Change of plans
When Harry pads into the kitchen the next morning, Snape is sat at the table finishing up his breakfast and, unlike any of the few other mornings when Harry has caught him eating, he remains seated even as Harry drops onto the chair opposite.
They eye each other warily across the top of the tattered tea cozy before Snape snatches it off the pot and pours Harry a cup of tea.
”Thanks”, Harry mumbles quietly as he accepts the cup.
”Welcome…” Snape murmurs.
Harry ducks his head and sips the tea quietly for a moment, avoiding the older man’s eyes as he replays the events of the previous night in his head, feeling more and more of a fool with every image. He can feel Snape’s eyes on him and briefly glances up to meet them before swiftly looking away again.
Snape is always keeping a watchful eye on Harry, but he’s usually subtle about it. Now, he’s out-right staring, Harry thinks. He’s not just wary of me breaking something of his or falling on my face, he thinks I’m going to have another meltdown at any moment…
”How did you sleep?” Snape asks finally, breaking the tense silence and Harry should welcome the conversation but all he can do is shrug uncomfortably. ”Are you feeling better today?”
”I’m fine”, Harry mutters.
Snape nods, surprising Harry by accepting the lie. But of course he didn’t buy it, he just don’t want to push me, Harry figures.
”Well”, Snape says, finally looking down at his own clasped hands instead and Harry automatically relaxes his posture a little. ”Dumbledore and I both feel that, in light of recent events, it is no longer safe for you to stay here with m—… here at Spinner’s End…”
”What?” Harry says.
His heart does a double knock against his breast bone as if to tell him to look sharp and he sits up straight in his chair again. For the first time this morning he wants Snape to look him in the eye so that he can have even a fighting chance of reading the man’s face, but Snape is looking anywhere but in Harry’s direction now and his face is even more unreadable than normal.
”We’ll wait for the cover of darkness”, Snape says quietly.
”What, tonight? I have to leave tonight?” Harry says, his voice rising of its own accord.
Snape nods once, then scowls a little at his hands still tightly clasped together on the table top before he unclasps them and quickly gets to his feet.
”But—!” Harry starts to protest, but before he can say anything Snape has disappeared out of the kitchen with his equivalent of the last word, a dramatic swirl of robes.
Fuck that, Harry thinks and scrambles to follow him out into the sitting room. Snape hasn’t positioned himself in his armchair like he usually does after breakfast however. Harry whips his head around and catches sight of his hand on the trap door to the stairs leading up to his bedroom just as he’s about to close it.
”Hey!” Harry calls out.
The hand reappears in the crack and pushes the door open again and Snape glares at Harry from the bottom step of the narrow staircase and it’s not one of his worst glares, more exasperated than anything but Harry quickly adds a Sir anyway, just to be safe. Snape turns his face away with a subtle eyeroll, and Harry would feel indignant if he wasn’t already overwhelmed by a mix of other more prevalent feelings.
”Relax. Before you start to piss and moan about it—” Snape says in a long-suffering tone of voice.
Snape swore, Harry thinks hysterically.
”I don’t moan—!” he splutters, but the other man ignores him.
”You’ll be spending the last days of your holidays at the Burrow.”
Snape gives Harry a meaningful look as if to say, See, you’d like that wouldn’t you? and Harry would, of course he would. He spent the first half of the summer daydreaming about going to the Burrow to hang out with his best friends and makeshift family instead of of being stuck with the Dursleys. But even so… the thought of leaving Spinner’s End now, of leaving Snape and their daily routine that he’s got used to, even comfortable with, and so suddenly, even if it is to go to the Burrow, makes Harry feel kind of hollow inside.
”That’s what you wanted in the first place, isn’t it”, Snape says and surprisingly enough there’s no scatching undertone to it, it’s almost as if…
He’s appeasing me, like I’m some pouting little child, Harry thinks and this time he does feel indignant.
”What about… ehm… my Occlumency lessons?” he demands.
Snape doesn’t reply but raises an eyebrow delicately, and it speaks volumes as usual. Harry juts out his chin defiantly and folds his arms though, stubbornly maintaining the eyelock.
”School term starts in a couple of days”, Snape reminds him.
It’s only for a couple of days, Harry translates and glowers at him.
”Stop treating me like a child!” He demands.
Snape blinks, slightly taken aback.
”Fine. But I suggest you start packing. We leave at dusk…”
”That’s hours—!” Harry calls after him, but Snape swiftly shuts the door behind him and then he’s gone and Harry is left glaring at a couple of gigantic Potions books instead.
