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To Have and To Keep	By : MontanaDan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15257 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
To Have and To Keep

Chapter 2 - New Friends

Harry cracked open one eye and immediately regretted it.

"Come on, Sunshine," a voice that sounded far too chipper called. "Time to wake up."

Harry pushed himself to a sitting position, his stomach clenching and his head pounding. He still hadn't opened his eyes. "You drank as much as I did, Montgomery," Harry croaked. "Why the hell are you so bloody cheerful?"

"Because I have a magic potion," Grant's voice returned, closer now, and definitely amused. "And if you'll open your eyes and take it, you too can feel better."

Harry cracked an eye and saw Grant before him, freshly dressed and holding out a vial. With an effort, Harry took the vial and looked at it. One sniff told him it was indeed a hangover potion. He tossed it back and closed his eyes again, waiting for it to take effect.

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

"Almost nine," Grant said. "And you'll have to excuse me if I hurry you along. Some of us have normal jobs and have to show up on time."

"Sorry," Harry muttered, pulling himself together. He really didn't want Grant to get into trouble. He'd done Harry a good turn, taking him home. He stood up stiffly and stretched. Groping for his wand, he did a quick scourgify on himself and his mouth. Feeling somewhat human again, he turned to Grant.

The man was staring at him.

"What?"

Grant shrugged and turned to gather some rolls of parchment from a nearby table. "Nothing," he said. "It's just odd to see the Harry Potter in my living room. Your glamour is gone."

Harry chuckled. "I'm surprised it lasted as long as it did with the amount I had to drink."

Grant sent him a grin.

"Thanks," Harry said. Grant turned back to him. "Really, I mean it."

"No worries, mate," Grant returned. "Next time, you can be the responsible one."

Harry smiled. "Deal." He looked around. "Can I do anything before I leave?"

Grant stepped up to him. "How about a kiss for my trouble?"

Harry looked at him curiously. "A kiss?"

"Well, I don't have time for a fuck," Grant said.

Harry's jaw dropped open until he saw Grant grin. Harry laughed and took a hold of his face. Intending to make it worth it, Harry put both lips into it. He slid his tongue into Grant's mouth and heard a groan come from the other man. Sliding their tongues together, he tasted the other man's mouth.

When Grant leaned into him, clutching his shirt, Harry eased away. Pulling back, he saw Grant slowly lick his lips, savouring the imprint of Harry's mouth.

"That was pretty bloody great," Grant murmured.

Harry smiled shyly and shrugged. "I'll let you get to work," he said. "See you soon." Without waiting for a reply, Harry Apparated to his flat.

Falling to a seat on his own couch, Harry pressed the heel of his palm against his scar as it twinged. His stomach gave a lurch as well. Damned curse.

Curse? Curse! Reminded, Harry leapt to his feet, swearing. He had to meet Bill for his curse breaking lesson that morning. A quick shower and a change of clothes later, and Harry was Apparating again, this time to the Hotel where Gringotts had set up Bill for the duration of Harry's training.

The Apparition point was an adjunct to a small shop in Mayfair, which was busy enough that Harry was able to Apparate in and leave before anyone could get a good look at him. Then, once on the streets of London again, he relaxed as he walked to the 18^th century street.

The doorman eyed him skeptically as he held the door open and Harry wondered if perhaps he shouldn't have worn jeans. The girls at the desk were chattering to themselves, probably enjoying the quiet since the lobby was empty. Harry made sure his fringe was covering his scar, a habit no matter where he was. Bill had told him that it was a 'mixed' hotel, but Harry wasn't sure how mixed that meant. He didn't feel any magic as he entered, as he had with his new shop yesterday.

"Can I help you?" one of the women, Melanie, her tag said, spoke up pleasantly. All three smiled at him with identical, perfect smiles. It was a little scary actually.

"Um, I'm here to see Bill Weasley," Harry said.

Melanie consulted a computer on the desk in front of her but one of the other girls giggled.

"Mr. Weasley is in the Kipling Suite," giggling-girl said.

Melanie agreed and picked up a telephone. "Who's calling?" she asked.

"Just tell him Harry is here."

The woman nodded, shushing her coworker as she pushed a couple of buttons. "Mr. Weasley, a gentleman named Harry is here to see you. Very well. Yes, sir." She hung up and looked at Harry, smiling again.

"Fifth floor, sir. Mr. Weasley is expecting you."

Harry nodded his thanks and moved towards the elevators, ignoring the giggling that continued behind him. The young man standing beside the elevator grinned at him, his eyes moving to Harry's forehead.

"Just Harry, eh?" he said, pressing the button to call the carriage. "Good thing those daft birds over there didn't figure it out."

