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Young At Heart	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15428 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am not making any money off of it. If I did , Snape would have gotten laid - often and repeatedly.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-Epilogue
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5

“For the love of Merlin woman, be silent,” Severus
groaned, clasping his hands over his ears instinctively as Harry
barreled down the stairs and just barely managed to levitate the
chest he was moving before it crashed into his house-guest's spine.

“Eh heh. I see you've met Mrs. Black,” Harry said,
lowering the trunk and pulling the curtains shut. “Sorry about
that,” he whispered once she fell silent. “She,
er...rather hates noise of any kind, you see...Well, she rather
doesn't like much of anything, actually.”

Severus wrinkled his nose and willed the ringing out of his ears.
'Sounds like she'd get on with my father then,' he thought
dryly before whispering back. “So you say, but if she screams
at me like that again, you're going to have a new doorway into your
neighbor's parlor.” It was all talk. Grimauld Place was in
muggle London. Severus hadn't done his damnedest to keep Harry out
of Azkaban only to be sent there himself.

Harry offered him a huge grin because he didn't dare laugh, lest the
screaming begin anew. “Right then,” he whispered.
“Bedrooms are up here. I'm not sure which one you want. That
one's my room,” he gestured to a door midway up the hall. “I
thought you might like Regulus's old room. It's very Slytherin and
all.”

Severus thought the whole house looked 'very Slytherin' but didn't
say so. “Anywhere is fine,” he answered. He was the one
intruding, after all. He still had a hard time believing that Harry
– by many strange twists of fate – had somehow come into
possession of the Black Family ancestral home. It didn't seem to
suit the Gryffindor's cheerful disposition, but it was a roof over
his head that had within it all the necessary amenities. What it
lacked in warmth he supposed it made up for in convenience. The
halls were dark and narrow, but he thought it was at least three
times the size of his childhood home in Spinner's End overall.

When Harry pushed open the door to Regulus Black's old room, Snape
understood why he said it was 'very Slytherin' – the entire
place was decked out in silver and green, but he thought it had a bit
of youthful abandon to it that Severus himself had never really felt.
'Perhaps it will wear off on me a bit.' There was even a
small window. It was half as wide and twice as tall as an ordinary
window, and the green draperies appeared stretched to match.

“Not all the rooms have windows,” Harry explained.
“Personally, I always feel a bit claustrophobic without one.”
He was pretty sure that had to do with living in a broom cupboard as
a child. Now he liked window seats and open spaces, hated locks. He
didn't think it counted as a phobia – he just liked having room
to move around now that he had the option.

“I suppose a window will be nice,” Severus answered.
He'd never given them much thought one way or another, really, but
he supposed if he had one he would look out it now and again.

“Right then, I'll let you get settled,” Harry said,
settling the trunk against the wall.

Severus pursed his lips a bit in thought. The chest of clothes Harry
had given him was already situated at the foot of the four-poster
bed. “I've been meaning to ask what's in the trunk,” he
stated.

“Oh!” Harry said as if it had slipped his mind to clarify
entirely. His green eyes widened comically and he shifted his weight
a bit. “Professor McGonagall sent it along. They're the
personal effects you left on campus. I imagine the clothes will be
too big for you now, but I'm sure there will be a lot of books and
things. She thought having your things might make you feel a bit
more at home here.”

“And since I am no longer a Professor, the room these were in
no doubt needs to be given to someone else,” Severus commented.
He wasn't bitter about it, but he saw no reason to tap dance around
the subject either. He shook his head a bit. “A professor.
It's so hard to imagine myself doing that sort of thing.” For
starters, he mostly hated people.

“Well, a lot of things happened, I guess,” Harry
answered. “We don't usually end up where we think we will.”

“Where did you think you would be now?” Severus asked
before he could stop himself. “Not babysitting your former
professor and preparing for an eighth year at Hogwarts, surely.”

