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The Quiz	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15000 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor am I making any money off writing fanfiction for it. That's what makes it FANfiction, obviously. So leave me and my slashy little plot bunnies alone.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2: All I See is You

Well, Snape was worse than Krum. That seemed to be what Seamus was
thinking, because he teased Harry all the way to the Great Hall for
breakfast. Luckily, at nine o'clock on Saturday morning not much of
the student body was present. There was Hermoine with her nose
buried in a book; Ron saw her and became somewhat mute. Harry heaved
an internal sigh. The sexual tension between Ron and Hermoine was so
thick lately Harry honestly wished they'd just snog the hell out of
one another and get it over with. Harry couldn't help the mental
note that that silly game had been exactly right about those two--but
these things were bound to come out proper once in a while, just by
chance. It had been really weird at first--the thought of Ron and
Hermoine--together, in a way that would not be polite to be together
in front of him, but now he thought it would be better if they would
just get it over with because the awkward silences were bad enough
that sometimes when it was just the three of them he could imagine
he'd suddenly gone deaf.

"Buck up, mate," Ron said, slapping Harry's shoulder. "Just
a game."

Harry and Hermoine snapped to attention at the same time. "What
game?" Hermoine asked. Ron suddenly clammed up again, but Dean
Thomas said, "Seamus's mum gave him one of those compatibility
tests. Says if he doesn't start talking about girlfriends soon she's
gonna have to assume he's gay."

Harry snickered, remembering Viktor Krum.

"Oh, the girls have been playing that a lot lately too. They're
popular now," Hermoine replied. "You got someone bad then,
Harry?"

Harry's throat constricted suddenly and the boys started snickering
again. He tried to tell her, really. It was just a joke, a silly
game. He thought if he'd gotten Viktor Krum, he'd have been
able to just laugh it off too. It was just that nothing about
Severus Snape was a laughing matter.

Ron saved him by leaning forward and saying quietly, "Snape."
Hermoine's jaw dropped, but Ron quickly tried to soften the blow by
saying, "Seamus got Krum."

Seamus punched him in the arm.

It was exactly this kind of thing, Harry thought, that made him feel
so disjointed. Just, goofing off. Like kids. He'd been that way
once, hadn't he? He felt like he'd lost that somewhere. One day it
was just gone and he couldn't remember where he'd left it.

"Harry? Earth to Harry..."

"If you really think about it, he meets all the criteria though,
doesn't he?" Harry blurted out the first thing that came to
mind.

Everyone stared at him a moment before Dean laughed. "You're
still half asleep, aren't you?"

"Well, maybe," Harry answered. It was easier that way,
then something came to him and he smirked a bit. "Least it
wasn't Malfoy."

The table erupted. It broke the awkward moment and he felt an odd
sort of relief wash over him. It was just that it was all so fresh.
Dumbledore. Voldemort. Death Eaters. Snape's near death experience,
and the memories he'd never have let Harry see if he knew he'd have
to face him again. And somehow, here he was at Hogwarts. It felt
surreal. Sometimes he was sure he could feel Snape's eyes on the
back of his head. He had no idea what the man was thinking, but he'd
barely acknowledged his presence since the incident. He wondered if
Snape's thoughts were anywhere near as complicated as his own. Snape
didn't have to be a spy anymore. He didn't need to be utterly
detestable to him to keep him safe, but he was still 'Potter'--a sum
of his parts, like a patchwork quilt. Snape saw pieces of him, but
not the whole picture. He wondered what Snape would look like too,
if he stepped back far enough to really look at him, see what all
those fragmented memories really added up to.

Harry shook his head. 'What the hell am I thinking about?'

After breakfast Hermoine suggested he go back to bed. He looked
exhausted. He agreed--it gave him an excuse to wander around with
his ping-ponging thoughts. He was in such a daze that when he finally
wandered back towards Gryffindor Tower, his leg got stuck in the
magic stair. "Damn it!" It was something a first year would
do. At least no one was around to see. He started tugging, but
couldn't quite get the leverage to free himself.

"Mr. Potter, I am not going to judge you for how you like to
spend your weekends, however, it is most inconvenient for the rest of
us if you choose to take up half the staircase."

Harry's face turned rather red. He'd just been thinking about Snape,
and here the man was as if he could read his mind. Like Snape would
waste all of his free time trying to read the mind of one of his
least favorite students. Yeah, right. "...er..."