The door opened and they both entered the car. "Floor?"

"Er, fifth," Harry said, eyeing the man, who pushed the correct button. "Are you, um, a�" He couldn't figure out how to put it.

"A wizard?" the man supplied and Harry nodded. "Yes. This is just a part time gig for me. I'm going to uni. I'd like to teach. Hogwarts is my dream, but I'd take one of the smaller schools."

"Oh?" Harry asked with interest. "What subject?"

"History of Magic is my major, although I'd do well in Muggle studies," Steve, as his tag denoted him, said. "Don't suppose Professor Binns'll retire, do you?"

Harry laughed, but his response was forestalled as the doors opened. Bill was standing in the hall.

"Hey, Harry," Bill said.

Harry stepped out of the elevator and shook Bill's hand. "Good to see you," he said. He turned and gave Steve a wave as the doors closed between them. "Good luck," Harry called.

"Next time, you'll be able to Apparate right to the hall here," Bill told him. "Rather than go through the lobby. Steve will talk your ear off, if you let him."

Smiling, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I guessed that."

Bill ruffled his hair and led him down the hall. He held the doorknob of the room marked "The Kipling Suite" and it glowed for a second before the door opened.

"Welcome to my temporary home," Bill said, waving his arm over the threshold so Harry could step in.

Harry moved into a very nice suite. Whistling his appreciation as he peered around, he couldn't help but be impressed. "Are these magical rooms?"

"Nope," Bill replied. "This is the real thing. I don't even ask how much it costs." He paused to grin. "I just sign my name and the Bank does the rest."

Harry smiled back, his eyes taking in Bill's lithe form, casually dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. At least it made him feel better about his own attire. He guessed they couldn't really work if they were dressed up.

Very easy on the eyes, that Bill Weasley.

Harry had to agree. Of all the Weasleys, Bill was the highest up on the 'attractive' chart. While he was like Ron, tall and thin, Bill had wide shoulders and the line of his body suggested firm muscle beneath the pale, scarcely freckled skin.

"Are you ready to get started?" Bill asked.

"Sure," Harry said, pushing away his thoughts. "Time is money. Where do you want me?"

Bill grinned. "There's a loaded question."

Harry felt his face heat up, but Bill was already moving across the suite toward a sitting area of sorts and didn't notice.

Yeah, right, he didn't notice. Bill is not Ron.

Bill told him to sit down in front of a large desk. There were several items placed in a row on the surface of the desk and Harry could feel the Dark magic pulsing at him. His scar throbbed a bit but it wasn't screaming to be fed, so he sat patiently and waited for instructions.

"The first thing I need to do," Bill told him, seating himself on the other side of the desk. "Is test your sensory perception. Many curse-breakers become so attuned with certain types of Dark magic that they don't need to use a spell to detect it. Most, however, can sense Dark magic immediately. It helps in the profession if you are the type who can sense it to begin with."

Harry nodded. Sounded logical to him. "So what do you want me to do?"

Bill gestured towards the line of items. "Pick out the object that is cursed with Dark magic, of course," he said.

Harry's brows shot up. Was he kidding? He could tell just by sitting here that at least two were cursed. But Bill was the teacher so Harry held out his hand. He let it hover over a pearl necklace. The Dark magic in the piece was weak, but it was there.

"You can pick them up," Bill said.

Harry bit his lip. "I'd rather not," he said. If his scar wasn't causing him pain, he'd rather not feed it. It seemed too much like over-medicating and he didn't want to do that.

Bill shrugged. "All right. So go on."

Studying the objects, Harry held his hand over each. Out of the six items, he felt Dark magic from five. He looked warily at Bill.

"What do you think?" Bill asked.

Harry reached out and picked up a little statue of Merlin. Bill sighed as he did and Harry grinned.

"This one," Harry said. "Is the only one that doesn't have Dark magic."

Bill blinked at him. "Really?"

Harry nodded. He pointed at each one as he spoke. "The necklace and the lighter are weak; the vase has like a pulse to it; the quill only seems Dark when my hand is directly over it and the candlestick is very strong."

Surprised, Bill pulled his wand and cast a spell over the necklace, the lighter and the quill. "Curious," he said. "The candlestick and the vase are the targets. When we give the test, we hope that the applicant can name the candlestick and are pleased if they get the vase." He cast another spell on the quill. "This is definitely an interesting curse," he said, and met Harry's gaze. "It must have felt something in you which made it flare up every time you reached for it."

"I-"

"You want to tell me what's going on, now?" Bill said, crossing his arms. "The whole story. Aside from you being a natural at this, there is definitely something else happening here. You should not be able to feel the curse on the necklace without a spell."

Harry sighed. Maybe Bill could help anyway.

