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Book of Shadows	By : lux Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 12583 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Sometimes, Harry thinks he sees Snape staring at him. The moments are brief, almost fleeting but the itch on his neck never lies. In Potions, he can feel the gaze hot on his back as Snape stalks up and down between the desks but when he turns to see, Snape is looking in the other direction. Harry knows, though. He caught him once when they were passing in the hallway and Snape didn't look away in time. Harry had smiled at him and thought he saw a little color in Snape's cheeks.
Harry likes to lie on his bed and dream about Snape cornering him in a dark corridor late at night. They argue about him being out after curfew and Snape accuses him of disrespect and negligence. Every time, Snape ends up fucking Harry against the wall. On rare occasion, Snape lets Harry fuck him back. He likes to think about fucking Snape; his superior, his teacher; but he can't help the rush he feels when he imagines Snape pushing him against the wall. It's usually slow and Harry can almost feel the stones grinding into his back and Snape's breath hot on his face. It feels so real as Harry masturbates quickly and quietly on his bed.
Snape has been staring at him all week. As much as he wants it to be something else; Harry is sure that Snape only watches him because he has to. So Harry rolls over once he's cum and pretends that he wasn't just thinking about Snape.
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During class on Thursday, Harry knows that McGonagall is trying to think of a way to talk to him. He wonders if Snape mentioned that he skipped dinner on Sunday or about his book. Luckily, his book is safely tucked away in his dorm so he doesn't worry. They couldn't possibly know what's inside the hard cover binding. No one has seen his cuts, he is sure of that. His grades are almost perfect, second only to Hermione and just barely. He can't imagine what McGongall could want with him so he waits patiently for Transfiguration to end. Right on schedule, "Potter, I'd like to see you after class." Harry nods and packs up his things, waits for everyone to leave before he approaches McGonagall's desk. He waits for her to address him as she pretends to straighten the rolls of parchment on her desk. "Potter, some of the other teachers have noticed a change in your attitude over the last few weeks." He's been waiting for this. He knew it would come eventually. "And while we're all thrilled that you're more serious about your studies, you've been neglecting your friends and you've quit Quidditch." Harry wonders why she's stating the obvious. Perhaps she just likes to hear herself talk. He doesn't say anything; even during the pauses where he should be defending himself. He just nods instead. He knows all this. McGonagall looks frustrated. She decides to try a different approach. "What do you plan on doing after you leave Hogwarts?"
He cocks his head, studies her face. He thinks that she must've been gorgeous when she was young. He knows he's stalling but he can't help it. "I don't know," he decides to say. He's not sure why he's lying to her. There's no shame in what he wants to do after he graduates. Maybe he just wants to keep it a secret. Why should he tell McGonagall that he has talent outside of sports and killing people?
"Do you plan on going back to your relatives? Apply at the Ministry? They'd jump at the chance to have you. Maybe -"
"-Professor." He almost laughs at the look of disbelief on her face. Apparently she's never been interrupted by a student before, he thinks gleefully. "With all due respect, what I plan on doing is none of your business." He goes back to his desk and picks up his bag.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mrttertter."
He turns back to her; positively delighted at the way this meeting is going. "For what? For not giving you what you want? That's terribly selfish, Professor. I have classes to get to. Excuse me." He leaves before she gets a chance to rebuke him. His hands shake as he makes his way to his next class. He's sure he'll get detention later, maybe something worse but he can't find the strength to care. It was none of her business, he tells himself over and over again. It's no one's business but his. It takes him several minutes to realize that Transfiguration was his last class of the day so he starts back to the Tower. He knows that McGonagall will tell Dumbledore and possibly the rest of the staff. Maybe it was petty to keep his future a secret but he wants to disappear into the Muggle world. He doesn't want a single Wizarding soul to know where he is. Maybe he'll even go to America, leave Europe completely. That makes him smile.
"Skipping dinner again, Potter?"
Stay calm. Your book is safe. He can't get anything out of you. But most of Harry's courage was used up with McGonagall and he's tired and he wants to go back to his room and bleed for a little while before he studies. "Um.. yes, sir."
Professor Snape is leaning against the wall and Harry can imagine his naked body almost perfectly. "Tell me something - do you think you're too good to eat with the rest of the school?"