Snape had obviously been coming from Professor McGonagall's office.
She'd been coughing a bit in class the previous day. The empty vial
in Snape's hand had probably contained some kind of potion to cure
the common cold. Harry couldn't really focus on that though, not
with Snape staring down at him in his prone state.

Snape stared for a few more moments before moving down the stairs far
enough to reach out his hand. Harry looked positively humiliated
when he took it and let the older man pull him out of the step. He
grimaced as he found his feet again. His ankle hurt. Snape seemed
to notice.

"You've sprained it," he said.

"I...no, just twisted a little. It's fine," Harry stumbled
awkwardly.

"You're lying. Come with me, Potter."

"But..!"

"Stop arguing. Madam Pomfrey is quite busy just now due to a
prank pulled by one of your classmates involving a hiccuping draught.
You will accompany me to my office where I will administer the
appropriate treatment. If you refuse, I will be forced to carry
you."

Harry couldn't bear further humiliation for now, so his head drooped
and he carefully limped along behind his professor. "Yes sir,"
he answered sullenly. With his eyes on the ground, he noticed
something strange. Snape's usually long, purposeful stride had
shortened until he found himself limping only two steps behind him.
He could see the flow of Snape's cloak periodically interrupted along
the way. Was he looking behind, checking up on him? That couldn't
be, right? He didn't dare look up. His ankle throbbed, but the
awkward thrumming of his heartbeat distracted from it.

He didn't realize they'd arrived at Snape's office until his head
collided with the man's spine gently. "I...er...sorry."

Snape didn't answer. He opened the door and entered, holding it
open. "Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair in front of
his desk with his wand. It turned to face the door.

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat and did as he was told. Snape
dropped to one knee and gently untied Harry's sneaker, pulling it and
his sock away, pushing up Harry's pant leg a bit to inspect the
damage.

It was bizarre. He knew why Snape was on his knee, that there was
reason and purpose behind it. He just had such a hard time imagining
Snape kneeling to anyone. He had too much pride. But he knew there
must have been times when Snape had found himself on his knees,
submitting to Voldemort, or maybe for other reasons, but he didn't
like the thought of Snape bowing down to anyone or anything. He
didn't know why.

His ankle tingled where Snape's wand touched it. It felt like a cool
breeze was shifting just underneath the skin. He watched the older
man carefully, the way his hair cascaded across his face, concealing
his features. From above, Snape seemed more fragile. Not weak,
really--it was more like he seemed somehow more human, or like he
wasn't impenetrable, like things could really affect him and crack
through his hard outer shell. He seemed more like the boy he'd seen
in Snape's memories than the bitter, grouchy potions master.

The way Snape's hair fell, Harry could see into his thick collar.
The skin was discolored. He realized it was scarred where Nagini had
bitten him and the memory of Snape on the verge of death made Harry
shiver.

"I know it's cold, but stay still. I'm nearly finished."

"It's not that," Harry answered. He hardly noticed his
foot now. "Does it hurt at all?"

"What?" Snape looked up at him, his brow slightly etched as
if he was trying to figure out what was going through the teenager's
mind because what was coming out of his mouth made little to no
sense.

"Your neck. I mean I...the scars..." Harry stumbled, took a
breath. He could still remember how Snape had said 'look at me!' How
badly he'd wanted to see Lily's eyes staring back at him in his last
moments. "I mean..."

Snape looked back down, tucking his wand away. "Concern, Mr.
Potter? It's a bit late for that, isn't it?"

"That's not fair," Harry frowned. "You don't make it
easy for people to talk to you, you know. It's not like I could say
anything before. And in case you didn't notice, you've been ignoring
me." Words just spilled out of his mouth without warning.

"I haven't been ignoring you," Snape said after a stretch,
pulling Harry's sock on with a snap. "I've been avoiding you."

A sharp laugh escaped Harry's mouth at the admission. It came out
before he could stop himself. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"
he asked.

"No."

"...oh." The silence between them became awkward again.
Harry was painfully aware of the fact that Snape was tying his
sneaker. "My eyes...are really that much like my mom's?"
He didn't know why he'd asked. It just came out. He already knew
that they were nearly identical.

Snape had gotten up and moved along the wall. His elegant fingers
traced along a series of vials as if looking for a specific one.
'Elegant? I think they're elegant?' Harry wondered but was
snapped from that thought.

Snape sighed. "...when I thought I was going to die, I did some
things that I now regret," he said slowly. "I wasn't
thinking clearly and I...did want to see your mother one last time,
but all I saw looking into your eyes, Potter, was you."

