

Harry opened it to the first page this time, gazed at it for a second. Then he said something.

In Parseltongue.

"Well, what does it say?" asked Severus impatiently. It looked as though this would be a good night after all.

Harry gave him an odd look. "I just told you."

"No, you said something in Parseltongue."

"Oh, I thought I..."

Harry looked down again. Spoke. Looked up questioningly. Severus shook his head. They tried this several more times. It looked as though Harry could not translate it into English.

"Try harder." Severus got a glare for that. Not undeserved, he could see that Harry really was trying.

"Well, you aren't helping!" Harry snapped.

"How can I possibly help? You're the bloody Parselmouth!"

Harry threw his hands up in frustration, and marched out of the portrait hole, shutting it behind him. After he had had a few minutes to cool off, Severus realised that he had been extremely foolish, taking his anger out on Harry when it wasn't his fault. This way he was just alienating his only possible source for translation. And his only friend.

He was just about to go to Harry's rooms to try and find him, to apologise, when the door opened again.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you," he said before the other had a chance to speak.

He got a tremulous smile in return. "That's okay." Harry came back and sat down again. "Anyway, I was talking to Serminysa, and I think that I have an idea. You can help. See, Parseltongue and English sound the same to me, I switch between them depending on who I'm talking to. So if I read from the book, and memorise a sentence, then you talk to me in English, then my mind should switch to thinking in that language and I will automatically translate it. What do you think?"

Severus thought that was brilliant actually. Harry really was very intelligent. And very good at problem solving. What would he do without him? His little voice told him that he'd probably do what he'd done all summer, mope around and achieve nothing of consequence.

He nodded. "It's a very good idea. Let's try it." Grabbing a quill and parchment, he prepared to take down Harry's words.

Harry blushed slightly at the praise and picked up the book, resting the relatively heavy journal on his lap and opening it. He began muttering to himself. As he listened intently, Severus could tell that Harry was repeating the same thing over and over.

When he raised his hand as a signal, Severus said, "Tell me what you are saying."

"If the..." Harry faltered and trailed off. "Sorry, I lost it."

"It doesn't matter, it was working. Try again."

Harry got a little more of the sentence the next time. After that, he seemed to backslide, and couldn't remember any of it after Severus interrupted him to switch his language. Then, another two words. Then nothing again. When Harry raised his hand and Severus got a feeling that the other was about to throw the book to the floor in an imitation of his own earlier fit of temper, he gently removed the journal from the outstretched fingers and placed it aside.

He noticed that Harry was trembling slightly. "It's all right, you're doing fine. Of course it'll go slowly at first. Don't worry about it."

Harry tipped his head forward and rested it in his hands. Severus placed a hand on his back, and found that every muscle was wound and tense.

"What's wrong? Harry?"

"Nothing." The voice was muffled. "I just have a headache now."

Severus began to rub little circles on his back. "Must be some headache," he said dryly.

Harry groaned. "It is. Everything hurts."

Severus felt guilty. Working Harry like a slave until all hours of the morning would not help him.

"Maybe you should go to bed?"

"No, I don't think I could sleep. I'm fine."

Sure he was fine. The trembling under Severus' hand had grown somewhat less pronounced, but was still there. And he could still feel the stiffness creasing Harry's body. Stupid noble Gryffindors.

He sighed. "No you aren't. Come here." He twisted his arm so that Harry was pulled towards him and forced to turn until his back was facing Severus.

He moved his hands to Harry's shoulders and began to knead, at first gently, then harder. After a few seconds, he heard Harry give a gasp of physical relief and begin to slowly relax under his skilled hands. As his hands pressed a path down Harry's back, exploring to find all of the knots and aches, he felt the well defined muscles shift and ripple under his fingers.

He slowed his motions to just soothing stokes as Harry's head began to loll back, eyes more than half closed. He gradually lessened the pressure and allowed Harry's body to fall back until it rested mostly in his lap, the head leaning against his shoulder. Then he loosened the tie holding Harry's hair back and removed it, with the snake, setting it aside.

