Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Way of the Patronus	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15104 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in anyway, shape or form. The rights of such belong solely to J.K Rowling. I do not make any money or accrue any monetary benefit on this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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- 7
It hurts. It hurts so***** If the rumors are true,***** getting married after they***** It won’t stop hurting. Merlin, why*****such a fool?
The spiky handwriting was splotched with round blots, blurring some of the words so they couldn’t be read. His Prince had been crying here. It must have been that girl he’d been ready to dope up with Amortentia. She was getting married to someone else and the Prince was miserable over it.
Harry ran his fingers over the bubbled page. The pain was almost palpable here. In spite of the fact that it must have taken place years ago, the agony was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. How he wished he could embrace his Prince, let him know that he understood the anguish.
He had grown more and more attached to this book and its unknown vanished owner. He had tried to lend the book to Ron on more than one occasion in the beginning. But his ginger-haired mate had been unable to decipher the spiked writing. Harry had found it surprisingly easy to read; in a way, the writing was oddly familiar, like he and his Prince were long-time pen pals conversing with each other across the ages.
Which was ridiculous. But these days, Harry was feeling very lonely. He was confused and mixed-up and a kinship, no matter how one-sided, felt better to him than nothing at all. And a certain professor wasn’t helping.
Since their parting from Dumbledore, Severus had held fast to his refusal to give Harry private lessons. They continued to fumble their way through DADA classes, with Harry’s magic surging at unpredictable moments. No one wanted to spar with him anymore, not even Crabbe and Goyle, the two biggest thugs in Slytherin, and people were whispering about him in the halls again.
Severus wouldn’t look at him, would rarely call on him in classes. What he wouldn’t give to hear the man snarl at him in that sexy voice, feel his hands caressing his skin, hear those sweet, feral cries…
He had confided some of what he had talked about with Dumbledore to Ron and Hermione without letting them know about the sex between him and Severus. That still seemed way too personal to get into. And he could just imagine what Ron would say if he knew he’d been grinding hips with everybody’s least favorite professor.
Maybe he could ease into the subject somehow. “Hey, Ron, Hermione? Guess what? I think I might be gay! And there’s this older bloke I’ve been seeing…”
Shit, he’d have to come up with something better than that.
He scanned down the page. The damage tapered off, though there were still blotches here and there. Perhaps the pain had lessened or the Prince had refused to indulge himself further in useless crying.
He turned the page. “Sectumsempra…for enemies.” There was no description, only these few words writing on a corner of the leaf.
Okay, what was that about? Was it one of those dark spells the Prince was creating the further he went in the book? He just knew what Hermione would have to say about this.
She had become increasingly bitter about his usage of this book, insisting that it was cheating. She’d be worried instead of jealous if she knew how dark these spells were getting. He would have to find a way to test the spell in a controlled environment.
He could have kicked himself. The Room of Requirement! He had used it last year when practicing with Dumbledore’s Army. He could use it again. He could get Severus to join him there to practice--
Harry slumped in his bed. Right. Severus was avoiding him. How could he get the man to give in? It was only two days since their last meeting with Dumbledore and Harry could barely concentrate in classes. Hermione tried to help him with his studies but his mind kept wandering. He’d taken wanking between classes to heights never seen before in Hogwarts but it did almost nothing to soothe the itch.
Could he command the man the way he’d done before? He hadn’t really known that’s what he was doing when he’d ask Severus to kiss him and neither he nor the DADA teacher had mentioned that to Dumbledore. But the idea was very tempting.
What would he do with Severus if he could order him around? An image of the man mincing around while wearing a green dress like the boggart in third year Defense Against the Dark Arts class caused him to snigger, earning him a curious look from Hermione where she sat in the library. Harry stifled it and buried his head in his book.
Severus wouldn’t take it well if Harry started playing the tyrant. He had enough of that with Voldemort. Maybe he could influence Severus from a distance, the way Voldemort had done with him. No, that only worked because Voldemort and he shared a link, thanks to his stupid scar.
