Elevated New Year's

by moroe-creek

It’s one thing to make plans, but a completely different thing to keep them. Then again, when it seemed as if things weren’t working out for Harry’s New Year’s plans, things suddenly took a different turn with the man on the elevator.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters from the Harry Potter universe. Nor do I make any profit from it. Everything belongs to the lovely J.K Rowling, and this is purely for entertainment.

"Elevated New Year's"

By Moroe Creek

Christmas had been a disaster this year for Harry. He had gone to the Weasley's Christmas dinner for their annual gathering of family and friends, as he did every year. He had smiled pleasantly when he was sat down next to the ever guarded Mad Eye Moody, who was the only other person that was single at the table besides him. Everyone else was married or had brought a date.

His own fault, really, for convincing Ron the year before to finally confess his feelings to Hermione. If he hadn't opened his big gob and hadn't encouraged his friend to ask out the overly bookish girl, then he would have been seated right between them, ignoring the furtive glances thrown between the two through out the meal while actually enjoying himself. Instead, he had been stuck sitting a few places down from them, over towards the end of the table with the only other hopeless case beside him and with those that were too young to even be thinking about dating, let alone liking a boy or girl. It was pathetic.

He could have brought a date with him. Really, he could have. The problem wasn't the lack of willing company though, for there seemed to always be someone lurking around him hoping for a date. It was rather that he wasn't the sort of person to simply obtain a date for dinners and get-togethers, only for the mere purpose of not looking as forlorn as he felt. That would be more meaningless than he would like. It just wasn't for him, and frankly, there was no one that he was interested in at the moment, so why even bother looking for someone who could cling to his side for a night just to give off the right affect for proprieties sake? Not worth it at all, even if people did ask about why he was always alone. He'd rather endure an assortment of unwanted questions concerning his lack of a love life, than to have to hear about any "romances" between him and someone who he'd been seen with once. He'd had enough of that.

So, after that dreadful experience at the Weasley's, he'd decided to just busy himself with the work at the office that no one else wanted to do during the holidays, hoping to keep his mind off how lonely he was for the remaining festive days before work officially started again. It wouldn't be much of a change anyway to how he spent his New Years.

He'd always hated New Year's, and simply despised it more than ever this year, not to mention that he could never keep his resolutions. The day was an awful reminder that he had no one by his side for another year of his life, and that thought alone was beginning to tire him.

What he needed was a good snog this New Year's night. That would certainly lift his spirits. Anytime he'd had an opportunity to kiss someone had always been quite nice, especially during the days in which a person was the loneliest. It was something he'd settle for this year, a kiss, since he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good one—let alone a decent shag; that was another thing he certainly didn't want to think about. God, how long had it been since he'd been naked in a room with another person? Too long it seemed. Again, he would just have to settle, so this year would have to be different if he even wanted a New Year's snog—his first New Year's snog from what he could remember.

He'd always spent the day alone, at work, or with Ron and Hermione, but he thought it'd be rather nice to leave them be for their first holidays as a couple, even if they had already invited him to spend the rest of the year with them. He'd declined and said he had other plans. He'd only felt the slightest bit of guilt at seeing their happy smiles when he'd answered that, as they were most likely thinking he had a date.

If he had to—no matter where he was or who was there—he was just going to have to grab the nearest person in the vicinity when the clock struck midnight and have himself a kiss. It was somewhat desperate, completely stupid, and not to mention fell slightly under the category of sexual harassment, but the more he thought about it and tried to convince himself on how it wasn't the worst idea imaginable that he had ever come up with, the more it grew on him and the less he thought about the consequences. He just had to break the cycle this year.

He had been getting ready for work on New Years Eve when he'd thought out his plan. Convinced that he'd go through with it, he set an alarm on his wrist watch to be ready. It would go off at exactly twelve that night, hopefully signaling the beginning of a good year and his first midnight holiday kiss.

He had decided to go in early to the office and get through with as much of his own work as possible that had been piling up. Then he could just head out early and immediately Apparate straight to his flat to have himself a quick shower and new change of clothes.

When ready, he would then go out in search of a club and try to intermingle as well as he could. He didn't much enjoy going to night clubs, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He'd make sure to sidle up next to the nearest good looking person he could find when it got close to the hour, and then he'd finally get his kiss. As an explanation, should he need one for his peculiar actions, would be that he'd consumed a little too much alcohol. Besides, the more he thought about it the more he figured that he wouldn't be the only one doing the same thing. That was a thought that kept him feeling positive.

