Chapter 17

The afternoon melted away to evening. They shared a shower and afterwards retreated to put on the clothing Antoine had provided. Antoine had outdone himself. Their suits, delivered that morning by a nervous apprentice, were masterpieces. Even Tilly had swooned. They were both black tie, but that was where the similarity ended.

Severus's was a traditional shawl-collar tuxedo in a matte-black wool. The shirt was stark white, and the bow tie was simply black. Meanwhile, Harry's was a more modern interpretation. The jacket was a deep, velvety midnight blue and the lapels were faced in the same emerald silk as his tie.

Harry turned from the full-length mirror and stared at his lover. "You look... lethal. In the best way."

Severus didn't acknowledge the compliment verbally, though Harry did notice a flush on the Potion master's cheeks. Instead, Severus cleared his throat, and he produced a velvet box from his trouser pocket. "Harry..."

"Sev?"

Severus held out the box, but he did not meet Harry's eyes. "I procured this. During our fitting. When you were... engrossed in discussing lapel widths with Antoine."

Puzzled but touched, Harry took the small box and opened it. Nestled inside were a pair of cufflinks. They were simple, elegant squares inlaid with a forest-green emerald.

"They're... Severus, they're perfect," Harry breathed, lifting one to the light. Severus shifted his weight and uttered, "They are merely functional. The gem is not of the highest quality. I am aware you are accustomed to... finer things."

Harry looked from the cufflinks to Severus's averted face. "Sev," Harry said. He set the box down carefully and closed the distance between them. He took Severus's face in his hands, forcing him to meet his eyes. "They are the finest thing anyone has ever given me."

"Do not be absurd. They are simple stones."

"They're from you," Harry said as he leaned in and kissed him. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against Severus's. "My previous... arrangements," he said, the words dripping with distaste, "never involved such gifts to me, that is. It was purely transactional. And my parents..." He sighed. "Achievements were expected and never celebrated."

He kissed Severus again, softer this time. "Help me put them on?" With slightly unsteady fingers, Severus fastened the cufflinks.

When Severus was done, Harry didn't step back. He cupped Severus's face in his hands and kissed him. "Thank you," Harry whispered against his lips.

Severus's earlier nervousness dissolved and he simply nodded, resting his forehead against Harry's. For a moment, they just stood there.

"Are you ready?"

"As I will ever be," Severus replied, and meant it.

Bernard appeared precisely at seven. His own attire was impeccable, and he had a portfolio tucked under his arm. "The private floo is ready, sirs." Then he handed the portfolio to Harry. "Notes on key attendees, potential conversational minefields, such as Lord Ashwood's recent skinny-dipping scandal, and the evening's schedule are here. The Prophet's photographer is confirmed to be stationed at the main entrance. As are several freelance stringers."

"Let them look," Harry said. Then he glanced at Severus, who gave a minute, almost imperceptible nod, though not before his brows had shot up at the mention of that skinny-dipping scandal. He would probably need to get the finer details from Lucius at some point.

The Ministry's Grand Atrium had been transfigured for the evening. Enchanted crystal chandeliers floated overhead, while a string quartet played classical music from a raised dais.

Harry and Severus emerged from the VIP Floo arrival zone onto the red carpet. A ripple went through the crowd as they were spotted by both reporters and other guests. The Prophet photographer's camera flashed, capturing their entrance into the Atrium.

Harry didn't smile for the camera, nor did he wave. He simply placed a hand lightly on the small of Severus's back. It was a gesture of casual intimacy, one that Severus didn't object to. The Purebloods who had been former students and were very likely in attendance knew full well that their former professor would have hexed Potter's arse off if the touch wasn't wanted. But Severus's expression was its usual impassive mask. He held his head high and met any stare with a glacial disdain that dared anyone to comment.

They were immediately descended upon by Hermione, who looked resplendent in a deep burgundy gown. She kissed Harry on the cheek and nodded to Severus. "You look formidable," she stated, "Half the room is probably already revising their opinion."

Ginny was next. Her dress was a metallic dark blue. She linked her arm with Harry's briefly. "Bloody brilliant entrance. Ron's here, by the way. Skulking near the punch bowl with Mum. Dad's pretending not to see him." She shot Severus an approving look. "Suit's killer, Professor."

"Harry, darling. Please tell me you aren't letting Professor Snape go to class dressed like this. The entire student body would swoon and blow up half the dungeons." Ginny smirked.

As they collected glasses of champagne from a floating tray, Ginny, whose eyes were scanning the room, gave a low whistle. "Granger. Hottie at nine o'clock."

Hermione blinked; her professional composure slipped for a second as she followed Ginny's subtle nod. Near one of the massive, enchanted ice sculptures depicting a phoenix in flight stood a familiar man.

"Is that... Viktor Krum?" Hermione asked in surprise.

Harry, who had been monitoring a cluster of whispering investors he'd worked with previously, turned his head. "Bloody hell, so it is." He hadn't seen much of the other man since Krum's quiet retirement from professional Quidditch and his even quieter retreat into managing his family's estates in Bulgaria. Viktor had never been one for galas. "What's he doing here?"

Ginny's smirk widened. "Well, our Hermione here is freshly single. And wouldn't you know it, a reclusive, famously intense former international sports star who also happens to have had a massive crush on her at sixteen just happens to show up at one of the biggest social events of the season. Coincidence? I think not." She nudged Hermione with her elbow. "Go on. Reconnect. He looks like he'd rather be eaten by a dragon than make small talk with the Minister."

"Ginny, don't be absurd. He's probably here on behalf of the Bulgarian Ministry liaison." Hermione flushed.

