Here's Something I Can Hold On To

Chapter 1:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not profiting from this story.

Harry was being nudged awake by something, but he was so hung over that all he wanted to do was sleep. Last night had been insane, they had won the British and Irish League finals and were now the national Quidditch champions. They were now moving on to the European Cup and if they won that they would move into the first rounds of the qualifying for the World Cup finals. Harry had been the star of the game having grabbed the snitch in the final moments and winning a tied game for his team. He had gotten so drunk that he didn't remember half the night, the amount of Firewhiskey that he had consumed was probably enough to kill a man. Everyone had insisted on buying him shots at the pub not far from the stadium, and he didn't even remember where he had ended up for the night. He had a reputation of waking up in a random guy's bed when he got this drunk, and more than likely that's where he was now. There was that incessant nudging again, couldn't they just let him sleep a bit longer.

He opened his eyes, and it took him a minute or so to be able to focus on where he was. That's when he saw that he was laying on a lawn, in the middle of a random neighborhood. This was a first, he could honestly say that he had made it inside after every drunken escapade. He rolled over onto his back and groaned when he got the full effect of the sun. His head was pounding and everything sort of felt like it was spinning, this was a hangover for the ages. What he didn't expect was to wake up to find his former potions professor standing over him with a scowl that looked absolutely murderous. He knew that he was in for a proper reaming now, what was Snape even doing here? Had someone reported him missing and then Dumbledore had sent Snape of all people to track him down.

"Potter!" Snape barked at him.

"Sorry, Professor Snape," he moaned and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Snape demanded.

"I don't exactly know to be honest. I guess I got a little too drunk last night," Harry frowned and rubbed his temples in an effort to stop his head from pounding. "Did Dumbledore send you after me. I'm not a child I can take care of myself."

"Funny that," Snape snorted.

"What's so funny?"

"Professor Dumbledore did not send me to hunt down his golden boy. I came out to collect my morning paper and what do I find? A former student asleep on my front lawn."

"Wait, you live here?" Harry asked surprised.

"Indeed," Snape pondered before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him up. "Inside, before the damn Prophet finds you and decides to snap a picture."

Harry almost emptied the contents of his stomach right there. The sudden movement of being jerked to his feet by Snape and the hangover made his head swim and it took everything in him to hold back the tide of vomit that was sure to come. He made it just inside the door before Snape had to point him to the bathroom. He bolted down the hall and into the small bathroom and heaved everything out over the toilet. When Harry had emptied the contents of his stomach it took everything in him to get the dry heaving to stop. Normally, he carried a hangover potion on him for such reasons, but upon checking his pockets he couldn't find it and put it up to having lost it somewhere during the previous night's escapades.

He rinsed his face in the sink before taking in his surroundings. The bathroom was done in dark shades of green and he was honestly surprised that the older man had any taste or need to be stylish. Snape seemed to be someone who was more interested in functionality than the way something looked. The rest of his house was done much the same way, and Harry had to admit that this did not look like a place that he would find Snape living. He tried to take in as much as he could as he made his way into the sitting room where Snape stood waiting on him. The man scowled at him and thrust a small potions vial to him and told him to drink it, it would quell the hangover. Then he pointed towards a chair in the small kitchen and instructed him to sit.

Harry watched captivated as the man began to prepare a breakfast for the two of them. He couldn't help but find it all sort of attractive, the way the man mixed the eggs, and chopped the ingredients to go into the omelets that he was preparing. He shook his head and told himself not to ever think of Snape that way again. When breakfast was done Snape silently slid a plate in front of him and then took his own and sat in the chair across from him.

"It's important to eat once you've taken the potion," Snape said after a moment. "It helps to soak up any residual alcohol. I trust that you know to drink plenty of water throughout today?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed and feeling like a chastised child.

"It is time to grow up," Snape added after a moment. "How can you expect to make anything of a career in sports if you drink yourself into submission after every game. I trust this is the first time you have woken in someone's yard?"

"Yeah," Harry blushed.

"Grow up, Potter. I am tired of seeing your mug on the front page of the paper," Snape said sharply. "I understand that the majority of your youth was robbed by the dark lord, but you are no longer a teenager."

"Sorry," Harry blushed again and ran a hand through his messy hair.

