Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Perchance to Dream	By : Ataraxia Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 6300 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise and do not profit from this story.

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Amber liquid sloshed over the edge of the glass as Severus clumsily knocked the side table with his hip. He was exhausted; his eyes felt like they were full of grit and his neck seemed to be barely capable of holding up his heavy head. Sighing, he took another sip of his whiskey and turned to face the other man in the room. “How is it that you are always in danger, and it is I that is stuck rescuing you?”

Harry continued to stare out his window. He hadn’t so much as flinched as Severus’ deep voice broke the silence of his quiet hospital room.

Severus observed the young man whose face was lit with moonlight. It was near midnight, and apparently Harry didn’t sleep much these days, but Severus only supposed that he didn’t need to. After all, his body didn’t get much exertion and his soul was already gallivanting off in the dream realm doing Merlin knows what.

Severus sighed once more and pinched the bridge of his nose, questioning the sanity of attempting to hold a conversation with the shell of a man who sat before him. He supposed the few glasses of whiskey he’d just imbibed provided a somewhat reasonable excuse. Somewhat. “You’re a terrible drinking partner, Potter,” he murmured before quickly downing the last finger of malt and walking over to the young man’s side.

Peering out the window, Severus observed the quiet streetscape before him. The warm glow of the streetlights was reflected back off the wet pavement; Severus hadn’t even been aware that it had been raining.   Refocusing his eyes from the scene outside, he cast a glance at Harry’s reflection in the window. The boy’s bright green eyes stared dully from behind his spectacles and his gaze never seemed to fix on any one point. “What do you see, Potter?” Severus whispered, his words fogging the window.

The boy said nothing as Severus patted him on the back and settled down into his regular chair.

~*~*~

thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump...

“Blast” Severus muttered as he took in his surroundings. He was on the pebbled beach again, which only meant that he was most likely going to have to drown himself. Travelling into death was such an infuriatingly uncomfortable thing to do; this journey had barely begun and he was already finding it loathsome. Kicking a pile of pebbles in exasperation, he set off down the beach, waiting for the telltale call of his personal, red-haired siren to beckon him into the sea.

The sound did not come, but there seemed to be another one in its place.

Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump....

Beneath the sound of crashing waves it came to him, a sound familiar and yet somehow incredibly hard to place. Arching his eyebrow at no-one in particular, Severus paused his march down the shore to focus on the sound.

Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump....

Were those, heartbeats?

Perplexed, he spun in place, looking for the source of the pulse. The coast was as it always was in his dreams, grey skied and noisy. The waves crashed mercilessly, the gulls squawked noisily overhead.

Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump....

It was coming from his right, from a pile of large stones that jutted from the shoreline. Gathering his robes so as not to trip, he jogged over to the rocky mass and circled around it, gasping at what he saw. On the far side of the lithic mass was something he never thought he’d see on the beach.

A fireplace.

Severus froze momentarily as he stared into the flames. They were blue; the rich, deep sapphire of twilight, and they pulsed in a familiar rhythm. Thump-thump... the sound of atrioventricular valves and semilunar valves closing. It called to Severus, and without a second thought, he stepped into the hearth.

~*~*~

“Padma and Parvati are okay, but I don’t see why we need to take them.” Harry fumbled with the sleeve of his shirt, having already shucked his cumbersome school robes into the corner.   His glasses slid down as the bridge of his nose, “I mean, I don’t know why we have to bring a girl to the ball. Why can’t we just go stag – or together?” he said the last part in almost a whisper, his heart quickening in his chest.

Ron grimaced, “Blimey, Harry, why on earth would you want to go together?”

The two best mates were seated on Harry’s bed in the Griffyndor dorms where for the past 20 minutes, the redhead had been in the process of trying to transfigure his second hand (and extremely outdated) formal robes into something a little more posh. Poking at the lace ruffle on the hideous garment before him, Ron sighed, “Harry, I’m going to have a hard enough time not looking like a giant pouf at this ball, I don’t need you around queering it up.”

A fierce blush crept up Harry’s neck and into his cheeks and he kept his head lowered so his best friend wouldn’t see it. “I never said I was queer.” He spat, defensively.

Ron snapped his head up in astonishment, “Oh, I never said you were, mate! I just thought that with all this,” he tugged at the frilly lace in disgust, “I’m going to look like I walked out of some kind of retro gay-bar. Could you imagine what Malfoy would say if he saw you with me, in this monstrosity?”

Harry shuddered at the thought. Malfoy had always been an insufferable prat, even more so lately since Harry had somehow ended up a competitor in the Tri-Wizard tournament, despite being underage. As a tournament champion, Harry would be under extra scrutiny at the Yule Ball Hogwarts was hosting that year. The bespectacled wizard sighed, “I just don’t think it’s fair we have to take a girl to the ball, that’s all.” he muttered.

A quick grin nearly split Ron’s face as he laughed at Harry, “Mate, why wouldn’t you want to take one? Get to see her all gussied up and smelling nice. After some nice slow dancing, who knows? Maybe you’ll get yourself a good snog – or more!”

Harry watched as a wistful look passed over Ron’s face as if he were trying to imagine any girl wanting to snog him in his revolting vestments. Who knows? Maybe a girl wouldn’t have wanted to snog Weasley... but perhaps a certain Boy Who Lived would have.

