Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Run to Me	By : Cardinal Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 3076 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Harry rolled over with a contented sigh; he hadn't slept so well in what felt like years. Even at Hogwarts he constantly had to listen to the snores of his roommates. I'm surprised Snape didn't make me sleep with his house-elves.

The wizard rolled from his bed, his toes digging into the thick rug and bringing a childish grin to his face. "What would Ron and Hermione say if they knew I was here?"

As if in answer to his question, Hedwig hooted shrilly and fluttered her wings, letting Harry know that she wasn't happy at being so idle over the past month since he'd been gone from Hogwarts to the Dursleys.

Walking around the room in only his boxers, Harry snooped until he found some parchment and a quill. Sitting down on the bed he scrawled two hasty letters which, as usual, were barely legible. He included only the basics. Where he was, at Snape's house, and how he was doing, which was fine. Of course, he completely lied as to the reason why he was at Snape's manor. He simply told them that it had to do with some Order business that he wasn't allowed to discuss.

Signing his name with a hasty scribble, Harry turned to find Hedwig had settled on the edge of his desk and was patiently waiting for the two letters, "You've really missed this, eh? Well, girl, I’m never going back to the Dursleys again."

Taking Hedwig to the window, Harry pushed it open and extended the snowy owl outside. He stepped back and watched as she fluttered off, her long wings easily taking in the sky, and soon she was gone from his sight.

"Well, I guess I'll go see what Snape plans on feeding me." Harry suddenly wished that he had a flask and his own food, like Mad-Eye Moody, at least then he could guarantee that it wasn't poisoned.

Slipping on a baggy pair of pants and a shirt that was far too large, Harry left off his robe, stepped into his shoes, and headed downstairs while settling his glasses onto his nose.

Since it was now light in the manor, Harry took the opportunity to look around Snape’s home. Artwork was all over the place but Harry, being Harry and not Hermione, couldn't even begin to appreciate it, besides the occasional, "That looks cool."

As Harry was closely inspecting a particularly gory painting of a snake latching onto a plump rabbit, which was the sort of thing he expected to see in Snape's house, he was politely interrupted.

"Ehem. Mister Harry Potter, sir." A waist-high house elf stood politely by his side.

Harry looked down and almost laughed at how Snape-like the creature was. Tall, prim, and absolutely proper in every way. "Yes?"

"Master Snape sent me to guide you to the dining room. He said that you may have a hard time finding it."

The Gryffindor wanted to snort because he could very well imagine what Snape had said. It would be something more along the lines of "The imbecile must have tripped over his ego on the way here."

"Thank you." Harry didn't have a reason to be rude to the house elf, especially since Hermione would blow a fuse if he was.

The creature, so unlike Dobby in every way possible, strode ahead of Harry and led the wizard to a dining area that was, actually, quite small and cozy. Harry figured that there was probably a larger one somewhere else for when larger groups of people were there. Of course, Harry didn't know of anyone who would come to Snape's house. Unless it was a Death Eater party.

"Get lost, Potter?" Snape sneered with his usual venom, not even bothering to look up from his plate.

Harry made a face. "Of course, Professor, what else would you expect from James Potter's son?" He sat down at the only other place at the table that was set, which was all the way on the other end, as far away from Snape as possible.

Snape simply snorted and looked up, his face momentarily losing its sneer as the morning light showed the bruises on Harry's face much better than the weak light at the Leaky Cauldron had.

"So, Potter, what happened to your face?" Snape questioned.

Alarm bells went off in Harry's head because the last thing that he was going to discuss with Snape was how his uncle held him down and raped him. It would just be one more card for the snarky potion's master to play against him.

"I told you. I fell." Harry tucked into his plate, finding that he was positively ravenous and the food was incredible.

"Give me more credit than that, Potter, I know that you didn't fall. You may be stupid, and egotistical, but clumsy is something that you're not. That's Longbottom's job." Snape’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Harry, determined to learn the truth.

Harry shrugged. "It really doesn't matter what happened, does it? The only thing that matters is that I ran away, Dumbledore stuck you with me, so now I'm your problem to enjoy over the summer." It was becoming a common thing. Dumbledore was always handing him off to someone.

"Hm.” Snape was uncharacteristically speechless at Harry’s correct summation of the situation. “You'll have most of the manor to yourself, I rarely leave my dungeons, and if I'm not here then that is because I am away on business. You are not to leave this manor for any reason unless you have my permission." Snape's voice was deadly serious and not to be argued with.