He rubbed Harry's temples, then his fingers slipped of their own volition to slide though Harry's hair. It was soft and silky to the touch, it felt wonderful. As he began massaging the scalp as a last effort to get rid of the headache, Harry gave a low moan of contentment.

Severus stopped the motion of his fingers for a moment to analyse the sound. It sounded almost......aroused. He looked down at Harry's flushed face, the slightly parted lips, and felt a response rise eagerly in him. Harry gave a little mewl of protest at the cession of the caresses, and Severus' hands automatically returned to work.

Harry was beautiful. Not that he hadn't noticed it before, though he had suppressed his admiration. But then it had been that of a boy, coltish, awkward, shy and so terribly fragile. Now, as the fingers of one hand moved down to Harry's jaw and he felt how Harry leaned into the touch, he saw that the beauty before him now was that of a man. There were changes more subtle than the hair. What really attracted Severus to Harry was the aura he projected, the little teasing things that he would let the other get away with where no one else could. The way that Harry cared, deeply, about everything, even after all that had been dumped on him. It took a lot to get through all that and still be able to smile.

And he did love Harry's smile.

Those startlingly emerald eyes opened and looked into his. A sleepy grin, then a yawn.

A promise of, "Try 'gain in the morning. I'll ask Serminysa," the words slightly slurred with tiredness.

Severus smiled, it already was the morning. It had already been the morning before they even started trying with the book.

Harry's eyes closed, his breathing steady and even.

Severus kept on softly stroking Harry's hair until he was sure that the body lying on him was secure in slumber, then he wrapped his arms round him, rested his head on top of the other's, and allowed himself to sleep too.

Harry slowly awoke at some time in the morning cocooned in warmth and comfort. He never wanted to have to move again. He savoured the sensation, since it was one that he had rarely experienced, then began to wonder what was causing it.

He opened his eyes. Stared up at the ceiling for a while, then expended the enormous amount of effort it took to command them to look around. He was in Severus' chambers. On Severus' couch. On Severus.

He nearly jumped up at this startling revelation, though he remembered that Sev had held him until he fell asleep the previous night, he'd expected that the other man would have levitated him back to bed. Severus must have fallen asleep too then, the work had been exhausting.

The work. Harry saw the journal lying on the other end of the couch and tried to reach for it, thinking to try and do some further research. He found that his movement was constricted, however, by two long arms wrapped around his middle.

Oh well, it looked like he had no choice but to lie here. He wouldn't want to disturb Severus, who got little enough sleep as it was. Not that Harry got any more. In fact, this had been the best he had slept in weeks, possibly months. The feeling of safety which surrounded him now was what he had been missing, why he had not been able to rest. He trusted Severus to watch over him and keep him from harm as he did no one else.

His eyes were too heavy to keep open much longer. Maybe just a little more sleep then. He shifted slightly and snuggled down into the warm human pillow beneath him.

Before he became totally unaware of the world, he thought he heard a soft sigh, and the movement of a hand from where it lay on his chest up to stroke his hair again. He knew that touch. He slept.

Woke again. Refreshed as well as relaxed this time. He tilted his head back so that he could see the man who held him so tenderly. Sev was asleep, his eyes closed, his breathing even. He looked so much less burdened and weary in his sleep, less tense and unhappy. He looked good. Harry resolved to try and make him look like that more often when he was awake.

Harry knew that he should move, he had indulged himself for too long with this lie in. But he had never been held like this, had never felt like this. Felt loved. What if it didn't happen again? He would have to engineer situations to make Severus hold him. It was obviously the only way he would ever get any asleep.

Managing to extract himself reluctantly from the arms which encircled him, Harry eased off the couch and went to have a quick shower. It seemed pointless going back to his own rooms when this was closer. As the rivulets of hot water ran down him, he wondered if Severus had woken up yet. Had a sudden thought that the other man might not know that Harry was still here and come into the bathroom.