It was a good plan.

It was 11:55 PM and Harry was just barely waiting for the elevator lift to open its doors so that he could take it down. It was his horrible luck that he was on one of the top floors, which meant that the ride down would take at least up to five minutes to reach the first floor, and that was without any stops. For an elevator run by magic, it certainly wasn't very quick in the least.

He could have saved himself some time if he could only just Apparate out from where he stood, but unfortunately it was prohibited by the Ministry to do so in the building, as ridiculous as that was, even if it did make sense; he didn't think it would be the safest thing in the world if everyone was just popping in and out at any given second. Still, he was in no mood to see reason this time.

He sighed in resignation of spending another holiday on his own as he looked at his watch again. 'Why bother now?' he thought to himself, thinking about how pointless it would be to even think about trying to save the night before it was too late, as it already was.

If only he hadn't come into work and had stayed home like most everyone else had, then he wouldn't have been spotted by his boss as he'd been about to leave three hours earlier; he had been told in a pleasant tone by his superior to take care of the rest of the work that had been backed up since the last couple of days due to the holidays. Being the nice moron that he was, he had agreed to get the work down without even bothering to argue it since he was there already.

When he asked himself why he had ever thought that coming to work would be a good idea, he couldn't find a good answer, only that he just had wanted to keep himself busy. That had been the wrong thing to do, apparently.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was an obvious pushover, he could have been in some dark night club with a drink in one hand, and a firm and sexy guy's ass in the other. But no, he had to always be the good guy. Did he really care about his own reputation so much that he didn't dare break the Golden Boy image that everyone had of him by denying people what they asked of him? No, that wasn't it; he had done things in the past that had effectively resulted in splattering his name time and again on the Daily Prophet's front page. He had been called reckless in one particular article, but the slight did nothing to hurt his self-esteem—he'd been called worse things in the past by that tabloid rag.

He smiled slightly as he remembered the incident that had caused that article to be written. His birthday party certainly had started off with a bang, so it was expected to conclude in much the same way by the end of the night. As he recalled further that day, the face of the guy he'd slept with came to view in his mind's eye. A frown then graced his brow as he couldn't remember any other shag after that—with, or without that blonde bloke. He needed a life.

Which was why his plan had been for him to be having fun by the end of the night, but that wasn't going to happen now. It was his fault. It always was.

But, then again, it didn't have to be that way. After all, there was still a few minutes left until midnight. A glance at his watch told him that there was around 3 minutes left. Maybe he could find someone along the way home, or even in the elevator, if it ever bothered to hurry it up and open.

'No, it shouldn't all have to be completely hopeless,' he thought.

So with a look of newfound purpose set on his face, he waited for the elevator doors to open, and only seconds later he heard the ding. As a last and hopeful thought of salvaging a lousy day, he wondered if maybe a good looking person wasn't waiting inside the lift for him now.

As the doors slid open his determination and bravery he'd felt only moments before, faltered at the sight before him. The disappointment must have shown clear on his face as he stared into the two narrowed eyes before him that belonged to the sallow faced and tall man that stood in the corner of the otherwise empty lift.

"Professor Snape," he managed to choke out in greeting, as he carefully moved into the elevator and over to the opposite corner away from the man after pressing the first floor button. When the man said nothing right away, he was suddenly reminded of the time he had been scolded by his former head of house, Minerva McGonagall, for calling her Professor right after he'd graduated from Hogwarts. She had said that he was an adult and that he had no business whatsoever addressing her in such a formal manner and that Minerva would suffice.

Yes, he remembered that very well, as his former Potions Professor and work colleague, made no point in correcting him on how he generally addressed the older man. It would certainly be a cold day in hell the day that Snape ever asked him to call him Severus. Not that he would want to, of course.

His attention was brought back to the older man as he heard him speak.

"Mr. Potter. What, if I may ask, are you doing here at the Ministry at such a late hour, and on such an important date as this?" The sneer was clear, though Harry was sure that it was directed more towards the man's obvious hate for festive days, rather than his continual dislike of him.

'He probably loathes the fact that people are dumb enough to celebrate a new year, which he's probably right, but still . . . probably hates all Holidays as well,' he thought to himself before the man continued.

"Shouldn't you be elsewhere, signing autographs for your ever adoring fans, or perhaps at some get together, intoxicating yourself with a little too much alcohol? Promiscuity, debauchery and all of which the youth of today indulge in?"

