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The Hart Flies Fast	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 8668 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Hart Flies Fast
- 2-Chapter 2
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- 2
Title: The Hart Flies Fast
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit
Pairings: Harry/Snape
Warnings: Present tense, brief angst, AU (in that Severus is alive)
Rating: R
Summary: If Harry Potter is going to be his reward, Severus knows he must seduce him. But perhaps Potter doesn't want to run so far.
Author’s Notes: An Advent fic for arynwy, who asked for a fic about Severus deciding he deserved a reward and it being Harry. The “Hart” in the title is a male deer in his prime. The second part of this will be posted tomorrow.
The Hart Flies Fast
            Severus decides it not long after the war. That he deserves a reward. That he hasn’t served and struggled and made sacrifices in a cause that should never have been his own this long for nothing. That the world owes him something, but the world won’t grant it to him, so he will have to take it.
            He knows that. He is prepared to wait for some time until the perfect reward reveals itself to him, and then concentrate all his newly freed energies on the pursuit of it.
            But it is not until the memorial celebration a year after the war that he makes his choice. Or has it made for him.
*
            The memorial celebration is held on the Hogwarts grounds, of course, outside Albus's tomb. Severus pauses when he passes it, but then he turns and walks on. He has many things to say to the dead man who resides there, but he cannot say any of them with an audience.
            Minerva has apparently decided that the ideal form of a memorial celebration is to light enormous bonfires all across the ground and have them linked by stone pathways, Transfigured from the grass. Around one bonfire are tables of delicate sweets, prepared by the house-elves of the castle, around another drinks, around another moving images that recreate scenes from the Battle of Hogwarts, and so on. Severus pauses to appreciate Fenrir Greyback being brained by a crystal ball, and someone moves behind him.
            Severus turns around, one careful hand on his wand. Although the Ministry has declared him innocent thanks to a careful combination of interviews with Albus's portrait, Pensieve memories, Veritaserum, and blackmail, not everyone believes it, or is inclined to abide by it.
            But the man behind him does.
            Severus receives a whirling impression of darkness, of black hair swaying atop a head that is taller than it has any right to be, and blazing green eyes that make his chest ache in ways that it has no right to do. The green-eyed man thrusts a crystal ball into his hand, and Severus stares at it. There's a name floating in twisting, sparkling letters inside it, but he can't immediately make it out.
            "It's my name," says Harry Potter, his voice not slurred with drunkenness as Severus assumed it would be--or would have assumed, if he thought about it at all--before the boy dared approach him. "They're distributing them all over the grounds. I asked McGonagall if she could stop them, and she said of course not. Will you shatter it or something? Then at least there'll be one less of the damn things."
            Severus looks up again, a bit conflicted. On the one hand, he agrees the crystal ball is an abomination that deserves shattering. On the other hand, he was not made to agree with Potters.
            But this Potter is different than Severus has ever seen. He is wearing dark robes that don't bear the mark of any particular group, although Severus thought for certain the boy had gone into Auror training. The robes blend well into the shadows of the dancing bonfires, and seem to provide a contrast that makes his green eyes shine like emeralds on the velvet of a jewelbox.
            Surely it must be the contrast that makes them shine so, and nothing else? Severus is not certain, but he knows they still make his breath catch.
            "What are you doing?" he demands sternly, and hands the crystal ball back. "I notice that you are still not giving the Headmistress the courtesy of a title--"
            "Oh, she told me I could call her McGonagall," says Potter, with a rude shrug, and turns the ball around in his hands. "Having to be called Headmistress all the time turns her head, she says. Sure you don't want the chance?"
            Severus sneers, although he's aware, if Potter is not, that it lacks the force it should have. Nothing is as it should be tonight. "I am not obsessed with the chance to either save or destroy any item with your name on it, Potter."
            "Pity, the way some people are," Potter says sadly, and then casts the crystal globe up into the air and draws his wand.
            The spell he uses is nonverbal, and performed with such a powerful flourish of his arm that Severus cannot tell what the wand movement is. The crystal globe explodes from the inside, the fiery letters of Potter's name catching real fire and burning out in a brilliant white flare. Each shard has its attendant flame, which burns it up before it hits the ground or endangers anyone. That doesn't prevent some people from crying out in surprise.
            "Are you mad, Potter?" Severus asks, lowering his voice. "Has the war utterly diminished your care for others' lives, instead of increasing it?"
            He really did assume it would have the opposite effect. But on the other hand, he also thought Potter would go into the Aurors. Perhaps he should stop assuming things until he has some idea of the consequences of his assumptions.
            Perhaps he should look away before his stomach can swoop and rise, the way it's doing now as Potter winks at him.
            "Not mad," Potter says. "In fact, there are some lives I have a greater care for than ever before." He plucks at the dark robes. "These are based on your robes, Snape, did you know? I find them easy to use when I want to hide in the shadows."
            "You want to hide in the shadows, and yet you came here," says Severus. He would like to look pointedly at the remains of the destroyed globe, but there aren't any.