Could he plant a suggestion in Severus’s mind? Could he…seduce him somehow?
Harry nibbled his lip. He was way awkward at such things; he knew that. His clumsy efforts with Cho Chang had shown him that. He couldn’t understand a thing that was going on in that girl’s head when he was with her.
Not that he could figure out Severus. If ever there was another twisted mind like that of a Slytherin Death Eater, he didn’t want to meet it. Then again, things between them were pretty straightforward. They got together in the same room, argued and had themselves a crazed shag. There were no painful, dragging conversations like those he’d had with Cho Chang.
So how did you go about seducing a bloke like Severus Snape? Someone had done it once, he recalled sourly. Maybe if he were handsome like Lucius Malfoy, it’d be easier. As always, his stomach twisted whenever he thought of the two of them together.
That thought caused him to straighten. Could he possibly make Severus jealous? He was pretty sure Severus wanted him even if the greasy git couldn’t bring himself to touch Harry. So all he had to do was pick someone and throw himself at them. Hell, he was the sodding Boy Who Lived; who would say no?
The tear-stained pages caught his eye again and he shook off the idea. No, that would be a truly stinking thing to do to someone, to reel them in only to throw them off when he’d gotten the man he wanted.
So he was back to square one. He couldn’t get Severus and he was sinking into misery without him. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
__________
He tossed the chocolates on to his bed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Romilda Vane must think he was stupid. Well, maybe he was. If not for Hermione’s warning, he would have eaten these damned candies and fallen under her love-induced spell.
What were people thinking? Professor Slughorn had warned them that Amortentia was dangerous, the same way that Potions master had warned the Prince so many years ago. Why would anyone stoop to using it?
Harry’s heart thudded as he stared at the innocent-seeming package on the bed. Could he use something like this to attract Severus, even for a while?
Nah, fecking stupid idea. The man would see through it for sure. Harry was no expert and even he could recognize the faint non-chocolate smell coming from the box. Severus would know at once and rip his head off for even trying it.
Amortentia was no substitute for love. It couldn’t make you happy…could it?
His fingers reached out to caress the box while he considered the problem. If he did eat the chocolates, he would fall for Romilda and she would return his affections. That’s why she was doing this, after all, to gain attention from someone who was ignoring her. In her way, she was suffering too. Maybe they could ease each other’s pain--at least for a little while.
Under the influence of Amortentia, he would crave Romilda and she would make him happy. He would forget all about Severus hurting him.
It was cracked. He was probably the only person in the history of magic who would want to make himself barmy with a love potion. But it would work. Romilda would be suitably grateful. Hell, it was what she wanted, after all. She had no right to complain if he was helping himself by falling for her trap.
Shakily peeling away the wrapping and opening the cardboard, he was assailed by the sharp cocoa smell, with the familiar smells of mint, cloves…and something else underlying it. That mystery scent didn’t remind him at all of Romilda but he was determined to ignore the implications of that.
Released from their wrapper, the individual pastilles lay innocently in their individual wrappers. He brought one up to his mouth and then hesitated.
He wasn’t having second thoughts about this. But maybe there was a better time to eat these.
Stuffing the chocolate back into the box, he placed it in his satchel and hoped they wouldn’t melt before he had a chance to put his plan into action.
__________
“Blimey, Harry. Is that Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies?” Ron goggled at the auburn-haired plain-dressed woman smiling at Professor Slughorn.
“Yeah, Ron. I think it is,” Harry said absently.
“Slughorn throws the best parties, doesn’t he?” Ron said, grinning like a loon. “D’ya think she gives autographs?” he added anxiously. It still bothered Ron that Slughorn ignored him like he didn’t exist. Slughorn’s favoritism didn’t extend to him since the redhead was the negligible member of a large family and an indifferent potion brewer. But Ron was evidently willing to forgive all if Slughorn knew people like Gwenog Jones.
Harry shrugged, his eyes scanning the crowd. To his astonishment, Severus Snape was there. He stood in a corner, a space around him as people gave him a wide berth. But he was undoubtedly hovering, conspicuous in his glowering silence.
