Hour or the Day
Chapter Two : Oh Come On Sevvy.....
J. Lynn (j.lynn@email.com)
"So Severus, finished torturing students for the day?"
Snape looked up to see Harry Potter leaning against the wall in that infuriating way only the most self assured people can pull off.
"I might be. What do you have in mind?"
Harry ambled across the room and perched himself on the desk. "I think we should celebrate."
Snape leaned back, intrigued to say the least. Going out for tea aside, Harry hadn't been in the mood to do much since their last resistance meeting. The death of Justin Finch-Fletchley had upset him more than he liked to let on, and increased movements of the remaining Death Eaters worried him. Something had obviously happened. Something big. "What's going on?"
Harry smiled, the first smile that had reached his eyes for a while. "Draco's shown up at Herm's," he said softly.
Draco had chosen early on to follow in Snape's footsteps as a spy for the resistance. And as Voldemort had come close to the truth it had been arranged that Malfoy would announce Snape's traitorous actions, along with carefully planted evidence, giving Snape a (rather stressful, but good nonetheless) reason to avoid seeing Voldemort and his followers. This had the added bonus of placing Draco among the most trusted of the inner circle.
In an attempt to safeguard Draco, all communication had been cut off, and other than the occasional message, no one had seen or heard from him in nearly a year. Harry had been especially worried; he and Draco had struck up a friendship in their fifth year, which they had kept secret until a date was set for Draco's initiation. Harry had gathered the small group which made up the inner circle of the resistance and Draco had announced his plans, asking for their help and trust.
Severus valued the young man greatly, but while he possessed a rather uncle-ish role in Draco's life, Harry was his brother in spirit. The two young men respected each other, and cared for the other greatly, and Snape knew the uncertainty of the situation had weighed on Harry.
"Is he alright? Does anyone suspect anything?" Severus asked the two most pressing questions first.
Harry, relief evident on his face, replied. "Herm said he's alright, and his cover's fine. Seems he wanted a day or two to come up for air."
"Does he have anything new to report?"
"We'll head up by train tomorrow and find out." Harry replied, the anxiousness to be off evident. Anti-apparition fields were still in place in Hogwarts, and were extended out to cover the countryside for miles around following Voldemort's return. Shaking himself, Harry grinned, "Anyhow, I want to get out, let's go to Three Broonsticks."
Snape looked at the stack of papers Harry was currently perched upon, and with a denial forming on his lips looked up at Harry. Harry, who was sitting there, looking happy and carefree for the first time in a long time. Harry, whose eyes were sparkling, and whose smile once again shone from his face. Harry, who was bright and vibrant and alive, and just to damned hard to say no to.
Aww, fuck it.
* * * * * * *
"... And so there he was, pissant drunk, serenading -off key I might add- Hermionie's seventy year old neighbor with 'Tiny Chimney Sweep'."
They were both more than a little tipsy themselves, which always had been a good atmosphere for telling 'Ron stories'. Severus silently resolved to buy the man something quite nice someday, even with the cursed triplets he deserved it. His and Hermionie's helter-skelter courtship alone had kept himself and Harry in stitches for more nights than he could count over the last few years.
It was nearly morning when they stumbled into the castle, attempting to be quiet as they made their way towards Severus's corner of the dungeon.
"You want mouthwash too, or just the hangover-be-gone potion?" Severus asked as he attempted to concentrate on finding the right bottle.
Harry made a face, "Just the hangover. To be quite honest, I have no idea how that mouthwash of yours even works, it tastes bad enough to be hangover inducing in and of itself."
Severus harrumphed. He knew how badly it tasted, but it worked, and there was no reason to go insulting his creation. He snatched the hangover potion from Harry's hand. "Well if you feel that way about it, maybe I shouldn't give you any of my nasty potions."
Harry lunged for the potion, without his usual skill, and narrowly missed falling flat on his face as Severus neatly sidestepped him.
"Ahh, ahh, ahh," Severus chided. "Not until you apologize."
Harry, feeling rather contrary in a good-natured way, lunged again, tackling the potions master, but unable to get his hands on the bottle. "I certainly won't. It tastes terrible and you know it."
"Be that as it may," Severus smirked, leaning backwards as the slightly shorter Harry stood on his toes in attempt to reach the elusive bottle, "You shan't have it unless you apologize."
"You want a bet," Harry asked, in between jumps.
"Oh, give up boy, you haven't got a chance," Snape drawled teasingly.
Harry, with quite enough drinks in him to make him rather reckless, decided to throw Snape off guard... And he did.
The kiss began fast and furious, but quickly slowed into something softer, and more vulnerable. Severus lowered his arms and placed one hand on Harry's cheek, and the other at his waist. Just as the kiss started to become something deeper, Harry seemed to come back to himself, and quickly stepped back.
The two men starred at one another, breathing deeply. Confusion, fear, arousal and something rather indefinable thick in the air.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment, then, with an air of mischief that could not quite cover the panic, he stepped forward and snatched the bottle from Snape's numb hand. "Told you I'd get it," he quipped before turning serious. "Goodnight Severus," he whispered before slipping from the room.
A low voice spoke after a moment.
