Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Love is Cold	By : CruelHero Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 9211 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters associated with the Harry Potter universe. I make no profit from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
                                                      Chapter Six

Harry rushed down the hall, straightening his hair and robes as he ran. He was going to be late to the welcoming ceremonies if he didn’t hurry and it wouldn’t look very good if they called on him to stand as a new professor and he wasn’t there.

He checked his watch, something that was bound to seem strange in a society of magical folk, but he kept it as a small reminder of where he came from- and where he did not want to go back. It read two minutes to go.

He was almost there.

Harry turned the corner. He could see the teacher’s entrance, the open door, and the back of Hermione’s head.

Skidding to a stop, he whisper-shouted, “Hey…Hermione.”

She turned to look at him, hand on her hip, a jokingly disappointed half-smile on her face. ”I knew you would wait to show up until the last possible second, Harry.”

Harry shrugged and the line of Professors started to filter out into the great hall. He patted his robes down one more time, feeling like he looked strange regardless of how many times Hermione insisted that the plain black suited him.

She pulled on his sleeve, whispering for him to hurry and walked out with the end of the line.

Harry followed close behind her. He took the seat to her left at the corner of the table so that more objects would block him from view and kept his eyes on everything but the other Professors. He didn’t want to see Snape just yet. He was too nervous and knew that the other man would see it in his eyes where no one else could. Then again, letting him see that fear might just help him in the long run. It was something he thought he should think about later.

Hermione elbowed him in the side. Harry frowned, following the direction her finger pointed.

McGonagall stood rigidly at the podium. She was introducing the professors and had just called his name.

Harry put down the fork he had been playing with and stood as briefly as he could get away with. A strange mixture of awed clapping and murmurs surrounded the great hall. It was nothing less than embarrassing, exactly as he had expected and it took him a long time to calm his nerves afterward. He tried to block his view of the students with Hermione’s head and forced his focus on the food now that they could eat it.

For the rest of the meal Hermione kept a conversation going with all the professors. Harry was glad to busy himself with eating and only had to join in when he wanted too.

For the most part his thoughts were on weather or not he should finally tell her about his problem. Ultimately he decided not to. It just didn’t seem right to make her worry when he didn’t even know what was happening to him yet.

A poorly created love potion didn’t curse him or surely it would have clashed with the test samples he routinely tasted from his creations. Though technically it was possible for it to not clash, but he had to cling to some form of hope or he would break down in frustration. Lying to himself was all he had.

Harry picked up a spoon and forgot to not look at faces. He was checking the table for his favorite dissert, which happened to be directly across from him at the table making up the other end of the oddly shaped U.

Snape’s eyes connected with his and he held them for a long moment.

Harry swallowed.

Snape turned away. There was nothing there, just passive boredom as always. Then Snape put his dissert spoon down and excused himself from the celebration.

Harry blinked. He tried to keep the stunned hurt from his face as best he could but there was a terrible swelling ache in the center of he chest. The cold was constricting, making it harder for him to breath and he could feel his body physically cooling.

Harry was afraid of what would come. The last time his breathing had been hindered by the curse he passed out and when he came too deadly sharp ice shards impaled every inch of his hut, radiating out in a sphere, his body at the center. That couldn’t happen here. Innocent people, innocent children, could die.

Harry panicked. A puff of chill air passed over his lips, billowing out in a tiny cloud. Harry clasped a hand over his mouth. Someone was going to notice. He had to get out of there fast.

He watched another Professor excuse herself and seized his chance. Leaving now wouldn’t be suspicious. Harry leaned just far enough away from Hermione that wouldn’t be considered strange, yet far enough still that she wouldn’t feel the cold radiating from him when he spoke. He told her he needed to work on preparing a demonstrative potion for his first class and promised to meet her later to avoid suspicion.

In the hallway he ran faster away from the celebration than he had going to it. Before he lost all of his senses he cast a disillusion and silencing charm incase anyone was around to see him. He made it to his rooms just in time to fall inside the door and managed to kick it shut as he fell.

Harry drug himself across the floor to the nearest chair and propped up against it. Sweat beaded from his every pore. Wide-eyed, he stared at his hands. Even his fingertips were wet.

