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Extra Lessons Are Always Appreciated	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 9211 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. No profit is made from this story.

Chapter List
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Snape peered at the Gryffindor table. Since the first year that Harry Potter had come into Hogwarts, he had kept an eye on that infernal brat, seeing him grow from pint-sized nuisance to capable teenager. Watching him now came almost as a given. It was the stalking of the habitual spy and had nothing to do with any lingering sexual attraction.
[Keep telling yourself that, my boy.] He gritted his teeth at that inner voice, which sounded remarkably like that of one meddling deceased Headmaster, and renewed his surreptitious perusal of the Gryffindor.
He’d seen the whelp in almost every kind of mood from sullenness to elation. The latter was especially wonderful to see, especially after a successful Quidditch match with Gryffindor as the winner.
The boy’s green eyes would glow and his entire being radiated with an internal light. Severus had witnessed students turning to watch Harry when he walked through the halls in such moments. Of course, it was mainly due to his ridiculous status as the Boy Who Lived. But often it had seemed more than that, as though Harry were drawing people to him with a magic even he didn’t know he possessed. Whether it had drawn him as well was something Severus refused to contemplate.
Since he’d returned from his latest excursion to Hogsmeade, Harry seemed different. He was subdued, even withdrawn. While his two friends chattered and whispered together, he would nod and give short answers, inaudible from where Severus sat. Most of the time, he merely picked moodily at his food while Granger and Weasley prattled in their inane fashion.
Had the three quarreled? No, the trio deliberately avoided each other when they’d had one of their rows. This was something else. This was more of a gradual distancing. Harry looked unhappy when he glanced at his two friends rather than pissed off but also resigned, curiously enough.
Had the Golden Trio experienced an internal rift, one that was deeper than a mere squabble? That could be to his advantage. An unhappy Harry would be more likely to cling to him, to want him to the point where any other would be undesirable.
He tucked into his roasted chicken while he mused on this new turn of events. He’d be a fool and a poor Slytherin not to take advantage of this latest development. Yet…
Was it worth it to have a Harry who’d want him simply because he couldn’t get anyone else? And that certainly wouldn’t be the case always. Sooner or later someone young, handsome, untainted with a dark and evil past would come Harry’s way. Harry would see his infatuation with his greasy professor for the sad obsession that it was and move on to someone else.
Perhaps it was happening already. In spite of his distance from his friends, Harry never once looked towards the Head table. In the past, he’d snuck glances there on occasion as though he wanted to keep the Potions Professor under as close surveillance as Severus wished to keep him. Now the Gryffindor didn’t so much as glance his way.
Frowning harshly, Severus stabbed his meat with more than usual viciousness. The scraping sound drew Minerva’s attention briefly before she turned back to a conversation that she was having with Flitwick.
Enough was enough. He would take more of the invisibility potion and visit the man tonight. He didn’t know what game the Gryffindor was playing and he didn’t much care. He’d been without relief for too long. Time that the drought was ended and damn the consequences.
__________
By now, Severus was used to pacing the halls invisibly. It no longer felt odd and he actually experienced a thrill of exhibitionism when he did it. Whenever he saw any student, he wondered how they would react if he were to reach out and goose them or whisper in their ear.
Hmm. Was this headiness an inherent quality of invisibility in general or the potion in particular? He’d never heard of anyone who used Invisibility Cloaks suffering from such puerile euphoria and there had been no mention of such a danger in the marginalia written about this potion. It bore further study.
Another time.
Reaching Harry’s door, he was disappointed and infuriated to find it locked. Hadn’t Harry said he would keep it unlocked in the future?
Perhaps the idiot had forgotten or he was finally learning to take precautions against unwanted snoops. Well, no matter. This presented no obstacle to him. He concentrated on the wandless spell to open the door.
Nothing. Severus tried a stronger spell and then another when that failed as well. The door remained stubbornly unyielding and he felt the slow burn of anger begin to boil under his skin.