He checked the door. It was locked. After another minute, he was reminded of the fact that Sev had opened the door by force before. What if he thought Harry was trying to harm himself and came in? If he came in then he would see Harry in the shower. That wasn't an unpleasant thought. In fact, he was beginning to feel a tingle, much the same as the ones previously caused by Draco's presence. But stronger. And deeper.

He couldn't have a crush on Severus could he?

He remembered how it had been to be held in those arms. To wake up in those arms. To be worked on by those hands. Those hands.....

Okay, bad thoughts, stop now.

They didn't stop.

Maybe he did have a crush on Severus.

He eventually emerged from the shower, relieved and disappointed at the same time that Sev hadn't come flying through the door, and glanced towards the couch in trepidation. Still asleep.

Outside the portrait hole, he found that Serminysa was absent, she must have gone on one of her tours of the castle again. Harry would just have to work this out by himself then.

Severus hadn't moved. Harry found himself smiling softly for no particular reason, and moved back to his usual seat, careful not to alert the other occupant of the sofa.

He picked up the book and started to read through it. Though it was harder to read Parseltongue than it was to speak it, especially as he was still learning to use his own gift rather than Voldemort's, it was very enjoyable. When he wasn't trying to translate it and just let the words and their meaning flow through him, it all made more sense. Maybe the error had come in trying to translate it literally word for word. If he read it properly and understood it, then he would be able to tell Severus roughly what it said.

The introduction was interesting, actually some comments about Parseltongue It hinted that contained within the journal was a potion that enabled a person to understand Parseltongue Harry didn't think that was very helpful when you had to speak the language in the first place to be able to read the recipe. But still, it sounded fascinating. Sev would.....

He looked over at Severus. Still sleeping.

Back to the book. He carried on reading, though it was becoming a bit heavy. He couldn't help himself from glancing up every minute or so to see if Sev was awake yet.

"Stop it," he muttered to himself in Parseltongue

He got a reply. From the only other one in the room who could speak the language.

"Again? Will you be going red next man-snake?" Harry promptly blushed. "Snakes should not change colours, so it must be a man thing. You like this one too?"

Harry hissed something uncomplimentary. Which provoked laughter.

"I know it is true now since you protest so vehemently. This one is good for you. It is well that you like him. And he likes you too, I can smell it."

Stupid snake and her smelling things. Wait, what did she mean Sev liked him? Was that in her special sense of the word or the normal one? He tried not to look too interested. She laughed again and went to sleep in a coil.

Damn.

Severus stirred slightly, and Harry's attention immediately switched to him. Then he realised that he didn't want to be caught staring so went back to determinedly focusing on his book. He would not look. He would not.

"Good morning," came the sleep filled voice from the other end of the couch.

The way that the words rolled off the other man's tongue sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He'd never noticed that voice before. Well, actually he probably had, but only now that he seemed hyper aware of Severus did he analyse his own reaction. He turned.

"Hi," he said in return, offering a shy smile.

Sev smiled back and stretched. Harry made a concerted effort not to look, and in the end forced his rebelling eyes back to the page in front of him.

A soft chuckle. Oh Merlin, that voice really was amazing. "I see that you're already hard back at work. A Gryffindor just won't be defeated will he?"

Harry loved this, the teasing battles they had. Where it didn't matter so much who won.

"And when a Slytherin's path is blocked he finds another way," he countered. Sev's small nod acknowledged his point. "I wasn't thinking too clearly last night."

"Actually, that would have been this morning."

Harry blinked. Oh. That would explain why he had been so tired.

"Right. Well, now I thought that if I read through it myself and understood it, then I could explain it to you without translating it precisely, which was what I seemed to be having problems with."

Severus nodded in agreement. "So, what have you found out so far?"

"Oh, well there's a general introduction. Darion mentions a potion that will allow someone to understand Parseltongue Maybe we could make it, then you could read the book yourself?"

Harry saw the other man's face light up with eagerness as he shook off his drowsiness. He knew that look. That was the look that Sev got when he was deep into his potion making. That excitement, so rarely if ever seen by anyone else, was what made Harry love Severus so much.

