Eerily Yours

by Icarus

For several days, Severus avoided Harry. The only time Harry saw him was at meals and in Potions class. After a hissed warning to 'be discreet!' Harry stopped glancing at him all the time, though it was hard to stop. He looked so different now. Severus seemed to even walk differently, to Harry's eyes at least. Harry really wondered what on earth was going on in that complicated mind. He had a feeling that the longer this went on, the less likely Harry would ever see him again. Other than in classes, of course.

Unsurprisingly, Harry was not called to any more Dark Arts classes. Harry was relieved on the one hand. Aside from being bad at Dark Magic, he was feeling a little… bruised. Harry was sure that if a Dark Arts book floated into his room, opened itself to a page, and showed him the spell that would give him whatever he wanted most in the world: he would walk away.

On the other hand the Dark Arts class was his only legitimate excuse to be alone with Severus. He suspected that was the real reason the class was on hold. Harry was getting annoyed with the man. And a little discouraged.

Once a week passed, Harry began to comb his mind for discreet ways to contact Severus. So far though, he drew a blank. Hiding it from the other students didn't seem too much a problem. After peppering him with questions and being unsatisfied with answers, most of the other Gryffindors left him alone and dropped it. But Professor McGonagall suspected about the accident, Harry was sure.

"It is good to see you again. Are you well, Mr. Potter?" she asked him after Transfigurations one afternoon. Her glance was penetrating.

"Uh… um - yeah. I'm fine." Harry blushed, really hoping that glance couldn't see as much as it seemed to.

McGonagall's lips made a firm, thin line.

"I see," she said, and dismissed him. But Harry felt her gaze lingering on his back as he walked down the corridor towards his next class.

None of his friends bought his excuses, and they seemed a little jumbled even to himself. Hermione was giving Harry some definitely odd glances. But Ron had his own suspicions, and pulled him aside later.

"It was those Dark Arts classes, wasn't it?" Ron knew him well. Harry sagged and nodded, relieved to be able to tell the truth for once. Or, well - at least part of it.

"That stuff's bloody dangerous! Especially with Snape for a teacher. I dunno, Harry. If it gets bad - you should talk to Dumbledore." Ron nodded at his own suggestion emphatically.

That was probably the last thing Harry wanted to do.

But Ron had given him an idea. Harry began hanging back a little after Potions. If Severus didn't take advantage of that opportunity to talk to him, he was going to make some spectacular trouble in Potions class. Severus would have to give him detention. Harry had already picked out Malfoy as his target, figuring it might as well be someone who deserved it.

Then something happened to change his plans. As Harry walked back from Herbology, he felt someone brush by him. He turned, and met the black eyes of Severus Snape, looking back at him. The eyes heated for moment as they caught Harry's. Then Severus continued on as though nothing had happened.

But later, outside the Library, Harry happened to reach into his pocket. He felt something crinkle there. A letter of some sort. On the outside it read in a flowing script:

"Please open only once you are alone."

Harry couldn't imagine why that would be, so he opened it there in the hallway. He had the immediate impression of warm lips pressed against his own, their touch long, deep and slow. There was a familiar skillful nip at the end marking the note as being from Severus. Harry caught his breath after a moment. Then he realized that Genevieve, a Ravenclaw, had just stepped out of the library. And was staring at him. Harry's lips stopped moving in empty air. A knob from a window where he had been backed up against the wall was digging into his back.

"Uh…. hi," Harry said awkwardly, trying to recover himself. She gave him an odd look as she left.

There were a few giggles when he arrived for double Potions later, and Professor Snape made an especial point to remind the class on the importance of following directions.

Wow. Severus certainly had a great way of sending mash notes! Harry decided he just had to learn how to do that. It was untraceable. If you didn't know whose kiss it was - first hand. Brilliant.

Later in his bedroom, Harry opened the note again, hoping it wasn't a one-shot Spell. Wonderfully, it wasn't. And it was better now that he was over the surprise and could enjoy all the subtleties. Harry spent a long time savoring it, adding embellishments to his time with Severus in his mind. He didn't realize he had drifted off to sleep, until he heard Ron come in. Harry didn't see the note still laying out on the blanket.

Ron plucked it off the bed, "what's this?" and opened it.

"Give it back - !" Harry snatched it out of Ron's hands. Too late.

"Whoa…" Ron breathed, "who's that from?"

Was Harry imagining it, or was Ron a little jealous? Harry hoped he was jealous. At least a little. He certainly deserved it. Harry glanced at Ron over the edge of the folded note. Could someone tell if they were being kissed by a man? Harry supposed not. Or at least it certainly seemed Ron couldn't.

"Who? Who is that?" Ron rolled his eyes and pleaded, "C'mon - just tell me… a little hint?"

Harry blinked. Not on his life.

"At least you know who I'm seeing!"

Harry spluttered, "Oh, yeah - I sure do! First hand." Ron exploded.

"You all think that more happened than really did!" Ron looked around cautiously. "Look, Hermione… we didn't, you know - do anything."

Harry looked at Ron quizzically. "Have you ever - you know? Done anything?"

