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New Beginnings	By : VSBree Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15636 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights are reserved to J.K. Rowling and company. I am not receiving compensation for this fiction.

Chapter List
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AN: Thank you to all those who reviewed. I do not have a beta so forgive some errors that I may have missed. I’m glad that the story was so well-received. Years after the movies and books, I would never imagine that there is still Severus/Harry lovers out there, but here you are, reading my story. So thank you again, and enjoy this second chapter.
Warning: This story will eventually be rated M for sexual content and relationships between two men.
Chapter Two
*
Harry fiddled with his hair, tossing it about and adding a bit of gel after having showered for the last hour. He had let his mind stray rather far in the shower and was now rushing through dressing himself. He tossed the first several shirts he chose, fashioning each one to his chest to compare in the mirror image of himself.
Finally, he fled his quarters, mildly happy with what he managed and entirely wrought to the bone with anxiety. It was nearly half past six; he would be early, though he imagined it would take him nearly twenty or so minutes to gather enough courage to knock on the man’s door.
The owl arrived earlier with the password to the painting guarding the man’s rooms. His heart had fluttered with the prospect of being alone with Snape in his own dwelling. It gave him gooseflesh all the way down his body.
*
Severus had planned to be sufficiently intoxicated by the end of the evening; he even toyed with the idea of having the boy wonder partake in the festivities but thought it a dismal idea. While he did think that the boy would become, dare he say it, welcomed company with his inebriation, it was also possible that the influence of alcohol might make him a bit too comfortable and lead to various mistakes he would no doubt regret with a vengeance later.
So, he set aside his whiskey for later in the evening; he was without a doubt going to desire it at its conclusion, knowing how his body had nearly betrayed him over tea. If such reactions were to occur during their late evening together, Severus would desire nothing more than to drown himself in Fire Whiskey.
For once, Severus was unable to remain his usually calm, collected self. The very idea that Potter would soon join him for a late evening chat had somehow caused his stomach to harden into stone, and a thin collection of perspiration to encase his form.
Ridiculous.
This was hardly something he should be so…affected…by. It was bloody Potter for Merlin’s sake. Potter. The devil spawn of James Potter whom he despised from his very core. Just because they had come to some sort of understanding hardly met they were friends.
Friends. The word alone inspired the bile from his stomach to seek an exit. Severus did not have friends; he certainly would never entertain a friendship with Potter. The very idea of it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Tonight was simply experimental. He was merely observing how the boy interacted and was in no way entertaining ideas of any sort of relationship; nor was he entertaining ideas of extending this invitation to another evening. This was simply courteous. The boy was his charge; he was merely offering a comfortable setting for Potter to ask anything that he might not understand. This was occupational. Nothing more.
A soft knock came at his door, alerting him to Potter’s arrival. Straightening himself, he easily closed the distance and trained his features to become unreadable.
*
Holy hell. Harry rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs, finding that he was suddenly very light headed. Maybe he should go back, rest up for the evening, and do this with Snape another time.
The door flew open. “I see that you are not entirely devoid of manners,” Severus greeted in the deep silky baritone that caused Harry’s body to become wracked with shivers. Snape waited a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Well, do you plan to remain in front of the door all evening, Potter, or do you think you might venture inside?”
“Right,” Harry said quickly as he immediately crossed the threshold and followed Snape to the couch that faced the fire hearth.
The room was dark with only the light of the fire to illuminate its depths. Harry was suddenly very uncomfortable. This was hardly what he had expected. He wondered if it would be considered impolite to ask for the lights to be turned on. He turned towards Snape who was already seating himself in a well-worn armchair.
“Have a seat, Potter.”
Taking the seat, he looked everywhere he could, everywhere but Snape that is. The clearing of the man’s throat finally forced him to turn his gaze towards the dark wizard. He was tempted to bite his lip, but he somehow managed to refrain. “Nice place, sir.”
Snape regarded him with a lift in his brow before the smallest of smirks graced the older man’s face. Harry’s heart nearly stopped at the sight. “Uncomfortable, Potter?”
“Maybe a little,” he admitted shamefully. “You’re a pretty intimidating man, sir.”
“Severus,” the older wizard offered with another smirk.
“S-Severus,” Harry repeated, nearly breathless with the overstimulation of his senses. The shadows that were playing across Snape’s face made the older wizard appear dark and deadly. It was that image that caused Harry’s body to heat with interest. Yes, he was definitely gay; at least when it came to this wizard before him.
