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The Snow Came Down	By : Laney Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 2950 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter verse, and make absolutely no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Snow Came Down
- 1
Disclaimer: They're not mine...but like all the other writers, I wish they were.

This is a one-shot and I have no plans of continuing this by way of sequel or more chapters. I wrote this a few years ago but never posted it here (I have however, for your benefit, done a bit of editing).
I know it is May as I post this here, but think back to Christmas for a second. If you read it during the Spring or Summer, I suggest finding it again in the Fall or Winter; it adds a little something extra :)

~*~

"Harry" a voice calls out gently, but the person who's supposed to receive it doesn't, "Harry," they try again, still nothing. "Harry?" they begin to sound desperate. Finally they reach out to shake said boy's shoulder.

Harry shakes his head as he turns to face the other person, "Sorry, what was that?"

An eyebrow is raised, "I've been calling your name for the past two minutes, what was that?"

"Nothing, Snape," the name isn't spat; it's just a name now, "I'm sorry, I got distracted."

"By what?" And, Merlin help him, he truly wanted to know the answer.

"I just got lost I guess, it won't happen again, I'm sorry."

Severus looks out the window and vaguely sees the snow falling. It's not a light fall, either; this snow's going to stick. It's the first snow fall of the year. Harry says it's not anything, but he didn't see the look upon his own face, didn't see how his green eyes had shone with hope and sadness at the same time; didn't see how incredibly wise he had looked. Severus isn't stupid, he knows the snow effected Harry, but why it does is a complete mystery.

For Harry's part, he isn't sure why he can't tell Snape that he had been watching the snow fall; it isn't even that big of a deal. He guessed it came down to the fact that Snape might ask him why he was so intrigued by snow, but how do you tell a teacher that for some reason snow makes you long for something you can never have? Every time snow falls it reminds Harry of family and togetherness, and a love that he will never receive…one without bounds and that knows answers without having to ask a question.

At 17 years of age - his final year at Hogwarts marked by the death of Voldemort in the first couple months and then the rest marked by interviews, scandals, threats and well-wishes - Harry Potter gained the friendship of one Severus Snape. And if he were honest with himself, he wants more than friendship, and he hopes Severus does, too. Harry wants Severus to dream of him, to want him, to long for him. He wants the man to curse himself for wanting Harry, for being so stupid to fall for a student. If that ever happens to Snape, Harry wants it to be because of him.

Little does he know that he's already gotten his wish. Severus wants the same things from Harry: the want, the need, the longing, the loathing. Why is it so wrong to want someone to hate themselves for wanting you?

"Snape," a voice calls out, but the person who's supposed to receive it doesn't, "Snape," they try again, still nothing, "Snape?" they finally get the man's attention. Harry smiles at the look of mild confusion on his professor's face, "I understand what you mean, now."

"What?"

"Where you were coming from calling my name for a couple of minutes with no response. What were you thinking about?"

"I don't really know, actually," Usually the man wouldn't have admitted such a thing to anyone, but he doesn't feel pressured to lie around Harry.

"You were watching the snow pretty intently; I thought maybe you saw something out there."

"No…I saw nothing."

And that was the end of it.

--

A few weeks later the ground is snow-less once more. Harry is sitting outside a few hours before dinner, trying to clear his head as he faces the lake. He breathes deep, smells the purity of the air and exhales contently, showing his breath.

"Practicing breathing?" an amused voice says from behind, mildly shocking Harry.

"No, Snape, merely reveling."

"In what?" The man sits down beside him.

"Don't you smell it?" Harry asks, turning towards him seriously.

"Smell what?"

"It's going to snow soon."

"You can't possibly know that from a smell."

"How can't I? It smells like snow," He insists calmly as he looks out towards the lake once more.

Severus lets it go and they sit in silence for a few minutes before he gets the nerve to ask a question that has been nagging at him for at least the past four years, "Harry…why do you become so introspective during the winter?"

Harry looks him in the eye for a few seconds - searching for something - and then looks back at the lake, "What else is there to do in the winter? When everything else is dead, what can you focus on besides your thoughts?"

Severus wants to tell him that he has no right thinking such adult thoughts, but then decides that maybe, just maybe, he earned the right.

The ensuing silence stretches on for about 20 minutes, both contently lost in their own thoughts. Neither really notices the time pass until the snowflakes start to fall.

"I told you it was going to snow," Harry smiles at him, and he can't help but let the corners of his mouth twitch in response.

