Potions Lessons | By : Senchan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 9975 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Remedial Potions
Author: Grasshopper-chan
Rating: M+
Pairing: SS/HP
Summary: Severus notices that Harry makes the
stupidest mistakes in his class, mistakes that even Harry Potter shouldn’t
make, and seeks to rectify that, inadvertently learning the boy’s deepest
secret in the process. Told more from Snape’s view. Ignores HBP.
Warnings: slash (male/male eroticism), Harry is
sixteen (is that underage?)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I pity you if
you think otherwise and can refer you to my psychiatrist. She’s helped me come
to terms with the fact that I do not own anything.
Severus
Snape was not having a good day. First thing in the morning, he had first year
Hufflepuffs who couldn’t follow directions to save their lives, fifth year Ravenclaws
who thought they knew better than him, and then after lunch he had sixth year
Gryffindor-Slytherin to put the icing on the cake. Class with
Longbottom. And Potter. He shuddered at the memory
and at the sight of what the brat had done to his classroom.
Everything was going smoothly. Severus was patrolling
the aisles and examining the students’ progress. Most of his Slytherins were
doing just fine, as usual. Likewise, as usual the Gryffindors had generally
made a complete mess of their potions. And what had possessed him to allow
Potter and Longbottom to work together? Those two alone created trouble, but
together they had wrought nothing short of disaster. Their Sobering Draught,
which was supposed to be light blue, was greenish-brown and bubbling over. It
was truly a disgusting sight. How did McGonagall convince him to allow Potter
and Longbottom to join his N.E.W.T. class for the sake of their bloody Auror
Training again?
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed
Potter haphazardly toss a handful of skrewt entrails into the hideous
concoction. He held his breath and waited for the unavoidable explosion. The
subsequent blast covered half the classroom and its occupants with
greenish-brown muck. Luckily, it was the Gryffindor half that suffered this
misfortune and not his precious Slytherins.
Instead of shouting furiously as might have been
expected of him, he approached the pair and said in a dangerous murmur, “Well,
well, what do we have here? Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Potter…why doesn’t that surprise
me? Fifty points from Gryffindor.” There was a
collective groan from their classmates. “Each,” he added, enjoying the
increased misery of his least favorite students. Longbottom looked close to
wetting himself, and Potter was on the verge of a violent explosion himself.
“As for you two, Mr. Longbottom will serve detention with Filch this evening,
and Mr. Potter will report here to clean up this refuse by hand. No magic.”
Potter was biting his lip now, his face twisted into an angry snarl.
Yes,
Severus had gotten some satisfaction out of humiliating the pair, but not
nearly enough to make up for the damage they had done to his lab. A timid knock
on the door startled him out of his thoughts.
“Enter,”
he said coldly, knowing very well who was on the other side of the door:
Potter. The door creaked open and, sure enough, Harry Potter entered almost
shyly. What happened to that brazen boldness that Gryffindors were known for?
“I’m
here for my detention, Sir,” Potter mumbled, shifting awkwardly on his feet.
Severus
raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say?” He motioned toward a bucket and rag that
was on the filthy table. “Well, get to work,” he snapped. The boy jumped and
hastily obeyed. Severus watched the boy scrub at the dried mess for a few
seconds before returning his attention to the essays he was supposed to be
grading. He picked up his quill and began to mark up the parchment with an
onslaught of red ink. By the time he was finished, it looked like someone had
bled all over it.
Fifty
essays later, Severus heard a hesitant, “Um, Sir?” He looked up and scowled at
Potter, who was fidgeting in front of his desk. “I’m finished.” Severus glanced
at the area that Potter had been required to clean and was grudgingly impressed
at how spotless it was. “Can I go?”
“Yes.
Report again tomorrow night to redo the ruined assignment,” Severus told him.
Potter looked surprised but nodded and meekly left. Severus wouldn’t normally
have let the boy make up the assignment, but if there was one thing he never
wanted to deal with, it was an intoxicated Harry Potter. Perhaps teaching him
how to make a Sobering Draught would lower the chances of such an occurrence.
Then again, if Potter knew how to make a Sobering Draught, he might be more inclined to drink.
