The Boy Who Lived A Bit [Snarry]

Chapter Three

Dumbledore stabbed a buttered baby carrot onto his fork and held it aloft triumphantly. 'Amazing vegetable, the carrot,' he announced to his fellow diners.

Lupin and Harry exchanged a smile,waiting to hear what the Headmaster would enlighten them with next. Snape squashed his minted peas into green splodges on his plate before hiding them under his mashed potatoes.

'Did you know, Harry,' Dumbledore asked, 'that the Welsh Gaelic word for carrot is moron?' Harry and Lupin laughed with Dumbledore at this piece of silly trivia.

Snape sighed dramatically and reached for his wine goblet. 'And me with just one remaining Weasley in class with which to share this linguistic gem.'

'Are you feeling better now, Severus?' Dumbledore enquired, as if he hadn't just been talking about carrots. 'I was told when I arrived that you weren't feeling too well this afternoon?'

Snape's expression betrayed nothing. 'I am fine, Headmaster. Thank-you for asking.'

'Of course you are, my dear boy, but I insist that you take tomorrow off, in any case. Your classes will be covered.' The blue eyes twinkled as Snape tried to protest. 'We'll see you back at work on Tuesday.' Dumbledore peered over the tops of his half-moon glasses, bestowing a look of great love upon the scowling Snape. 'Excellent work yesterday in Surrey, by the way. I sincerely apologise for your back-up not arriving sooner. It won't happen again, Severus, I promise you.'

Harry swallowed a mouthful of morons and looked sideways at Snape. Yesterday? At Privet Drive? Had Snape had to... He turned his head and looked properly at the glowering man at the end of the dining table. Had Snape had to deal with the Death Eaters that killed Uncle Vernon? On his own? Harry felt the rate of his pulse step up a notch or two. The man he had kissed earlier today was brave. Brave and brilliant and smart and looked danger right in the eye and was a war hero and had the sexiest voice in the world and had sinful hands and a sharp wit and had sucked on Harry's tongue and made him moan and made him stiff and oh god, Harry wanted to do that again with him!

He'd thought about it a few times over the last few years. Kissing a bloke, that is. It wasn't that he thought he was gay or anything, it was just... maybe it was best just to find out? He'd never been able to work up the nerve before though. And what a person to finally work up the nerve WITH! Harry looked back down at his food and felt thankful for the linen napkin covering his lap. None of the girls he'd ever snogged had had this effect on him. If Snape – Snape! – could have this sort of effect on his body, well then, maybe he did like blokes? Or maybe he liked both, like Fred and George did? Or maybe, and here was an unsettling thought, maybe it was just Snape? God, what if he was Snapesexual? Harry coughed uncomfortably and reached for his goblet. The wine, with a dash of soda water in it for him, took the tickle away and soothed his throat.

'Alright there, Harry?' asked Lupin.

Harry nodded and returned to his eating, trying his best to ignore the eyebrow that he knew was quirked perfectly in his direction.

* * *

Dinner seemed to take forever. Dessert had never dragged so badly. Dumbledore had never taken so long to make his goodbyes and disappear into the floo. Lupin, as much as Harry loved him, had never wanted to loiter so long in the livingroom, wanting to chat with Harry and Snape until well after midnight. After about the sixtieth or seventieth time that Harry had stolen a look at the clock or his watch, he'd started to wonder why Snape was still up, too. Did he realise Harry was waiting to talk to him alone? Did he perhaps want to talk with Harry as well? Maybe it was just coincidence...