Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Young At Heart	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15428 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am not making any money off of it. If I did , Snape would have gotten laid - often and repeatedly.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-Epilogue
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter 14

Hogsmeade, Harry decided, was even more brilliant with a boyfriend.
They'd made the usual rounds, and Harry had bullied Severus (a bit)
into picking out some sweets he liked at Honeydukes. It turned out
young Snape had a fancy for licorice wands, and Harry had very nearly
dragged him into the nearest alley when he saw the way Severus
innocently sucked on them.

They'd wandered out toward the Shrieking Shack and Harry explained
how it wasn't really haunted. Severus thought the spells involved
sounded interesting (if a bit juvenille), until they made his head
throb so severely that Harry had to pull him into the treeline and
find somewhere flat enough for him to lay down comfortably while
apologizing for being a thoughtless dolt, laying gentle kisses along
his brow until the episode passed. Something dark and haunted
entered Snape's gaze then, but it faded when Harry kissed him and
they'd spent a good twenty minutes snogging in the grass.

Then there was lunch, and the most secluded corner of the Three
Broomsticks that Harry could find. Holding hands under the table,
whispering about every stupid thing they could think of because
whispering made everything more romantic, feeding Severus a slice of
pickle off of his plate, and stealing a potato wedge of of the
long-haired young man's plate in return, buying two butterbeers, but
sharing first one, then the other.

It was late in the afternoon when Harry finally thought up an excuse
to slip away for a little while. “I promised Ron I'd stop in
the joke shop,” he lied. “I know that's not your thing.
You want to go to the apothecary and meet up in an hour?”

Severus readily agreed. He didn't like feeling rushed when picking
out potion ingredients. But Harry didn't go into Weasley's Wizard
Wheezes. He had a far more important errand down the road, around
the corner, in a little shop up a dimly lit alleyway whose only
signage was a serpent wrapped around a peach. 'That's tasteful...'
Harry thought dryly, making sure no one was around before slipping
inside. He kept his eyes downcast, made sure his hair was covering
his scar – the last thing he needed was the press hearing about
Harry Potter's sexual kinks. It was a small miracle that the rumors
about him and Snape hadn't been leaked to the Daily Prophet
yet. He imagined that he had all the human interest stories about
the war to thank for that, so for the moment he decided he'd just be
grateful for the break.

He couldn't even begin to imagine what half of the items in the shop
were supposed to be for, and the other half made him blush. When he
found the lubricant, he really didn't know what to do about all of
it. One advertized that it tasted like whatever your favorite flavor
was, and another boasted 'a touch of ice for your firey passion', a
third suggested it would 'keep your broomstick in the air for up to
six hours'. Harry thought six hours of the same erection sounded
painful. He found, much to his embarrassment, that he had to read the
labels very carefully. He didn't want to buy something strange! He
just needed normal lube but...good stuff, so he wouldn't hurt
Severus. He bit his lower lip, holding two tubes that seemed to be
the more expensive, but ordinary kind, and trying to figure out the
difference between them.

He was so engrossed that when he heard footsteps he jumped nearly out
of his skin. That's when he saw Ginny. Ginny Weasley! In a sex
shop! Holding black lingerie in one hand and a pair of handcuffs and
a blindfold in the other! She was looking at him with an equally
surprised expression as he mouthed wordlessly like a fish, holding
his two tubes of lubricant, one in each hand. A moment of unspoken
understanding passed between them as they stared in shock and a bit
of horror at being caught in such a place before they both smiled and
started laughing their arses off. All the drama just seemed so
ridiculous now! Harry fancied blokes. Ginny fancied someone who
liked handcuffs and black lace, and the fact that they were at all
worried about officially stating that they were definitely not going
to be getting back together seemed utterly preposterous and just
absolutely brilliant at the same time.

“So...you and Snape...?” Ginny started to say, eying the
two tubes of lubricant and quirking a brow.

Harry knew she was asking 'go at it like rabbits' without actually
saying it. “Oh, no, no! I mean, fuck...” Harry stuttered
and blushed. “I'm rather...sort of trying to figure out which
one is better for...er...you know...the first time...”

Much to his surprise, Ginny broke the distance between them and
looked over the two tubes. “I'd go with that one,” she
said. “All natural ingredients is usually the way to go. I've
heard horror stories about spelled lube. You definitely want to buy
something that's just ordinary potion ingredients. Know what you're
getting then, right?” She plucked the other out of his hand
and slipped it back into place on the shelf.

Harry found himself gaping at her again. How did Ginny – who
sometimes he still thought of as a ten year old girl – know so
much about lube?

“Don't look at me like that,” she said, puffing out her
cheeks. “I'm not a child anymore, you know.”

“I! No, I mean, of course not!” Harry sputtered. “So,
uh...?” he looked pointedly at her handful and quirked a brow.

