Title: Harry
Chapter: Monster
Rating: M
Warnings: Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, basically. AU, OOC/Harry. I think warnings can sometimes ruin the story, so I won't post them all but if you really want to know just private message me or review.
Pairing: Harry/Severus
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters and I promise, I'm not making money off of this...wish I could, though! Oh, and I'm not Shakespeare, though I like to pretend sometimes.
Credit: The plot for this story was the brain child of fanfiction author G0tik4.
NB: Please don't hesitate to give constructive criticism or be in contact with me to ask questions and things like that. That's probably one of the best things about writing fanfic. Also, this is my first Snape/Harry story.
Summary: Hogwarts is a prestigious college for boys in a non-magical world, and Harry runs things. When the new biology professor becomes a nuisance, Harry comes up with plan to get rid of him. Who else will go down with him?
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk to hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty I do question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
Sonnet XII, William Shakespeare.
"Harry."
It was the way they all did that, the way they said his name, that called up a madness he only knew in moments like these. The way they could twist that godforsaken name to make it sound exhausted, disgusted, hopeful, and pleading all at once. As if to say please stop being such a burden, as if to say wake up. And that was when the monster surfaced. He could trace these sittings across his pockmarked life and connect them, like craters in the dusty face of the moon.
He threw an apple up, up, into the arms of the air and hoped that he caught it with ease and- ah, yes, he does. The fluorescent lights reflected off its shining green skin.
"Are you listening?" she asked. She glanced behind her to the man she had come with.
"Yes," he responds, blinking once and smiling so sickly sweet.
"How is Hogwarts treating you?"
Harry's sugary smile stuck like he thought it might and he looked to the side. "It's absolutely sublime. But I'm curious, why are you asking?" He turned back to face her. He glanced down at the name on her visitor's badge, neatly printed. "Hermione? It's not like you care, really."
Hermione seemed unused to this treatment. She's new. Brilliant.
"The- they sent me as a substitute. Audrey wasn't available to come in to check on you-"
"I'm grateful for that at least, she's a bitch." Harry's smile morphed into a smirk. "But you seem sweet."
That caught her off guard. Perfect.
"So I'm not going to give you a hard time. Just tell Audrey that everything is fine, and that I'm not a baby, so I don't need looking after every half hour. I'm not on drugs, I'm not selling drugs, and I'm not an alcoholic." His anger simmered dangerously beneath his smile, and he hoped Hermione could feel its heat. "And next time you come around here, just skip the stupid questions, because you're wasting your breath." He paused. "Don't become one of them, Hermione."
"What are you talking about?" She asked, her eyes widening slightly and her brow furrowed.
Harry pursed his lips. "Never mind. Just tell Audrey to fuck off."
"Well..." Hermione appeared to be summoning up all of her bravery. "It's just that considering your past...we're social workers, you know, we only have the best intentions."
Harry's brow creased and he tilted his head sideways. Fear flit in and out of her eyes, and he loved it, tasted it.
"And what, Hermione, do you presume to know about my past?"
"Just-um," she stuttered.
"Poor orphan boy Harry, poor abused Harry, oh, he must be so troubled," he mocked. "But what you read in my file isn't who I am. So, don't," he glared, "don't you dare assume you know me because you read my file. It means nothing. Do you understand that?"
She nodded, not looking at him. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, and something deep in him moved.
"Good," he said, grabbing his rucksack, and taking a bite out of his apple. The man sitting behind her watched his lips and his mouth sucking at the fruit. He turned and left, amused
They shivered like ants when he passed, he could feel it. Their eyes turned sideways as they tried to casually continue their conversations, but they didn't dare to make eye contact. They feared him, they loved him. Beauty makes any crime forgivable.
He made his way into the courtyard and fell gracefully onto the grass near his gang.
Draco, who was just laughing at something, looked at Harry, his smile taming. "Nice of you to join us. Where have you been?" He seemed paler than usual in the sunlight.