Reminding himself to be polite as he took a deep breath, Harry kept his voice as bland as he could manage. "No, I've been here doing my job, seeing as how everyone else has decided to stay away from the office at all costs for today. I suppose that everyone would prefer to take advantage of the break, and I'm just one of the very few to not care." That had been polite, though only part true, but that didn't seem to matter to the other man as he grunted in response and turned his scowl back to the elevator doors. The man was still someone who could get under his skin and rattle his nerves, making him blow his top with a simple comment. It didn't matter that everything had been cleared up after the war, or that they both worked at the Ministry now, Snape only on occasion when lending his services was of the most importance, otherwise keeping to his teaching position at the school. Thankfully, not very often did the man go to the Ministry otherwise they would be running into each other like this more often. That was a horrible thought.

As frustrating as the man could be, that was not the most important thing at the moment that was occupying Harry's thoughts, but rather his real problem of the fact that it didn't look as if he was going to have his kiss. With Snape as his only companion to bring in the New Year, Harry was certain that it was truly an omen of another lonely year to come, as his luck seemed to be on hiatus. Why did Snape have to be the only other person working that day—and probably all week; the man never took a break

He looked over at the gloomy figure and then took a glance at his watch. He wasn't going to make it out in time it seemed, and he wasn't going to get his kiss because certainly Severus Snape was not the good looking person he was hoping for, far from it really.

Or was he?

With another glimpse at the man beside him, he thought back to how he had always seen him as his greasy, hooked nose, and extremely sour, Professor. But now, if he looked closely enough, he could actually see something attractive in the man's hard and stern features. It was either that or he really was becoming quite desperate.

His former Professor still wore the usual black garb, complete with the ever billowy robes he was so accustomed to seeing him in. Yet even through all of that he could see that underneath the layers of cloth the man was actually in good shape. While it had certainly been the first time he'd ever allowed such thoughts to invade his mind, it wasn't the first time he'd heard of similar thoughts coming from someone else.

Although he had never been the one to say anything nice about him, surprisingly enough it had been Hermione who'd gone on about the man's "good qualities" while in their last year at school. She hadn't mentioned it to him or Ron—she knew better than that—but had been in the middle of agreeing with a group of other girls that the man's mysterious and snarky ways were more than just a little appealing. He had been overhearing without meaning to that time, and had simply wrinkled his nose in disgust before dismissing it completely, not even bothering to tell Ron about it for fear of his friend blowing his red top.

He hadn't thought about that incident again until now, and that one dream he'd had about a year ago meant absolutely nothing to him at the time, but roaming his eyes as casually and appreciatively as he could over the figure, he began to understand what those girls had meant.

The man wasn't that bad, he wasn't that good either, but the truth of the matter was that things had changed between them over the years. The times he had run into him during assignments and the occasional functions, there had been little to no sharp words or pointless arguments between them. In fact, if he thought about it, Harry could swear that the man purposely avoided confrontations between them, always leaving when Harry was arriving. He supposed the man only wanted to pay him back for saving his life from Voldemorts clutches during the final battle. Though, Harry wasn't looking for a payment from the other man for doing the right thing.

Still, this was Snape, and Snape was not one to let anything go, whether good or bad. He most likely felt that he was still in debt to him. If that were so, then maybe . . . his plan could still be set in motion, perhaps?

Harry pulled his gaze away from where it had been wandering around towards the back of the robes where he could just barely make out the slight outlined curve of the man's rear, as thoughts of his plan for the night resurfaced in his head.

Of course he couldn't do it because this was Snape of all people! The man would just curse him on the spot. That or he'd let him walk away in one piece while leaving him with a paranoia that would have him being careful of everything he drank and ate for the rest of his life. Living with fear of ingesting a potion that would kill him, or do possibly worse things that he'd rather not think about, would not do. After all, Snape could be very creative at times with his victims.

If his earlier plan wasn't the stupidest plan ever known to man, then this was the stupidest thing to have ever crossed a persons mind.

'Really though, what could he do? Hate you more than he does now?' While that thought wasn't any worse than the way things were already, he still wasn't sure.

Another glance at his watch told him that he had exactly one minutes before midnight and about two before the elevator would reach the first floor, where apparently Snape was headed to as well.

It was now or never to make up his mind. The bad side to going through with it was, of course, Snape murdering him right then and there, or at the very least sometime in the near future. The good side was that it would hopefully be his last New Year's of going by un-kissed, while also quenching his desire to know what the man tasted like now that he was beginning to wonder.