Severus’
scowl deepened and he turned his attention back to the few remaining essays he
had left to grade. Before he did so, he glanced at the clock. It was nearly midnight. It had taken the brat a surprisingly long time to
clean up.
The
next evening, Potter reported promptly to redo his potion. He was even meeker
than the day before. He stirred they way Severus told him to stir, chopped the
way Severus told him to chop, and added ingredients to the cauldron as
instructed. It was rather disconcerting, but the potion turned out beautifully.
“It
worked,” Potter said in wonder. “It really worked. I did it!” He turned to grin
at Severus. “I actually did it, Professor!” he exclaimed excitedly.
Severus
sneered. “It only took you twice as long as the rest of the class and six hours
of my time.” Potter’s smile dimmed and he bowed his head.
“I’m
sorry, Sir. I know I’m a lot of trouble,” he said. Severus raised an eyebrow.
“Everyone says so. Well, if there’s nothing else I need to do, I’ll be going
now.”
Severus
didn’t know what possessed him, but he found himself saying, “Actually, there
is something you can do for me, Mr. Potter.” The hopeful look on the boy’s face
was almost worth it—almost. He motioned for the boy to follow him. He quickly
set up a cauldron, ignoring Potter’s look of dread, and said, “I want you to
make a Wit-Sharpening Potion. Go get the ingredients from the classroom
cupboard.” He received a blank look. Sighing heavily, he recited the
ingredients needed for the potion and the young wizard immediately went to retrieve
them.
Returning
with the materials, Potter looked at him expectantly. “Oh, no you don’t,
Potter. You’re going to make this one on your own. Use a book if you must.”
Potter flushed and quietly summoned his Potions textbook. Severus pulled up a
chair and straddled it, leaning his arms on its back, while he watched Potter
flip hurriedly through the pages of his old text in search of the potion. “Page
212,” he muttered. Potter glanced up at him with wide eyes and then turned to
the page he’d just been referred to.
Severus
watched carefully as Potter diced the scarab beetles and flattened the ginger
root. “Grind the beetles to powdery grains, Potter, don’t dice them. Use the
blade of the knife to cut up the ginger root, and be careful not to smash it.
The air pores in the roots are essential to the potion’s success.” Potter
amended his movements in accordance with Severus’ instructions. Severus
continued to correct Potter’s mistakes, and in the end Potter managed to
produce a decent Wit-Sharpening Potion, though he did get armadillo guts all
over the work station. The boy didn’t have trouble following direction; he
obeyed every command Severus gave him exactly. His problem, it seemed, was in
interpreting the meaning of the direction listed in the book.
“Bottle
that,” he instructed. While Potter set out to follow the order, Severus slipped
into his office next door and scanned the top shelf in his small potions
reference library. He soon found what he was searching for and returned to the
classroom, book in hand, to find Potter scrubbing the table clean. It was good
to know the brat had some initiative.
Potter looked up at him curiously when he and handed him the heavy tome.
“What’s
this, Sir?” Potter inquired, taking the book gingerly. He opened the worn cover
and began to flip through the musty pages, careful not to damage the pages.
“This
was my textbook when I was in school. It has notes in the margin that will be
of use to you,” Severus explained.
“Are
you giving this to me?” Severus nodded once. Potter spied the name inside the
book and raised an eyebrow inquiringly. “The Half-Blood Prince, Sir?”
Severus
paled. “It doesn’t matter. Just be grateful for my generosity,” he snapped.
Potter
closed the book and smiled at him. “Thank you, Sir. I appreciate the help. I am grateful,” he assured Severus, who
dismissed him with the wave of his hand. He was almost sad to see the boy go.
“Stupid
Potter,” he muttered to himself.
Severus
was once again up late grading pathetic essays written by foolish, indifferent
slackers. It was a little after eleven when he heard a soft knock on the door
of his office. At first he thought it was just his imagination, a negative
side-affect of working so late, but when he heard it a second time, a little
bolder than the first, he rose to answer it.
Potter
was smiling up at him sheepishly. “Hi, Professor, I was wondering if you could
help me with this potion,” he said, holding up the open book to a page on
Veritaserum. Severus’ eyebrows shot up. “I understand the theory,” Potter continued,
“but I was afraid to attempt it without supervision.”
Taking
a deep breath, Severus said, “Potter, do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Elevenish?”
