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Harry sat at the table in the corner of Severus' kitchen, wrapped around a mug of tea. It was late autumn now, and the stickiness of summer had gone, giving way to misty mornings, creeping fog, and dark mornings. The light over to the stove glowed a golden yellow in the early morning gloom.
Harry always woke early, and he'd come to cherish these brief, quiet moments before dawn. Severus joined him at the quarter past seven, sleepy eyes and rumpled; he shuffled into the kitchen, grunted in greeting, and readily accepted the waiting mug of tea.
At first, the silence of the mornings here put Harry on edge, like it was up to him to break the silence, to keep it from dragging on and on, but he'd learn to appreciate it, and now he'd miss it if it were gone.
The quiet lasted until the post owl arrived in a flurry of feathers and an insistent tapping on the kitchen window. The glace Severus sent toward the ball of feathers could have shattered glass, and Harry took pity on them both and went to let in the pitiful creature and pay for the paper.
The owl landed on his arm and hooted cheerfully, ruffling its feathers before it was off, flitting back out the window and back to whence it came.
Harry didn't often bother with the paper and tossed it on the table. Severus would read it over breakfast once he'd had his tea and resembled something more of the human.
"How's eggs this morning?" Harry asked while rifling through the fridge.
"Hm," said Severus, which Harry knew from experience translated to yes. It didn't take him long to cobble together an acceptable brekkie.
"You're out of eggs," said Harry, cracking the last three eggs into a pan.
"We'll go to the shops this afternoon," replied Severus, finally having resumed the ability to speak.
He reached across the table for the paper and opened it, slowly flicking through the pages.
Harry finished their eggs, plated them, and set them on the table. Before he could sit to eat, Severus made a low, surprised noise and set the paper down with a bang.
Harry skirted the table, looking over Severus' shoulder.
"What sort of rubbish are they printing now?" he asked.
Once he got a look at the paper, it was obvious what sort of rubbish they were printing. Someone had taken a photo of the two of them. From the looks of it, it had been last weekend when they'd gone to dinner in Clerkenwell.
While it wasn't a damning photo, Severus had his hand on the small of Harry's back. They were lucky in that regard; after all, it could have been from two hours later once they'd finished dinner, and Harry, having had one too many drinks, had happily snogged Severus in front of the restaurant for as long as Severus let him get away with it.
A horrible tight knot formed in Harry's chest, twisting so tight he could hardly breathe. He'd dreaded this. He'd often had nightmares about this little fragile feeling life he'd started to build with Severus would get splashed all over the front page, and then it would shatter, and Harry would be left all alone.
And now that nightmare had come true. Maybe they hadn't ended up on the front page this time, but now people would be watching, and it would be a matter of time.
Harry's hand tightened around the back of Severus' chair, his knuckling going white. This was the end, wasn't it?
All the sweet, quiet moments of eating breakfast together before dawn would be no more.
"Are you alright?" Asked Severus.
Harry didn't answer, couldn't answer; all he could do was hold on to the chair and try not to panic.
Severus leaned forward, closing the paper with a flourish, and with a muttered "evanesco" it vanished.
"It's nothing to concern yourself with," he said tersely and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, pulling him close. "You should eat your breakfast. It's going to get cold, and we've got to be off within the hour. You know how the shops get on a Sunday- utterly unbearable ."
Harry nodded stiffly and toddled back to his seat. There, he sat staring at his eggs for long enough that Severus gently laid his hand on Harry's, his thumb rubbing gentle circles.
"Eat your breakfast," he said, "you have nothing to worry about; everything is going to be alright."
"Promise?" Harry asked softly.
Severus nodded and sipped his coffee. The quiet settled over the kitchen in Spinner's End, and Severus was right; there was nothing to worry about, and everything was alright.