There probably were better choices than Snape to do this with, but as it was, there really wasn't much time left to decide. He only had thirty seconds before his alarm would go off.

He was beginning to shift from one foot to the other, a sign of how nervous he was, when he finally made his choice. He was going to do it. The countdown was drawing closer to twelve o'clock and his resolve was weak, but, it was there.

There was twenty five seconds left. Twenty seconds. Fifteen seconds. Ten seconds . . . and it kept getting closer and closer.

Five seconds . . . he would do it . . . four seconds . . . maybe . . . three seconds . . . he had to . . . two seconds . . . he wouldn't back out . . . one second . . . he couldn't . . . midnight . . .

"Uh." His alarm and his voice broke the silence as he tried to find an opening to his plan. It seemed that he hadn't actually thought about how exactly it was that he would go about it, but had focused more on actually making a decision. So, swallowing his fear and thinking of all those times he had simply acted without thinking things through properly, and how well most of those times had turned out, he stepped up to the taller man and leaned his face up where he planted a chaste kiss on the man's thin lips.

Quickly pulling back after only a few seconds, not really taking any time to savor or taste, he moved back over to his own corner where he kept his gaze to the ground, trying to act as if he hadn't just kissed Snape in an elevator lift.

However, while he was successfully doing his best to ignore what he had just done, the other man could not.

The feeling of the eyes that bore into the side of his head was what had him looking up against his own better judgment, as he reminded himself not to flinch.

He met the blank expression with one of his own as he waited for the bomb to drop. He waited a little longer and continued to hold his breath even as nothing was said by either of them, which wasn't very surprising coming from his part, but was more than a little shocking coming from Snape. It was a reaction—or lack of rather—that made him feel rather awkward, as that wasn't something he had ever come to witness in all his time knowing this particular person. Then again, what he had just done was probably more to do with it than Snape actually not having a response. He didn't know if this was even the sort of reaction that Snape would give in a situation like this, as unlikely a chance that someone had ever been stupid enough to have done such a thing like this before actually was. Of course, had it been anyone else, Harry was sure that something would have happened by now, but seeing as it was him who'd gone through with it, and what with all the history there was between them, Snape was probably prolonging the actual torture just to make him squirm. '

Who knows?' was Harry's only thought as his brain seemed unable to fully process the problem he was now facing, as the other man was suddenly moving forward.

He stared in shocked mystification as the other man neared towards him without even brandishing his wand, or even wearing his trademark sneer. Gulping loudly as he backed up all the way until he was pressed against the wall, the man moved closer and stood looming over him, leaving only the smallest of empty space between them. His breath then caught as the man spoke, expecting only the worst.

"Potter, what do you call that?" he said in a velvet, deep voice that had Harry pushing himself further back into the wall in vain, praying for the ride to finish already. He ignored the thoughts that began with the word 'Sexy' and the one's that ended with 'bedroom voice'. Now was not the time.

The air suddenly seemed to be thicker—suddenly more stifling—as he found it harder and harder to breathe normally. It didn't help having the man as close to him as he was—while continuing to move in even closer still, so it was no wonder why he was having a hard time trying to come up with an answer. He only hoped that the man could understand his problem.

The feeling of warm breath against his face, which held the scent of sugared, and the heat coming off the hard body in front of him that hit him in waves, was beginning to have its effects on him.

"Well?" The calm voice asked again, sounding as expectant as it ever had in Potions class when the man waited for an answer by one of his more dimwitted students—a tone that had been directed more than once at him. "Mr. Potter, I am waiting."

"Well, that was a . . . New Years kiss?" He offered in a quiet voice as he felt somewhat more confident at the fact that his voice barely held a tremor, if any, even though he'd never felt more the fool in his entire life.

"You call that a New Years kiss?" The sleek voice asked as the body that belonged to it moved closer once more, this time leaving no space between them other than the scant inches between their lips as the dark head bent lower.

"Yes?" This time, unfortunately, his voice did shake a little, and worse than that there was a slight squeak to it, one he'd hoped he'd lost completely when his years of puberty had finally ended. The growing smirk on Snape's face had him feeling some bit of indignation on his part over the fact that the man was obviously laughing at him for his unease. Funnily enough, it also made some of the apprehension dissipate. He didn't think he would be cursed or killed anymore, but the sudden thought of years to come of never ending taunts did little to make him feel any better.

