Fic: Come Along With Me
Jan. 25th, 2016 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Come Along With Me
Author:
alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Summary: A chance meeting in a club leads to a new beginning.
Word Count: 2216
Genre: Romance.
Warnings: None, really.
A/N: Written for
enchanted_jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge #119: “Do you believe in magic”.
The title is from the song Do you Believe in Magic by the Lovin' Spoonful.
Beta:
sevfan and
emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Come Along With Me
~
“Do you believe in magic?” the man panted, grinding against Harry on the dance floor.
Harry sighed. Since this was a Muggle club, he wasn’t dealing with a wizard, so he was sure this was just some bad pick up line. “No,” he snapped, turning away from the man.
“Pity.” The bloke grabbed Harry’s hips and tried to press closer. “We could make beautiful magic together.”
“I said no!” Spinning, Harry shoved the man away. “I’m not interested.”
“Fine, fine!” Hands up, the bloke moved on, grinding against another dancer who, unlike Harry, didn’t seem to mind.
Irritated, Harry moved away from the dance floor, going over to the bar to get a drink.
This was a new club for him. Charlie had recommended it, but it seemed like everyone there was only there for one thing, and all Harry wanted was a chance to dance and let himself go for a while, not necessarily pull.
Not that he wouldn’t if the right bloke came along. But so far none interesting had appeared.
The bar was busy, so Harry scanned the dance floor as he waited for the bartender to notice him.
“What can I get for you?”
Smiling, Harry spun around to give his order, and he froze when he realised who was waiting on him. “Snape?”
Snape looked good. He was all in black, as always, but his normally sallow skin looked pale and clear, his neck was healed, and his black eyes glittered with some unnamed emotion. And unlike Harry, he didn’t seem surprised. “Yes, Potter, it’s me. I work as a bartender, excuse me, mixologist, in a gay Muggle club. Now, did you want a drink, or do you plan to return to the dance floor and rebuff more men?”
“I…” Harry frowned. “You saw that?”
Snape smirked. “No, I made it up. Of course I saw, Potter. And I’m curious about what he said to you.”
Harry shrugged. “Nothing important.”
Snape hummed. “I see. Well, it’s part of my job to be aware of everything that goes on in here. Now, for the last time, do you have a drink order?”
“I’ll just have an ale,” Harry said hurriedly.
Snape nodded curtly.
As he walked away, Harry couldn’t help but eye his arse. Bloody hell, when had Snape developed that gorgeous body? Harry wondered how many of the people at the bar were there because they wanted a shot at Snape. He pursed his lips. He wouldn’t mind a shot at Snape himself.
When Snape put the bottle of ale down in front of him, Harry smiled. “Thanks.” Pulling out some Muggle money, he paid, and making sure Snape saw, he left a large tip in the tip jar.
Snape snorted. “Flaunting your money, Potter?”
“I’m not—” Harry bit back the rest. Some things never changed. Snape could still wind him up like no one else. “I just like to reward good service,” he said once he was calmer.
Snape looked unimpressed. “Was there anything else you wanted?”
Harry licked his lips. “Yeah, actually. Why are you working here? Why not in the…” he lowered his voice, “…Wizarding world? You do know you were acquitted, right?”
Snape stared at him for a long moment. “Who would hire me?” he finally asked. “I’m the Death Eater who stood by and watched as monsters tortured impressionable student at Hogwarts.” His lips twisted. “And I called it education.”
“You did what you had to do, as did we all. And, from talking to Neville, I know you did your best to protect the students when you could.” Harry sipped his ale and tried not to look too sympathetic. Snape would be the last man to respond well to pity.
Eyes narrowed, Snape opened his mouth, but then paused as another customer signalled him. “I’m working, Potter. I don’t really have time to talk right now.”
“How about later? When do you get off?” Harry asked. “Maybe we can talk then?”
Snape paused for a long moment. “Perhaps,” he finally said. “Unless, of course, you find someone here who…interests you more.”