"Goodnight Harry"
* * * * * * *
Chapter Two : Oh Come On Sevvy.....
J. Lynn (j.lynn@email.com)
"So Severus, finished torturing students for the day?"
Snape looked up to see Harry Potter leaning against the wall in that infuriating way only the most self assured people can pull off.
"I might be. What do you have in mind?"
Harry ambled across the room and perched himself on the desk. "I think we should celebrate."
Snape leaned back, intrigued to say the least. Going out for tea aside, Harry hadn't been in the mood to do much since their last resistance meeting. The death of Justin Finch-Fletchley had upset him more than he liked to let on, and increased movements of the remaining Death Eaters worried him. Something had obviously happened. Something big. "What's going on?"
Harry smiled, the first smile that had reached his eyes for a while. "Draco's shown up at Herm's," he said softly.
Draco had chosen early on to follow in Snape's footsteps as a spy for the resistance. And as Voldemort had come close to the truth it had been arranged that Malfoy would announce Snape's traitorous actions, along with carefully planted evidence, giving Snape a (rather stressful, but good nonetheless) reason to avoid seeing Voldemort and his followers. This had the added bonus of placing Draco among the most trusted of the inner circle.
In an attempt to safeguard Draco, all communication had been cut off, and other than the occasional message, no one had seen or heard from him in nearly a year. Harry had been especially worried; he and Draco had struck up a friendship in their fifth year, which they had kept secret until a date was set for Draco's initiation. Harry had gathered the small group which made up the inner circle of the resistance and Draco had announced his plans, asking for their help and trust.
Severus valued the young man greatly, but while he possessed a rather uncle-ish role in Draco's life, Harry was his brother in spirit. The two young men respected each other, and cared for the other greatly, and Snape knew the uncertainty of the situation had weighed on Harry.
"Is he alright? Does anyone suspect anything?" Severus asked the two most pressing questions first.
Harry, relief evident on his face, replied. "Herm said he's alright, and his cover's fine. Seems he wanted a day or two to come up for air."
"Does he have anything new to report?"
"We'll head up by train tomorrow and find out." Harry replied, the anxiousness to be off evident. Anti-apparition fields were still in place in Hogwarts, and were extended out to cover the countryside for miles around following Voldemort's return. Shaking himself, Harry grinned, "Anyhow, I want to get out, let's go to Three Broonsticks."
Snape looked at the stack of papers Harry was currently perched upon, and with a denial forming on his lips looked up at Harry. Harry, who was sitting there, looking happy and carefree for the first time in a long time. Harry, whose eyes were sparkling, and whose smile once again shone from his face. Harry, who was bright and vibrant and alive, and just to damned hard to say no to.
Aww, fuck it.
* * * * * * *
"... And so there he was, pissant drunk, serenading -off key I might add- Hermionie's seventy year old neighbor with 'Tiny Chimney Sweep'."
They were both more than a little tipsy themselves, which always had been a good atmosphere for telling 'Ron stories'. Severus silently resolved to buy the man something quite nice someday, even with the cursed triplets he deserved it. His and Hermionie's helter-skelter courtship alone had kept himself and Harry in stitches for more nights than he could count over the last few years.
It was nearly morning when they stumbled into the castle, attempting to be quiet as they made their way towards Severus's corner of the dungeon.
"You want mouthwash too, or just the hangover-be-gone potion?" Severus asked as he attempted to concentrate on finding the right bottle.
Harry made a face, "Just the hangover. To be quite honest, I have no idea how that mouthwash of yours even works, it tastes bad enough to be hangover inducing in and of itself."
Severus harrumphed. He knew how badly it tasted, but it worked, and there was no reason to go insulting his creation. He snatched the hangover potion from Harry's hand. "Well if you feel that way about it, maybe I shouldn't give you any of my nasty potions."
Harry lunged for the potion, without his usual skill, and narrowly missed falling flat on his face as Severus neatly sidestepped him.
"Ahh, ahh, ahh," Severus chided. "Not until you apologize."
Harry, feeling rather contrary in a good-natured way, lunged again, tackling the potions master, but unable to get his hands on the bottle. "I certainly won't. It tastes terrible and you know it."
"Be that as it may," Severus smirked, leaning backwards as the slightly shorter Harry stood on his toes in attempt to reach the elusive bottle, "You shan't have it unless you apologize."
"You want a bet," Harry asked, in between jumps.
"Oh, give up boy, you haven't got a chance," Snape drawled teasingly.
Harry, with quite enough drinks in him to make him rather reckless, decided to throw Snape off guard... And he did.
The kiss began fast and furious, but quickly slowed into something softer, and more vulnerable. Severus lowered his arms and placed one hand on Harry's cheek, and the other at his waist. Just as the kiss started to become something deeper, Harry seemed to come back to himself, and quickly stepped back.
The two men starred at one another, breathing deeply. Confusion, fear, arousal and something rather indefinable thick in the air.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment, then, with an air of mischief that could not quite cover the panic, he stepped forward and snatched the bottle from Snape's numb hand. "Told you I'd get it," he quipped before turning serious. "Goodnight Severus," he whispered before slipping from the room.
A low voice spoke after a moment.
"Goodnight Harry"
* * * * * * *