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As nine o’clock struck, and the sign on the door automatically switched from ‘closed’ to ‘open’, Harry smiled to himself. The Christmas holidays were upon them, which meant that business was likely to be booming.
At twenty-four years old, Harry was very satisfied with his life, and he was so glad that he hadn’t followed the path laid out for him into the Auror department. He couldn’t imagine how he would feel now, had he continued fighting after spending most of his childhood doing so.
The door to the shop swung open, and Harry nodded professionally, his grin settling into a gentler smile, so as not to scare away his first customer of the day.
Christmas—and perhaps more importantly, New Year's Eve—was a brilliant time of year for him.
“Hello, sir, what can I help you with today?” he asked politely.
The man was new, and he looked rather nervous.
“I was told, ah, that this was the place to come to for a, uh, for a date?”
“Certainly, sir. If you’ll just fill out this form, I’ll take a look over it and see what we can do for you.”
“Harry smiled kindly as he handed over the form, and he gestured to the sitting area, where there were quills, inkpots, and even Muggle pens. As the man took a seat, the door opened again.
This time it wasn’t a customer. Instead, Draco came through into the shop, a sheepish look on his face.
“You realise, I suppose, that this is the third time this week that you’ve been late, and we’re only on Thursday, right?” Harry asked, conversationally, as Draco took his coat and scarf off, and hung them up on his usual hook.
“It’s only ten minutes.”
“And yesterday, it was twenty minutes, and on Monday, it was forty five minutes. Really, Draco, you’re a wizard and you’re perfectly capable of Apparating. You have no excuse for being late.”
“Yes, boss,” Draco snorted, wrinkling his nose.
Harry laughed, rolling his eyes as he threw a scrunched up ball of parchment at him. They were the epitome of professionality, clearly.
Draco had worked for Harry for almost two years, and he was very good at his job. When Harry had first had the idea for the business, Draco had been one of the only people to support him.
Many of Harry’s friends had been disgusted by the idea of a ‘dating’ service, and even though Harry had tried and tried to explain that he really wasn’t planning to run a brothel, a lot of them had turned their backs on him.
AccioDate, as Harry had decided to call his business, was purely a dating service. Harry had very strict rules in place for the people who worked for him, and the most important rule was, and had always been, ‘do not sleep with the clients.’
Should one of his staff break that rule, it let to an instant dismissal for them, and the client was immediately blacklisted from hiring services from AccioDate.
When he first opened, there were people, staff and clients alike, who—like Harry’s friends—had thought that they could get around the rules and use the business for inappropriate practices, but they were sadly mistaken.
Harry did monthly Veritaserum checks on his staff, to ensure that they were staying honest and above board.
When the Wizarding World realised that, no, Harry Potter wasn’t running a brothel, his friends had come back with their tails between their legs, full of apologies. Harry had accepted the apologies graciously, before turning away from them and getting happily on with his life. He still spoke to them on occasion, but he doubted he would ever be close with any of them.
He had a close knit group of friends—Hermione, Neville, Draco, and the Weasley Twins—and he was happy with that. He didn’t need to be surrounded by people to feel loved and appreciated.
The five of them had been right there with Harry for the last three years as his business had grown, and he had no doubt that they would be there with him for many years into the future.
The customer who’d seated himself finished filling in the form, and he approached the counter, handing the completed form back to Harry. Harry took it with a small smile and glanced over it.
“Christmas Eve, and New Year’s Eve,” Harry murmured, as he took notice of the man’s names, and his preferences. “Would you prefer to have the same date for both occasions, Mr Jones?”
“Yes, please.”
“Draco?” Harry called through to the back, where the blond had disappeared to make coffee.
“What?”
“C’mere a second.”
Draco came back, holding two steaming mugs of coffee, one of which he handed to Harry.
“Can you take Mr Jones here through to the back, and show him the photos and bio’s of Mandy and Amelia, please?” Harry said, handing the form over to Draco, before he turned back to Mr Jones.
“Draco will show you the profiles of the two women I believe fit your requests the best, and you can decide which one you prefer. If you’d like to meet them, before you make your decision, just tell Draco and we can try and arrange something for either this afternoon, or tomorrow.”
Mr Jones nodded, and Draco gestured for the man to follow him as he led the way to the back room.