Pulling up a barstool, Harry shook his head. “That’s unlikely.”
Snape muttered something that sounded like, “We’ll see,” before leaving to tend to other customers.
Harry settled in to wait, nursing his ale as he watched people. The bloke he’d originally rejected had started dancing with two men and seemed pleased with himself. Everyone else appeared to be having a good time, too, and here and there, couples were breaking off to disappear into dark corners.
Sighing, Harry finished his ale, placing the bottle on the bar. A moment later the empty bottle was removed, replaced seconds later with a full one. “Thanks,” Harry said.
Snape didn’t reply, but his mouth did twitch into the semblance of a smile.
About thirty minutes later, Snape cleared away Harry’s latest bottle of ale. “That’s the end of my shift, Potter. If you were actually serious about talking—”
“Definitely,” Harry said, sliding off his stool. “Where should we go?”
“There’s a coffee shop around the corner that should suffice.” Snape inclined his head. “As an employee, I should exit through the back, so I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”
Harry nodded. “Brilliant.”
It took Harry three minutes to get out of the club because of having to maneuver around all the gyrating bodies. As he glanced around the street, he spotted the coffee shop and, exhaling, strolled towards it.
Snape still beat him, however. He was waiting at a table when Harry walked into the shop, a steaming cup sitting in front of him on the table.
After ordering his own beverage, Harry picked hot chocolate, he joined Snape at the table. “Sorry, it took me a while to escape,” Harry said.
“I can imagine.” Snape took a sip of his drink. “So, what was it you wished to discuss?”
All of his many questions trembled on his tongue, but all Harry could come up with in that moment was, “So you’re gay?”
Snape blinked. “I admit, that wasn’t what I thought you’d ask first,” he murmured. “Or even second.”
Harry cleared his throat. “Well, because of where you’re working, I just wondered—”
“Yes,” Snape interrupted. “I understand why you asked. And yes, I am.”
“You are? But—” Harry paused as the barista delivered his hot chocolate. “But what about my mum?” he asked softly once they were alone again.
“Lily?” Snape sighed. “While I loved her very much, it was never that way. She was my dearest friend growing up.” He pursed his lips. “It was years later that I truly realised my own inclinations, however. In fact, I was older than you when it became an inescapable conclusion.”
“You probably didn’t have someone like Hermione telling you that you’re gay, though,” muttered Harry. “I think she knew before I did.”
“No, I did not,” Snape agreed. “Your mother would have been the closest thing I had to a Ms Granger, and by then we were out of each other’s lives.”
They sat together chatting for several companionable minutes, Harry talking about the many changes taking place at the Ministry, Snape revealing memories of Lily and James Potter.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Harry eyed Snape over the rim of his cup. “So why won’t you come back to the magical world?” he finally asked. “No one’s going to arrest you, and it’s been long enough that people probably won’t remember your role in the war.”
“People have long memories,” Snape said. “And I am content in my current life.”
Harry smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to keep visiting you here, then,” he said, putting down his empty mug. “Same time tomorrow night?”
Snape snorted. “I daresay that if you become a regular at the club you’ll find better things to do than faff about with an old Death Eater.”
“We’ll see.” Harry stood. “May I see you home?”
“I’m fine, Potter.” Snape also stood. “But I will walk you to the Apparation point.”
“Do you live in a Muggle neighbourhood, then?” Harry asked as they walked.
“It’s mixed,” Snape said. “One of those places where no one looks too closely at what their neighbours are doing.” Pausing, he gestured towards an alleyway. “After you.”
Before stepping inside, Harry grasped Snape’s hand, shaking it. “See you tomorrow.” And as he moved away, Snape’s reply followed.
“Time shall tell.”
Snape seemed surprised to see Harry the following evening at the club, but without being asked, he placed a bottle of ale in front of him. And so it began. Every evening, Harry would show up, rebuff anyone who approached him, and drink a couple of ales as he waited for Snape’s shift to end.