Harry sighed, realizing that if he wasn't a prisoner at the Dursleys, then he'd just have to be one at Snape's manor. At least he had stopped interrogating him about the bruises.

The rest of the breakfast meal passed by in silence, although Severus could not escape the way the boy wolfed down his food as if he were expecting it to suddenly be taken from him. With a sneer of disgust at the boy's manners, Snape rose and left, heading straight for his laboratory and his precious potions.

When Harry was finished, he leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach with a sigh. He hadn't eaten so well since the farewell feast on the last day of school. A nagging voice, which sounded a lot like Hermione's, reminded him that he had some summer schoolwork that he could be working on since he had plenty of time on his hands.

Harry strolled leisurely back to his room, confused a bit by the warm feeling that the manor gave off with its large open windows that poured in the sunshine, and thick rugs and lush tapestries that absorbed the sun's warmth.

Going to his room, Harry gathered his school bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, he trudged back downstairs and stopped in the middle of the foyer where all the bright patches of sunlight met to form a circle. Deciding that this was the perfect spot, Harry dumped all of his books out and sat down in the middle of the circle with quill in hand and fresh parchment stacked on the side.

"Er, house elf?" Harry tried.

The snarky Snape-like house elf appeared. "Sterling, sir. Is there something you require?"

"Could I have a cup of pumpkin juice?" It would be just the thing to sip on while doing his work.

"Right away, sir." With two 'pops,' the house elf was back and sat a cup of pumpkin juice, on a coaster of course, on the marble floor beside Harry. "Is there anything else, Mister Potter?"

Harry shook his head, "Thank you, Sterling." The boy turned back to his work and the house elf quietly stalked off to do whatever it was that house elves did.

Lying down on his stomach, Harry brought his transfiguration book up to where he could see it through his glasses and began reading the assigned chapters. He didn't know why he was in such a working mood, but he breezed through his transfiguration essays and quickly began on the History of Magic essays as well, writing the full twelve inches about the goblin war of 1912.

Around lunchtime, Severus came up from his lab and stopped short when he looked up to see Potter lying in his foyer with all of his books and materials scattered everywhere, his head bent in deep thought as he balanced a potions book on one knee from where he was sitting cross-legged.

"I think this is the first time that you've ever done your summer assignment Potter, and not had Granger do it for you, that is," Snape said as he finally walked into the circle of sunlight.

Harry, who flinched as he hadn't heard Snape approach, squinted up at his professor. "I know, miracle of miracles isn't it?"

Snape grunted, not at all pleased that he hadn't been able to make Harry angry yet. With a swish of his robes, which he still wore even in the comfort of his own home, Snape was off to the kitchen to swipe some lunch and then retreat back to his dungeon filled with smoking cauldrons.

As the day progressed the light began to fade and soon Harry was bathed in an orange glow of light, and then it was pale and ghostly faint, signaling that the day had ended and the night had awakened.

Harry groaned and stretched, hardly believing that he'd spent his entire day on his schoolwork, and managed to finish it all. 'I've really taken too many hits to the head.” The Gryffindor stacked all of his papers and books up and shoved them back into his bag.

The Boy Who Lived turned around and his heart lurched to a stop. Standing in front of him was a towering figure in a Death Eater's robe, the ghostly white mask staring back at him. All he could see was the glittering black eyes behind it.

Harry was too stunned to do anything, before he could even think to scramble for his wand a hand came up and lifted the mask.... Snape!

The man actually barked out a laugh. "Be glad that I wasn't someone else, Potter, or you'd have been dead. I'm just leaving; remember, don't leave this house." With that, Severus swept away and Harry was left staring after him, still frozen.

Here he was, Golden Gryffindor, supposed Hero, the BIG WEAPON, and he hadn't even had time to draw his wand. He'd been frozen. What if Snape had been a real Death Eater or Voldemort? The encounter left Harry shaken and realizing exactly how far behind he was. Sure, he was always the top in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class but he was always prepared for the attack, when he was caught off guard, however, it was something totally different.

Shaking his head to wake himself from his daze, Harry trudged upstairs, worry now clouding his mind as anxiety and nervousness twisted itself into a hot coil in his stomach. The day would inevitably come when he would have to face Voldemort, but would he even have a fighting chance?
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Run to Me