Rating: M
Warnings: Slash, Mpreg
Pairings: SS/HP
Genres: Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller
Summary: Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love. But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection - can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?
Chapter Six: Avoidance Never Solved Anything
"I can't teach Potter anymore."
Dumbledore looked up from his desk and across at the man who had just taken a seat opposite him. The man's eyes were heavy and there were dark circles beneath them caused from lack of sleep. His skin was a lot paler than usual.
Dumbledore sighed and stopped what he was doing, pressing his face into his hands for a moment before looking back at the other man, leaning his chin on his clasped hands wearily.
"And why, Severus, can you not teach him any longer?"
"Because," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "I do not like the boy."
"That 'boy' is willing to give up his life to save the wizarding community from a terrible fate and you wont help give him a better chance of the survival he so rightly deserves because you don't like him?"
"That is correct."
The old Headmaster sighed again, more deeply this time, and brought his hands up to massage his temples. He had known Severus now for a total of 27 years, 16 of which had been spent as co-workers, so he had experienced first-hand how stubborn and unreasonable the man could be. Having said that however, he also knew that Severus would always try to do the right thing, even if that act of kindness was disguised as something malicious.
"Why don't you like Harry, Severus?" he asked, sensing the potions teacher was in a particularly awkward mood.
"Because he is rude and obnoxious and I shouldn't be made to suffer his presence any longer."
"Oh, come now Severus, you hardly know the young man," Dumbledore said fairly, but Severus was having none of it.
"I don't want to know him. I have no desire to know him."
"You're being unreasonable. Surely you don't hate Harry so much that – "
"I can't teach him Albus," he cut across before the Headmaster could finish, "I just can't."
Dumbledore leaned backwards in his chair, surveying the other man. "You can't, Severus, or you won't?"
"Both," he replied hotly.
"I'm sure after you've given him a few more lessons you'll – "
"No, Albus, I won't do it. I won't do it and you can't make me!"
"Now you're starting to sound like a children," Dumbledore frowned, disapprovingly. "Severus, what's brought this on? What's happened that's so terrible it has made you decide to discontinue young Harry's lessons?"
Severus was silent as he turned his head away from Dumbledore's penetrating gaze. The old man had a nasty habit of trying to see inside of Severus' mind when he refused to answer his questions; he seemed to think that, in doing so, he was helping Severus with his problem. But no one could help Severus with what he was now facing.
Last night he had made a complete and utter fool out of himself. But not only had he succeeded in humiliating himself, he had gone one step further – he had broken the rules and the laws and had kissed a student. And not only had he kissed a student, he had practically forced himself upon the poor thing. He was just glad Harry wasn't underage – at least he wouldn't be facing Azkaban. He'd just be out of a job.
He deserved to be fired though, and it wasn't just because he had forced himself upon a student. What kind of teacher gets drunk on school premises around young children? He had been a danger to himself and a danger to others. If he hadn't have seen Harry out in the grounds he didn't know what he would have ended up doing! He could have ended up in some ditch somewhere. He could have gotten himself into a fight. His father had always become violent after drinking; what was to say the same couldn't have happened to Severus?
But poor Harry! What must the boy be thinking? He was probably too scared to come anywhere near his teacher again! Harry had offered him help when Severus had been in no state to look after himself, and this was how Severus had repaid him? By kissing him? Shameful, Severus. Really disgraceful.
Severus closed his eyes and breathed deeply before facing Dumbledore once more.
"Please Albus," he said slowly, keeping his impatience to himself. "Please, can't you just teach Potter for a few weeks? I'm not saying I'm going to stop training him altogether; I just need a few weeks to sort things out. I just need some time off…away from him."
Dumbledore sighed for a third time that morning and looked as though he was considering what Severus had purposed.
"You promise you'll go back to teaching him again?" he asked, looking sternly at the other professor.
"I promise," said Severus, grateful. "You deal with him for the rest of February and I promise once March gets here you won't hear another word of compliant out of me."
Dumbledore raised a silver eyebrow.
"Well, about Potter anyway," added Severus.
Dumbledore smiled and nodded, considering once more. "You'll resume your lessons with him in March?"
"I give you my word."
Finally, Dumbledore agreed to take on Harry for the rest of the month and Severus stood up to leave. Now all he had to do was think of a way to avoid Harry during Potions classes.