In turn, Snape would agree to meet with him at the coffee shop where they would spend a couple of hours chatting. They covered all topics, from Harry’s career goals as a Healer at St Mungo’s, to Snape’s plans to one day visit Australia. They became regulars at the coffee shop, so much so that the barista, Beth, had their drinks waiting for them when they arrived each evening. Visiting the coffee shop became the highlight of Harry’s day.
One night, Snape set down his mug and pinned Harry with a glare. “All right, Potter, you win. I’ll ask. What are you up to?”
Harry shook his head. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean, it’s been weeks since we started coming here on these…excursions. What exactly is it that you hope to accomplish?”
Harry toyed with his mug for a moment as he debated how much to say. “I guess I should be honest,” he said.
Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, you should. Now tell me.”
Harry exhaled, hoping he wasn’t about to scare Snape. “Well, I like you. And I was hoping that you’d start to like me, too, if I went out with you regularly. So far it’s only been for coffee because I’ve been too nervous to ask you out on a proper date, but now that you know, maybe you’d like to go out to dinner sometime?”
There was a long silence. Harry began to shake inside, fearing he’d made a horrible mistake.
“Oh, don’t leave him hanging, Severus,” called Beth from behind the counter. “Say yes! You know you want to.”
Snape glared at her.
Harry licked his lips. “Is she right?” he asked quietly. “Do you want to?”
Snape folded his hands carefully in front of him on the table. “I would not be opposed to the idea,” he said quietly. “But I refuse to go to any of these modern places where they paint the plates with sauces and give you tiny, artful dishes.”
Relieved, Harry grinned. “Fair enough. Do you like Italian? Because here’s a great Italian place in my neighbourhood I’d love to take you to.”
“Italian is acceptable.”
“And how about tomorrow?” Harry asked. “Is tomorrow acceptable, too?”
Snape’s lips curved up faintly. “Quite. I can meet you at the restaurant.”
“I’d rather come and get you,” Harry said, daring to touch Snape’s hand.
“Very well.” Snape didn’t move his hand.
“Will you two just kiss already?” said Beth.
Snape huffed. “I believe it’s time to go,” he said, standing up and pulling Harry with him. “Obviously we’ve no hope of privacy here.”
“See you tomorrow!” Beth called after them. “Unless you’re too busy getting busy to get coffee!”
“Insolence,” Snape muttered, but he was still holding Harry’s hand as they left, so Harry didn’t mind.
When they got to the Apparation point, Harry turned to face Snape. “So am I collecting you at the club or from your home?” he asked.
“Here is my home address.” Reaching into a pocket, Snape pressed a parchment into Harry’s hand. “I shall expect you at seven precisely.”
Harry smiled. “I’ll be there.” And, moving closer, he whispered, “I think Beth was right about one thing.”
Snape raised an eyebrow. “Just one?”
Harry laughed, and, surging forwards, he pressed his mouth to Snape’s.
Snape’s response was immediate and gratifying. Sliding his tongue into Harry’s mouth, he walked Harry backwards until he was against the wall, kissing him all the while. The kiss deepened, Snape’s tongue moving languidly in Harry’s mouth, driving him mad. When they finally separated, Harry was dazed. “You’re sure you don’t want to come home with me now?” he panted.
“That would probably be unwise,” Snape said, staring intently into Harry’s eyes. “There’s no need to rush things, after all.”
“Rush—” He’d been chasing Snape for weeks, what was one more day? Harry exhaled. “Right. No rushing.”
“Can you safely Apparate home?” Snape asked. “Or do you require assistance?”
“I’m fine.” Harry smiled. “See you tomorrow?” Leaning in, he kissed Snape softly.
“So it seems.” Snape cupped Harry’s face in his hands. “One question.”
“Yes?”
“What was it that man said to you the first time you came into the club?”
Blinking, Harry thought back. “Why do you want to know?” he asked.
“So that I may never make that mistake myself.”
Harry shook his head. As if he could. “He asked if I believe in magic.”
Snape hummed. “And do you?”