Familiar ground. Harry knows this. It's like being a First Year again but Harry wants something different now. "Yes," he says with conviction.
Professor Snape stumbles. Harry has shifted the playing field. "What did you say?"
"I'm better than everyone else in this school because I killed people. Oh yes, that makes me amazing." Sarcasm is dripping off of him like so much rain. It sounds clich� even to his own ears. The bitter, washed up hero looking for some comfort, some sympathy. But he's not. Harry doesn't want sympathy. He doesn't want anyone to understand. He doesn't want to be whiny and pathetic. He handles things the way he thinks they need to be done and he doesn't need help. He has everything under control. He is strong; he is competent. He doesn't need anyone. He watches Snape as he processes everything. It gives Harry more time to think of how he wants to draw his professor. Snape walks around Harry. He can feel something coming off of Harry but he's not sure what it is. He hates stalling. He hates not knowing what to say even more, especially to a student. Harry makes it simple for him. "I'm going back to the tower. Good-night, Professor."
Snape glo. . "You have not been dismissed."
"The conversation isn't going anywhere." He shrugs easily. "Why waste our time?"
"Detention, Potter. Eight o'clock."
Harry shrugs again before walking away, completely stumped as to where his boost of confidence is coming from. It's almost frightening. But he manages to make it back to his dorm without faltering his step. He doesn't want Snape to see him like that. As he climbs the stairs, Harry thinks about how he does want Snape to see him: as a man. He wants Snape to just see him, really. More than a student, more than a boy, more than a fucking scar on his forehead. He thinks about how ironic it all is. Snape treats him like a celebrity in his own way. Really, he's hardly different than the rest of the world. The only real difference is that the world loves him and Snape doesn't and that's what Harry wants - for Snape to love him. He may not need anyone but that doesn't mean he doesn't want someone.
He pulls out his book and turns to a fresh page. The pencil is thick but rough in his hand as he draws Snape. He gets satisfaction from drawing him. He can touch Snape on paper, create him, make him perfectly flawed. Harry is careful as he pencils in the Dark Mark. It's the ultimate flaw. He wonders what Snape would think if he knew that Harry draws him naked; draws his thighs, spends several minutes perfecting his cock, makes his toes slightly spaced. Snape is beautiful on paper.
He draws well past midnight, unaware of the time as it ticks by. When he's finally finished, it's nearly three a.m. He can't bring himself to care about his missed detention as he carefully puts his book away and begins to study. Hermione would be proud if she knew how much studying he does now. He loses himself easily in Charms until the sun is peaking out and over the horizon. He puts his book away and goes down to watch the sunrise over the lake. He makes sure to grab his cloak before he goes. The stairs creak beneath his feet; he moves quickly and easily through the corridors. Sometimes he feels like the castle knows him and keeps him safe. It's a comfort as he leaves and the dewy grass is springy beneath his feet. He spreads out his cloak and sits on it to protect his clothes from getting wet. He watches as the sun rises over the lake, the colors bleed over the water as it ripples. He sees the shadow of the giant squid as it glides under the surface.
He looks past the sun and slips away into a place without time that is akin to the place behind the fireplace. When he refocuses it is time for breakfast and soon for classes but he can't tear himself away so he continues to stare into nothingness until it's time to go back to the Tower and collect his things. His head is foggy and he's having trouble seeing as he goes. He reaches the door without trouble and he's momentarily blind as his eyes go from bright sun to dim torches. He's nearly to the Tower and this time he can feel Professor Snape behind him. He stops and turns, blinks slowly at his teacher.
"You skipped detention last night, Potter."
He shrugs. "Just being what you want me to be." He's not sure if it sounds pathetic or not. He hopes it doesn't.
"Don't be petulant."
"I'm not. I'm simply telling you why I wasn't in detention, sir."
Professor Snape rolls his eyes but plays along. "Fine, why weren't you in detention?"
"Because I knew that you would enjoy it more if I didn't show up. That's what you want isn't it? For me to be stuck up and to think that I'm better than everyone. Newsflash, sir, I'm not particularly fond of being gawked at but you seem to enjoy yelling at me so I thought I would indulge you." Right, I really need to figure out where this is coming from so I can stop it before he kills me. He waits for Snape to snap.
