Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Making Happy	By : neelix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 5457 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this story that are from the Harry Potter books. I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Epilogue
- 2
- 3
- 4
3. Where They Remember, and Something Serious Happens

“What is past is prologue.”

~ William Shakespeare~

Hermione

Walking through Hogsmeade in the early evening used to be one of my most favourite things to do. Tonight it feels cold, but that summer… God, was it really so long ago? Anyway, that summer it was always balmy. It was as if the weather had joined everyone in the celebrations at the end of the war and was reluctant to leave the party. Even here, people were walking around in vest tops, most of them with sunburnt shoulders.

I pull my coat tightly around me and start to walk faster. The lights in the Three Broomsticks are like a beacon in the dark, and I feel an unfamiliar fluttering in my tummy. Lost in thought, I reach the door in surprise and pause to take a breath. My heart is starting to beat a little faster, but I ignore it to push the door open. I’m instantly engulfed by noise and warmth and aromas that assault my senses, forcing hidden memories to the fore.

I don’t want to head to the bar straight away, so I find the nearest empty booth and slip into it. I can feel the heat from the open fire and I know from experience it will get stifling before long, so I slip off my coat and scarf before casting my gaze around. I can see her now, standing with her hands on her hips as she engages yet another leering customer in banter. I know the game well, she taught me herself. She stops in mid-sentence and turns to look over her shoulder. Our eyes meet, and she smiles slowly. Immediately she breaks off her conversation with the serving of beer and a swift goodbye, tucking the galleons into her apron pocket as she walks towards me.

‘Well, here’s a surprise,’ she says warmly, sliding into the seat opposite.

‘I fancied some company,’ I say. She takes my hand across the table, and I let her.

‘Told you it wouldn’t be easy, didn’t I?’ Her face is kind, warm and understanding. The weight of the past few months comes crashing around me, and I feel the tears sliding down my face as I nod in agreement.

‘Floo him and let him know you’re staying tonight,’ she suggests. My eyes widen and the words get stuck in my throat, and she laughs. The sound is familiar and welcome and I realise how much I’ve missed it.

‘Don’t be silly, girl. We’ll just talk, if you like,’ she says, but I hear the question in her voice. I think for a moment, then remember that Happy is with Ron and Luna tonight and there is no real reason to rush back. I nod, and our eyes meet again.

I know we won’t be just talking as I walk to the Floo.

***

Severus

The house feels too quiet tonight. It’s a long time since I’ve been here on my own, and I hadn’t realised how accustomed I had become to the sound of females in my living space. They seem to have gradually crawled under my skin, and I want to scratch the place where they’re absent. Not that I mind. God knows I had plenty years of that at Hogwarts to get used to my own company.

I’ll have another Firewhisky. Why not?

Perhaps I should go out too. I don’t blame Hermione for staying in Hogsmeade. I have been bloody miserable company lately. Let’s be honest, I’ve just been bloody miserable. For so long I have been content with the status quo. Home teaching suits me, and I still have plenty of free time to brew and tend the herb garden. I have time to read, and occasionally listen to music. I can still hear Hermione’s laugh when she discovered the stack of old vinyl in the attic. She was still laughing later, after we dusted an L.P. off and let the sounds of The Kinks reverberate loudly around the house. We got rat arsed that night, and I think she even convinced me to dance. Unbelievable, the changes she has brought to my life. I hate to admit it to myself, and I wonder sometimes how we found ourselves here, but she is my best friend. I think I have done her a disservice, binding her to me through Happy. It seemed the perfect solution, at the time.

But where do we go from here? I can’t expect her to live a celibate life, and I’m not sure I want that for myself either. I have thought about Harry more and more in the last few months, and I can no longer hide from myself. I regret everything. Hermione was right.

Fuck, I’m turning into a maudlin old bugger. Pub it is.

***

Harry

I grab the clipboard and take a slow walk up the ward. We have five patients in at the moment and three empty beds. Although the ward is small, it’s busy and challenging and although it’s taken me months to admit it to myself, I love it. Our patients tend to be here as the result of an accident, and they’re almost always under the age of eleven. Poppy Pomfrey tends to cover the bases after that. This makes for a lot of laughter on the ward, and some tears, but there is very little we can’t treat here. Magic can quite literally work miracles.

I approach the fourth bed and hear the familiar sound of Miranda Abbot singing to the young girl tucked up in the bed. She’s recovering from a potions poisoning. God knows what she took, but the purple boils on her face are fading slowly. The lecture I gave to the parents was particularly satisfying. Being the Boy-Who-Lived has its uses, because the parents recognise me instantly but the children don’t.

I’m just about to walk back to the Medi-witch station in the middle of the ward when Marcus Hedley runs into the ward. It looks like we have a new patient.

‘Tell me,’ I say, walking quickly with him to the treatment room at the entrance to the ward.

‘Girl, aged six. She fell off a broom, apparently. Must have been from some height, I’ve counted three fractures to her arm and a broken leg, but she hit her head too.’

I nod in understanding and wonder briefly why the hell a child of that age was allowed to ride on a broom in the first place.

‘Are the parents with her?’ I can’t wait to hear their excuses. My unwritten rule is that parents should protect their children at all costs. Mine did.

‘No. She was having a sleep over with friends. They brought her in.’

‘The child’s name?’ I grab my quill, ready to start yet another new record.

‘Harriet Granger-Snape.’

Fuck.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Making Happy