Chapter Text
Minerva read off the next line from the staff meeting agenda. “Sybil will not be returning from her sabbatical.” She scratched a line through the listed task before glancing around the table. “She’s decided to remain in Siberia.”
“Oh.” Severus clicked his tongue and banged his fist on the staff room table. “What an utter shame.”
“A true loss for us all,” Harry added from across the table. With a grin, he attempted, and failed, to grab Severus’ attention.
Minerva cleared her throat and continued, “We’ll need to look for a replacement.”
Severus leaned back in his chair, drumming each of his long fingers against the table. “Must we really though?”
“Severus.”
“Minerva.”
Filius clinked the edges of his teacup as he stirred in a cube of sugar. “Divination’s a useless subject.”
“Thank you, Filius. We agree entirely,” Severus said, nodding once in the man’s direction.
Harry pressed his lips together, pulled his hands into his lap, and picked at his thumbnail.
“Nevertheless,” Minerva laced her fingers together and placed them on the table, “the board will insist the subject be covered at Hogwarts.”
Severus rolled his eyes. “You cannot teach true divination.”
Harry listened as they discussed the merit of replacing Trelawney. Well, half listened. No one ever paid him any mind at staff meetings. Mostly the old guard passed opinions back and forth while the handful of newer staff members looked on. He made his own cup of tea, grabbed a couple of biscuits from the platter, and settled in.
This was only Harry’s second year on staff as the DADA professor. He’d got the job straight out of his Defense Mastery Program. The last bloke that held the Defense professorship made it three years without anything catastrophic happening. Thus, the general consensus was that the position was now curse-free. Severus hadn’t wanted it. He’d gone back to teaching Potions.
Aside from Minerva taking over as Headmistress (after Severus refused to even be considered), the rest of the staff was about the same as when Harry was a student. There was a new Transfiguration professor, Edmund Mead, but he was absolutely ancient and never said anything at all. Then, there was Cecily Brunswork, the new Muggle Studies professor and the only other staff member near as young and untried as Harry. He smiled at her down at the other end of the staff table as he took his first sip of tea. That, of course, Severus took notice of. The man’s eyes darted between the two of them. Harry braced for a sneer, but Severus only crossed his arms against his chest and looked back at Minerva.
Harry had left Severus alone after the war, and Severus had made no attempt to contact Harry. When Harry’d first started at Hogwarts, he was keen to make friends with his old professor. They’d been allies. They had history. If Severus did not want to make friends with Harry then perhaps, at the very least, they could be civil acquaintances.
Harry rallied himself up to the daunting task. Drummed up a few viable avenues of conversation. Even practiced saying ‘Severus’ in the mirror before his first staff meeting. He thought that act alone might rile the man up a bit and break the ice. But it was for naught. Being co-workers hadn’t mattered. The passage of years hadn’t mattered.
And, it wasn’t that Severus was rude, or even cold. He was nothing. He didn’t insult Harry. He didn’t go out of his way to avoid him. He just didn’t seem to care that Harry was there one way or another. And that was worse. After everything Harry now knew about the man— It was much, much worse. The indifference stung.
Severus placed an elbow on the table, fisted his hand, and laid his cheek to rest against it. With his other hand, he scribbled away on a piece of parchment. His face scrunched up in a way that made his nose seem smaller. There was a set of wrinkle lines that branched up from the bridge of his nose. Two perfect, little scowl lines.
“Mr. Potter.”
Harry jerked his head in the direction of the voice. Minerva. It’d been years since she called him ‘Mr. Potter’. She gave him a significant look. He’d missed something. He looked around the table and everyone looked back at him. Except Severus, naturally.
“Er, sorry,” Harry said. “Did you ask me something, Headmistress?”
“I asked you to chaperone the Muggle Studies camping trip at the end of the month.”
Harry’s mouth fell open, but no words came out.
Severus snorted and sat up straight.
“You as well.” Minerva turned towards Severus and Harry’s eyes went wide.
Severus responded with a simple, “No.”
“It wasn’t a request,” Minerva said. “To either of you.”
“It can’t possibly be my turn already.”
“The duty is not turn-based, Severus.”
“I’m unavailable.” Severus shook his head. “I have potions-”
“I checked with Poppy. She has no pressing needs.”
Severus turned, found the mediwitch a few seats down, and sent her a glare fierce enough to melt salt.
Minerva continued, “You and Harry are the youngest staff members, aside from Cecily. You are more equipped to handle the rigors of the trip.”
