Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: PG13, just in case
Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness
Disclaimer: Potter and Snape belong to JKR, but Harry and Sev belong to my heart...
Posted on: January 29, 2006
A/N: I totally meant to get this chapter out sooner, but it kind of took on a life of its own. Which is not a bad thing, mind you. I had fun with this one. Read on and enjoy!
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Chapter 4: Screaming
"Run!"
The warning caused panic amongst those not already panicking. Everyone was dashing through the entranceway, trying their best to avoid being hit by their shifty assailants.
Apparently Dumbledore had decided to add some holiday cheer of his own. Having apparently bought out the entire stock of the latest Weasley twins product, Mistletoe Missiles, he released them in the school, where they were currently aiming at anything with a heartbeat.
With one arm around Hermione and the other held out in front of him, Ron tried desperately to push his way through the crowd. Unfortunately, the crowd was pushing right back. Even with Harry trying to push past people from behind Hermione, they were getting absolutely nowhere.
Just as he was about to cast a mild stunning spell to make a path of escape, Ron saw a Missile flying straight for him.
"Duck!" someone screamed.
The Missile sailed over Ron's head as he crouched down and pulled Hermione with him. Instead Harry was hit with it in the chest.
"Bullocks!" he cursed as a wispy white chain started tugging him forward to the Missile's first unsuspecting victim. Breaking apart from the screaming crowd, Harry looked up to see Snape in his direct path. Snape was on the other end of the chain? He tried to resist against the chain's tug to no avail. As he got closer to the older man, he called out, "Professor Snape!"
Eyes narrowing as Harry hurtled toward him, Snape raised his hands in an attempt to brace their impact. But to both their surprise, Harry pushed right past Snape and instead landed in the arms of Draco Malfoy. Before they could even acknowledge each other, their lips were fused in a heated snog.
The wispy chain danced around them, growing fainter and fainter until it dissipated completely. As they were released from the Mistletoe Missile, the two teens broke apart in comic fashion, staring at each other in horror. Then they turned and fled in opposite directions.
Luckily, with all of the craziness already going on, no one witnessed the scene. Except for Snape, who was livid. Seething. And damnit, jealous as all hell! With a snarl, he raised his wand and spelled the Mistletoe Missiles into exploding in midair, showering the students with plastic particles and clouds of wispy dust. As they all erupted into coughing fits, he spun on his heel and stalked off down the corridor to go yell at the headmaster. Or, at least, glare silently as Dumbledore rambled on and on about how the Missiles were such a good idea.
Once he caught his breath, Harry asked in a scratchy voice, "What the bloody hell happened?"
"Dunno, mate," Ron shrugged. "But who really cares, as long as those things are gone?"
Shuddering, Harry nodded in swift agreement. He did believe he was scarred for life after having to snog Malfoy.
Even after spending all that time with the Slytherins, he and Malfoy never got along. At first Harry mistook it for attraction to and nervousness around the blonde. But when Malfoy's arrogant personality was factored in, his physical attraction really diminished. He had what Harry referred to as a tainted beauty.
Harry thought of Snape the same way, only in opposite terms. The man was not handsome in the classical sense. He had been a spy or lackey for far too many years to care about something as trivial as appearances. But his soul, while tainted, was still beautiful to Harry. And that was all that really mattered.
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That evening, quite a commotion could be heard echoing through the stone corridors of the school. At first it was a faint murmur, but it steadily grew louder and louder as they reached their destination: the Great Hall.
The large group of seventh years trooped in, singing carols at the tops of their lungs. Unfortunately, many were singing off-key, and some were even singing different carols from the group. But they were putting their hearts and souls into it, and they were having fun.
The same could not be said about their audience.
As they serenaded the evening diners, most of the professors smiled in polite enthusiasm, while many of the younger years covered their ears to try to muffle the cacophony.
Once finished performing a handful of songs, the group bowed to the polite applause and then sat down at the communal dining table to eat.