Liquid began to poor from his eyes like tears, but he wasn’t crying. He reached up and smeared it across is cheek. It was clear and cool, like water, only thicker and he couldn’t make it stop. It flowed steadily. Unending.

It came from his nose like a horrible nosebleed. It ran out his ears. It choked him and sprayed from his mouth like vomit. He couldn’t breathe, and yet he was, even as it bubbled from his mouth like a spring.

Harry’s chest heaved painfully. He squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to scream but he was drowning in the viscous water.

It drenched his body completely. The floor squished beneath him and the cold flowed from his lips. As it seeped further down his body the liquid began to crystallize.

Harry’s vision blurred and faded. When his legs iced over and stuck to the floor, his world went black.

                                                                             *****

Severus had never been comfortable with his life. The more time that passed the more he hated himself for not changing it when the chance too would arise. And it wasn’t often that one came around.

He loved Lilly Evans. He should have made that clear to her. He shouldn’t have hurt her or let her die.

He should have protected her son better. He shouldn’t have treated him so cruelly. He shouldn’t have fallen in love with someone he could never have. And most of all, he shouldn’t have fallen in love with a child.

So many should and should not haves that he regretted, and yet, he also realized that if he wasn’t the very way he was, the Harry that he loved wouldn’t exist. There was nothing that he could change without loosing something else important and so he had given up on the ‘I should - I shouldn’t’ long ago. Hating and tormenting himself – that was the way it would be instead. Rage and disdain was his. No one could take that from him.

Then he was offered a way out, relief from the pain. He gave his life, gave every bit of what he could to repay what he had done to Lilly – for Harry. And the gods gave him something in return. His dying image would be the face of the one he loved; scared, worried, upset - all for him.

What a joke.

To wake up in a crappy infirmary room with blinding pain and annoying women who would rather eat a raw Blast-Ended Skrewt than treat him – living in hell was the real gift the gods had given him, and his Harry was the one that had chosen it for him.

Could he really have been expected to say anything less than what he had said to Harry that day? It was the truth after all, and if it pushed him away, then so be it. It would be easier to continue in hell without Harry in it to ‘stir up the cauldron’, as his mother used to say.

When the news spread of Harry leaving, Severus went back to teaching to be near the places Harry had been. It was the most he would allow himself.

When he caught wind of what Harry was doing with his life away from England, Severus began to wonder what could have been. He let himself imagine just one shouldn’t have and the outcome of taking back the harsh words he spoke to Harry.

When Minerva announced at a staff meeting that Harry Potter would be joining them as the new Potions Professor and his aid, well, Severus didn’t know what to think. If he could see a chance to make his life better for what it was, his life would have been a hell of a lot different. But if there was some bit of good to be found, Severus never saw it until it was way to late. This time around he wouldn’t be so quick to shout his bitter words. This time around he would try to see the good first.

His first chance to practice that resolution came while he was waiting for his weekly treatment from Madam Pomfrey. He had been contemplating taking a walk in the forbidden forest. The weather appeared nice from the infirmary window and the breeze felt good against his skin. Severus had not expected to see Harry when he noticed someone else was there. It startled him. Those green eyes sealed his lips together and filled his every thought until nothing else existed in his mind. They were gone much too quickly, but the image they left behind dredged up enough frustration to leave him agitated for weeks on end.

The damn boy wouldn’t even look at him during the ceremony. And when he finally did he had the audacity to do it by accident. It was as if he was purposely ignoring him.

Well, he too could play that game.

Severus really did want to finish his Poire Belle-Hélène, it was his favorite dessert, but he had to show Potter that he could ignore him just the same. Of course, Harry’s actions probably had something to do with the last time they met, but that was beside the point. Severus would not be ignored without consequences.

He sauntered down the hall slowly and refused to think of it as pouting; rather, he liked the term sullen. Breaking away from the anger that consumed him seemed an impossible task. Rational thought told him that he had nothing to be mad at Harry for, but the sight of him, his childish actions, quite frankly, pissed him off. How he could desire such an imbecile…who could ever know why he was as twisted as he was?

The real question however, was- could such an imbecile, a beautiful, courageous, selfless, perfect imbecile, desire someone tainted and twisted like him?

The answer, without a doubt, could only be a resolute no.

Severus’ lip curled.

