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The first sign that someone had finally bought the cottage next door was when a short-suited man turned up with a clip board seeming to inspect every inch of the property. The second sign was the prompt removal of the for sale sign a couple of days later. The third sign was a week after while he was walking home from the shops and a large white lorry drove past him baring the name ‘Shifters’ - a little on the nose if you asked him. The final sign - and absolute confirmation - was the bumps and bangs that he started to hear through his adjourning wall not loud enough to disturb him but there anyway.
While almost two weeks later, he had yet to see his new neighbour, he undeniably knew he had one. There were small noises he heard late at night, creeks, bumps, and the like that can only come from another person moving around next door. Sometimes he even heard muffled singing either from a radio or the occupant themselves.
Severus spent much of his time in his ‘office’—which was thankfully located well away from any noises next door—in his loft.
A couple of years back he’d had it converted so that it featured a large window that looked out onto the wooded area at the back of his cottage. It was in front of this window where he placed his piano. Sitting behind that piano for up to eight hours a day meant that a nice view was vital.
The walls were soundproofed with a thick grey carpet-like material and along one side was a recording suite with a sound booth for those rare occasions where he wrote songs for artists with lyrics.
Most of his composing was for TV and radio dramas but he occasionally agreed to compose for the world of popular music if he was in the mood for it. Some of them had even done very well too. He had endless offers from up and coming artists who wanted to work with him on their next hit.
What they didn’t realise was he was practically a recluse - certainly not someone who would ever entertain working with some diva singer who thought they were god’s gift to the music scene.
Oh no. He composed the music, recorded himself signing over the piano, then sent it off to the artist’s manager. He wanted no interaction with these ‘pop stars’ and ‘one hit wonders’ whatsoever.
On a sunny Saturday almost two weeks after arrived he finally caught sight of his new neighbour—well, he was guessing the dark haired twenty something was his neighbour- he was the one that seemed to be greeting all the guests with a bright smile, hugs, and kisses.
Later, Severus noticed, that he was also the one that lit the BBQ. He was also the one who cremated the sausages, which led to a red headed bloke who looked a similar age taking over. Come to think of it, there were a lot of red heads next door at the BBQ - that was a little odd?
He watched his new neighbour become a little tipsy as the afternoon continued. He seemed to smile and laugh a lot. Later... much later, the new neighbour jumped up on the back wall beginning to dance and sing, he assumed - his sound proofing was top of the range. The others seemed to cheer at his antics.
Severus watched with great attention to the quick movements the lad made as he swayed his hips. The image was quite striking, as the sun was setting slowly behind him.
Then suddenly he fell backwards off the wall into the paddock behind. Severus laughed along with the party’s attendees, feeling quite taken by this man next door.
He wondered if he lived alone. Anyone of the others in the garden could be his partner. He seemed particularly close to the red headed girl as well another girl with bushy brown hair and for a moment he considered the red head who had taken over the BBQ but later he saw him leave with the bushy haired girl.
A few days later his godson sauntered into his house as he did a couple of times a month. Draco Malfoy was stunning and a trust fund babe to boot. His father’s family had always been of good stock but since 1955 they’d owned the UKs biggest record label - White Peacock Records. They were multimillionaires.
Draco had gone to Hogwarts School of Music, a small boarding school located in the Scottish Highlands. It was where Severus himself had attended - there he had met Draco’s father, Lucius Malfoy. The man had become his agent after he finished school before he had taken over the record company when his father, Abraxas, retired.
Draco had a less formal career - he was himself a good stage performer. He was often cast in West End shows, though he wasn’t ever cast as the lead - which Severus suspected suited his godson’s schedule just fine - he did manage to bag himself a few small parts. Draco lacked the commitment to a stage career but Severus dutifully went to watch the shows.
Severus was very much of the opinion that Draco’s stage career was seen as a networking opportunity for White Peacock Records - the after-show parties were often held at Malfoy Manor.
Musicians, singers, lyricist, and composers were all waiting to be discovered by record producers - Draco was well placed to find new stars.
“How are you?” Draco bent over to kiss his cheek as he sat at his piano. He allowed only his godson to show him affection - anyone else would be out on their ear.
“Middling.” From him that was good. Draco raised both eyebrows in response, obviously curious. “I’ve almost finished my latest commission and I think it’s one of my best ones yet.”
“That BBC drama? The political one?” Severus nodded in confirmation, beginning to play him a section. “Yes. Certainly, one of your best.” Draco confirmed after he’d finished playing.
“High praise. What do you want?” Severus asked with a raised eyebrow.
Draco’s smile was almost shark-like. “Am I that transparent?”
“You are my godson. I like to think I taught you something while you were growing up.” He pushed himself back from the piano, crossing his arms. “Out with it.”
“Well. You know that I’ve been asking Father for years to let me produce a Christmas EP?” Only since he was about five - yes.
“And your father has quite rightly denied you as the Christmas charts are fickle...” He was interrupted.
