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."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry kept a tight hold of his temper.
"It means that you, of all people, know who and what I am."
Before last week, Harry would have never needed to question why Snape didn't date. Recalling his reaction to what Justin had told him in the club, his shock that Snape would be able to find someone to have sex with at all, he felt abruptly ashamed.
But this wasn't about him. This was about Severus. Trying to understand just what he was dealing with here, Harry softly questioned, "So you don't date at all – ever?"
"Never," Severus stiffly replied.
"Is this a new development or – "
"Must you really ask that question? Do I strike you as having been any more popular in my youth than I am in middle age? What man in his right mind would want to date someone with my cantankerous personality and, shall we say, less than stunning appearance?" Snape sneered the word 'date' out like it was an obscenity.
Harry felt his heart twist in a sympathy that he knew Severus would despise. His own relationship problems could all be traced back to his celebrity status, but what must it be like for someone like Snape, who was considered loathsome by most? How must it feel to know that you were that . . . undesirable?
Harry took a deep breath, caught Severus' angry glare and answered, "I can't vouch for my soundness of mind, but I would."
"You would what?" Severus didn't quite snarl.
"Like to date you, if you were willing. Tonight hasn't been so bad, has it?" Harry asked.
Severus was regarding him as if he'd taken complete leave of his senses, which perhaps he had. The fact that they were here at all, together on a date, was insane to start with.
After a long moment of watching his face, the peevish, pinched look left Severus' candlelit features. Seeming utterly thrown, Severus gave a negative shake of his head.
"Don't look so shocked," Harry said. "We've already established that I'm suffering a head injury of unknown severity."
Severus didn't respond to his attempt to lighten the moment. "The shock is unavoidable. I suppose that I just never considered that anyone would find my company . . . enjoyable."
Severus' ruthless self-honesty was staggering. Harry hardly knew how to respond to it.
"Well, I certainly never thought I would," Harry answered at last.
To his delight, the ends of Severus' lips twisted upwards in a shy, appealing smile before his face smoothed into its usual bland expression.
Something seemed to pass between them as they stared at each other in the ensuing pause in the conversation. It was like what happened at night. They didn't say anything, because there simply weren't enough words in the dictionary to encompass the bizarre situation they found themselves in. Yet, there was some kind of communication going on all the same.
Harry could almost feel how painful the effort Severus was making to be sociable was when he remarked, "Do you enjoy your work as an Auror?"
That was all the opening Harry needed. He mightn't be any less freaked out than Severus was, but due to his celebrity status, he'd had a lot more experience in answering questions when off balance. Severus' forced foray into small talk gave him conversational fodder for the remainder of the meal.
By the time their coffee and dessert had arrived, Severus appeared almost relaxed. To Harry's surprise, the other man had actually seemed to enjoy listening to him talk. But then, if a person were alone as much as Severus was, any voice other than his own was probably a novelty.
Damn, but the man was sexy, Harry thought, surreptitiously studying those striking features. He didn't know what it was about Severus that made him suddenly realize that. Severus was still dressed as conservatively as a monk, cloaked in black from chin to toe. Severus' attitude wasn't the least bit suggestive or flirtatious. He was as buttoned up and repressed as ever, only . . . tonight Harry could feel an almost magnetic pull to him.
As Harry took in that long form, he wondered if the sensual air he was picking up had been there all along and he'd simply failed to notice it or if it were a new development, perhaps related to him. He hoped it were the latter, because he really wanted to try to make Severus happy. He was beginning to realize that no one else had ever bothered about Severus.
The man had never dated. He knew, without needing to ask, that Snape had no friends. Harry could hardly wrap his mind around a life that lonely.
Well, that was going to change. Sitting there, watching Severus eat the last of his tiramisu while that dark gaze roamed the restaurant, taking everything in as though he were memorizing it in case he never experienced something like this again, Harry was resolved to introduce Severus to some of the joys he'd missed out on.
His fingers ached to undo Severus' ponytail and send all that long black hair spilling over his shoulders.
Their gazes met and held. Harry felt as if he were falling into those bottomless, inky depths, drowning in desire. Recognizing a similar heat in Severus' eyes, Harry started in his chair.
Alfonso's was not the place to end up locked in a clinch. He knew how reserved Severus was. That kind of public display would only embarrass him, even if Severus were as caught up in the heat of the moment as he was.
Seeing Maria enter the dining room, Harry caught her eye and gestured for the bill.
Severus reached for the bill when Maria brought it over, but Harry beat him to it. "This one's mine. You can pay next time."
"Next time?" Severus questioned.
Harry raised his brow, holding Severus' gaze until his companion flushed and looked away.
"Thank you, Maria. And please extend our gratitude to your father. The chicken Parmesan was as wonderful as ever," Harry said as he put a bunch of galleons down on the tray she held. Harry knew that two would have been more than sufficient for the meal, but food that perfect deserved proper acknowledgment.
Side by side, they left the restaurant.
Wincing as the sleet blasted them, Harry took Severus' arm outside the door. A heartbeat later, they'd rematerialized in Severus' sitting room.
After the assault of cold and stinging sleet, the room felt wonderfully warm and welcoming. Harry sighed in relief.
Severus' hand was still on his arm. Harry glanced up into Severus' face and didn't look away. For a week now, he'd been hungering to kiss Severus, resisting the urge because he wasn't sure Snape wanted anything that intimate between them. Most of the men Harry slept with didn't care to kiss. But Severus' lack of resistance to his overtures tonight made Harry bold.
Holding that dark, beautiful gaze, Harry reached up, cupped the back of Severus' head and gently guided him downwards.
Severus' eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't pull back.
Recognizing that a disaster was about to occur if he didn't move fast, Harry quickly turned his face to the side, avoiding the painful smash of noses by mere seconds.
