Disclaimer: I do not know J.K. Rowling nor have I created any of her characters, places, or descriptions. They are entirely licensed to her and I have no part in profits or otherwise. I have not plagiarized any parts of her book and am creating a completely separate plot line all my own, borrowing the characters.
"That git," Harry announced to his friends, Hermione and Ron, as they walked from the dungeons to the divination room. "He gave me a T on my essay about Sleeping Draughts." Hermione bit her pink lip, and looked at the ground as Ron agreed with the green-eyed boy wholeheartedly. They both looked at her, surprised by her silence and almost taken aback that she had not concurred with them about their most hated Professor, Snape.
"Well, I'm quite happy with my grade," She said quickly to justify herself. " I got an O on mine for truth potions." She stopped as she heard Ron mumble under his breath 'show off', because he had also gotten a "T" on his paper. She swept a lock of bushy brown hair from view of her cinnamon eyes before continuing. "I think he has just begrudged you, Harry."
"What about me," Ron protested at the lack of his name being mentioned. Harry Ignored his plea to be noticed and answered Hermione.
"He can't give me bad grades because he doesn't like me, can he?" Hermione shrugged making an apparently-he-can face. "He really has no reason to dislike me in the first place, except for maybe the house I'm in." Harry said sarcastically as he rolled his green eyes.
"You do remember how your father treated him, don't you? That's probably why. He just hates your whole family." Ron smirked at this conclusion.
"That makes it much better Ron." Smiled Harry, now somewhat less frustrated than he had been. Ron's smile made Harry laugh softly.
The trio had finally come to the silver ladder that reached the divination room. Hermione had continued on to Arithmacy, but Harry and Ron ascended into the classroom, finding seats in the far corner. The room was clouded with incense, which furled to the ceiling in big elaborated waves. Professor Trelawney floated from the shadow as more and more Students flooded into the room, and as usual was wearing her incredibly large glasses and several chattering shawls. Her large eyes traveled the room, surveying every student. Harry sighed and relaxed himself in the cushioned chair, feeling quite relieved that this was his last class until Occlumency later tonight. Dumbledore was going to be giving him lessons tonight.
The feeling of ease continued on into dinner and he did rather well with his lessons, and even when Harry had entered the common room to find a grueling training schedule for Quidditch on the post board. He found his favorite chair by the fire and waited for Hermione to arrive back from the library and Ron from upstairs in the dormitories. A big ginger ball purred loudly as it curled its body around Harry's leg and eventually jumped and nestled into his lap.
Harry watched the flames dance in to fireplace as he scratched behind the ears of the cat. The noise in the background of the room seemed to fade away into nothing and Harry's eyes closed as he thought. His mind began to wander over the day, slowing tripping from reality and into fantasy. He dreamed that Snape had spilled a pot of boiling Flobbertuber Puss on himself and broke out in a series of blisters. He dreamed that Malfoy on the slytherin Quidditch team had fallen from his broom, while Harry caught the snitch in a great victory. He also dreamed that he heard Ron screaming his name over and over, but not in pain, in pleasure.
"Harry. HARry! HARRY!" Ron's hands were on Harry's shoulders and he was shaking him awake. Harry's eyes shot open and he was staring into Ron's twinkling deep blue ones.
"Get off, will you." Said Harry as he pushed Ron back off his shoulders. The remnants of Harry's daydream still lingered in certain areas of his anatomy. He quickly let his hands fall to his lap, to notice Crookshanks was long gone.
"Oi! What the matter with you?!" Said Ron as he stepped back and sat on the floor a little disappointed.
"I'm sorry Ron. You just startled me. Why did you wake me?" Harry's eyes wondered over Ron with a deep precision as firelight struck his red hair, and brought it to life.
"I wanted to tell you that Fred and George sent us a box of puking pastilles, and some chocolate frogs. I can't believe their joke shop is doing so well." Harry was only half listening to Ron, but more surveying his features. Harry's pants began to become restrictive and his face flushed with heat.
"What's the matter Harry?" Said Ron with a knowing smirk. "Are you thinking of Cho again?" Harry smiled distantly at his oblivious friend.
"Yeah." He answered with the same distant smile." That's exactly what it is. I Think I'd better go up to bed, before this gets too out of hand." He stood up and pulled at the crotch of his pants.
"Yeah, You'd better get to the dormitory before Hermione sees that." Ron smiled again and looked at the fire in reminiscence." She'll have a bloody fit." Harry walked From Ron managing a weak 'goodnight' before he disappeared down the dormitory stairs. "Cho" he laughed to himself as he trudged up the steps.