“Competitive not fickle. That is beside the point. He has said yes. He’s given me studio time in October to record it ready for release end of November. Plus, he’s given me a budget for a singer, and a composer.” His face was gleeful as if this was the greatest thing in the world.
He cleared his throat. “Your Father is setting you up for a fall. I’d say he’s trying to teach you a lesson.”
“How can I fail with you as my composer?” Draco smiled brightly.
Severus scoffed. “Can you afford me?”
“Absolutely not - but you’ll still do it, won’t you Uncle Sev?” the young man pleaded. Severus just rolled his eyes, while purring out a put-upon breath.
“I suppose you want me to write the lyrics as well as the music for a fraction of what I’m usually paid?”
Draco smiled sincerely. “Yes, but Uncle Severus - I have every faith in your ability to write a brilliant song which will be earning you royalties for years to come.”
*
The day after the visit from Draco, Severus finally met his next door neighbour. He was out in the garden pegging his washing out to dry when he was rather unexpectedly hit on the back of the head with a lightweight football. He glared at the offending item, which was dark blue and seemed to have pictures of cartoon dogs dressed in colourful uniforms.
“My gosh, I’m so sorry.” He turned to see the young dark-haired man standing at the other side of the fence looking quite contrite.
Picking up the ball, he walked over to the fence with it. “I take it this is yours?”
“Not exactly; it’s my godson’s - Teddy,” He gestured behind him, where a sandy-haired child stood, looking a little sheepish. “He’s a little shy.”
The man turned back to him after sending the child a quick yet reassuring smile. Severus was immediately taken by the green eyes that where somewhat hidden behind the glasses - they seemed to shine like a cave of emeralds. What rotten luck that his young neighbour would be as beautiful as this man was. “I have a godson.”
He was sure he could have thought of something more substantial or thought-provoking than ‘I have a godson’ - he blamed those eyes.
The young man didn’t seem to mind. “You do? How old is he? Perhaps we could arrange a play date.”
Severus started wishing that a hole would just open and swallow him whole. “He’s 23.”
The man laughed. “Same age as me? I take it you don’t have the problem of him kicking paw patrol balls at people’s heads, then?” He motioned to the ball which was still in Severus’ hand.
“Not as often these days, no.” He offered the ball back over the fence - the man took it without hesitation, placing it under his arm before sticking his other hand across the fence.
“I’m Harry.”
Severus took his hand without hesitation.
“I’m Severus.” That was it - first name terms. They would have to greet each other every time they saw one another now. It would probably be very awkward, maybe even for years to come.
“I’ll see you around then. Feel free to knock on if you ever run out of sugar or milk.” The man turned back to his godson then - Severus was besotted.
By August they had seen each other another handful of times, when their paths had crossed either on the front of the cottages or the back gardens, when they’d awkwardly exchanged pleasantries. ‘Nice day for it!’ Or ‘have a good one!’ And the like - it set Severus’ teeth on edge every time.
Harry was thankfully a quiet neighbour - a few times Severus had heard what sounded like singing but he couldn’t be sure it was the radio or not. The walls were mercifully thick in these old cottages.
Draco visited again a couple of weeks later, wanting to check on the progress of the song he’d asked Severus to write. He stood by the piano listening but suddenly he slammed his hand down on the piano lid, causing him to stop playing to look at his godson with a frown.
“Oh. My. God.” Draco was looking out of the window craning his neck, causing Severus to turn, trying to see what he was looking at. “Don’t even tell me that that’s your new neighbour.”
He caught sight of the brunet then. He was outside again with his godson but this time they seemed to be digging up a patch of the garden, clearly doing some gardening. “Yes, that’s him. Harry - that’s his godson...”
“Harry bloody Potter as I live and breathe.” Draco laughed maniacally, which only confused Severus more.
“You know him?” Perhaps he was one of Draco’s love interests. His chest tightened at the thought - as much as he loved his godson, he could admit that he wasn’t the kindest partner. His parents had spoiled him as a child.
“You don’t?” Severus just shook his head at that. “Harry Potter is THE west end star of the moment - theatres are absolutely begging to work with him - he’s staring as Marius in Les Mis now. Rumour is he’s going to go on tour West Side Story next year as Tony.”
Draco seemed to be almost vibrating with excitement. “We went to Hogwarts together, of course. He was part of the ‘Golden Trio’ - Granger; a bloody over-achiever who will probably be one of the youngest musical directors in the UK before long, and her boyfriend Weasley: well, he’s a drummer in a rock band; just released their debut album.”
“That’s an impressive set of friends.” Severus conceded.
Draco shrugged. “That’s Hogwarts for you.” Maybe. Severus didn’t keep tabs on those in his year - well. Apart from Lucius.
“You didn’t get on?” he guessed.
“No. They thought I was a stuck-up snob.”
He smirked. “Sounds accurate.”
“Yes well. I’m going to speak to him.” Without so much as a backward glance, Draco flounced off out the room. Severus rolled his eyes. He better save his godson from impending doom.
