Nothing In This World (BEING EDITED)

III.

Chapter III: It Rained on the Day we Sparked
Warning: Mild language

Continuing from the end of chapter two when Snape exited the Weasley-Malfoy's house.

Harry looked up as the skies darkened ominously, signaling an imminent downpour. He stood waiting impatiently outside, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt from the need to move when Severus finally opened the door and stalked out. The man gasped, walking back into the door. If he was in any pain, Harry wouldn't have known. They stare at each other for a while, Snape's eyes narrowing.

"Hi," he managed to say to his professor.

"Mr. Weasley-Malfoy." Snape gave a curt nod.

Harry nervously shifted from the balls of his feet, almost stumbling into the older man. Why was he all the sudden behaving like a fool? He's seen his professor many times before. This was no different.

"Hi."

Snape didn't say anything, his eyes narrowing at the young boy... no man in front of him. He couldn't help but feel like Lily was the one greeting him with the softness of Harry's voice. He really was his mother's son, but he had his father's unruly hair and hopefully not the man's ego as well.

As the first raindrops fell, a gentle pitter-patter on the windows made Harry smile softly. It was the first time it had rained that summer. He watched as the parched earth eagerly drank in the rain. The scent of petrichor filled the air, bringing back memories of his childhood and the summers spent playing in the rain.

"You've said that already, " Snape finally said coldly, never taking his eyes off the boy. "May I help you? Surely, standing out here in the rain can't be healthy for either one of us."

"Probably not, sir, but it was a little stuffy in the house."

"I must agree with you on that," said Snape. He didn't want to give the boy any ideas or make him think he was being nice.

Harry took a step back but never stopped looking at his professor. Since the end of his third year, he was beginning to see his professor in a different light. It was something others had never noticed before, and Harry didn't understand why he had taken a sudden liking to the older man. But here was Snape standing in front of him in all his glory, looking handsome. He still sported his usual scowl, but Harry wasn't convinced that Snape was like this all the time.

"Sorry, just trying to be friendly, sir."

"I don't need friends," Severus found himself saying. He didn't understand where the young man's kindness was coming from but knew he had meant what he said. He didn't need friends.

"I think you're wrong, sir," Harry said, hoping his professor wouldn't take offense to his words and his boldness. "Maybe you just haven't found that person yet. Everyone needs a friend, sir, we weren't born to be alone."

Snape fought back the urge not to scuff and involuntarily rolled his eyes. He remained where he was unbale to sort of his thoughta but eventually he said, "Maybe," He shifted uncomfortably when Harry started walking closer to him, those green eyes capturing him, drawing him in deeper in their depths. He was oddly nervous as he looked at the boy. With his hands behind him, he wiped the sweat off against his robes. "Maybe," he took a step back, his black eyes never leaving Harry's green ones. The boy was certainly captivating in the afternoon light, and it was so hard for him to look away. He almost reached out to Harry but caught himself. He narrowed his eyes again and took another step back. "What exactly are you doing, Mr. Weasley-Malfoy?"

"I dunno, but we could be friends," said Harry as he reached out and grabbed the man's arm. Shocked, the potions professor's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He stares in disbelief, unable to comprehend the boy's boldness. "Oddly enough, sir, I feel drawn to you. My magic is drawn to your magic as well. I know you feel it, too."