CHAPTER 9
The next evening after class, Harry collapsed at his desk, massaging his temples. The news of his brawl with Snape had spread around the whole school, and Harry had seen several students quickly stuff yesterday's copy of The Daily Prophet into their bags if they happened to see him nearby. Harry simply ignored this. Snape was less lenient, putting everyone he caught with the article into detention and mercilessly deducting house points.
While Harry tried to relax, a handsome grey owl fluttered onto his desk through the opened window, a piece of parchment in its beak. The note was curt verging on rude, written in an admittedly elegant flowing script.
Potter,
Meet me in my rooms on Sunday 8 PM sharp to discuss the joint project.
S. Snape
Sunday, of all days. He was sure Snape had chosen that day on purpose.
"Marry me," Harry muttered to Snape's owl. The owl drew itself up, nipped Harry severely on the wrist and flapped away from him, feathers bristling.
Harry scribbled back All right, signed the parchment and gave it to the owl, which flew on purposely too near his head, scraping past his ear before leaving through the window.
"Just as unpleasant as the owner," Harry grumbled.
By the end of the week, Harry, though happy to be back at Hogwarts, was thoroughly fed up of still seeing copies of the infamous article being tucked away hastily or even read underneath desks. In his last class, he summoned all the pieces of newspaper with his wand and directed them to the waste bin. The students looked at him guiltily and he found it very difficult not to give them more homework than usual. Snape had obviously not been able to resist the temptation of piling assignments on them; Harry overheard a few students grumbling angrily about the five-page-essay they had to write for his subject.
Besides the article, Harry had to put up with Howlers from some of the bar's clientele, yelling at him that he was no hero at all but a conceited rowdy. On the other hand, there was a generous pile of fan mail praising his singing performance to the skies. The mail reminded him that he would have to go down to Enchantments on Saturday evening. He owed Tonks an apology for the unpleasant incident with Snape. To be on the safe side, he took his Invisibility Cloak with him. Gryffindor or not, he was not in the mood for further confrontations and possibly another quarrel with the nasty-tempered Slytherin.
Nervosus gave him a somewhat stiff greeting but allowed him to enter the bar. Madleina looked at him warily and reminded him tartly to empty his locker; there were lots of fans' gifts inside, including the spangled robes. Harry decided on arranging to have the whole lot forwarded to him via owl post. It would probably take fifteen owls, he mused. He shut and secured his locker. A sharp finger prodded him in the back. He turned around, thinking of Snape. It was Tonks.
"Harry, One more quarrel with Severus Snape in here and you will just have to go," she said crossly, "look at all the negative repercussions…mortifying article in the Prophet…members threatening to drop their membership…"
"Tonks, I'm so sorry, it won't happened again, I'm going to issue a public apology in the Prophet," Harry said with very red ears and cheeks. "Dumbledore gave both of us a good telling-off and he has, uhm, punished us by making us work together on establishing a Duelling Club."
"Make sure that you don't set up your club over here again," Tonks warned him, but her face relaxed and her tone was friendlier. "I suppose he does get underneath one's skin," she added, referring to Snape.
"He sure does. He wouldn't happen to be here tonight, does he?" He thought it was a pity that the Marauder's Map didn't work outside Hogwarts.
"I actually saw him a few minutes before," Tonks answered, her dark eyes glinting. "Had a few strict words with him. He didn't take it as well as you, I think he's gone to the main hall for some…peace. Make sure you two behave properly, now."
"I will. Oh, by the way, can I have all the stuff in my locker sent to Hogwarts via owl post?"
Tonks eyes twinkled roguishly.
"No problem. You'll get it on Monday. What do you intend to do with it all?"
"I was thinking of charity. There are so many robes in there, I'm sure they'll come in useful…It's not as if I can wear them, most of them are witches' clothes."
"Very good idea, Harry. I like it. Enjoy your evening – arrivederci!" She departed happily.