She turned her own unique shade of red across the face. “I...well,
don't get the wrong idea. I'm not really into, you know, kinky
stuff. It's...sort of a birthday present.”

It might turn out that Harry preferred blokes (or at least one in
particular), but he knew whoever was going to be rewarded with that
particular present was going to be a very, very happy man. “Can
I ask who the lucky guy is?”

“Promise you won't tell? I'd rather prefer to bring him home
myself, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, absolutely! Secret's safe with me!” Harry declared
earnestly.

“Well, I imagine you remember Oliver Wood?”

Harry choked a bit at the thought of his former Quidditch Captain
with Ginny. It wasn't a bad pair, he thought, just a bit unexpected.
“Oh, uh, yeah? He's a good guy.” He meant it. A bit
neurotic, kind of a slave-driver when Quidditch was involved, but
otherwise a totally decent bloke. He thought once Ron got over the
'too old for you' fit he would definitely have, he'd find Oliver
totally acceptable.

Ginny smiled. That's when Harry knew everything would definitely
slip right back into normalcy for them. “Yeah. He's great,”
she answered. “I sort of...do crazy things when he's
involved,” she admitted as they made their way toward the
register to pay for their purchases. It was something new for her –
being so taken by someone it felt like being moderately insane at
times. Handcuffs and a blindfold? She didn't think she'd even have
gone that far for Harry. It seemed ridiculous even as she was paying
for the items.

Harry awarded her with an awkward smile as he paid a small fortune
for the tube and stuck the self-shrinking bag into his pocket.
“Maybe being a bit mad is just...sort of...the most important
part, you know? Maybe that's sort of how you know, you know? That
this person is 'the one', or something.”

“So Snape makes you crazy?” Ginny laughed as he held the
door open for her.

Harry awarded her with a broad, goofy grin. “Always has,
hasn't he?”

Ginny laughed and leaned forward, pressing a chaste, sisterly sort of
kiss on his cheek. “Good luck, Harry.”

“You too.”

Ginny laughed. “Oh, I don't need luck. I have breasts,”
she joked, winking playfully at him before turning on her heel and
heading further up the alley to emerge on the other side and meet up
with her friends.

Harry leaned against the wall, raked his hands through his hair, and
laughed. 'Honestly. What was I getting so worked up over? Ginny's
always been rather the independent sort. Strong-willed, does things
in her own way, and definitely smarter than her brothers give her
credit for.'

**

Severus' pockets were laden with far more than he should have
purchased from the apothecary, but there had been a very reasonable
sale. His mind kept returning to the horrific memory of Black's
sneer and Potter Sr.'s unlikely save and the many varied reason he
felt justified in the fact that, spells or no, the Shrieking Shack
gave him the willies. He imagined it ought to feel more immediate
and more traumatic than it did, and blamed Harry's gentle words and
soft kisses for the reasons it didn't. 'Thank Merlin the only
thing he inherited from his father was his looks,' Severus
thought. Harry was so different from James otherwise – at
least Severus thought so. He was so much more charming, and gentle,
and okay, maybe he was a bit of an idiot sometimes, and being a
Gryffindor certainly didn't do him any favors, or the fact that he
seemed to like showing off a bit, but he was kind and gentle and had
the most wonderful smile. He obviously knew how handsome Severus
thought he was, and used that to his advantage at every opportunity,
and there was the unfortunate penchant for breaking the rules (and
dragging Severus along with him)...but Severus knew that no matter
what else was true about Harry Potter, he would never, ever, do
anything to hurt him.

He had never been more confident of anything in his life, and he
didn't think he'd ever been happier, either. And being so happy, he
got to thinking – since it would be a bit before he was
scheduled to meet up with Harry, maybe he ought to go to that
shop. He'd never been inside, but everyone knew what kind of stores
you could find in the deserted alleys of Hogsmeade. He thought he
and Harry would almost definitely do it soon, and he should be
prepared. He'd never made a lubricating potion before, so he
thought, just to be safe, he ought to buy a pre-made lubricant, at
least the first time, until he had a thorough understanding of the
consistency and qualities necessary to brew it properly.

And so it was that he approached the end of the alley (stealthily, of
course – you never want to be seen ducking into questionable
alleyways, after all) just in time to see Harry leaving the very same
shop with Ginny Weasley, the girl he claimed he wasn't dating! He
tried to tell himself not to jump to conclusions, but that voice in
his head was quickly silenced at the kiss to the cheek, and the goofy
grins, and the laughter. There was only one possible way to read
that! She'd kissed him! And he was totally okay with it! In fact,
Severus thought, he looked awfully happy about it! And he was
enduring headaches and painful flashes of memory, and struggling
through his studies for a guy who would lie and...and would sneak off
in the middle of a date to meet someone else at a sex store?!!! How
could he?!