Severus practically dragged him into the lab and stood by impatiently while Harry found the appropriate section. Not long ago Harry would have quailed under the pressure, but now he just laughed to see Sev being so impatient, acting so childish in his delight at the idea. He fixed the instructions in his head firmly, remembering not the words but rather images of what needed to be done, then indicated to Sev to talk to him in English so that he would switch languages. He kept the pictures of the necessary ingredients clear in his mind, and told them to Severus, who started collecting them and then preparing them.

It was a potion that Harry couldn't do by himself, so he definitely needed the other man's help. He looked at the next step. Then his eyes wandered over to see what Sev's long, elegant hands were doing. Severus looked up at him and their eyes met.

Hastily Harry turned back to the book. Fennel and martin pine root. Did that look mean anything? Did Severus feel anything? No, he couldn't. He would never be interested in Harry. There wasn't much about him to be interested in.

He kept strictly to the recipe, making sure that every step was perfect. Sev wouldn't be impressed with him if he got this wrong after all.

They had completed most of the potion now, and had to leave it to simmer for at least twenty hours. He placed the lid on carefully, tidied up, and was about to move out into the other room when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn't even feel the hand so much as the accompanying ripple of warmth which moved throughout his body. He was going to blush. No, he mustn't.

Slyrissin was laughing at him again.

He gathered the courage to look up to Severus' face. Brave, strong Gryffindor.

"You did really well today. Thank you," said that voice.

The most incredible rush went though Harry. Sev was proud of him. He was worth something after all.

He couldn't stop grinning like a crazy person.

Sylrissin couldn't stop laughing. He had given up on trying to stop her, threats only seemed to provide encouragement.

"I have to go out for a while, there are a few ingredients that I need to restock. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

The euphoria drained away slightly. Sev didn't want him to go with him?. Maybe he'd been too much trouble the last time the other man took him shopping. Severus probably didn't want to be burdened with an obsessive Quidditch freak.

He nodded agreeably, not wanting to be any trouble if Sev didn't want him to be around. "Sure, I can go back to my room and catch up on some reading. Or carry on trying to translate the journal."

Severus gave him a slightly surprised look. "You are welcome to stay here."

Was he? Was Sev just saying that? He did love the fireplace here, this room had come to feel like home. But he supposed that he shouldn't get used to it. These were Severus' rooms. Not his.

He gave a little shrug of indifference.

Sev left.

Maybe he could stay here for an hour or so, then go back to his room before Severus returned. He didn't want the man to think that he was always pestering him, didn't want Sev to feel obliged to spend time with him. He had thought... but no, Severus obviously didn't want to talk or anything today. Maybe he wasn't feeling well. Harry was starting to feel a bit off himself.

He crawled back onto the couch and attempted to read some more of Darion's book. The words swam in front of his eyes. He wasn't very dedicated was he? What would Severus say? He tried again. To no avail.

He tried reading the Quidditch book that Hermione had given him. The pictures of people swooping around on broomsticks didn't manage to capture his interest.

He mused on what Sev might be doing. If he was just going to the apothecary again, why wouldn't he ask Harry to go? Harry was supposed to be his apprentice. Sort of. Didn't that mean that he should go along and learn things?

Maybe he was reading far too much into this. Maybe Severus just hadn't thought to ask him along. But that would mean that Sev didn't consider him important.

Deciding that this was a war with himself that he would never win, he took the advice of Sylrissin who recommended that he went and made a potion to relax himself. Just making the potion was calming, and soon Harry managed to suppress his worries. Though he couldn't stop himself thinking about Severus every now and then.

"Harry?"

Harry started and almost poured the entire vial of goat's blood into the cauldron. Which would have been a very bad idea.

"In here," he answered distractedly, staring at the amount of potions he had made since Sev had left.

Perhaps he had got a little carried away?

Severus walked into the lab and greeted him. "My, you have been busy."