The sheepish smile now had a guilty tinge to it, but Potter wasn’t backing
down. Against his better judgment, Severus opened the door wider to admit the
boy. Potter hurried inside before Severus could rethink his decision. He
scrambled over to the cupboard and collected the proper ingredients, walking
briskly to the workstation where Severus had set up a cauldron.
Glancing
at Severus for affirmation every so often, the young wizard went to work,
diligently preparing the raw materials and adding them as was specified.
Severus sat back and watched in amazement at the transformation he was
witnessing. Harry Potter, Potions underachiever of the century, was diligently
and almost flawlessly preparing Veritaserum. Severus only had to correct him
twice throughout the process, and they were minor mistakes that would only have
affected the amount of time the potion would last. When it was finished, Potter
looked at him, awaiting a critique.
“Bottle
the product,” Severus told him. “You did very well.”
“Really?”
Potter’s eyes lit up with glee at the compliment. “Thank you so much, Professor
Snape! It’s because of the book you gave me. I understand Potions so much
better because of it.” For a moment, Severus was afraid that Potter was going
to hug him in his excitement. Instead of hugging him, though, the young man
began straightening up. He hadn’t made much of a mess this time around. “Professor?”
“Hmm,”
Severus grunted.
“Can
I come back tomorrow?” Severus looked up at the sudden timidity in Potter’s
voice. The boy was fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve and looked very
uncertain. His face was pale, save for the light splash of color on his cheeks,
and his eyes had bags under them from lack of sleep. Why wasn’t the boy in bed,
anyway? As if sensing his question, Potter added, “I can’t sleep; bad dreams.”
Reluctantly,
Severus nodded. “Very well, Potter.”
“Harry.”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “My name is Harry. Potter is my father’s name.
I’m…I’m not him.” Yes, of that there was no doubt. This humble, obedient young
wizard was not James Potter.
Nodding
once, Severus amended, “Very well, Harry.” He was graced with one of the most
radiant smiles he had ever seen.
“Goodnight,
Professor,” Potter—no, Harry said and
then disappeared through the door, presumably to wander the halls and employ
some other method to avoid sleeping.
“The
directions are on the board. Get to work,” Severus snapped. Most of the class
began reading the instructions from the board. Harry and Granger were the
exceptions as they only had to look at the title to know what to do.
Miraculously, in the past two weeks, Harry had become the top student in the
class, and while the boy tried to give full credit to the book Severus had
given him, Severus knew better. Harry had potential.
Bringing
the materials back to his work station, Harry began to prepare the ingredients.
Longbottom looked both lost and helpless as his partner began adding and
stirring and mixing and monitoring. “Don’t look at me, Neville. Look at the
potion. Learn from this,” Harry told his flabbergasted classmate.
At
the end of class, only three pairs had managed to make a viable result: Harry
and Longbottom, Draco and Goyle, and Granger and Weasley (who had wormed his
way into the class in the same manner as Longbottom and Harry, though now Harry
most certainly belonged in the class).
“Bottle
your results and test them on your partners.” The Potion was designed to make
the drinker lose weight, ideally between five and ten pounds per dose. Weasley
lost twenty pounds, Goyle lost thirty, though whether or not he drank more than
one sip was undeterminable, and Longbottom lost seven pounds. He handed the
three students the antidote, reluctantly in the case of Goyle (the boy could
stand to lose a little weight). “Five points to Gryffindor for managing to brew
a perfect Weight-loss Potion. Class dismissed. Get out of my sight.”
Harry
approached him then. “Professor, I was wondering if you have some time now to
help me make Wolfsbane Potion. I thought it would be useful, considering…” he
trailed off hopefully.
Severus
nodded. “Certainly, Harry. Set up a cauldron. I must retrieve several ingredients
from my personal storeroom.” Harry dutifully set up the workspace and awaited
Severus’ return with the ingredients that weren’t in the classroom cupboard.
When Severus returned, the session went smoothly, Harry following the Potions
Master’s directions as precisely as he could. He made a major error in the
second phase and botched the whole thing, but Severus was still impressed.
Wolfsbane Potion was beyond the level of a sixth year student.
Harry
wasn’t quite so pleased with the results. “Can we try again?” he begged.
