Title: Harry Potter and the Summer From Hell

Author: Ladye Black

Warnings: Author language in 'Notes'. Some sex stuff. We got Harry-interest, people! Now, if only Snape would cooperate…

Disclaimer: Uh, no, the charas portrayed in this fic aren't mine. They belong to a really lucky lady that is not me.

Notes: God, how to say sorry? I haven't updated in so long most of you have probably forgotten about this, for real this time. Al I can say is that I had one hell of a shitty New Year. Got sick, term paper, got sick again, still sick. I'm writing this as I try to hack up my lungs, with lack of sleep, and am cold. As in shivering, and my extremities are freezing. Not my best state, but maybe it'll take my mind off things for a bit.

Chapter 14

The morning panned out to be sunny and clear, like it had been for the previous two weeks. Harry woke in a sleepy, half-aroused state. He frowned in annoyance. He hated the feel of a morning erection, mostly because he'd rarely had the luxury to relieve himself before. And when he did, it was messy and yucky, and just why some people considered it the best thing ever, he didn't know.

That still didn't relieve him of his problem, though. So, he decided to try his usual version of maintaining his control over his very fickle hormones. He had a mental picture, a very detailed mental picture. It involved a wand, a frilly pink apron, and Snape.

This time, however, the mental image wasn't working. Instead, his very fickle hormones found it quite interesting. So, interesting, in fact that they were clamoring even more for his attention. Harry decided to fall back on second mental image; Uncle Vernon in tights. Ugh. That did it.

With a small groan of irritation at having to use his fallback image, Harry clambered out of his bed and made his way to the bathroom.

Which opened as soon as he reached it.

It took Harry more time than it should have to realize he was staring. It took a little more for him to care and eventually look away. Standing before him was a tall, dark-haired, pale, in-nothing-but-a-towel version of Snape. It was drool-worthy.

The thought hit Harry so suddenly that he gasped aloud. Snape, drool-worthy? Where in the Thirteen Circles of Hell did that come from? Then again, that thought shouldn't have been all that unexpected, hadn't he just been enjoying mental images if Snape in a frilly pink apron? Another thought hit him; since when did he enjoy the thought of Snape naked?

That merited further investigation, because right now, Snape was speaking to him. "Huh?" Oh, real intelligent Potter, if you're lucky he might think that your IQ hasn't dropped.

"I asked if you were going to let me by?" the smooth voice washed over him.

"Oh! Sorry!" Harry hastily moved to the side to allow Snape access to his room. The older man glided by and Harry's eyes followed him, predictably dragging down the Professor's back to study the shape of the older man's hips as outlined by the towel hanging around his waist. The door to Snape's room shut and Harry could finally take his eyes off the other man.

"Great," Harry mumbled to himself. "What're you trying to do, Potter? Get yourself hexed into oblivion?" Continuing to mumble about his stupidity, Harry shut the door behind him and prepared for a very aggravating day.

Aggravating might have been a nice way to say it. First, there was Snape in a towel that morning. Okay, he could handle it, even if his eyes had strayed. If that'd been all; fine. But nooooo, Harry mocked himself; he just had to catch Snape while he was gardening on this particularly hot afternoon! Harry didn't know whether to beat himself over the head with the hose he was holding, or turn it on Snape so he could have a better view. Damn, but being a teenager was confusing!

"Harry, please water the plants, not the weeds surrounding the plants."

"Right," he agreed sullenly and returned the hose to its proper course.

And that was just early afternoon.

Later that day, when Harry came to get Snape for dinner, he found the man in the library leafing through textbooks, wearing a pair of innocuous black spectacles perched on his admittedly overlarge nose. That's…kind of…cute…Oh my god! What the hell am I thinking! Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed all thoughts of Snape and his feelings for the man to the darkest, most hidden corner of his mind. "Professor?"

"Hm?" Snape continued reading from his book.

"It's time to eat, Professor."

"I'll be there in a moment, Potter. I just want to finish this chapter before I leave it."

"Oh, alright then," Harry agreed quietly and went to eat by himself.

It was late at night when Harry went to look for Snape again. It didn't take long to find the man since he hadn't moved from the spot Harry had first found him in. Only this time, the man as sound asleep, arms folded under his chin on the desk, book open before him.

"Only wanted to finish the chapter, huh?" Shaking his head, he carefully went about making the man more comfortable. Harry left him to sleep on the semi-comfortable couch, afraid to lift the man up the stairs for fear of dropping him. Not that Snape was heavy, quite the contrary actually, but the stairs were narrow and hard to navigate, it was better to just leave Snape where he was now.

After taking one last look, and removing the other man's spectacles, Harry went to find his own bed, and perhaps a better sleep.

I really hope Dumbledore comes soon, Harry thought before he drifted off. I don't know how much longer and I can stand to stay alone with him before I really start to like him.

TBC…

Yeah, I know. Sorry. I think it's 'cause the 6th book is taking so long. I'm HP deprived. There are only so many times you can read the other five before it starts getting a little…too much. Don't worry; it will be finished one day. I promise…unless I die, then we have a problem, but I don't plan on dying, so don't worry too much.

Thank you to all those who have reviewed. I know I don't mention you by name, but each and every review is loved, cherished, and kept in its own special box! (That's a lot of boxes…)