The man had talent all right if he could manage a locking spell that would shut out Severus Snape. But he hadn’t even begun to try some of the more arcane unlocking magicks at his command. He launched into more spells, some bordering on Dark magic. But the door wouldn’t budge.
Harry couldn’t be this skilled. Severus had beaten him to a standstill in the boy’s sixth year. No matter if he’d killed the Dark Lord; the Gryffindor remained a mediocre wizard with only the most rudimentary skills at his command. He was no match for a powerful, learned wizard like himself, one who’d trained himself rigorously in the Dark Arts and mastered wordless and wandless magic before he’d reached his 16th year.
“Harry, don’t run away from me.”
Cursing silently, Severus spun around. Harry and Ginevra Weasley came down the corridor, the youngest member of that prolific family continuing what was obviously a long-standing argument.
“Ginny, please. Not now.”
“Yes, now, Harry!” She darted in front of him, setting her fists on her hips. Harry darted a slightly panicked look over her shoulder, doubtless worried that the castle walls might be listening again.
“Ginny, don’t do this here. I don’t want the castle paintings relating my business to everyone.”
“Fine. But then we should talk inside your rooms. All right?”
Harry nodded, his expression moody and not particularly welcoming. But when Ginny’s shoulders slumped, he reached out and enfolded her awkwardly with one arm.
“It’s okay, Ginny. Believe me. No matter what happens, I’ll always care for you.” He opened his door without trouble and Ginny stepped inside, Harry following closely behind her. There was no room for Severus to follow unless he shoved Harry and he didn’t want to reveal himself to the Gryffindor, not under these circumstances.
Harry had stated he cared for the girl. That news had been shocking, causing a sour twisting in his gut. He’d known Harry had cherished a fondness for the Weasley girl. It had given him particular malicious joy to keep the two of them apart in sixth year after Harry had leveled one of his own deadly spells against Draco Malfoy.
But surely the war and the weeks spent on the run had been enough to drive a wedge between the two Gryffindors? Had Harry somehow reconciled with Miss Weasley during the month Severus had been away from him? The thought curled his stomach in knots.
This was what his neglect had led to. Harry had turned to another, just as he had feared.
That didn’t mean he intended to surrender without a fight. But his choices were limited. He could lurk outside, running the risk that someone might bump into him. Then perhaps he could try shoving himself into the room when Harry opened the door again, using brute force to knock Harry off his feet. Or he could go back to his quarters and forget the whole damned affair, this time for good.
Maybe he could listen to what they were saying. However, he could make out nothing beyond the solid door and he didn’t dare try a spell to eavesdrop. One strong enough to penetrate the Tower wards would set off interior alarms for certain.
Severus clenched his fists in frustration. Was this what had he been reduced to? Look at him, the fearsome Potions Professor, lurking naked outside a student’s door, desperate for sexual handouts. He should have stuck to his original resolution and ignored Harry after that very first forbidden shag. He shouldn’t have gone to the boy’s room in the first place! He should have…
He sagged against the adjacent wall, staring at the unyielding door. It was too late for the things he should and shouldn’t have done. He was well and truly snared and only a supreme act of will would release him from it. That or a spell.
The simplest thing to do would be to extract the whole memory and drain it into a Pensieve or simply let it evaporate into the air. But he had no Pensieve of his own and to borrow the one in the Headmistress’s office would entail questions he didn’t wish to answer. Also, there was the risk that he would forget everything attached to the sexual incidents, including the creation and use of the invisibility potion. That was a useful piece of knowledge he didn’t wish to lose just yet.
He had never sought recourse to forgetfulness, even after Lily’s death. It had been sheer perversity to him to hold that memory close, to remember over and over again that he’d been the cause of her untimely demise. How else would he be able to atone or have excuses to watch over the last living remnant of her existence?
And when had watching Harry for Lily’s sake turned into watching for his own? When had annoyance turned into attraction, into…? He refused to finish that thought.
