Author's Note: This is my longest story to date since it will run nearly 40 chapters when completely posted. Since I don't have anyone running around taking polyjuice pretending to be Moody, it is still considerably shorter than the original book written by JK Rowling.

xxxx

Private Lessons

After his last class of the day, Harry went to Professor Snape's office to ask about testing his potions. Professor Snape greeted Harry at the door like he was watching him through the portrait. "You haven't been auditing my class lately. Are you here for private lessons?" Snape snapped.

"If your busy schedule allows. I was going to ask if I could test my potions in class, so I would know if I was doing them correctly," Harry said.

"Would you like to join me for dinner at my quarters?" Professor Snape asked. "We both need to eat."

Harry thought that was a bit forward. He wanted to take a step back and take a deep breath, but that would be rude.

"No threats or foul language," Snape teased.

"I'm a student," Harry stuttered.

"I don't care much for this charade." Snape walked toward his desk. "Come in and take a seat. We'll talk man to man."

"You're right. We both have to eat." Harry hoped that Snape didn't see how nervous he was.

"That Skeeter woman is so wrong." Snape's deep voice oozed sex. "You aren't Quirrell. He did nothing for me. You make that body something special."

Harry stepped completely inside the office but didn't take a chair. "You're a bit out of line."

"You came to see me." Snape sat down in the large chair behind his desk. "So you want private lessons."

"I'll test my potions during my regularly schedule classes," Harry stated. He wondered if he was stuttering or did it just feel that way.

"You'd have to hurry to get to the Great Hall." Snape stretched out in his chair.

"We'll just have dinner," Harry stammered.

"Potions are marvellous things." Snape stood up and walked over to Harry, who was still standing just inside the door.

"I'd like to learn all that I once knew about potions." Harry took a slow deep breath.

Professor Snape wasn't what most would call attractive, and his personal hygiene left much to be desired.

"Could a potion restore my face?" Harry asked, not that he was vain, but shit was on his mind and he was too afraid to research such things on his own. He could always claim that he inserted his foot in his mouth due to his nerves. He didn't conceive that Severus Snape would be interested in him in a rather personal way.

"I heard about your experiments with Polyjuice Potion. If you want to look like Harry Potter for the Daily Prophet, you will have to stew your own lacewings." Severus's voice told him he wasn't interested lacewings. "I have no prepared ones for you to steal."

"Fix my nose and cheek. Ms. Skeeter's biting remarks made me think about things. Moody wears his scars proudly and I'm ashamed." Harry made those marks himself trying to get Quirrell to release him; they were permanent reminders of his fight with Quirrell.

"I'll mix you a drink." Snape touched Harry's arm. "You look like you could use something stronger than tea."

"I'm not ready for this." Harry pulled away from the taller man.

"It's only dinner. We could eat at the Three Broomsticks if that makes you more comfortable."

Harry told himself not to panic, but it wasn't helping. A professor that acted like he hated him was clearly making sexual advances to him. Harry wished he had Snape's gift of Legilimency. He wanted to be sure of the other man's intentions.

Professor Snape said, "Alohomora." The door opened. "Let's go. We can talk in the corridor. Do you really write your mum every week?"

"Yes, I also write a girl I met at the World Cup. She lives Across the Pond."

"Is this girl you write pretty?"

"I suppose. Her black hair is bushier than Hermione's; she has fashion sense comparable to Luna, and she can talk for hours without any encouragement."

"Sounds lovely."

"She knows where my interest lies. She kept pushing me in the direction of leather-clad Brazilian men. I danced with several men that spoke no English, but how their bodies talked." Harry laughed. "She was cool about it. A man for her and two men for me."

"I arrived the two days before and left two days after. Missed all the good parties."

"Sirius has this fear about being around strangers," said Harry. "He only became human in the Great Hall once when his cousin Dora wanted to talk to him. He stayed a dog the whole time we were at the World Cup, even missed the game because he was tied to a pole."

"I don't like the man. He tried to kill me once."

Harry started to walk away. "I'll talk to someone else. I have two letters to write. What was I thinking?"

Severus ran after Harry. "I know you worry about your godfather. Remus can care for him."

Harry shook his head. "Remus needs Sirius to be a dog because of his condition."

"One night a month." Severus took Harry's hand in his. "Sirius spends more time as a dog than human. We'll have dinner at Three Broomsticks then you go off to write your letters. We don't even have to kiss if you don't want."

The dinner was surprisingly pleasant. Severus was ugly enough to have this charm about him. The man was intelligent and witty. Harry could see himself falling in love with him. They walked to the Gyffindor dorm and stood for several seconds in front of The Fat Lady. They couldn't kiss because the paintings were terrible gossips.

Harry said, "Sev, I have letters to write and I can't tell the Head of Slytherin the Gryffindor password. It wouldn't be right."

"Good night, then." Severus walked back to the stairs and headed down to his dungeons. Harry watched as the figure in black vanished out of view.

"Harry has a crush on teacher," said the fat lady.

"I do not," said Harry. "Fiddlesticks."

The fat lady let him inside.

Harry liked last month's password better, "Cow dung." Someone was bound to guess "Fiddlesticks." Who came up with these things anyway? Harry wrote his letters to his mum and Alisha. In his letter to Alisha, he wrote about his date with Severus and his doubts about seeing him again.

Harry waited until morning to drop off his letters. While Harry at the owlery, Hermione gave her letters to one of the Hogwarts owls.

"You're awful chipper this morning," said she. "I would think after Skeeter's article you would be down in the mouth. I know you told Ron he would be the second to know, but you know what they say about the early bird."

Harry watched the owls fly off with his letters. "There's no one. I promised Sirius I would practice flying this morning."

"Harry, you're a lousy lair." Hermione looked him in the eye. She needed to stand on her toes a bit to get the full effect since she was a few centimetres shorter than him.

"I lied better in my old body," Harry admitted. "This one tends to squirm when confronted. I'm writing a girl in American. I told you about her. I was rereading her letter last night."

Hermione said in that singsong voice reserved for teasing, "Harry has a pen pal."

"Happy?" Harry started to head out to the courtyard. He would need to see if he could summon his broom from storage. He had a tournament to train for. Sirius wanted him to practice flying on the days he didn't run.

Hermione followed. "You told Alisha you're bi. So she's willing to share you with men?"

Ignoring the question, Harry took out his wand. "Accio Firebolt."

The broom flew to his hand.

"Not bad," Hermione huffed. "You could have just got it from storage. No need to show off."