~*~*~

Severus gasped as he fell back into white nothingness.   He had witnessed the entire exchange between the two Gryffindor boys as if he were Harry; he had felt the sinking feeling in the boy’s stomach, and his face had burned when he felt Harry blush. Being torn from the experience was like being ripped from his own body; an experience that left him gasping in pain and reeling with nausea. He fell to his knees and tried not to retch all over the pristine white floor of between.

“Disoriented?” Lily had appeared out of nowhere, her soft voice tinged with concern.

“I feel like I’ve just been vivisected,” Snape coughed, standing quickly and attempting to regain his composure.

Lily frowned, “I’m sorry, Sev, I didn’t know this whole process was going to be so physically trying on you.” She bit her lip in concern, “But at least you found my Floo to between! No more drowning to get here, right?”

Severus groaned, “Oh, goody! Now we can save all the severe physical discomfort for the chasing of your son’s vagabond soul pieces.” He righted himself and fixed his friend with a steely glare, “I was just in something, a dream or a memory...”

“A memory,” she confirmed, nodding.

A smooth black eyebrow arched inquisitively. Severus hadn’t realized that the Potter boy had such interesting proclivities. Hadn’t he ended up dating the Weasley girl? What was meaning of the awkward exchange with her brother? He pursed his lips and said nothing, assuming that the boy’s sexual appetites need not be discussed with the boy’s mother, of all people.

Severus absently brushed off the sleeve of his robe, “So, how exactly do I know when I’ve found a piece of his soul? I didn’t feel anything exceptional; no transfer of magic or energy or the like.”

“No, there wasn’t a fragment in that particular memory. This isn’t an exact science, apparently. It seems you’ll just have to wander through until you find what you’re looking for.” Lily smiled and touched his smooth cheek, reverently, “You’ll k                now when you find it.”

Severus swore inwardly, cursing the woman and her persuasive green eyes that were now bearing into his soul. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he turned on his heel and departed into the blue flames that had mysteriously materialized behind him.

~*~*~

A huge chunk of pumpkin cheesecake materialized before him, causing him to scowl in distaste. Severus did not understand why wizards were so enamoured with pumpkins; the large orange gourds tasted like nothing on their own. It seemed as though when people said they like pumpkin juice, pumpkin pie or pumpkin whatever, what they truly meant imply is that they liked the taste of cinnamon and nutmeg.

Severus despised nutmeg.

His long white fingers pushed the plate aside, as if the six extra inches he had put between him and the offending pudding would somehow manage to keep the smell from invading his nostrils.

“Why, Snape, don’t you like cheesecake?” The smooth, sinewy voice of Lucius Malfoy washed over Severus like heavy cream.   He looked up at the platinum haired prefect and swallowed thickly.

“Cheesecake is fine, I suppose, I just don’t particularly like pumpkin.” As if to further illustrate his point, he nudged the plate an inch further away.

The prefect smiled his utterly disarming smile and sat down on the bench beside Snape, the first year student. Lucius’ blonde hair fell forward over his black and green robes as he leaned in to speak in Snape’s ear. “You really should eat it, you know,” he murmured, his silken voice nearly a purr, “You, Severus, are far too thin. You need to make an effort to put a little meat on your bones.”

For some reason the young Severus couldn’t quite identify, the way Lucius had said the words ‘meat’ and ‘bones’ had nearly turned his knees into jelly; he was quite grateful he was sitting down. Clearing his throat self consciously, he said, “I’m not skinny.”

A low chuckle escaped Lucius’ throat as one of his large, smooth hands traced Severus’ spine slowly. “I can feel every knot of your spine, Master Snape. I do believe it is my responsibility as your prefect to make sure you get some- nourishment – in you.” His slender fingers traced languidly up Severus’ spine, causing the younger boy to shudder.

Severus looked up quickly, his black eyes scanning the Great Hall nervously. Although he wasn’t sure exactly what was happening right now, he could think of a few Gryffindor students that he would prefer didn’t see.

“Oi! Snivellus has a boyfriend!”

Too late.

Severus looked up to see the sneering faces of James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.   He kept his face expressionless, an art he had mastered in years of dealing with his father, and looked at the trio impassively.   He chose not to justify Potter’s barb with a response.

Black laughed with derision, “What makes you think he’s got a boyfriend, James? I’d say this looks like a right pretty girl to me.” Sirius laughed and tossed an imaginary head of hair “Oh, Snivellus, don’t you look dashing today!” he exclaimed in an irritating falsetto that couldn’t have been further from the cool, deep liquidity of Lucius’ voice

Snape felt Lucius’ hand still on his back as the platinum-haired prefect stared at the three boys coolly, “It’s quite alright that you’d be confused, I know Gryffindors are not well reputed for their prowess with women.” He smirked as he stood up to his full height.   Though the three boys were tall for their age, Lucius was a few years older and towered over them imposingly. “Now might I politely suggest that you vacate the area, or do you need my Slytherin brethren to escort you out?” With that, the dozen students within earshot all rose from their seats and turned to the three miscreants.

Lupin had sized up the competition and promptly grabbed his two friends by the sleeves, “Come on, guys, let’s leave Snivellus to his little tea party.” Casting the young, dark-haired wizard withering glances, the three retreated back to their own house table.

Snape glanced up at his saviour and hazarded a small smile, which Lucius returned easily.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” the blonde cooed quietly, “You can make it up to me later.”
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Perchance to Dream