Chapter Text
Harry looked up when he heard the bell over the door jingle and felt a smile break out over his face as Severus Snape walked inside. He reached for a large mug and had the coffee ready to hand over the moment the man reached the counter.
"Good afternoon, Severus," said Harry, accepting the money the man handed over.
"Harry," said Severus, inclining his head. He took his drink and had a seat at the counter. He sipped the coffee and closed his eyes. Harry grinned, glad he and his coffee were able to offer the man a bit of a respite from the hectic world outside.
"Busy day?" Harry asked.
"The holidays are always a busy time," said Severus. "People want potions to make them thinner, to make them more attractive, as though the people they are visiting cannot tell that they look better than they did the week before."
"Not everyone sees family all the time," said Harry. He thought about his own upcoming holiday and felt his chest tighten. It was hardly the first time Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys had decided to spend the holidays without him, but it still hurt just as much as it had the first time he realized he hadn’t been invited to the Burrow for Christmas.
Not that he could blame anyone for not wanting him around. He still had nightmares of the last battle, when Voldemort had held Ginny hostage so Harry would come and fight for her. He had, of course, but he hadn’t been able to save her. His killing curse hit Voldemort right after his hit Ginny. He had rushed to her side afterward, but of course he had been too late to save her. He had still been crying, holding her lifeless body in his arms, when Severus had burst into the room, wand drawn.
He had paused when he saw Harry and Ginny, the dead dark lord lying forgotten on the side. He had lowered his wand and approached Harry, an unreadable look on his face, but then the doors had burst open once again, and Ron and Hermione had come in, and Ron had taken one look at Ginny and pushed Harry out of the way, his face crumpling as he held his little sister. Hermione came over and tried to comfort Ron, tears streaming down her own face. Harry had moved into the corner of the room, guilt and sadness threatening to overwhelm him. The rest of the Order came in not long after. Dumbledore had verified that Voldemort was dead, but there was no real celebrating to be had as there had been so many dead. Ginny was the last of the Weasleys to die, but she had not been the first. Charlie and Percy had been killed not long after Percy had come back and apologized to his family for turning on them, and Remus had died at the start of the battle, trying to save Tonks. Hagrid had fallen beside his brother and several of the centaurs that had finally been persuaded to fight the Death Eaters. McGonagall and Flitwick had fallen, as had half a dozen of the older students who had stayed back to fight. Death Eaters had fallen, as well, but Harry paid them no attention as he helped those not currently overwhelmed by grief clean up the fields of Hogwarts.
Harry had brushed off all attempts to tell him to sit down and leave the work for others. Severus in particular had tried to get him to rest. He had even gone so far as to put his hand on Harry's shoulder as he struggled to levitate Remus's corpse to the front of the school.
"Levicorpus," Severus had whispered, and he had moved Remus's body as Harry stood there, feeling like a complete failure. How had he managed to let so many people die? He had been supposed to save them all, but he had failed, had fulfilled his destiny too late to feel proud of anything he had accomplished.
The Weasleys had said that they didn't blame him for Ginny, but he had seen the dark look in Ron's eyes when he looked at Harry, and he had seen the way Fred and George had been unable to look him in the eyes. He had attended the funerals of every single person who had died fighting for their side. The Weasleys had one big funeral for Ginny, Percy, and Charlie, and Harry had stood in the back, not wanting to interrupt. Severus had stood beside him, not saying anything, which made Harry feel marginally better. The man had been his trainer for the last year and a half, had been the one to teach Harry how to fight, how to go on the offensive, how to clear his mind finally so that Voldemort had not been able to send him visions anymore. Not that that mattered. He didn't need their connection to be tortured each night by visions of Ginny's last moments. He had seen the cuts and marks on her. He didn't need to have seen it himself to know what had been done to her while Voldemort had waited for Harry to show up.
Harry had wanted to go up to the Weasleys and Hermione, to say something to them, but he had no idea what to say to them, and they didn't seem to be in any hurry to talk to him. Mr. Weasley had looked around, spotted Harry, and then turned around, as had most of the other Weasleys. Hermione had looked up at him with a sad, apologetic look on her face that told Harry all he needed to know. She was siding with them, with Ron. Not that Harry blamed her for that.