“You are much quieter than I remember, Potter,” Severus mused. “From the various letters I received, I had mind to wonder if you ever ceased chattering.”
“I’m just a little nervous,” Harry said honestly. “You’re not really easy to talk to, sir. I mean, Severus.”
“Indeed,” Severus concurred with another lift to one side of his lips. “I am often referred to as being unfriendly.” There was a flash of amusement before he was continuing, “This, however, is not something that should come as a surprise to you, Potter.”
“Well, of course not,” Harry agreed with a soft chuckle. “I mean, you are definitely unfriendly, but much friendlier than during my school years in my opinion. I would have never imagined you inviting me to tea, and I would certainly never thought you’d have me join you in your personal quarters.”
*
Potter was much more perceptive than Severus had first credited him. It would seem that his actions had not gone unnoticed, but by the smile now gracing the boy’s face, it was not unwelcomed either. He almost appeared to be flattered that Severus would extend any sort of invitation to him. Severus disregarded the pang of guilt that his intentions were not done out of well-meaning or as a means to know the other better.
Still, the boy seemed much more expressive than he had first remembered. After the war, it was theorized that Potter had become reclusive and perchance even depressed, having lost many of his loved ones during the battle. However, if any of his current reactions a testament to his recovery, he had recovered rather well for a man who had seen more, lost more, than any man in his years.
Loathe as he was to admit it, he was impressed by the boy, even envied him for his ability to recover as quickly and easily as he had. Severus still battled his demons daily, never truly moving past his mistakes. Even as the boy, whom he took nearly everything from, had somehow managed to forgive him enough to seek his presence and attempt some sort of relationship. It beguiled him beyond reason.
Even as everything inside of his mind fought the notion of starting any sort of relationship with Potter, he could not help himself. He was truly enamored by this creature who blossomed so beautifully before his very eyes. It was as if he was possessed and no logical thought could possibly sway him otherwise.
Plunging forward, Severus asked, “Would you care for a drink, Potter?”
*
They had been sitting in prolonged silence for what felt like forever before the man offered him a drink. It was sudden and unexpected, but Harry was quickly nodding his assertion. Drinking between men was often a sign of friendship, right? It had been a long time since he had shared a drink with another man, so he wasn’t too sure what it really meant. However, he did know that a drink usually was a means to relax and enjoy another person’s company.
Severus was letting him stay. He would bloody well take anything the man could possibly offer.
“Do you have a particular taste or would Fire Whiskey be acceptable?”
“Fire Whiskey is fine, sir,” Harry said despite not truly knowing much about alcohol. He wasn’t really one for drinking, but it seemed as though he would be making a huge mistake to deny the request. So, he took the small glass offered and immediately downed the contents, his mistake instantly causing him to gasp and cough for dear life.
“Potter!” Snape was immediately at his side, summoning water into the glass and tipping it towards Harry’s mouth. “Drink the water. For Merlin’s sake,” the man growled with exasperation, “what possessed you to drink the entire amount in one fell swoop?!”
Harry was still having a hard time breathing against the overwhelming burning in his throat and nose. His eyes were streaming hot tears as he attempted to normalize his breathing long enough to respond.
“Have you never had alcohol, Potter?” Snape looked at him incredulously.
Deeming this an appropriate time for honesty, Harry merely nodded his head and rasped, “Not really, sir.”
“For Merlin’s sake…” Snape breathed with irritation. “If you are unaccustomed to something, Potter, it would be prudent to say so in the future.”
After his coughing subsided, Harry leaned back into the couch and was suddenly aware of how the action itself had caused his vision to sway in a way that made him feel slightly woozy. His body felt heavy as he melted further into the couch.
“Blooudy hell,” he slurred. “’eels nice.”
Snape grunted with disapproval. “Completely sloshed with one glass of Fire Whiskey. Why does this revelation come as no surprise to me?”
“Dunno,” Harry mused with a goofy grin. “Guess ‘m pre…pre…predicttabrle like that.”
“Do us both a favor, Potter, and cease speaking.”
“’ou got it, professor,” Harry responded with a chuckle, his entire body flushed with pleasurable heat. “Blooudy ‘mazing, this shtuff,” Harry added as he swung his head towards Snape, all two of them. Since when did Snape have a twin? There are a few fantasies he could muster with the prospect of two Snapes. He was suddenly chuckling again.
“Dear Merlin,” Snape groaned, “what could have possibly possessed me to give you alcohol? I believe it is time for you to return to your quarters, Potter.” Snape was suddenly in front of him, easily carrying his dead weight from the couch into a standing position.
