Vagaries of Fate

[lesyeuxverts]

Title: Vagaries of Fate
Author: lesyeuxverts00
Beta: angela_snape
Word Count: 2600ish
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snarry
Prompt: happy ending
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: A belated birthday ficlet for hambares - hope you enjoy!



There was no accounting for the vagaries of life, and Severus, biting his tongue as he waited outside the librarian's office, swore that he would demand such an accounting when he had the chance. Of all the tricks and spite of fate, this was the worst.

He glared at the Muggle woman leaving the office. Her squashy bag brushed against him as she squeezed past, and she trod on his foot, glaring back at him.

This was it – after empty promises and empty years, this was it. He hesitated on the threshold, watching Potter bend over his work, scribbling notes on a yellow pad of paper.

Biting his tongue again, Severus let the faint spike of coppery pain calm him. He wiped his hands on his slacks and unfolded his notes as he stepped into the office.

"Mr. Potter," he said. He glared at the shaggy mop of black hair, the clever hands occupied with turning pages and relentless, messy scribbles.

He waited, but still Potter – and Severus cursed the fates that had made this man the librarian at this library – did not respond.

"Mr. Potter," he said again, raising his voice, and at last he looked up, blinking at Severus.

"It's so good of you to give me a fraction of your attention – that is, if your pathetic excuse for a brain is capable of paying attention to anything for longer than five seconds."

Pulling tiny things out of his ears – more Muggle trash, no doubt – Severus sneered as Potter smiled at him. "I'm very sorry, sir, I didn't hear you. Is there something I can do to help you?"

Severus shoved the sheaf of papers at him. "I need to access these manuscripts."

Potter took the papers with a daft, crooked smile. "Thank you. Do please have a seat. It'll only be a moment."

Potter looked over the papers, making quick notes on a little piece of paper. "Of course, sir. Why, you've got all of the forms filled out perfectly – you don't know how rare that is.

"I just need your address – right on this line here, you've forgotten to note it down."

Their fingers brushed when Severus took the pen from him. He wrote the address of his flat in London and passed the form back to Potter, jabbing the pen at the list of titles. "Can you get these for me?"

"Of course." Potter smiled at Severus, his face like porcelain, a placid doll's face and just as lifeless. Severus wanted to grip his shoulders and shake him until he cried out. He wanted to shove emotions down Potter's throat until they choked him. His fists clenched in his lap, Severus parted his lips in a mockery of a smile.

Potter blinked, and gave Severus another smile, hesitant and wary. Very well – if the brat refused to mention what had passed between them, Severus would put it far from his mind and heart. He was not here for foolish excuses or stricken apologies – he was here because he needed the manuscripts. He needed Potter's help because he needed the manuscripts, nothing more.

----

Of all the things that had changed, Potter's ineffable grin and insatiable curiosity were not among them. He perched on the edge of the table where Severus worked, his foot swinging through the air and that damnable smile teasing at his lips.

"What are you working on?" he asked.

Severus reached to dip his ballpoint pen in an inkwell that didn't exist and turned to glare at Potter. "Not that it is any of your concern, but you know perfectly well what I'm working on."

"I don't, actually," Potter said. His voice rose out of a library whisper, as clear and pleasant as it had ever been. Severus cursed the things that did not change – Potter's sexy voice, his adorable rumpled hair, his sparkling eyes, his damnable lack of courtesy, his abhorrent personality.

"If you can't be bothered to remember, then it's of no concern to you, is it?"

"What should I remember? Just because I fetched the books from the archives doesn't mean that I understand them or know what you plan on doing with them."

Severus's fingers tightened on the atrocious Muggle pen and he pointedly turned to the pile of books in front of him, ignoring Potter. "In that case, I think we have nothing further to discuss, Mr. Potter."

"Nothing further to discuss? I asked you a simple and polite question, that's all. I think you could give me an answer, or else we could find other things to discuss."

Whatever the vagaries of fate, some things never changed. "I am working, as you see."

"Surely you don't intend to sit and write for hours, your fingers will cramp up."

Severus picked up the pen and drew out a fresh page of paper, scrawling the date at the top corner and an illegible title beneath it.

"What are you working on?"

"A potion to ensure your swift and untimely death," Severus said, bending to copy from the text in front of him.