Harry wanted to go the main hall of the karaoke bar to have some fun listening to the singing, but he was interrupted five times on his way by wizards and witches asking him for closer details on his quarrel with Snape. Thoroughly annoyed, Harry slipped into an empty corner, extracted his Cloak and draped it over himself. He carefully slipped back into the corridor, shrinking against the wall now and then to avoid being bumped into. To his astonishment, he suddenly caught sight of Snape walking in the opposite direction, accompanied by a witch or wizard wearing black robes and whose head and face were, disturbingly enough, covered by a hood. Harry hesitated. It was none of his business. And he didn't want to risk another skirmish. On the other hand…Maybe Snape was involved in some shady business. One never knew. And, to be honest, Harry was not averse to uncovering something potentially damaging to Snape after the way Snape had treated him when he was still a student. Not that Snape was any nicer now. Harry doubled back, rebuking himself for his regression into immature behaviour, and followed the two figures. They led him to the back door of the karaoke bar, outside into the open air. The door slammed closed behind him. It was raining outside. A whole lot of dustbins were piled up on one side. Harry slid behind them. Snape and his companion stopped a few feet away, not caring that they were standing in the rain, and the latter threw back his hood, revealing a strikingly attractive male face and long auburn hair. The wizard peeled off his cloak with the attached hood, letting it slide onto the ground. Harry frowned when he noticed that the wizard was only wearing tight silvery pants – and nothing else. He watched with bated breath as the young man drew close to Snape, running his hands over the Potions Master's chest. Snape pulled him roughly against him. They kissed hungrily, their bodies squeezed together. Harry's jaw dropped. Snape. Kissing. It was not the fact that Snape was kissing a guy that shocked him. He was astonished that Snape could kiss at all…or that someone would want to kiss him in the first place. He felt that he was intruding on something extremely private. He was just about to leave when the two men broke apart, breathing hard.
"I can't do this. Not on the spot. It is out of the question," Snape said sharply.
"I know you want me. You're starved for it, aren't you? We don't have to go all the way right now. We can just kiss some more, go over to my place…I'm here just for some fun… And so are you. Nothing serious."
"I don't know you well enough to do what you want," Snape said contemptuously.
"You seem to be an arrogant and prude kind of guy," the other wizard pointed out in a cool voice.
"And you seem to go for every man who is shows the slightest interested in you. You needn't think that magic and potions can cure all the diseases that come with cheap promiscuous behaviour, my dear boy."
"Who the fuck do you think you are, judging people like that? Treating me like some kind of male slut? That's it for me. I'm not interested. You can go hump a Bowtruckle."
He bent, retrieved his robe and stalked away; he paused and shouted over his shoulder:
"You're not the most attractive of men, you know! Can't imagine who'd ever want to be with you!"
Harry watched Snape lean back against the wall with a sigh, the rain flowing down his thin face, glistening on his cheekbones. His lips were parted. He raised his hands and covered his face with them. Harry inched closer for a better look. His elbow hit the lid of one of the waste bins and it fell down with a tremendous clatter. Snape leapt up with alacrity, drawing out his wand, and a streak of light illuminated the immediate area surrounding him.
"Who's there?" he yelled. Harry, stifling a torrent of curses, crouched underneath the Cloak.
Snape moved towards him, flipping back his dripping hair.
"There is no use hiding from me!"
He came even closer, only four steps away from Harry.
"I can sense you, you're nearby," the Potions Master whispered. Harry panicked. He flung over the bins he was hiding behind and ran for it. He managed to Disapparate before Snape reached the very spot where he had vanished. In his nervousness, Harry Misapparated slightly and ended up in a toilet cubicle of Enchantments. This would not have been so dramatic if the cubicle hadn't already been occupied. A loud yell echoed through the room as Harry knocked the unhappy occupant off the toilet seat.
"Hey! Haul your ass back in here!" the toilet seat squawked.
Harry swore and burst out of the cubicle while the wizard he had dislodged so unceremoniously tried to settle his robes and get up at the same time, cursing loudly. Harry looked right and left, shrugged off his Cloak in front of the Men's toilet, hastily bundled it up and stashed it away underneath his clothes.
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