Harry sat down behind the counter, pulling out his client file. Opening up a new page, he put the form he had duplicated from Mr Jones inside, ready in case Mr Jones decided on a return trip. It was always helpful to have them ready, so that the forms weren’t necessary every time. Picking his cup back up, he sat back to enjoy it.
Draco always made the best coffee.
The bell above the door rang again, and Harry looked up to see Hermione coming through the door.
“Hey, you,” Harry said, leaning over the counter to kiss her cheek in greeting. “What are you doing here?”
“Here on business today, love. A new client for you. He requested to see you, specifically.”
“How did you end up playing courier?” Harry asked, taking the form she handed him. “And why is there no name on this? Come on, Hermione, you know better than this.”
“I offered,” she replied. “And there’s no name because he doesn’t want you to know who he is.”
Harry frowned. “I don’t take clients on personally anymore, Hermione.”
“Please, Harry? Trust me, you’ll enjoy yourself.”
“Where, and when?” he asked, sighing heavily. He just couldn’t tell her no very often.
Hermione cringed slightly. “Tonight, at the Leaky Cauldron.”
“Tonight?” Harry exclaimed.
“Please?”
The puppy dog eyes never failed to work on Harry, and he found himself softening again, nodding his head wearily.
“No more, Hermione. After this, I’ll not take on any more clients personally, so don’t ask.”
With a squeal, she hugged him.
“You won’t regret it, Harry, I promise. Half past seven, alright?”
“Alright.”
“Call me after?”
“I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow, instead?” he offered. “I’ll meet you at the castle at eight.”
With a nod and a wave, Hermione was gone, and Harry let his head fall until his chin hit his chest. A groan escaped him.
“What’s up?” Draco asked, as he came back into the main shop area, Mr Jones following behind him.
“Later,” Harry murmured. He smiled at their newest client. “Mr Jones, did you make a decision?” he asked.
“I’d like to hire Amelia, for both occasions, please.”
“Not a problem. Please read this contract, and then sign here, here and here, if you agree to our terms and conditions,” Harry said, pulling out the contract. He pointed out the lines that needed to be signed, and then waited patiently for Mr Jones to read through the contact.
When he’d signed his name on the specified lines, Harry took it back from him, and quickly arranged to contact him on the twenty third, to arrange the finer details.
The man left the shop with a new spring in his step.
“So, what’s up?” Draco repeated, when they were alone. He pulled himself graciously up onto the counter. Harry slapped his leg, but handed over the form that Hermione had delivered.
“There’s no name,” Draco muttered, and Harry nodded.
“I know. That’s what I said, but you know Hermione. She always gets her own way with me.”
Draco chuckled. “I’ll come to your flat when we close up and help you get ready if you want?”
Harry nodded. “Thanks.” He let out another groan and let his head fall to the desk. “I really don’t want to do this.”
…
Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron at twenty past seven, weaving through the other patrons to get to the bar.
“Hey, Hannah,” he greeted, smiling at his old schoolmate. “How are you?”
“Harry!” she replied, exuberantly. “I’m good, how are you?!”
“I’m doing great. Can I have… I think I’ll stick with wine tonight. Elf-made?”
“Of course,” she agreed. “I’ll set up a tab?”
He nodded. “Sure, thanks, hun.”
She handed him the glass, and he perched himself on a stool, chatting to her about the pub, and how well it had been going since she’d taken over just eight months previous.
When she was pulled away by another customer, Harry glanced around the bar, wondering if any of them were his mystery date. As he sat pondering why it had to be so hush-hush, he felt a familiar presence behind him, followed shortly by the tip of a wand being pressed into his back.
Reaching a hand behind himself, Harry muttered quietly, “Either remove your wand from my back, or I’ll snap it.”
“And here I thought that you would be happy to see me, Harry,” Severus said, as he moved from behind Harry to sit on the stool beside him. “I’m glad to see that you can still look after yourself.”
Harry tilted his head, staring at Severus for a moment, before he arched his eyebrow. With a wry smile, he said, “I do hope you aren’t the client that Hermione arranged for me to see, Severus.”
“Hmm. Why is that?”
“Because you needn’t have gone through so much trouble. You know that I always have time for you,” Harry replied, the last sentence spoken so softly, Severus almost missed it.
Ordering another drink for himself, and a firewhiskey for Severus, Harry gestured to one of the empty booths.
“Shall we?”
“By all means.”
Once they were seated comfortably, Harry glanced at Severus.
“Why are we here?” he asked, half curious, half concerned.