Closing his eyes, Harry embraced Snape. “I do now.”
~
Author:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Summary: A chance meeting in a club leads to a new beginning.
Word Count: 2216
Genre: Romance.
Warnings: None, really.
A/N: Written for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
The title is from the song Do you Believe in Magic by the Lovin' Spoonful.
Beta:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Come Along With Me
~
“Do you believe in magic?” the man panted, grinding against Harry on the dance floor.
Harry sighed. Since this was a Muggle club, he wasn’t dealing with a wizard, so he was sure this was just some bad pick up line. “No,” he snapped, turning away from the man.
“Pity.” The bloke grabbed Harry’s hips and tried to press closer. “We could make beautiful magic together.”
“I said no!” Spinning, Harry shoved the man away. “I’m not interested.”
“Fine, fine!” Hands up, the bloke moved on, grinding against another dancer who, unlike Harry, didn’t seem to mind.
Irritated, Harry moved away from the dance floor, going over to the bar to get a drink.
This was a new club for him. Charlie had recommended it, but it seemed like everyone there was only there for one thing, and all Harry wanted was a chance to dance and let himself go for a while, not necessarily pull.
Not that he wouldn’t if the right bloke came along. But so far none interesting had appeared.
The bar was busy, so Harry scanned the dance floor as he waited for the bartender to notice him.
“What can I get for you?”
Smiling, Harry spun around to give his order, and he froze when he realised who was waiting on him. “Snape?”
Snape looked good. He was all in black, as always, but his normally sallow skin looked pale and clear, his neck was healed, and his black eyes glittered with some unnamed emotion. And unlike Harry, he didn’t seem surprised. “Yes, Potter, it’s me. I work as a bartender, excuse me, mixologist, in a gay Muggle club. Now, did you want a drink, or do you plan to return to the dance floor and rebuff more men?”
“I…” Harry frowned. “You saw that?”
Snape smirked. “No, I made it up. Of course I saw, Potter. And I’m curious about what he said to you.”
Harry shrugged. “Nothing important.”
Snape hummed. “I see. Well, it’s part of my job to be aware of everything that goes on in here. Now, for the last time, do you have a drink order?”
“I’ll just have an ale,” Harry said hurriedly.
Snape nodded curtly.
As he walked away, Harry couldn’t help but eye his arse. Bloody hell, when had Snape developed that gorgeous body? Harry wondered how many of the people at the bar were there because they wanted a shot at Snape. He pursed his lips. He wouldn’t mind a shot at Snape himself.
When Snape put the bottle of ale down in front of him, Harry smiled. “Thanks.” Pulling out some Muggle money, he paid, and making sure Snape saw, he left a large tip in the tip jar.
Snape snorted. “Flaunting your money, Potter?”
“I’m not—” Harry bit back the rest. Some things never changed. Snape could still wind him up like no one else. “I just like to reward good service,” he said once he was calmer.
Snape looked unimpressed. “Was there anything else you wanted?”
Harry licked his lips. “Yeah, actually. Why are you working here? Why not in the…” he lowered his voice, “…Wizarding world? You do know you were acquitted, right?”
Snape stared at him for a long moment. “Who would hire me?” he finally asked. “I’m the Death Eater who stood by and watched as monsters tortured impressionable student at Hogwarts.” His lips twisted. “And I called it education.”
“You did what you had to do, as did we all. And, from talking to Neville, I know you did your best to protect the students when you could.” Harry sipped his ale and tried not to look too sympathetic. Snape would be the last man to respond well to pity.
Eyes narrowed, Snape opened his mouth, but then paused as another customer signalled him. “I’m working, Potter. I don’t really have time to talk right now.”
“How about later? When do you get off?” Harry asked. “Maybe we can talk then?”
Snape paused for a long moment. “Perhaps,” he finally said. “Unless, of course, you find someone here who…interests you more.”
Pulling up a barstool, Harry shook his head. “That’s unlikely.”
Snape muttered something that sounded like, “We’ll see,” before leaving to tend to other customers.