Severus
replied, “Maybe some other day. You’ve done enough for now.”
“But
I only got halfway through!” Harry protested in a pleading voice. “If I can’t
even make Wolfsbane Potion, how am I ever supposed to—” He cut himself off abruptly,
as though he had been about to reveal some grand secret plot. Severus narrowed
his eyes at the thought.
“Supposed
to what?” he prompted.
Harry
bit his lip. “Well, to be honest, I want to make…” He flushed. “Well, what I
mean is, that is to say…”
“For
Merlin’s sake spit it out already, boy!” Severus snapped, getting fed up with
his student’s antics.
Suddenly,
Harry looked up with a determined glint in his eyes. “One
more time, Professor. Please, I think I can do it this time,” he
insisted.
Severus
sighed in defeat. “Very well. Go down to my storeroom
and get some more supplies. I’ll be in my office grading papers. Come get me
when you reach the second phase.” He was rewarded with another of Harry’s
captivating ethereal smiles. Seven hours and five attempts later, Harry had
finally manufactured a perfect Wolfsbane Potion, which Severus bottled for
future use.
It
was almost a week before Harry came for help again, and Severus could honestly
admit to himself that he missed the younger wizard’s company. Seeing him in
class wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the same.
Then,
as if in answer to his secret prayer, “Professor, do you have time today?”
Severus
nodded coolly, not letting his delight show on his face. “What do you have in
mind this time?”
Harry
gave him a look he couldn’t decipher and said, “Actually, I was wondering if
you could test this for me.” He held up a phial of pearly pink liquid. Severus
scrunched his nose in disgust at the potion’s appearance and wordlessly sought
to identify it as he accepted the phial from his nervously waiting student. He
caught a whiff of the scent and felt nauseous—not because it smelled bad,
because it didn’t, but rather because he knew exactly what it was. It was
perfectly made, too. He didn’t need to taste it to know that much. The scent
made everything clear.
He
cast a covert glance at Harry out of the corner of his eye. The boy was
watching him anxiously. He looked like he was holding his breath in
anticipation. Severus really did not want to swallow a whole phial of the
world’s strongest love potion, but nor did he want all of Harry’s hard work to
go to waste. This potion was very tedious and difficult to make in ways similar
to Wolfsbane Potion only much more challenging. No wonder Harry had been so
insistent on getting the other potion correct before even attempting this one.
But why test it on him? Why not pour it in some pretty girl’s pumpkin juice?
Biting back a grimace, he downed the whole bottle.
In
his peripheral vision, he noticed Harry’s eyes flash with that same
indecipherable look from earlier, only this time he recognized it: desire.
“I
modified a love potion, incorporating an aphrodisiac and an Imperius potion in
the final product,” Harry explained huskily, his green eyes running hungrily
over Severus’ body and coming to rest at his professor’s growing erection. He
licked his lips. “If I brewed it correctly, you have to do whatever I tell you,
Sir. Shall we test it out?” Severus
was trying his best to glare at the younger wizard.
Harry
just smirked at him and cast a powerful locking charm on the door. “Take off
your clothes.” Against his will, Severus began unbuttoning his top. He slid the
fabric over his shoulders and watched it flutter uselessly to the ground. Next
went his trousers. “Underwear, too, Sir. Take everything off.” Soon enough,
Severus was standing in the middle of his classroom completely nude with his
once most loathed student devouring him with his hungry green eyes. There was a
telltale bulge in the boy’s pants, and Severus tried to look anywhere but at
that spot, but it seemed his body would not even grant him that small
consolation. “Come here, Professor.” Severus walked over to the desk by which
Harry was waiting, increasingly aware of the boy’s powerful hold over him.
Harry
began to run his hands up and down the sides of Severus’ chest and waist and
back. They gradually drifted down toward his buttocks and delivered to it a
nice, firm squeeze that evoked a surprised gasp. Harry’s body was pressed
against his now, lazily grinding their hips together to create a delightful
friction. A little voice in the back of Severus’ mind was screaming at him to
stop, telling him that this was wrong, but it soon faded from existence with
Harry’s next words.
“Gods,
I’ve wanted this for so long,” he moaned into Severus’ ear, wrapping his arms
around the man and pulling their bodies impossibly closer. The fabric of
Harry’s robes was rough against his heated skin.