“Because I hired you to be here,” Severus replied, a sneer in his words.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Severus, if you’re here to play games, I’m just going to leave now and save us both the trauma. You know that I don’t personally take clients any more.”
“Then why are you here?” Severus asked.
“A favour for Hermione, which you know, because that’s why you asked her. I can assure you, I’ll be talking to her about this. You only booked to see if I would come, didn’t you?”
“If I did?”
“Then I suppose it proves that you were right to break up with me three years ago. Good night, Severus.”
Harry walked away from the booth, refusing to let the tears in his eyes drop to his cheeks. He knew that Severus was following him, but with the bar as full as it was, there was no way he could cast a shield on his back.
Knowing that Hannah wouldn’t mind if he caught up with her next time to pay out his tab, Harry exited the bar and Apparated away quickly, only hearing the beginning of his name coming from Severus before he was gone.
…
“Why would you send me there to meet him, Hermione?” Harry asked, frowning at her through the flames. She had tried multiple times to apologise, but it was doing nothing to calm him. “You knew how badly it affected me when he left me, and you know how I still feel about him.”
“Harry, I’m sorry. He said that he wanted to apologise to you, that he still loves you. I thought that it would make you happy! I wouldn’t have—”
“Look, I…” Harry shook his head as best he could through the floo. “I’ll take you to dinner next week, instead of tomorrow night, okay? I love you, Hermione, but I’m really annoyed at you right now. Good night.”
He pulled back through the floo before she could reply, and closed it to visitors. Slumping onto the chair in front of the fireplace, Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
Maybe it was time for a holiday.
…
Draco was waiting for him the following morning, when he arrived at work. Harry chuckled.
“See, you can be on time when you want to be,” he said, taking his coat off and turning up the heat in the shop a little. Draco handed him a coffee, and they settled down in front of the till, just as the clock struck nine and the sign changed.
“Hermione floo-called me last night,” Draco said, his tone softer than usual.
Harry winced.
“She told me what happened,” Draco added.
“Yeah. I really don’t want to talk about it,” Harry admitted.
“I’m here though. You know, if you change your mind.”
Harry smiled. He stood up, patting Draco on the shoulder. “Thanks.”
The bell tinkled, and Harry felt the blood fall from his face as Severus walked into the shop.
“I’ll be in the back if you need me. Try not to need me,” Harry whispered to Draco, walking into the back of the shop.
“I want to see Harry,” he heard Severus say.
“He doesn’t want to speak to you, Severus, so unless you’re here to book a date, you need to leave.”
“Fine. I’ll book a date with Harry.”
“Harry doesn’t take clients any longer. He hasn’t done it for a while now.”
Harry heard the door again, and he winced when he heard another familiar voice. He would have to go back out to the front of the shop now, he couldn’t leave Draco to deal with Severus and Mr Wilkes by himself.
Mr Wilkes was one of the most awkward customers they had, and Draco had sworn after the last time he’d been in that he would never deal with him again.
Bracing himself, Harry walked back out to the front of the shop.
“Ah, Mr Wilkes, what can I help you with today?” he asked, ignoring Severus, as he moved to stand beside Draco.
“Harry, I need to—”
“Excuse me, Mr Snape,” Harry said, frowning slightly. “Mr Malfoy here can see about any dates that you would like to request. Now, Mr Wilkes, how about we go through to the back and you can take another look through our profiles. There may be someone new for you?”
With a nod, Mr Wilkes led the way through to the back room, Harry following behind him. He glanced back at Draco, who was now staring stonily at Severus, and he smiled slightly.
No matter how much they bickered, Draco was a damn good friend.
Forty five minutes later, and completely irritated, Harry showed Mr Wilkes back through to the main shop, surprised to see that Severus was still there, sitting in the area they used for clients to sit and fill in forms.
Harry sighed. Once Mr Wilkes had left—sans any plans for a date—Harry turned to Severus.
“Well, Mr Snape? Have you filled the form in?”
Severus looked puzzled for a moment, before recognition settled in and he scowled. “You think that I’m here to book a date?”
“The only reason you have to be in my shop is to book a date, so either fill out a form, or get out.”
“Harry, we need to—”
“No. We really don’t. You need to fill out a form, or leave.”
“Fine, give me the form, then.”
Draco handed over the form, and Severus settled himself back down to fill it out. When he finished, he purposefully handed it back directly into Harry’s hand.