"With that scowl? He's here for you, you brilliant idiot," Ginny retorted. "Girl, you know I got a sixth sense about these things." She gave Hermione a gentle push in Viktor's direction. "Go, be diplomatic. It's practically your duty." Hermione shot Harry a slightly panicked look, but he just smiled and gave her an encouraging nod. Finally, she sighed and walked toward Krum.

Ginny watched her go with satisfaction. "Good. She needs a distraction that isn't work or plotting Ron's painful demise." She then turned her attention back to Harry and Severus. "Some inside gossip," she whispered and leaned closer to the two men. "Dad is thinking of removing Ron as acting Lord after this debacle. Percy and his wife Audrey have agreed to return from Italy to formally take over."

"Why was Mr. Weasley even made acting Lord?" Severus asked with furrowed brows. "They are a progressive family but still Purebloods."

"Because none of my brothers and I really wanted the title." Ginny shrugged. "Bill and Fleur are married, and he's learning to become Lord Delacour from his father-in-law. Charlie's married to his job at the Dragon Reserve, and the twins run a successful business. Percy and Audrey have been living in Italy for several years now and initially didn't want to uproot their daughters from their friends. But some things happened, which I am not at liberty to say. As for me, I am retiring as Seeker and taking on a coaching position for the Harpies starting next season."

Afterwards, the evening followed as it always did at these types of events. The speeches began, which was more a parade of self-congratulation from Ministry department heads and major donors. Harry sat at their table with Severus. Dinner was served, but they ate sparingly even with the extravagant plates. Hermione had returned from her conversation with Viktor Krum, looking thoughtful and slightly flushed. She offered no details, but Ginny smiled with smug satisfaction.

After dessert, the orchestra began tuning up for the evening's dancing. Harry, though, felt the familiar prickle of being watched with hostile intent.

Couples began to drift toward the dance floor. He saw them before they saw him looking. Lily and James Potter were moving towards them. James's face was a thundercloud of outrage, but beside him, Lily's gaze was locked onto Severus with an intensity that Harry couldn't begin to understand right now.

Harry, even now, wasn't ready for this conversation. He pushed his chair back, and he stood. He turned to Severus and extended his hand. "Severus," he asked, "Will you dance with me?"

"Very well," he said, "But if you tread on my feet, Potter, the next potion you sample will taste of regret."

A smile touched Harry's lips as he led Severus onto the dance floor, which was still mostly empty. They moved into the center, and Harry positioned them with his back to his parents' inevitable approach. He took Severus's right hand, placed his left on the man's shoulder, and felt Severus's hand settle, after a moment's hesitation, on his waist. For the first few steps, they were awkward. Severus's movements were a bit stiff as he did not make a habit of dancing. Harry leaned in and whispered, "Just follow me and stop looking like you're preparing to dissect me. Let me lead, just like when you let me take you apart." Severus blushed slightly but nodded.

The tension in Severus's spine eased a fraction as they got more in sync on the dance floor. From his peripheral vision, Harry saw his parents halt at the edge of the polished floor.

Harry then focused on the man in his arms. He leaned in slightly. His lips brushed Severus's ear, and he murmured a "Thank you,". Severus's hand tightened minutely on his waist,

"Do not thank me. This is a uniquely torturous form of social warfare," the Potion Master whispered back. "You can thank me when you see the surprise I have planned after such a torturous evening."

"A surprise?" Harry asked.

Severus's lips curved into the faintest, most secretive of smiles. His dark eyes held a glint of pure mischief as he leaned in and whispered against his lover's ear, "Indeed, a surprise, but one intended for your eyes only when we are... home."

A shudder ran through Harry. "Severus," he hissed, "You cannot tell a man that on a dance floor while he's wearing tight trousers." Harry shifted slightly. It was a subtle but desperate attempt to alleviate the sudden, pressing confinement of his formalwear.

Severus just smirked. "I can," he murmured, "And I just did. Consider it... motivation to endure the remainder of this tedium."

"You're a sadist," Harry whispered while he tried to will down his arousal.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw his parents still standing at the edge of the floor. Severus followed Harry's gaze. "They seem intent on confrontation."

"Right now, I'm more concerned with the logistical challenge of leaving this dance floor without causing a scandal." Harry hissed. "You are a damn sadistic minx, you know."

"Compose yourself, Potter," Severus said with dark amusement. "Think of something profoundly unsexy. The ingredients list for a Swelling Solution. The image of Gilderoy Lockhart pole-dancing."

Harry choked on a laugh, the sudden absurdity cutting through the lustful fog. "Merlin, you know I hate the ponce but that's evil. It's working though."

"See," Severus murmured, as the final notes of the waltz faded into polite applause.

Severus's gaze then swept the room. "I believe," he said, "that we have made our point sufficiently for one evening. The photographers have their shots. The gossips have their fodder. And I find my tolerance for this circus has reached its limit."

Harry followed his gaze. His parents were still standing near the dance floor's edge, but between them and the exit. Then Harry saw a flash of platinum blond hair. Lucius Malfoy, dressed in silver-grey robes, was gliding towards James and Lily. He positioned himself directly in their path and engaged James in conversation.

"Lucius is going to be insufferable about helping," Severus observed dryly. "There goes my whiskey."

"Let's not waste the opportunity. Lucius can have the whole damn distillery." Harry said. He offered his arm. "Shall we?"

----

AN: I will be going on vacation from September 11 to the first week of October, so the rest of this story will be published during this week. The next story will start in December, as I need time to plot and traumatize my friends with said plot before I unleash it onto all of you. XD