Why was he there? Harry didn’t flatter himself the former Potions master was there for his sake; that would be too much to hope for. But that didn’t matter to him, he stated firmly to himself. He was looking for another dark-haired person at the moment…
There she was. Romilda Vane stood among a gaggle of other girls. Harry knew this was the moment. He groped in his cloak and dug into the hidden box of chocolates.
There was a commotion as Argus Filch came in dragging Draco by the ear but for once Harry couldn’t be bothered to focus on the Malfoy git. Just as he was about to pop the chocolate into his mouth, he was bumped hard from behind and it flew out of his hands.
“No!” He stared in dismay as the candy was immediately trodden into the carpet by a fast-moving house-elf carrying a tray. Spinning around to glare at whoever had nudged him, he was startled to see Ginny Weasley standing at his elbow.
She smiled nervously and held up a glass. “Oops. Sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I guess the crowd is a little too thick. Want a butterbeer?”
He glanced regretfully at the smashed chocolate on the floor. He had more in his pack but it would look strange to go digging for another one now. Besides, the impulse that had led to all this had fizzled out.
He was here at this party with Luna Lovegood. Ditching her to go mooning over Romilda would be the height of thoughtlessness. Besides, Romilda had shown herself to be a stuck-up girl the first time he’d met her, visibly dismissing Luna and Neville as being beneath his notice. In her way, she’d been no better than that prat Malfoy.
Why had he even considered this course of action? Maybe it was the smell of the chocolates. They had certainly been powerful enough. So it was a good thing that Ginny had bumped him; he might have made a stupid mistake otherwise.
Ginny cleared her throat. “Harry? Butterbeer?”
“Sure. Thanks,” he murmured, taking the butterbeer. With one last glance at Romilda, he lifted the glass and took a deep pull.
“Harry, I haven’t had a chance to talk to you lately. But I wanted to tell you how handsome you look without your glasses,” Ginny murmured, staring at him intently.
“Uh, thanks, Ginny.” He handed the empty mug to a passing house-elf and looked around to see if Snape was still lurking.
He blinked and did a double take, his eyes widening as Ginny smiled at him. God, the girl was beautiful. Why hadn’t he ever noticed before? The 10-year-old girl he’d once ignored had blossomed into the most indescribable paragon of female allure.
Poetry he never thought he knew welled up in his soul when he gazed at her. Never had he seen such lustrous red hair, looking almost like a bonnet of phoenix fire under the lights. She wore the sweetest smile, had the most smoldering brown eyes like honeyed chocolate holding just the barest hint of ginger.
Why had he even thought of the ugly vulture Snape when there was such an incomparable beauty standing next to him? There was a faint twinge when he thought of Snape but he barely felt it, completely in awe of the luscious lovely in front of him.
Romilda Vane faded from view as though she’d never been born. Ginny Weasley was the most delectable specimen of humanity, the most desirable witch on the face of the earth. The palest unicorn had no such innocence; the sun itself couldn’t outshine such fire. The very air was the sweeter for being around her.
Barely conscious of Ron’s questioning voice in his ear, he smiled at the young girl staring at him with a clear invitation in her eyes and stretched out his hand to her. “Ginny, may I have this dance?”
She giggled nervously; he nearly swooned at the music in her voice. “Um, Harry, I don’t think this is dance music.”
“The air itself seems to dance when you’re around, Ginny,” he said solemnly. Dimly, he registered Ron’s shocked splutter. But he was nothing compared to the adoration of the sloe-eyed angel looking at him.
“I’d love to, Harry,” she whispered and his heart broke into song as she slipped her hand into his. He caught her in his arms and whirled her around with him.
The whole world vanished as he was absorbed into the incomparable darling nestled in his arms. Her weight, her delectable scent, the budding breasts, the curve of her waist sang to him with the incomparable glow of womanhood. He never wanted this dance to end, never wanted to let Ginny go. This was paradise; this was sheer bliss.
So this was what love was like. Why had he imagined Snape could make him feel such emotion? At the stray thought, the pang he’d experienced earlier returned, stronger this time, and he stumbled a little.
