Entry tags:

100quills, ficlets, harry/severus 50.3 (joanwilder), my snarrys, slash

FIC: Hurricane
Title: Hurricane (written for 100quills)
Author: joanwilder
Pairing: Harry/Severus
Rating: G
Prompt Set: 50.3
Prompt: 38
Word Count: 296
Summary: Harry knows how to seek shelter from the storm.

Hurricane

Severus slammed the door so violently, the walls shook. He stomped into the room, pausing as he was about to pass Harry by.

Harry looked over the top of his book, then unconsciously arched an eyebrow in question, a mannerism that had been learnt from the quintessential eyebrow-archer.

"Don't," Severus hissed at him, his eyes wild, his hair wilder, "say a word."

Harry wisely didn't, but he smiled once his face was behind the book again.

At lunch, Harry was careful not to speak, took great care not to slurp his tea or scrape his fork on his plate. He didn't reach for the Prophet until it'd been clearly abandoned. He waited until Severus left the table, then gathered their dishes and put them in the sink.

In the afternoon, he didn't take Severus his tea, as was their custom. Instead, he put out the pot and two cups on the table, then retreated with his own to his study, on tiptoes.

At dinner, Harry kept his eyes downcast, careful not to make eye contact. His table manners were especially impeccable, he chewed with his mouth completely shut, and kept himself to a more than reasonable single glass of wine. The fact that Severus barely ate went unmentioned, the hardest trick of the day for Harry to manage.

It was almost time for bed when Severus came to sit beside him and warm his feet in front of the fire. Harry didn't look up, until the voice beside him spoke, not even at the touch of a hand on his knee.

"You've been very quiet today. Are you out of sorts?" Severus asked in his usual bored, mildly inquisitive, slightly chiding, patronizing tone of voice.

Ah, he's back. "No, just a quiet day, I guess," Harry smiled.