Harry was shocked speechless as Snape pulled out a vial of pale blue
liquid. "Take this. It is a mild painkiller. For the moment,
you probably feel fine, but if you walk around on it too much there
may be some irritation. One sip will be sufficient to dull the
pain."

"You saw...me?" Harry blurted. He felt his heart
thumping wildly in his chest.

Snape frowned. It was obvious he didn't want to be discussing this.
His personal thoughts were something he had always guarded closely.

"The eyes are the window to the soul, Potter. To look for a dead
woman in yours was a most supreme folly on my part. Your mother
would never have looked at me the way you did at that time."

"What did you see, Professor? In the way I looked at you?"
He stood up and took a step closer. His body moved on its own. Harry
had been distraught. He still couldn't quite get words to match what
he was feeling. The closest he could get was 'tragic'. Dumbledore
had lived a long, full life...but Snape had never really lived.
That's what Harry thought anyway. And he owed Snape so many
apologies. There were so many things he knew he should say--at least
one for each of his years at Hogwarts. He couldn't say any of them,
but at that time, it felt singularly devastating that he would never
get the chance.

Snape's moment of weakness passed and Harry saw his shoulders tense.
"We are finished, Mr. Potter. You may leave."

Harry was sure Snape wanted to tell him not to speak a word of what
was said, but there was no way he could tell anyone something that
could humiliate them both so completely. It was utterly private. He
wouldn't share that instant where Snape had opened up to him with
anyone, no matter what.

"Do I have to?" Harry couldn't believe the words coming out
of his mouth. And he couldn't believe that he'd just suddenly
grabbed Severus Snape by the wrist. It was an impulse, but he felt
like if he left now, the damage would be somehow irreparable.

Snape turned sharply and stared down at him. Harry was sure no one
had ever asked to stay in his office before, and couldn't help
a slightly foolish grin at the thought. He felt like his heart was
going to burst out of his chest with the way Snape's dark eyes were
staring through him. 'Merlin, he has the most amazing eyes,'
Harry thought. "I...there are things I should say to you. Lots
of things, but, I can't say them."

Snape quirked a brow at Harry's rambling. "Then don't say
them," he stated after an extended silence. His expression was
completely unreadable. There was this annoying little voice in the
back of Harry's mind rattling off useless information:

Hermoine and Ron are practically married already. Neville did ask
Ginny to that ball. Dean and Luna get on pretty well now too, now
that he's gotten past the fact that she's nuts...

"Then what should I say?" Harry stated at last.

"I should think 'I'll see you in class, Professor' would
suffice, on your way out the door." Snape's equilibrium had
been decimated. Harry didn't know what he was trying to accomplish,
he just had a feeling that if he didn't force some kind of change in
the way they dealt with one another now, it might never happen. He
was still holding onto Snape's wrist, and daringly slipped his grip
down and tried to twine their fingers.

Snape startled. He couldn't conceal his shock and pulled away.
"What are you playing at?" he demanded.

It broke the mood, snapped Harry back to reality and he looked
ashamed of himself. "I...no, I'm sorry, Professor. You're right,
that...I was out of line. I'll just...I'll go now." He turned
and ran out of the office, mortified.

"Idiot! Stupid git! What were you thinking? How did you
expect him to respond? You're just a kid to him, his student, at
best. There's no way he'd ever...what were you even trying to
accomplish?"

But even as he demanded it of
himself he knew. The compatibility test had only been a catalyst.
Looking back the feelings burning sharp, painful coils into his chest
had been there for some time--closeted and denied. Hatred turned to
obsession turned to a very, very unconventional kind of love. 'Love?
Right. He hardly speaks to me, and when he does it's almost never
nice.' But there was more to
Snape than what came out of his mouth! Harry knew it too well. What
was under the constant barrage of insults, the subtle kindnesses
hidden behind his veiled eyes, that's what drew him to the man.
That's what made him feel like such an idiot for that episode just
now. He'd probably get even more brutally abused than ever come
Monday Potions for being so presumptuous.

As he ran up the stairs, determined
to crash onto his bed and hide there until supper, his foot got
caught in that damn stair again. The embarrassment and frustration
was almost enough to make him cry. 'Defeated Voldemort,
but life still sucks,' he
thought. 'Brilliant. Why did it have to be him.'

But he knew that deep down it probably always had been.
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The Quiz