Harry read it over, snorted, and looked back at Severus. He handed the form over to Draco.
“Mr Snape, if you’d like to follow Draco into the back room, he’ll show you the photos and bios of the people who best match your tastes.”
Draco gestured for Severus to follow him, and looked back down at the form.
Name: Severus Snape
Time/Date of Request: Every day and every night for the rest of my life.
Preferred Age Range: 24-24
Preferred Eye Colour - Emerald Green
Preferred Hair Colour - Black
The form continued in the same vein, describing Harry perfectly. Pulling the book out, Draco took a seat and waved his hand for Severus to join him at the small table. Flipping through the book, he paused on one of the last few pages.
“This is Andrew Phifer. He’s twenty four years old, he had black hair, and green eyes, as you can see. He’s a qualified Defence instructor, he takes an interest in politics though he had no aspirations to join them, and he scored an O in his Potions N.E.W.T. Based on your form, he would be perfect for you, though the time request might be a stretch, considering company rules.”
Severus rolled his eyes. “Draco, you know full well that I don’t want to date any of these people. Just show me Harry’s profile so that I can choose it.”
“Harry doesn’t have a profile, Severus, because he doesn’t take clients. He only did it at the start because he needed to get a decent clientele base. It’s been ages since he’s needed to do it.”
“He was telling the truth? I mean, before we broke up. I thought that he was… well. I thought that it was an excuse for him to cheat on me. That’s why I ended things in the first place.”
Draco shrugged lightly. “I don’t know what to tell you, Severus. Harry hasn’t been on a date for a long time now, and even when asked, he always declines. The only reason he took the form for the date with you last night was because it was Hermione that brought it in. He thought that she was setting him up on a real date.”
“I made such an arse of it all, last night. When I asked Miss Granger to arrange the date for me with him, I wanted to sort everything out. I wanted to start over, but… when he actually met me through the business, I thought that it meant he’d been lying to me about not doing the dates as soon as he was established.
“You should go and apologise then. He’s been listening since we came in here, so I’m fairly sure that he might hear you out this time.”
…
Harry sat wide-eyed at the counter as he listened to Severus pouring his heart out to Draco. He didn’t know what to do. He knew that he still loved Severus—how could he not—but he’d truly believed them to be over.
Did he want to be with him again? Of course he did. That was a no brainer. But was it really worth the chance of getting hurt again?
That was the question that Harry didn’t have an answer for.
Severus and Draco came back through to the main shop, and Draco left, telling Harry that he would be back in twenty minutes with something for them to snack on.
Harry knew that meant he was going down to the bakery at the end of the row to flirt with Astoria Greengrass for a while, but since Harry would undoubtedly get wonderful baked goods out of it, he couldn’t be mad about it.
“I’m sorry, Harry. Truly, I am.”
The words were so softly spoken that Harry barely heard them, but he did. He flicked his wand at the sign, changing it to ‘back in ten’ and then locked the door with a second flick.
He looked back at Severus, and then sighed. “Me too. I suppose I could have reacted better than I did.”
“No,” Severus shook his head. “This is on me, and I accept and acknowledge that. Is there… Is there anything I can do to fix it?”
“I… I don’t know,” Harry admitted.
Seeing Severus’ shoulders slump, Harry rushed to reassure him.
“I still love you. I never stopped. I just… I don’t know if you can trust me. Or if I can trust that you trust me,” he said, leaning on the counter. “And I won’t give up my business, Severus. I enjoy what I do.”
“I trust you,” Severus said, quietly. “I should never have doubted you in the first place. I know you better than that, or at least, I should have. It was… It was my own insecurities, rather than anything you did.”
Harry watched him for a few moments, and he considered telling him no. That they couldn’t try again. He imagined his life with no chance of ever kissing Severus again, of ever lying down in his arms, or making love to him.
He didn’t like what that looked like.
“I… would you like to go on a date, Severus?”
“With you?”
“Of course with me, you dolt,” Harry replied, chuckling. “And I don’t mean through the shop, either. Would you like to go on a date?”
“I’d love to.”
“Tonight?”
“I’ll pick you up from your flat, at eight?” Severus asked, a small smile on his face.
“Sure,” Harry agreed. “Now get out, you’re interrupting my shop,” he added, chuckling as he unlocked the door and changed the sign back to open.
Severus walked to the door, turning back with his hand on the handle, just before he opened it.
“Harry?”
“What?”
“I love you, too.”