Harry settled in to wait, nursing his ale as he watched people. The bloke he’d originally rejected had started dancing with two men and seemed pleased with himself. Everyone else appeared to be having a good time, too, and here and there, couples were breaking off to disappear into dark corners.
Sighing, Harry finished his ale, placing the bottle on the bar. A moment later the empty bottle was removed, replaced seconds later with a full one. “Thanks,” Harry said.
Snape didn’t reply, but his mouth did twitch into the semblance of a smile.
About thirty minutes later, Snape cleared away Harry’s latest bottle of ale. “That’s the end of my shift, Potter. If you were actually serious about talking—”
“Definitely,” Harry said, sliding off his stool. “Where should we go?”
“There’s a coffee shop around the corner that should suffice.” Snape inclined his head. “As an employee, I should exit through the back, so I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”
Harry nodded. “Brilliant.”
It took Harry three minutes to get out of the club because of having to maneuver around all the gyrating bodies. As he glanced around the street, he spotted the coffee shop and, exhaling, strolled towards it.
Snape still beat him, however. He was waiting at a table when Harry walked into the shop, a steaming cup sitting in front of him on the table.
After ordering his own beverage, Harry picked hot chocolate, he joined Snape at the table. “Sorry, it took me a while to escape,” Harry said.
“I can imagine.” Snape took a sip of his drink. “So, what was it you wished to discuss?”
All of his many questions trembled on his tongue, but all Harry could come up with in that moment was, “So you’re gay?”
Snape blinked. “I admit, that wasn’t what I thought you’d ask first,” he murmured. “Or even second.”
Harry cleared his throat. “Well, because of where you’re working, I just wondered—”
“Yes,” Snape interrupted. “I understand why you asked. And yes, I am.”
“You are? But—” Harry paused as the barista delivered his hot chocolate. “But what about my mum?” he asked softly once they were alone again.
“Lily?” Snape sighed. “While I loved her very much, it was never that way. She was my dearest friend growing up.” He pursed his lips. “It was years later that I truly realised my own inclinations, however. In fact, I was older than you when it became an inescapable conclusion.”
“You probably didn’t have someone like Hermione telling you that you’re gay, though,” muttered Harry. “I think she knew before I did.”
“No, I did not,” Snape agreed. “Your mother would have been the closest thing I had to a Ms Granger, and by then we were out of each other’s lives.”
They sat together chatting for several companionable minutes, Harry talking about the many changes taking place at the Ministry, Snape revealing memories of Lily and James Potter.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Harry eyed Snape over the rim of his cup. “So why won’t you come back to the magical world?” he finally asked. “No one’s going to arrest you, and it’s been long enough that people probably won’t remember your role in the war.”
“People have long memories,” Snape said. “And I am content in my current life.”
Harry smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to keep visiting you here, then,” he said, putting down his empty mug. “Same time tomorrow night?”
Snape snorted. “I daresay that if you become a regular at the club you’ll find better things to do than faff about with an old Death Eater.”
“We’ll see.” Harry stood. “May I see you home?”
“I’m fine, Potter.” Snape also stood. “But I will walk you to the Apparation point.”
“Do you live in a Muggle neighbourhood, then?” Harry asked as they walked.
“It’s mixed,” Snape said. “One of those places where no one looks too closely at what their neighbours are doing.” Pausing, he gestured towards an alleyway. “After you.”
Before stepping inside, Harry grasped Snape’s hand, shaking it. “See you tomorrow.” And as he moved away, Snape’s reply followed.
“Time shall tell.”
Snape seemed surprised to see Harry the following evening at the club, but without being asked, he placed a bottle of ale in front of him. And so it began. Every evening, Harry would show up, rebuff anyone who approached him, and drink a couple of ales as he waited for Snape’s shift to end.