"Indeed," Is all he gives him.

Then Harry does something Severus never expected: he lies down on the ground, facing upwards toward the sky.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching the snow fall," he says before turning his head to look at Severus, "Come on, lie down."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not? We're just two people enjoying the solitude."

"Together."

He smirks, "Right. Now lie down."

"I still don't think…"

Harry cuts him off, "Will you just trust me? This is something you don’t want to miss."

So he finally gives in and lies down facing the sky. It's an odd feeling, watching the snow fall to you, instead of watching it fall to the ground. At first it makes Severus' breath catch - maybe in fear, maybe in awe - but soon he learns that he can breathe normally and be just fine.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Harry asks.

"Yes," Severus admits quietly.

"I told you so."

"Do you want a warming spell? It's cold."

"Maybe later; right now I like feeling the snowflakes."

And they stay like that until dinner, both heading in with red faces and runny noses. The cold and wet are alleviated by drying and warming spells, and the other things would go away on their own. Before walking in to the Great Hall, Severus takes a second to consider the fact that what he just did was an experience he'll never forget.

At dinner, the enchanted ceiling lets snowflakes fall down, never reaching the tables and not with the accompanying cold, for which the older man is grateful. Severus watches Harry gaze up at it, the way they had both done outside in the real snow not 20 minutes ago, and he can't help but watch the looks that pass over his face. Dumbledore notices, as well, but he isn't interested in watching Harry's face: he's interested in watching Severus'. The old man smiles at the gentle look on his employee's face; his boys deserve happiness, so as long as they keep it discreet (which he knows they will, and will probably even think they're fooling Dumbledore himself), he has no intention of stopping this.

But now, Dumbledore has a surprise for everyone, and he taps his glass as he stands up, "Now that it seems everyone is done eating," he smiles over the crowd, watching a few students drop their food to their plates, "I have a little surprise for you all, if you would all please follow me into the foyer."

Everyone begins to head out after the Headmaster, but Harry keeps his spot, waiting for Severus to come by before heading out.

"What is he up to?" Harry asks once Severus reaches him and they start walking together.

"I have absolutely no idea."

Harry ends up walking in front of the other man in the tight crowd. People are pushing, some are shouting, and others just aren't watching where they're going since they're too busy talking with their friends. They're almost at the door when Harry feels a hand brush against his butt. There and gone, quick as a flash, but definitely there. He decides to let it go, thinking it an accident, when there it is again, same as before! He doesn't jump, but he does sneak a look behind him and notices that Severus is the only one who has access to that area of his anatomy, and that thought makes his stomach jump. It happens a few more times before the group of students in front of them stops suddenly, causing Harry to stop suddenly, causing Severus to stop suddenly…right up against Harry.

Harry blushes. Severus blushes and tries not to fidget. There's nowhere for either of them to move at the moment, so they have to wait until the crowd around them begins to move again, which seems like forever when the world is moving in slow motion. It's not that neither of them wants the contact, but in the middle of a crowd of students it's a tad awkward.

Finally the crowd breaks and allows them to move out into the foyer. What greets them is a huge Christmas tree, completely decorated with lights and ornaments, and an exquisite angel atop (from what one could see of the top from the floor).

"I figured this year we would have a school Christmas tree for the purpose of exchanging inter-house gifts. You don't have to say who it's from, you don't have to do it when anyone can see, but as soon as the gift is placed underneath the tree, no one will be able to touch it but the person it's meant for."

The school erupts into great talk and speculation, which appears as though it won't dissipate for a long while yet. Harry and Severus, however, leave the gathering so that they can have their regularly scheduled tutoring session. Harry still isn't a great potions maker, but he's willing to work hard.

After the Potion of the Night is finished, the pair sits down to talk about it (and other things) in the Potion Master's office. It's a comfortable setting with a fireplace, table, two chairs and a cluttered-beyond-recognition desk.

"So what was the most difficult part of this potion?" Severus asks, sipping his tea.

"Well, I think the most difficult part was the Lace-Wings…chopping, not dicing them. The cutting is still the hardest part, I think, because there's such a fine line between all of the different methods, but each potion has to have a specific way…it drives me nuts."

Severus chuckles, "it takes some getting used to, but you are getting better at it."

"Thank you, sir," it’s still a shock to Harry whenever Severus gives him praise.

“You know I don’t give out compliments lightly. You actually earned that one tonight by making a perfect wart potion.”