By the time he got into the garden, the two young men were already engaged in conversation. He reached them quickly. “Draco, don’t bother the neighbours.”
Harry smiled kindly at him, laughing a little. “Don’t worry; I’m used to Draco being a massive pain in the arse.”
“Let bygones be bygones, eh, Potter?” Draco didn’t miss a beat.
“Not something I ever thought I’d heard you say but alright - seems silly to carry on with a schoolboy rivalry.” Harry conceded. Draco had probably been a massive prick in school, then - Lucius had been the same.
“Good. Now that’s settled - Uncle Sev is having a little get together next Sunday; we were just talking about you and thought it only polite we extended an invite.”
That little shit. What was he up to? Harry turned to him expectantly. Well he couldn’t say no now; the man might think he didn’t want him there. “Yes. Nothing too fancy or anything, just a few friends.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll pop round - I have a matinee on Sunday; probably won’t be home until 7pm?”
“We’ll only just be getting started, won’t we, Severus.”
What did his godson want with his next door neighbour? He was sure he’d find soon enough, even if Draco avoided all questioning on the subject before he left that day.
*
On Sunday, Draco arrived at 3pm with some of his ‘entourage’; they tidied the house from top to bottom while Severus stayed locked in his studio.
At 6pm he pushed away from his piano, took a shower, and dressed in a pair of black slacks and a black turtleneck before joining Draco in the kitchen.
It’s had been transformed, of course. The side table now resembled a bar with a lot of champagne and the dining table was full of canapés, cheeses, cured meats, and chocolates. There were even balloon arches and fairy lights.
“I hope you aren’t expecting me to pay for all this?”
Draco laughed. “I’m an influencer - I pay for nothing.”
“Oh yes. I forgot. Dirty stinking rich but still you get everything for free by taking a few pictures of yourself with it.”
Glancing out of the back window, he could see there were more decorations outside. More fairy lights and balloons placed artfully around the garden.
“I hope you’ve invited people. I haven’t” he said a little petulantly,
“I know how to host a party, Uncle Severus.” Draco scoffed.
Draco had of course invited directors, musicians, singers, and dancers. The party was everything Severus hated about the world of arts. His godson was in his element.
Harry arrived just after 7pm, entering the kitchen with two bottles of wine. “I hope you don’t mind. The door was open, and the party seemed a bit loud, so I let myself in.
Severus took the offered bottles, pouring Harry a glass. “No, of course.” After a moment he said, “Don’t ask me to introduce you to anyone. They are ALL Draco's friends.”
Harry laughed. “They look like Draco’s friends.”
“Would you like a tour?” he asked, wanting to get away from the noise for a little while. Being on his own with this green-eyed man would just be a bonus.
Harry smiled gratefully. “Yes, please. I might have a cracker first, though... I’ve not had my dinner!”
Severus passed him a plate. “Here, take a few; you can eat and walk.”
Harry seemed quite interested as he showed him round, commenting on how similar the houses were until they reached the door, which led up to his attic studio. “I don’t have this door.”
“I had the loft renovated.” Severus pulled the door open and motioned for Harry to go up. The man stopped in the centre of the room once up there, turning around, taking it all in.
“It’s a studio!”
“Yes, I’m a composer. I thought Draco might have mentioned.”
“Ha. No, he didn’t. The studio makes sense now.” He walked to the wall where Severus had hung some of his more successful songs in frames that had been gifted to him from the Malfoys. “Wait. You wrote ‘Lay Me Down’?”
“Yes. One of the few I wrote the lyrics for, actually.” Severus confessed. “I think they tweaked a few words at the recording stage but it’s pretty much all my own work.”
“It’s one of my favourites - one of my audition pieces, actually.” Severus raised his eyebrow at Harry’s confession.
“Smith’s range is particularly high. I’m impressed that it’s one of your audition pieces - I assumed you’d use musicals.” He wasn’t overly sure about a musical singer’s repertoire if he was honest.
“Usually. But I have to stand out somehow, don’t I?” It was said in a way that made Severus doubt that Harry knew his own beauty.
“Would you like me to play for you now?” Severus asked, not sure why, other than the fact that he was curious about the man’s voice.
Harry smiled brightly. “I would love that.”
He nodded; walking round to the piano, he counted Harry in. His voice was just as he imagined - flawless, with a beautiful tone. On the second chorus Severus caught his eye before beginning to harmonise with him. It was easy. Harry was easy to play for as well as easy to duet with. The man smiled brightly at him, obviously enjoying the impromptu performance. When the song came to an end, there was clapping from the doorway.
Both men turned in time to see Draco enter the room. “Absolutely beautiful. If only we could convince Harry to work on that Christmas song with you.”
Harry whipped round to look back at Severus with excited green eyes. “Oh, you’re writing a Christmas song?” He was clearly intrigued.
