Chapter Two-The Almost Impossible Task of Drying Off
Snape was stunned. Here it was, two o'clock in the morning, and the bane of his existence had somehow gotten through all of his magical barriers, and fainted in his arms. And to top it all off, he was soaking wet, and missing most of his clothes. Snape sighed in frustration. He knew he should get the boy up to Madam Pomfrey, but if Potter didn't die of hypothermia beforehand, she'd probably berate him about letting the Golden Boy stay in wet clothes. Disappointed that he was so close to getting rid of 'The-Boy-Who-Lived,' Snape gently picked Harry up and, shutting the door with a quiet spell, laid him down on his couch.
"Enervate."
Harry blinked, slowly opening his eyes. Yawning, he reached for his glasses, and not feeling them, realized his wasn't in his room. Even though his vision was blurry, Harry could tell the room was-cozy. There was just enough light to comfortably see, and a warm, crackling fire over to his right. Suddenly a dark figured stepped in front of him, and shoved something warm and fuzzy at his chest. "Here, Potter. Hurry and dry off before you ruin my couch." Harry stared in shock.
"Sn-SNAPE?! What am I doing here?!"
"Professor, to you," Severus snapped, considerably more irritated. "As for why you are in my quarters-wet, I have no clue. I was about to go to sleep, and then you showed up at my door, acting like there was no tomorrow." 'You, about to go to sleep? Ha!' Severus shoved his inner voices away, trying to focus on being mad at Harry, and noticed something had changed. His eyes were blank, void of life, reliving the night.
He and Ron sneaking out of the Burrow with their brooms, and flying to the Malfoy Manor to rescue Draco, Ron's lover, from his sadistic father. He and Ron getting split up, and him ending up in a large study, being confronted by Lucius. The two having a verbal argument; Lucius pinning him to the wall.hands roaming over his body, ripping his clothes.voice, whispering in his ear.the blast from Harry's hand-or so it seemed-sending Lucius across the room.Harry, running out the Manor, through the rain.and finally finding-Snape.
"Potter?" He didn't get a response, so he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Potter. Snap of it. Potter!" Panic shot down his spine, and he shook harder. "Harry!"
Harry's eyes shot open. 'Oh shit, I can't believe I could just-' "Ron!" he shouted, trying to get up, but Snape held him down.
"Oh no, you aren't going gallivanting off with one of your friends at this time," he sneered. "Now, give me some answers." Harry growled at his Professor, and he saw the surprise and anger flare up in his eyes, but not before he glimpsed the fear. 'Why would he, of all people, fear for me?' That intolerable, rude, obnoxious Professor of his-who smelt like herbs, vanilla.and strawberries.
"Hmm. I like strawberries." ' Where'd that come from?'
"Wha-?" Severus sputtered, forgetting that he was mad at him and trying to piece things together. "Potter, are you all right? How many fingers am I holding up?" Harry looked at him funnily.
"Uh.Professor, I can't exactly see-I lost my glasses." Severus stared at him, then, straightening himself, walked over to a bookcase, then back. He handed Harry a pair of glasses that, as he put them on, adjusted to his eyesight. He noticed that the room was even better than he had thought. The walls, when not covered by bookcases, was a deep maroon; the carpet thick, a dark, midnight blue, and when the light hit it just right he could see a large, intricate pattern in black. The couch was black, with silver and midnight blue pillows. It was like a dream, until he saw Snape in front of him, glaring.
"Dry off, Potter. By now, you might get lucky by having only pneumonia, and me a medium scolding by Pomfrey." Harry snorted, and Snape's eyebrows rose ever so slightly. "Then we're going to see Dumbuldore." Harry tried to stand, but his legs gave out beneath him and he started to fall-but Severus caught him, sitting him back on the couch. Harry coughed, his chest heaving with the effort. Snape sighed, picking up the towel. "You are definitely sick." Starting with Harry's chest, he gently started drying him off. Harry tensed, not sure whether to be offended, embarrassed, or bask in the warmth of the black towel. It was quite easy to decide, and he relaxed into the tender strokes. Severus glanced at him, eyes half lidded, and shook his remark away. And noticed the streaks of dried blood on Harry's arm. "Potter, what happened?" Harry looked away from his stare, quickly covering the wounds.
"I.I don't want to talk about it now-please." Harry looked back up at Severus, and the older man could tell it was worse than he had thought. Harry felt as if Snape wasn't looking at him, but through him- past all the barriers and shields he had built up for so long. He was the first to look away, slightly flushed.