            "Oh, I'm here as a personal favor for some friends," Potter says, and shrugs. "But when they want me to make a speech, they're going to find me missing." Abruptly, he straightens up and turns around, his wand whipping out from him. Severus doesn't know this spell, either, which erupts from him in a straight line and creates a silver net, snaring around some portion of the darkness and dragging it closer.
            Severus rolls his eyes. "Who is this? Some worshipper of yours who was not sufficiently penitent?"
            "Nope," Potter says, which makes Severus's fingers itch to correct his language. "Someone who has a knife and was creeping up behind you to stab you in the back. Or maybe he was just going to scratch your arm and go his way. I wouldn't know. I'm more into spells than potions." He grins and steps back.
            Severus stares down in silent shock at a thin, moustached face he knows--of course he knows it. This is Ernest Burr, who tried to pretend a few months ago that he had done the majority of the research for one of Severus's newly-discovered potions. Severus had flayed him alive with a widely-quoted-among-brewers letter and thought no more about it.
            And he does have a dagger in one hand, the edge shimmering in a sickly way with a dark poison.
            "Now he's not a problem," Potter says, and bows his head, and starts away.
            "Wait!" Severus cries after him involuntarily, and Potter turns around. Severus steps near and lowers his voice so Burr cannot hear. "Are you the Vigilante?"
            Stories of this individual (or group, as Severus always thought) started circulating after the war. Most of the captured Death Eaters haven't fallen to the Aurors. They've ended up in silver nets in the Auror offices, or trussed in the Atrium, dazed and unable to remember what had happened to them. Severus had strengthened his wards when he first heard. Someone who hunted Death Eaters might also come after him, pardon or not.
            Potter grins and nods. "Yes. I decided the Aurors had too many rules for me. And I also discovered last year that I had a bit of a taste for adventure." He shrugs. "Nice seeing you again, Snape."
            And he disappears into the night while Severus stands there staring after him, celebration and captive alike forgotten until Burr begins to blubber.
            That is the night Severus decides what his reward will be.
*
            It is, in so many ways, the easy choice, the simple one. Who else alive has enough prestige to satisfy Severus's desire for someone worthy of him? Because he wants others to acknowledge that his chosen reward is worthy, not only himself.
            Who else possesses a certain level of understanding of Severus and his past, even if that understanding must perhaps be changed perforce?
            Who else has Lily's eyes?
            But it does not matter if the choice is simple, if it is also the right one.
            Severus begins to plan, but he finds it is not simple to catch up to Potter. There is a reason the Vigilante has remained free and beyond the reach of even the Ministry's most careful Aurors. Severus studies the rumors and tracks of his obsession as well as the times and places Potter tends to show up, and finally decides the best place to wait will be the large party Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are holding in honor of their wedding.
            He has not been invited, but that does not matter. Polyjuice is a wonderful thing.
*
            The fifth time that someone calls Severus "Auntie Muriel," he begins to wonder if Polyjuice is indeed such a wonderful thing.
            But he returns as snide an answer as his target would, from his observation of her, and goes back to scanning the party in front of him. The grounds of the Burrow are surging with Weasleys, but nothing in the world could hide those green eyes and that skill with spells from him, he's certain.
            It does take longer to find Potter this time than it did at the memorial celebration. Severus gets jostled by shrieking ginger children, drunk redheads who want to settle some old score with the auntie they think he is, people trying to slap everyone in sight on the back on general principles, and adolescents who think every piece of flat ground is a dance floor. By the time he comes to rest against the side of the Burrow itself, Severus is panting with soft ire.
            Then everything is worth it, or falls away from him and seems worth it, because a pair of green eyes winks at him and Potter drawls, "Interesting disguise, but Auntie Muriel would have snapped at me twice by now."
            Severus turns, and does not even think to ask himself how Potter managed to spot him through the Polyjuice. It truly, truly does not matter, not when Potter is clad in ordinary green dress robes, and toasting him with a huge goblet of pumpkin juice. He doesn't look at all like the dangerous Vigilante now. For a moment, Severus wonders what he saw in him, and prepares to be disappointed, just like so many people have disappointed him before.
            But Potter looks straight at him, and the cool, dangerous gaze makes Severus catch his breath. And he reminds himself that someone who can see through one of his Polyjuice disguises--more, do that and know that it is Severus and not someone else--is a force to be reckoned with.
            Especially in terms of attraction.
            "Do you know why I am here?" Severus asks, lowering his voice for emphasis the way he did the night of the memorial celebration.
            Potter considers that, then says, "No," and tosses back most of his drink. "Want some Firewhisky?" he asks, turning and signaling one of the floating trays that dart about the mess and respond to specific hand signals. Severus knew them the moment he saw them for Granger's spellwork, since her moronic spouse, along with the family she's marrying into, would never come up with anything half so clever.
            "I am here because I could not stay away," Severus says, and he pitches his voice to sound as mysterious and alluring as he can when he is in the body of a Weasley relative.
            Potter blinks at him, takes a glass from the tray that has drifted up to him, and then turns and faces Severus directly. Severus blinks, and takes the drink Potter hands to him even though he doesn't want it. It's like being looked at by a beast out of distant, dangerous dreams, to have the full regard of those eyes turned on him.