He stood up, stepping away from the piano. Draco’s plan had just become quite apparent to him - he was disappointed in himself for falling straight into his trap. “Apparently. I’m not one hundred percent sold on the idea yet, despite Draco’s insistence.”
“Oh, well, if you need any help, I don’t mind popping up here to hash out a few things with you,” Harry told him sincerely.
Severus could see Draco’s face over Harry’s shoulder. He looked like the cat that had got the milk.
Draco had obviously been planning for Severus to write this song for Harry for days now.
*
“I never thought I’d get you out of that house. It’s been two weeks.” Draco chuckled when Severus sat next to him in a bar in London. It was one of Draco’s favourite haunts, where many of his show friends frequented.
Severus signalled the barman for a drink. “Yes, well, I don’t like being used in your little games, as you well know.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You do! You want Harry to sing on your Christmas song, you’re trying to use me to make that happen.”
Draco smirked. “You got me. If it’s any consolation, Harry Potter was an afterthought. I always wanted you to write it.”
The barman slid two glasses of red wine in front of them, presenting Severus with a card reader. He tapped his card against it, removing it when he heard the familiar beep.
Draco took an envelope out of his pocket. “I’ve got a treat for you.”
“Hand it over. I hope you aren’t grovelling. I hate it when you grovel.” He took the offered envelope, opening it up and taking out two tickets. “Les Mis?”
“I know you’re desperate to see Potter in it.” Draco took a sip, looking more confident now. It was more than annoying that Draco could read him so well.
“Tonight?”
“I’ve organised for a car to take you home, so you don’t have to worry about trains.” He was even preempting his excuses now - Severus had taught him far too well.
He folded his arms. “I’m really not sure what you’re playing at.”
It all became clear after the show, while he was waiting for Draco to get in the car, after he’d made some excuse about seeing someone before they could leave. The door was opened by Harry Potter, who pushed into the seat next to him.
Draco smiled sweetly, sticking his head in. “I’ve bumped into some friends so going to hit the clubs. I saw Harry - told him he might as well get a lift with you instead of the tube.”
“You don’t mind, do you? Saves me a good half an hour,” Harry told him.
Of course, he didn’t mind. In fact it was quite the opposite. “No, of course not.”
“Excellent. Call you tomorrow, Uncle Sev. Night Potter.” With that Draco unceremoniously shut the door, leaving an awkward silence to settle over the backseat.
The driver double checked their destination before closing the glass screen.
Harry looked at him shyly. “So, you saw the show then?”
“Draco bought the tickets.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
Don’t sound too eager, he thought. “Excellent. You’re the best Marius I’ve seen.” Bloody hell.
“High praise. Thank you.”
Change the bloody subject. “You get the tube home?”
“Yes. Not usually home until after eleven; I mean, I don’t mind. That’s the price you pay for living in a quieter suburb like we do,” Harry told him.
Severus nodded in agreement. “To be honest, if I had my way, I’d move even farther away.”
“Does Draco keep you near? You two seem close.”
“I think Draco would follow me about wherever I went - I’m too much of an asset to the family business. It was my parents’ house - I must confess that really I never wanted to go through the stress of selling up,” he continued. “I decided that it was big enough for me.”
Harry looked a little surprised. “That’s strange. Me too.”
“You too?” he asked, confused.
“The house. I inherited it - it caused a huge rift between me and my aunt, but my grandparents left it to me before they died, like 20 years ago. I’m an orphan you see; I think they felt bad.” He inherited it. Potter? Wasn’t that Lily’s married name? “It didn’t transfer over to me until I was 21 - was in a trust until then. My aunt’s been fighting all these years to have it transferred to her.”
This was a surprise. “There was a for sale sign?”
Harry shrugged. “I was going to sell it - buy a flat in the city but then I came to look at it. Well, I saw the garden and just knew it was perfect for Teddy.”
Should he confess to the connection? He should, shouldn't he? “I knew your mother; we were friends. Right up until our teens actually.”
“What?” Harry looked surprised, as if he hadn’t considered that Severus might know the family before.
“Lily. She was your mother, wasn’t she?”
Harry nodded. “I was only a baby when they were killed.”
“I remember. I followed it in the papers.” The Potters had been killed by a drunk driver. He had read that their son had survived but until this day, he hadn’t considered what happened to him. “I’m sorry.”
Harry shrugged. “It was a long time ago. You knew her well?”
“We were the best of friends. We grew apart as we grew up. Our lives simply took different paths - I never forgot her kindness.” Severus admitted this easily and sincerely.
“That’s nice to hear. No one talked much about her when I was growing up. Everyone I met seemed to be Dad’s friend first - it’s nice to finally met one of Mum’s.” Harry smiled wistfully.
“Not even Petunia?” he asked, perplexed.
Harry laughed bitterly. “Well, she did, but I got the impression they weren’t exactly friends.”
“Petunia was always jealous of Lily. When we first met it was on the field behind Smithacres Street...” For the rest of the journey home Severus regaled Harry with several stories about Lily from their childhood; Harry are up every word.
