La mia Stella (part 1/1)

Tu sei una stella...la mia stella!

In a way, this was his favourite part of the day, he thought to himself, as he found a spot in the shadows under one of the great arches.
It had been a long day, and a few too many sights to be seen, but it had been a good day. The red wine at Piazza Navona had been outstanding, and his company had once again impressed him with his skills in ancient history.
The sun was low, and casting long, shadows over the buildings, and the light that hit the marble, was in a beautiful deep red shade. He wasn't sure how to describe how it felt to be there. Especially not with him. But he knew he didn't have to find words. He didn't have to find any words. He never did.

Harry leaned in, and put his arm around his waist. His voice seemed even more sensual than it usually did, when it was speaking fluent Italian, and as he whispered in his ear, a tingling feeling found it's way all the way through his body.
"Do you know what a beautiful name this arch has?" Harry asked.
Ofcourse he didn't. He didn't know anything about ancient roman history. He had decided he wanted Harry to teach him. After all, he should be the one to know this after having studied it for over a year.
"No, I don't...tell me" he answered.
Harry smiled, and pointed at the beatuiful pattern in the arch wall.
"This is the Severus-arch" he whispered softly.

It's hard to describe that feeling, even to yourself, but it feels nice, that someone care so much for someone, after that second someone being a total arse to that first someone for so many years.

And it hadn't been like that for too long either. They had started this journey, only seven months ago, right after Harry had graduated his studies.

…oooOOOooo…

He had started out his "Muggle History Trough The Ages"-studies two years ago. For some insane reason, he had to do them to get his degree as an departement Auror. A job noone would ever tell what really was all about, and yet whoever decided they wanted in, had to study some pretty unbelieveable subjects. After graduation, Harry had, however, decided he didn't want the departement-job anyway.
Minerva, who had gotten the head-position after Dumbledore died and Professor Snape werent able to stay, had offered him the DADA-position, two weeks after his graduation. He had met with her in the headmistress' office, and offered her a bargain. She was to ask Snape if he wanted it first, and Harry even offered to do part of potions-teaching, if Snape wanted the deal in.
Snape had ofcourse blown of the whole thing, with a typical grunt, and Harry had started his teachings in DADA. A job he found himself enjoying, from the first moment.

He had moved into the rooms behind his new office. It was a simple space. Bedroom, a cosy livingroom with the obligatory fireplace, and two deep armchairs, and a huge bathroom with a deep tub for cold evenings. He loved every part of it.

Severus had growled at the offering from Potter, delivered from Minerva. He didn't want any pity from the headmistress, even less from Potter. A few days after all of Potter's stuff had been located floating in towards the DADA-office, a note had appeared at his door. A note from Potter.

It said a few simple lines:

The offer is still here if you change your mind.
Please drop by anyway.

H.Potter

Severus grunted again, tore the note down, and stuffed it in his pocket. He emerged to his dungeons, made himself a nice cup of tea, and grabbed the nearest book.
It was an atlas. An muggle atlas. It had been his since he was a boy, and had been the only thing he had brought with him to Hogwarts. A treasure.
Beeing a scared boy, only eleven years old, it had been his only safe place. Traveling in his mind had given him many adventures.
Severus opened the book at a random page, and traveled trough the country it pictured. It was Italy. A beautiful country far away from every thougt, and corner of his mind. Far from people that would never care for him, and from pity-offerings from Ha.....that damned Potter! He missed Albus, and the thougt of him beeing gone forever, was tough. Even for a Snape. Even for the hard faced man, that was faired amongst the children of Hogwarts, it was hard to admit that it hurt. His eyes filled with tears, and he forced his mind back to the book.
In his mind Italy was beautiful, warm, and inviting. He saw big, stone-buildings, marble stairs and arches. He had been there before. Traveling there in his mind, and once, Albus had lent him a book with pictures of Rome.
He had dreamed of taking Lily there, and planned it to detail. All of a sudden James had appeared, and he was no longer good enough.
He walked streets of marble....long streets....beautiful buildings....beautiful people...