Harry
kissed Severus’ face, his lips, his neck, his shoulder. He fingered Severus’
nipples. Severus arched his body into Harry’s touch. The aphrodisiac had erased
all rational thoughts from his mind and replaced them with intense,
unadulterated desire. When lips replaced Harry’s hands and a tongue ran across
the pert nipple in slow, wanton strokes, like a cat lapping at milk, he let out
a groan and twisted his fingers into Harry’s black locks, pulling his head
closer. Only then did he realize that he had somehow climbed onto his desk and
pulled the boy on top of him, and that talented tongue was traveling downward
now, down past his bellybutton toward the dark curls surrounding his weeping
erection.
When
Harry took him into his hot, wet mouth, swirling his tongue deftly along the
underside of his cock, he almost came then and there. How did the boy become so
talented with his tongue? Harry opened his throat to take him in completely and
began bobbing at the same lazy pace as he had been moving since this whole
ordeal began, and it was simply not fast enough!
Severus
began thrusting into Harry’s mouth, resetting the pace, and the boy complied
with the same meek obedience he had used when following Severus’ Potions
instructions. Every now and then, the boy would whimper at a particularly rough
thrust. The sound was music to Severus’ ears, though it went straight to his
cock, and he came hard in Harry’s waiting mouth. Harry drank up every drop and
then licked him clean.
“Stand
up,” Harry commanded huskily, his voice hoarse from their recent activities and
from sheer lust. Severus slowly obeyed, the potion coercing his muscles into
submission. He climbed off the desk, eyes trained on Harry the whole time. What
was the boy up to now?
Harry
began stripping himself. His face was flushed and he looked ridiculously
uncertain of himself suddenly. He threw off his robes, toed off his shoes, left
his socks, slipped out of his too big trousers and boxers, and began
unbuttoning his shirt bottom to top. He left the shirt on, hanging open to show
off his slender, toned chest. His eyes never once left Severus’ face. At last
threw his tie down with an air of finality. He was ready to continue this
little game of his, whatever this game actually entailed.
He
approached Severus once more, his neglected cock twitching in anticipation of
the things he had planned. He pressed himself flush against his professor,
wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist and burying his face in his
chest. “Hold me,” he commanded. Severus’ arms didn’t require the potion’s magic
to obey that command. Harry snuggled into his chest a little more and then
kissed a moist trail up to Severus’ ear. He nibbled on the lobe and, rubbing
his erection against Severus’ half-hard cock, whimpered, “Fuck me raw, Sir.”
Severus
groaned loudly at the mandate and eagerly set about bringing it to fruition. He
kissed the boy forcefully, tasting every inch of that wonderful, talented mouth
that had just moments ago brought him to completion. He pressed Harry against
the nearby wall, using that to pin the boy in place, and began to devour his
exposed neck. Harry moaned eagerly and wrapped his legs around Severus.
The
Potions master considered leaving momentarily to get some lubrication, but
Harry ground their hips together demandingly. “Just take me,” the flushed boy
pleaded. When Severus complied with reluctance, Harry opened his mouth
invitingly. Severus removed a hand from Harry’s hip to place his middle and
forefinger in the younger wizard’s mouth. Harry sucked dutifully, coating them
with his saliva and looking so utterly fuckable in the process, a feat which
Severus both admired and enjoyed.
Removing
the digits from Harry’s mouth with a soft suction sound, he began to finger
Harry’s tight entrance. He eased in one finger, stretching the warm flesh
within, and then the second finger joined the first. His fingers brushed over
that special place inside the boy, and Harry cried out, clinging to him almost
fiercely and panting heavily from the overwhelming and unexpected sensation.
When he felt that Harry was adequately prepared, he eased his fingers out, earning
a disappointed whimper. The whimper turned into a moan halfway through, though,
when Severus’ now hard erection rubbed against his entrance. Harry tightened
his legs around Severus’ waist, encouraging him.
Severus
slowly forced the tip past the tight ring of muscle, his eyes trained on
Harry’s face. Inch by inch, he eased himself inside the boy. Harry bit his lip
in an attempt to hide the pain he was feeling. Severus captured the teen’s
swollen lips in a tender kiss and pushed himself the rest of the way in. Harry,
despite the pain he was obviously feeling, tightened his grip in the Potions
master and moved his hips encouragingly.