"A potion?" Potter asked. His fingers brushed against Severus's shoulder as he shifted on the table, and his laugh was sunshine lovely, strong and pure.

Severus leaned away from Potter's touch and put his fingers to his lips, biting down on his fingertips. The pain was a distraction, an anchor against the seductive lilt of Potter's voice.

"That's too funny," Potter said. "Come on – tell me another one. What are you really working on?"

With boundless Gryffindor persistence, Potter leaned over his shoulder and peered at his notes. His mouth moved as he sounded out the words, his lips warm and close to Severus's ear. His breath over Severus's neck, his fingers on the table with their hands close enough to touch – it was torment, undiluted and unrelieved.

Severus slammed the book closed with no regard for its antiquity and yellowing pages. Eyes closed, he said, "I am appalled that your training as a librarian did not include an introduction to the dictionary, Mr. Potter. Be so good as to familiarize yourself with the entry for discretion."

----

After another long day of painstaking, finger-cramping copy work, Severus put the wretched Muggle pen down and looked up at Potter. Bland, insipid smiles – every day, they were the same. Potter never alluded to their past, never looked at him with anything more than a smile. Severus itched to throttle him.

Potter leaned against the table and passed Severus a stack of paper. "Sorry to interrupt you while you're working, but I thought you might need some more paper – and that maybe you'd like some company. It gets lonely in the archives, doesn't it?"

"The only thing I want, Mr. Potter, is your absence."

In the beginning, such a rebuff was enough to make Potter flee, but he's tightened his soft, easy armor and he only smiles again.

Severus's heart catches in his throat at the sparkle in Potter's eyes. He takes a deep breath, cursing fate.

"You know sir, you look familiar. I've got the strangest feeling, almost as though I know you."

Severus's heart leapt from his throat to pound in his ears, the roaring of his pulse enough to deafen him. "How dare you," he said. He took hold of Potter's collar, drawing him close enough to snarl in his face. "How dare you cheapen the past by pretending? How dare you mock me?"

Gasping, Potter lifted his hands to pry Severus's fingers off his shirt.

"What was that? Damnit, if you're going to try to kill me, then just get out. There are sensitive manuscripts here – this is no place for homicide."

Severus took a step toward him, and Potter's wild magic flared up, rattling the shelves and darkening the lights. He backed away from Severus, shaking.

"Look, I don't know what you want from me, but I'll call security, I swear to God I will."

"Potter," Severus said. "Potter – Harry." He rushed closer, grabbing Harry before he could dart away. Holding Harry, rubbing circles on his back, Severus soothed him. "Come on, Harry, that's it. Deep breaths, control it. Control your magic, don't let it control you. That's right, there you are."

The instant the shelves stopped rattling, Harry stiffened in his arms. "What the fuck have you done?"

Severus released him and stepped away, turning to the table. He straightened the books that had toppled from their tower. "I've done nothing," he said. "If you're too much of a fool to see that, then I want nothing more to do with you."

There was a tremble in Potter's lips, his arms were shaking, and he was parchment pale. He reached for Severus, his arm too weak to bridge the distance between them. He let his hand fall, staring at Severus with his bright, pleading eyes.

"Harry ..." Severus closed his eyes and, without another word, left the library.

----

There was a blot of ink on his notes where Severus had stabbed through the paper, aggravated beyond all reason by Potter. There were incoherent scribbles and obliterated sentences, and there was nothing of any use at all to further his research.

There was a knock on the door, and he stuffed the notes in his bag and rose to answer it. Potter, contrite and quiet, was waiting for him. "Sir," he said, putting his hand on the door when Severus moved to shut it. "Please hear me out."

He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it further, and stared down at the floor before looking up at Severus. "I'm sorry about the scene in the library yesterday," he said. "It was wrong of me to interrupt your research, and I'm sorry if I bothered you with my presence. I've resigned my position, so you needn't be afraid to return there to finish your research.

"I ... I shouldn't have blamed you," he said, looking at the ground again. "The ... that thing that happened with the shelves shaking, that was me and not you, wasn't it? And I almost hurt you, didn't I?"

"Harry ... come in," Severus said, and guided him to the sofa. "Sit down. You're not improving matters with this melodrama."

Potter fidgeted, the same nervous habits that he'd always had, and when he looked up at Severus, the polite smiles faded away. Severus reached out and traced the curve of his lips, jumping when Potter said, "God, that feels so familiar. Are you sure I don't know you?"