Ginny winced as he trod on her toe. “Harry? What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling back to look into his face.
“Nothing, sweetheart. I-I was thinking how lovely you smelled,” he lied.
“Oh, Harry. That’s so sweet,” she sighed as she returned her head to his shoulder.
The pang got sharper, became an insistent bite. He gritted his teeth. Whatever it meant, he would pay it no mind. He had suffered the poison of a basilisk fang, the loss of the bones in his arm, a Bludger to the back, the Cruciatus Curse and Merlin knew what other pain. He could ignore something that felt no stronger than the pinch of ill-fitting smalls.
The twinge grew no stronger but would not go away. He didn’t understand it. He had the woman he loved in his arms; all should be well. Raising his head to look at her sweetly smiling face, he believed he knew what would dispel it.
He would kiss her. One kiss and they would belong to each other forever. At the thought, the pang flared into agonizing fire but he thrust it aside. He tipped up her chin, bent his head down to hers--
A hand fell on his shoulder, the thin fingers biting into the muscle. “Mr. Potter, I believe you have had too much to drink. Such sordid displays are meant for the bedroom, not for public consumption.”
“Sod off, Snape,” he snarled. “I’m busy here.”
“So it would appear.” Harry was wrenched around, Ginny stumbling out of his arms from the abrupt motion. The girl gave a cry of alarm and Harry glared daggers at Snape.
“You bastard! If you’ve hurt her…” Harry hissed.
“Rest assured, Mr. Potter, what she’s feeling now will be nothing compared to what she will suffer if my suspicions are correct.” The black eyes bored into his but for once Harry’s thoughts gave away nothing. Fuming in fury as he was, his mental barriers remained fixed in place, solid and unbreakable.
That gimlet stare was then directed at Ginny and she cringed as if Snape had struck her. “I see. The use of Amortentia is considered highly illicit, Miss Weasley, and for very good reason,” he murmured, in a tone that could have melted steel.
Amortentia? What the hell was Snape talking about? “Don’t talk to her like that! She’s innocent! Ginny, my...” Harry cried out, only to silenced by an iron hand clapped over his mouth.
“Mr. Potter, we’d better remove you from the premises before you say or do something that you will deeply regret two hours from now.” He grabbed Harry’s struggling body with his other arm and began pulling him bodily from the room.
Harry was no longer a scrawny boy of 12. He had filled out and he fought like an enraged hippogriff in Severus’s arms. The Slytherin was hard put to restrain him as Harry was dragged off. Bewildered, Slughorn stared at the departing duo as the Holyhead Harpies team captain tilted her head in inquiry.
“Sluggy, what is going on? That young man, was that…?”
“Yes, Gwenog. That was Harry Potter. He’s said to be an excellent Quidditch Seeker. I was hoping to introduce you to him,” he said with a disappointed frown.
“Well, it seems he is otherwise…occupied,” she smirked, lifting a glass in a mock toast. “It’s just as I remember from my youth, Horace. You do throw the best parties,” Gwenog purred.
__________
Severus was infuriated, whether at the adolescent in his arms or that wicked girl back there, he couldn’t have said. He knew Harry was under a bewitchment now that he’d probed Ginny’s mind. But when he’d seen Harry spin her around the floor, staring into her eyes like they were completely alone, a rage like nothing he’d ever felt before had blossomed in his heart.
How dare that immature chit touch him, fawn on him, grope him in that obscene manner, for everyone to see? Such disgraceful behavior was not to be tolerated.
With Harry fighting him every step of the way, he struggled to get the brat to the dungeons. Severus carried many potions and their antidotes to them on his person. But a counteragent to Amortentia was not among them. What did he care if students got themselves caught up in their silly love games? Most of them were caught by the Heads of their Houses before any real damage could be done and Slytherins disdained the use of Amortentia, preferring to use charm, blackmail or subterfuge to win their chosen targets if love didn’t come into play.