"Mr. Potter, as soon as we get you dried off we're going straight to Albus. Pomfrey can attend to you there." Snape continued drying Harry off slowly, and more carefully this time. Harry wondered briefly why Snape didn't just use a simple drying spell, but then again, he wasn't complaining. He leaned into the towel, sighing softly. Severus was a little surprised-he thought the boy would hex him or something, but instead he seemed to be.enjoying it. He gently dried Harry's chest in a slow, circular motion, working his way down, and noted the cruel scratch marks on his body. 'Whoever did this is going to pay' he seethed mentally, an angry scowl darkening his face. Harry noticed how Snape tensed, and was about to comment when Snape started to move towards his lower abdomen. His breath hitched, skin tingling. He felt how close he was to the 'greasy git,' and how he wasn't so bad after all-in fact, he was actually.
"NO!" Harry yelped, pulling away from Snape as fast and as far away as he could manage. Snape stared at Harry, who was blushing furiously, with a 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me' look. "S-Sorry.I just-I just would rather f- finish drying off you-I mean, me-well, myself," Harry stuttered. "Oh bloody hell.I sound like a friggin' first year don't I?.Don't answer that," he added, cutting off Snape's unspoken-unneeded 'Yes, you do.'
"Suit yourself, just hurry it up," Severus replied nonchalantly, getting up and walking to his desk. Harry slowly picked himself up off the couch, wincing, as he held to the arm for support. Severus opened up the top-left drawer of his desk, taking out a small vial. Harry cleared his throat, trying to get his attention.
"What?"
"Um.Professor, I was wondering-" Severus turned back to face him, "do you- have any clothes that I can borrow?" He gestured off-handedly to his tatters. Severus eyed him up and down. Harry had on torn, baggy pants at least ten, twelve sizes too big, and his shirt-or what was left of it, since Snape hadn't even noticed it as he had dried him off, wasn't in any better condition. Snape walked out of the room through a door in between a bookcase and a beautiful tapestry, and returned a few seconds later with a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.
"Here."
"Why Professor, I had no idea you knew what *regular* Muggles wore, unlike most wizards- much less owned a few," Harry commented. Snape sent him a withering glare. "Sorry," he amended weakly, having the decency to look ashamed. "Thanks-achoo!" Harry sneezed, sending him into a fit of chest- racking coughs. He lost his balance, and would have fallen-if Snape hadn't caught him quickly, setting him back down on the couch. He waited impatiently as the coughs subsided.
"Take this Potter," Snape said, brandishing the little vial, "maybe with a Pepper Up potion we'll actually make it somewhere past my soggy, wet couch," emphasizing the 'soggy' and 'wet' parts. Harry took it, his hands shaking slightly, and gulped it down fast before he accidentally dropped it.
"Actually, I was just beginning to become acquainted with the said couch-" Harry received a glare, "-but I guess I can take the separation," he added, grinning playfully. Severus just gaped at him, then dismissed it with a roll of his eyes. He waved at the towel he had used before. "Oh, right." Harry, eyed the towel apprehensively, not wanting to conjure up any of his earlier mental escapades. "Eh-do you think you could do a quick drying spell instead, it might save your couch a few extra years." Severus flushed lightly, remembering that he could've done that since the beginning, and quickly muttered the spell. Then he made his clothes replace Harry's, magically adjusting them to his size.
"Who made those things for you Potter? They seemed to have used a cave troll as a model," He commented disdainfully on his tatters, burning them to oblivion with a flick of his wand.
"They were my cousin Dudley's," he sighed resentfully. Severus' brow shot up in surprise. He had always thought-no matter what Dumbuldore told him- Potter was a spoiled, selfish, intolerable obnoxious little brat. 'Maybe I was wrong after all.' "I got hand-me-downs galore."
"Hn. Let's go now before something else happens. And besides," he glanced at Harry, "you had wanted to dally with you frie-"
"RON!" Harry took off for the door, only to gasp in pain and stumble. In a flash, Severus was there, steadying him. "Oh fuck. I'm such a screw up-how could I?!" Severus looked at him, questioning silently. "There was a good reason I was out in that bloody storm," he said, not wanting to divulge in the subject until they were in the Headmaster's Office.
"I kind of figured that out already, Potter. And I'm pretty sure Dumbuldore has the situation under some sort of control, for that matter. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go figure out what that is and save your 'acquaintance' from any other grievances," Snape stated, nodding toward his couch. Harry gawked at him. 'To bring up that at a time like this.' He started as he saw Snape at the door. "Are you coming any time this century Potter?" Snape asked, now more than a little impatient. Harry flushed in embarrassment and anger as he walked past his smug Professor.
