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Blue Summer
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Harry’s never seen Severus like this; sleeves rolled up, lips and fingers stained with blueberries. Of course, he’s never imagined Severus has living relatives either. “I like your aunt,” he says.
Severus hums. “Everyone does.”
“Did you spend summers here as a kid?”
Severus hesitates. “Some,” he finally says. “When Father got...especially difficult, Mother’d pack us up and we’d come here for a week. Occasionally two.” His eyes go distant but his hands never falter picking blueberries. “I hated to leave.”
Harry understands. He’d wanted to live with Sirius, after all. Summers with the Dursleys were especially hard.
Popping some blueberries into his mouth, he smiles, pressing closer to Severus. “We’re eating as many as we put in the basket.”
Severus chuckles. “One of the dangers of blueberry picking. I doubt Aunt Maureen is expecting us back soon, however.”
“Oh?” Harry reaches for Severus’ hand, lacing their fingers together. “So we’ve time.”
“For what?” Severus murmurs, turning to him, his eyes glittering.
Harry’s sure Severus knows what he’s thinking. “Fooling around.” Pressing a kiss to Severus’ mouth, he tastes blueberries.
Severus smirks, pulling him to the ground. “Yes,” he whispers as he moves over Harry. “I suspect we do.”
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