When they pulled up outside their respective homes, they left the car, but Harry hesitated at his gate. “You don’t want to come in for a drink, do you? I’m off tomorrow.”
Severus agreed easily, following him into the cottage. The decoration was plain but fresh. Harry explained that he’d had it all repainted before putting it on the market. The walls were littered with pictures of his godson as well as numerous people his age that his recognised from out in the garden. There were also a couple of older people.
“Your godson?”
“His parents are dead - like mine. That’s why I have him often. His grandmother is elderly,” Harry explained. “When I was a teen, two of my dad’s best friends found me: one was my godfather: they took me in over the summer holidays while school was broken up. My godfather died a couple of years after I met him... had a nasty fall. Remus, Teddy’s dad, he had had a disease since childhood. Finished him off at 36 - five years ago now. Teddy was just born. Tonks, that’s Ted’s mum, she died a few weeks later. She got a massive infection; it was as though she gave up, the grief overwhelmed her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He took a glass of wine that Harry offered him.
“Tragic aren’t we? I’ve come to terms with it all. I just want to offer Teddy the best life possible.“ He took a sip of his wine. “I wanted to ask you something?”
“Ask, then.”
Harry looked a little uncomfortable. “Lay me down. You wrote that about someone you lost, didn’t you?”
Perceptive. “Yes. My partner. Fifteen years ago, now. He killed himself.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve have asked.”
“Why not?” Severus asked. “You’ve told me some of the intimate details of your life - it’s only right that I share mine.”
Harry looked a little melancholy. “Maybe we should discuss happy things then.”
“An excellent idea,” he replied, desperate to see that sparkle back on Harry’s face.
*
By the end of October, Severus had found a huge fault in Harry Potter. He was far too easy to love.
He’d fallen for the much younger man embarrassingly quickly. What a wretch it made him feel – a man twenty years his senior pining after a fit, young musical star.
They had ended up working together very closely. Harry would pop up to his studio once or twice a week to listen to the developments, make suggestions or even sing a little bit of the melody. They would often sit together afterwards in the living room talking, drinking wine, often laughing.
He was beautiful, intelligent, talented. Severus loved him fiercely for it.
The first week of November, Draco caught them going over the song together, sneaky bastard that he was.
“Well, I have to say. Better than I even thought it would be.” Draco surveyed them. “I’ve booked the studio for the whole weekend. Is it ready?”
After a moment he nodded. “I’m happy with it.”
Harry agreed, too. “I don’t think there’s anything else we can do to improve it.”
“Excellent. Let’s go out for tea to celebrate then. My treat, of course.”
Severus scoffed. “On the company credit card.”
Draco smirked. “Needs must. You up for it, Potter? I have a car outside and I know the best restaurant.”
“Should I change?” Harry asked.
“Yes.” The blond didn’t even spare a glance at him. Harry looked perfect as he was which Draco probably knew. He just enjoyed being difficult.
“You look fine as you are,” Severus reassured him.
Harry stood up. “It’s ok, I’ll change. I’ll meet you at the car in ten.”
Draco didn’t watch him go - too busy watching Severus. “Oh goodness. Please don’t tell me my stoic godfather developed some sort of attachment to another human.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He’d known Draco was playing games from the start; he wasn’t dense.
“I didn’t want you to fall in love with the talent,” he hissed back.
Severus looked away, almost ashamed that he’d been caught out. “Leave it alone. For once Draco.”
“I won’t do anything to jeopardise this track. I hope the same can be said of you.” Steely eyes narrowed on him in warning. Not that Severus had any real designs on Harry - he knew the young man could never love him.
•
The track was released the last week of November but if either of them thought they were going to get any respite they were mistaken. Draco seemed to text them through live performances left, right, and centre.
Harry had just finished Les Mis a couple of weeks previously - though they had asked him to renew his contract in February he hadn’t made any solid decisions on his future yet.
He was in need of a break and the opportunity to spend a little more time with Harry.
He wasn’t going to get much of a break if Draco had his way. Every time that Harry checked his phone there was a new performance or appearance booked into his diary. Severus was livid - he made no attempt to hide his feelings either.
He complained repeatedly that at no point had he agreed to perform and promote the single, but Draco kept telling him they couldn’t afford a piano player, so he’d have to do it. Harry couldn’t help but giggle every time Severus brought it up.
Their first event wasn’t too bad. They had been booked as one of the acts for the Christmas light switch on in the west end. Harry was comfortable enough with that and Severus seemed calm, too, about the performance.
Draco and Severus got in an argument beforehand, as the blond wanted his godfather to wear something a little more festive than black. The man refused, performing in a black turtle neck with a black jacket over the top. Harry wore a cream V-neck sweater and green chinos - Draco had sent a few outfits round for his performances; he could only assume he’d done the same to his neighbour.
“I think Severus looks nice,” Harry interrupted.
“Black isn’t very ‘Christmassy’ is it, Potter?” Draco fumed. Harry assumed he was just as nervous as they were, which led to him being a bit of a knob.
