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Harry sat in his office on the second floor of the Ministry of Magic, also known as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry was an Auror; Head Auror to be exact, and he was pretty damn good at his job if he did say so himself. He enjoyed his job even if it was exhausting and sometimes felt like he never got to be at home. Speaking of home, he really should have left half an hour ago. Harry closed his files and got up, his back making a popping noise when he stood. He groaned, his hands flew to clutch his forehead in dismay; he was only 37 years old, still very young by wizarding standards, not that he felt young most days. He turned towards his floo; the floo in his office was connected directly to his cottage where he lived with his husband. Harry turned off the lights in his office with a quick flick of his wand and a silent ‘nox’ before grabbing some floo powder and sending himself through the fireplace.
Harry exited the floo and stepped into the empty and quiet cottage, which was an unusual sight. Normally at this time, he would come home to find Sev standing in the kitchen, hovering over the pots and pans of a tasty meal as if it were one of his most delicate potions. Either Sev was locked away in his lab office or he had gone out of the house. Harry yawned and slipped his shoes off, dropping them by the fireplace. As he walked through the main floor of their home, he peeled his robes off, remaining in his white button down collared shirt and his tight regulation auror black pants. He carefully undid the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt sleeves and rolled them up to his elbows. He opened the door to the cellar and quietly walked down the stairs.
“Sev?” he called out, his gaze panning across the dimly lit entrance to the underground chambers.
“I’m down here,” echoed Severus’s reply. Harry turned his head quizzically, following the sound of his voice.
Harry smiled brightly, finding Sev hunched over his desk, bathed in warm light.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked, noticing an old, yellowed and musty scroll unrolled on Sev’s desk.
“Trying to decipher this message,” Severus said in an obvious tone. He glanced up for a second, his gaze lingering on the rolled up sleeves of Harry’s shirt and his exposed tan forearms.
“Like what you see?” Harry teased with a grin as he watched his husband's gaze. His husband proceeded to pointedly roll his eyes.
“Either leave or sit down and be quiet,” Severus said firmly, summoning a stool from the side of the room.
“Sitting down and shutting up,” Harry replied, taking a seat on the stool, leaning over his husband’s shoulder.
Harry dutifully watched, enraptured by the movements of his husband’s skilled hands, as Sev would soak the parchment in silvery potions while reciting unfamiliar spells.
Nothing seemed to make a difference; sometimes the potion would bubble slightly and Sev would make murmurs of excitement, but no significant changes were observable.
Severus began to get frustrated when again and again, nothing happened with the scroll of parchment. His fingers moved more frantically and his mouth set with even more determination.
“Why don’t you leave it for awhile? Let’s go upstairs and make some dinner and then you can come back to it,” Harry offered his husband, wrapping his arms around Sev’s shoulders from behind. “Maybe the time away will allow you to come back with a fresh perspective or new ideas,” He continued, murmuring at the sliver of exposed skin on his husband’s neck.
“Fine,” Severus acquiesced, sitting up straight. He strongly disliked being pulled away from his work, but Harry was right. And food did sound like an excellent prospect at this point.
The two padded up the stairs together, their steps sounding in syncopated thuds. Reaching the kitchen, they worked around each other in a pleasant silence, their bodies moving around each other fluidly in a well-rehearsed routine.
Sev finally tucked a pasta dish and a tray of garlic bread into the oven; Harry put down the wet towel he’d been using to dry up the cooking dishes. He ducked down into the wine cabinet, reaching towards the back.
“Pinot noir alright?” Harry called back, still in the cabinet.
“Fine by me,” Sev answered, staring expectantly at the muggle oven.
Harry opened the bottle, checked it hadn’t turned and poured two glasses while arranging their table.
~~~
Dinner was delicious, as usual. Harry smiled to himself as he took the first bites, feeling rather lucky to have a husband who was so proficient in the kitchen. Severus dutifully listened as Harry talked about work and a visit from Ron Weasley; but mostly how Rose was adjusting to Hogwarts and Minerva’s excitement for Rose’s talent for quidditch and placement in Gryffindor house.
After they ate and cleaned up, Harry urged Severus to sit on the couch for a while before returning to the cellar; Harry, for one, selfishly wanted to lie with his limbs entangled with his husbands’, run his fingers through his husband’s silky black locs and watch as his usually dour mask faded into one of peace.
“I’m just going to check on it, I’ll be right back,” Severus said, untangling himself from the younger man; he gave Harry a brief kiss before he went downstairs.
Severus returned to his lab office, lit the sconce and then sat at the desk. He lifted the parchment from the basin it was in and held it up to the light. Liquid dripped off of the parchment as Severus read the message.
Happy Birthday to the most
Wonderful and Special Samantha
♡
Severus put the parchment down. This Samantha must be a very special person. The parchment had been littered with spells to preserve the ink and parchment, to help keep it intact so it would last years. Severus hoped that the recipient knew how loved and appreciated she was. He hoped she had a good birthday, and many of them at that. He put the parchment back down and went back upstairs to his husband with a smile; it might not have been undiscovered old magical research, but he still thought the scroll held a beautiful message.