When Harry left the hotel an hour later, Bill knew everything, had been sworn to secrecy and had promised to give them all the help he could give. He had given Harry a textbook on the breaking of curses on inanimate objects and while Harry wouldn't necessarily have to use spells to break a curse yet, he would have to know the material. After all, the spell that was affecting Harry would eventually be broken.

You hope.

It had been a very comfortable meeting with Bill. It helped that he had known Bill since he was fourteen and that Bill was his best friend's brother. Harry just had a feeling that even if he hadn't know the Weasleys all his life, that he'd probably still get along fine with the eldest brother.

As Harry Apparated home, he couldn't help smiling. Bill was smart, had done some exciting things and he was handsome to boot.

You are not going to fall for another one of your teachers!

Harry shook off the thought. Falling for Bill wouldn't be so bad, he considered. At least his family already liked Harry and they'd be just as disappointed if either one of them got hurt.

The thought made him smile, until his head throbbed. He rubbed his scar absently. All the talk of Dark curses had started to worry him. Even if he did have cursed items available, he wasn't so sure he wanted to keep feeding his scar.

Maybe, he'd set up his potion equipment and start working on that experimental potion that he and Severus had started. If he could crack the addictive qualities of it, he would have a safe countermeasure to take without feeding his scar Dark magic.

With that in mind, he fixed a sandwich and dug out his notes. Setting his parchments over the table, he settled down for lunch, trying to figure out how to make the base without using flobberworms.

He tried to recall some of the things he and Grant had mentioned the night before. Grant Montgomery was handsome, too, he couldn't help thinking.

His inner voice, which still sounded too much like Severus for Harry's peace of mind, made a rude comment about his taste.

Harry ignored it.

*******

Harry was in the middle of testing a flobberworm-free potion base when the wards on his flat signaled that someone was at his door. His work had been less than satisfactory despite his efforts, but Harry could probably attribute the failure to his somewhat dated ingredients. He'd have to Owl-order some new additives or make another trip to Diagon Alley.

Scrapping the batch, he grabbed a rag for his hands and moved to the outer rooms. The room he was using to work in was magically created. He was rather pleased with the way it had turned out.

That's because it's so much like Severus' private lab.

Irritated by his lack of results, and his annoying inner voice, he flung open the door. "What do you-"

Severus Snape's form, looming over him, silenced him.

Speak of the devil.

The Potions master's eyes swept over him, taking in his stained apron and well-worn work clothes. One black brow rose. "Brewing, Mr. Potter?"

Harry wrung his hands in the rag. "Er, yeah," he managed. He stepped back to allow Severus to enter. A scene out in the hallway would not do. Old Mrs. Higgins across the hall was a nosy sort. "What can I do for you, Professor?"

Severus' gaze had swept the room, admiring the changes in Harry's flat. Harry was rather proud of it. Severus turned back to Harry with a frown. "You can't actually think that I broke our date simply because I had something better to do?"

That's your Severus. Straight to the point.

Harry looked away. Thinking back, he could acknowledge that he did overreact a bit. "No," he admitted. "I was disappointed."

Stepping up to Harry, Severus lifted his chin so their eyes met. "As was I."

"And the Headmaster did invite me to the castle."

Severus scowled. "Yes, I wondered about that," he muttered. "You didn't happen to mention why you could not visit him last night, did you?"

"Um, yeah," Harry said. Severus' closeness was intoxicating and he'd forgotten how easy it was to get lost in his gaze.

"Did you say you were seeing me?"

"Um, no. But I did tell him that he knew who I was going to see."

Nodding, Severus moved away. Harry let out his breath. He'd thought that Severus was going to kiss him.

Hoped, you mean.

"You think Dumbledore is trying to interfere with us seeing each other?" Harry asked, following Severus' line of thought. Severus had always been suspicious by nature.

And you wonder where you get it?

"I have reason to suspect," Severus affirmed.

"But why?"

"You are like a son - grandson, at least - to him," Severus pointed out.

"So are you," Harry shot back.

Severus let out a patient sigh. "Needless to say, that he doesn't want to see you hurt again."

Harry raised his chin. "I don't want to see me hurt again either."

Severus shook his head, looking straight at Harry. "I will not hurt you again, Harry. I swear it. I will be the one nursing a broken heart this time, if you decide against a relationship with me."

"Will we have a relationship?" Harry asked, unable to keep his heart from jumping a bit in his chest. "It won't be just an 'association'?"

Severus flinched slightly then smirked. He always did appreciate Harry's lame attempts at humor. "Are we not already 'dating'?" Severus asked pointedly, although he did scowl when he said the word.

"Are we?" Harry challenged. "We haven't had a date, yet."