But this was different. Harry was his and he was damned if a puerile witch who hadn’t even graduated from school was going to sink her claws into this brat he’d claimed as his own. He faltered when he thought of that and Harry nearly broke free of his grasp before he tightened his grip once more.
Harry wasn’t his. Just because they had fucked once…twice…oh, who was counting? That didn’t mean the boy belonged to him.
But the burning void he’d been feeling since they’d talked to the Headmaster was easing, turning to a yearning hum because of the lithe body pressed against his. He wanted to press Harry against the nearest wall and plunder that wet mouth squashed under his hand. Harry would sink his heat into Severus’s body and all the agony of the past few days would melt, snow in the glare of Harry Potter’s magical fire.
He didn’t dare. They were still far from the safety of the dungeons. On second thought, he realized that it might have been better to stun Harry and bring him to the hospital wing. But Harry might get the bright idea of demanding that Severus return him to Ginny and, given how he was forced to obey Harry’s commands, he simply couldn’t risk it. In the seclusion of his room, he could restrain the Gryffindor as long as needed with all the spells and potions at his command.
Severus was aware his thinking wasn’t quite what it should be. He was being as illogical as the brat struggling in his arms. Any moment now he might be caught by one of his Slytherins carrying Harry to the dungeons and what excuse could he make? Perhaps Pomfrey would be the better choice.
As he was debating the question, Harry dug his teeth into his hand and his hold loosened, enough for the brat to squirm away. “Don’t touch me, you shit!” he cried before trying to run back to the party.
Given that command, Severus couldn’t touch Harry physically. But there were other methods. So he simply thrust out a foot and tripped him. When Harry went sprawling, Severus cried, “Petrificus Totalis!”
Immediately Harry went rigid, his whole body locked and immobile. His eyes rolled helplessly in their sockets but the rage in them was eloquent.
Severus hesitated. He could take him safely to Madam Pomfrey’s now. An antidote to the Amortentia would be whipped up in his lab easily enough and all Harry would have to suffer would be the humiliation of knowing what that Weasley bitch had attempted.
But even now, in this twisted position, Harry was beautiful. The emerald eyes were sparkling in their wrath. His shirt had been tugged up in his struggles, exposing the sweetly bare stomach and limber muscle. The lad was temptation personified. Under other circumstances, what else might transpire between them?
Now he was becoming aroused, just from thinking about it. Doubly grateful for the voluminous robes he wore, he levitated the petrified body. “Mr. Potter, you are more trouble than you’re worth,” he whispered in exasperation as he waved the inert body to the hospital wing.
__________
Pomfrey looked into Harry’s eyes and sniffed at his breath. “You were right to bring him here, Snape. Obviously Amortentia. When will these students learn?” She clucked her tongue in disapproval.
“Adolescent hormones and magical love potions are always a dangerous combination, Pomfrey,” he drawled.
“They should make this stuff illegal. Give ‘em a taste of Azkaban. That would soon cure them of using it,” she ranted.
“We would have to imprison half of the student body every year if that were the case,” he replied with a smirk.
“Well, I’d better get him out of the Body-Bind. Otherwise his muscles will lock up and he’ll be very sore once the potion wears off.” She raised her wand and Severus grasped her arm. She looked at him quizzically. “Professor?”
“I take it you don’t have the antidote to hand?” When she shook her head, he continued. “Then I will leave and create it in my lab. It shouldn’t take long. In the meantime, you shouldn’t release Harry from the Body-Bind.”
“Why ever not?”
“In case you haven’t been listening to the rumors, Mr. Potter’s magic has been spiraling out of control at unpredictable moments. In his delirium, he might attack you, escape here and go searching out the offender who did this to him. As you know, Amortentia makes people violent, reckless and destructive. Mr. Potter doesn’t need the added remorse of assaulting an innocent on top of his embarrassment once he recovers his wits.”
“Oh.” She appeared uncertain but lowered the wand and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Harry would remain silent and immobile until he was in a position to release the Gryffindor from his enchantment. This would keep him from saying anything potentially…incriminating while he was gone.
