Title: The Art of Necromancy
Author: Artemis Luna Diana
E-Mail: artemislunadiana@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry/Severus
Time: begins right after GoF
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts to spend the summer. Out of sheer boredom, he scours the library for books to read and stumbles across a book that will change his life…
Disclaimer: I own not a thing
WARNING!!!! THIS IS A SLASH STORY!!!! IF YOU DON'T LIKE SLASH OR THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!
Chapter Thirteen: The Term Begins
Snape stared down at his desk. The immediate working area was bare; he was only staring at wood. His chin resting idly on one hand while the other tapped out of soft rhythm on the dark wood. He'd been awake since four, but had only been sitting as he was for an hour. An hour that Harry would have normally been present for. His gaze shifted to his hand, and he frowned as he noticed the tapping. His hand stilled, and he straightened. It was ridiculous! He was a grown man of forty years! He'd been living on his own since he was eighteen! He should be more than able to begin his day without seeing that dratted boy in his dungeons!
He stood abruptly and did his best not to stomp to his cupboards. He pulled the doors open and began removing ingredients. Poppy was harping him about the dwindling medical potions in the infirmary, and now was as good a time as any to begin replenishing the medi-witch's stores.
He hadn't been at his task for more than a few minutes when a discreet knock sounded on his door. "Enter," he snarled without coming away from his cabinets. He heard the door open and then close, but his guest wasn't speaking. He looked over, ready to berate Albus for disturbing him, when he saw it was none other than Harry Potter: the bane of his existence. His shocked look was instantly replaced with a sneer. "Potter. Here to make a nuisance of yourself?"
Harry studied him for a moment before sitting down at Snape's desk. He glanced at the bare surface. "Late start?"
Snape glared at him. "What do you want?"
"I come here every morning, why would today be any different?" Harry asked calmly.
Snape didn't reply, only watched his guest with a veiled look in his eyes.
"I don't regret what happened yesterday," Harry said, his eyes locked with Snape's.
"You don't regret your godfather disowning you? That is what he did isn't it?"
Harry's gaze fell to the floor in an attempt to conceal the hurt the words had brought. "Albus spoke to you then?" Snape said nothing. Harry looked up again. "It is true though. I don't regret kissing you."
"Forgive me if I don't believe you," Snape sneered. He stared at the Necromancer, wondering how he could possibly not regret what had happened.
"But," Harry continued as though Snape had not spoken. "Since I know that it makes you uncomfortable," he shot a look at the Potions professor. "At least, now anyway," Harry stood. "I promise not to kiss you again…"
Snape was waging an inner-war. On one hand, he was pleased that Harry was giving up. That meant he won. Sort of. On the other hand, he was disappointed because he'd enjoyed Harry's efforts to bed him. And if he was honest with himself, he had been looking forward to the deed. There was no doubt in his mind that Harry would have eventually succeeded. He nearly missed Harry's next words.
"Until you ask me to."
Snape blinked. "What?"
Harry walked forward until he was only a few inches away from the confused Potions Master. "I said, I won't kiss you again until you ask me to." His voice had deepened slightly with arousal.
Snape felt a shiver run down his spine and glared at the Necromancer. "I will never ask."
A predatory smile spread across Harry's face. "We'll see." He leaned in a bit and felt the older man's breath on his lips. He hovered there a moment, before abruptly backing away.
Snape couldn't prevent the flash of disappointment that went across his face and glared at Harry's knowing smirk.
***
{3 days later}
Neither Harry nor Snape attended the Welcoming Feast. Neither was expected by the students and would raise more questions than comfortable. Instead their 'introductions' would wait until class time. Snape sat in his office watching Harry pouring over a text on ancient truth serums. The sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins would be arriving for class in a few moments. It wasn't something he was looking forward to. Not only would he have to deal with the traditional mess pairing the two feuding house together provided, but that particular class also housed: Longbottom the Hopeless, Weasley, and Granger. While Harry Potter sat in his office enjoying his book, he would be teaching the dunderheads once more. Their private lessons wouldn't begin for another week. Snape scowled.
