Chapter 3
Graduation came quickly with party planning and studying for finals monopolizing Harry’s little free time. He’d seen Severus once since their meeting to discuss catering when the man visited to pick up some assorted fictional non-fiction books and give him a copy of the proposed menu. For reciprocity’s sake, Harry had handed the other man a copy of his degree ceremony invitation and told him to come watch if he had a spare moment.
Actually receiving the diploma was the easiest part of his academic career, and he gladly exited the building to share hugs with his friends. Hermione squeezed him tightly and he avoided several pieces of bushy hair entering his mouth with ease.
“Oh, congratulations Harry!” she said, punctuated with another sharp tightening of her arms that made him feel asphyxiated. “We’re all so proud of you, and first-class honors too!”
He was the first of their group to graduate, due to his accelerated degree program, Neville’s part-time load to offset his work at a plant nursery, and Hermione’s combined undergraduate and master's degree program. Luckily for them, the other two would be graduating with some other friends (such as Luna, Nev’s girlfriend, and Ginny, Harry’s ex-girlfriend-turned-close-friend), so hopefully they wouldn’t feel too lonely.
As he looked up to give his friends hugs and thanks in return, Harry noticed a tall figure from the corner of his eye and turned to face Severus dead-on. He hadn’t expected the man to come, so could only gape for a few moments as his roommates (who knew many things about the gorgeous caterer with a sarcastic streak due to Harry’s loudmouth and many a phone call) shared smirks.
Finally, he shook himself out of it and gave the man a grin. “Severus, I’m so glad you made it! How was the ceremony?”
The older man nodded back, mouth curving into what could almost be a smile. “It was quite scintillating. Congratulations on your diploma, Mr. Potter. Your mother would be quite proud of you,” Severus said quietly enough that Harry’s friends couldn’t hear. “I do have to go now, but I wanted to stop in and say hello. Oh, and I shall see you at your celebration in a few days. Goodbye.” His parting words echoed over his shoulder, and Harry watched as Severus headed toward a shaded and quiet street that he must have parked on.
After finishing up with festivities (namely returning to his London apartment for one last night to celebrate with Hermione and the rest of his friends by drinking large quantities of alcohol), he drove back to Rosemont and found himself strangely relieved to be back in the bookstore. Perhaps he had a deeper attachment to Potter’s than he thought.
Inside, the shelves upon shelves of books had been slowly straightened into a semblance of order, and he’d decorated with various items from his old apartment and an antique store just down the block. Albus from next door donated a few items for the store’s ambiance as well, and as Harry looked over it now, he was quite proud of how it turned out.
The walls were a deep maroon with intricate patterns dancing across the wallpaper, and the floors’ dark wood complemented the color nicely. Sconces emitted warm lighting from their spots staggered across the walls, and several runners provided a pop of comfort between the aisles of mahogany shelves. Paintings, plants, and old silver antiques decorated the rest of the room into a cozy and slightly old-fashioned bookshop that felt magical, in Harry’s mind.
Upstairs, he’d changed out the Murphy bed for a normal full-size frame and mattress topped with a soft blue duvet, cleaned out some older items that didn’t work or were not his style (ahem, ugly), and filled the kitchen with groceries to last him several weeks. The boards from the downstairs windows had been sent to a carpenter named Ron with a small shop off Main St, who Harry had recognized as Ginny’s older brother once he finally learned the sturdy man’s last name. From there, the dots to connect his ex-girlfriend with Fred/George (whoever they were, twins or just a man with a silly attitude) were quite easily traced.
The boards were just enough to make a small bookshelf to go near the bed, and he’d jumped at the chance to personalize his new home a little more. Ron had been adamant that the shelf would be finished in time for the reopening celebration, and he would drop it off when he attended, even as Harry had told him frantically not to ignore his other projects and it would be fine if things weren’t quite done by then.
