Rich and Creamy: Chapter Four

Friends In Low Places

Harry was walking slowly to his final class of the day. Potions. He and Hermione were the only Gryffindors that made it into the NEWT level classes, although he wasn't quite sure how he had pulled that off. He suspected Dumbledore of being behind it as he knew his OWL hadn't been high enough. He got an 'E' (Exceeds Expectations) but Snape only took those with an 'O' (Outstanding) into his class. Perhaps McGonagall was behind it. She had offered to help him become an Auror if it was the last thing she did. And she was tenacious enough to do so. But his thoughts were not on how he got into the prestigious class. Nor were they on the class at all. They were on the many people he hadn't yet talked to, and the ones he was looking forward to hunting down. Hoping against hope that one of those few would be his true love.

He had just gotten to the door of the Potions classroom, where all the other students -Ravenclaw and Slytherin- were milling about. He caught sight of Professor Snape bearing down on them from further up the corridor when he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, wand drawn and ready, he saw Blaise Zabini watching him. Staring actually. Then the boy spoke and Harry felt all the blood leach from his face, only to come rushing back fiercer than ever.

"I've been drawn to you since I first saw you. I've loved you since fifth year. I want to be with you always."

With a gasp Harry drew back into the protective circle of Hermione's arms. He was aware that he was gaping like some blasted fish but couldn't seem to help himself. It was beyond his reckoning how someone so quiet could first be a Slytherin, then be attracted to attention-gathering Harry. Not that Harry wanted or wished for the attention. It's just that people didn't seem to want to give him his right to privacy. And with him being thrust into the spot-light all the damned time, he couldn't believe that someone as studious and wallflower-ish could want that. But there was the declaration. There were the stares of the other Slytherins, some colored with disgust, others, abhorrence. And the silence. Even Snape seemed to have come to a complete stop.

"I... err.. umm." Harry was horrified by the look of complete shock and shame on Zabini's face.

Malfoy started snickering, which broke the spell over the other students. Only Hermione noticed that something else was amiss, which she was gracious enough to share with Harry.

"Harry," she whispered as Snape finally opened the door and they were settling down in their seats at the back of the class. "Did you see the look on Snape's face when Zabini professed his love for you?"

"Err. No, 'Mione. I was too busy trying to keep Zabini at bay."

"Well, you should have looked. He looked... I don't know. He keeps such a control over himself that I was surprised to see any emotions at all. But there were. Horror, definitely. And something else. Betrayal, I think. And pain. I don't understand it."

He gave her a dumbfounded look and just sat there.

"I hope he doesn't embarrass the poor boy. He probably got a spelled box of chocolates as well. We'll go to the library and try to figure it out after dinner."

Snape stalked to the front of the class, after slamming the door closed behind him. That brought all attention bearing on him, waiting for his scathing comments and cruel observations.

They never came. Instead, writing was appearing on the board, giving them their lesson plan for the day. Potion, ingredients, and pages. No reason given, but none were brave -or stupid- enough to ask.

Hermione and Harry worked on their potion in silence, Harry throwing occasional glances towards his teacher. If he didn't hate the man so much, he might've been concerned. As it was Harry was merely wondering what horrors Snape had in store for him.

~*~

Severus Snape stalked the classroom, robes billowing behind him with every sweeping movement. The silence broken only by the rustling of his robes, the simmering of cauldrons, ocassional scratches of a quill as some student or other took notes on their potion.

His thoughts turned to the Potter boy. He shouldn't even have been in the class to begin with. 'Damn the Order! If it weren't for them, Potter would never have gotten into the class in the first place. Now Zabini and his love for the Gryffindor Golden Boy,' he thought with disgust. 'Just the thought of a Slytherin brought to his knees by a Gryffindor. A Potter, no less. Sickening. Damn, I'd better stop thinking about this.'

Shooting a glare at the two Gryffindors, he swept up the aisle again completing another circuit of the room. With an inward sigh he noticed that there were ten minutes left in the class. Most students were cleaning up, finishing their potions and bottling them. With the labels affixed, they trouped up to his desk one at a time and deposited them in a neat row.

'Half an hour left and I can talk again. Then I won't have to worry about making a fool out of myself like Zabini and that Hufflepuff,' he thought with a grim sense of pleasure.

~*~

As the day wore on, the power of the charm became more potent. Professor Snape was relieved that his heartfelt truth had not come out on the board when he had the assignment appear. But, now, the school day was over and he had survived. Time to clean up the classroom and hide down in his dungeon.

~*~

Harry was wandering through the labyrinth that made up the dungeons of Hogwarts, still trying to find who his true love may be. He didn't know why, or how, he was there. It's not like he was in love with a Slytherin after all. 'Am I?' he thought, then shook the crazy notion from his head.

Just as he was about to turn back and head up the staircases for more hospitable company, he heard voices. Two voices, and one that chilled him to his bones. 'Oh no! It's not possible. It can't be.'

He slipped through the doorway into the darkened room, sliding along the shadows of the wall until he was well concealed. Or so he thought. Neither occupant seemed to notice his entrance, or his presence at all for that matter. He was content to watch. To wait. To know.

~*~

As Professor Snape finished cleaning, he heard a noise. Turning around, he saw Padma Patil from Ravenclaw standing uncertainly in the doorway. He recognized her; there was not a student at Hogwarts who did not come through his classes. Though why she was there when she didn't have the NEWT class, he couldn't imagine.

"What do you want?" he croaked. The potion was just wearing off and his voice was still uncertain.

"Professor," she gulped, "I love you. I adore you. I've tried for years to deny it, but I just can't any more."

Her hands were balled into fists, her face was contorted in agony. Snape just stared at the girl, surprised - no, shocked - that she, of all the girls in school, should have such feelings. She had never done well in Potions. In fact, she had been the clumsiest of his students in a long while, eclipsing even the Longbottom creature for spills and broken equipment.

"I can't stop myself! I never wanted to tell you! Oh, I just want to die!"

She threw her hands up to her face and ran from the room. Snape stared after her in disbelief. He felt the blood drain from his face. These charmed boxes were more of a menace than he'd thought they could be. He finally decided to get back to what he had been doing, when he saw the glimmer of a face in the shadows by the door.

Harry Potter.

And his heart sank.

~*~

Harry started when he saw those obsidian orbs lock with his own green ones.

"Professor! I..."

~tbc~

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