Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Thicker Than Water	By : harriet Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9575 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I don't profess to own any of the characters or plot co-incidents with the Harry Potter series written by JK Rowling, contained within this story. I do neither profit monetarily nor legally from anything contained within these pages.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
CHAPTER 7
Harry spent the afternoon relaxing in his newly appointed chambers, trying to adjust to his new surroundings. The encounter with Hartford weighed heavily. Without his own magic he was defenseless against anything he faced within the castle walls and it wasn’t without reason that he’d remained in the dungeons all afternoon. He felt like a mouse in a pit full of vipers, and he distantly hoped he could avoid ever leaving the safety of these four walls. He’d spared an hour or so to think about what Snape had mentioned about ‘Elvan’ talent and Hartford, but ultimately Harry had realized like most things now, it meant little or nothing to him. After a cup of tea delivered by Dobby, Harry had put the whole incident out of his mind and had set to work on his chambers.
Throughout the afternoon Harry had found himself performing menial tasks that Dobby hadn’t gotten around to completing such as hanging his own clothes and cleaning off surfaces in the bathroom. However 5.30 saw Harry still sitting on the floor in his bedroom, the contents of his trunk strewn around him as he stared blankly at the willow wand on the floor in front of him. Harry had been staring at it for over an hour, its presence stirring long squashed emotions deep inside him. Most notably the first time he’d ever held the slender willow wand, and the surge of power and magic that had tingled along his spine.
Now however he remembered the last time he used it, the last curse that had been screamed from his lips and brought to life in a vibrant green flash from the willow’s tip. It all seemed a distant nightmare one he’d taken years to suppress, until now. So many memories were wrapped up in the one item in his trunk, he should have known better than to look for it. Tears stung his eyes as he continued to stare at the wand. It had hardly seemed real those first few months after the war. There had been so many funerals, so many lost souls to cry over, some closer than others. By the end of it all he thought he’d run out of tears, and as each funeral passed the tears had stopped coming. After all the funerals that’s when he’d noticed his magic. It wasn’t obvious at first, just small things like summoning charms that he’d have to attempt twice or three times before they would work. Harry had put it down to stress and shook it off, but as the months had turned into a year, there was no denying his magic was failing.
With the wizarding world rebuilding and a new sense of peace settling over wizarding England, Harry had found himself adrift in a world he’d once felt something akin to a home. His classmates and friends had been swept up in their own families business, following the new futures they’d forged for themselves. The Order of the Phoenix had been disbanded as the Ministry had taken over rounding up the remainder of Tom’s supporters. Even the Weasley’s had turned inward to look after their own. Harry had hung around for a while until Harry had finally realized it was hard for them to look at him knowing he was a constant reminder of their lost only daughter. Eventually Harry had drift apart from them and found himself alone with little purpose to his life, having never considered a future beyond the war.
He’d tried numerous sources for cures for his magical problem, the cost of such treatments eventually seeing his families fortune dwindle away to very little. He’d tried desperately to hold on to the one thing left in his life that meant something but that too had slipped away to nothing. No one recognized the boy who lived anymore and no one acknowledged a washed up muggle born, without money or magic. An outcast from a life he’d so briefly enjoyed he turned back to the muggle world he knew all too well, and resolutely disappeared from polite wizarding society. He’d come to terms with everything eventually, and that had been his life for 8 years, until a familiar red headed Weasley had stepped into The Fox’s Den five months ago.
Harry shook his head, and wiped at the tears rolling unchecked down his face. He would not do this to himself again. He would not relieve the possibilities of what could have been. Angry now, he stood up from the floor and snatched up the willow wand. With gritted teeth he threw the offending item back into his trunk, along with various other items from his old life before slamming the lid shut and striding from the room. The wizarding world had forgotten him and now that hell had knocked on their front door again, they’d come knocking on his.
“Fuck ‘em all to buggery. The selfish arseholes. Who do they think I am? I’m not a fucking slave….” Angry now Harry paced past the fireplace his fists clenched in unrestrained anger, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry briefly wished he’d had the forethought to bring alcohol with him as he stormed over to his satchel on the armchair, and snatched up his cigarettes and lighter. He was just inhaling the first delicious drag of clove in an attempt at calming himself down when he’d felt a chill sweep briefly across his person. Before he could extinguish the cigarette however the door to his chamber swung open and a familiar black robed figure swept inside without being invited. Slightly stunned by the sudden appearance of Snape, Harry didn’t even flinch as the professor strode over to him and snatched the cigarette out of his hand.
“No smoking, you imbecilic moron!” Snape growled in what Harry could only term as his best snarl, the one reserved for only the most petulant of students. Despite the affront, something in the professor’s familiar tone settled the unrest in Harry’s chest. If nothing else in this world Snape would never change.
“I’m not a student any longer.” Harry spoke firmly as he watched Snape take the offending cigarette and crush it out in the sink of the small kitchenette.
“No you are not, and as such have a duty to conduct yourself in a manner which is befitting a professor here at Hogwarts by setting an example of good behaviour. Furthermore I believe I expressly told you no smoking while here.” Harry watched cautiously as the professor folded his arms over his chest, the black billowing robes wrapping around him like a set of wings, as he stared at Harry, daring him to question his authority. Rolling his eyes Harry nodded and sat himself down in the armchair by the fire, gesturing with a casual wave of his hand at the vacant chair in front of him. For an instant Harry saw a strange emotion race across the professors serious scowl, a somewhat sort of unease as if he’d expecting a different reaction than silent acceptance from the young man in front of him. Snape hesitate unsure whether to sit down, he and the boy had never had this kind of relationship and it seemed awkward all of a sudden. Harry could feel the tension and shook his head at the indecision in the usually forthright professor.