“Yes, well, Severus doesn’t exactly scream Christmas, does he?”
Harry rolled his eyes in the blond’s direction. “Still wrote a Christmas song, didn’t he?”
Severus crossed his arms, tapping his foot. “No one told me I would be performing said song.” He moved a little closer to Harry. “Now I go on like this or not at all.”
The blond sighed, then picked up a Christmas hat from the sound table. Harry laughed. “Draco, just leave it.”
Draco did leave it and the performance was so successful that they had five bookings the next day – including their first TV booking. Severus seemed particularly bitter about that – It was one of the Sunday cooking shows and they were on during the credits, which wasn’t too trying. Severus of course treated the entire thing with contempt, which Harry found hilarious; he bought him lunch afterwards to try and cheer him up.
Between their starter and mains Severus, cleared his throat. “You know it’s not that I don’t like performing with you, that is a pleasure, I just dislike the…”
Harry laughed. “The attention. I know, I get it.”
“Seriously, I would play for you whenever – I’d write you a hundred songs. Your voice is stunning. I could listen to it every day.” Severus looked a little embarrassed by his confession.
“Woah – maybe you should hold back on the wine,” he told him playfully. The man was an enigma. Truly.
The next week they were the musical guests on the Graham Norton show - Harry couldn’t contain himself. They got a car together down into the centre of London.
“Severus, this is big. I mean they are actually thinking that we might be number one... at Christmas.”
Severus wore a black shirt and slacks this time, while Draco had upped his game and had Harry in a green velvet suit and black shirt. After the rehearsal, the show’s executives had taken them off to the green room, asking them about their song and writing down their answer before leaving.
Half an hour later they had returned and asked if Severus would mind accompanying Harry to the sofa after they had performed- Harry smiled reassuringly and Severus agreed.
Their performance was smooth, then they both went over to the sofa, where they sat with stars of both film and TV. The crowd applauded loudly and he could see Draco stood off camera with both his thumbs up.
“So, Harry, we know all about you, but Severus wrote this song and we all know so little about your work, yet you’ve written a number of hit songs in the worlds of both popular music and film soundtracks,” Graham said.
Severus looked a little uncomfortable, so Harry patted his leg encouragingly. “Well, the truth is I write these songs for others. I never usually get to perform them. Working with Harry I’d such a privilege - one I couldn’t turn down.”
The audience and other guests awwwed. Draco looked over the moon. “And Harry? How is it for you to work with such an accomplished song writer?”
“It’s brilliant. When I first realised who Severus was... we are neighbours you see... it would have been remiss of me to turn down the chance to work with him.”
“Well, we all love it and we hope it’s going to get to number one this Christmas.”
Later, Draco was almost bouncing. He took them to a club owned by his father. When they arrived, the press were stood outside snapping their pictures as they entered. Harry got legless. Completely so. They had a few days off and it had been months since he’d last had a couple days off.
Severus had watched him carefully all night, while staying firmly seated in the VIP area. He’d watched Harry get drunk, dance drunk, fall over; he’d even followed him to the toilets when he’d gone to be sick.
“I’ve asked Draco to call a car for us.”
“Sev’rus - I’m fine. Sound as a pound.” Though he clutched the sink as he said it.
The dark-haired man grabbed Harry, putting an arm around his shoulder guiding him out of the club. “Your allowed to have a good time Harry.” He told him shuffling him into the black car outside.
The episode was aired on the Friday night. They watched it together at Harry’s with Teddy safely tucked up in bed asleep. Draco had texted him to tell him to look on Twitter. The song was trending, most people complimenting them and saying what a great pair they made. They wanted to hear more from the two.
The day after they were in every single gossip column. A picture of Severus guiding him out the club and into the car together; it seemed that every rag in the country had assumed that they were a couple.
*
Severus was mortified.
Draco - his traitor of a godson - had told some gossip to EVERYONE to think he and Harry were a couple.
He was under no illusions that the press had not come up with that themselves. Draco had planted the idea. He’d made sure the press were there to take pictures of their exit the other night. This was all by design.
His feelings for Draco were somewhere between proud and livid. Harry didn’t seem to have a clue that this had all been manufactured.
“It’s selling records. I mean we have only got 10 days to go. Can you keep it up until then? Twenty-third of December and it will be worth it.”
Severus just glared. “You’re a sly devil...Draco.”
“Why, thank you. You know I learnt from the best.” He smiled.
Severus rolled his eyes. “Which is the only reason I’m now throwing you out right now.”
Draco's insistence on their looking like a couple was intense. He’d shout at them for walking too far apart. After performances, he made Severus get up and stand with Harry with his arm round his shoulder. For Severus it was excruciating.
After their final booking in 22nd, they were whisked off to an extravagant party at Draco’s parents’ manor.
“He lives here?” Harry whispered when they arrived.
Severus rolled his eyes. “Try not to look impressed, it will give him the wrong idea.”