"As much as I appreciate the sentiment," his says, words dripping with sarcasm. "It was not necessary. If I thought it would do any good, I would take you to see the Headmaster."
"Fat chance that'll do anything."
Snape shudders. "For once, I agree with you."
"Potter!" Female. Distinct. McGonagall.
Snape smirks. "Hello Minerva. What's Potter done now?"
She glares at both of them. "The Headmaster wishes to speak with you."
Harry sighs and rubs his eyes. He waves his free hand, "Lead the way."
McGonagall bristles but turns and leaves Harry to follow behind her. Snape, not one to miss an opportunity of this magnitude, follows along for the ride. He knows that Dumbledore will do little more than put riddles in the boy's head but he could do with a good riddle and his first class doesn't start for another half an hour. Harry blindly follows behind both of his professors. He's starting to think that he shouldn't talk when he hasn't slept in a week. He thinks that perhaps that's why he stopped talking when he stopped sleeping; it was too easy for him to say something stupid so he just stopped all together. He really needs to take that back up before he gets himself into more trouble. He nearly trips up the stairs and he hears Professor Snape cough away a laugh and Harry almost smiles because he made the big, bad Potions Master laugh. He can't help feeling giddy and stupid as he enters Dumbledore's office. It's still as immaculate and red as he remembers. It's good to know that it hasn't changed, he decides.
McGonagall paces as they wait for Dumbledore to appear. She hates that he always has to make an entrance in his own office. She thinks about yelling for him but that's not something she wants to do in front of Potter and she's not quite sure why she's so angry with the boy, anyway. She ignores it and concentrates on just being angry.
Finally, Dumbledore comes slowly into the room and descends from his stairs to the ground level of his office. "Severus, Minerva, Harry. Please, sit." Harry is already firmly in a comfy over-stuffed chair and from the look Snape is giving him, it's Snape's usual chair. Harry only smiles sweetly at him and makes a show of squirming further into the chair. Yup, he's definitely trying to get himself killed. McGonagall sits near Dumbledore's desk and Snape takes a seat somewhere that Harry can't see but he can feel his presence. Dumbledore sits neatly behind his desk. "I've received some inquiries about you, Harry." Harry decides this is definitely the time to stay quiet and presses his lips firmly together so this renegade behavior doesn't find a way to lash out again. "Mostly people who're interested in what you're going to pursue after you leave Hogwarts." He groans internally. More people wanting to know what isn't their business. "And I must admit, I don't know what to tell them. Some are job offers and I thought I would just give them to you and you could make a decision yourself."
"Giving me a chance to make my own decision for once? I'm honored." Stay shut, you stupid mouth! "It's nice to know I have a choice over what I do after I leave." He can feel the hostility rising in the room but it's not coming from Dumbledore. Dumbledore is as calm as ever and fucking twinkling and Harry can't stand that. "Sir, could you stop twinkling? It's really annoying and it's really not as endearing as you think it is." Professor Snape coughs again and Harry wishes he would stop that because it makes him want to jump Snape and that's definitely not something he should do in Dumbledore's office.
The Headmaster merely chuckles and pulls the bundle of letters from his desk drawer. He places them on the edge of his desk, a clear indication that Harry must get them himself. He goes up slowly and as he reaches out for them, Dumbledore's hand curls around his wrist and his eyes are no longer twinkling as he stares daggers into Harry. "I suggest that you are more careful about what you say, Mr. Potter," his voice is low but hard. His thbrusbrushes against something he doesn't expect as he's holding Harry's arm. Slowly, he turns the boy's hand over and pushes up his sleeve to see a long cut peaking out. He lets go as abruptly as he latched on and settles back into his chair. Harry takes the letters and tucks them into his robe pocket. "You may go. All of you."
Harry cocks his head to the side, watches Dumbledore as he stares back. He smiles brightly at the Headmaster before nearly bounding down the stairs. He leaves quickly so the other two professors don't catch up to him. He makes a mad dash for the tower so he can make it to his first class on time. As he pounds up the stairs, his pace slows until he's walking and wondering why he's so eager to go to class. He won't need any of this once he's graduated. He'll be around Muggles who wouldn't know a wand from a stick. He goes up to his room and climbs onto his bed, draws the curtains shut and giggles madly because he isn't part of the system. He is free.