"None of your business," Harry said, smiling back, but meaning it. "So, what's new?" He let his gaze linger on Theo, who was staring blindly at him.
"Apparently there's a new biology teacher. Hear he's a pain in the arse," said Blaise, laying languidly along the grass.
"We'll beat it out of him," Harry said only half joking, and they all sniggered a bit.
"What are we doing tonight?" Blaise said, taking out a cigarette from a silver carrier and lighting it.
"We just got to school," Theo said in a low voice. Everyone ignored him.
"I say we get completely boggled, " Draco said. Blaise blew smoke in his face and he coughed and waved at it, annoyed.
"Boring," Harry returned immediately, and anyone who was watching could see the blush creeping up Draco's neck.
"Let's play a game," he said, smiling slyly to the sky.
The boys pestered him about the game as they moved to get to class, but Harry simply ignored them, the smirk forever donned by his lips quirking at some of their guesses.
"Spin the bottle?" Theo tried.
"Juvenile."
"I Never?" Draco put out. Harry gave him a look that was answer enough.
Much of the day was spent in that manner, and when Harry grew tired of the inanity of it all, he barked at them to shut up and they fell silent with a quickness that soothed his heart.
It happened in their fourth class of the day, as Severus Snape entered the room.
He said nothing at first, just stood and leaned back against his desk at the front of the class and waited. It took a few minutes, but his presence still seemed to suck the conversation out of the room with a rapidity that made even Harry envious.
Just looking at him, Harry didn't think much. He had black hair, so black Harry was reminded of crows, that hung around his face. He had eyes and clothes to match.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," were his first words, and the sound of his voice changed everything. It was a long, deep purr that Harry could imagine would be quite delicious in a more intimate setting. Harry recognised his desire the moment it dropped down inside of him, and as the man moved and spoke, it slowly grew and took hold of him.
"After many years of teaching and having once been a student myself, I understand that many of you may not care about the subject of biology in even the slightest. I was once your age, I know that there are many other points of interests to your growing, hormonal bodies." He paused, and moved his hand, stippling it on top of the desk and looking away with disinterest. "However, let me be very clear; I do not care," he said very slowly, "I will not accept unexcused absences, late assignments or laziness."
Someone snorted in the back.
The man's eyes snapped to the perpetrator. "Something amuses you?" There was a small, strange, smile on his face.
Ron Weasley's laugh died in the air. "No," he said after a moment. He glanced at Harry and Harry gave him a disdainful look.
"Which brings me to my next point," the teacher continued and turned his head back to the class, a single finger riding the line of the edge of the desk and inwardly, Harry drooled a little. "I will endeavour to earn your respect and I highly suggest that you endeavour to earn mine. I will not tolerate disrespect. And if that is the route any of you choose, or you do not like my rules, you can leave my classroom. Now, in fact," he finished shrugging one shoulder.
Nobody dared to move an inch, much less leave. Most didn't move because their parents watched their marks too closely for them to risk it. Some were too scared this new teacher would bite their heads off. Harry didn't move for completely different reasons.
"Excellent," he said, and moved off the desk and toward the blackboard. "You can call me Professor Snape. Now please, open your books to page three-hundred-ninety-four."
"What a wanker!"
"I will not tolerate disrespect!"
"God, he's going to be a pain."
Everyone gathered in the upperclassman common room that night to complain about the new addition to Hogwarts's staff.
Harry took the best seat in the room, laying on the couch in front of the fireplace with his feet in Theo's lap, watching everyone with a smile on his face. Gregory Goyle came into his field of vision, putting his elbow on the mantle and saying in a gruff voice, "We have to do something about it. I think I actually learned something in class today."
Everyone laughed, and the murmur of soft conversation overtook the room. They had done this before, gotten a teacher they didn't like sacked. Last year it was Professor Callow, who'd sent out disciplinary complaints to the parents.