Down in the dungeons, Severus worked furiously, thinking over the evening’s events. That Ginny Weasley would pay. Now that he knew she was after Harry, he would find a way to scotch her plans.
Yet why should he interfere? If Harry found himself genuinely interested in her, Severus had no right to stand in his way. True, she was only 15, not even of legal age. But neither was Harry and that hadn’t stopped Severus from allowing the brat to make lo--copulate with him on no less than three separate occasions.
The legality of it aside, the Weasley girl was the more suitable partner. She was a fellow student, the proper sex and no one would bat an eyelash if Harry should take up with her. If there was ever an acceptable and non-magical way to put a stop to this cursed Patronus link, this would be it.
Still…he and Harry needed to be together. The Headmaster had said their combined powers made them more than a match for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. So he would collaborate with Mr. Potter. It was for their own good and that of the wizarding world, after all.
But that would be all that was needed between them. There would be no sex.
His cock twitched in protest over that. He had gone too long without and the break in his abstinence with Harry had roused lovely memories of his youth. The idea of returning to his monk-like chastity was not pleasant one.
Well, was he a Potions master or not? There were brews he could take to dampen his libido to near non-existence. He would take them and then he could interact with Harry Potter in complete safety.
With this and other depressing resolutions in mind, he returned with renewed vigor to his brewing.
__________
Harry bent his head over his homework, tensely awaiting his best mate’s reaction.
“You’re telling me that Ginny--my little sister--gave you Amortentia?” Ron demanded. “I don’t believe it!”
Harry gave him an exasperated glare. “Why not?” he shot back. “I’ve never paid the least bit of attention to Ginny before! I wanted Cho Chang.”
“You and Cho never got along, Harry. Anybody could see that. I thought maybe you were just coming to your senses about Ginny, is all,” Ron mumbled mutinously.
Harry’s eyes widened. “Coming to my… Hang on, are you saying you want me to be with your little sister? I thought you’d be royally steamed over it!”
“Well, maybe at first. But I know that Ginny’s been mad for you for a while, Harry. And you’re my best mate. Why wouldn’t I want the two of you together?”
This was a shock and not a good one. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I mean, I think of you as my best mate, too. That’s why I’d never hit on your little sister. I’d never do that to you, Ron.”
“Are you kidding? You’re a decent bloke, Harry. I know that. So feel free, okay? Just no snogging in public,” Ron added.
“Ron, when are you going to let Ginny lead her own life? She’s not a little girl any more,” Hermione said in exasperation.
“Hermione, you’re an only kid so you just don’t get it. Ginny is my younger sister. She’s my only sister! And she’s still only 15. So maybe the two of you should hold off for another year,” Ron added to Harry.
“Maybe Ginny won’t want to do that, especially if she’s been with blokes like Dean Thomas,” Harry countered. He took a deep breath. “Maybe I don’t want to do that, either. Be with Ginny, I mean.”
Ron’s stare became thunderous. “Why not? What’s wrong with my sister?”
“Nothing! She’s a nice girl. And that may be the problem.” Harry drew a steadying breath. Merlin, this was going to be hard. But he’d never get a better opening than this. “Ron, Hermione, I think--I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m into…blokes.”
Brown eyes narrowed but a look of satisfaction settled on Hermione’s face, as if a personal suspicion had just been confirmed. Ron’s expression, however, was far less reassuring. The thin face went so pale the freckles stood out like Dragon Pox. His mouth dropped open, giving him a total gobsmacked look. “Huh?”
“I said I’m into blokes. I’ve been for a while, I think.”
The stunned look didn’t leave Ron’s face. Instead the whiteness turned into a flush that rivaled his hair for sheer redness. “Y-you…what?”
“He’s making himself perfectly clear, Ron. Harry prefers men.” Hermione turned to Harry. “That’s great, Harry. Do you have anyone in particular you like? Or are you just aware that you prefer men in general?”
Trust Hermione to get down to the nuts and bolts about this. “Um, there may be someone--special.”