After thanking Snape for breakfast, the man showed him to the door and Harry apparated home to his flat. If anyone else had commented on his recent behavior he would have gotten hot headed about it and told them to get stuffed, but something about Snape saying it that resonated with him. He couldn't get the thoughts of finding the man attractive out of his head, what was going on with him. He showered and decided to go to Diagon Alley to have a wander around, he couldn't stand the idea of sitting at home and thinking about Snape anymore. There was this pull to the man and he couldn't figure out why, what was going on with him. He had had breakfast with the man and now he felt like he had been slipped some sort of potion that made his stream of thoughts circle around the man instead.

People mostly left Harry alone when he went out in public, besides a few stray reporters, and a couple of kids who were brave enough to ask for an autograph most outings were peaceful. He wasn't really sure what he was looking for, and he spent a lot of time in the Quidditch shop checking out the latest gear, and the newest models of broomsticks. He flew for England's team and they always had the latest models before they were even released. He had even been talked into doing a few modeling jobs for them in order to advertise their new gear. He always ended up giving it to Ginny who was currently flying for the Holyhead Harpies. He didn't need it, and even though she was making pretty good money, the Harpies weren't sponsored by top of the line broom and gear companies. He didn't need all of it, and he could afford to buy all of it, and he usually did. She even got his old brooms once the team were issued new ones, and she would pass on the one she had at the moment to someone else. The only broom he ever bothered to keep was the Firebolt that Sirius had bought him. He could never imagine letting it go, and he still took it out flying sometimes.

After spending the morning in the Quidditch shop, he got some lunch from the restaurant that sat across from the Apothecary and the shop itself reminded him of his potions professor. Once he had believed the thoughts were gone here they were again rushing in and clouding his thought process. When he had finished lunch he found himself going into the shop. He hadn't been in the shop in ages, and he had no idea what most of the stuff was. There was a handsome man behind the counter who perked up when he entered. The walls were lined with strange ingredients and his thoughts quickly turned to maybe getting something for Snape to apologize for that morning's escapades in the man's yard. He had no idea what to get a world class potion's master and finally the man behind the counter stopped his fretting.

"Looking for anything in particular?" He asked cheerfully.

"A gift. I think," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Anything in particular?"

"That's the problem. I'm trying to say sorry, but at the same time he's very trained in potions and I have no idea what he could possible need," Harry said biting his lip.

"Ahh, so hard to buy for then?" The man chuckled.

"Yes, and I'm aiming to please."

"If you want to issue the perfect apology, I think I have the perfect thing for you," the man said before disappearing into the backroom.

"What's that?" Harry asked eyeing the clear liquid in the glass bottle the man was holding.

"Acromantula venom, very rare, and very hard to come by," the man said happily. "I just got this in this morning."

"Is it very expensive?" Harry grinned.

"Yes, this much is 150 galleons," the man nodded.

"Brilliant! I think this will do then," Harry said pulling out his wallet to pay.

The man boxed up the glass bottle, and cast an unbreakable charm on it before handing it to Harry. Afterwards Harry wandered into one of the shops that sold gift supplies and bought a shiny black bag for it and a ribbon to wrap around the box. He momentarily considered buying the man a bottle of expensive Firewhiskey, but he was sure what type the man even drank.

The gift sat on Harry's dining room table for most of the week. He was nervous about seeing the man again, and he was also worried about whether the man would like the gift or not. He was also still slightly embarrassed about the fact that the man hat felt the need to scold him for the way he had been acting and presenting himself to the public eye. Technically, it was none of Snape's business, but after the war Harry had developed an intense respect for the man. There was also the embarrassing nature of Harry's little crush, he wasn't sure he could be in the same room as Snape without blushing furiously. He knew he would never develop the courage to ask the man out and prayed that his childish crush would soon fade. There's no way he could even talk to Ron or Hermione about it because Hermione would turn on protective mother mode and Ron would laugh him off the face of the Earth.

After days of pacing in front of his dining room table he finally worked up the nerve to take the gift to Snape. He convinced himself that he was just going to stop by and apologize to the man and then come home. He was more nervous about this encounter than when he had gone to meet Voldemort in the forest. Finally he ripped up the bag off the table, straightened his clothes and apparated away before he could manage to change his mind. He stood in front of Snape's house and took deep breaths before heading up the pathway and knocking on the door.

A/N: Lemme know what you think and whether or not you'd like to see more. This is just something I'm working on between chapters of my main story Diary of a London Call Boy which is also a snarry fic. Thanks in advance for reading and reviewing!