"Thank you, Al," Harry said as the rotund wizard made his way to the kitchen.
Harry looked over to his companion. Severus was gazing curiously around the crowded restaurant. He was dressed in his usual black robes, jacket, and suit, with his long black hair contained in a neat ponytail. Harry couldn't pick out a single thing about Severus that was different from the way he'd appeared in Whispers last Friday. Severus was just as sombre, with that unmistakable air of menace and danger that had always clung to Snape. But for some reason when Harry looked at Severus tonight, none of the usual adjectives passed through his mind. Perhaps it was merely an effect of the flickering candle and firelight, but words like sensual, striking, and mysterious were crowding out the usual insults.
"You come here often, I take it," Severus said when he'd finished taking in his surroundings.
Harry nodded. "Yes. It's one of the few places I feel comfortable. Do you like it?"
"I'll withhold judgment until the food arrives," Severus replied.
Harry chuckled.
"Speaking of food, what would you recommend?" Severus asked.
Alfonso's youngest daughter, the dark-haired, lovely Maria, arrived with a bread basket and took their drink orders. The next ten minutes passed in a pleasant discussion of the menu. Once their dinner choices were passed on to the kitchen, silence fell between them.
"Er, I was wondering what sort of medicinal potions you've been working on?" Harry asked.
Severus appeared startled. After a brief pause, he answered, "I've been researching a tumour reduction potion for the last six months. Before that I was working on a cure for pneumonia. That was my most recent patent."
"Are you working freelance or at one of the research labs?" Harry questioned.
"I'm associated with Greymoore Labs," Snape named the most prestigious and lucrative potion making company in the Wizarding World, "but I do my research in a private lab in my basement."
Harry hadn't really given it much consideration, but he realized now that Snape's house was large enough for him to have a considerable lab in the cellar.
"You mustn't see anyone from one end of the week to the next, in that case. It sounds lonely," Harry couldn't stop himself from commenting.
"I found the solitude comforting after the trials," Snape said.
Harry was very conscious of the verb tense Severus used. Found, not find. For all that he could tell, with the exception of his rare trips to Whispers, Snape lived totally alone in his house with his potions and his books. Even for the most determined curmudgeon, the isolation had to be hard.
Their meals arrived then, interrupting the awkward pause.
Severus had followed his example and ordered Harry's favourite, chicken Parmesan. Harry had to smile at Severus' expression as Maria put the fragrant plate down in front of him. He could tell that Severus was trying to look unimpressed, but the steaming, cheese and tomato sauce covered chicken was hard to resist.
The silence lost its tension as they began to eat. They'd slowed down to something approaching mere ravenous when Severus looked across the table at him and softly stated, "I appreciate the effort you're making tonight, but I'm afraid I'm not very good at socializing, Potter."
Harry considered the dozens of possible responses. The most tempting was a denial, but they were both too conscious of the strained silences between them tonight for Harry to even pretend ignorance. Deciding that honesty was probably his best bet, Harry replied in an equally subdued tone, "You don't have to be social. I just wanted to spend some time with you that didn't involve – what we've been doing this last week, not that there's anything wrong with what we've been doing. Are you enjoying yourself or is this a tremendous trial?"
Harry was genuinely curious, because he couldn't tell for sure from Severus' expression exactly how the other man felt about their date.
Severus' dark gaze moved around the romantically lit restaurant, coming to rest on Harry. "This evening has been . . . surprisingly enjoyable."
"Then what's the problem?" Harry asked.
"I realize that my company is . . . less than scintillating," Severus said. "Surely, you would be more comfortable with someone your own age who would – "
"Fawn over me, sleep with me because of my headlines, and then leave disenchanted because I failed to live up to their fantasy?" Harry broke in, letting Severus see how much the typical reaction to the media hype bothered him. "You haven't heard me complain, have you?"
"No, I don't understand it, but you've been surprisingly . . . forbearing," Severus answered.