Harry moved his socked feet around in Theo's lap and made sure he brushed against something sensitive. He could hear Theo's gasp even over the buzz of laughter and conversation around them.
Blaise spoke loudly over the noise. "No, but really," he smirked. "We could do something."
"My father could put in a complaint with the board," Draco mused.
Harry snorted. "God, Draco, you have no imagination." Everyone laughed more than they really needed to, of course. Harry closed his eyes and let the satisfaction of Draco's pink cheeks wash over him.
"We could get him sacked for something."
"Like what?"
"Racism?" Everyone looked at Blaise.
"We did that last year," he said. "Besides, I'm not playing the discriminated against black boy part again," he finished with disgust.
"Abuse?"
Harry shook his head. "It'd be hard to get concrete proof of that."
"What about...molestation?"
Harry grinned. "Theo! That's brilliant!" Theo beamed proudly.
"So," said Zacharias Smith, a doubtful look on his face, "a few of us talk to Dumbledore about how Snape's creepy and touches us? He'll deny it."
"We have to seduce him," Draco said, a distant look in his eye.
"We? One of us," Blaise clarified. Draco's brow furrowed. "Obviously," he murmured darkly.
"But who?" Smith pondered aloud, and in seconds everyone's eyes were on Harry.
"Me?" Harry said, feigning innocence, watching the fire's light dance on the polished surface of the coffee table. He considered the pros and cons of going ahead with their plan. Harry would get to fulfill his desire for the man and get rid of him cleanly. Snape represented almost everything he loathed in authority figures. And it'd be a good reassertion of his own authority. God, how easily we become what we hate most.
He breathed in the silence around him deep, and opened his mouth to give an affirmative, and for some reason unknown to him, said something else instead.
"I'll think about it."
The next morning in the Great Hall, Draco cut his toast with knife and fork delicately. "Wait," he said, "we didn't play your game last night!"
Harry licked a finger very indelicately and finished glaring at Weasley. "We were preoccupied."
"Well, what was it?"
"I'm still not going to tell you," Harry smiled, filling his mouth with spoon and porridge. Blaise rolled his eyes but asked anyway, "Give us a hint."
"Something naughty," he answered mischievously. "But if we take up this new project, we won't have time for games..."
"You'll certainly be very busy," Blaise smirked.
"If I even decide to do it."
"Which you will, of course. Too much fun for you not to," Draco said. Harry smiled back and lost his appetite.
Later in class, Harry stared at Snape's trousers, trying to find a crease and wondering how big he was.
"Mr. Potter?"
"Yes?" Harry met the man's eyes for the first time.
Snape pursed his lips and continued his "brief" lecture on molecular biology. Harry recognised it as a warning to pay more attention and while it irked him, it made his desire peak low in his belly. He was slightly disturbed and curious at his attraction to the man, seeing as he'd been with much handsomer a person. But there was just something so appealing about him...
When class ended, Harry heard his own name called behind him in that dark, vivid voice.
"Yes, Professor?
Snape waited till everyone left the classroom. Weasley pushed passed him and Harry saw red, his teeth grinding, already planning. He saw Theo glare at the back of Weasley's head.
"You were drifting off during class today."
Harry was startled. He'd forgotten Snape was there.
"I apologise. I'll try not to let it happen again, sir" Harry said, choosing the polite route. Snape's face was blank as he looked at him, so it was impossible to read the man.
"Is there any particular reason you chose not to pay attention?" It might have sounded antagonistic coming from anyone else's mouth, but Snape's moved around the words too indifferently for it to mean much.
Harry thought for a moment before responding, wondering who to be. Polite Harry? Innocent, oblivious Harry? Clever arsehole? Monster?
A combination of sorts? "I don't really think that's any of your business, sir," Harry said, quicker and with more feeling than perhaps he'd meant to.
Snape hummed and stoked the fire between Harry's eyes. "Sounds like trouble," he replied.