Harry shrugged, feeling embarrassed for no reason. "I was feeling restless."

Well, that was true.

"Are you finished here?"

Harry looked at him sharply. "Yes."

Did Severus want him to leave?

"Then would you like to play chess? I'm sorry I was so long, but I took a detour."

Harry hadn't noticed the time. He looked at the clock as they entered the living room and saw that it was almost five in the afternoon. His stomach agreed with the timepiece that it was long past time for him to have eaten.

As he set up the chess pieces, Severus arranged for food to be delivered. Harry blushed, the man had obviously heard his belly rumbling.

There were cookies. Harry felt better almost immediately. He was beginning to think about writing a book on the medicinal values of cookies, they were really under-acknowledged as therapeutic agents.

The chess pieces cheered him up too. At first they ran roughshod over him, but pretty soon his courage railed and he fought back.

"I can bloody well feel him up if I want to," he shouted back at the bishop.

Oops, maybe he shouldn't have said that. And so loud. He sneaked a despairing peek at Severus, only to find the man choking with silent laughter. He smiled tentatively himself. Maybe it was alright then.

They had almost finished the game. Harry was once again convinced that things were fairly normal. Severus didn't seem to be avoiding him, after all, it had been the other who asked him to play chess.

"Harry."

He looked up from contemplating his next move to see Sev regarding him nervously. He would have thought this as a distraction tactic, the kind they often pulled to try and put the other player off, but that Severus looked very earnest.

"I - I got you a birthday present. I'm sorry it's late." Sev held out a small package covered in silver paper.

A present. For him.

Severus had got him a present! Sev cared enough to... Oh! That was where he had gone earlier. That was why he hadn't wanted Harry to go with him. Harry felt so stupid, for doubting the other man. Severus had got him a present.

He blinked and came out of his daze when the hand started to withdraw, Severus' face looking even more uncertain.

"Sorry. If you don't want it I can..."

"No!" How could Sev think he would not want it? "You got me a present? I don't... I... Why? Thank you! It's wonderful."

That earned him a chuckle, sending more shivers down his spine because of it.

"You haven't even opened it yet."

"It's still wonderful," he said quietly.

The idea that Sev had gone out and brought him a present, even though it wasn't even his birthday any more... Wow!

He unwrapped it slowly, carefully, taking his time. Loving every moment. If there had been a fifty pence piece inside he wouldn't have been disappointed. He might have thought that Severus was going insane though.

"Oh," he whispered, the only sound he could articulate.

It was beautiful. A silver clasp for his hair, shaped like a small snake. As he reverently ran his fingers down it, the metal warmed under his fingers and came alive, rippling and uncoiling.

"It's beautiful. So beautiful."

He looked up, eyes moist with tears. Severus was smiling at him, and the expression in those dark eyes was soft.

A hand reached out and picked up the present. The other man moved behind his chair and removed the old leather thong, placing it on the table and then stroking his hands through Harry's hair. Harry leaned into the touch instinctively. That felt so good. His hair was gathered and retied with the new gift.

Severus came round and stood in front of him again. Harry managed to stand up, though his knees were slightly wobbly.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

The words were woefully inadequate. He stepped forwards and Sev's arms embraced him, holding him tightly. His head came to rest nuzzling against Severus' neck.

"Thank you. Thank you. It means... I..." Harry gave up on speaking and just held on to the man's shoulders tightly, trying to communicate his gratitude.

"You're welcome, Harry," came the soft, silky tones; warm breath whispering past his ear causing him to shudder slightly.

He pulled back, so that Severus could see how he truly felt in his eyes. Then realised that might not be such a good idea considering exactly what it was that he was feeling. But it was too late, he was trapped by that glorious swirling blackness, utterly hypnotised.

And whether or not Severus could read his thoughts became irrelevant when the man bent his head slightly and brushed his lips against Harry's.

The last thing Harry was aware of was the chess pieces cheering them on in the background and saying that they would now finally get some peace.

Flawed Lines - Chapter 19

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