Two years was a long time to think about his request for permanent space. He had been in a terrible way then. Pain was his overriding emotion. He told himself that he hadn’t been thinking straight. He wanted to ask forgiveness. But that wasn’t who he was. Not on the outside. Those were things he kept to himself while he molded any given situation to the outcome he wanted. He would just have to do that again now. He would act livid, refuse to believe that he actually wasn’t, and make Harry pay for crossing him. Then he would calm down as Harry would be expecting and guide things slowly in his favor. If hell was where he had to stay, he could try to make it bearable, even if he could never hope to have exactly what he wanted.

Severus heard footsteps coming from behind him. They were heavy and approaching fast. He slipped into the shadows. All the children should still be at the ceremony, which meant he would be giving out the first point deduction of the year. He smirked and dropped his wand down from the holster hidden up his sleeve. A tripping hex waited at the tip of his tongue.

But the footsteps stopped and the body, which had just come into his view, vanished. It was a well cast disillusion charm, yet Severus has seen enough of a blur of black on black, a flash of light glinting off metal glasses, and a distressed look of fear, to know that it had been Harry bloody Potter.

Severus’ eyebrow rose. He looked back the other direction.

What could possibly have Harry Potter running scared, he wondered, and decided to pass by Gryffindor tower before he went to his rooms.

                                                                         *****

It was mid-morning when Harry finally woke. The light shone in his living room windows just right to hit him in the eyes. He had a throbbing headache and a bump just above his temple. Harry checked his watch. He also had a meeting with the headmistress in less then twenty minutes.

There was no time to think about what had happened or why. As long as everything was fine –he scanned the room…it was‑ then he could afford to put it off. He needed a hot shower more than he needed time to think. Remnants of sweat and ice and that strange water clung to him like mud, making him feel gross.

The coldness numbed his limbs and when he shed his clothes he found a new patch of translucent, icy skin. He cast his usual spell, creating a second skin over the transformed area of his hand and arm, and covered the new patch on his collarbone just in case.

Steam immediately filled the room when Harry stepped in the shower. He had exactly four minutes to enjoy the heat. It wasn’t nearly long enough and all the while he dressed and fast-walked to McGonagall’s office he imagined taking a nice long bath in his luxury tub.

                                                            *****

The new Headmistress’s office was a far cry from what it used to be. It was simple but elegant with no distinguishing features. Harry liked it. It didn’t remind him of the war.

“How are you getting along, Professor Potter?” McGonagall asked.

Harry expected to be offered a cup of tea but he wasn’t. He smiled the best fake smile he could manage. “Well, thank you.”

“Very good.” She nodded in approval and leaned forward in her chair. “I asked you here this morning to discuss what I had mentioned when I offered you the Potions position. Professor Snape needs an aid for practical defense in the DADA classes and has agreed to work with you. ”

Harry blinked. Snape agreed to work with him? Was that good or bad? Or did agreed mean he had no choice? Harry tried not to frown. “Alright?”

McGonagall picked up a sheet of parchment and read from it. “Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of the second and fourth weeks of the month the Professor will require your help,” she laid the paper down and looked at him, “Since there is no longer a war, only our 5^th through 7^th year students take practical application of defense. We’ve worked both of your schedules around so that this won’t interfere with any of your other obligations. If any problems should arise in the future I’ll do my best to solve them. Do you have any questions?”

Harry shook his head. He just wanted to go take that bath he had been daydreaming about. Besides, he was going to be sent a parchment with the details on it later anyway. Then it suddenly hit him and he sat straighter in the chair. If he was just going to get a parchment on the whole thing anyway then she could have easily stopped him in the hall or firecalled him or something. He didn’t need to meet her in private at her office.

There must have been something else she wanted. Harry studied her face for clues as to what it might be. He didn’t like what he saw.

The headmistress frowned. She picked up a parchment and then immediately put it back down. She took a deep breath and finally looked Harry in the eyes. “Harry, I’m no Dumbledore –“

Harry paled.

“ – But I care about you just the same as he did. If you need anything at all, I want you to know that you can come to me. “

Harry forced a smile. He thought he was getting much better at making them look real. “Thanks, Headmistress. I’ll remember that,” he said. He was starting to feel much too much like a student instead of a professor.

“Good. Good. So how did your visit with Pomfrey go?”

Harry thought of bashing his head on the desk.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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

Love is Cold