An Answer
HP/SS,Futurefic. Est. relationship, mush.
As this is my first fic, any and all recommendations will be gladly appreciated
He fell in love with the roof of the Astronomy tower when he was thirteen. The highest point of the castle, it was the only place where he could have complete privacy. It was also the only place from where he could observe everything from Hogsmeade to the Forbidden Forest. Those two factors made it the only place he frequented more than his dungeons. Considering that he got his rooms at twenty, the little space between the ceiling and the roof of the Astronomy Tower was fan more of a home to him than anyplace else. In fact, he'd gladly move up there from the dungeons were it not for his cover.
His 'cover', he could hardly think of a worse word for his situation. Try 'slavery'; that'd be more appropriate anyway. Not that he had anyone else to blame, really. Everyone makes mistakes in their youth. Some go through a slut stage, or a few; others squander money and still others get stupid tattoos. Lupin's rainbow colored butt cheek came to mind. He, of course had to outdo everyone. Thus his current slavery to two masters was due to his own idiocy. After all, that was probably the one thing wrong with his life that he couldn't blame on Potter Senior.
He inhaled the sticky sweet smoke of ganja and let it settle in his lungs. So much better than the marijuana the Muggles preferred. In either case, his tolerance to cannabis was only surpassed by to alcohol. The herb could no longer soothe the ache of over exposure to cruciatus. Harry's muggle painkillers gave out within a month. Why was he still doing this? There were at least three other spies on Voldemorts ranks, and yet he had no peace. Seven years since Harry's graduation, he still went out on summonses, still got cursed into oblivion, still walked the tightrope of Dumbledore's making. The only difference between ten years ago and now, was the warmed up bed that always awaited him, a glass of heated cognac and Harry.
He took another drag of the pipe and forced himself to stand. His left hip wobbled a bit as he moved to one of the small latch windows at the circumference of the roof. Opening the window proved to be a chore and he had to settle his weight against the wall. Finally, the windowpane flew open letting in sound and the light of the Sunday morning. The sound of a scuffle reached him and he looked east, just in time to see three figured emerge from the Forbidden Forest. The tallest one walked briskly with a smaller one in its arms. Next to them, an unusually large red dog was obviously trying to work off some excess energy by running in mad circles and barking like mad.
And exasperated: "Ron!" reached him and he let out the breath he'd unwittingly held for too long. So that's why he was still doing this. Besides, ganja was better than cannabis anyway.