After all, he blamed himself for the deaths, too.
It had been over two years since the war ended, and Harry still hadn’t forgiven himself. He hadn’t said anything to the Weasleys since the final battle ended. Hadn’t really seen anyone but Severus, actually, which would have been funny in other circumstances. If anyone had told him as a student that he would have no other friends but Snape, he would have told them they were crazy. In fact, Severus probably also would think Harry was crazy. Just because the man came in to the coffee shop Harry owned every day didn’t mean that he thought of Harry as a friend. His potions shop was right down the street, and the man liked his coffee. It was probably just a coincidence that he came to the one where Harry worked. And the man needed a break from his own work, which was the only reason he sat there and drank his coffee at the counter where he could talk to Harry.
And speaking of Severus... The man was talking to him again. He should probably listen to what the man was saying.
"Just because people see their families less often is no reason to try to alter your appearance," said Severus, frowning. "I understand not liking your appearance, but if people care about you, surely they do not care."
Harry frowned at the man, not liking the way he was implying that he didn't like his appearance, but he didn't know that the man would believe him if Harry said he thought he was attractive, so he kept his mouth shut on that topic. "Maybe people just get nervous during the holidays and want to look their best. It's not crazy to want to make a good impression on people."
"Anyone worth knowing would not care that you look a certain way," said Severus.
"No disagreement there," said Harry. He looked down at the counter he was supposed to be cleaning and thought about his own appearance. If he had been going somewhere for the holiday, would he have been tempted to change something about himself? Would he have done it to get someone he wanted? He looked up at Severus and thought about it. If he could take a potion that would change his appearance and make him attractive to Severus, would he do it? Before he even had to stop and think about it, though, he knew the answer. No, he wouldn't do it. He would rather be alone forever than only be with the man because he had changed something so fundamental about himself. Not that it mattered, of course, because he would have to change a lot more than just his looks to get the man to be interested in him.
Harry didn't know when his crush on Severus started or even if it could really be called a crush at this point. After all, it had been over two years since the war ended and another year and a half since he had started training with the man, so his crush had to have been going on for about three or four years at this point. He didn't even really know how it had happened. It was like one moment, he was working with the greasy git of a potions master, the man who had lived to make him as miserable as possible, and then the next he was working with Severus, the cunning and intelligent man who was preparing him to defeat Voldemort, and who also gave him alcohol and a sympathetic ear at times.
That had really been the most surprising moment for Harry, the first time he had admitted that he didn't think he would make it through the war and didn't even really care as long as Voldemort was defeated. Severus had looked furious for a moment, and then he had invited Harry into his private quarters, and he had given him a drink and listened while Harry confessed that he didn't know what he was doing and that he was sure he was going to let everyone down.
He had expected Snape to yell at him, to say that he was giving up too soon and that he was letting down his parents and everyone else who had died thus far, but instead he had listened and then told Harry that while he could understand those thoughts, they would eat Harry alive if he wasn't careful. He reminded him that he had friends who cared about him and that the world would be better just because he was fighting and others were fighting, and they were giving people hope and that he should not let go of that hope, either. Harry had listened to others say the same thing before, but for some reason it made more sense coming from Severus, and he had found himself looking forward to the end of the war, especially as his talks with Severus continued, and they had started to talk about more than just the war and Harry's fears. He had gotten to know the man rather well during that time, and that was when he had fallen in love with him.
Not that Harry would ever tell the older man about his feelings. That would have been laughable even before the war ended, but it was even more ridiculous now. He and Severus might have had weekly chats in the man's study, but that did not mean that the man wanted anything to do with Harry now. He had been there the day Ginny had died, had been the first one to see her dead in Harry's arms. He had seen all the people Harry had failed to save. He more than anyone knew how weak Harry had been, how under prepared. If he had listened to Severus's warnings from the beginning, before Dumbledore had mandated that they start spending time together training, then maybe things would have been different. Maybe if Harry had spent more time training and less time trying to drink away his sorrows in Severus's office, he might have learned something that would have saved Ginny or Charlie or Percy or Remus or Hagrid or any of the other dozens of people who had been killed in the final battle, and that didn't even count all the people who had died before the final battle, whom Harry had also been unable to save.