“Alright.” Harry laughed in response, linking arms with Severus as they walked up the front steps. “I’ll pretend not to notice.”
“Wise.” Severus spotted Lucius and guided Harry over. “Lucius Malfoy, I’m not sure you’ve met Harry Potter.”
Lucius was one of his oldest friends, but he loved teasing him just as much as Draco. He was under no illusion that he would escape that. “Ah, your new beau, Severus. I’ve been so looking forwarding to seeing for myself what could have possibly have finally turned your head.”
Severus glared. “I’m sure you and Draco had a good laugh at my expenses when you made up that story.”
His friend smiled as though he had predicted that response. “You’ll be happy to know that Draco remained valiantly loyal to you and refused to send that tidbit. Unfortunately, I’d kept the press release on my desk and my PA sent it out by mistake.”
No mistake about it. Lucius had planned the whole thing – even worse, that he knew that Harry was just Severus’ type. “It doesn’t bother me.”
Severus turned to Harry, surprised. They hadn’t actually discussed the articles that had cropped up on the internet this morning. “Sorry?”
Harry cleared his throat. “It doesn’t bother me that people think we are together. I’d be lucky to have a man like you interested.”
Severus stared, perplexed. Why would a bright young thing like Harry believe he’d be lucky to have an old grump like him interested. He turned to Lucius; he looked as though he was struggling to contain his glee at the change in direction at Harry’s confession. He raised one eyebrow, challenging Severus to answer. Damn him. “Harry, don’t be ridiculous, you’d be a treasure for any man.”
The younger man blushed pleasantly. “They haven’t exactly been queuing up, have they?”
He was surprised. He assumed that Harry would have an endless supply of young, fit men that wanted to date him. Lucius gave him a pointed looked but Severus just narrowed his eyes at him.
Lucius seemed to take pity on him then, changing the subject. “Draco is quite nervous about tomorrow. He seems to think his entire career rides on this song getting to number one. The board will ecstatic if it makes it to the top ten… there’s already been talk of him getting a position on the executive.”
“I take it he knows none of this.” Lucius had always had high standards for Draco.
“He might stop putting the effort in if I tell him the whole truth.” The man chuckled before nodding behind him at Draco, who was approaching at speed.
“What are you two doing?” he fumed. “Get on to the stage; I’ve organised for a live broadcast across Harry’s social media channels.”
Severus was about to complain when Harry spoke. “Draco, that’s enough. You keep making me sing this damn song 40 times a day and I’ll have no voice left. I thought we’d come here to socialise not perform to your desk.”
Draco held his hands up. “I’m sorry, Ok, I’m sorry. This is it, though. The last time you have to perform it… this year. After tonight you can have a week off, I promise.”
“A week?” Harry asked, confused. Severus was suffering from the same look of confusion.
Draco glanced at his father over their shoulders. “Slip of the tongue. Now please will you do this one last performance.”
They agreed, of course. The performance went without a hitch… the views even reached a million on Facebook before the night was over. Severus had never seen Draco as excited. They were both quiet in the car home, a little tired from the last few days; they paused at their respective gates.
“Good night, Severus.”
“Good night, Harry.”
*
On the 23rd they piled into Severus’ house before the start of the chart show. Draco had again catered the event, which was good, as he was in no mood to play host. Severus actually sat in his living room on the sofa, letting the others enjoy the merriment around him. Harry dutifully joined him on the sofa, being his usual pleasant self.
His friends and godson were there, too. His godson’s grandmother was there. She seemed to be keeping the boy in check and mentioned several times that they were going home to bed as soon as they learnt the chart position.
They radio was blasting out on different devices across the downstairs rooms... not completely in sync, which was slightly annoying. When they started playing the top ten, the mood was palpable, as this could mean two things... they’d either got to the top ten or they weren’t even in the top 40.
The house was much more subdued now, with Draco bouncing nervously from foot to foot. Just after they started playing the track at number three, Draco’s phone rang. He answered, nodding solemnly before placing the phone on loudspeaker on the coffee table nearest to Harry and Severus.
He quieted the room’s other inhabitants, asking people to turn their radios down for a moment. “It’s Radio One. They want to speak to Harry; we all need to be quiet.”
“Hi Harry, it’s one of the producers here. You’re going live through to the studio in about ten seconds. Keep listening and Scott will bring you in.”
The room was again filled with the sounds of the last track but as the song ended the voice of Scott Mills came loud and clear through the phone’s speakers.
“Now, this is it listeners. We know so many of you have been texting in saying you really hope Harry Potter gets Christmas number one. He’s here on the phone. Harry, you alright, Mate?”
“Great, thanks, Scott.” He looked up at Draco who gave him the thumbs up. He hadn’t exactly mentioned to them that they would be live on the radio.
“And is Severus there with you?” Harry elbowed him.
“Yes, I’m here too Scott.” He rolled his eyes at Draco, still disliking the spectacle being made of them.