"There's been nothing to be forbearing about," Harry insisted. "I know who you are. I wasn't expecting you to grow a whole new personality for my amusement. We're not shouting or being horrible to each other. That's all that counts."
Severus' brow rose almost to his hairline. A heartbeat later, his dark gaze lowered to his mostly empty plate. "I don’t understand what you want from me, aside from . . . what we've been doing lately. That I understand. This is . . . confusing."
Harry gulped as that surprisingly open gaze met his own again. After the amazing sex they'd had, how could Severus be confused by his wanting to get to know him better? Had no one ever dated Snape or courted him? Had his life always been nothing but work and anonymous sex?
Harry abruptly recalled the odd significance Severus had placed on his thank you this morning. In retrospect, it really did seem as though Severus had been overwhelmed at being asked out, unnaturally so. But despite the obvious, stressful novelty of the experience and his natural suspicion of anyone making friendly overtures to him, Snape had still found the courage to come, so their seeing each other socially had to mean something to him, too.
Harry swallowed hard. "I guess I want to get to know the man you are now. He seems very different from the Severus Snape I remember."
Snape took a sip of his wine and answered, "That isn't necessary for what we do together."
"Maybe not, but you asked what I wanted," Harry reminded.
"May I ask why you'd be interested in . . . such a learning experience?" Snape questioned.
Harry was shocked to realize that Severus was serious. After the sex they'd had this week, Harry had thought the answer to Snape's question would be self-explanatory, but maybe Severus wasn't accustomed to anyone wanting more than sex from him.
Staring into those bottomless black eyes, which were watching him as if waiting for a lie, Harry knew he couldn't say his interest was born of the sex. He had a strong feeling that sex was all anyone had wanted from Severus over the years. While it might be true that the passion they'd found was a great motivator for his wanting to get to know Snape, it wasn't the entire truth. So he offered something more personal, something Severus could use against him, were he so inclined.
"Because I'm not unfamiliar with loneliness myself, and for the last week, I've felt . . . less alone," Harry admitted, wondering if he were making a mistake. It just felt wrong to confess to any type of weakness before Snape.
But Snape didn't rip into him. Instead, Severus shifted in his seat and glanced down at the candle between their two plates. Finally, he voiced a low, uncertain, "Because of me?"
Harry nodded, his throat tightening up. He knew being this blunt with another man could easily lead to the end of whatever type of relationship they'd had. Most gay wizards ran from the idea of emotional attachment and commitment the way Muggles would from a prospective lover announcing he had a fatal STD. Harry knew the score. He realized he was violating rule number one here by being so honest about the effect Severus had had on his life.
But Severus was so far outside the norm that he didn't appear to notice the unforgivable faux pas Harry had committed. Instead of running or mocking Harry for his childish candidness, both of which Harry would have fully understood, Severus said in a quiet tone, "I'm not . . . accustomed to any of this. Be warned, Potter, this could be a disaster in the making."
Taking courage in the fact that Severus was warning rather than berating him, Harry said, "I'll take my chances. You've been fantastic so far."
The compliment was obviously a surprise. Seeming far more relaxed, Severus gave a snort and a self-deprecating, "I've been totally out of my depth, as we both well know."
"If it's any consolation, I'm not used to dating anymore, either," Harry offered.
"Dating – " Snape's head snapped up. He looked like the word had ambushed him.
"Well, I don't know what else to call it. I realize we're doing things a little backwards, starting where other people end up, but if it's enjoyable to us both, what difference does it make?" Harry asked, trying to keep things light.
Perhaps his bluntness panicked Severus, for he became very prickly as he insisted, "I don't date, Potter. The very idea is ludicrous."
"Why?"
"Why – what?" Severus snapped. "Why I don't date or why the idea is preposterous?"
"Both, I guess," Harry answered.
"Have you suffered a head injury of which I'm unaware?" Snape demanded. "That is the only explanation I can conceive of for your current attitude."
