Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You Don't See Me	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 11703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I'm not making any money off of writing fanfiction for it, either. Obviously.

Chapter List
- 1-I
- 2-II
- 3-III
- 4-IV
- 5-V
- 6-VI
- 7-VII
- 8-VIII
- 9-IX
- 10-X
- 11-XI
- 12-XII
- 13-XIII
- 2
- 3
- 4
III.
'I'm here if you want me. I'm yours, you can hold me.'

Harry sighed as he made his way
back into Snape's office. He really had to get some of that paperwork
done or the Headmaster was seriously going to kill him, or fire him,
which would probably be worse. To be honest, he really didn't see the
point of keeping track of things like how many spoons the house elves
cleaned in a day, but figured Snape was just kind of anal.
'Unfortunately, not the good kind of anal,' he thought with a
slight quirk of the lips and a humorless, self-effacing laugh. It
just went to show that real love was nothing like the crap you see on
television. It was complicated. It was knowing all of a person's
flaws, in great detail, and still wanting to wake up to their
sleeping face every day for the rest of your life...even if they
snore, or drool, or talk in their sleep. Well, Harry didn't know if
Snape did any of those things, but he was at least sure that the man
was bitter, snarky, and apparently had a tendency to fret over
completely irrelevant details.

He picked up the top sheet of
paper and skimmed. Irrelevant details like budgeting how many
globdrop spores should be allotted to each first year potions class.
Snape was still teaching potions. Harry smirked a bit. Old habits die
hard, maybe.

He put the paper down and
decided to get a glass of water before starting. That's when he
noticed it—the swirling silver of a memory left to pool in the
pensieve. Oh, he really shouldn't. Snape would kill him. 'Well,
only if he finds out. Maybe just a peek...no, seriously, he'll
definitely kill you, Harry. Oh, but...it's his own fault for never
telling me anything! It's natural Gryffindor curiosity. He shouldn't
have left it out anyway, because, you know, I mean, of course I'm
going to look. I always look.'

What was that about old habits,
Harry? Never mind, it couldn't have been that important. Harry
plunged down into the cool surface of Snape's memory.

He blinked a few times, trying
to acclimate his eyes to the dim light. When he did, he realized he
was in the Slytherin Common Room, but not quite as he remembered it.
Some of the furniture was different and it dated the memory. The
grandfather clock said it was about 2:30. In the morning, Harry
imagined, because the room was deserted.

So where was Snape? Ah, there,
in the corner. He was hunched over a desk scribbling furiously. His
hair was nearly drooping over the chestnut top. The green desk lamp
cast a halo about his figure. Harry chuckled. Snape hadn't been as
short as he was, maybe, but he really had been just as scrawny. He
looked almost anorexic.

Harry made his way around the
room slowly until he was leaning in front of young Severus Snape. He
smiled impishly and waved his hand in front of his face. Severus was
absorbed in what he was doing. He furrowed his brow, yawned, rubbed
his eyes, and then continued. He picked up his wand and removed the
word 'effervescent', then dipped his quill again and replaced it with
'shimmering'. He paused a moment to consider, dragging the feathered
end of his quill thoughtlessly along his brow, then seemed to decide
that 'shimmering' would do and continued.

There was something unbearably
cute about Snape at this age, really. It had nothing to do with his
looks. It was the way he would tilt his head or wrinkle his nose, or
suck in his lower lip. It made Harry think it was rather a shame that
he couldn't interact with a memory, because he wanted nothing more
than to give young Snape a huge hug just for being so damn adorable.

'What are you working on so
hard, huh?' Harry thought,
moving to lean over Snape's shoulder and read from his paper. The
handwriting was different. It wasn't the neat, measured print he was
used to. It was more of a messy scrawl that it took a moment to
decipher. When he did, he frowned.

The top left corner read:

Lucius Malfoy

Charms – Year 4

Essay Subect: The Hazards of
Emotional Modification Charms

“Seriously?”
Harry complained. “I hope he was at least paying you to do his
homework for him. What a jerk.”

Young Snape yawned again and
raked his hair back, heaving a huge sigh before starting the next
paragraph.

Harry imagined Lucius up in bed
while Severus slaved over his homework downstairs and wanted to punch
him. Sure, he asked for Hermione's help with his homework all the
time, but 'help me' and 'do it for me' were two
completely different things.

As Harry was in the middle of
his tirade, the door opened. His gaze shot up. Oh. Speak of the
devil. 'Out way after curfew to boot,' Harry thought. Well, at
least he was awake. It made Harry hate Lucius less, but only just
barely. He didn't think about how many times he'd wandered back into
Gryffindor Tower at two in the morning. His own curfew-breaking
habits were irrelevant.

Lucius was smaller too, with
hair that only reached his shoulders. He leaned back against the wall
with a contented schoolboy sigh. “Merlin! Narcissa is just so
hot!” he exclaimed. He blinked when his eyes landed on
the figure in the corner.