Snape was stunned. Here it was, two o'clock in the morning, and the bane of his existence had somehow gotten through all of his magical barriers, and fainted in his arms. And to top it all off, he was soaking wet, and missing most of his clothes. Snape sighed in frustration. He knew he should get the boy up to Madam Pomfrey, but if Potter didn't die of hypothermia beforehand, she'd probably berate him about letting the Golden Boy stay in wet clothes. Disappointed that he was so close to getting rid of 'The-Boy-Who-Lived,' Snape gently picked Harry up and, shutting the door with a quiet spell, laid him down on his couch.
"Enervate."
Harry blinked, slowly opening his eyes. Yawning, he reached for his glasses, and not feeling them, realized his wasn't in his room. Even though his vision was blurry, Harry could tell the room was-cozy. There was just enough light to comfortably see, and a warm, crackling fire over to his right. Suddenly a dark figured stepped in front of him, and shoved something warm and fuzzy at his chest. "Here, Potter. Hurry and dry off before you ruin my couch." Harry stared in shock.
"Sn-SNAPE?! What am I doing here?!"
"Professor, to you," Severus snapped, considerably more irritated. "As for why you are in my quarters-wet, I have no clue. I was about to go to sleep, and then you showed up at my door, acting like there was no tomorrow." 'You, about to go to sleep? Ha!' Severus shoved his inner voices away, trying to focus on being mad at Harry, and noticed something had changed. His eyes were blank, void of life, reliving the night.
He and Ron sneaking out of the Burrow with their brooms, and flying to the Malfoy Manor to rescue Draco, Ron's lover, from his sadistic father. He and Ron getting split up, and him ending up in a large study, being confronted by Lucius. The two having a verbal argument; Lucius pinning him to the wall.hands roaming over his body, ripping his clothes.voice, whispering in his ear.the blast from Harry's hand-or so it seemed-sending Lucius across the room.Harry, running out the Manor, through the rain.and finally finding-Snape.
"Potter?" He didn't get a response, so he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Potter. Snap of it. Potter!" Panic shot down his spine, and he shook harder. "Harry!"
Harry's eyes shot open. 'Oh shit, I can't believe I could just-' "Ron!" he shouted, trying to get up, but Snape held him down.
"Oh no, you aren't going gallivanting off with one of your friends at this time," he sneered. "Now, give me some answers." Harry growled at his Professor, and he saw the surprise and anger flare up in his eyes, but not before he glimpsed the fear. 'Why would he, of all people, fear for me?' That intolerable, rude, obnoxious Professor of his-who smelt like herbs, vanilla.and strawberries.
"Hmm. I like strawberries." ' Where'd that come from?'
"Wha-?" Severus sputtered, forgetting that he was mad at him and trying to piece things together. "Potter, are you all right? How many fingers am I holding up?" Harry looked at him funnily.
"Uh.Professor, I can't exactly see-I lost my glasses." Severus stared at him, then, straightening himself, walked over to a bookcase, then back. He handed Harry a pair of glasses that, as he put them on, adjusted to his eyesight. He noticed that the room was even better than he had thought. The walls, when not covered by bookcases, was a deep maroon; the carpet thick, a dark, midnight blue, and when the light hit it just right he could see a large, intricate pattern in black. The couch was black, with silver and midnight blue pillows. It was like a dream, until he saw Snape in front of him, glaring.
"Dry off, Potter. By now, you might get lucky by having only pneumonia, and me a medium scolding by Pomfrey." Harry snorted, and Snape's eyebrows rose ever so slightly. "Then we're going to see Dumbuldore." Harry tried to stand, but his legs gave out beneath him and he started to fall-but Severus caught him, sitting him back on the couch. Harry coughed, his chest heaving with the effort. Snape sighed, picking up the towel. "You are definitely sick." Starting with Harry's chest, he gently started drying him off. Harry tensed, not sure whether to be offended, embarrassed, or bask in the warmth of the black towel. It was quite easy to decide, and he relaxed into the tender strokes. Severus glanced at him, eyes half lidded, and shook his remark away. And noticed the streaks of dried blood on Harry's arm. "Potter, what happened?" Harry looked away from his stare, quickly covering the wounds.
"I.I don't want to talk about it now-please." Harry looked back up at Severus, and the older man could tell it was worse than he had thought. Harry felt as if Snape wasn't looking at him, but through him- past all the barriers and shields he had built up for so long. He was the first to look away, slightly flushed.