The annual Muggle Studies camping trip was a new tradition, aimed to encourage enrollment in the elective. Cecily had started it and it wasn’t the worst idea. All of the third years signed up for the class just so they could go camping somewhere in Cornwall for a week over the Easter hols.
They weren’t allowed to use magic at all while there.
No wands. No potions. No wizarding objects of any kind.
Just twenty 13-year-olds and a couple chaperones.
“Cecily, of course, will be there,” Minerva continued with a nod toward the Muggle Studies professor, “and Rolanda volunteered again.”
Rolanda smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it. Always a lovely change of pace, and the whole venture is invigorating.”
“So,” Minerva said. “We have two female chaperones and we needed two male ones. Severus, Harry, you boys are it. End of discussion.”
Harry met Severus’ eyes. Severus huffed, rolled his, and returned them to his parchment.
**********
“That doesn’t actually sound like any fun, mate,” Ron said.
“I know that.”
“That Cecily Brunswork girl is nice to look at, at least.” Ron scrubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. It made that scratchy sound Harry always liked, it being so quintessentially male and all. Ron smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. “Will you get to share a tent with her, one of those little Muggle ones?”
Harry scoffed. “Ron, there’ll be two dozen students with us.”
“So.” His shoulders lifted once and dropped again. The many trinkets pinned to his auror robes made a tinkling sound, one loud enough Harry could hear it even over the chatter and buzz of Rosmerta’s. “You’ve not dated anyone since Ginny, and that was a lifetime ago.”
“Yeah, not interested in having that conversation tonight. How’s work?”
“The usual nonsense. Robards has got his knickers in a twist about this case down in Sussex. An old family, you know, one that gives loads of money to Ministry foundations, they had their dog stolen, or so they say. I reckon it ran away. Tired of all the primping and preening. Plus, the lady carried the thing around with her in this bag. A bag. It was a posh bag, don’t get me wrong, but it was still a ruddy bag. Robards doesn’t want to hear it though, just wants the pampered dog found.”
Harry never for a moment envied Ron’s choice to join the MLE. Harry’s life at Hogwarts was peaceful and quiet. Simple. Things weren’t perfect. He was still finding his footing with the other professors. He was still establishing his reputation with students. He was still looking, looking, looking for stability and security, but he was the happiest he’d ever been. He was happy with the new life he’d created from the shards of the old one. He never looked back, only forward. He did what made him feel fulfilled and whole. He did what he wanted to do. No more, no less.
“Weasley!” Rolanda appeared, pulled back a chair, and thumped her mug down onto the table. “You here for the camp chaperone meeting too?”
Ron chuckled. “Never. Just catching a drink with Harry during the few spare minutes we get that line up. You been following the Cannons this season?”
“Course,” she replied and the two were off. Harry joined in here and there, until he caught sight of Cecily and Severus as they came through the door together. She was a cute girl, Harry supposed. Curvy and soft looking. She always smelled nice, like something sugar-y and light. Her skin was dark and smooth. Severus was the opposite of curvy and soft, of sugar and light. He was all long lines and sharp edges. He slid into the seat next to Harry, the only empty chair at the table, bringing with him the scent of sandalwood and mint. He settled back with his arms crossed, neither acknowledging Harry existed nor looking put out at having to sit next to him.
“Right, well, I’ll let you get on with things then.” Ron stood and tossed a few coins onto the table to pay for his drink. “Nice chatting with you, Hooch. Lovely to see you again Cecily. Snape. I’ll floo you later, Harry.”
Harry, Rolanda, and Cecily said their good-byes. Severus flicked his wrist in Ron’s direction.
Cecily tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and held up a stack of papers. “I brought trip agendas.”
“Nope.” Rolanda lifted a hand to both stop Cecily and to gain a waiter’s attention. “No business until I have some food in front of me.”
“Right, right. Of course.” Cecily tucked her skirt against the back of her thighs as she sat down in the chair Ron had just vacated. She tapped the agendas against the table into a neat, ordered pile.
Harry smiled. “I’d like to take a look at one.”
“Oh,” she said, perking up and handing one across to him. “There you are then.”
Harry thanked Cecily as Rosmerta herself appeared at the table. She propped one hand on the back of Severus’ chair. The two nodded a greeting at each other. Rosmerta gave Severus’ shoulder a quick squeeze and Harry’s fingers clenched against the parchment in his hand.