In turn, Snape would agree to meet with him at the coffee shop where they would spend a couple of hours chatting. They covered all topics, from Harry’s career goals as a Healer at St Mungo’s, to Snape’s plans to one day visit Australia. They became regulars at the coffee shop, so much so that the barista, Beth, had their drinks waiting for them when they arrived each evening. Visiting the coffee shop became the highlight of Harry’s day.
One night, Snape set down his mug and pinned Harry with a glare. “All right, Potter, you win. I’ll ask. What are you up to?”
Harry shook his head. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean, it’s been weeks since we started coming here on these…excursions. What exactly is it that you hope to accomplish?”
Harry toyed with his mug for a moment as he debated how much to say. “I guess I should be honest,” he said.
Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, you should. Now tell me.”
Harry exhaled, hoping he wasn’t about to scare Snape. “Well, I like you. And I was hoping that you’d start to like me, too, if I went out with you regularly. So far it’s only been for coffee because I’ve been too nervous to ask you out on a proper date, but now that you know, maybe you’d like to go out to dinner sometime?”
There was a long silence. Harry began to shake inside, fearing he’d made a horrible mistake.
“Oh, don’t leave him hanging, Severus,” called Beth from behind the counter. “Say yes! You know you want to.”
Snape glared at her.
Harry licked his lips. “Is she right?” he asked quietly. “Do you want to?”
Snape folded his hands carefully in front of him on the table. “I would not be opposed to the idea,” he said quietly. “But I refuse to go to any of these modern places where they paint the plates with sauces and give you tiny, artful dishes.”
Relieved, Harry grinned. “Fair enough. Do you like Italian? Because here’s a great Italian place in my neighbourhood I’d love to take you to.”
“Italian is acceptable.”
“And how about tomorrow?” Harry asked. “Is tomorrow acceptable, too?”
Snape’s lips curved up faintly. “Quite. I can meet you at the restaurant.”
“I’d rather come and get you,” Harry said, daring to touch Snape’s hand.
“Very well.” Snape didn’t move his hand.
“Will you two just kiss already?” said Beth.
Snape huffed. “I believe it’s time to go,” he said, standing up and pulling Harry with him. “Obviously we’ve no hope of privacy here.”
“See you tomorrow!” Beth called after them. “Unless you’re too busy getting busy to get coffee!”
“Insolence,” Snape muttered, but he was still holding Harry’s hand as they left, so Harry didn’t mind.
When they got to the Apparation point, Harry turned to face Snape. “So am I collecting you at the club or from your home?” he asked.
“Here is my home address.” Reaching into a pocket, Snape pressed a parchment into Harry’s hand. “I shall expect you at seven precisely.”
Harry smiled. “I’ll be there.” And, moving closer, he whispered, “I think Beth was right about one thing.”
Snape raised an eyebrow. “Just one?”
Harry laughed, and, surging forwards, he pressed his mouth to Snape’s.
Snape’s response was immediate and gratifying. Sliding his tongue into Harry’s mouth, he walked Harry backwards until he was against the wall, kissing him all the while. The kiss deepened, Snape’s tongue moving languidly in Harry’s mouth, driving him mad. When they finally separated, Harry was dazed. “You’re sure you don’t want to come home with me now?” he panted.
“That would probably be unwise,” Snape said, staring intently into Harry’s eyes. “There’s no need to rush things, after all.”
“Rush—” He’d been chasing Snape for weeks, what was one more day? Harry exhaled. “Right. No rushing.”
“Can you safely Apparate home?” Snape asked. “Or do you require assistance?”
“I’m fine.” Harry smiled. “See you tomorrow?” Leaning in, he kissed Snape softly.
“So it seems.” Snape cupped Harry’s face in his hands. “One question.”
“Yes?”
“What was it that man said to you the first time you came into the club?”
Blinking, Harry thought back. “Why do you want to know?” he asked.
“So that I may never make that mistake myself.”
Harry shook his head. As if he could. “He asked if I believe in magic.”
Snape hummed. “And do you?”
Closing his eyes, Harry embraced Snape. “I do now.”
~
no subject
Date: 2016-02-07 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-07 12:58 am (UTC)