Chapter Two; Unexpected
Harry climbed off the broom. The ride had been very long and almost as painful and he was sure his butt was going to stay as numb as it was for ages. And he was certain he was walking funny. Looking across at Snape, he realized the older man wasn't walking funny - Harry came to the conclusion he must have a rock hard arse, or he'd charmed the broomstick.
Why he'd insisted ont his method of travel Harry didn't know. It took forever and they'd have to wait for their luggage to be bought along later. He'd asked if Hedwig was allowed to fly alongside but had got another death glare and had been forced to shove the protesting bird back in her cage.
The boy wasn't sure what he had been expecting Snape's house to be like, a mansion maybe, somewhere in the city - but he found himself in front of a small, pokey country cottage with flowers around the door and under one window. What looked like herbs - magical ones - grew on one side of the path, and what appeared to be a rather large black and purple mushroom on the other side. The cottage itself was a mock-tudor, white walls with heavy black beams and a thatched roof. It was pretty. Calming, even. It was so the opposite of Snape that Harry stifled a giggle.
The man ahead of him whipped around and gave him a scorching glare. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Harry said, biting his lip. He looked nonchalantly back at him for a second, then the door swung open.
"Leave your broom by the door," Snape instructed, then stepped in front of the doorway as Harry looked inside. "There are some rules you need to know. One, stay out of my way. Two, touch nothing. Three, take nothing. Four, ask nothing."
"Five, breathe nothing," Harry said, deadpan. Snape glared so violently Harry was sure he was going to explode.
"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," Snape eventually replied haughtily. "But remember, you're not in school any more, Potter, and that means some of the rules that applied there don't apply here." A dramatic pause. "I suggest you be careful."
Then he swooped inside. What a delightful vision. What a passionate man. What a complete and utter prat.
Harry gave his retreating form the finger and went inside, shutting the door behind him. It suddenly got very dark - there wern't many windows. Harry walked into what must have been the lounge. He'd expected it to be bare, sparsley furnished, but he found a forest-green painted room with two black leather couches, a huge black fluffy rug, and a roaring fire. How long had that been alight, Harry wondered. Bit of a fire hazard, especially with the rug so close and the building having huge black wooden beams and low ceilings. This was a side to Snape he'd never seen. It was cozy, warm, smelt of flowers, of Aunt Petunia - he shuddered even though it was warm - then snorted with laughter. He would have never of guessed Snape lived in a place like this.
"Care to share the joke?" Snape asked coldly, coming up behind Harry.
"Um...." Harry shook with surpressed mirth.
"Potter....." Snape said warningly.
Time to come clean. "I would have never of guessed you lived in a place like this, that's all," he said lightly. Harry stared back at him. He was so handsome. Unconventionally, or course, but there was no denying there was a form of beauty in there. And he was standing so close as well - he was sure it was meant to intimidate him, but it had the opposite effect. Harry had the sudden urge to launch himself at him.
Snape broke the silence. "It's late. You're room's upstairs on the left. Don't disturb me." Then he went into the lounge and took one of the many books off the walls - potions, Harry realized. How mundane. The older man sat on the rug, between the sofa and the fire.
"I'm not tired," he protested. Snape looked up. He hadn't expected interruption.
"Unless you want to sit here reading potions books there's no other option," the potions master informed him. Harry thought for a second, then sat down opposite Snape, taking out a book from the wall. He looked at the pages without reading the words.
***
Severus Snape glared angrily at the page. He knew if he glared at the boy he'd look up, and judging by his current insolent streak he'd probably think of a witty retort. What a complete imbecile. And the boy kept looking at him. Studying him. Inspecting him. He was so like James . A tentacle of regret pierced his heart. Don't think about it, he scolded himself. Don't think about it and it'll go away.
They had the same green eyes.
Don't! he warned himself. He closed his eyes. It was over before he died anyway. Another tentacle. Please don't look up again, Harry, please don't.
Harry looked up. Snape closed his eyes. When he opened them Harry was still there. The same Harry. The same dark hair and green eyes. He slammed the book shut and went to bed.
***
Harry was woken by screams.