“What can I get for you lot?” Rosmerta asked, oblivious. “We got steak and kidney on special for the night. You want?”
“Sounds like just the ticket,” said Rolanda.
“All right. What about you, Potter?”
“Um.” Harry shook off the burst of emotion. Took a breath. Smiled up at Rosmerta and ordered. “Cottage pie.”
Cecily added, “The soup of the day is fine, and a butter beer, please.”
“Oh, yeah.” Harry jumped in. “Another butter beer would be great.”
Severus sighed, dramatically. “I’ll have the cottage pie as well. And a water, please.”
Harry grinned at the side of Severus’ head, about to comment on them being like-minded, but Rosmerta smirked down at Severus’ upturned face and winked. “Way to live dangerously, Severus.”
Severus swatted her away and Harry’s grin fell. It made sense Severus would be friendly with Rosmerta. He’d known her since he was eleven, or maybe longer. Maybe his mum had brought him here when he was younger than that. Harry didn’t know. He didn’t know Severus at all. Harry pulled his nearly empty mug closer, ran a finger through the condensation circling the bottom.
“First,” Cecily began, handing around the rest of the agendas. “I just want to thank you all for chaperoning. Harry, Severus, I know you weren’t especially keen, but the kids really do love this trip.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine,” Harry said. “I probably would have loved it too, as a student. Might even have taken Muggle Studies if the camping thing had been part of the course back in the day.”
“Ugh.” Severus’ lip curled. “Only to have Albus compel me to go. What an awful thought.”
“Is that somehow different from the present day?” Rolanda asked, grinning. “When Minerva compels your participation instead?”
“My life is an endless parade of hardships and burdens, Hooch.”
Rolanda guffawed and Cecily chuckled nervously. Harry, having been one of those burdens, didn’t know how to respond. He instead looked down at the itinerary Cecily had given him. The dates were written across the top. Under that there was a packing list. Then, a list of tent assignments. Oh no…
“What the bloody hell is this?” Severus waved his copy of the schedule around. “Why does this say I’m sharing a tent with Potter?”
“Suck it up, Snape,” Rolanda said, watching the descent of her dinner plate to the table. “We’ve limited tents available. Everyone has to bunk up.”
“It won’t be a picnic for me either, you know,” Harry said. He’d be sharing a tent with Severus. Severus Snape. One of those cozy, little Muggle ones Ron had been excited about Harry squishing into with Cecily. He’d be squishing himself up against Severus Snape instead. Harry’s cheeks burned. “I mean, you probably snore.”
Severus’ dark eyes bored into Harry’s. “I do not snore.”
Harry twitched under the attention, caught in Severus’ heated gaze. Harry swallowed it down and said, “With that nose?”
“Shut up, Potter.” Severus tossed the paper into the center of the table. He picked up his fork and pointed the tines at Cecily. “I want my displeasure noted.”
“Oh,” Cecily glanced from Harry to Severus. “Alright, um, noted.”
“Ignore him, Cee,” Rolanda said. “Severus is all piss and vinegar, but he gets the job done at the end of the day. So does Potter, and he’s not a shiny sunbeam of light and cheer either.”
Harry’s brow wrinkled. “Oi, uncalled for.”
They all tucked into their meals while the food was still hot. The mashed potatoes on his cottage pie had just the right amount of lumpiness, and the little onions and peas burst against his palate. The carrots were just this side of sweet and the gravy was thick and savory and it all hit Harry in the exact right way, making him moan his appreciation.
Severus’ fork clattered against his plate. He turned a glare on Harry.
“What?” Harry asked around his mouthful of food.
“Eat quietly.”
Harry straightened his spine. He scooped up another bite of food and shoveled it in, scraping the tines of the fork against his teeth as he withdrew it. He groaned even louder. Leaning into Severus’ space, Harry said, “Mmmmm. So good.”
Severus pressed his lips into a firm line. He pushed away from the table and stomped off in the direction of the loos. Harry’s eyes followed Severus’ retreat. The black robes disappeared around the corner and Harry’s shoulders slumped. This was the exact sort of childish behavior Harry’d wanted to show he’d matured past.
Harry swirled his fork through a puddle of gravy. He traced his fingers over the words on his printed itinerary. Hiking, Campfires, Bird-Watching. Harry hatched a plan. This week of camping, in forced proximity, was Harry’s chance. He would prove he deserved a bit of Severus’ regard. By the end of the week, Severus would see that Harry Potter was worth knowing.