"You don't know me at all, do you?" Severus asked. His heartbeat was thready and, with his nerves afire, he leaned forward to brush a light kiss across Harry's lips. "Do you remember this? Do you remember leaving me?"

Harry stared at him, his fluttering eyelashes making a soot-black cage for his eyes. He was lovely, entirely so, and Severus reached out to touch him. Skin against skin, his hand on Harry's hand, their fingers entwined – it was as perfect as it always had been, and Severus cursed the fate that had ever taken it away from him.

"I – should I remember this?"

"Tell me what you do remember."

Harry gave one of his coy, uncertain shrugs and looked up at Severus. "Maybe I'd remember more if you kissed me again, that felt kind of familiar."

"You always were a brat." Severus obliged him with a kiss and let his forehead rest against Harry's. "Look, if you ... if this is some kind of game to you, then just ..."

"The near-strangling incident taught me not to play games with you, okay?" Harry raised one hand to trace Severus's jaw, his touch hesitant and slow.

"I don't remember much," he said. "I woke up in a hospital and I didn't know anything. They gave me the things that I'd had with me in the accident, and I got a job at the library through one of the nurses who cared for me."

Severus put a hand on Harry's neck, pulling him forward for another kiss before he stood and pulled him to his feet. "Will you trust me, Harry?" he asked, and waited to see him nod before Apparating them away.

----

The familiarity of Potter in a Hogwarts hospital bed was undeniable to everyone except, of course, the man himself. Severus sat next to him, glaring at Madam Pomfrey until she left them in peace.

"Are you all right?" Potter asked, and Severus turned to redirect the glare at him, dropping his hand.

"Of course I am."

"Then stop glaring at Madam Pomfrey and let her give me the potion."

When Severus looked away, Harry took his hand again and stroked it, pressing a kiss onto his palm and sealing his fingers around it. "Look, I trust the potion that you developed, and even if it doesn't work ... we'll move on from here, all right?"

The vagaries of fate had dropped this man in his lap once again and Severus, for once, was not ready to rail against his destiny. He kissed Harry, reveling in the sweetness of his touch and the perfect irrepressible smile against his lips, before going in search of Madam Pomfrey.

The working of his hand and his brain determined the outcome, and Severus held Harry's hand as he swallowed the potion.

He blinked twice, and scrambled out of the bed to land in Severus's lap, a clumsy bundle of sheets and squirming, smiling Harry. That was answer enough, and Severus put his arms around Harry, keeping him from falling out of his lap.

"Severus?"

His answer was stolen with a kiss. Harry's hands were on his shoulders, unbuttoning his robes, frantic and quick. Severus stopped him and, without a glance or a word for Madam Pomfrey, hoisted Harry in his arms and carried him down to the dungeons.

"Tell me while we walk, because your mouth will be too busy for talking when we get there."

"I don't know, love," Harry said, his breath on Severus's neck enough to drive him to distraction, the kisses and nips that follow enough to do more than that. "I was taking a walk in Muggle London, and that's the last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital.

"What did you think?" he asked, his fingers tangled in Severus's hair. "When I just disappeared like that ... did you think that I'd left you?"

"I thought about the unspeakable things that I wanted to do to you when we next met," Severus said. He braced Harry against the dungeon wall and fumbled in his robes for his wand, undoing the wards on his chambers. "But in the end, I didn't do any of them."

"You loved me too much to hurt me, even when you thought I'd betrayed you."

"Potter, if you insist on spouting such romantic fripperies, I'll be forced to conclude that the months spent in a library irreparably damaged your poor, overworked brain."

"If it has, I'm sure that you can invent a potion to fix it," Harry said. "My hero ... now, stop fumbling with the wards and open the door before I ravish you in the corridor."

Severus tightened his grip on Harry and fumbled through the last ward, bumping the door open with his hip. "I've a better idea," he said. "I'll ravish you in our comfortable bed, and you'll take care in the future not to need any of my healing potions."

Harry kissed him then, pushing him back through the sitting room and into the bedroom. "I can agree to that," he said, and Severus, breathless in his embrace, pushed him down onto the bed.

He held Harry, keeping him close until they were aligned, breath to breath and heartbeat to heartbeat. No vagaries of fate would take his Harry from him again – no destiny or foolishness, no obstacle or injury.