But, unlike the death of his childhood friend, this was not a pain he needed to endure. If he forgot about Harry, then this obsession would fade. He’d only become involved with the brat in the first place because he’d been drawn in by the sight of naked, nubile flesh, the sound of Harry panting and crying out for his nasty Potions professor. Avoiding all sights of Harry in the nude and forgetting about their recent…association would see to it that peace would return to his heart and mind.
Filled with newfound resolution, Severus pushed off the wall. Confident that he could find a potion or invent one to remove his sexual dependency, he made his way swiftly back to his private rooms and lab. So eager was he, he completely forgot his wish to know what Harry was discussing with that redheaded girl.
__________
Having Ginny in the Gryffindor common room would have been awkward, to put it mildly. Even with Muffliato being cast, people would see the two of them together and tongues would wag. But he didn’t want her in his room either. If anybody saw her leaving… He shuddered at the thought.
“Harry, I just want to know what your intentions are.”
“Ginny, I told you…”
“No, you didn’t. I asked whether you wanted to take things up with me again, get working on that family you wished for. You said you didn’t really know. Have you changed your mind? If you have, I’d like to know.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I do want a family, Ginny. Just…not right now. I’m only 17, for goodness sakes.”
“And I’m only 15. I know, much too young to marry. But I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you.”
Harry grimaced. “Ginny, you were only nine!”
“I know. And maybe a lot of it was hero worship. So I stayed away from you, tried to get my feelings for you sorted out. Now I know the truth.”
She leaned forward, gazing tenderly into his eyes. “This isn’t puppy love or anything so silly. I love you, Harry. I really do. My feelings haven’t changed. If anything, they’ve grown stronger through the years.”
Harry cringed, wishing the earth would open up and swallow him. “Ginny…”
“If you wanted me to wait until I was older, I’d be willing to do that. We could get a long engagement and get married when I’m 17. What do you think? And where would you like to live? We could always live at your parents’s house, I suppose. But it would need fixing up…” She trailed off uncertainly, watching the red in Harry’s face fade to a chalky white.
“I don’t think so,” Harry replied quietly.
“Okay, we can live somewhere else--”
“No, I mean I don’t think I can get married to you, Ginny.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Maybe your feelings haven’t changed. But mine have.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, anger beginning to spark in her eyes.
“Just what I’ve said. I can’t marry you, not when I don’t love you, not when I see you more as a sister than a wife.”
“You didn’t see me as a sister when you kissed me at the Burrow!” she snapped.
Privately, Harry remembered that she had kissed him--a supposed gift for his 17th birthday. But he had allowed it at the time, so she could be forgiven for seeing it as encouragement. Hell, he had meant it as encouragement at the time.
“That was then. I don’t want you any more, Ginny. I-I’m not sure I ever did.”
“But you wanted a family…”
“I wanted my family,” he corrected as gently as he could. “When I looked into the Mirror of Erised in my first year, I saw a whole line of Potters and Evanses stretching into infinity with my mother and father on either side of me. I thought at the time how grand it could be if I’d only had a real family of my own who’d love me, nurture me and take care of me, the way families should. Later I thought that meant getting my own wife and kids someday. But…” he faltered.
“But what? Harry, I’ll love you and take care of you. Your children will be beautiful little boys and girls who’ll love you too. You’ll see; it’ll be everything you ever wanted.”
“That was before I knew what I wanted. But I don’t want that any longer, Ginny. Not with you.”
Ginny’s right hand twitched, as though she longed to grab her wand and hit him with a Bat-Bogey hex. Harry reached out to grab her hands, clenching the tight fists in his own. “I’m sorry if this is hurting you. But it’s better we face up to this now rather than later when we’ll both be miserable and won’t know why.”
“I know why,” she muttered bitterly. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
“What? No, there’s no other girl in my life,” Harry replied. But he could feel heat flaring across his face and Ginny’s eyes narrowed.