“You hoove pretty eyesh,” Harry pointed out softly as he gazed with his head nearly inclined backwards at a ninety degree angle. “And you’re right shexy, you are.”
“And you, Mister Potter, are positively intoxicated,” Snape said as he adjusted Harry’s weight against him.
Harry had never felt so bold. His arm swung around the man’s shoulders, forcing Snape to turn towards him in astonishment before Harry was throwing the other arm around the other side of man’s shoulders and pressing heavily into the broad chest of the Potion’s Master.
“’idn’t know I wash gay before you,” Harry went on to explain as his head lulled this way and that. “Guesh you made me a poof…” he nearly crumbled into giggles.
*
Severus could hardly believe the state this boy was in. After a singular glass of Fire Whiskey, Harry was far more intoxicated than anyone he had mind to be around. Even in Severus’ drunken state, he maintained a good bit of motor skill and the ability to keep his words free from slurring. However, here he was with a sloshed Potter and a treacherous body that reacted to the slightest of brushes. Dear Merlin, the boy felt amazing. He smelled amazing. Everything about him was amazing.
It did not better his predicament that Potter was also speaking rather boldly; how much of those statements were truth, Severus would never be sure. The boy could easily be hallucinating that Snape was another person, though he doubted that the last statement argued whether or not that person was a man. Merlin, it was nearly breaking what little control he did have this evening.
No. Severus couldn’t possibly be attracted to Potter. Firstly, he was not gay, though he hardly dated enough in his lifetime to prove one way or another. Secondly, this was Potter. The second bit should be enough deterrent. Yet, he still battled the urge to throw caution to the wind and dominate those plump, wet lips now whispering words of encouragement that were nearly his undoing. He wanted nothing morph the Potter’s chattering into mewling and moaning.
No. This was barbaric. He couldn’t possibly be entertaining the idea of taking advantage of an inebriated Potter. He was not so desperate to seek comfort from someone who was clearly unable to make intelligent decisions. Certainly he was not in the habit of kissing boys, especially not boys that harbored the title of the savior of the wizarding world.
Severus was a man of integrity. Or so he told himself as he gazed a little too long at the flushed face of the boy in his arms. Dear Merlin, help him. Potter was truly beautiful.
*
Harry startled awake. His head felt like it was going to collapse in on itself. Bloody hell, it hurt. Groaning, Harry rolled to his side and was suddenly aware that he was in his bed, tucked beneath the sheets, and he had absolutely no memory of how he had gotten there.
The last thing he could remember, he was chatting with Snape. Snape. Harry sat up a bit too quickly and was immediately laying back down. He felt sick. His head was pounding. The light was way too bright. Merlin help him, he was ready to vomit.
When his stomach settled, Harry attempted to sit up again, careful not to jostle his stomach contents or sway his head to much. There was a bottle beside his bed that was labeled with a small parchment.
It read: Take this as soon as you wake. S.
Harry examined the bottle, judging if the contents were poisoned but deciding there could be worse things – like this hangover for example. He downed the bottle, nearly vomiting at the taste, and laid back down. The potion worked almost immediately, and Harry was eternally grateful for Snape’s consideration.
After a quick shower, and a small episode of pure mortification about all the possibilities of the night before, Harry went in search of a dungeon bat. He was hesitant to find out what he had done the night before, but if he never addressed it, he couldn’t apologize for it. So, gathering every bit of Gryffindor courage inside of him, he walked intently towards the dungeons.
Steeling himself, he knocked briefly on the office door, hoping that Snape chose to do his day work inside it today. To his surprise, a voice immediately called to him.
“Enter,” Snape said shortly before the door creaked open. Harry hesitated minutely before striding inside as confidently as he could muster. “I presume you found the potion, Potter.”
“Yes, thank you, sir. I mean, um, Severus,” Harry stuttered. “Uh, did I do anything last night that I should apologize for?”
“Nothing of which that was not my own retribution for offering the alcohol in the first place, Mister Potter.”
“Uh,” Harry started but was lost to his own confusion, “so you mean to say that I did, in fact, do something which would be apology worthy if not for your belief you had it coming?”
Snape’s eyes sparked with amusement, causing Harry to lose some of his previous bravado. He wasn’t sure if the man ever truly smiled, but this was bloody well close enough. He wanted to imprint the image into his memory.
“You would be hardly the first to make an absolute fool of himself while inebriated, Potter.”
“Making a fool, no. Making a fool in front of your former professor, yes.” Harry was sure that there was some small hole he could possibly crawl into, never to resurface again.
