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Emancipation	By : BadGirlgoesworse Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 14093 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Anything recognisable does not belong to me. Story is based on the books by JKR and inspired by other writers of this genre. I do not make any money with this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE
At breakfast the next morning their Hogwarts letters finally arrived, or rather McGonagall had brought them with her, telling them that she had kept them to deliver in person instead of sending them via owl. The envelopes were much thicker than usual containing their O.W.L. results.
“You can tell me directly which N.E.W.T. classes you wish to take as well,” she informed them taking a list out of her pocket.
Hermione immediately took them all, while Ron opted for a bare minimum of five, Transfiguration, Charms, Defence, Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures.
“Mr. Potter?” McGonagall turned to him expectantly. Harry however was busy examining a shiny badge that had fallen out of his envelope.
“You made me Quidditch captain?” he raised his head looking at her in disbelief.
“Yes, Mr. Potter,” she pursed her lips wryly, “the lifelong ban issued by Ms. Umbridge has been lifted, in case you were not informed.”
“I’m sorry, Professor, but I can’t accept it,” he pushed the badge across the table towards her. “I’m not going to play this year, or the next for that matter.”
Hermione smiled at him proudly while McGonagall, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley stared in shock. Ron nearly spit out a mouthful of pumpkin juice he had been drinking in that moment.
“Harry, mate,” he spluttered incredulously, “have you gone mad? You can’t leave us hanging!”
“You managed just fine without me last year, Ron,” Harry pointed out annoyed. “I’m not going to have time for it in the future, that’s all.”
He turned back to McGonagall. “Why didn’t Ron get it by the way? He’s far better in rules and tactics than I.”
Gathering herself she cleared her throat distractedly, before giving Ron a stern look. “Mr. Weasley is holding a prefect position already and his grades indicated that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with everything should other duties be added to it.”
“Does that mean that I can have it, if I give up my prefect duties?” Ron had jumped on it immediately looking very eager.
“Ronald Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley exploded at him.
“What?” he returned defiantly. “I’m not going to make it Head Boy anyway, so what’s the use in keeping it up?”
McGonagall regarded him thoughtfully. “If Mr. Potter takes them on in your stead, I don’t see why not.”
Harry blinked surprised. On second thought, it would be absolutely perfect considering the liberties he would gain, not to mention forward his own plans quite nicely.
“I’ll do it,” he said laughing at Ron, who was jumping up and down in his seat, looking like Christmas came early.
“Very well,” McGonagall made a note on her parchment.
Ron shoved the prefect badge into Harry’s hand and accepted the captain’s one in return caressing it reverently with a dreamy smile on his face, not caring in the least that the rest of them was shaking their heads at him in amusement.
“Now, to your schedule, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall went back to business.
“Er,” Harry took a look at his grades again, “I’ll take Defence, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures and third-year Ancient Runes.”
Ron choked on his toast coughing violently while McGonagall raised her eyebrow, but put it down without comment.
“No Potions?”
“I’ve gotten only an E in it, Professor.”
“Professor Snape is teaching Defence this year, Mr. Potter,” she informed him with a slight crease between her brows. “Professor Slughorn, who will take the Potions position, perfectly accepts students with an E grade in his class.”
They all stared at her not quite believing their ears.
Now, that’s an interesting bit of news indeed!
Harry’s mind went into overdrive calculating possible consequences. No wonder Snape was angry with Dumbledore. Who wouldn’t be?
He focused back on his Head of house smirking gleefully inside, while new possibilities unfolded themselves behind his eyes. “Then I’ll take Potions as well.”
xxxoooxxx
Theodore sat in his late father’s study surrounded by wadded pieces of parchment chewing on the tip of his quill. Writing to the object of his desire had turned out a harder task than he had originally imagined. Frustrated he threw the at this point quite abused quill on the desk and leaned back in his chair crossing his arms.
For crying out loud, just inquire after her health, it shouldn’t be this difficult!
But it was! There were so many things he had always wanted to tell her, so many questions he wanted to ask, but never dared to before believing it to be unwelcome. Now, he simply didn’t know where to start.
At least everything else was going perfectly as planned. The Aurors seemed to have finished their snooping, finally allowing him to take full control of the wards, or as full as it could possibly be with him still underage. He promptly erased every single magical signature keyed into them by his father. From this moment on no one not of Nott blood would be able to enter the property without his permission.
He sighed and took up his quill again. If only everything in life was that easy.
xxxoooxxx
Harry lay on the floor in Sirius’ old room breathing heavily and glaring at the ceiling, defeated. His body was so useless and weak to the point where the handful of press-ups and body-lifts he had attempted today had drained him of all energy. Quidditch simply didn’t build up any muscle, not in the Seeker position at least. Consequently, the only part of him that was reasonably fit were his legs from the many staircases at Hogwarts, not to mention running for his life on regular basis.