"True." Severus took a step and tilted his head. "I have a suggestion that will test my theory regarding the Headmaster as well as establish our dating relationship."

Now, Harry's heart picked up its beat as well.

Pathetic, really.

"I'm listening," Harry said.

"You are visiting the castle tonight, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then let us plan to met this Saturday," Severus said. "We will attempt to dine out again. Say around 7:30."

"All right," Harry agreed somewhat breathlessly.

"Purposely mention it to Albus during your visit."

"I get it," Harry said. "If he detains you again on Saturday, we know he's trying to interfere."

"Yes," Severus said, stepping up to Harry again. "Only this time, if I am delayed, I will meet you at a pub called O'Malley's at 10:00. They serve food until 11:00."

Harry grinned. "Ah, plan 'B'. Even if the Headmaster thinks he's thwarted us."

"Correct."

"And what if he doesn't interfere?"

"Then I will pick you up at 7:30 as planned."

Harry's smile grew brighter. Before he could even reply, Severus lowered his head and attached his lips to Harry's. Harry melted into his chest and the long, strong arms came around him, holding him securely.

Their lips clinging, their tongues danced as they surrendered to a heartfelt kiss. Seconds melted into minutes as their mouths tasted their fill. When Severus pulled away, his hands were gentle on Harry's face.

"I really wish I could stay, but I must return to school."

Harry nodded. "I understand." He escorted Severus to the door. "Thank you for coming to tell me. Really."

Severus smiled briefly. "You're welcome." He ruined it by smirking. "Your wards are better, Mr. Potter."

Harry just grinned. "I'll see you on Saturday, then."

"Yes. You can tell me all about your experimenting," he said, with a wave at Harry's dirty clothes.

Harry agreed and closed the door softly behind Severus. He leaned against it with a contented sigh.

You're grinning like a simpleton.

Harry didn't care. With a lighter heart, he moved back into the workroom and began again. He had more luck this time. Nothing blew up and the base was almost acceptable.

********

That night at the castle, Harry did have a very nice visit with the Headmaster. It was a challenge not to come right out and ask if the man was interfering, but Harry managed to contain himself. He wanted to give Severus' plan a chance.

Yes. Do let Severus do the thinking.

Harry enthusiastically told Albus about his new antique shop and that Bill was training him at curse-breaking. Dumbledore watched his animated descriptions fondly, his eyes twinkling with something like pride. Harry rather liked that.

"You could always come back here and teach, Harry," Albus offered, sipping his tea as he watched Harry over the rim of his cup.

Harry wondered if the Headmaster realized that Harry coming back would make it easier for him and Severus to continue their relationship. Although, he considered, the headmaster wasn't a fool.

Maybe he's thinking it would be easier to interfere if you were here.

Now that Harry could believe. Dumbledore just loved to interfere in Harry's life. Harry considered the question. As much as he would love to come back to the castle, he didn't think it was a good idea to do so right away.

"Don't misunderstand me," Albus added, as if reading Harry's thoughts again. Harry automatically Occluded his mind. "It is just that I miss you."

Harry smirked. "You miss me or the trouble I get myself into?" he joked.

Albus smiled. "You must admit that wherever you are, things are always less than dull."

Less than dull, indeed.

Harry snorted.

"But as I mentioned after your fifth year, I believe," the headmaster went on, "I have fallen into the great trap and I find myself melancholy without your presence."

Harry bit his lip. Albus had more or less just said that he loved Harry. "Profes-" He sighed, struggling with his words. "Albus, I miss you a lot too," he admitted. "And I think I would like to come back here and teach one day, but until I get this curse sorted out�"

Dumbledore looked understanding then.

"I don't feel right being here around the children."

Albus nodded grimly but smiled nonetheless. "Always thinking of others," he murmured. "I understand, but do keep us in mind. The knowledge and talent you possess and could pass on would be invaluable to the school."

Harry nodded. "I will."

Albus refilled their teacups and summoned some more biscuits. "So how is the research on the curse going?" he asked.

Sighing, Harry picked up his cup. They had told Albus about the curse and some of its side effects. In fact, Harry was starting to forget just who knew how much when it came to his curse. "Sometimes it seems hopeless."

"I daresay that Dark curses are not to be taken lightly."

Harry agreed. "But it does seem focused on my love life," he admitted.

"That seems logical," Albus said, fussing over his choice of candy in a bowl. "As it was love that ultimately thwarted Voldemort. He would no doubt leave some residual magic making it difficult for you to retain love."

Harry sat up. What if that was it? The clue they'd been looking for? The curse didn't want him to have love and that's why it flared up every time he became close to someone.

But your scar doesn't hurt when you're with Severus.