Humming softly, he takes out the letters from his pocket and spreads them out on the duvet. He picks one at random and reads it, notices that Dumbledore has already broken the seal.
Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,
It has come to our attention that young Mr. Harry Potter is going to be finishing his last term at Hogwarts this spring. As such, we would like to offer him a job in the Magical Law Enforcement Department here at the Ministry-
He frowns. Why did they address Dumbledore as if he were Harry's keeper? He balls up the letter and throws it to the other end of the bed. He grabs another one and reads it. It says the same thing except it's something about Auror training. All the letters say the same thing and they all end up in a crumpled heap at the end of him bed. Flustered, he decides that he's had enough for the day and is going out.
He empties his school bag and puts in his book and his bag of coal. Slinging it over his shoulder, he covers himself with his Invisibility cloak and heads down to the kitchen. It won't do if he's starving to death. He tickles the pear and the portrait swings open. "Dobby?" He pulls off the cloak so the elves aren't frightened. Dobby appears in front of him, his ears quivering with joy and his eyes shining. "I need food for one person to last me the rest of the day." Without a word - an improvement, Harry thinks - Dobby rushes around the kitchen and re-appears with several bundles that Harry places in his bag along with his book and bag of charcoal. "Thank you, Dobby." Harry puts the cloak back on and leaves. He's almost skipping as he winds through the corridors and out to the rolling green grass. He starts to hum loudly as he walks towards the Forbidden Forest. For all of Dumbledore's warnings, Harry is not afraid as he passes the outer rim of trees and descends into the misty depths. He keeps the cloak on just in case, though.
He smiles brightly as the birds flitter from tree to tree and somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He heads towards it, idly munches on a piece of bread as he goes. He doesn't worry about staying on the path. He knows he'll be able to find his way out eventually and he is not afraid. Fear is what keeps the students from the forest but Harry has learned that there is nothing to fear, not even fear itself. Twigs and branches crunch beneath his feet as the sound of water gets louder. He can feel it in every bone in his body. It's almost as if the water is racing through him. He finally sees it, his heart pounds loudly and his insides flutter because he knows he's found something wonderful, something beautiful.
He steps into the clearing and his breath catches in his throat. His eyes shimmer because beauty like this shouldn't be hidden from an and and he knows it is his duty to draw it, make it eternal. He knows it doesn't apply to this spring though, it's magically maintained. It will be around forever. Yet, how many people have actually witnessed it's beauty? The lush green grass and the crystal clear water that pools in from the waterfall. He can see flashes of silver as minute-sized fish scurry underneath the surface. He is surrounded by trees and Harry thinks that the trees at the edge of the forest are only there to frighten but the deeper he gets into the woods, the more beautiful and alive it becomes. Not for the first time, he is amazed by what Dumbledore keeps from the students and what magic is capable of doing.
He steps down onto a rock and notices how the water has smoothed it until it glistens in the sliver of sun that hovers overhead. Harry takes off his shoes and socks; thene ine is warm beneath his naked feet. He drops everything he is carrying and frantically goes to a crisp, new page in his book and he draws. His hand shakes from excitement and anticipation but eventually he is calm and he bites his tongue as he draws. He feels empowered, he can feel life swirling inside of him as the sound of the water slowly dissolves and all Harry can hear is the steady beat of his own heart and the occasional breath from his lungs. He is in his element and he is swiftly falling in love with this virgin terrain. It's something out of a dream, he thinks as he looks up to get the right look for the tree that towers over the waterfall and the bushes at the very top. He wants to weep with joy because all his dreams seem to be coming true at once.
When he is finished and the page is covered from corner to corner with his effort, he knows that this is just the beginning and he wishes that his canvas were bigger. His hand is nearly black and the piece of charcoal is nothing more than a tiny nub. He places it back in his bag; he won't let anything ruin this perfect place. He belongs here, he thinks. There is something here that is calling to him and wrapping him in a safety net of warmth that he never wishes to leave and for now, he won't. He knows that even by being here he is disturbing the tranquility but he is welcome for a short time and he will embrace this time granted to hiHe tHe turns to another page in his book and begins again from a different angle.
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Book of Shadows