After he finished his dinner, Harry excused himself from his friends' company. He and Malfoy had been trading glares from opposite ends of the table, and Harry had had quite enough of the blonde's presence for one day. Or a lifetime.
As Harry was leaving the Hall, a voice called from behind, "Interesting performance, Mr. Potter. Perhaps next time you should hold practice prior to such an event so that the musical stylings of your, ah, choir sound less like screaming banshees and more like melodies."
Turning around slowly, Harry quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Are you volunteering your own expertise on the subject?" The thought of Snape singing Christmas carols--or anything, for that matter--was almost enough to make Harry burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.
"As a matter of fact, I was," Snape answered smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Huh?" Harry's jaw dropped. He knew it was a lie. Snape would never willingly volunteer his time for anything except for possibly torturing students. But the fact that he was joking about it--joking with Harry--it was almost like the air between them was clear, like these last couple of months were just a hazy, disconcerting memory.
Almost.
Composing himself, Harry continued the light banter. "I'm sure we could all learn from your vast experience," he deadpanned.
Corner of his mouth quirking just slightly, Snape approached Harry and said, "You would do well to remember that in the future."
Harry searched the man's eyes imploringly. He got the feeling that there was something more to that statement than what was on the surface. But he was given no time to dwell as a warm, strong hand enclosed around his upper arm.
"Mr. Potter. Harry..." Snape struggled with his words, not entirely certain on what he was trying to say. He couldn't even fathom why he had followed the teen out of the Great Hall in the first place. Certainly the outcome would be less troublesome if he tried to avoid him altogether.
Then again, trouble managed to follow Harry from one day to the next, and Snape was usually sent to rescue the teen, so why should this situation be any different? He also knew that Harry would never let this go until he got some answers. Bloody persistent, he was.
Harry braced himself for... well, anything. An insult. A letdown. He hoped for something positive but realistically, he wasn't holding his breath.
Gathering his addled thoughts, Snape began tentatively, "About yesterday..." And then he paused, mentally berating himself for his hesitation. He was an ex-Death Eater, for Salazar's sake! He was fully capable of conversing with Harry Potter. Continuing in a firmer tone, he said, "I realize that you have queries about our... relations these past weeks--"
"What relations?" Harry interrupted, yanking his arm out of Snape's grip. "I know you're not referring to our relations in class, which are horrendous. And I highly doubt that relations refers to the supposedly inconspicuous staring bouts. Yes, I've noticed you staring at me," he accused at Snape's startled look. He was through with subtleties. They were getting him absolutely nowhere. He always preferred the direct approach, anyhow. "In such instances, I'm assuming you've noticed that the stares have not been one-sided." It was as bold of a confession as Harry would allow at the moment.
At the words, Snape felt his heart clench tightly, lungs expelling air but taking none in. Was Harry just confessing to having feelings for him? Surely not! But that intense, unrelenting gaze openly displayed everything that Harry was feeling toward him, and the raw emotions scared Snape more than anything. Most of his life was spent acting out instructions and pretending like he didn't care. Now that that part of his life was over, he had no excuses not to vocally reciprocate Harry's feelings.
Except for the fact that he didn't know how to do so.
When he received no answer, Harry's eyes narrowed to angry slits. "I see how it is. You're going to pretend we never had this conversation, right? Or maybe tell me that you don't notice that something is between us. Well, if that's what you want, then fine!"
Snape watched Harry storm off in a rage, his eyes staring unfocused at the corner the teen had just disappeared around. It was for the best in the long run. They would both be better off.
So why didn't he believe that?
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This fic is taking quite a spin opposite where I originally intended it to go. Unfortunately, that may mean the next chapter will take a bit of time to write. I need to tie up a few loose ends before I can continue in the right direction. But no worries... I'm working on it!
Thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed. You guys are my sun and stars, and I love you all!
Until next chapter, then. Peace out!