Chapter Two: Thinking
Harry Potter was still thinking about his conversation with Snape by the next afternoon. Harry had a knack for knowing when people were lying, and there were two lies Severus Snape had made in the course of their conversation. First, when he'd said he was gay - Harry could tell that this was not totally true. Snape obviously had had relations with men, but Harry suspected that perhaps he'd also been with woman, that he was probably bisexual with more of a gay leaning. Not that being bisexual apposed to gay made much of a difference in the scheme of things. Secondly, when Snape had indicated that his caring for Harry was purely teacher and student kind of caring, that had also been a lie.
The second lie did however make a difference in Harry's perception of that conversation. Did Snape care for Harry like a son? Since he had been close to Harry's mother, to Lily? Harry realized that this was probably the case, though in the back of his mind he had already crossed the "what if he fancies me?" line. He tried not to dwell on the idea, and decided to test the waters and try and find out exactly what Snape had not been truthful about. If he did look at Harry like a son, that perhaps Harry could find a father figure out of it all, something he'd not had since Sirius had died. If that turned out to be the case, Harry would just have to shut off the other, awkwardly favorable, fantasies forming in his head.
Severus Snape yelped as the potion he was brewing splashed onto his hand. "Shit!" Minerva picked that exact moment to make an enterence into his lab - she would pick a moment of weakness to intrude.
"That looks like it hurt," she commented.
"What do you want?" Severus growled. The potion had splattered because he'd twice added the two cups of water required for the potion and thus overfilled the couldran. He'd done this because he was thinking about something other than his work - thinking about Harry. Distracted by Harry - bloody - Potter.
"Professor Sprout is feeling ill today," Minerva said. "I need you to fill in her shift as lunch monitor today."
"Can't you find someone else?" Severus whined.
"I could," Minerva sighed. "But only if you have a good reason why not."
"I'm in a bad mood," Severus growled, pointing out the obvious.
"You are always in a bad moon, Severus. That's not an excuse, that's merely your usual state of being," she retorted. "Is there at least a good reason for your mood today?"
Severus' shoulders slumped. Was having thoughts about bending a student over your desk and fucking them senseless a good reason? "Not that I'm going to share with you, Minerva."
Minerva raised her eyebrows. "Now I'm actually concerned Severus," she said, seeing that he was not telling her something.
Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with Ron. He had no idea where Hermione was at, and for the first time in days, Harry found himself relaxed and goofing off with his best mate.
"Hey Ron, remember in first year when you couldn't properly levitate?"
Ron scowled, and pointed his wand at a bowl of pudding. "Wingarium leviosa!" he said, and Harry watched the bowl sour upward, and move toward his head.
Harry pulled his own wand out and pointed to the bowl, muttering the same spell at the same bowl, trying to push it torwards Ron's head. Ron squinted, and a battle of wills began, the two boys trying to control the now shaking bowl of pudding.
"Could you two at least try to act like adults?" a voice sneered.
Both boys, startled by Snape's entrance, lost concentration, and the bowl of pudding crashed down and landed on Ron's head. Harry laughed.
"Potter, you of all people should be able to demonstrate more maturity than this," Snape said.
Harry grinned. "Yes, dad."
Harry's grin faded as he saw the change in Severus' face. It was annoyance, and that same damn look that Harry had not been able to identify yet. "I am no one's father," Snape said in an oddly quiet voice. "Least of all yours, Harry Potter."
At that he turned and stalked away, leaving Harry even more confused than he was before. Just what was that look?