“For once in your fucking life just relax for five seconds, I promise I won’t tell a sole.” After a small hesitation Snape sat down, his arms coming to rest in his lap as he peered curiously at the young man sat before him. When the wards had alerted him to cigarette smoke in Harry’s chambers he hadn’t thought twice about barging into his ex-students rooms to give the boy a piece of his mind. However as he sat staring at the 24 year old before him, the man’s head resting in his hands, his eyes closed in exhaustion, he realized his mistake.
“I apologize.” Snape whispered, watching as Harry looked up briefly over the rims of his glasses. “I’m afraid I am guilty of treating you as I did when you were my student here, a habit I am ashamed to think I haven’t broken in all these years.” Harry shrugged, somewhat shocked having heard the words spill out from between the professors lips. Severus Snape did not apologies to anyone. When Harry made no move to reply to the apology, the professor relaxed back in the armchair and crossed his legs over. The black teaching robes split perfectly to reveal the long slender leg clad in beautiful wool trousers, and the scruffy potion stained dragon hide boots that the professor preferred. Harry’s perusal of Snape’s figure didn’t go unmissed and after an awkward pause, Snape continued. “Albus has asked for our presence in his office after dinner, I believe he has called a meeting.”
Harry sighed heavily. “Really? And here I was thinking I was just a guest here.” Snape’s eyebrow raised a fraction at the bitter sarcasm that rolled so easily from the boy’s lips. Harry had grown up and just as Snape had predicted the boy had become jaded by the society that had left him behind. Guilt tugged at Snape’s chest but he quickly squashed it. He alone was not responsible for this change in the wizarding world’s savior and he steadfastly refused to be a party to it.
“Indeed, I have little doubt that the headmasters meeting will be entirely devoid of good news. Perhaps we may fortify ourselves against such doom by drinking before dinner.” From within his teaching robe Snape produced a small hip flask, its gold coating catching the fire light and glinting in Harry’s eyes.
“You bloody ripper.” Harry cursed as he watched Snape twist open the lid of the flask, taking a strong pull of the alcohol contained within, before offering it over to Harry. Harry leaned forward a little too eagerly and accepted the flask, his fingertips brushing those of his professors lightly. For a brief moment Harry held Snape’s gaze the kiss they’d shared in Harry’s flat above the club flashing through his memory like lightening and making his stomach flutter uncomfortably. As quickly as it came the memory left, and Harry pulled away from Snape to take his own large swig of the whisky inside the flask. The whisky was warm, sweet and burned its way comfortably down Harry’s throat, squashing what remained of his earlier upset and anger. After another generous swig Harry handed the flask back to Snape carefully avoiding touching the elder wizards hands this time. “Right so no smoking but I can drink?” Harry questioned feeling a lot more like himself again. Snape nodded as he took a final swill from his flask and tucked it back into his teaching robes.
“Indeed I find it is often the only thing that stands between me and genocide somedays.” Snape sighed heavily and stood up from the armchair. For the first time since Snape had come to retrieve him at the club, Harry saw the weight of the world come crashing back onto the position professors shoulders. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only casualty of the war. “Will you accompany me to dinner?” Harry nodded and grabbed his leather calf length coat from the back of the chair and pulled it on.
“Professor?” Snape paused as he exited Harry’s chamber into the quiet dimly lit corridor of his beloved dungeons, glancing back over his shoulder as Harry closed the door to his chambers with a firm push.
“Severus.” Snape whispered quietly interrupting Harry’s obvious train of thought.
“Pardon?” Harry hadn’t caught on.
“Severus, that’s my name.” Snape said with a sigh as Harry fell into step beside him. “I suggest you start calling me by it, so that your ruse as Professor Evans is not compromised.” Harry nodded in understanding as they passed through the staircases of the dungeons leading up to the great hall. “You were saying?” Snape prompted the young man to continue as a few nervous first years scampered into the safety of the hall as they saw the professor’s approach. Harry managed a smug smile at the retreating figures of students, Snape’s reputation preceding him.
“I was going to ask if there was something I could do while I was here.” Harry continued walking as Snape gestured for him to move in front so they could walk easily between the already full house tables of the great hall. Unconsciously Snape took the opportunity of having the young man walking in front of him to appraise his person. The leather coat made the young wizard look sleek, the finely muscled frame set perfectly beneath the muggle jeans and form fitting blue t-shirt. Although Harry may have missed it, Snape too was acutely aware that he was not the only one appreciating the sight of the young wizard in front of him. The blushing cheeks and quiet twittering as he passed by the student’s tables earning them a perfected glare from the potions professor. Indeed if amounting to nothing else Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived had certainly grown into his good looks.
Snape waited until they were seated at the professors table before he chose to answer Harry’s question. “I’m sure there is something we can find to occupy your time. Nothing requiring magic of course but we shall see.” Snape finished matter of factly, as the Headmaster who was finally satisfied that everyone was present, began the evening notices before the meal was served.
“Thanks.” Harry whispered below the voice of the Headmaster as he sat back and relaxed to wait for the food. All the while inwardly wondering how the evenings meeting would progress and contemplating the new found equilibrium he’d found with Severus Snape.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Thicker Than Water

CHAPTER 7