“Brilliant. I know how hard you two have worked and we are about to reveal whether you are in the top spot or whether you are number two.” Harry grabbed his hand. “Sorry, my producer’s just bringing it over in a gold glittery envelope. Here we go... I can now reveal the artist at number one this week is... sorry this envelope stuck like glue... it is... Harry it’s you!!! You’re Christmas number one!”
There was an almighty shout and Severus didn’t even hear if they were asked any other questions before they were suddenly hearing their song playing back. The whole room cheered, singing along. Harry didn’t let go of his hand.
They had done it: Christmas number one.
Later, when most of the guests had left, and it was a couple of Harry’s friends along with his blond haired godson - Draco pulled them outside.
“Listen. My father and I have been talking. It seems a shame not to build on this success. We want to offer you an album contract. Both of you - so you’ll write and perform the songs together. It’s a good offer, more than you’re both getting paid currently; you have 9 months to write and record and then three months promoting. If it’s a success we can discuss a tour the year after.” He handed them over a large Manila envelope each, which presumably contained the contacts. “I’ll give you a week to decide. I know this isn’t what either of you set out to do but I think we have such an opportunity to make amazing music.”
“You’ll be our manager?” Harry asked, fingering the paperwork.
Draco laughed. “Of course. You need someone to keep you in line. I’m going to go now...hit the clubs. I’ll be back next week.”
He could hear calls of goodbyes from inside. He turned to Harry. “I’m not accustomed to working with others.”
The man laughed sharply; “No – I gathered that much. But… we do work well, together don’t we? I could certainly put up with your bad moods; plus, I could team up with you to keep Draco from getting too… excited.”
“You think you could put up with me for a year?” It surprised Severus to hear this - he knew he could be a hard person to work with, especially for someone as pleasant as Harry, who he personally thought deserved to be surrounded by equally pleasant people, who would encourage his talents. Not… well, him.
Harry stepped forwards, crunching the freshly fallen snow beneath his feet. “You judge yourself too harshly Severus; I think you’re brilliant.”
He shook his head, amazed again by Harry’s kindness and faith. “You won’t be saying that in 18 months’ time when you’re stuck with me on tour.”
“I think…” Harry appeared nervous then but took another step forward. “I think that I’d love to be stuck with you for a very long time.”
Then, quite unexpectedly, Harry Potter kissed him. Severus was so surprised that he just stood there, stock still, trying to understand how they had come to that moment.
It was over as quickly as it had begun, ending when Harry stepped back. He was blushing again, which made Severus want to grab him and pull him back for another kiss. He didn’t, though.
“Yeah, so, that’s where I am on this. It’s in your court – just – just let me know. You know where I live, right?” He laughed then. “I’m going to go now.”
Then he left, and Severus let him.
*
Severus Snape was a coward and he knew it.
For the next two days Severus stalked round his cottage in a state of disbelief and fear.
Why had he let Harry go? He should have grabbed him and snogged him silly; the man probably thought he didn’t want him – which couldn’t be further from the truth.
Though he’d come to accept that his hesitation came from his own feelings of unworthiness. He’d worked this out last night when he’d given in, calling his oldest friend, Lucius, who had laughed as if he’d been let in on a great game before telling Severus he was being ridiculous. He seemed to think it was clear that Harry held a torch for him from the moment he met him.
He then told him he was a lucky sod and not to let the man slip away.
Was it already too late? Did Harry think he wasn’t interested?
He glanced at the carefully wrapped present on the table. It was 2pm on Christmas day and he’d been contemplating taking it round for hours. Harry had a houseful, he knew, but he had to let go of his own holdbacks and embrace his true feelings.
With one final sip of his Christmas brandy, he picked up the present and left his house.
He could hear laughter and music from behind his neighbour’s door as he knocked. Luckily, Harry was the one to answer.
He was pleasantly flushed, wearing a garish Christmas jumper – he looked surprised to see Severus. “Oh, hi.”
“Hello.” He nodded in greeting but didn’t say any more.
“Erm… do you want to come inside?” He didn’t particularly want this conversation inside where Harry’s friends could hear them – the man seemed to realise this at once. “Or I could come out there?”
Severus nodded, so Harry stepped out onto the snowy pathway, pulling the door shut behind him. “Harry…”
“I’ve made a prat of myself, haven’t I?” Severus heart gave a dreadful thud when the younger man placed his face in his hands. He couldn’t stop himself from stepping forwards to pry them away.
“I’m the one whose been the prat, leaving you even for a second to wonder if the feelings were returned.” He didn’t hesitate to kiss Harry then – to his delight, the man kissed him right back.
They broke away after a minute or so. “Right, so, you want to come in?” Harry giggled, the sparks back in his bright green eyes.
“I would love nothing more.” He reached in his pocket, pulling out the Christmas gift. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”
“Merry Christmas, Severus.” Harry took the present and then his hand, leading him through the cottage door with smiles firmly fixed on their faces.
Here was to the album, the tour, their future.