There was a firm knock on his door. Then another one. His first thought was that Potter had decided he had waited long enough. That brat.
It was Minerva. She wanted to know wether or not he had made more of his quickchange-potion, as she needed some for her trip to Paris next week. Changing between cat and human took a bit too long, when it came to far distances, and Severus had made a potion that coud make the change in only milliseconds. It was unbelieveably handy.
He had it all ready, and in addition he had made her a linguatix maximus-potion. A neat thing that let you adopt any language of the country you were travelling. It was unbelieveable practical on cross-continent travels.
Minerva thanked him, and reminded him that Potter wanted to speak to him. At the moment he was off at quidditch-practice with the Cannons, but he would be back in time for supper, she informed him softly.
He nodded. Hoping sincere that she would believe he intended to go see him when he returned.

…oooOOOooo…

Harry got back early. Dinner was just over, and he ran into a crowd of houseelves on his way to his office. They supplied him with various snacks and foods to survive until supper, and he made a run for it, up the last couple of stairs to his rooms. It had been a good practice, and he longed for a nice, long, hot shower. Hourlong. At least!
On his way down the corridor to his office, he heard the sound of someone knocking on wood. He rounded a corner, and faced Snape. His eyes were different in some way. He looked tired. Thoughtful.
Harry greeted him with a smile, and invited him in, as the wood he had been nocking on appeared to be Harry's door. Snape seemed somewhat surprised, and although he didn't seem to be able to smile, he looked like he longed to.
Door closed behind them, Harry called for tea and bisquits, and offered Snape a seat, in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. He lit it after a glance at Snape, noticing he seemed ok with beeing there. At least he didn’t look like he wanted to run.
Then he sat down, facing his co-worker and asked why. Why he didn't want the job he had longed for for at least the past thirteen years, why he didn't seem to care for anyone anymore, and how on earth he could just let Harry's sincere offer pass as it was air. As it didn’t matter at all. When he knew it did.

…oooOOOooo…

Severus couldn't for anything understand what had driven him over to Potters office. Potter wasn't supposed to be home for hours yet, and he knew. And still he had walked up all those stairs, nocked on his door, and hoped. Deep inside he had wanted to explain why he had turned down Potter's offer. He had wanted someone to make him talk. Make him explain. To take some heavy weight of his chest. And all of a sudden he had been standing in front of him. Opening the door. Letting him in.
For some insane reason he had been back early, and run into him as his hand hit the cold wooden door. And he had invited him in, and looked at him in that same way he had done for a while now. Understanding.
And here he was. Tea and everything. Waiting for the question to be asked, even though he didn't really knew the answer to it.

…oooOOOooo…

Harry took a sip of his tea. It tasted like streepslugjuice (whatever that might be good for), and he put it down carefully, without a a twinch in his face. He looked at Snape, who didn’t seem to bother at all, and figured it was either because he didn't dare to complain, or because he actually liked his tea like that – disgusting as it was.
Harry drew a big breath, looked down on his empty hands, lying scarsely still in his lap, and asked. A careful, gentle voice. Harry constantly reminded himself, that one step to far out, and the man would probable be out the door before he got to blink.
"Why didn't you want the job? You've earned it. You've wanted it for so long. Why? Is it me?”

…oooOOOooo…

Severus felt his entire world fall apart. All of his walls and hidingplaces fell down, and he knew his voice, normally so strong and confident, would tremble when he started speaking. His worst fair, was to show his strenght fail. Not to be strong.
But he answered. In the only way he knew, he answered, and he told Potter he didn't know. He had no idea. He wanted it. Ofcourse he wanted the job. He had longed for it for so long. His voice did tremble. In fact, all of him was shaking. Delivering himself in this way, was more than he could handle. And noone had seen him like this since Albus.
He did stop talking at that point, but one look to the other chair, told him to continue. In Potters eyes he saw a genuine interest. The young man really wanted to know what had made him say no.
He didn’t want to admit it. Neither to Potter or to himself. He didn’t want anyone to see that obviouse soft spot. That warmth in his heart. The part that cared. The empty space in his heart, that Albus had told him to keep open. He had refused. He had said no. over and over and over. He had told himself that there was noone to fill it. He could just keep doing his thing. Beeing good at his potions. Living life alone with them.
When Minerva had presented to him, Potters offer, his first thought had ben ”finally”. He recalled the feeling of finally getting what he wanted, and then…his thoughts had disappeared. All of his longing for DADA-teaching had blurred out, and Albus had tuned in. His face had smiled. And reminded Severus, that the space in his heart might be there for someone surprising. Someone he never thought he’d care so much for.
And then, after all, when all was said and done, he knew it was Potters turn now. This was what Potter really wanted.
This was what Harry needed.
Even though he wanted it too, somewhere deep inside, he didn't need it. He had his profession in Potions, and that was him. His thing. His masterpiece.
And besides, he added to himself, he didn't need pity. Never. Well was he aware he needed friends, but never pity.