*
Harry is still fuming when Snape reappeares in the sitting room a few hours later and glowers at him from his position in the man’s armchair. Snape pauses for a second in the doorway, simply taking in the sight of a ruffled, glaring teenager in his chair, but quickly decides to ignore him and strides into the kitchen without as much as a twitch of eyebrow in response to Harry’s scowl, which only makes Harry more angry with him.
He jumps up from the armchair and follows the other man into the kitchen and glares daggers at his back as he’s bustling about, preparing a late lunch or early dinner. Harry’s stomach rumbles a little quietly, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten anything and it’s almost enough to distract him when the smells of whatever Snape is putting together in the big casserole starts filling up the kitchen.
”You can chop some onions if you want to help”, Snape says with his back still turned to Harry and if the inviting smell of food wasn’t enough to completely distract Harry, that at least was.
”You want me to help?” he asks in shock.
He’s been offering to help out in the kitchen several times, but Snape is almost as protective of his kitchen space as he is of his Potions storeroom at Hogwarts and Harry had come to assume that the reason he always turned Harry down was because he didn’t trust him enough to do it right.
”One and a half should do. The chopping board is over there…”
The man points towards the other end of the kitchen counter, still without turning to look at Harry.
”Okay”, Harry says and tries not to seem too eager as he grabs the wooden chopping board and a couple of onions from the hanging basket above his head.
”You’ll find a knife in the second drawer”, Snape says.
”Okay”, Harry says again.
He closes the distance between them and pulls the drawer out and grabs one of the larger knives with a slightly shaky hand. Immediately he feels Snape’s attentive eyes on him and wills his hands to steady.
He starts peeling the onions and cuts them both in half, concentrating hard on keeping his hands steady and his posture relaxed. Be cool, don’t drop anything, don’t cut yourself, don’t cry… he tells himself, even as his eyes start stinging more and more with every cut.
He senses Snape in his peripheral the whole time and notices when the man straightens up further and turns to him. Damn it, Harry swears silently as the knife slips over a piece of onion and nicks the side of his fingers.
”That’s enough”, Snape says with a sigh.
He flicks his wand towards Harry’s hand and the little cut immediately closes again and the sting disappears.
”I’m not crying”, Harry blurts out and accidentally blinks a couple of tears out of his eyes.
He gestures towards the uneven bits of onion on the chopping board in explanation, as if Snape wouldn’t be aware of that already. Snape gives him an unimpressed look, but says nothing.
Harry gingerly grabs the chopping board and carries it over to the stove and tries to find the best way to angle it over the casserole.
”Thank you”, Snape says hurriedly and takes the chopping board from him.
Harry lets his shoulders sag a little and nods, before turning away and taking his seat at the table.
Snape finishes up the casserole with some herbs and a dab of cream, then levitates it over to the middle of the table before grabbing the half-empty bottle of elf-made wine from the shelf where Harry had found it the day before. He gives Harry an appraising look, then holds the bottle out in invitation over Harry’s cup with a questioning twitch of eyebrow.
”Really?” Harry says. ”But I’m not seventeen yet…”
”I know you’re not. However, I’m sure half a goblet of wine won’t kill you.”
”Oh yeah no, of course not, thanks, yeah I’ll have some, thanks…” Harry babbles, before catching himself and biting down on his lip.
Snape’s eyes twinkle a little with amusement for a second, but he he doesn’t say anything just pours some of the wine into Harry’s cup, then the rest into his own and takes his seat.
”Thanks”, Harry says again.
”You’re welcome”, Snape murmurs.
Harry takes a sip of the wine, but finds it to be quite bitter. As if reading his mind, Snape conjures up a glass of water for him and Harry alternates his sips until he starts to get used to the taste. He’s actually beginning to appreciate the rich flavour of it when he’s down to the last drops. They sit in somewhat comfortable silence, Harry eating his food eagerly and Snape mostly pushing his around on his plate and sipping his wine.
”Sir? Why do I have to leave?” Harry asks finally, careful to keep his tone light but the other man tenses up all the same. ”I mean, it’s just a few more days until school starts anyway. You said so yourself.”
Snape leans back in his chair and favours Harry with one of his penetrative stares that seems to reach inside your very mind, and Harry instinctively sends his mental shields up like he’s been taught by Snape during their Occlumency lessons. Snape smirks slightly, then looks away and drains the last drops of wine from his goblet.
”It’s just that I was starting to feel like we were really getting… somewhere, you know, in my lessons…” Harry continues feebly.
”Yes”, Snape says. ”You’ve certainly made some progress while you’ve been here. But all you really need to do now is practise, and keep doing your relaxation exercises before bed…”
”Right”, Harry mutters. ”Relaxation exercises.”
”Yes, and I’m afraid I couldn’t help you with those anyway”, Snape says snidely and Harry feels his cheeks heat up slightly. ”You’ll be able to continue practising at the Burrow, and after that at Hogwarts.”