Falling back into his seat, he damned his inner voice for being so logical. "It just doesn't make sense," Harry said with a sigh.

Albus looked up from his candy dish. "Love rarely makes sense, Harry."

It wasn't until Harry was leaving that he got the chance to drop the hint about Saturday. The headmaster asked when Harry could come and see him again.

Harry sighed, trying to look contemplative. "Well, between classes with Bill, my new shop, and my date on Saturday," he said. "Plus I promised Sirius to have him and Remus over for dinner." He looked up. "How about Sunday? Same time?"

Albus looked curious for a moment, but smiled. "I'll look forward to it."

***********

Harry sat on the counter next to the register of his new antique shop. 'Davenport's Antiques' was now Harry's. Neville had asked him if he wanted to change the name of the shop, but out of respect for Mr. Nash, as well as considering the charm that was probably on the establishment, Harry decided not to. The store would probably just change it back anyway.

Mildred Chesterfield and Cassiopeia Abbott were soon to arrive. Harry was a little nervous about meeting the staff. He'd never been in charge of anything (he didn't count having to kill Voldemort), or anyone before. Harry didn't count the D.A. as they were just a group of kids and it had been more like a group workshop anyway.

Can you be the boss?

Harry wondered. He looked up as the bell tinkled at the door. That little tinkle made him smile again. Two gray-haired ladies entered, chatting a bit loudly to each other. One looked a little disheveled but that could have been because of the impeccably neat appearance of the other.

"Oh, Millie, don't be silly," the disheveled one said. "I'm sure he's not an ogre."

Harry hoped they weren't discussing him. He watched them look around, probably noticing that the store looked the same, and waited for them to notice him.

"You can't be Mr. Carlson," the neat one said, her gaze settling on Harry. "You're much too young."

"Not exactly," Harry said. "Please, if you'll take a seat," he indicated the two over-stuffed wing-back chairs that he'd transfigured earlier and placed before the counter, "I'd like to speak with you both."

"Where's young Jack?" the disheveled woman asked.

"He's in school, you twit," the neat one said, although her tone was pleasant, almost teasing.

"Oh, yes. Of course."

"He'll be here in a little bit," Harry informed them as they settled into the waiting chairs. "I wanted to speak with you both first."

"Oooh. That sounds ominous," the disheveled one said. She looked up at Harry, still perched on the counter, and Harry felt uncomfortable as astute blue eyes swept over him. "You're wearing a glamour."

"Is he?" The neat one's chocolate colored eyes raked over him. "Where?"

Harry could assume that Cassiopeia was the disheveled witch. He was right, he discovered as they both introduced themselves properly. They were both widows. Millie had lost her Muggle husband to heart problems and Cassiopeia had lost hers in the first war with the Dark Lord.

Harry's flinch at the mention of the war wasn't lost on Cassiopeia and she immediately chided him that he was too young to remember. "But for those of us who do remember," she murmured reflectively, "they were dark times."

Millie interrupted her 'before she got going' and Harry sighed.

"Harry Carlson is an alias that I use with my glamour," he explained. "It simplifies travel for me."

"Oooh," Cassiopeia cooed again. "The plot thickens."

"Oh, shush, you hag, and let him finish," Millie scolded.

Harry couldn't help smiling at them. They reminded him of Ron and Hermione, always bickering. To shorten the tale, Harry waved a hand in front of his face, canceling the glamour.

The ladies stared for a moment. "Well, he's much more handsome without the glamour," Cassiopeia said.

"I thought he'd be disfigured," Millie added with a frown.

Oh, do show them your disfigurement.

With a smirk worthy of Severus, Harry pulled on the cuff of his sleeve and wiped off the make-up on his forehead.

"Well, that explains the glamour," Cassiopeia muttered.

Millie actually laughed. "And there you were going on and on about the 'dark times' of the first war."

Cassiopeia blushed. "Well, they were," she said defensively. "How was I supposed to know he actually fought the Dark Lord? You're supposed to be the seer."

"Well now, I haven't touched him, yet. Have I?"

They do go on a bit, don't they?

"Ladies," Harry finally interrupted them. "I trust we can keep this to ourselves?"

As they were agreeing, Jack, a youth of almost eleven bound in through the back door. He didn't seem to be the stealthy type as Harry could hear him all the way through the storeroom to the office and finally to the storefront.

The boy stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Harry. "Blimey, you're Harry Potter," he said, his hazel eyes wide.

Harry blinked. "I thought he was a Muggle."

"His Uncle is a wizard," Cassi told him. "Millie has 'seen' that he will be getting a Hogwarts letter."

"Oh?" Harry turned to the boy with interest. "Have you shown signs of magic?"

The boy was still gaping so Millie answered, "I've seen some unexplained levitation."