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Harry awoke with and odd sensation riveting through his body the next morning. He felt as is his body was completely awake, yet his mind wasn't. He had dreamed, but any memory of it was now fleeting quickly into the day's reality.
He looked beside him and saw Ron sleeping peacefully, as were Dean and Seamus. Rays of sun were hitting the floor in front of the window, but there was an odd outline that caused Harry to dart his eyes up quickly. On the sill stood a brown and white barn owl, with a roll of parchment fastened to his leg. Harry watched it flutter its wings and float over to his bed, landing softly between his knees.
"This couldn't wait for the morning post?" he whispered aloud. The owl stuck out its leg impatiently and Harry had no choice, but to read the letter. He untied the knot slowly as not to hurt the little feather ball, gave it a knut, and watched it fly away happily.
He slowly opened the parchment, filled with excitement that it might be from Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Or even Sirius. That was shot down quickly when he remembered what had happened. Still after all these months he was unable to cope with it. He unrolled the parchment dully, and spread it so that he could read it:
Dear Mr. Potter,
Although I am very displeased to announce it, you will no longer be reporting to Dumbledore for your Occlumency lessons. I would be most appreciative if we do not have a reoccurrence of last time, because I rarely even give second chances much less third. You will be pleased to know that it will only last for several weeks, during Dumbledore's short absence from Hogwarts. You are to report directly to my office after lessons every day of the weak, except Sundays and on Thursdays when you are required at your nasty Quidditch practice.
Professor Severus Snape.
Harry had recognized the handwriting almost immediately and the feelings of dread once again filled him. Occlumency with Snape again? How terrible will this be?
He had to go again, to his most hated professor, so that he could have his mind read. Surely if Snape saw the daydream he had had about Ron last evening by the fire, the whole school would be know that Harry "preferred his kind." He knew how Ron would react. He could just see it. "Eww, Harry thas nasty. My Mom says that I should keep my distance." He would lose all his friends, his reputation, and his popularity. Hermione would try to fix him, looking up different personality altering spells, and that would be an embarrassment all in itself. So bad, in fact, that he couldn't imagine it at the moment.
He shuddered. Even worse, Snape would know. He would relentlessly make references to Harry's particular way of life. Often bashing him in class, much to the delight of Malfoy and his cronies. They would all laugh, until they cried.
He shook their laughing faces from his mind, and turned to see Ron stirring in the bed next to him. Quickly he crumpled up the parchment and threw it on top of the things in his trunk. Slowly he dressed in his robes and prepared for a long Saturday of dread and anxiety. Harry was really beginning to understand why Percy never wanted to talk about his choice of genders.
Breakfast went exceptionally well, despite the fact that Snape kept throwing Harry nasty scowls. That was disregardable, though as Hermione started chattering away about S.P.E.W. and how she had received mail from new Members. Harry didn't really listen, but noticed when her and Ron got into a argument about how it should be pronounced. All Harry knew was that his and Ron's legs were touching, and his uncontrollable satyriasis was beginning to kick in.
"Ron, ITS NOT SPEW, ITS S.P.E.W.!!!!" Hermione had the last say and ron sank into his seat, a piece of toast in hand. "Harry make him stop being such a git! He'll listent to you."
"Ron, cut it out." Ron's mouth opened in that cute little 'what'd I do' face, and Harry looked away, and could have swore he heard somebody mumble 'spew' under their breath.
He didn't really care, he was too busy watching Snape make faces from his end of the table over to Harry. Snape looked away, and Harry hoped that he could overcome Snape today, so that he didn't see what Harry saw.
For the rest of breakfast, both Ron and Hermione would not speak to one another. Harry didn't say much either, but was trying to control his ithyphallic. He didn't really care about those two and their trivial arguments. He was just waiting for them to ask one another out, so Harry could be left alone with his nagging lust for Ron. That way he could have no hope with it, and it could be left alone. He could just feel like plain old Harry again. And he didn't have to deny himself, telling Ron what he wanted to.
He looked up to greet yet another cowl from the head table, and he turned his back and finished his breakfast without so much as a sigh. Tonight, and all of the other lessons were going to be miserable. He couldn't help but wonder though, Why couldn't Snape let go of his Grudge for Harry's father. What had he done so wrong, To deserve such ridicule from James and the others? It had to have been something important because Snape had not yet forgot it.
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So what'd You guys think? I know it was a little long and some of it was a little pointless, but I just couldn't figure out how to start it. Please R&R. Even Flames are appreciated. Any thoughts on how it could be made better are too. =)! Next chapter should be up tomorrow. Check for it!