Loud heartbreaking screams. Dudley? No, he reminded himself as he looked around. He was in Snape's house. It had to be Snape.
Creeping along the barely-lit floorboards he found the source of the screaming. It came from the door hidden in the shadows at the end of the corridor. Bracing himself, he turned the knob and went inside.
Instantly the screams sounded louder. The room was lit by a candle near the head of the bed that cast eerie shadows along the walls and highlighted the curled figure on the bed. Harry stepped forward.
"Snape?" he asked tentatively. He was scared. Really scared. This shoudln't be allowed to happen to him - he'd never had to deal with an upset adult before. It should be out of his hands. But it wasn't, he reminded himself sourly, and he was the one who had to deal with it.
He was close enough to reach a hand out. He put his hand on the man's shoulder, felt the cool alabaster skin tremble under his touch before the thrashing continued. Harry shot back against the wardrobes at the back of the room. This was worse than anything. This was total and utter confusion. He was scared shitless. Who knows what a full-grown man might do in this state?
Snape became calmer. The screams reduced to whimpers, the sheet stopped moving manically. Itt fell from his tight grip and Harry could see a finely muscled chest and felt his heartbeat rise - no, he reprimanded himself. This was neither the time nor the place.
"Snape?"
No answer. His voice was shaky. The man's arm moved and he saw the Dark Mark for one horrifying moment before it was covered by a fold in the sheet.
"Severus?"
A moan. It was almost a reply. Harry stepped forward, reached his hand out to touch his shoulder again. He resisted the touch, moving backwards.
"Goayjays" The man on the bed murmured. Harry blinked.
"What?"
"Goway! Goway!" Snape cried, his voice getting louder and louder, his eyes wide as if seeing something beyond Harry. "GO AWAY JAMES!"
Harry fled.
****
This chapter was written by Laura, aka Yuffie!
Ner. How weird. Snapie poos has night-terrors. Poor babe.
Hope you enjoyed. If so, review!
I'll promise to get Mandy to lighten up on the next chapter, i promise. Special thanks to Wil for helping me with this chappie.
Yuffie the Rickmanaic, Thing in The Corner.
Harry climbed off the broom. The ride had been very long and almost as painful and he was sure his butt was going to stay as numb as it was for ages. And he was certain he was walking funny. Looking across at Snape, he realized the older man wasn't walking funny - Harry came to the conclusion he must have a rock hard arse, or he'd charmed the broomstick.
Why he'd insisted ont his method of travel Harry didn't know. It took forever and they'd have to wait for their luggage to be bought along later. He'd asked if Hedwig was allowed to fly alongside but had got another death glare and had been forced to shove the protesting bird back in her cage.
The boy wasn't sure what he had been expecting Snape's house to be like, a mansion maybe, somewhere in the city - but he found himself in front of a small, pokey country cottage with flowers around the door and under one window. What looked like herbs - magical ones - grew on one side of the path, and what appeared to be a rather large black and purple mushroom on the other side. The cottage itself was a mock-tudor, white walls with heavy black beams and a thatched roof. It was pretty. Calming, even. It was so the opposite of Snape that Harry stifled a giggle.
The man ahead of him whipped around and gave him a scorching glare. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Harry said, biting his lip. He looked nonchalantly back at him for a second, then the door swung open.
"Leave your broom by the door," Snape instructed, then stepped in front of the doorway as Harry looked inside. "There are some rules you need to know. One, stay out of my way. Two, touch nothing. Three, take nothing. Four, ask nothing."
"Five, breathe nothing," Harry said, deadpan. Snape glared so violently Harry was sure he was going to explode.
"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," Snape eventually replied haughtily. "But remember, you're not in school any more, Potter, and that means some of the rules that applied there don't apply here." A dramatic pause. "I suggest you be careful."
Then he swooped inside. What a delightful vision. What a passionate man. What a complete and utter prat.