"I don't know what you're talking about." There was a pause. "If there's nothing else, sir, I-"
"I went to school with your father."
Harry blinked. Suddenly, it was like Snape had blown a balloon into his throat.
"S-sorry?" Harry hadn't stuttered like that since he was eleven.
"Your father attended this school, did he not? James Potter?"
Harry had never met anyone who'd known his parents, except...he closed his eyes. He'd never even heard or spoken those names aloud.
"How-how did you know that?"
"You look remarkably like your father," Snape said, a dark look in his eyes. "But you have your mother's eyes. It's quite astonishing actually," he continued as if talking to himself. His mother?
"How-" A thousand questions swirled in his head, hundreds to sound, hundreds to keep. "Why did you feel the need to tell me that?"
It was Snape's turn to blink. "I assumed you've never met anyone who knew them. I simply-"
"Actually, I changed my mind. I really don't care. Don't care what you thought, and I don't care that you knew my parents," he shot, his voice raising.
"This is a bit uncalled for," Snape said, a new line in his forehead.
"You started the conversation!" Harry said, his temper surfacing.
"I had your interests in mind," Snape said, so calmly that Harry wanted to hit him.
"You have no idea what kind of person I am, how could you possibly know anything about my 'interests'?
Snape crossed his arms. "I believe I've learned a lot, considering this reaction."
Harry's brow furrowed. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Snape's nostrils flared. "Mind your tongue. I'll remind you that you are speaking to a professor."
The reaction made something in him jump with excitement, like a hungry cat for food. "Well, Professor, some words of advise. Fuck off." He grabbed his rucksack from the floor where it had fallen and left the classroom, Snape silent behind him.
Harry stood outside the door a moment, breathing hard, the buzzing in his head louder than it had been in a very long time. The noise spread and clustered out into his ears and faded, his skin still reverberating. It gave way to one, pure, unadulterated sound that rose above the chaos.
Monster.
"We're doing it," Harry announced.
"Knew it," Blaise said, flipping through a tabloid. Theo opened his mouth to say something and looked down at the carpet instead.
"This is going to be delicious," Draco said, eyes gleaming.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Weasley. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Don't speak to me," Harry warned.
"No, but really, I'm curious, who the fuck do you think you are?" He walked over to where Harry was seated in front of the fire and towered over him. "Messing with a man's life, his career?"
"You can act big as you want, Weasel, it's not going to get you anywhere. It doesn't matter what you think," Harry said slowly and loudly. "When are you going to get that?"
"When you get that you can't just go about ruining people's lives and getting away with it!"
"Oh, like how I ruin your life? Oh, poor poor Weasel getting bullied by the rich kids?" Harry said, a disgusted look on his face. "God, get over yourself! Acting morally superior isn't going to make you a better person. Because we're going to do whatever the fuck we want, and you won't do anything about it."
"Fuck you," Weasley said, looking slightly disturbed.
"Just because you're poor doesn't make you any better than the rest of us, right boys?" There was a hum of agreement around the room. Harry got up from his seat and stood on the couch, towering over Weasley. He pulled Weasley's face into his hands, looked him straight in the eye, touched the skin around his nose with his thumbs, breathed in his face. "I really want you to get that."
The entire room was silent. "Don't touch me," Weasley said, bewildered, but still as an animal caught in the light.
Harry smiled and let go.
You look remarkably like your father. But you have your mother's eyes. It's quite astonishing actually...
With his finger on the cold surface of the mirror he traced the curve of his nose, dug into the crease at the corner of his lip, dragged along the straight line of his jaw. He took it all in together and tried to separate them into two people, tried to envision them there, looking back at him in the mirror.
Someone put a hand on his shoulder.
He jumped, gasped. "Theo! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?"
"Sorry," he said, laughing a little. "What are you doing?"
Harry shook his head. He was hungry in a way where even his lungs felt like they needed filling, feeding.
"Nothing," he insisted.