Too bad there wasn’t a potion or charm to fix this easily. He would have to do it the hard way. And even though Hermione had promised him to brew the necessary supplement potions, she had warned him not to put much hope into them. The Growth Potion in particular would not give him more than an inch or two extra height. But being as short as he still was, Harry would be grateful for anything.
Giving up for today he cast a Freshening Charm and left to continue the exploration of the house, sighing when he remembered the events of this morning. He had finally managed to stomp down his pride enough to ask the girls for a makeover. Their squeals of delight nearly made him regret it and all things considered he still might. Greatly. He had given Hermione his Gringotts key and after taking his measurements they set off shopping. Thank Merlin he himself wasn’t allowed out without escort.
Unpleasant things aside, he decided it was a good feeling to wander around wherever he wanted with the absolute knowledge that nothing inside of these walls, apart from the habitants themselves, could harm him in any way. The house had a dark feel to it still, but the maliciousness behind it had disappeared entirely to be replaced by a tentative curiosity, or so it seemed. Harry was still getting used to the awareness of the building as an entity and was seriously asking himself, if he had taken control of the wards without conscious thought.
The library would have a book or two on the topic I’m sure, he smiled imagining Ron’s face should he ever say this aloud for him to hear.
He walked past the kitchen stopping for a moment to listen to Mrs. Weasley bustling around inside, before beginning his search for the dungeon entrance. Hermione had left him with the task of finding an appropriate place to brew and he figured, if this house had a potions lab, this would be the likeliest place for it. Not finding it immediately he pulled out his wand and cast a Revealing Charm. A rectangular shaped wall segment next to the staircase lit up light blue indicating a simple Concealment Charm to his relief. Curse breaking would take its time and he’d rather not alert anyone to his intentions yet.
“Potter!”
Harry jumped and whirled around wand at the ready, heart pounding wildly in his chest. He hadn’t seen anyone in the entrance hall just a moment before.
“What are you up to now?” Snape’s tall figure loomed before him, sharp black eyes regarding him suspiciously.
Throwing up his Occlumency shields Harry lowered his wand, thinking quickly. Ever since McGonagall’s visit two days ago he had been wracking his brain for a possible way to approach the Potions Master inconspicuously. In the end he had decided a direct one would be the best, seeing as Snape would probably smell any attempt at subtle manipulation on his side ten miles against the wind. In this regard the opportunity unfolding itself before him was almost too good to be true. To gain his attention and engage him in a constructive conversation and maybe even an interesting enterprise, what better way to get him hooked?
“Just looking around, sir,” he tried for nonchalant not sure if he had succeeded though, before turning towards the hidden entrance and cancelling the charm, letting a massive, yet highly polished and intricately carved wooden door appear before them. Unlocking it with the key sticking in the keyhole Harry pulled it wide open, wrinkling his nose at the whiff of stale air.
“Sirius obviously had no interest in cleaning out the cellar,” he flashed Snape a cheeky grin to make up for the nervous fluttering in his guts. “Wonder what’s down there?”
He sent out a Scout, a combination of Detection and Revealing Charms Aurors used before entering an unknown territory, well aware that it was quite an advanced bit of magic for someone of his age. The bird-shaped bundle of light returned reporting the presence of several Locking Charms and an array of cursed weapons, all in all far less harmful conditions than he had expected. Feeling Snape’s eyes boring into the back of his head Harry set foot on the stairs leading downwards. The torches sprang into life immediately illuminating his way, and he began descending unable to help holding his breath until he rather felt than heard Snape following him.
The underground portion of the property turned out to be very fascinating, if extremely dusty. It was divided into four sections; holding cells and a torture chamber to the right, an impressive wine cellar to the left, storage rooms straight ahead and yes, a potions lab and ingredients storage behind them.
Keeping Snape’s profile in the corner of his eye Harry could clearly see the man’s curious nature getting the better of him, even though he tried hard to hide it. Suppressing the urge to crow in triumph Harry rubbed his hands together in glee.
“How about a deal, sir?” he smirked turning to face the Potions Master. “You’ll help me cleaning and I’ll key you into the wards.”
Snape straightened raising his eyebrow. “Wards, Mr. Potter?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed airily. “The blood wards I’m going to place on the entrance in a minute or so.”
In the hindsight he should have expected it he supposed. The attack came lightning-fast and if Harry hadn’t had his Occumency shields up already, it would have cut though his mind like a knife through butter. A collision of minds didn’t feel much different from a collision of heads he decided, rubbing his forehead in a futile attempt to ease the phantom pain. Then, he tensed realising the consequences.
Straightening, he looked Snape in the eyes and did not like at all what he saw in them. He let his wand slip into his hand ready for anything. They stared at each other for a couple of moments very much aware that they were alone down here with what could possibly be a dangerous enemy.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Do something, idiot!