            He likes it. Of course he likes it. He wouldn't be chasing Potter if he didn't like it.
            "You couldn't stay away from Ron and Hermione's wedding," Potter repeats. He sounds as if he's turning the words over and looking for some mystic meaning in them, or at least a Potions recipe.
            Severus rolls his eyes. "No. I could not stay away from you."
            Potter only looks at him with more baffled eyes. And then he nods. "Oh, right. You had some debt that you wanted to pay back?"
            "I was the one who saved myself," says Severus flatly, appalled that Potter apparently believes the lies spread by Rita Skeeter's damnable new book, which insists Potter came back in order to rescue Severus from Nagini's venom. "Not you. As a result of my foresight in creating an antivenin against the Dark Lord's snake."
            "I wasn't referring to that," says Potter, and props his chin on his fist. "I was talking about the vengeance you probably feel you owe me. For being my father's son or looking into your Pensieve or something."
            Severus takes a long step closer. Well, at least he wants to. He gets rather confined by Aunt Muriel's skirt, and Potter has to lean forwards and help him disentangle himself.
            Potter's hands are swift and sure, and his eyes alight with laughter. He is so close, and Severus decides he cannot help himself, which means that he need not be responsible for most of what he does, either. He puts his hands on Potter's and arrests their swift motion, holding them trapped.
            Potter looks at him with kindling eyes. "I know I owe you a lot," he whispers. "But I'm not going to stand still and let you take something out of my hide that should have been taken out of my dad's, either."
            "I do not mean that," Severus whispers right back. This moment can't feel more intense or intimate than it does right now, with Potter's gaze holding his and the charged air between them almost vibrating. "I mean that I decided I would have a reward for myself after the war. Whatever I wanted. But I could find nothing I wanted."
            Potter's eyes widen. At least he is not fool enough--or simply stupid enough--to pretend to misunderstand Severus now. "Until--you want me," he breathes, and leaves it at that for a second. Severus can feel his hands tremble, and he is well-pleased.
            "Yes," Severus says, and he doesn't care who's looking at them now, wondering at Potter's strange flirtation with Auntie Muriel (or perhaps the other way around). He knows his smile is pure himself now, and Potter's gaze has already seen through the Polyjuice. He will have seen and marked what he needs to.
            Potter nods slightly. Now that he's past the first moment of surprise, he's feeling something else. His hands no longer tremble, but they do firm, and Severus finds it no easy matter to keep them imprisoned within his own when Potter abruptly stands and tries to take a step backwards.
            "I do intend to have you," Severus whispers. Of course he will try to manage matters so that Potter yields willingly, because the alternative would be comfortable for neither of them. Severus does not want people banging on his door telling him that he raped the Boy-Who-Lived. But he does not intend to give up the chase.
            Potter winks at him. "And I never said you couldn't. But you have to catch me first."
            And he abruptly snaps something out of his sleeve, something long and coiling and as silver as the nets that he uses to wrap up the criminals he captures. It lashes the ground beside Severus's feet, and smoke springs up and writhes all around them. Someone cries out in alarm, and Severus hears others shouting the incantations for water spells.
            He pays no attention to the water that soaks him, although he knows Auntie Muriel would. His eyes seek out Potter instead. He knows he has not gone far; he will be somewhere nearby, waiting for Severus to notice him.
            There. Potter stands on the roof of the small arbor that Weasley and Granger had constructed to say their vows in, clinging with hands and feet among the pine branches that cover it. He meets Severus's gaze and inclines his head once, a smile flashing across his lips. Then he turns again, and is gone, Apparating in the middle of a leap that should have carried him off the arbor and to the ground.
            Severus closes his eyes and makes the expected crisp response to the Weasleys asking if their "relative" is okay. He is smiling inwardly.
            Let the hunt begin, then.
*
            Severus has assumed that Potter will be more circumspect now he knows Severus is on his trail. After all, he has a more determined hunter than the Aurors after him, and one better at putting together the clues with his nature. None of the Aurors know that the Vigilante is Potter; none of them have the advantage that Severus does.
            But it does not happen.
            Instead, reports of the Vigilante's efforts increase. He appears in the middle of Diagon Alley and saves a child who was about to be dragged off by enemies of his family. He leaps from roof to roof of a burning building and brings out not only the wizards inside out unharmed, but also their Crup. He duels to a standstill a mysterious intruder who breaks into the Ministry and tries to explode a poisonous plant pod.
            His most spectacular effort, though, is undoubtedly to round up all the seven remaining free Death Eaters, led by Avery, and drop them wrapped in the middle of an enormous silver net right in the middle of the Ministry Atrium just as the workers are Flooing in for the day. Severus holds the photograph back from his face and squints.
            Yes.
            The strands of silver netting that trail out from the sides of the bundle all spell a stylized S.
            Severus smiles. It will be a joy to mark the next place of the hunt, his first ambush, which he also intends shall be his last.
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The Hart Flies Fast