Severus
took a moment to look down at the boy. His hair was damp with sweat and was
sticking to his flushed face. His glasses were askew, giving Severus a clearer
view of his green eyes, which were dark and hazed over with lust, his
kiss-bruised lips were parted and he was panting softly, his pink tongue
peaking out with each exhalation. “More, Sir, please…” He rocked his hips and
squirmed on Severus’ erection, inadvertently nudging the tip against his
prostate. He cried out and then bit his lip to stifle the sound. “Move,” he
moaned wildly, and Severus was more than happy to obey.
Pulling
out almost all the way, Severus set a harsh pace that Harry, lost in the
unfamiliar sensation, matched with erratic thrusts of his own, moaning and
whimpering and calling Severus’ name over and over. As he came closer to
completion, his thrusts became rougher and faster and more desperate. Harry was
stroking himself in time with their thrusts, and Severus wrapped his larger
hand around Harry’s, pumping the boy furiously. His touch sent Harry over the
edge, and the younger wizard came screaming Severus’ name, spurting all over
their stomachs. Severus managed a few more thrusts before reaching his own
orgasm.
As
he drifted down from his high, he became aware of the fact that he had just
fucked his underage student against the stone wall of his classroom and he
didn’t even care. Harry was still pinned against said wall, panting heavily,
with his legs still wrapped around Severus’ hips. Severus was still buried
inside of Harry, and upon realizing this he pulled out carefully, groaning at
the feel of flesh against his hypersensitive spent prick.
“Oh
gods,” Harry moaned softly to himself. He wrapped his arms wrapped around
Severus’ neck and his was once again buried in Severus’ chest, though he kept
his legs firmly wrapped around the man’s waist. He was panting heavily.
Severus, too, was still trying to catch his breath and reestablish his bearings
after that mind-blowing orgasm, the likes of which he had never experienced
before in his life.
Harry
whimpered suddenly. “Oh Merlin, don’t hate me.” The sudden plea caught Severus
off guard. He pulled back to look into emerald eyes brimming with tears. Harry
was staring at him with such a desperate look that it almost broke Severus’
heart. “Don’t hate me, Sir. Please don’t hate me,” the boy murmured shakily.
“Why
would I hate you, Harry?” Severus asked gently, cupping the younger wizard’s
face with one of his palms while using the other to steady them. Harry had yet
to put his feet back on the ground, as if the moment he did so would mean it
was all over.
Harry
let out a choked sob. “I f-forced you to have sex with me. I took advantage of
you. I used you; just because I desired you, I used you…” He was crying openly now, tears spilling onto his cheeks
and Severus’ hand on his face. “I’m so sorry, Sir. Forgive me.” It was true;
Harry had used him without considering how he might feel about it. He had
selfishly taken what he wanted without thinking about anyone but himself. And
yet…
“Harry,
look at me,” Severus whispered, coaxing the boy’s face upward. Harry stared
uncertainly into his eyes. The boy’s mouth moved, but no sounds came out.
“Harry, how much boomslang did you put in?”
Harry
gave him an incredulous look at the outrageous question but nevertheless
answered, “Two ounces, Sir.”
Severus
let out a breath of relief and kissed the confused wizard’s scarred forehead.
“That was only enough for ten minutes, Harry. It wore off long ago. I did what
I wanted and nothing more.” Harry’s head shot up and green eyes searched his
for so much as a hint of untruth. Finding none, Harry let out a sound that was
halfway between a laugh and a sob and hugged his professor ardently. The feet
finally touched the floor. Severus returned the boy’s embrace and rubbed his
bare back soothingly.
“It’sbecauseIlikeyou,” Harry murmured quickly into Severus’
chest.
“What?”
the Potions master said, feeling baffled.
“I
did it because I…I really like you, Sir,” Harry repeated, looking back up at
Severus’ face. “I want to be with you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to
Severus’ in a tender, chaste kiss that did not reflect any of his earlier
passion. Severus tensed and didn’t return the kiss, too shocked was by the
sudden confession to respond. Harry pulled away from Severus with a look of
disappointment and hurt on his face. He stepped unevenly toward his abandoned
clothes.