He wanted to say something to rectify his actions but could find no voice or words to save his hide this time. Lying was not the best of ideas, as he knew very well that this man was better at seeing through them than even Dumbledore at times could. There was the truth; well, that just wasn't an option as it was far too ridiculous for him to ever want to speak of, and yet, what other option did he have?

After a moment of standing and staring, and then a whirlwind of different thoughts and emotions as the man suddenly wrapped his arms around him and brought him in close for the best kiss he had ever experienced in his life, it seemed that he suddenly did have a lot of options. He had the option to kiss back just as passionately or pull away, and after choosing to stay in the man's strong hold, he then had the option to wrap his own arms around the man's neck or 'round his shoulders. That first one seemed to work best as he tangled his fingers in what he'd always thought was greasy, stringy hair and happily finding it to be soft and silky. He then had the option to take matters into his own hands and lead, or to simply follow.

Harry had always hated having to be a leader, especially when it wasn't his own choice; he'd hated it when he'd been in school and all of his housemates looked to him for answers, or when he'd started the DA and had been expected to be the head of the group. Of course, there was the war when he'd had to fulfill the expectations of everyone around him and lead the Wizarding World into victory, something he had done by what he still believed to have been due to sheer luck and the help of his friends, the one's he knew were the real heroes.

But this—this was one of those times that he was willing to give the reigns over to someone else. The fact that it was Severus Snape didn't seem to bother him all that much as he let the man explore inside his mouth and along his neck with his tongue and teeth.

The moment was one of the most drawn out moments he could ever remember having that wasn't full of pain or agony, but was all delicious desire as shivers ran through him.

Winding his arms tighter still, he pushed himself as close as he could to the body that belonged to the one man he'd once thought he'd hated more than anyone else, even more than Voldemort at times. It was funny that it would come to this.

As his tongue suddenly made its way out of his own mouth and into the others, loving everything he could find and taste through his own exploration, he had a sudden flash of understanding of all those times he'd come across Snape and had thought that things were different somehow between them. It was bizarre the way he could now suddenly see that those biting words traded between them so many times were just ways to keep away any small chance of becoming closer. The reasons why they'd make sure to never be anywhere near each other when in the same room was just a tactic in which to keep away from figuring out something that would mean a lot of problems should things become emotional—something he was sure was not an easy thing to get used to for either of them.

While those thoughts did seem to feel accurate enough, he supposed he'd just have to wait and find out how right they really were, later. Meaning that he'd have to ask Sna—Severus, he corrected to himself—about it. He idly wondered how the hell he planned to have that conversation with this man, seeing as how he wasn't sure on what exactly was going to happen when they pulled apart. Would this just be it, all that they could ever share, or could there be something else?

Suddenly, the lift rattled to a stop and by the ending note of the ding signaling the doors, Severus had already pulled away from the kiss, panting breath blowing at his fringe. He was staring with heavy lidded eyes down at his face, which Harry knew must have been flushed pink, while his eyes stared back in a daze, a thought which only made him cringe slightly on the inside as it had definitely not been part of the plan for him to be the one reduced to the panting ball of mush that he was now, but the other way around. After all, he was a marvelous seducer all on his own when it came to his past lovers, but maybe that was just it; Severus was an older man, who most likely had a bit more experience with this sort of thing than he, which was why he was willing to forgive the man for turning the tables on him like that. He wouldn't mind learning a few lessons from his ex professor again if it was sure to be a subject that he was willing to improve on. That thought he'd also reserve for later thinking.

While he knew that he'd have to think about those things a little more carefully later on, now was not the time to do so as he shuddered at the voice beside his ear, the one that managed to bring back his blush full force and make him groan with the promise of more to come by the simple utterance of those four words it spoke:

"Come home with me."

It wasn't a question, and the tone in which it had been spoken made it sound more than just a statement, but rather a command, one which he was willing to obey.

He never saw himself being the one led away when he had thought up his plan, but had hoped to at least fulfill his one wish of sharing an intimate moment by the start of the New Year, and that was exactly what he had done.

Now all he needed to do was come up with a New Years resolution, one that he would be sure to stick to, unlike his others in the past. While he thought of how nice it would be to strive for a relationship with someone in order to fall in love, he couldn't help but grin as he was pulled close to that warm body once more, ready to Apparate together as they stood outside of the Ministry, with the thought that he was already working on it invading his mind.

End