Harry felt himself waking and he rolled over in his bed in a desperate attempt to go back to sleep, snuggling deep into the warm covers, surrounded by softness. He loved his bed; it was so soft and comfy and he always felt so secure in it. Feeling himself drifting off once more, he allowed his mind to be taken over by the world of dreams. It was intoxicating, this state of mind.
But then there was light. Such a bright light.
"Go away," he mumbled into his pillow, turning his face away from the light pouring through his bed curtains.
"Harry, it's time to get up. It's almost one in the afternoon."
"I'm still sleeping," he said, angry that he had been taken away from such bliss.
"No you're not. If you were sleeping then we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Harry recognised that tone of voice. It was Hermione.
He sighed and, with much effort, lifted his head up and opened his eyes. She was stood over him, smiling as she held out a small, blue bottle.
"What's this?" he asked her.
"It's a potion for the hangover," she said.
"I haven't got one," he told her, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "The guy at the bar gave me one of those potions that sober you up."
"Lucky you. Ron and Seamus could hardly sit up to swallow this thing before," she said as she waved the small bottle.
"Where is everyone anyway?" he asked, noticing that their beds were empty.
"Dean and Neville have gone to get something eat, I don't know where Seamus is, and Ron's in the shower. So?"
"So what?"
"Jake! You! Gay!"
"Oh."
"So how long have you known?" she pressed.
"Known what?"
"That you're gay, silly!"
"Oh, that…yeah, well, you see…" He wasn't quite sure how to explain it and it didn't help that he was groggy from his sleep. "…I kind of didn't know until just recently that I was gay…I mean, the feelings and stuff where there, you know? But I didn't notice them for what they were until I acknowledged it and let stuff just…run it's course…" he finished lamely. "I know I'm not making much sense, but it's sort of hard to explain."
"Oh, don't worry, I understand," he reassured him. "But you are happy aren't you?"
"Hermione, you just woke me up! Of course I'm not happy!"
"No, no, not that. I mean about being gay."
"Oh," he said again, "Well, yeah, I guess so. I hadn't really thought about it much…" Liar! he chided himself, remembering all the times he had spent worrying over the very matter. But it was far too early in the day to go into detail about all of that with Hermione.
"How come you never told us Harry? You do know you can talk to us, right?"
"Of course I do Hermione," he said, sitting up some more to prevent himself from sliding back down into the warmth of his duvet. "I didn't tell anyone to be honest. Apart from Sirius. And Ron. But it wasn't anything serious, you know? I just mentioned it to Ron. I talked to Sirius a bit more and he helped a little. I guess I just didn't want to tell anyone until I knew for sure. Sorry."
"Hey, that's perfectly fine," she smiled. "Just don't feel you can't talk to me because I'm a girl."
"I would never think that Hermi– " But his sentence was cut short when the door burst open and Neville came in, followed by Dean. They saw that Harry was awake and went over.
"How're you feeling this morning?" asked Dean, unfolding a copy of The Daily Prophet in his hands.
"Fine," said Harry, confused. "Why?"
"Because some idiot," said Neville, sitting down, "Has gone and written another article about you."
"Quite a personal one actually," said Dean, holding out the paper. "It has a colourful picture to go with it and all."
"The whole school's gossiping about it," Neville told him sombrely.
"What? About what?" Harry took the paper out of Dean's outstretched hand and turned it over. There, flashing up at him, was a photograph of himself and the boy from last night, Jake, kissing. And even though this annoyed Harry to no end, what annoyed him more was that the picture didn't even show his photographic self moving away; it just showed them dancing in the club and then Jake moving in for the kiss. And the article that went along with the picture ("Potter's Secret Gay-Lover") made him seem like some sort of slut.
"Why?" Harry asked, throwing the article down, "Why me?"
"Harry," Hermione began, taking the article into her own hands, "This time next week, no one will be that bothered about it."
"But what about now? What about this week? Hermione, everyone's going to laugh at me!"
"Why would they laugh at you?" Neville asked.
"I bet there are loads of other people in this school who are gay," said Dean. "I mean, sure, you'll get some stick from Malfoy and his gang…but apart from that…Harry, I'm almost positive people will be supportive."