“Hardly,” Snape said as he stood from behind his desk. “I have stumbled upon many intoxicated students whom exceeded anything you might or might not have done the previous evening. I suggest you disregard the night before and instead focus your attentions to your syllabus.”
Oh shite. Harry had almost forgotten that he still had yet to start his syllabus.
“Right,” he said, suddenly feeling a weight that hadn’t been on his shoulders before. “Sorry for disturbing you, sir.”
“Would you deem it useful to do so here,” Snape offered evenly, “so that I might aide you should there be something you do not comprehend?”
“That would be brilliant, actually,” Harry said in surprise. “But wouldn’t that bother you, sir? I mean, you had to deal with me almost all day yesterday and now today…”
“If you are going to look for excuses, Potter, than I suggest you leave and complete the syllabus on your own.”
“No, I’ll stay,” Harry interjected quickly, “if that’s alright with you, sir?”
“Do you believe me a man that chooses to merely offer false invitations in hopes that the other party decline?” Snape had crossed his arms tightly against his chest and fixed a severe gaze on Harry.
“No, sir. Uh, Severus,” Harry denied softly. “Of course you would never do that. However, I do wonder if maybe you might feel obligated…”
“I oblige only when I see fit, Potter. You would do well to remember that,” Snape hissed finally. Harry was immediately regretting his well-meant consideration. Of course Snape would view the statements to be insulting; Harry was basically insinuating that the man was offering empty invitations.
“Um, in that case, I’ll take you up on your offer, si—Severus,” Harry quickly recovered. Taking a seat, Harry conjured the necessary materials before he started to write different notes of how he would like his class to proceed this year.
*
Nearly an hour had passed in companionable silence. Harry was busy scratching away at his lesson plan, and Snape was reviewing notes for the next potion he was to concoct.
“Despite the years of schooling, your penmanship is still horrid, Potter.” Snape was reviewing what Harry had written, offering different notes about several of the topics Harry wanted to cover in his classes. “Many of these lessons can be used alongside Potions, so depending on the order in which you decide, I could align my lessons to offer the potions that relate directly to them.”
“That would be brilliant, Severus,” Harry replied with enthusiasm.
He was surprised, to say the least, that Snape would be so dedicated to his work. He never imagined that Snape was interested in actually teaching where it could be understood; of course, he had been mistaken many times about Snape’s actions. The man was socially lacking and impatient (at least where the students were concerned), but it would seem he was considerate when he could be, though it was done entirely behind the scenes. He truly admired this new side of Snape.
“You are drooling once again, Potter. Am I such an anomaly that you must lose all sense of propriety by staring so intensely?”
Harry jerked out of his thoughts, heat flushing his cheeks as he babbled his apologies. “N-no, of course not. I was…I mean, I was just thinking that I had a lot of misconceptions about you. It…I won’t do it again.”
The spark was once more back in those fathomless eyes. Snape was obviously thoroughly entertained by the babbling mess that Harry was making.
Bloody hell, he was an idiot. He had barely noticed that he was staring; his thoughts were becoming increasingly harder to ignore. These feelings that were building, ready to erupt inside him, were also causing Harry to become wary. Maybe this close proximity wasn’t such a grand idea. Maybe all these one-on-ones were going to result in Harry doing or saying something that might ruin things between Snape and him forever.
“Well,” Harry started as he took the syllabus from Snape, “I should probably head to lunch. Thanks for everything, si—er, Severus.”
Snape seemed to comprehend what Harry meant to do and immediately suggested, “I too considered retiring for lunch. Shall we dine in my quarters?”
*
Dear Merlin, Severus was too far gone with this boy. Words and offers were just spilling unbidden from his lips. What he initially intended to say was that he would also retire for lunch, but the offer to have Potter join him was as surprising to him as it was to Potter it would seem.
He had broken the boy. Potter was stammering, neither speaking nor mute as a series of infuriating utterances trailed from his mouth. The boy was shell-shocked – as he should be. The invitation would mean that not only had they spent the previous day together, but that Severus was intending that today be spent in each other’s company as well. Even Severus was baffled by the suddenness of his desire to be around Potter.
“Well?” he encouraged against his better judgment. He could have easily withdrawn his invitation, but what sort of man would that make him if he did? So instead, he was encouraging the boy to speak up and respond.
Severus ignored his clammy palms and erratic heartrate. He attributed them only to the panic of having insinuated to Potter that he actually enjoyed the boy’s company. Severus did not enjoy the boy’s company. It was merely a means to pass time. After the school year commenced, their relationship would be simply a professional one. Nothing more and nothing less.