Severus felt the bile rise in his throat and made a dash for the
nearest toilet. So much for his judge of Harry's character. So much
for having someone who he adored, who adored him back...someone who
would never hurt him...

Once Severus was done losing his lunch he fell back against the
bathroom wall and raked his fingers through his hair. His head was
throbbing again. He had to bury it between his knees to keep the room
from spinning. 'And this time, no one's going to pet your hair,
or kiss your brow, and murmur softly against your skin and tell you
it's all going to be alright. It's not alright at all!'

He was consumed by flashes of young Harry in his mind. He couldn't
latch onto any one in particular, but he just felt overcome by this
all-consuming annoyance and exasperation. It wasn't hatred, exactly.
It was more like this feeling that someone was doing everything in
their power to make your life miserable, and you wanted to
hate them for it, but it was just so intensely complicated that
you didn't know how or where to begin. And he didn't understand why,
but he just had this inexplicable urge to be free of Harry,
once and for all – to be free of everything. He just felt
like, if it weren't for Harry Potter, everything would have been so
different, so much better. If it weren't for this thing, and that
thing, and the other thing...and all the things that led to Harry
shouldering, undesired, into his life, he might have had a
life. He wouldn't have wasted it chasing after...after what? Severus
didn't even know, but he needed to know. What exactly was
between him and Harry? Why was it there? Why did he feel like Harry
Potter was his entire reason for existing and that there was
something very, very wrong with that?

He pulled the salmon-colored potion from his breast pocket –
honestly unsure of why he'd even still been carrying it around –
and watched it quiver in his fingers. He thought of what he'd seen
in the alley. Was there any way he could have been wrong? The kiss,
the goofy smile. No, it had to be. And even if it wasn't... 'I
have to know. Merlin help me, I...fuck. I can't live this way.'
Always wondering. Even if he hadn't seen what he'd seen... no,
it's better that he'd seen it, he decided. Now he could move forward
without regrets. He wouldn't have Harry, maybe, but he'd apparently
never had him anyway. He swallowed down what should have been a sob,
what felt like a sob dying to escape. Somehow he managed to thwart
it. 'Fucking twat,' Severus thought dismally as the image of
Harry with Ginny played over and over in his mind. 'I'd have died
for him.'

It was the last thought he had before tilting his head back. The
potion burned its way down his throat and the glass vial shattered to
the floor as agonizing pain far worse than he'd anticipated raced
through his veins until all he could see was a near-blinding redness,
like the entire world was stained the deep shade of blood. He could
hear voices, but they were distant, feel movement, but even the
lightest touch was agony, and just when he thought it was all far,
far too much to bear – it all vanished into a blissful, black
void where nothing existed but him and a bluish shimmer. No, not a
shimmer at all, but a patronus. It was a doe. It darted playfully
forward towards him, then ran back just before he could touch it,
illuminating the path he was meant to walk, trying to show him the
way, but his legs felt leaden and it was hard to move.

He heard voices to his left, and turned to find a memory of a
prophecy, a child, and Albus Dumbledore trapped in what appeared to
be a shard of glass. It shattered, and the memory flooded him. He
crashed to his knees beneath the weight of it. When he stumbled to
his feet there was another, then another. He'd lost track of the
doe, but could still just barely see the trail of a blue shimmer in
the distance. More than once, his foot fell off the unseen path.
Each time he just barely managed to maintain his grip on it. Each
fragment of memory darted ahead past him and he got the impression
they were racing forward to form the pieces of the puzzle he was
meant to find at the end of his journey, leaving him dazed and dizzy
with their speed. He didn't feel like he would ever reach his
destination, but each time he felt he'd lost hope, the doe reappeared
– a speck on the distant horizon – and tilted it's head
before running off again. He would hurry for a few steps then, before
inevitably stumbling again, and only barely managing to right
himself. He'd have crawled up the path if his pride would stand for
it, but even alone he couldn't bear the thought of dragging his body
along in such an undignified manner.

Memory after memory met him and jolted ahead like thousands of pieces
of broken glass until, at last, he saw the doe jump through a window.
No, it was a mirror. 'The Mirror of Erised,' he realized.
What was it doing here? He didn't want to look, because he knew what
he would find on the other side was the one thing he couldn't have,
but he'd come so far that he had to look. There was still a piece
missing in the middle. The glass remained a dull unresponsive gray
and he knew what belonged there had nothing to do with the fragments
of his mind that he'd pieced together, but something far, far more
important. He looked down at the vaguely heart-shaped fragment of
broken glass in his hand. He just had to put it in the proper place,
and step through, but handing his heart to fate like that turned out
to be a much more difficult task than the trek thus far. He didn't
know if he could do it.

TO
BE CONTINUED...
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Young At Heart