The next day, there is a rap at the front door.
Severus opens it just a crack. Frowning at Potter, he asks, "Is something wrong?" He huffs out purple smoke before stubbing out his fag on the door jamb.
"I just thought I'd pop over and say 'hi,' and ask—"
"I have guests."
"Oh," Potter says. The question 'Who?' is written on his face.
Severus's lip curls. "You assume I speak to no one, and do nothing, waiting for your owls and your luncheons—"
"Well, no—"
"Everything all right, Sev?" Mike calls.
Potter's eyebrows lift.
Unfortunately, as the door opens directly into the parlour, Mike can lean back and see who's at the door. "Merlin's beard. You're Harry Potter."
"I know I am," Potter says, and Grandma chuckles. "Hello."
Severus sighs. "Potter, this is Mike. Mike, this is Potter." He opens the door a few inches more, and Potter peers in.
Mike sits amongst records strewn all over the floor, with a Butterbeer in one hand, and a handful of playing cards in the other. He is rational and quiet, and just the sort of person Severus can abide.
"I've heard so much about you!" Mike says.
Potter's eyes dart over to Severus.
"Not from me," Severus clarifies.
"From my mum! She's the Hogwarts Matron."
"Oh, Madam Pomfrey," Potter says. "We've met once or twice."
The three of them lapse into silence and Potter looks inexplicably disappointed.
This looks awkwardly like a date. For some reason, he wants Potter to know that it isn't.
"Well—er—I came about your book. But I can see you're busy...so, er, I'll just pop back some other time. Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
Severus doesn't give him a chance to say anything more and slams the door.
Mike raises his eyebrows at Severus.
"Don't say a word," Severus says.
Mike swigs some of his beer before saying, "We don't all have young men knocking at our door."
"I don't have young men knocking at my door," Severus says. "One man has knocked. Once. And you were here to witness the only occasion." Severus picks up his cards. "Come on—it's your turn."
****
The banging at the door wakes up his grandmother, who says, "Put the lights on, it's like the dark hole of Calcutta in here!"
When he goes to answer the door, Potter barges in.
"What is it?" Severus asks.
"We need to talk."
Severus narrows his eyes.
Potter squares up to him, hands on hips. "You are rude, and you insult me. You drive me mad. But I know that's not who you really are! I thought we were friends."
He wants to say, 'you thought wrong'.
"You would be my second."
Potter doesn't hear the significance of this, runs his fingers through his hair, and barrels on. "I dream of you every night—every night!" Potter comes closer, eyes flashing. "And it's just...torture! Knowing you don't care, that you don't want, when we're..." He breaks off as though he has said too much. He has.
YOU ARE READING
The Space Between Failing and Falling • Snarry •
FanfictionA very long time ago, Severus resigned himself to the reality that he doesn't have a soulmate after all. He's finally a real Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and his life is perfectly tolerable, thank you very much. However, at the age of thirt...