Ron sat on the bed in silent frustration. Harry fell back into his pillow, laughing.

"Oh, Ron… I'm sorry. How long has it been? It's been months and months, hasn't it?"

Ron groaned and fell over on his side. "It's worse than you think. She waits until the last second - then she says no!"

"You should have stuck with me," Harry shook his head. He felt sorry for Ron, though he thought privately that given it was Hermione, he wasn't a bit surprised. He decided not to say so though. Ron looked frustrated enough.

"Would you like to borrow the book?" Harry offered helpfully. He felt suddenly guilty, thinking that, well, it did belong to Severus after all. He should give it back.

"I'd like to borrow whoever sent you that note!"

Harry kind of doubted that, although he had the momentary amusing image of the two of them suddenly face to face, in shock.

"Have you - have you ever… with?" Ron motioned with his shoulder to the note.

Harry hesitated. He decided to tell Ron the truth, or as much of it as he could anyway.

"Yes."

"I'm gonna kill Hermione!" Ron pounded the pillow. "If I don't completely explode first."

"It's really not a big deal, Ron," Harry told him. But that didn't seem to help at all.

"Have you asked her what she wants?" Harry said, thoughtful, thinking of some of Severus' more embarrassing questions. Sometimes a more experienced perspective… Severus had made fun of him, declared Harry an 'incurable romantic' - until Harry pointed out his reading choices. "That's not romanticism, that is sensationalism. To that, I admit, I am incurable. A complete addict for sensation." Harry wished there were something he could send back to surprise Severus.

"She doesn't know what she wants!" Ron fumed, bringing Harry back to the present.

"Oh. Uh - yes. But I'll bet you haven't asked, have you?"

Ron must have told Hermione (of course, what didn't he tell her?), because the next day at breakfast, she pointed out: "That is a very advanced spell, Harry, to enchant a piece of paper like that. Who's it from?"

Apparently Ron had not brought up any of the more important advice Harry had given.

"Do you know how to do it?" Harry was suddenly hopeful. Maybe he could at least find out where this spell came from…

"No. I mean, it's very complicated you see…."

"Oh." Harry turned aside. "That's too bad."

Harry had really wanted to send one back. But if even Hermione couldn't do it, it was doubtful he could either. There were definite drawbacks to having a teacher for a lover. Harry ignored the rest of what Ron and Hermione had to say, trying to think of some answer to this letter. They finally gave up on holding his attention.

"He's in love," Ron said with disgust.

The torch flickered in the scull holder in Severus' office in the upstairs teachers' hall. It was very late, past ten o'clock. As usual, Severus Snape was the last to leave. Professor Sprout tended to be the morning type, while Flickwick kept odd hours. Minerva McGonagall you could set your watch by - in at eight, gone by five. Not a minute later. How she did it no one knew. Severus tended to do his paperwork here, while the side chamber to the Potions dungeon he used for his practical research, and the occasional detention victims. (Well, less than occasional. It saved him the bother of scrubbing his own cauldrons to be liberal with detentions.) Potions didn't usually mix well with anything that had to be kept clean, and that included homework, unfortunately. Not that some of these couldn't be improved by a little snail's tongue or a drop of Exploding Potion, in his opinion.

It was handy that his scull caused any torch set in it to never go out, Severus thought, considering that he had a never-ending supply of work. Albus Dumbledore had somehow neglected to mention this was a more than full-time job when he offered it to Severus. Not that a former Death-Eater had many options at the time.

Severus glanced over at his diminishing stack of scrolls. Good god, look at the girth of that one. It had to be from Granger. He had asked for fourteen inches, not forty-four. Did she think he had all night to be impressed by her amateur opinions on Expansion Potions? He yawned and was just deciding he wasn't going to finish these tonight, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

The door to his office slowly edged open, silently, of its own accord. Severus watched, unmoving. His wand ready. Something brushed by the right-hand corner of his desk, nearly knocking a stack of parchment onto the floor. These were quickly caught, and shoved back into place.

Well. He had a well-meaning visitor at least.

Then suddenly Severus felt a pressure against his lips, and he melted into a feverish kiss. It had the boyish enthusiasm and lack of skill he recognized instantly, even if he hadn't already caught a familiar musky outdoor scent. Then the kiss broke. And a disembodied head appeared floating in the air in front of him. Harry…. with a most winning, devilish smile. How romantic. Before Severus could think to draw him in for another kiss, he vanished. But not before saying, "Thanks for the note."

The parchment stack stirred again, but seemed to survive Harry's second passing. Then there was muffled voice, "oh, almost forgot…" and a hand with part of a sleeve appeared, and stuffed a dozen red roses into the scull.

"You need some color in here," Harry joked.

The door closed softly behind him. Severus stared after it, bemused.

"Cromium Decoratum!" Severus said, pointing his wand at the roses.

They changed to green. Far be it from him to be caught with Gryffindor colors in his office. Particularly not with the scent of a particular Gryffindor clinging about him still. Severus breathed it in, letting his head fall back. Oh. He set down the quill. His concentration was certainly ruined for the night. But he was going to have sweet dreams, that much was sure.

Finis. Next: 'Soap and Guacamole.'