Harry shrugged. “I suppose I imagined I'd be starting Auror
training, but frankly, I think I've had more than enough adventure at
this point. “The Auror prep curriculum is good for plenty of
different jobs though, so I'm sure I'll think of something to do with
my life when the time comes. Anyway, relax, settle in. If you need
places for bookshelves, put them wherever you like. There's plenty
of space in the drawing room. You can turn it into a lab, or
something. I know you like potions. No need to be shy, I mean.
Just make yourself at home.”

“You're being too generous,” Severus answered. How could
he just...take over entire portions of another person's house? It was
crazy.

But Harry just smiled at him. “I'm being exactly generous
enough, I think,” he answered, bringing his hands up
thoughtlessly to cup Snape's face between them. “I know you
don't remember, but you spent so much of your life looking after me.
Let me return the favor, okay?”

“I...” Severus stuttered, but nodded dumbly when the
hands fell away.

Harry blushed a little, realizing the gesture was too intimate –
the way he'd dragged his thumb over Snape's cheekbone and tucked a
strand of hair behind his ear. “Er. Right, so. Good then. I'm
going to run up to the muggle grocery on the corner, so I'll be back
in a bit. Settle in. Explore. Whatever you want. Make yourself
comfortable, you know? This is your home now, too.”

**

Once Harry had gone, Severus decided to sort out the trunk. Maybe
there would be something in there that would strike a chord, trigger
some memory. He felt terribly awkward with twenty years of
information in his head just floating about, but appearing to be
completely missing. The healers had told him those memories may
begin to come back a little bit at a time. He hadn't told Harry
because he didn't want the Gryffindor to fuss over it. Harry seemed
to be completely content for him to stay as he was. He didn't seem
to care if Severus ever remembered anything, but Severus felt
disjointed knowing about years he lived through only through the
brief summary Harry had given him early on. He wanted to remember.
It wasn't about the memories, per say. He just felt like having them
would help him feel more...complete.

He placed the robes he wouldn't fit into for many years into the
closet, but stopped on one particularly comfortable looking white
tunic. It was faded, but terribly soft, and he laid it out on the
bed. It would make for good pajamas. He liked the ones Harry had
gifted him well enough, but they were a bit too thick for the summer
months. The threadbare tunic would be much more comfortable.

Books – Harry was right, he had accumulated a small mountain of
books, which had been packed away shelves and all. There was a note
included from Headmistress McGonagall that informed him the Ministry
had agreed to 'turn a blind eye' on 'a bit' of underaged magic in his
case to assist with the unpacking process, but that he oughtn't
overdo it. That was a bit of a relief, really. He wasn't looking
forward to carrying them all about one stack of books at a time. It
would take him days to complete the task! He flicked his wand and
the two black bookcases slid into place on either side of Regulus'
desk. A flick of the wand here, a jab there, and soon both shelves
were organized by category and author, very neatly. He frowned a bit
though. The copy of 'Advanced Potion-Making' he'd pilfered from his
mother's cast-aways was missing. Perhaps it had been dropped in the
shuffle. He made a mental note to inquire about it later. 'Or
perhaps it was so old at this point that it crumbled to dust,' he
reminded himself. It had been in fairly poor condition when he found
it in the box of things his mother had lost interest in. She always
let him rummage through it for whatever he might have a use for
before disposing of the rest. He considered it 'letting him
rummage', but really it was just that she left the box carelessly
outside his bedroom door to be brought to the trash as it was one of
his chores and she simply couldn't be bothered with the task. If she
no longer had any interest in the items though, he didn't see why she
should care that a few of them found their way into his possession on
the way out. So it was that he'd acquired all of the oldest, most
faded texts on these shelves, but the one he valued the most was
notably missing. It vexed him.

He shook his head deciding the subject a stupid one to dwell on and
pulled out a box of odds and ends that had been left in the bottom of
the expanded trunk – a handful of quills and a few rolls of
parchment, a carefully packaged set of potion vials and numerous
ingredients that he checked the expiration dates of as he set them
out in rows on the top of the desk. He would have to find somewhere
cool to store them. 'Perhaps I can cast some cooling spells on
the lower drawers of the desk,' he mused. 'Harry did say I
should make myself at home...' He decided to go ahead and do
this while he was able to freely use magic for sake of settling in.
He knew that wouldn't last more than a day or so and he'd have to
return to doing things the muggle way until the new school term
started.