”What if I need your help? Or what if I have questions?”
Snape frowns slightly at him, but doesn’t answer. Instead he clears the table with a flick of his wand and then gets to his feet.
”Did you finish packing?” he asks, changing the subject.
”It’s not dark yet”, Harry counters feebly, glancing out the window and realising with a sinking feeling that the dark grey of the sky outside will be an inky black within minutes.
”Get your things”, Snape says sharply.
”Fine…” Harry mutters and pads out of the kitchen.
He doesn’t understand why he’s so reluctant to leave. He’s missed Ron and Hermione so much all summer, but now that he’s finally about to see them, and Ginny, and the other Weasleys, it’s like he doesn’t want to anymore.
But it’s not like that, he thinks as he throws the last of his books and socks into his trunk. I do want to see them, and I do want to go to the Burrow, I just don’t want to leave here… because I kind of like hanging out with Snape, when he’s not being a complete git to me…
And that’s the real issue, if Harry is being honest with himself. He’s worried that he’ll leave Spinner’s End and whatever magic that has made Snape almost-nice to him all summer will be broken and he’ll show up at Hogwarts in a few days and Snape will be just as horrible to him as he always is.
Just the thought of it makes Harry’s stomach clench painfully.
”Hurry up!” Snape calls from the other side of the door.
Harry sighs, shrinking his trunk and Hedwig’s cage and putting them in his pockets. Hedwig is still off hunting, but he knows she’ll either find him at the Burrow or just head straight for Hogwarts.
”Potter!”
Harry takes one last look at the small, but cosy room that he’s started to think of as his own, then with a deep breath he joins Snape out in the hall.
”Took you long enough”, the man mutters. ”Didn’t you have all day to pack?”
”Sir, do you mind calling me Harry? Just… When it’s the two of us… Please?”
”I’ll call you whatever you want if you hurry up”, Snape grouses and strides out of the sitting room and out the front door.
*
The second time Side-Apparating is just as awful as the first, and Harry has to swallow compulsively to keep himself from vomiting. What has changed, is that it doesn’t feel nearly as awkward to be near Snape. Harry even lingers close to him once they’ve landed in the field outside the Burrow, gripping his arm loosely in his hand still. Snape gives him a questioning look, but doesn’t wrench his arm free nor step away from Harry.
”Are you all right?” he asks quietly.
Harry peers up at him and simply nods, then finally lets his hand fall away from Snape’s arm but doesn’t step back.
”Harry…” the older man murmurs, but trails off.
”Yeah?” Harry says, oddly breathless all of a sudden, his heart beating harder, faster.
”We’re exposed here, we need to get you inside.”
”Is that really what you wanted to say?” Harry says, letting his disappointment shine through.
”Now”, Snape snaps.
Harry rolls his eyes, but relents. He lets the other man grab him by the shoulder and steer him towards the Weasley’s assymetric house. Harry is gripped by a strong sense of nostalgia and for a moment he forgets his worries about Snape and just feels home. But when they reach the front door and the man’s hand falls off his shoulder again Harry feels colder immediately.
He turns around to face him, to say something, anything, while he still has a chance, but Snape glances at him quickly and then hurries to reach over his shoulder and knock on the door. It opens almost instantly and before he knows it, Harry has been enveloped in a big warm hug, Mrs Weasley’s voice exclaiming his name as she cruches him in her arms.
”…And Severus, what a lovely surprise! Come in, both of you!”
”No thank you”, Snape murmurs. ”I can’t stay. I merely wanted to make sure Harry got here safely, as per Dumbledore’s request…”
”Oh, of course, well if you’re sure you can’t stay”, Mrs Weasley says and finally lets Harry go again, although she keeps combing her fingers through his hair, as if that would have any effect on it’s rebellious tousles. ”I’ve made some soup though, if you want some before you leave…”
”Thank you, but no”, Snape says again. ”I really must be on my way…”
Then he turns to leave, and Harry is gripped by a sudden fear that this is it. Harry lutches forward and steps closer to the man again, to do what he isn’t sure, to grab him, to make him stay…
”S-So I’ll see you in a couple of days… then…” he says lamely.
”Yes, I’ll see you at Hogwarts”, Snape says with his back still turned.
”Okay, well… Bye then, Severus…”
Snape stills his movements for a moment, and Harry’s heartbeat picks up again. And for a split second, he thinks Snape will turn back to face him, to say goodbye properly, maybe Goodbye Harry, I’ll see you soon or something like that, nothing too dramatic, but something, and he does turn… Harry holds his breath… And suddenly he’s gazing out into a never-ending darkness; Snape has Disapparated.