They got Jack settled in his own chair and once again, Harry hopped onto the counter. He explained that he was going to spend the rest of the week organizing and laying out the shop, and he wanted to re-open on Monday. The staff was welcome to have their old jobs back with the proviso that they kept his true identity a secret.

The ladies agree without hesitation and Jack said he'd have to ask his parents. Of course, his parents would have to be told the truth about Harry's identity but Millie swore they were a good 'sort' of family and since they didn't travel much in wizarding circles his secret would be safe. Cassi, as she insisted on being called, and Millie said they would take care of it.

Harry, trying to personify the role of 'boss', decided that delegating that job to them would have to do. As they finished up, Harry felt satisfied with the whole meeting. There was already a closeness between the staff members and he was hopeful that he'd be able to become a part of it.

"It's nice to know you, Mr. Potter," Millie said, holding out her hand. Harry looked at it, unsure if he was supposed to shake it or kiss it.

"Please call me Harry," he said, taking the thin hand. Millie instantly gasped and jumped back, her eyes glazing over for a moment. Then she sucked in a deep breath and stared at Harry.

"What was it?" Cassi demanded. "Tell us! Past, or future?"

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Millie said sadly.

"What?" Cassi asked again.

Millie grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the door. "Come along, Jack," she snapped and the boy jumped to follow, then she called back, "We'll see you soon, Harry."

Harry only blinked at her. At least she hadn't gone into a trance and started muttering in a deep gravelly voice.

Bunch of hogwash, that whole branch of magic.

Harry sighed and locked up the shop, affixing wards to both doors. When he Apparated home, he found a group of owls waiting at his window. He made a mental note to get a window box for owls. He had seen a couple at 'Gregor's'.

After collecting the notes, he tossed them onto his desk and gave the owls each a treat. Once they were gone, Harry shuffled through the post. Most were adverts addressed to Harry Carlson. Only mail from people he knew would make it to his flat and letters with malicious intent would incinerate as soon as they passed through the wards.

Two were addressed to Harry Potter. The first was from Bill.

Dear Harry,

My boss has granted me permission to use the Goblin archives at Gringotts. He was most interested in my initial report that you were 'a natural' at detecting Dark magic (which was all that I mentioned), and he was already aware of the 'curse' on you. Probably from the Prophet from when you were dating Malfoy.

Anyway, he's assured me that they'd like to 'help' you with your affliction. This doesn't surprise me, as Gringotts wants all the best talent working for them. They're shrewd, those Goblins. As the library contains some of the rarest books in the wizarding world, I thought it couldn't hurt to use them.

Just let me know and anyone you designate can look through the vault.

Sincerely,

Bill

PS: See you on Friday.

The second note was from Grant Montgomery saying that he was thinking about going to their pub again that night and asking if Harry wanted to go. Harry wrote back saying that he was going to work on a potion project.

While Harry was eating dinner, another owl came back.

Dear Harry,

I may as well stay home then. Maybe I'll wash my hair. I'm on the Floo Network so give me a yell if you need a hand.

Grant

Harry tossed the letter onto his desk with a grin and cleaned up his dinner mess with several spells. He loved magic. Then he went to his lab and pulled out his notes.

Several hours later, he was frustrated enough to actually Firecall Grant. Harry had to wonder if Grant was misleading him on how little a social life he had, given his good looks and charm. It seemed a bit unlikely that Grant would keep his night free to help Harry in something as mundane as potion experimentation, but Harry found it flattering that in this case, it was true.

In fact, Grant seemed quite happy to Floo through and help Harry out with his potion.

Harry led Grant into his workroom and Grant looked impressed.

"So, what's the problem?" Grant asked, studying the ingredients laid out on the worktable.

"I got the base to stabilize," Harry explained. "But I need a seed to activate the pain suppressant."

Grant looked at Harry's log of notes. "Have you tried sunflower seeds?"

Harry frowned, running the possibilities through his head. "That would react to the asphodel making the shelf life nil."

Grant nodded thoughtfully. "Unless you used sunflower-"

"Oil," Harry finished with a grin. Then the grin vanished. "Then I'd need an additional acid to breakdown the viscosity. It has to be metabolized relatively quickly."

Grant nodded, pacing several steps. "If only�" he trailed off.

"What?"

"Well," Grant speculated, "some snake venoms have a metabolizing properties."

Harry considered it. "That might work since there is already crushed Bezoar in the potion to counter the poison."

Grant grabbed a book off one of the shelves and flipped through the pages. "Ah, here we are." He started naming off several breeds of snakes with suitable venom.

"Wait a minute," Harry interrupted the list. "Viperine snakes have venom?"