'Let's see, what else?' A
photograph of Lily. He smiled nostalgically, but the faded edges made
her appear just as far away as she'd inexplicably felt these past
weeks. He would always have the same affection for Lily, he was
certain, but it seemed too morbid to have a dead girl smiling at you
every day. He settled it carefully upside down on the desktop for now
until he could decide what to do with it. There wasn't much else –
a few bottles of headache potion, a salve for muscle pain... 'I
wouldn't even have been forty yet. Was I already arthritic? I
should take better care of myself this time around. Exercise, or
something.' ...and in the
bottom, a picture clipped from the newspaper. He pulled it out,
feeling the texture. He'd apparently cast a number of toughening and
durability spells upon it to see that it lasted. Why so important,
then? He looked down and found it was a picture of Harry. He'd
clipped only the picture out, even removing the caption but wrote
'1995' very precisely in the corner. The picture was the only thing
that was important. Why? He watched Harry blink owlishly at the
camera, looking rather adorably accosted and couldn't help a slight
smile. 'He looks cute.'
His eyes widened in surprise. 'Did I...fancy him? But I
was far too old for him! I wasn't a pervert, was I?'
The moment of panic passed quickly as he continued to look at the
newspaper-clipped photograph. “Well, I suppose as long as I
was only looking. He really is rather...”

He heard the doorknob turn and quickly shoved the picture into the
desk drawer and slammed it shut as if he'd been doing something
inappropriate. He bit his cheek as his finger was slammed into the
drawer.

“All good, Severus?” Harry asked, peeking his head into
the room.

“Y-yes, just fine,” Severus stumbled awkwardly, trying to
ignore the pain in his fingers as his heart fluttered a bit.

“Oh! You've made rather good progress,” Harry declared,
taking that as invitation to enter.

“I've been permitted to use a bit of magic to put things away,”
Severus answered.

“Everything in order, then?”

“My Advanced Potion-Making book is missing,” Severus
answered. “I suppose it got lost along the way somewhere.”

“Oh, ah, that...I sort of borrowed it a while ago,” Harry
shifted uncomfortably as he spoke.

“...and lost it?” Severus deduced from the fidgety
posture.

“It's a rather long story. I
may be able to get it back, but not until the school year starts, at
least.” 'It depends entirely on whether or not Ginny
is speaking to me, though...'
Harry thought. He really, really
had to clear that all up. He knew it, but knowing it and doing it
were turning out to be two very different things. He'd never been a
coward. He could face Voldemort and Basilisks and even Dobby the
House Elf when he was supposedly trying to help...but girls? At
eighteen, Harry thought the same thing of girls that he always had –
they were terrifying and unpredictable. Ginny had always been one of
the more reasonable of the lot, but she was still a girl, and
therefore had estrogen, and estrogen somehow made otherwise sane
people completely fucking crazy. Hermione was the only girl he had
ever been able to have a sane conversation with at 'that time of
month', and Harry was pretty sure that was because she'd once gone on
a rant about the entire subject in depth – and when he and Ron
were done cowering in fear – the entire thing just seemed so
ridiculous and the trio had ended up in a fit of giggles. Knowing
more about the female reproductive process than he felt any man had
any need or right to know, he figured, gave him the right to
determine that girls were just plain nuts. They earned that right
with ritual, monthly blood-lettings, but that didn't make him want to
talk to them any more. Not knowing when that time of month was for
any given female made it difficult to determine when the best time to
talk to them was. And
thus, his Ginny problem. He supposed he should just cave in and admit
that on this one particular subject, he was a bit of a coward.

Severus accepted the answer. It didn't seem like a night for long
stories, and besides, there were a number of perplexing expressions
racing across Harry's face that made him think it was probably best
not to ask and best not to know. He inclined his head a bit
inquisitively.

The subtle gesture made Harry snap out of it. “Er...so,
yeah...how about some dinner?”

TO
BE CONTINUED...
- 4
- 5
- 6
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Young At Heart