Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lilies	By : strosevae Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 6378 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
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Chapter 10
Harry was not expecting to wake up with Snape’s arms around him. He felt panic prickling up his neck as he tried to remember what events transpired last night to have caused him to be embraced tightly by his Potions professor. Slowly, memories of the nightmare about the dog, the death omen, and the face of one escaped prisoner came back to him. Harry closed his eyes in painful embarrassment when he realized that he must have woken Snape up during his fitful sleep.
Harry tried to wiggle out of his hold gently, trying not to wake the older man, but found that Snape was extremely strong, even while sleeping. He couldn’t move the arm lying around his waist without waking up Snape and blushed at his compromising position. With nothing else to do but wait for the other man to wake up, Harry stared at the chest in front of him, tracing every line, curve, and scar with his eyes. What did Snape do that got him this many scars? Harry unconsciously started to lightly trace a long scar down Snape’s sternum with his fingers and jumped when the other man began to stir. Feeling the all too familiar heat burning his cheeks, Harry immediately closed his eyes, hoping that Snape wouldn’t notice anything.
“You’re doing a bad job of pretending to be asleep, Potter,”
Harry felt his blush deepened at Snape’s low, husky, morning voice. He slowly opened his eyes - wishing that the bed would just open up and swallow him whole - and locked his gaze with Snape’s dark stare.
“Sorry,” he squeaked out.
Snape said nothing.
“Did I wake you up last night? Sorry, that was a stupid question, I must have, I’m sorry, I-”
“Stop apologizing Potter,”
“Sorry,” Harry averted his eyes, feeling impossibly embarrassed. Snape sighed, removed his arm from around Harry’s waist, and sat up. Harry rolled to his other side before getting up himself. Snape went to wash up first, so instead of waiting idly, Harry started making breakfast. He didn’t know what Snape likes to eat, so he made what he thought would be the safest bet: plain buttered toast, eggs, bacon, and coffee.
Snape was surprised to find breakfast waiting for him when he entered the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower. Harry was sitting by the table, holding a steaming cup of tea with both hands, smiling up at him bashfully.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” Snape said, taking a seat across from Harry, who just shrugged nonchalantly.
“My Aunt and Uncle always made me cook for them every summer holiday and before I went to Hogwarts,”
“Yes, thank you for the insight into your horrible childhood,” Snape frowned and Harry grinned sheepishly. “You don’t have to cook, you know.”
“I want to,” Harry sipped his tea as Snape took a piece of toast and some eggs. Halfway through, Snape noticed that Harry hadn’t touched a thing and was only drinking his now lukewarm tea.
“Why are you not eating?”
“I’m not hungry,” Harry replied, a little too rehearsed.
“Potter,” Snape’s voice was low and menacing.
“I’m really not,” he insisted but Snape just continued to stare at him through narrowed eyes. Desperate for something to fill the sudden, uncomfortable silence, Harry huffed and slouched in his chair, pushing his tea away. “I didn’t eat much back home, so every time I come back here I have to adjust for around 2 weeks before I can eat breakfast.”
Snape frowned at his answer and got up to retrieve a vial of very light green potion, which Harry accepted cautiously.
“It’s a recovery aid potion, to help heal your stomach faster,” Snape explained when Harry didn’t drink the liquid, instead choosing to stare at the man questioningly.
“...Thank you,” Harry smiled up at him and downed the potion in one gulp, an action he regretted almost immediately as the potion tasted incredibly disgusting.
Snape smirked at his expression, took back the empty vial, and slid the plate of eggs and toast towards Harry, “Now eat.”
Harry, who was starting to get bored and cramped up in the dungeons, took his Nimbus 2000 for a short fly out on the Quidditch pitch. Snape was busy brewing in his personal lab and Harry, feeling like he shouldn’t intrude, left a small note on the kitchen table after he finished washing the dishes.
He took a deep breath of fresh summer air and couldn’t help the grin that stretched his lips. He quickly flew up and zoomed around, laughing as the wind slapped against his face. The vast infinite blue of the sky above blurred with the rippling cushion of green below as Harry soar and spin, gently reminding him of why he so loved flying in the first place. The wonderful feeling of freedom washed over him as he took in the vibrant colors dancing around him. Harry sighed contentedly as he slowed to a stop in mid-air, admiring the way the lake shimmered in the sunlight. It had been too long - way too long - since he last felt happiness coursing through him. Even the Forbidden Forest seemed extra friendly today.
A cold drop of water fell on his nape, sending shivers throughout his body. He immediately turned around, expecting to find someone flying behind him, but found nothing there.
“What-”
Again. Another drop. And another.