Grant looked up and nodded. "They're not deadly and, of course, Viperines are better known for their eggs - being useful in beauty creams and scar poultices - but, yes, they are venomous."

Harry laughed. "This is great."

Grant looked at him worriedly. "Um, Harry, are you all right?"

Harry moved to the door and called Saruman. After leaning down so his snake could curl around his wrist, he straightened and turned to face Grant.

Grant's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. "You just happened to have a pet Viperine?"

Harry grinned, moving to the worktable. "Yeah, he's still young, but he'll do," he said. "He was a gift from Lucius."

Grant nodded. "How are you going to get the venom?"

"I'll ask him for it."

Grant looked frozen for a moment, as if deciding what to say. Then he laughed. "Ask him? Good one, Potter."

Harry stroked Saruman's head. ~I need some of your mouth juices. Will you help me?~

~Of course, master. What do I have to do?~

Grant looked a bit pale. "I thought everyone in the world knew Harry Potter was a Parselmouth," Harry said.

Grant shook himself out of his stupor. "Oh. Um, yeah. But knowing it and actually hearing it are two different things."

Harry shrugged, but Grant was still staring. "What?" he asked.

Grant grinned. "I just don't remember you being so good at potions," he explained.

Harry laughed. "Well, you could hardly remember, as you weren't there."

"Er, right." Grant flushed a bit. "Well, I'd never heard anyway," he went on. "Actually, my cousin said you were a bit of a potions dunce. Something about remedial potions."

"Yeah, Nott would say that," Harry said, gathering some vials. "But he didn't know that I was actually getting defense lessons from Snape."

"You got private defense lessons from Snape?"

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "That was my cover. I learned about potions the hard way."

Grant looked as if things were starting to make sense. "What way was that?"

"By necessity," Harry told him, recalling the pain from the visions.

He shook off the thoughts and had Saruman bite the top of one of his vials several times until they had a measure of venom to work with. They spent the rest of the night working with different quantities of the ingredients to find the right mixture.

The potion wasn't ready yet, not even enough to be tested, but it was a good deal closer than Harry had ever been able to get it before. By the time Grant left, Harry was exhausted. He double-checked his notes to make sure everything was accurate and legible for the next time, and cleaned up his lab.

He fell into bed with a strange sense of accomplishment.

That Grant isn't a bad fellow, really.

Stop thinking with your hormones and go to sleep.

Harry snorted into his pillow and drifted off.

********

By Friday, Harry gave up rearranging the store. The shop simply refused to be changed. Every time he reorganized or moved things around, the minute he looked away, the stuff would move right back. And it wasn't a Dark curse either, he would know if it were; it had to be some kind of charm.

It was frustrating to no end. At least the office was cooperating. Harry was going through some old bills in the desk when he heard the tinkle of bells from the front door.

"We're not open yet," he called, his tone irritated.

"Yeah, I knew that," a familiar drawl called back. Too familiar.

Harry got up and moved to the office door. He'd know that blond head anywhere.

"Draco?"

Draco turned from looking around the shop. "Hi, Harry," he said with a grin. "Did you know that I'm serving my apprenticeship just across the street?"

"Um, yeah, your father mentioned it," Harry replied. "I guess he told you my new shop was here."

"He said it was close," Draco admitted. "Hermione told me the address."

"Really," Harry said, crossing his arms. "Talk to Hermione a lot these days?"

"Er." Draco looked away, looking - well - embarrassed. "A bit."

Harry laughed - he had to. His bloody inner voice had been right. "When are you going to tell your father?"

Draco turned quickly to him. "What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"About you and Hermione?"

"There's nothing to tell," Draco said. "We're trying to help you, you idiot. Researching the curse - remember."

"Oh, right," Harry said with a knowing smile. "Sure, whatever you say."

Draco scowled. "All right, Potter," he dared, "when are you going to tell my father he has no chance with you because you're still in love with Severus?"

"Who say's I'm still in love with Severus?" Harry demanded with a frown.

"No one has to say anything. It's so obvious that-"

"Why don't we agree to stay out of each other's love life?" Harry snapped.

"I can't do that, Potter," Draco said with a sigh. "Harry - my father is obsessed. He wants you back. I've never seen him like this. He wanders about the house, looking lost." He began pacing. "Every time I go home all he can do is talk about you. I think - well that he really cares about you. And that's hard for me to say because he certainly didn't care about my mother."

Feeling slightly guilty, Harry attacked. "And what about you?" Harry returned. "Sneaking around with one of my best friends as if she was dirt! You won't even admit that you're with her."

And just why hasn't Hermione told you?

Harry would deal with that later.

"That's not it, at all," Malfoy said, getting defensive. "Look, I can't tell my father yet. I'm so bloody happy when I'm with her. I just don't know how he'll react."