…oooOOOooo…

Harry felt awful. He had wanted this job since he graduated from Hogwarts, and had been so happy when he had been offered. The same instant, he had thought of Snape. Albus had once told him how much the potions master wanted this job, and he wanted him to have it. His biggest wish was to stay at Hogwarts. But he didn’t care how. He could have mopped the floors for all he cared. He could have joined the houseelves.
Besides, Harry wanted to see Severus happy. Wanted to get to know him as he knew he was on the inside. The real Severus Snape.

Severus suddenly felt the taste of the tea. The fear of talking had let go of him, and the awful taste hit him. He curled his entire face in a grimace, and put the cup down. Harry had noticed, and he was laughing. He looked happy.

Harry told Severus he understood. He told him he was welcome and wanted, even needed, in parts of his classes, and that he understood. He told him how good it felt to be thought of. He smiled. That awesome smile, that could melt an entire glacier. Probably turn winter into summer.

Severus wanted to smile himself, but left it at the effort. It was yet too hard.
Instead he told Harry a story. A story of a little boy.
A boy who never felt he was loved when he was young. A boy who grew up in a family where status was the most important thing. Nothing else mattered, and the litle boy never felt good enough. He told of the boy being beaten up, locked in and told of. Of slavery and houskeeping, and of always feeling worthless.

Severus' voice trembeled again, he drew his breath, and continued the story.

It was a story wito two actual endings, he said. Not two possible endings, but two real endings. Harry felt himself being one of them, and was told right. And then Severus told him that he was the other ending.
Just as Albus had taken care of Harry, from the day his parents died, he had taken care of Severus when he needed it the most. Their stories were very similar.
They had both lived life alone for a long time. Feeling endlessly lonely, abandoned and worthless. They had both been taken care of by Albus. Severus had found a friend in Lily, Harry had found his in Ron and Hermione.
It felt good to think of it. Good to know. Good to say the words out loud. Severus ended the story with a few silent words, telling Harry that Albus would have wanted this job for him. Would have wanted him to belong at Hogwarts, just as much as himself. Would have given him a reason to stay, if he could have done it himself.

Harry rose from his chair with a sudden move. He twirled his arms around himself, and simply stood staring into the fire. His shoulders started shaking, and when Severus asked, he couldn’t answer. He felt awkward. Both happy and sad. Alone and accompanied. It was all too much.
Severus had risen from his chair too, and very carefully put his arms around his new friends shoulders. It was scary. He admitted to both himself and Harry, that this was new. Close up contact of this kind, hadn't been in his life since Lily. And yet this was different. Even more real perhaps. More content.
Harry didn't stop shaking. Instead he turned around and burried his face in Severus' chest. Severus slid his arms around harry. Gently. It was peaceful. They both agreed later. The word was peace. Nothing more.

But it had only been the start of something bigger. For weeks the two of them had watched eacother from a distance. There had been ”hello” in the hallways, and occationally talk and laughter, when they met, when noone was there to witness it. Ofcourse.

…oooOOOooo…

Within a month, both Ron, Hermione, Minerva, Neville, nearly headless Nick, Peeves, Molly, and 80% of the Cannons-players had asked what was going on. Harry hadn't been able to stop smiling for the past week, and when Minerva had popped out of nowhere, surprising both of them, laughing their heads of in the dungeon hallway one evening, she had smiled. One of those warm, thoughtful smiles, that means the world. She had hugged them both, and disappeared within a second, promising not to tell.
They had looked at eachother wondering what there was to not be told, before Severus had grabbed Harry softly, and kissed him. In a way, he had never believed that the man he had known as Professor Snape, for most of his life, was able to show such feelings. On the other hand, he had waited so long for this. Longed. But as Severus was a man of certain class, and with his tensions, he had slowed down and waited. And waited...and waited.
It was a scared kiss. Severus didn't breathe until Harry had told him to relaxe, and smiled. It was passionate and gentle, and scared.