“Thank
you for this encounter, Professor Snape. It meant a lot to me. I’ll always
cherish the memory.” He gathered his clothes to his chest awkwardly, keeping
his back to Severus, and began to get dressed. Severus watched silently, not sure
what he was supposed to do, not sure what he wanted to do, and before he had a
chance to figure it out Harry had vanished. He had missed his chance.
The
remainder of the year flew by without incident and without communication.
Severus tried to treat Harry as he had before, but the boy made a point of
ignoring his existence. It hurt; it hurt worse than anything he had suffered
because of Voldemort. It hurt not his body but his heart, something he thought
had died a long time ago. In hindsight, he realized that the only times he had
felt anything good or bad of any significance had been when he was with Harry.
For the passed six years, his mood, his words, his deeds, his focus, his very
life all had revolved around Harry Potter.
It
was a couple months before Severus could admit to himself that he loved the
boy, loved him with a heart that would be dead without his presence. When he
came to this revelation, he became afraid of losing the boy forever. He would
be finishing his N.E.W.T. class in mere weeks and moving on with his life. And
Severus would be left alone to die to any hope that his heart still carried
within its hardened exterior. And Harry would never know; he wouldn’t know, but
he wouldn’t care, either. He would grow up, get married to some beautiful
witch, have several children, and life happily ever after.
It
was because of that idea that Severus was so surprised to enter his classroom
one evening to find Harry leaning against a windowsill, peering out with dull,
melancholy eyes into a world entirely his own. He snapped to attention when
Severus closed the door quietly behind him. He smiled at the Potions master. It
was a lifeless, empty smile of a person with a broken heart.
“What
are you doing here, Potter?” Severus wanted to curse himself for sounding so
cold to the boy. Harry just smiled sadly at him. It was a minor blow compared
to the one he had dealt with his unresponsiveness during their previous
meeting. “I’m busy.”
“I
wanted to see you, Sir,” Harry said, unfazed. “Don’t let me interrupt. If you
have business, I understand. I’ll wait until you’re finished.”
Severus
sighed. “Harry, why are you here?”
Harry
just smiled wider. “I told you: I wanted to see you.”
“And
you have seen me,” Severus replied. “What now?”
Harry
gave him a blank look. “What now?” he repeated. “What do you mean? I can be
with you now.”
“And
what happens when this year is over? And when you leave Hogwarts?” Severus said
with poorly masked bitterness.
Harry
blinked at the embittered tone. “Leave Hogwarts? Why would I do a thing like
that?” he asked, as if the idea of leaving this school was beyond
comprehension. It probably was. This was his home, after all, his beloved
Hogwarts. Severus understood that feeling well enough. “I’ll never leave
Hogwarts. Not forever, anyways. I couldn’t. I can’t imagine life without it.”
Life without you; Severus heard the unspoken words loud and clear.
“Harry,
you’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t tie yourself to
someone like me.”
“Too
late,” Harry murmured. He began to take slow, deliberate steps toward Severus.
“You don’t get it, do you? I’ve given you my heart. I’m not going to just stop
loving you. I’m not going to change my mind. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never
leave you. I’ll love you forever.”
“Harry,
don’t do this—”
“Please,
just let me love you, Severus,” Harry pleaded, reaching up to touch the man’s
cheek. He rose to the balls of his feet and touched their lips together
tentatively, tenderly, lovingly. Severus wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
He instantly returned the kiss, licking Harry’s bottom lip and wrapping his
arms around the boy’s slender frame. Harry’s hands wrapped around his neck and
his lips tilted upward into an elated smile and parted welcomingly. Their
tongues mingled unhurriedly until the body’s demand for oxygen became too
great. They parted slowly, their breaths mingling as they smiled at each other.
Severus
kissed Harry’s lips and murmured, “I love you.” He could feel the shiver of joy
that traveled through Harry at those words. Harry began giving him short,
saccharine kisses, laughing jubilantly all the while, and his green eyes glowed
with a fierce passion that superceded anything Severus had ever witnessed in
the younger wizard. It was the look of a person blissfully and inescapably in
love, and when he peered into those vivid green eyes, he saw the same
expression on his own face reflected back at him.
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