"React to what?" Harry said with sneer. "Her being Muggle-born?"

"No," he shot back. "To me being happy when he's not."

They stared at each other, at an impasse.

Harry didn't want to discuss his feelings at all, especially since he couldn't even make sense out of them, and he particularly wouldn�t discuss them with Malfoy. So, he changed of subject. "So, why are you here, anyway?"

"I just wanted to see your new shop," he admitted. "Really. I had a break from the master and I decided to come calling."

"I suppose you have to report back to Hermione," Harry grumbled.

Draco grinned. "Well, you do know her."

Harry grinned back. "Yeah, I do."

"It's a bit provincial," Draco observed with another glance around the cluttered shop.

"That is not my fault. I've been trying to straighten it up, but it's resisting."

"It's resisting?"

Harry sighed and explained about the items rearranging themselves.

"So, why don't you call your curse-breaker trainer in to take a look?"

"I can't do that," Harry said indignantly.

"Why not? Not for nothing, Harry, but you are Harry Potter, the Man Who Defeated the Dark Lord," Draco pointed out. "If that's not worth a little help now and again, I don't know what is."

"I don't like to trade on my name, you know that."

"Yeah, but-" Draco stopped. "Oh. I guess you don't want it known that you have a shop here either. I guess it would get out, if you asked-"

"Actually Bill already knows about the shop," Harry said.

"Bill? Your trainer?"

"Yeah, Bill Weasley."

"Weasley?" Draco said incredulously. "You won't call a friend in to help, either?"

"Er."

"Bloody Merlin, Potter, that's just pathetic. Your trainer is practically part of your family and you don't want to ask for help?"

Actually, it is pathetic.

"Okay, okay. I get it. I'm an idiot. Severus used to-" Harry cut himself off. Damn, he didn't want to be one of those love-stuck sods that brought up their partner in casual conversation.

Not that he's your actual partner really. Not yet.

He moved to the hearth and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder. Tossing it in, he called, "Kipling Suite, Brown's Hotel, Mayfair, London."

Draco blinked. "Who's putting him up at Brown's?"

"Gringotts."

"Not bad," Draco said. "I didn't realize that Weasley had quite such a prestigious job."

When Bill allowed the Firecall through, Harry leaned into the flames. He told Bill what the trouble was and asked if he had some time to take a look. Bill considered it.

"Are there any objects cursed with Dark magic in the shop?"

"That's why I bought it."

Bill laughed. "All right, Harry. We'll do a practical lesson today then. Save you a trip down here later. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Bill. I appreciate it. The name's Davenport's Antiques."

When Bill came through the Floo, he took one look at Draco and scowled. "So this is my competition, is it?" he said.

Harry blinked, confused.

Draco laughed, shaking Bill's hand. "Actually, I apprentice across the street at St. Claire's. Just came by to say hello to Harry. He was almost my step-father."

"Oh, right. Malfoy." Bill nodded.

"And he's sort of dating Hermione," Harry put in.

Red eyebrows arched. "Really? Do I want to go there?"

"No," came from two directions.

Bill laughed. "Okay, so what's the problem here?"

The spells to identify the charm on the shop were more advanced than Harry's current studies, but Bill had Harry cast them anyway. Harry managed to do them without much trouble, which didn't seem to surprise Bill, or Draco.

Bill classified it as a Status Quo charm, which would insure that the shop would always break even and always remain the same. However, when Bill offered to remove it, Harry declined. He didn't think it would be right to break a family spell.

Even when Draco argued that the store would never make any money, Harry maintained that he didn't buy the shop to make money.

Afterward, Bill tested Harry by having him identify some of the Dark spells on several objects in the room. Harry thought he did pretty well. As Bill moved to leave, he laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and praised his work.

Harry watched Bill leave through the Floo to go back to his hotel and sighed. Pride and satisfaction settled over him.

"He was flirting with you."

Harry swung around. He'd forgotten that Draco had been there and had watched the whole thing.

"He was not," Harry said.

He wasn't?

Draco snorted as he too moved to leave. "Sure," he muttered, opening the door. The little tinkle sounded. "I'll see you around, Harry."

Harry watched Draco leave and sighed again. Why was his life so complicated? He warded the shop and Apparated home.

Once back in his flat panic began to set in. He had forgotten all about dinner with Sirius and Remus, and they were due to arrive in half an hour. He stared at the empty kitchen with dismay. What the bloody hell was he going to do?

Are you a wizard, or not?

Yes, Harry was a wizard. But he wasn't a miracle worker.

Harry sighed and did the only thing he could think of.

"DOBBY!"

******
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To Have and To Keep