Harry gave his retreating form the finger and went inside, shutting the door behind him. It suddenly got very dark - there wern't many windows. Harry walked into what must have been the lounge. He'd expected it to be bare, sparsley furnished, but he found a forest-green painted room with two black leather couches, a huge black fluffy rug, and a roaring fire. How long had that been alight, Harry wondered. Bit of a fire hazard, especially with the rug so close and the building having huge black wooden beams and low ceilings. This was a side to Snape he'd never seen. It was cozy, warm, smelt of flowers, of Aunt Petunia - he shuddered even though it was warm - then snorted with laughter. He would have never of guessed Snape lived in a place like this.
"Care to share the joke?" Snape asked coldly, coming up behind Harry.
"Um...." Harry shook with surpressed mirth.
"Potter....." Snape said warningly.
Time to come clean. "I would have never of guessed you lived in a place like this, that's all," he said lightly. Harry stared back at him. He was so handsome. Unconventionally, or course, but there was no denying there was a form of beauty in there. And he was standing so close as well - he was sure it was meant to intimidate him, but it had the opposite effect. Harry had the sudden urge to launch himself at him.
Snape broke the silence. "It's late. You're room's upstairs on the left. Don't disturb me." Then he went into the lounge and took one of the many books off the walls - potions, Harry realized. How mundane. The older man sat on the rug, between the sofa and the fire.
"I'm not tired," he protested. Snape looked up. He hadn't expected interruption.
"Unless you want to sit here reading potions books there's no other option," the potions master informed him. Harry thought for a second, then sat down opposite Snape, taking out a book from the wall. He looked at the pages without reading the words.
***
Severus Snape glared angrily at the page. He knew if he glared at the boy he'd look up, and judging by his current insolent streak he'd probably think of a witty retort. What a complete imbecile. And the boy kept looking at him. Studying him. Inspecting him. He was so like James . A tentacle of regret pierced his heart. Don't think about it, he scolded himself. Don't think about it and it'll go away.
They had the same green eyes.
Don't! he warned himself. He closed his eyes. It was over before he died anyway. Another tentacle. Please don't look up again, Harry, please don't.
Harry looked up. Snape closed his eyes. When he opened them Harry was still there. The same Harry. The same dark hair and green eyes. He slammed the book shut and went to bed.
***
Harry was woken by screams.
Loud heartbreaking screams. Dudley? No, he reminded himself as he looked around. He was in Snape's house. It had to be Snape.
Creeping along the barely-lit floorboards he found the source of the screaming. It came from the door hidden in the shadows at the end of the corridor. Bracing himself, he turned the knob and went inside.
Instantly the screams sounded louder. The room was lit by a candle near the head of the bed that cast eerie shadows along the walls and highlighted the curled figure on the bed. Harry stepped forward.
"Snape?" he asked tentatively. He was scared. Really scared. This shoudln't be allowed to happen to him - he'd never had to deal with an upset adult before. It should be out of his hands. But it wasn't, he reminded himself sourly, and he was the one who had to deal with it.
He was close enough to reach a hand out. He put his hand on the man's shoulder, felt the cool alabaster skin tremble under his touch before the thrashing continued. Harry shot back against the wardrobes at the back of the room. This was worse than anything. This was total and utter confusion. He was scared shitless. Who knows what a full-grown man might do in this state?
Snape became calmer. The screams reduced to whimpers, the sheet stopped moving manically. Itt fell from his tight grip and Harry could see a finely muscled chest and felt his heartbeat rise - no, he reprimanded himself. This was neither the time nor the place.
"Snape?"
No answer. His voice was shaky. The man's arm moved and he saw the Dark Mark for one horrifying moment before it was covered by a fold in the sheet.
"Severus?"
A moan. It was almost a reply. Harry stepped forward, reached his hand out to touch his shoulder again. He resisted the touch, moving backwards.
"Goayjays" The man on the bed murmured. Harry blinked.
"What?"
"Goway! Goway!" Snape cried, his voice getting louder and louder, his eyes wide as if seeing something beyond Harry. "GO AWAY JAMES!"
Harry fled.
****
This chapter was written by Laura, aka Yuffie!
Ner. How weird. Snapie poos has night-terrors. Poor babe.
Hope you enjoyed. If so, review!
I'll promise to get Mandy to lighten up on the next chapter, i promise. Special thanks to Wil for helping me with this chappie.
Yuffie the Rickmanaic, Thing in The Corner.