Harry thought he imagined the
odd little glint in Lucius' eye, but he couldn't have imagined the
smirk. Lucius adjusted his robes. “Hey Severus, what are you
still doing up?” he asked, striding confidently across the
room. When he paused behind Snape's shoulder, Harry could see him
subtly adjust his trousers.

“Your
Charms essay,” Severus answered blandly. “I wish you'd
give me a little more warning about when these things are due.”

“Well,
you're almost done, right?”

“Yes,”
Severus answered. “Only another inch and a half.”

“Good.
Come here. There's something else you can do for me. It won't take
long.”

Severus looked slightly
irritated, Harry thought, but put down his pen and let Lucius gently
tug him over to one of the couches. He had a really bad feeling about
this.

Lucius flopped on the couch.
“Kneel down right here, okay?”

Severus lowered himself
awkwardly in front of the blond. He didn't seem to know what Lucius
was thinking, but Harry had a sinking feeling he knew exactly
what was on Malfoy's mind.

“Narcissa's
hot, isn't she?” Lucius said. “Merlin, she just drives me
wild. But you know, you've got to take your time with girls. If you
don't, they'll get pissed at you.”

“...I
guess,” Severus answered. He'd never given Narcissa much
thought one way or the other.

“Oh,
that's right, you prefer red-heads, right?” Lucius said with a
wry smirk.

'You bastard! You leave my
mum out of this!' Harry thought
as if he could somehow influence Lucius not to use Lily as some kind
of bribe. He watched tensely as Lucius opened his robes to reveal his
bulging trousers. He started to undo these, too.

“I'll
tell her, if you want. You know, Evans. I know how tongue-tied you
get whenever she's around.”

Severus tensed at the threat.
His onyx eyes narrowed as Lucius pulled his erection out. “Girls
are such a pain, you know?” Lucius said conversationally.
“Well, I guess, since we're friends and all, I won't tell Evans
after all, since it's so important to you, but you have to do
something for me as a show of good faith.”

Severus' shoulders slumped a bit
in defeat.

“Snape,
what the hell! Don't let this bastard have his way!” Harry
raged, but Snape's hand was reaching out. He looked like he was
amazed to find his fingers weren't shaking. Harry couldn't look away.

“Hey,”
Lucius said. “Not like that. I can wank myself. Use your mouth.
It's fine, right? Friends help friends out.”

Harry wanted to turn away. He
wanted to leave this memory, and yet...he had to see it through. He
couldn't make himself pull away from the disgust and horror coiling
in the pit of his stomach as he saw Snape uncertainly lowering his
face into Lucius' lap. He didn't want to see Lucius' smug little
smirk, either. Severus obviously didn't know what he was doing. He
licked once, then pulled back uncertainly.

“Don't
be such a coward,” Lucius chided. “It's just a prick. You
have one too.”

'You ARE a prick, Malfoy.'
Harry shook with rage as he
watched Severus glare, then dip his head again. He bit his lip when
Severus closed his around Lucius' head. He clenched his fists when he
clumsily started to suck. He tried to throw a lamp to assuage his
temper that his hands went right through when Lucius' roughly grabbed
the back of Snape's head and started thrusting his hips.

Snape's eyes widened in panic.
He obviously couldn't breathe. His fingers dug into the cushion to
either side of Lucius's jutting hips.

Lucius let out a shuddering gasp
and came, tossing Severus' head back as he collapsed against the
cushions.

Severus fell to a heap on the
floor, coughing and sputtering, the white fluid passing his thin lips
to dribble onto the floor. His back rose and fell with his labored
effort to get air back into his lungs.

Lucius tucked himself away,
stood and stretched. “Well, for your first time, I guess it's
the best I could expect,” he said, looking down at the
dark-haired male. “I have another date with Narcissa on Friday,
so I'll let you practice again Friday night. You're really not that
much to look at you know, Severus. I don't really think you stand a
chance with even a plain girl like Evans, but if you can give decent
head, maybe some fag will take pity on you.”

He fixed his robes. “Well,
I'm exhausted. I'm going to get some sleep. I have Charms at eleven,
so make sure you've got that essay finished by ten. You can leave the
scroll in my bag as usual. Don't stay up too late. If you fall asleep
in class you'll ruin your reputation as the biggest nerd at
Hogwarts.”

Severus listened to Lucius
disappear into the dorms. Once alone, he clenched his fist and
punched the floor with the side of his fist. Only once. He didn't
cry. He didn't writhe or collapse. He just punched the floor, once,
got to his feet, pointed his wand at the floor with a whispered
'Scourgify' and went back to the desk in the corner of the room. He
glared at the wall for a minute, then picked up the quill and wrote
the last inch and a half of Lucius' essay.

Harry was the one in tears. The
one thought that kept cycling through his mind as he pulled back from
the pensieve was that whatever you thought of Severus Snape—he
wasn't a man meant to live on his knees.