After the final battle, Harry had done what he had been told to do. He accepted the awards they gave him and tried to ignore the glares he felt coming off Ron. He visited people who had suffered because of the war, and he accepted the praise he knew he didn't deserve, and he tried to offer what comfort he could. He had spent almost a year wandering around, trying to reach people who didn't know him and therefore were still able to think of him as a hero, even though that was so far from what he really was. He had done what he was supposed to do, and then he felt lost. All his dreams growing up now seemed wrong. How could he be an Auror when he already couldn't deal with the mistakes he had made, the people he had killed or gotten killed? No, that wasn't for him. Besides, Ron had stuck with the Auror thing, and Harry didn't want to get in his way.
He had thought about Healing, but that would require skills he didn't have. Albus had offered him a teaching position, but he couldn't do that, either, couldn't stand the idea that people would listen to him and look up to him and think that he had a clue what he was doing.
And so he had opened a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, and he had set it up so that all proceeds went to different charities to try to help people who had been affected by the war. He hadn't really expected to make much money, but he supposed he should have realized that people would fight to get coffee from the Boy Who Lived. Since the money went to charity and it allowed him to keep busy without having to do anything that reminded him of the war, he wasn't going to complain. Much.
He had been open for about three months when Severus wandered in. He had looked surprised to see Harry there, and they had chatted about why Harry was doing this of all things. He had said that Harry was wasting his talents. Harry had been surprised to find that Severus thought he had any talents, but he wasn't going to question it because he knew the man would just find more reasons to insult him, and that was hardly what Harry wanted. So instead he had just shrugged and said he had needed a change of scenery for a while. Severus had mocked him but then said he made exceptional coffee, so he wouldn't complain too much.
And that was how he and Severus got to the point where he now saw the man practically every day. Harry had hired some other people to work with him, so he really didn't have to stay there himself, but once Severus started coming in all the time, he knew he had to stay there, too, as it meant that he would get to see Severus more often, and that was really the only positive thing in his life anymore. He didn't have any friends. He didn't have a fulfilling career. He didn't have a family. But he had his daily conversations with Severus, conversations where he could almost pretend that they were on a date, if he ignored the fact that Harry worked there and that Severus would come in for coffee the same whether Harry was there or not.
"Do you have any plans for the holidays?" Severus asked.
Pushing aside memories of past holidays with Ron and Hermione, Harry shook his head. "Not this year." Or any year, most likely, but it seemed a bit melodramatic to put it that way, and he doubted Severus needed any more self-pity from Harry, not when he had put up with so much of it during the war. "What about you?"
Severus shook his head. "My living family relocated during the first war, as I did not want either side to be able to get to them because they were mad at me. I have not seen them since."
Harry gaped at the man. How had he spent all this time with Severus and not realized he had living family? He had thought the man didn’t have anyone other than his parents, but he supposed he had never asked. "Why not? The war ended years ago.”
Severus scowled at him. "I would think you of all people would understand why the end of battle does not mean that its effects are not alive and well. Hell, I received a death threat just this morning."
“What?” Harry bolted from his chair, reaching for his wand. “Did you report it? Why are you just now mentioning it?”
“Because they are a normal part of my life. I know how to protect myself. Holidays remind people of those they lost, so I get more threats than normal this time of year. It’s nothing to be concerned about.”
Harry didn’t see how he could not be concerned. “But you were on our side!”
“Not everyone believes that,” said Severus, looking at his cup instead of Harry. “Others hate me for that very reason, hating that I betrayed the Dark Lord.”
“Still, that sounds—”
“Like yet another reason I should stay away from my family. I can protect myself. Protecting others is harder.”
Well. Harry could hardly argue with that. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s none of my business.”
Severus frowned at him suspiciously, and then he sighed and seemed to accept Harry's apology. "It matters not. I have not seen them in years, and it is probably best for all involved that it remain that way."
Harry couldn't see why that would be the case, but he had already made the man mad once that day, and he was not eager to do it again, not when he knew that coffee was the only reason he still got to see Severus all the time. He knew that the man would not be happy with him if he kept talking about what he didn't want to talk about. So Harry nodded and asked the man about whether he should get Albus the flashing neon socks he had seen the other day, and they discussed horrible headmaster gifts until Severus left to get back to his shop.