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Almost like Magic	By : lundbera Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 7348 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no claims to Harry Potter, either books or movies, and all rights belong to JKR. No money or other recompense is being made from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Almost like Magic
- 2-A most devious plan
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- 2
Harry was bored. The most excitement had been when Trevor, Neville’s toad, had jumped into Lavender’s lap, causing her to shriek and cast a scouring charm over both her clothes and the poor creature. In other words, the day had been dull. He sighed.

“You know, there is always homework if you are really that bored.” Hermione peered over the top of one of her ridiculously large books and frowned at him.

Harry groaned, and Ron plunked down on the bench next to him. “Why don’t you spend time with the Cho-sen girl,?”

“Ron, stop calling her that, you know she hates it and you shouldn’t support that dribble the Profit calls a story.” Hermione reprimanded him. The papers had taken to calling Chang that, much to Harry’s irritation, and it seemed that half the students—most notably the slytherins, had taken to calling her it as well.

“She’s at Quidditch practice, got a match coming up against us, and you know how competitive she gets…” Harry leaned his head on his hand while Ron and Hermione winced in sympathy. The last time they had a match against each other Harry had won and Cho had turned into a harpy; nagging him and generally being foul tempered for a solid week. It wasn’t an experience Harry wanted to repeat, but Quidditch came first. They both knew that.

“We could always play a prank.” Ron said pensively, eyes darting to potential victims. “It’s been awhile. Too quiet without Fred and George here, I reckon. A couple well-placed Weasley’s Wildfire Whiz-Bangs couldn’t hurt…” he grinned at Harry. “You game?”

“Certainly, my charming fellow. But who should our victim be?” a wide smile broke out on Harry’s face. It was just what the day needed; a bit of planning, the thrill of danger and potential punishment, perfection. They both ignored Hermione’s eye-roll and exasperated muttering.

“Snape.” She said suddenly, and the two of them looked around wildly, terrified that they might have been over heard, but the greasy old bat was nowhere to be found. The two boy’s shared a confused look.

“Too much reading…makes the eyes go a bit funny, they say.” Ron mock-whispered to Harry, who nodded sagely in agreement.

“Oh you two! I was saying, if you must prank someone—and lord knows you are going to get caught anyways…it might as well be Snape.” She gave a nervous little laugh as their mouths dropped open. “What? I can’t be naughty every now and then?” she huffed with a teasing half smile.

Harry nudged Ron, whose eyes had slightly glazed over at the mention of Hermione being naughty, and said “Er, well, I mean, he is a right old git, but ah, the punishment tends to be a bit worse when he’s involved, you know?”

“Did Hermione just have a bad idea?” Ron made a show of gaping at her, and the offended witch shoved a balled up piece of parchment into his mouth.

“I mean it guys! We are graduating in less than a year, so, really, what can he do? Plus, let’s face it, we are down so far in house points there is no chance of winning the house cup. Ravenclaw has it this year, what with all the fights between Gryffindor and Slytherin we are barely at a hundred points. So we get a few detentions, if we get caught.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Sort of like a senior prank?” Harry mused thoughtfully before nodding firmly. “I’m in.”

“Messing with the old bat? Of course I’m in!” Ron laughed. “We might as well go out with a bang!”

The remaining members of the golden trio groaned at his pun before putting their collective heads together to formulate a plan.

A few hours later later found Harry trudging a well-worn path between Hogwarts and the lake. It was dusk—almost curfew, not that Harry particularly cared, and a bitter wind teased the land, sharpening the feral bite of the cold until it sank its teeth into the chosen one’s bones. He shivered and pulled his threadbare jacket closer around him. It was the weekend and Harry’s robes were as filthy as only a young man’s could be, so he was forced to wear his older muggle clothes. No other students were around, and he glanced wistfully at the warmly glowing lights of Hogwarts. Home. He thought with a sad smile.

                He continued his journey to the lake’s edge, cast a quick warming charm on the ground and sat down on the rocky beach. He didn’t know why he was drawn to the lake at this time of night. It was a period of transition. Dusk giving way to an inky night, the final vestiges of the sun’s warmth giving way to the cold shine of the moon. It was a sort of deadly beauty, and an unfathomable mystery that Harry couldn’t help but be captivated by.

                Harry pulled his knees to his chest. To an observer, he might have looked like he was trying to keep warm, but it was more than that. He was holding himself together. His last year at Hogwarts—his home—and he had no idea what he wanted for the future. A family, love, to live past my eighteenth birthday, he thought sardonically, a bitter smile twisting his mouth. Surely it wasn’t too much to ask. He bit his lip, debating and imagining the various paths his life could take.

                “A fine night for trying to discern the future, young wizard.” a deep, inhuman voice rumbled to his left. Startled, Harry leapt to his feet, bringing his wand to level with his company’s chest.

“Firenze.” He sighed in relief, lowering his wand but not abandoning it completely. The centaur regarded him calmly, not in the least bit fazed by the wand that had just been pointed at him with lethal intent.

“The stars speak loudly and with many voices tonight.” Firenze shifted his gaze to the heavens, his golden eyes searching.

Harry awkwardly glanced up at the stars, finding nothing out of the ordinary except perhaps their clarity.

“Yea, they are pretty bright, aren’t they?” He flushed as the centaur’s strange eyes came to rest on his face, studying him intently.

“They are conversing about your future, young one. Wondering which path you will take. Many lead to destruction and sorrow. Does that frighten you?”

“Me? But-well, I mean—“ Harry stuttered, bewildered at Firenze’s words. “I guess…everyone has those choices. We can’t live in fear of making the wrong choice constantly. That’s no way to live.” He kicked a pebble into the lake, watching the ripples distort the clear surface.

The centaur gazed at him impassively. “Words of wisdom, or foolishness, depending on the life lived. Goodnight, Mister Potter.” He turned and trotted away, and Harry watched him until his form blended into the black line of the Forbidden Forest before cursing.

“Damn cryptic centaurs, probably get off on confusing “young wizards”.” He sighed, refusing to ponder over the strange creature’s words. It would only give him an incurable headache. Firenze often came and stood silently by him as he wandered the lake’s shoreline. And while his company wasn’t exactly unwelcome, he was uncomfortable by his intimidating presence. Part of him wondered if Dumbledore had asked Firenze to be his body guard, but an amused smile and a short “we do not work for wizards” was the only answer he got when asked.

Harry smacked the ass of his jeans, trying to work free some of the dust that had settled there while he was sitting and to regain some feeling in his numbed bottom. He hadn’t realized how cold it has gotten outside and took off at a leisurely pace back to the castle, only speeding up at the sight of the giant doors and the promise of warmth.

“Finally,” he breathed quietly as he snuck in, shoulders dropping in relief at the apparent lack of teachers or, worse yet, Filch. He hadn’t realized quite how late it had gotten, and he hadn’t thought to bring his invisibility cloak.

“Yes, finally, Potter. I was wondering how long you were going to make me wait. Detention, I think?” A cold, dark voice slithered over his spine like the snake it belonged to.

“Snape.” Harry winced before taking a deep breath and turning to face his most hated professor.

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They meet at last!! I am taking the place fairly slow with this story, but rest assured, things will heat up sooner or later. Either in anger or passion…you will just have to keep reading to find out! As always, reviews help me out and let me know what you guys are thinking and what direction you think this should go.
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Almost like Magic