*

When Severus entered the room to
find the cupboard to the pensieve open and Harry standing in the
middle of the room wiping at his eyes, rage consumed him. He opened
his mouth to let loose, but never got the chance. Harry laid eyes on
him and suddenly...well, looking back on this moment later, Severus
would only say that in that instant that their eyes met, somehow,
Harry Potter lost his mind.

Harry looked up to find Snape,
and rather than fear what Snape would do to him for prying into so
obviously private a memory, Harry tackled him to the ground. He
pounded his fists against the older man's chest, and then he
collapsed there and allowed a few soft sobs to escape.

Severus was left rather
perplexed by the entire incident and it drained his initial rage to
pure, unadulterated confusion.

“Potter?”
he asked once it seemed as if Harry had calmed down a bit.

“I
hate him,” Harry muttered against Snape's chest. “I hate
him for what he did to Dobby, and I hate him for being a bastard, and
I hate him just for being a Malfoy, and I...” but Harry
couldn't say 'I hate him most of all for what he did to you when you
were fourteen'. He pounded on Snape's chest in frustration again.
“How?!” he demanded angrily as he lifted his head. “How
could you let him treat you like that? You're better than him. You've
always been better than him, haven't you?”

Severus sighed. He wanted to
rage, give Harry what was coming to him for spying on his private
thoughts. Again. But he found himself completely lacking in the
energy to really react. He just couldn't seem to pull a properly
Snape-like reaction out of himself anymore. Luck was on Harry's side
once again.

“Get
off of me, Potter. I'm under no obligation to answer questions about
situations that are none of your business in the first place.”

“But
he! But you!” Even Harry had no idea what he was trying to say.
“And I...” Reluctantly, he climbed to his feet, fingers
closing into fists. “Don't you ever want to just...talk about
all the things that have happened to you with someone? I mean,
wouldn't that make you feel better?”

“Even
if I were to suffer from the delusions that things which occurred
when I was a young boy had any relevance to anyone's life but my own
and wished to...talk
to
someone, as you say, it would never be you, Potter. Now either get
some work done for a change, or get out. I'm a busy man.”

'It would never be you,
Potter.' Harry would have rather
been beaten bloody and told to scrub cauldrons for the next
forty-eight hours than to get the cold shoulder like that. It might
be a bit masochistic, but if Snape was yelling at him, somehow it
almost seemed as if he cared. Snape had no idea that he'd said the
one thing that would hurt Harry the most.

He sat down grudgingly at the
desk, fiddled with the papers, and spent the next three hours getting
almost nothing done in his distraction. Periodically, he'd look up,
but Snape kept his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him and acted
as if Harry weren't even in the room. It was too painful to sit here
like this.

Harry steeled his resolve.
“I...” That sounded more like a croak than a word. Harry
tried again. “I know you probably think I'm just a nuisance.”

“Observant,
aren't you. Apologies, Potter, but I'm all out of medals. I rather
think you have enough of those in your collection by now anyway.”

“Just
shut up and listen to what I'm saying for once!” Harry snapped.
He could hardly believe he'd just said it.

Snape raised his eyes, but
didn't show any other sign of acknowledgment.

Harry
took another deep breath. “I know that you think I'm just a
bother, when you're thinking of me at all. I know you've decided at
some point to pin all of your hate for my dad onto me, just because I
happen to exist and you need somewhere to pin it, or you'll
explode...or something. But... I'm not your enemy.
I want to help you. I can do more for you than just catalog lunch
menus and read stupid shit about silverware. And I...more than just
work. If you just needed to get something off your chest I'd, you
know, shut up and listen.”

“...silence
would be a nice change of pace,” Snape answered when he deduced
Harry was done ranting. Someone to talk to? Impossible, even if he
knew what it was he most needed to talk about.

Harry glared at him and stormed
off. Snape looked back down at the paperwork on his desk and flicked
his wand, gesturing the irrelevant work he'd set out for Harry into
the fire. He had no use for any of it, but Harry was too daft to
notice.

His eyes fell back on the door
that Harry had slammed on his way out, then to the memory floating in
the pensieve which no longer felt terribly important. He looked back
at the door and sighed.

“Still
so energetic, isn't he?” Dumbledore's portrait piped up.
“Rather nice, Severus, to see you finally making friends.”

“I
have friends. Potter is not among them.”

“Friends
like Lucius, you mean?”

Severus slammed down his quill
in annoyance and stood up. He wasn't in any mood to deal with
Dumbledore's gentle chiding tonight. “I'm going to bed,”
he declared before storming from the room.

“So
prone to temper tantrums, that boy,” one of the portraits said.

“Not
very likeable at all, if you ask me,” another commented. “But,
well, I suppose he's trying.”

“Now,
now,” Dumbledore said. “Be nice.”

“If
you ask me, the brat just needs to get laid,” Phineas Nigelius
commented.

“Yes,
well,” Dumbledore chuckled. “Perhaps with a bit more
persistence, Harry can help him with that, Phineas.”
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

You Don't See Me