Ron appeared to have recovered his voice if not his wits. “Are you sure? I mean, that you like…” He swallowed. “People of the bloke persuasion? What if this is just school hormones run amuck? Someone else casting Amortentia? Or stress? Or a spell by You-Know-Who?”
Hermione gave Ron a look of sheer disbelief. “Are you out of your mind, Ron? I know Voldemort--oh stop it, will you?--can confound people but I never heard of him making anyone homosexual! What good would that do him?”
“I don’t know! Bring them into the inner fold, maybe? Everyone knows that most of his Death Eaters are blokes. What better way to reel them in them than with a good solid shag?” Ron demanded.
Harry tried not to flinch. Wasn’t that what Lucius had done to Severus? It was clear to Harry that Malfoy hadn’t given a flying shit about the young Severus, had only used his body to snare the budding potions genius.
Maybe that was one reason Severus was rejecting him now. Severus knew there was a spell involved. He probably didn’t want to get involved again with someone who’d kick him to the curb once the magic wore off.
A sick feeling surged into Harry’s throat. Not only had he forced himself on a man he was starting to have tender feelings about, he hadn’t even taken Severus’s feelings into account afterwards. He was no better than Lucius.
Oblivious to Harry’s confusion, Ron was still scrambling for an explanation, any explanation, for the sudden worrying conversion of his best friend. “Could this have something to do with all your powers going wonky?”
“What?” Harry stared, puzzled.
“You suddenly discover you’re gay and at the same time your powers are smashing folks into walls. I don’t think that’s a coincidence, mate.”
“Ron, the two have nothing to do with each other.” But a niggling doubt wormed into Harry’s mind. He had begun snogging and shagging Snape because of a spell after all. And afterwards his magic had started to get away from him. If the two were connected, then maybe he was no more gay than Ron was.
The implications were disturbing. But, no, he was sure he had been attracted to blokes before this month. He had thought that Cedric was handsome when he’d first seen him, an odd flutter twitching in his stomach that he had ignored at the time. And Terry Boots wasn’t bad when you saw him in a good light…
“Harry? Did you hear me?”
He blinked. Hermione had said something but he’d totally missed it. “What?”
“This man you like. Who is he?”
“Um…it’s private,” he mumbled.
Now Ron flared up. Having gotten over his shock--mostly--he wanted to know everything. “Blimey, mate. You can’t spring news like this on us and not give details! If he’s a--friend of yours, we won’t give him a hard time.”
Harry fidgeted, his trainer scuffing the floor, and looked around at the common room. They were more or less alone because he hadn’t wanted possible snoops listening in when he told Ron how his little sister had misbehaved. But now the trap of his friend’s concern made him wish that others were nearby to interrupt.
“He’s not really all that…we’ve been…a couple of times…but--” He shrugged, frustrated at not being able to explain. “It’s complicated.”
“Ron, I don’t think Harry is ready to tell us everything yet.” Harry snuck a look at her and saw a pitying compassion in the brown eyes that made his insides twist. He wasn’t a child to be babied. Maybe he should tell her--just to see the shock on her face.
Again, he had Severus to consider. Merlin, he hated this. Wasn’t it hard enough to be different from everybody else--the sodding Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, targeted by Voldemort--without having to hide something as basic as the person you were sleeping with?
Ron, as usual, completely missed the emotional subtleties of the situation. “What’s the big deal? He ashamed of you or something? Wait a sec.” Horror bloomed on his face, turning it splotchy again. “It-it isn’t…Malfoy, is it?”
Hermione made a face. “Ewwww, Ron!”
“Blimey, mate, are you cracked?”
The outraged cries came from the two other Gryffindors at the same time. Ron threw up his hands in protest. “What? I’m just asking, is all! You’ve been kinda obsessed by him this year and I wondered.”
“No, Ron. It isn’t Draco. I’m gay not insane.”
With that, the tension was broken. Hermione giggled, Ron let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and Harry grinned. Reaching for a treacle tart, he jammed it into his mouth, effectively preventing any more awkward conversation.

TBC
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The Way of the Patronus