“Really? Not even Cho Chang?”
“I haven’t thought of Cho Chang since fourth year. And there haven’t been any other girls since,” Harry replied with as much force as he could muster. He wasn’t lying; there had been no other girls in his life, not for a long time. But that was far more truth than Ginny could handle right now.
“Fine,” she practically snarled as she tore her hands from his.
“Ginny…” he began as she stood up, preparing to leave.
She flung up one hand. “Don’t. Unless it’s to say you’ve changed your mind--again--and decided to make a go of it, I don’t want to hear.”
He slumped back into his chair. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I never wanted it to turn out this way.”
She gazed down at him, bitterness warring with a kind of pity. “I know. None of us did. I just hope whatever or whoever you gave me up for is worth it.” She spun around, her red hair flaring like a flag caught in the wind, and stalked away. Harry held himself stiffly, willing himself not to make things worse by running after her.
What would he say? That he was sorry? He’d said that already and there came a time when apologies just didn’t help.
He sagged back into the chair. Tension that had been knotting his shoulder muscles suddenly made itself known, the ache he’d barely felt manifesting itself in twangs and pinches.
Harry rubbed at his shoulders ineffectually. Maybe a nice, long soak in the prefect’s bathtub was just what he needed.
__________
“Pine fresh.” The door opened silently and Harry stepped through, glad that the place would be empty. Unlike the Room of Requirement, this room was not Unplottable, merely unable to be opened by anyone except prefects and Head boys and girls. He gave a silent prayer of thanks and remembrance to Cedric Diggory for telling him about it in his fourth year.
Stripping himself quickly, he slid into the water and began fiddling with the taps. When thick white bubbles covered the entire surface he let himself relax with a sigh.
“Who’s there?” The grumpy voice seemed to issue from one of the spigots and Harry started, his eyes flying open. Like a translucent soap bubble, a pale figure emerged from the spigot. In moments, the figure of Moaning Myrtle had oozed from the tap and hovered in the air above the bubbles.
“Dammit, Myrtle!” Harry yelped, ducking farther under the bubbles. Happy mood destroyed, he glared at the gloomy ghost.
Her lower lip trembled. “You’re using nasty language! I’m telling the teachers on you.”
“You’re hanging out in the prefects’ bathroom. You want to tell them that?”
Myrtle hesitated, her lank hair drooping over her dumpy face. Then she asked sullenly, “Who are you? You’re not supposed to be here this late, are you?”
“It’s Harry. Harry Potter. I’m just taking a late-night bath. I have every right to be here. I’m a prefect now.”
“Really?” She floated nearer, ignoring Harry’s sputtered protests. “You look different.”
“Well, I am older.” How long had it been since he’d last seen her? It had been only a year since that unfortunate incident with Draco Malfoy in the boys’s loo. He couldn’t have changed that much, could he?
“Why don’t you come to visit me?”
“What’s the point, if you turn up wherever you like?” Harry groused.
She sniffled, ghostly tears leaking from her eyes. “I know you don’t like being around me. Nobody does. ‘Moaning mopey Myrtle’ is what they say.”
“Myrtle, just stop,” Harry said in a sharp tone. He immediately regretted it when the tears began accompanied by whimpers.
“You’re mean.”
“I’m also naked. And I’d like some privacy. If no one wants to talk to you, whose fault is that?” When the sniffles degenerated into sobs, Harry cast about for something to get rid of her. “Why don’t you go talk to Malfoy? He likes you, doesn’t he?”
She sniffled. “I haven’t seen him in ages. He doesn’t come to the bathroom unless he’s with someone one else.”
Smart bloke, that Malfoy. Maybe Harry should have brought company. But the only company he wanted was a certain untouchable Potions Professor.
At the thought of the man joining him in the tub, his body sliding sleekly under the water to rub against Harry’s, his cock took a decided interest. Cripes, he was getting hard and with Myrtle hovering around, too. Harry gritted his teeth.