Harry collapsed back into his bed and covered his face with his hands. When would he ever be able to have a life without the press writing all about it? His life was just one big story to them. When would they realise that he was a 17 year old boy and needed his privacy? He was growing up and he needed to deal with personal issues, not have them made public knowledge!
Realistically, Harry knew he would be able to cope. He had his friends and that was what mattered. Who cared what everyone else thought? Yeah, Malfoy would be a complete pain in the ass (more so than usual), but what did that matter?
He was annoyed at the article but he had much bigger things to worry about.
As the day wore on, Harry realised that his being 'outed' as gay wasn't as big a problem as he had thought it would be. Ok, so the Slytherins hadn't missed a chance to tease him so far, and some of the other students were skirting around him in the corridors as if he had some sort of contagious disease, but apart from that, things were almost normal; ('almost' being the key word).
Not once had Harry seen Snape that day. He hadn't been at lunch when Harry had finally decided to drag himself out of bed and he was now absent from dinner. Harry supposed he should feel grateful for the fact that he wasn't being forced into the company of the older man but all he could feel was a slight pang of guilt. Snape had, quite obviously, been very, very drunk so it should have fallen to Harry to look after the him. But he hadn't; instead, he had taken advantage of Snape by letting Snape take advantage of him. Snape was either really, really mad or really, really ashamed, neither of which was a good thing.
But Snape couldn't hide away forever. In 15 minutes time, Harry would be treading the familiar path down to the dungeons and having their scheduled lesson. He couldn't exactly say he was looking forward to it though…but the sooner things were set straight, the better.
Sighing, he picked up his spoon and tucked into the chocolate fudge cake Hermione had just placed in front of him.
"Cheer up mate, it might never happen," said Ron cheerfully, looking over at Harry. Harry looked up, confused, and Ron shook his head with a smile. "You've looked even gloomier than Professor Binns all day," he said. "What's up?"
"Oh," he said, shrugging, "You know. Exams coming up."
"Oh," said Ron, a little surprised. "I thought you were moping about that picture in the paper."
"Then why did you ask if you already knew?"
"To make conversation," he said.
"This conversation is going no where," Harry moaned, returning to his pudding. Ron shrugged, rolled his eyes, and turned back to his desert but looked up again as Professor Dumbledore appeared behind Harry. Harry twisted round in his seat and looked up.
"Ah, Harry," he said, smiling down at him. "I was wandering if you could join me in my office at 7 o'clock."
"Tonight?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded cheerfully.
"I'm sorry Professor, but I have my lessons with Professor Snape then."
"Oh? He hasn't told you?" Dumbledore sounded surprised.
"Told me, sir?"
"Yes. Severus has requested that he take some time off from teaching you and has asked me if I would like to fill in for him. Naturally, I said I would."
"He doesn't want to teach me anymore? Did he say why?"
"I'm afraid he did not. I assumed it was because the extra work was getting to him. So; you'll be in my office in five minutes?"
Harry nodded and watched solemnly as Dumbledore walked away.
As the week grew, Harry was growing more and more troubled. Hermione and Ron thought he was being paranoid, but Harry was convinced that Snape was deliberately avoiding him. The only time Harry saw Snape during that week was in class, and even then the older man would avoid eye contact with him. What was even worse was the lack of snarls and sneers thrown Harry's way; he wasn't even taking points away! Ron couldn't see what was so bad about that, but it played on Harry's mind constantly.
Toward the end of the week when nothing had changed, Harry had tried to corner the potions professor after class but Snape had just brushed him aside, ignoring Harry's words, and stalked down the corridor. Harry didn't know whether to be hurt or worried. Thinking about it, he also didn't know why he was bothered – it wasn't as if he fancied Snape or anything…really, it wasn't.
Sirius wrote to him, consoling him about the article in the paper, and Harry wrote back letting his godfather know that it hadn't affected him too much. He was taking the silly comments and jeers in his stride and it was only a matter of time before they left him be. Harry had actually received a lot of fan mail in response to the article, mostly from young men and older women, showing their support.
Harry had considered letting Sirius know of his sudden Snape dilemma (without mentioning names of course) but had decided against it. He was a grown man now and he would find a way to deal with this himself – that, and he didn't want anybody knowing, and he knew that if he mentioned anything about it to Sirius then he would press and press Harry until he gave in and told him who the man in question was. Harry couldn't see Sirius being happy, hearing something like that.