"Shocking," Harry smiles, and then takes a drink of his tea. As he looks up again, he glances out the window, which then turns into a longing stare. He notices that the snow has stopped falling, but there's plenty of it on the ground.

"Harry?" Severus brings him back.

"Can we go outside?" He asks before he can stop himself. At the stunned look he receives, he blushes, "I mean, if I were to go outside and revel in the beauty of the snow…would you come with?"

"If you really want me to, I would," he says slowly, carefully.

"Great!"

And out they go. Upon getting outside, Severus casts a warming spell on both of them, not even asking for permission this time; neither of them was going to get sick on his watch. For a few minutes they stand there admiring the beauty of the untouched snow, and then suddenly Harry drops to his knees and starts balling it up.

"What are you doing?" Severus asks.

"I'm making a snowman. Have you ever made one?" His smile's nearly contagious, but only nearly.

"A snow-what? I've never heard of such a thing."

"Well, I've never made one myself, actually, but I've seen my cousin and his friends make them. Will you help me?"

"You have to guide me," Severus says once a calculating stare has been delivered.

"That I can do."

Severus takes the time to place a water-proofing spell on both him and Harry - really, what would the boy do without him? - before kneeling down in the snow beside him.

"So first you ball up some snow in your hands," Harry demonstrates as Severus imitates, "and then you roll it around the snow around you, making it bigger."

Harry goes to it like it's something so simple, but it must be a Muggle talent, because Severus can't do it for the life of him. He makes the first ball, that's easy enough, but making it bigger is proving to be another feat in itself as it keeps collapsing. After the third failed attempt (Harry has built what he claims to be the base, whatever that means), Severus throws the small ball of snow he was holding in his hands out into the Great White Open.

"Hey now," Harry laughs, "we're building a snowman, not throwing snowballs!"

"Snow-what?" The pink tint to the man's cheeks, the mild chaos written all over his face, and the slight mess of his hair makes Harry want to kiss him as he huffs and puffs, but he doesn't.

"Snowballs…you throw them at each other in hopes of hitting someone. It can be fun, but I've never really experienced that side of it."

"Oh."

"Come here, I'll help you make the mid-section."

In the process of making the mid-section and the head, their hands are in nearly constant contact, which is completely fine by both of them. Severus is increasingly glad they have chosen to go to a side of the castle without many windows to have their little snow-whatever adventure, because he's pretty sure any other student would have a heart attack if they saw him like this.

After Harry tells him their creation is finished, Severus really looks at it, "That's it?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's simply balls stacked on top of each other."

Harry laughs loudly, then asks, "Is there a problem with that?" with a less-than-innocent smirk.

The older man simply splutters for a minute, shocked by Harry’s nerve to say such a thing, before heading back towards the castle without another word.

And that was the end of it.

--

He pushes the table up to one of the windows and sits down with his knees to his chest, watching the snow fall. Christmas break started two days ago, and the castle is pretty much deserted except for some members of the staff, a handful of students and, of course, Albus Dumbledore.

Harry chose to come here because he needed the solitude, not to mention being close to Severus' things. The older man had given him permission to use his office during the break while he was away visiting family. That's why it scares him to hear a voice from behind him.

"Why is it I always find you mesmerized by the snow?"

Harry turns his head sharply to look at the speaker, "Snape! I thought you were gone."

"I was," he nods before walking towards the table, "I see you've made yourself at home in my absence."

"I was going to put it back."

"I don't doubt it."

They lock eyes for mere seconds before Harry turns back to look out the window, not wanting Severus to see him this emotional. Truth be told, snow makes him a level of sappy that would make any girl jealous on Valentine's Day, and he was in the middle of wallowing in thoughts of never having the man behind him before he showed up. Having him here now is torture.

He feels magic being performed before a leg appears on either side of him, and a chest presses against his back. Harry tenses before he feels two arms wrap around him, the corners of a blanket in the hands. He registers that the blanket is perfectly big enough to easily cover them both, and that's exactly what it's doing. Severus pulls him closer against him and Harry sighs contently before melting into the welcome comfort.

"Why did you come back?" Harry asks after they've been watching the snow fall for awhile.

Harry can feel the soft smile that spreads across Severus' face against his cheek before the mouth moves to his ear, "It started to snow," he whispers.

Harry smiles brightly at the words and somehow manages to settle further back against the older man.

The snow has finally brought him the love he never thought he'd find, even after he thought it had stopped listening.
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The Snow Came Down