"Mr. Potter, as soon as we get you dried off we're going straight to Albus. Pomfrey can attend to you there." Snape continued drying Harry off slowly, and more carefully this time. Harry wondered briefly why Snape didn't just use a simple drying spell, but then again, he wasn't complaining. He leaned into the towel, sighing softly. Severus was a little surprised-he thought the boy would hex him or something, but instead he seemed to be.enjoying it. He gently dried Harry's chest in a slow, circular motion, working his way down, and noted the cruel scratch marks on his body. 'Whoever did this is going to pay' he seethed mentally, an angry scowl darkening his face. Harry noticed how Snape tensed, and was about to comment when Snape started to move towards his lower abdomen. His breath hitched, skin tingling. He felt how close he was to the 'greasy git,' and how he wasn't so bad after all-in fact, he was actually.
"NO!" Harry yelped, pulling away from Snape as fast and as far away as he could manage. Snape stared at Harry, who was blushing furiously, with a 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me' look. "S-Sorry.I just-I just would rather f- finish drying off you-I mean, me-well, myself," Harry stuttered. "Oh bloody hell.I sound like a friggin' first year don't I?.Don't answer that," he added, cutting off Snape's unspoken-unneeded 'Yes, you do.'
"Suit yourself, just hurry it up," Severus replied nonchalantly, getting up and walking to his desk. Harry slowly picked himself up off the couch, wincing, as he held to the arm for support. Severus opened up the top-left drawer of his desk, taking out a small vial. Harry cleared his throat, trying to get his attention.
"What?"
"Um.Professor, I was wondering-" Severus turned back to face him, "do you- have any clothes that I can borrow?" He gestured off-handedly to his tatters. Severus eyed him up and down. Harry had on torn, baggy pants at least ten, twelve sizes too big, and his shirt-or what was left of it, since Snape hadn't even noticed it as he had dried him off, wasn't in any better condition. Snape walked out of the room through a door in between a bookcase and a beautiful tapestry, and returned a few seconds later with a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.
"Here."
"Why Professor, I had no idea you knew what *regular* Muggles wore, unlike most wizards- much less owned a few," Harry commented. Snape sent him a withering glare. "Sorry," he amended weakly, having the decency to look ashamed. "Thanks-achoo!" Harry sneezed, sending him into a fit of chest- racking coughs. He lost his balance, and would have fallen-if Snape hadn't caught him quickly, setting him back down on the couch. He waited impatiently as the coughs subsided.
"Take this Potter," Snape said, brandishing the little vial, "maybe with a Pepper Up potion we'll actually make it somewhere past my soggy, wet couch," emphasizing the 'soggy' and 'wet' parts. Harry took it, his hands shaking slightly, and gulped it down fast before he accidentally dropped it.
"Actually, I was just beginning to become acquainted with the said couch-" Harry received a glare, "-but I guess I can take the separation," he added, grinning playfully. Severus just gaped at him, then dismissed it with a roll of his eyes. He waved at the towel he had used before. "Oh, right." Harry, eyed the towel apprehensively, not wanting to conjure up any of his earlier mental escapades. "Eh-do you think you could do a quick drying spell instead, it might save your couch a few extra years." Severus flushed lightly, remembering that he could've done that since the beginning, and quickly muttered the spell. Then he made his clothes replace Harry's, magically adjusting them to his size.
"Who made those things for you Potter? They seemed to have used a cave troll as a model," He commented disdainfully on his tatters, burning them to oblivion with a flick of his wand.
"They were my cousin Dudley's," he sighed resentfully. Severus' brow shot up in surprise. He had always thought-no matter what Dumbuldore told him- Potter was a spoiled, selfish, intolerable obnoxious little brat. 'Maybe I was wrong after all.' "I got hand-me-downs galore."
"Hn. Let's go now before something else happens. And besides," he glanced at Harry, "you had wanted to dally with you frie-"
"RON!" Harry took off for the door, only to gasp in pain and stumble. In a flash, Severus was there, steadying him. "Oh fuck. I'm such a screw up-how could I?!" Severus looked at him, questioning silently. "There was a good reason I was out in that bloody storm," he said, not wanting to divulge in the subject until they were in the Headmaster's Office.
"I kind of figured that out already, Potter. And I'm pretty sure Dumbuldore has the situation under some sort of control, for that matter. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go figure out what that is and save your 'acquaintance' from any other grievances," Snape stated, nodding toward his couch. Harry gawked at him. 'To bring up that at a time like this.' He started as he saw Snape at the door. "Are you coming any time this century Potter?" Snape asked, now more than a little impatient. Harry flushed in embarrassment and anger as he walked past his smug Professor.