He glanced up at the ornate clock that now graced the wall above the television and blanched. Already eleven in the morning? He had so much to prepare for the party over the next two days, and it felt quite daunting. Luckily, Hermione planned to visit the next day and help with setting up, so it wouldn’t be just him alone.
Hermione arrived the next day to much fanfare on Harry’s part. He already had several small folding tables set up across the shop and was putting crisply ironed tablecloths on each when she knocked at eight in the morning.
The door swung open to reveal her beaming face. “Harry!” she exclaimed brightly as she stepped inside to greet him with a hug, “Oh, the shop is just gorgeous. Why on earth haven’t you brought me here before?” Her eyes flitted between shelves to take in the books on offer, and he grinned at her.
“Do come in, my lady,” Harry teased gently.
Her face flushed at his joke. “Sorry. How are you? Did you start without me?”
Carefully he led her inside with a friendly arm around her waist and showed her what he’d finished decorating so far. Somehow his work had been less than expected, and they really only needed to set out some of the more popular books he’d ordered online and hang up the banner that read ‘Grand Opening!’. After showing her around the shelves a bit, they got to work.
On the tables around the room, he set out some novels that had been popular amongst the townspeople who’d visited so far, along with a fair few classics and those fictional non-fictions that many of the older folks loved so much. Hermione produced a roll of dark blue streamers from somewhere in her seemingly endless purse and began to hang them along the counter and the sides of every bookshelf. Finally, they met under a conveniently placed wooden support beam that ran along the ceiling parallel to the door. Harry held one side of the banner, Hermione the other, and together they carefully climbed two stepladders (borrowed from Ron) to put up the dratted heavy thing.
As Hermione fastened her side to the beam and Harry reached to do the same, a large boom echoed through the store and sent him tumbling off the ladder. His eyes widened in surprise, and he braced himself to hit the floor. A steady wall behind his back caught him and held him up, and he stumbled around to find Severus grasping his waist with a tight, built arm and the back of his head with another. Harry’s cheeks caught fire at once.
“Severus!” he yelped, springing backwards out of the taller man’s arms, “Are you alright?”
His saviour's eyes lit up with mirth and Harry saw Hermione’s do the same from the corner of his own. “I do believe, Mr. Potter, that I should be asking that of you. I hope you did not hurt anything during your fall,” Severus purred. God, his voice...
Harry shook himself and tried for a bright smile. “Oh no, I’m fine. Just startled. Er, what was that dreadful noise anyway?” He glanced around and was shocked (and a bit horrified) to find that one of his bookshelves had completely collapsed and several hundred books were now scattered on the floor in the middle of the room. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. Harry was not one to curse (his Aunt Petunia had visited often as a child, and he was quite well trained in manners because his mother did not like to hear her sister rant about things that offended her) often but felt this was a rather good time for it. “I can’t hold the party now, or at least, I won’t be able to do it here with this mess.”
Hermione’s hand came down on his shoulder gently. “We can clean it up before tomorrow, Harry, don’t worry,” she said.
He slapped a hand over his eyes and blinked rapidly to avoid coming to tears. “No, ‘Mione. Even if we did, I have nowhere to put the books in the back and the shelf looks too damaged to just put back up...” He trailed off briefly. “I’ll just have to postpone it, I think. Ron might be willing to help fix the shelves so we can reschedule for the summer. I’m sorry, Severus, I’ll have to cancel my order. I know it’s so last minute-”
Severus cut him off. “Mr. Potter, you will not cancel your celebration over a silly incident like this. I will get everything cleaned up and fixed down here. You and your...friend...should go upstairs and take a rest from worrying for the day. I’ll be up in a bit to fetch you.” Harry’s jaw dropped and he protested as the older man began to shoo them toward the back room, but his exclamations were ignored, and he was soon settled upstairs on the settee.
Hermione sat next to him primly and looked at him with a serious expression. “Harry...I think that there is something I need to tell you. About me, and about Severus Snape.”