The rain was steadily becoming heavier, conjuring a sweet pattern on Harry’s skin; thousands of clear liquid globes reflecting the green scenery around him. Harry looked up, relishing the feeling of cool water dripping and sliding across his cheeks. The clouds were pure white and perfectly innocent just a moment ago, and now they were darkening rapidly, splashing him without mercy and slowly chilling him to the bone.
Harry shuddered. He had secretly thrown away the breakfast leftovers Snape told him to eat and on an empty stomach, the cold seemed to have seeped even deeper into him. It was getting harder to breathe under the downpour. Harry gripped his broom tightly and hurried out of the rain and into the nice, dry castle. Shivering, he started towards the dungeons, longing for the warmth of the fireplace and leaving a trail of water behind him.
Filch was certainly going to explode when he saw it.
“Hurry and go shower. I will not have you wetting the carpet,” Snape said, frowning at Harry the moment he entered.
“Sorry,” Harry trotted to the bathroom and took off the soaked shirt clinging to his body at the same time, exposing the wounds on his lithe physique. When Harry’s back was turned, Snape’s eyes roamed over him, taking in every inch of the wet, exposed skin and scowling at the sight of the injuries.
When Harry finally emerged from the bathroom with his hair damp and his expression content from the wonderful hot shower, he found Snape waiting for him in the living room with the first aid kit beside him.
“Sit. Let me treat your wounds.”
“It’s okay, really…” Harry protested, but he sat nonetheless.
“Nonsense, your body is too weak to heal itself at the moment,” Snape took out the salves and potions and - ignoring Harry’s glare at the comment - started to apply them to the lesions, causing Harry to give a pained wince or hiss. Seeing Harry in this state reminded Snape of his own less-than-pleasant childhood. As he applied the medicine to Harry’s wounds, he couldn’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you ask for help? From the Weasleys? Or the Granger girl? Or even from Dumbledore? From me?”
Guilt, confusion, and hopelessness flickered across his face as he answered, “They - and you - shouldn’t have to be burdened with my own family problems. There are bigger things to worry about, like Voldemort.” Snape’s eyes narrowed at the name. “Besides, it’s just a few scrapes, nothing to worry about.”
Snape exhaled, frustrated. Such typical Gryffindor stubbornness. It irritated him that the boy would not reach out to anyone despite having a lot of willing and caring friends, slowly destroying himself when Snape would have given anything to have such people in his life when he was Harry’s age.
“Ow,” Harry flinched. Snape had unconsciously been gripping too tightly in his anger. He immediately relaxed his hand and his expression softened when he looked into Harry’s eyes, glassy with pain.
“Sorry,” Snape murmured, rubbing him apologetically before bandaging his torso. His hand unconsciously lingered for just a second too long and his fingers brushed against the side of Harry’s waist as he retracted them. “From now on, whenever something happens, I want you to come to me, no matter how insignificant. Do you understand, Potter?”
“But-” Harry started.
“No buts.”
“I-”
Snape stood up, ignoring Harry’s protests as he returned the first aid kit to the shelf with a flick of his hand. He was about to return to his potion work when Harry caught his wrist. Snape turned towards him with a raised eyebrow, surprised at the bold move.
“Can I watch you work?”
Although his expression remained neutral, Snape was taken aback by the sudden request. It was very unlike Harry, who apparently took the silence as rejection and slowly withdrew his hand.
“Fine, but you may not touch anything,” Snape replied after a few seconds, turning to enter the lab with an excited Harry following close behind him. He obediently sat across the counter, silently observing Snape as he worked on the potions Madame Pomfrey had asked him to restock. How ironic was it that the one most of the potions would be used for was sitting directly in front of him now?
Snape was not expecting to enjoy Harry’s company as much as he did, although he would never admit it. The boy asked questions at the right moments and helped by handing him ingredients when requested. And when the potion of the day was done and Harry smiled at him, he had to fight the urge to return the gesture.
Sitting beside Snape on the sofa with a borrowed book lying open on his lap, Harry stifled a yawn and straightened his back. Snape hid a small smile. The boy was obviously struggling to stay awake. Snape returned to his own book, shaking his head slightly at Harry’s refusal to go to bed first even though he was clearly tired. Not a few minutes later, he felt Harry leaning against him with his head resting on Snape’s shoulder, fast asleep. Snape gently removed his glasses, careful as to not wake him up, and continued to read until his own sleepiness overcame him and he drifted off, his head leaning on Harry’s, a small smile on his lips.

TBC
AAA this was harder to write than usual. I wanted to show them slowly getting comfortable around each other but it felt kinda repetitive :( I'm sorry if this chapter is boring. I'm gonna speed things up in the next one.
Please review! :D
- Strosevae
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- 11
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Lilies