As the weekend drew round however, something happened that lifted Harry's spirits slightly and managed to make him forget all about Severus Snape.
Harry sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk on Saturday evening, awaiting his lesson. That afternoon, Harry had tried, once more, to get Snape to talk to him. Harry was getting seriously worried now. Snape was obviously ashamed of what he had done and Harry desperately wanted to console his teacher. The fact was that the more Snape dodged and avoided Harry, the more Harry wanted to fix the problem. He missed being yelled and snarled at. He didn't like to see the man so down.
But Harry didn't have time to brood on the matter any longer and as Dumbledore entered and announced the good news, Harry pushed Snape out of his mind just as Dumbledore told him that a Horcrux had been destroyed.
"Which one?" Harry asked, sitting up in his chair.
"Slytherins locket," he said with a grin. "After I had shown the message in the other locket to Sirius, he instantly jumped to his feet and ran for the drawing room. The locket we had been seeking had been hidden at Grimmauld Place all this time. I just wish I had shown it to him sooner."
"So how many does that leave now sir?" Harry asked, trying to picture the objects in his head.
"Well, as we have already seen to the diary, the ring, and now the locket, we still have another three to go, the final piece resting within Voldemort himself. Thankfully, I already have a lead on the whereabouts of Hufflepuff's cup, but as for the other two…"
Harry remembered Dumbledore telling him his suspicions that the other two Horcruxes were either something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's (but, as there were no known items in existence that belonged to Ravenclaw, it was more likely to be something of Gryffindor's – the sword or the hat) and, possibly, the snake, Nagini, that Voldemort kept with him at all times.
"Well," said Harry, thinking over that, "At least we're half way through now."
"We are indeed," smiled Dumbledore. "And since we are growing ever closer to defeating Voldemort once and for all, I think it is time for you to learn to how to kill him."
Harry's smile vanished and he stared at the old man. "You…you mean…kill...as in, kill him?"
Dumbledore smiled a soft, sympathetic smile. "I know it doesn't seem humane to know such a curse," he said, "but it is necessary. You knew that somewhere along the line that this moment would come Harry. And I know it will take some getting used to, there's no doubt about that – this is an extremely dark, harsh, and advanced piece of magic. But without it…" he trailed off, looking at Harry.
Harry knew he couldn't complain. Dumbledore had explained to him earlier on that he would be learning the dark arts but with everything that had happened he had simply forgotten. Every time he had thought about the war and how he would be killing the Dark Lord he hadn't pictured the killing curse being a part of it – stupid really.
Harry looked back at the Headmaster and nodded, showing he understood.
After the lesson was over, Harry slowly made his way back up to Gryffindor Tower. The lesson hadn't been as bad as Harry had thought it would be after Dumbledore had announced that he would be teaching him the killing curse. They was a lot of theory to learn about the 'Avada Kedavra' curse so they had spent most of the lesson talking and discussing the amount of power, will, and emotion that should be put behind the spell. Indeed, it required a hell of a lot of concentration and the caster had to process the desire to kill. All in all, the curse was pure evil and Harry seriously doubted whether or not he would be able to perform it.
Running over everything Dumbledore had said in their lesson, Harry almost didn't notice the sweep of long, black robes up ahead of him as a figure rounded a corner. Almost certain of who those robes belonged to, Harry rushed up along the corridor after him.
"Professor!" Harry called out, running after the man; Snape acted as though he hadn't heard Harry calling and continued on his way, but Harry wasn't letting him go this time – this time he really did have him all to himself.
"Professor Snape, wait!" he called out again. He caught up to the teacher who was forced to stop. Harry heard him inhale a long, strong breath through his nose before he turned to face him.
"What is it Potter? I haven't got time to stand around all night," he snapped.
"Professor, we need to talk."
A/N: Firstly, I'm sorry that this chapter was so short. And secondly, I'm sorry that I wasn't able to update both my fics as soon as I had promised to do. Settling in to University was a lot harder than I thought it would be. And since its freashers week and theres been like a party every single night I haven't found time to get on the internet or have been too drunk to get on the internet. Such is life at Uni. But I'm all settled, sober, and ready to go! Woo!
Thank you all for your patience and reviews!