“You could try finding him in the Slytherin common room. It does lie underneath the lake. I know you can travel to the lake, right?”
“Not under it. The castle is warded so the ghosts can’t float in and out of the common rooms. Something about privacy for the living,” she muttered as though she found it all terribly unfair.
Harry shrugged. His problem was becoming urgent and Myrtle wasn’t leaving. If he started jerking off in front of her, would that repel her--or draw her closer?
The thought was too disgusting and thankfully his erection died with it. The water was getting cold and his plans to relax were all shot down anyway. “Myrtle, just leave, alright? I’m going to get out of the tub and I don’t want you seeing me naked. Leave now…or I’ll be the one complaining to the teachers,” he threatened.
Her lips pinched shut and she drifted back towards the spigot. “Fine. Maybe if you leave, Professor Snape will show up. He’s much more fun to watch than you.”
Harry sat up sharply, the movement causing the water to slop over the marble tiles surrounding the spacious tub. “Se-Snape? He comes here? I thought this was just for the prefects?”
“Teachers can use it too. Why shouldn’t they? They’re older than the prefects and age has its privileges, I s’pose…among the living anyway,” she sniffed.
“What’s this about Professor Snape being more fun?”
“Why should I tell you? You don’t want me around, do you?”
“Not if you’re going to be spying on me.” She wasn’t turning around and Harry Summoned his towel, wrapping it around him hastily before shrugging. “Okay. If you don’t want to tell me, it doesn’t matter. Snape isn’t my concern.”
Seeing she was losing his interest, she swung around and swooped back towards him. “Not even when he’s doing something funny in the tub and moaning?”
“Seems there’s a lot of moaning going around,” Harry quipped.
She scowled. “He was moaning your name. It sounded really weird.”
“Really?” He tried to sound like he didn’t care. But the thought of Snape saying his name… Merlin, he was getting hard again.
This wasn’t the time, not with that silly ghost so near. But Myrtle eyed his bare chest with avid interest as she resumed talking about Snape.
“He didn’t know I was here. He was just lying back in the tub. One arm was over the tiles while the other one was hidden in the water and the water was rippling in this bizarre way. He was muttering your name and then chanting it like it was a spell or something. And then the water foamed and turned this bubbly white color. I thought it was bath foam but the mermaid in the picture said it wasn’t. I asked her to tell me what it was but she wouldn’t. She just kept sniggering in that stupid way she does and went back to sleep.”
Myrtle scowled at the offending picture. Harry followed her gaze. The painted mermaid in the window was awake and smirking at the two of them. She stuck out her tongue at Myrtle and winked at Harry as though sharing a naughty secret with him. Harry flushed as the mermaid laughed and began singing a raunchy song about sailors at sea and the uses they made of conch shells.
The frown on Myrtle’s face deepened and Harry realized she didn’t understand what the mermaid was going on about. The ghost was stuck in a case of permanent arrested near-childhood. She was keen about the human males, had aged enough to have interest in boys, but she lacked the emotional development that would have made the next step understandable. She was nothing more than an awkward overgrown little girl, after all.
It felt odd to pity a ghost and worse to know there was nothing he could do for her. Harry Summoned his clothes so that they flowed over his body. When Myrtle looked around again he was fully dressed and clad in his Invisibility Cloak.
“Harry?” she asked, her voice a plaintive murmur in the echoing room.
Harry said nothing only stood silently as he waited for her to leave. She swept through the room, searching for him, then stopped when it was clear he wasn’t going to answer. Her shoulders slumping, she slipped back up the spigot. It was as odd to see her disappear as it had been to see her appear in the first place.
Glad that she was gone, he slid open the door. Just at that moment, the mermaid called out, “You should bring company when you come back, Harry. The tub’s big enough for two, you know. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen here.”
His ears burning, Harry slunk off accompanied by a trill of feminine laughter.

TBC
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Extra Lessons Are Always Appreciated