He’d rather avoid duelling Snape right now and could only hope Snape would as well.
“And if you keep this little incident to yourself,” he addressed him forcing the smirk back on his lips, “I’ll let you select a dozen bottles of wine from my cellar as well.”
Holding his breath Harry watched Snape regard him warily, black eyes glittering in the torch-light, truly seeing him for the first time and earnestly gauging his intentions.
Finally, after what had felt like eternity, “Any bottles, Mr. Potter?”
Harry nearly sighed with relief, but restrained himself smiling wider instead.
“Any, sir,” he allowed knowing full well that some of them must cost a fortune each. Honestly, he didn’t care as long as no curses of harmful variety were exchanged between them, and if it placed him on Snape’s good side, so much the better.
“Very well,” Snape concluded their agreement and stepped aside. He had been blocking the exit to prevent his escape, Harry realised passing him on the way up.
Never leaving anything to chance, are we?
Harry smiled grimly inside. This was exactly what made Snape so proficient in everything he did. He could only hope to acquire a similar diligence one day. He didn’t like to have his back turned to the man either, but trust he expected, was something that needed to be earned and he would have to be the one to make the first step.
Back in the entrance hall he made sure they were alone and Mrs. Weasley still busy, before casting a Silencing Charm on the kitchen door and taking out the ritual knife he had found in a hidden compartment in Sirius’ former study. Somehow he had the feeling that the house itself had led him to it, just like the spyhole in the drawing room on second floor or the niche with some jewellery in the Master bedroom. If he had not known any better, he would have said that the house actually liked him.
He cut his left palm diagonally letting his blood drop on the threshold and began chanting in Latin. One of the books Neville had sent him contained very detailed descriptions as to how such things were done, and after taking his time to de facto memorise it from the first page to the last he had no fears of doing something wrong. Snape watched him like a hawk, but did not move even a muscle until the wards were in place and it was time for him to be keyed in.
He stepped forward and extended his left hand for him to cut. Harry took it in his own mapping out its texture and shape, committing them to memory almost without conscious thought, yet very much aware that this was the first time he had touched the Potions Master skin on skin. And while with others it was a trivial everyday occurrence, with Snape it seemed to possess a level of intimacy he had never experienced before.
Horrified, he felt his pulse quicken and his insides give a pleasant lurch that he was only too familiar with from his experiences with Cho.
Holy Graces, this can’t be happening!
Panicking he smashed down his feelings with all his might, praying to every deity alive that Snape had not seen the beginnings of a blush on his face. Getting himself back under control he cut Snape’s palm and proceeded with the ritual, as if nothing life-changing had happened. When everything was done he removed the Silencing Charm from the kitchen door and concealed the newfound dungeon entrance just in time for the first Order member to arrive for lunch.
The man stopped abruptly noticing them standing close together and looked from Harry to Snape in confusion, but was quickly sent on his way by Snape’s customary glare. More people arrived, thus they locked eyes silently agreeing to meet again in the dungeons after everyone had left, before Snape turned and disappeared into the kitchen with a billow in his robes. Harry, feeling a bit unsteady both physically and mentally, made his way to the bathroom on the first floor as fast as possible without actually running. Shutting and locking the door behind him, he leaned his back against it and let his shields down breathing heavily.
Merlin’s balls, what’s wrong with me? This just can’t be! I can’t be attracted to him... I can’t... I’m not even gay!
Well, he definitely couldn’t be sure of that, could he now? Fighting evil left and right, not to mention his thrice damned celebrity status, he simply hadn’t had time to explore his preferences properly, unlike most of his peers at this point.
And even if I am, he’s Snape for Merlin’s sake! It’s just wrong on so many levels!
Says who? Harry’s mind came to an abrupt halt distancing itself from the Gryffindor Golden Boy conditioning and reassessed the situation from a different perspective. His entire life he had been doing nothing, but fulfilling other people’s expectations. The Dursleys had always insisted that he was a good for nothing freak; the muggle neighbours and teachers at his primary school saw him as a trouble maker, if not outright criminal; in the eyes of the wizarding public he was The-Boy-Who-Lived and recently the Chosen One and the Saviour; his peers looked up to their Golden Hero; and for Dumbledore he was the perfect mascot of the Light.
He stepped towards the sink and looked himself over in the mirror seeing none of these things. He was Harry the brother and friend, as well as Harry James Potter the Heir of the House Potter and Black; he was indeed the Chosen One and had ambitions to become the Saviour, even though not the one they all did expect. He was himself.
There is nothing wrong with what I am! There is nothing wrong with what I feel! And if the world doesn’t like it, they all can go hang!
He washed up and went down to the kitchen to join the Order members for lunch, plans over plans forming in his mind.
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Emancipation