The whole thing had happened so gradually that none of them had been in control of it. They had grown to care for eachother in a few months, and neither one of them had yet dared to speak any words of love. It was such a strong word. A scary and powerful word, that one needed to be sure one meaned before he spoke.

Harry was sure. So sure. The man was everything. His broad shoulders, his deep voice, his gigantic warm hands. His big heart, the warmth of his smile, when he occationally smiled from deep inside his heart, and the way he could look at you, and see everything, and know exactly what to do about it - always.

Severus was sure. Sure he loved Harry, but not so sure Harry could love him. Harry was amazing. He had watched him become a man. Grow up from an annoying boy, to a tender and caring man. Harry had an stunning body, and he had thought of him like that for quite some time. He had wanted him. But the glow in his eyes, and the warmth of his smile. And the way that he kissed. (It was totally annoying, as Severus had found himself totally out of control when it happened.) And even more....the way they both seemed to know how the other felt. All the time.

But either one of them dared to tell. What if the other one laughed and blew it away. It was unbearable to think of. But it had continued, and the two of them had grown closer.

At a point Harry decided it was due to spend some time alone. Their journey had started only three months ago, and autumn and November was closing in on them. Harry didn't enjoy autumn much. He felt down and tired mostly all the time. Severus knew, and as good as every night, Harry was invited to spend time at his place, in front of the fireplace. They sunk down in their big armchairs, and opened up to eachother. Talked about everything. Got to know one another.

As Christmas closed in, they decided to tell. Or rather to confirm, as everyone seemed to know allready anyways. Severus had brought it up one night, after Minerva bothering him with intense questions eight nights in a row.

Ron and Hermione was both happy for Harry, and a bit concerned about his choice, but it passed quickly, as they saw happiness in both pairs of eyes. Minerva smiled for a week, and Neville actually dared to give Severus a hug, when he saw him smiling. Harry had never felt so happy. So lucky. So grateful. Even though he smiled a lot, Harry still found himself staring out to the rain for hours straight, and was unable to tell why. That depression just didn’t want to let go of him.

For Christmas, Harry got an atlas. A muggle one, similar to the one Severus had owned his entire life. Harry was amazed at first, but not half of what he felt the first night in front of the fireplace, when Severus guided him trough Italy. The same country he had wandered in his own mind, the first night he had really talked to Harry. The night Potter became Harry. Severus had managed to conjure a smile on Harrys sad face, and after that night, the depression was easier to handle. Harry felt lighter. Less heavy.

Late February, Harry had surprised Severus with plane-tickets and hotel-reservations. They were leaving mid march, and Harry had decided they was to stay for a week. Living as muggles, traveling slowly by plane, walking Rome as regular tourists, drinking 'houses' red wine' and eating real Italian pasta. Beeing alive. Falling in love.

Harry had, after some persuation, agreed to the language-potion, and Severus had agreed to the plane. He had held onto Harrys arm for three hours straight, and they both ended up numb, but alive, when Harry gouided them from the Fiuminico Aeroporta di Roma, onto the train and into Rome.
The hotel had been a great surprise, and the roomservice outstanding. Harry had ordered champaigne and strawberries to greet them, and it was all set and done. Nothing would overcome this.
The days had rushed by. Sights to be seen, roads to walk. Fontana di Trevi, Colosseo, and now Foro Romano.



…oooOOOooo…

They had enjoyed every minute of their trip so far, and yet there was only Wednesday and lots of more days to go, sights to be seen.
Harry drew Severus closer, and whispered in his ear " Ti amo per mai." Severus answered with a kiss, and a " Ti amo ugualmente…ora…è ci un
Harry-arco, o io dovrà costruirlo uno?!"

It was a start of something wonderful. This warmth. This care. This gentleness. They would still have a long way to go, but it had begun.
Severus closed his eyes, and drew Harry closer. The feeling of his gentle fingers, playing with the hair in his neck, made him smile. He had never felt like this before. This was real.

---

...and for those of you that should still be wondering, the parts you don't understand, is in italian.. ;)