With his diversion calming the slow building panic, Severus was able to manage his usual aloof regard for the boy. “Unless you find it an unwelcome notion, Potter.”
“No!” Harry cried out finally. “I mean to say, yes, I will join you. I…thank you for inviting me.”
“Very well,” Severus said as he stood from the desk, a sudden feeling of elation at the reply.
Severus disregarded the nauseatingly giddy feeling in his chest. Severus Snape did not feel giddy. Could not feel giddy. The very idea of Severus being…giddy…made him nearly cringe. Instead, he focused on the rumble of his stomach and led Potter back to his quarters.
*
Snape had asked him to lunch. Snape, the man that he thought would be a nearly impossible person to get close to, asked him to lunch. Harry’s stomach was riddled with butterflies, wings fluttering in anticipation of what was possibly to come. He was trying to quell some of the hope that was nearly bursting from him, but it was no use. Snape asked him to lunch. Snape wanted to eat with him. Snape intended to continue talking to him. Merlin, he had to be dreaming.
Harry was following after the man, sure to be lost in the clouds with his smile permanently on his face. Unlike his companion, Harry was incompetent at schooling his expression to hide anything he was feeling. Some would even say he was an open book especially after the war. He had done his best to keep to himself, but his loved ones had broken in and helped him recover from his guilt.
Today, he was glad that he finally moved forward. If he had never moved past his guilt and sadness, he would have never taken the offer to come to the one place that held all those conflicting memories. And now, he was having lunch with Snape!
They sat for a time, chatting idly about what Harry could expect of his first week as the newest professor. Snape was surprisingly forthcoming with quite a bit of information which led to nearly an hour of Harry feeling like he should be taking notes. However, as their conversation changed directions, Harry was finding that Snape was surprisingly funny. The man’s sarcasm had a way of describing others that made Harry barely contain his laughter.
“I never knew that Professor McGonagall trained in ballet,” Harry laughed softly as he did his best to imagine it.
“She is far beyond her acrobatic years, Mister Potter, but the prima donna inside her is frequently exposed during tea. You will come to understand this yourself soon.” Snape had long finished his lunch, having schooled Harry many times on manners, and was now sampling a small glass of scotch. “And if you mention a word of this to her, I will poison you in your sleep.” Harry laughed heartily before nodding his understanding.
“I wouldn’t dream of throwing you under the bus,” Harry promised.
“Is that another one of those muggle sayings, Potter?” Though the man had sneered, there was a twinkle of curiosity in his dark depths.
Playing daft, Harry merely answered the question, “Yes. It just means that I wouldn’t think to get you in trouble with the headmistress. I don’t really think she’d believe you were the one who told me any way. I’m pretty sure anyone who knows us would think we were incapable of having a conversation that didn’t end in hexing.”
“Indeed,” Snape said as he swirled the liquid in his glass, “it eludes me how anyone is able to suffer your presence for longer than a few moments.”
“Uh-huh,” Harry replied with a small grin.
This was another discovery he had made today; Severus was capable of play. Though most of the times, Harry was sure the man truly meant to insult him, the other small percentage, Severus was baiting him into a game of words. Harry was all too happy to oblige, finding that he quite liked the verbal duels with Snape.
“Intolerable brat.”
“Sarcastic git.”
Harry had a hard time keeping his face expressionless, and after a few minutes of trying, he finally succumbed to laughter. Though Snape never laughed, or chuckled, or even harrumphed, he did smirk in a way that exposed his amusement and gave Harry tingles.
Their conversation continued through lunch and well into the evening, never fully ceasing until Harry was almost too tired for words from all the laughter.
*
When Harry finally recognized that time had gotten away from them, he stretched out his sore limbs and stood up from the comfort of the couch. “Well I should be going.”
“I imagine so,” Snape said evenly as he remained seated.
Snape almost appeared to be searching for something to say, but Harry doubted the man wanted to spend his entire day talking to him. So, he offered the older wizard a small smile and said softly, “I had a really grand time. I…thank you so much for everything, Severus.” He found that after the long hours, Snape’s forename was becoming much easier to say in place of ‘sir.’ Heading towards the fire, he pulled the floo from the bag and threw it in. “See you tomorrow.”
He thought he might have heard the man say something, but he was already stepping into the green flames and completely missed it. When back in his rooms, he found that he wanted nothing more to do than lie on his bed and think about his day with Snape. It had felt like a dream; a dream that he never wanted to wake from.
TBC
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New Beginnings