Harry glanced up at him, and they stared at each other a moment. Harry's gaze softened with a slight smile of encouragement. Snape snorted and stalked out of the room. As if he needed encouragement. Before he closed the door, he heard a distinct giggle and had to fight to keep from smiling. That boy was impossible. How dare he put him in a good mood for that bratty class? Snape fixed his sneer in place and flung open the door of the classroom.
***
Ron set his Potions equipment up on the far back table. He glanced at Hermione. She was setting up her own equipment next to Neville's. He sighed slightly as Lavender sat down beside him. It wasn't that he didn't like her, it was just that she wasn't Hermione and she wasn't Harry. He missed his two best friends. Hermione hadn't been the same since Harry disappeared, and truth to tell, neither had he. It was hard being the duo of a former trio. Unfortunately, Harry had been the glue that held them together. It seemed like all they did anymore was argue, and it wasn't the silly arguments you forgave ten minutes after they occurred. It was the nasty arguments that took weeks to forgive.
Ron rested his chin in his hands. At least there was one good thing: Snape no longer taught Potions. And if the Welcoming Feast was anything to go by, he no longer resided at Hogwarts either.
The students were all present and accounted for, but Professor Hebblelott was missing. Ron glanced over at Hermione again just as she did the same. "Where do you think she is?" he asked loud enough for her to hear.
Hermione shrugged. "She's already five minutes late. Do you think something happened to her?"
The door of the class crashed open, and the students jumped. The crash was reminiscent of when Snape was the Potions professor, and they all turned to see why Professor Hebblelott was flinging doors open. Instead of seeing the diminutive witch, they saw the tall, forbidding Potions Master of old: Snape.
He stalked into the room. The students were stunned. The last time they had seen Snape, he'd barely been able to walk and couldn't see for shit. Yet, there he stood at the front of the class, glaring at them all through good eyes and standing on two perfectly good legs. Not too mention the long-fingered hands were restored to their original shape.
As a whole, the class cringed under his glare. The Gryffindors were reminded of years past and the Slytherins were assured that with his status as a spy revealed, he'd not be so lenient with them.
"We will begin with a test. I need to know what that twit managed to teach you before we proceed any further."
Hermione raised a trembling hand.
"Put your hand down, Granger!"
Hermione's hand dropped.
Ron swallowed. He hadn't thought things could get any worse. He had been very wrong. But at least, since they were now six-feet under, things really couldn't get any worse.
***
"I spoke with Zabini."
"And?" Harry prompted.
"Despite the fact that he's never shown an interest in becoming a follower of Voldemort and he still attends school…"
"In Slytherin, you never know who you can really trust," Harry finished. Snape and Harry stared at each other. "Let's wait a little longer. We can go ahead and start teaching the others and see what happens with Zabini."
"Isn't there some Necromancer trick you can use?" Snape goaded.
"No. I can't read minds," Harry replied mildly.
Snape snorted.
Harry smiled. "Why? Do you wish I could read yours?"
"Most certainly not!"
***
TBC…
A/N: okay… I'm posting this early once more. What can I say? I'm very nice. I think that it's going to end up being that I'll post as often as I feel like it, but at least once a week. Sometimes the story flows and other times I take naps.
I wanted to answer one question also. Someone asked (and did not leave a name btw, shame on you!) how long the story was going to be. My reply: At the moment, it's not very long, is it dragging or something? I never post a chapter with less than a thousand words, though most are around 1500 or over. Since those are pretty short chapters, I post often and the number of chapters will probably be high. Not too high of course, but I don't plan my stories out by chapters, I plan by events. There are still a lot of events left to occur before the end is reached. So once more, is the story dragging? I'm trying to balance out the romance with the necromancy and the emotions of the other characters. I don't want to overlook anything. I don't like having loose ends. So, opinions please?
I've created a Yahoo! Group since I might decide to do an NC-17 chapter and with all the policy changes in FF.Net, I figured it was a good idea anyway. I've posted all my fics there and will post sneak peeks of fics there as well. Also, fics I'm working on but haven't deemed ready to post will be up there so that I can ask for opinions.
Here's the link:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HuntressSmiles/
~Artemis Luna Diana~