Chapter 11

Harry had finished his slice of chocolate cake just in time to answers Professor's Snape's question about how he is feeling about his career after schooling.

"I still don't know professor. Its been a few weeks and my mind still hasn't changed. I don't want to be an Aurora. I don't want to play Quidditch professionally either because I just, I just can't handle people anymore! I just wish I can be like a little hermit crab and hide in my shell." Harry sulked and started poking at the crumbs on his plate with a fork. He sighed and stretched his arms across the table followed by resting his chin on his biceps.

"I don't know what to do sir, all of my subjects are set and ready to go but I chose those when I thought I wanted to be an Aurora. I can't change them. The classes are full now and will be too hard to switch 'em around."

Harry turned his head so that his cheek was now resting on his laid-out arms. He looked at the professor who was still slowly eating his slice of cake.

"Professor McGonagall said that I can change them after Christmas holidays though, so I just need to get through the first 3 months…but then I'll be behind everyone else in the other classes!"

Snape ate the final slice and watched as the boy started nibbling on his fingernails worryingly.

"I wish I was Hermione; she can do anything. I'm too dumb. Maybe I should just become an Aurora and just make everyone happy. Marry Ginny, live in a mansion, become an Aurora and have a million little red head kids and just make the whole world happy."

Harry buried his head in his arms defeated, forehead touching the cold desk and continued to talk. Though, what he was saying through the muffled complaints, Severus couldn't fathom.

Snape put his plate down and summoned a house elf to take the dishes away (after having a quick look around to make sure that no potions were brewing). Harry was still mumbling to himself and kicking his legs back and forth. Snape noticed that though Harry had almost finished going through puberty, he was still quite short for his age. A man his age should be too tall to swing their legs while on their chair. Not wanting Harry to be down on his birthday, Severus decided to think about what his parents would do again in this situation. Their child is down, sulking and complaining. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose while thinking and decided to take a small step outside his comfort zone.

Severus placed a hand on the boy's arched back and started rubbing circles in what he hoped was a soothing motion. To touch anyone in general is foreign for the Professor but to do this to Harry is an idea he is still getting used to.

"Sir?" Harry lifted his head after feeling the professor's touch. Snape thought he had done wrong and took his hand back as if he had just touched boiling water.

"My apologies, I should have asked first." Snape said. Harry sat up straight and made eye contact with the man. He appeared to be his emotionless self, but in his eyes, he looked guilty.

"No-uh, it's okay! I just, I'm used to Hermione or Mrs Weasley comforting me is all. It's nice." Harry smiled up at Snape. Snape felt like an idiot. Of all the parental acts he could do as a man, he did something that reminded the boy of a motherly figure rather a paternal one.

Harry was smiling though so he must have done something right? The boy tilted his head curiously and asked "Can you keep going? It felt really nice sir". Snape nodded and twirled his index finger around in a small circle, wordlessly instructing Harry to turn that his back faced him. Harry sat on his chair backwards, resting his head on the back of the chair leaving no obstacles for Professor Snape.

Snape placed his hand onto the boy and started out with small circles between his shoulder blades and heard the boy moan.

Moan.

There was a teenage boy in his office, moaning at his touch.

Snape pressed harder into Harry and felt tension in the boy's muscles. Using his palm, he massaged the tensed muscle only to hear the teenage boy almost purring.

"Mmmm, that's good sir." Harry spoke almost drunkenly.

Before Snape realised it, his other hand was on Harry's back. His shirt rumpled and rolled under his fingers; the friction was not favourable to Snape's hands. He thought about when he would occasionally rub his feet after a busy day and thought how idiotic it is to rub a foot whilst wearing a sock and how much more efficient it is without the clothing barrier. Before he, out of habit, spelled the shirt away, reality caught up to him.

What the hell was he doing? He was literally seconds away from stripping the boy, to massage him, to hear him moan and purr more?!

"Mmmmm harder sir." It felt as if he was under the imperious curse. He should be taking his hands off the boy, apologising to him for the inappropriate behaviour, wish him another good birthday and burn his hands in the stomach acid of a goat but instead he dug his fingers into the flesh more. He could feel the boy's spine. He could also feel the shoulder blades and on occasion, ribs. Merlin the boy was thin.

"Sir?" Harry said lazily.

"Yes Mr. Potter?" He said, trying to distance himself from the boy if not by action by at least words.

Harry laughed instead of his usual correction of name.

"It's like I'm at a parlour or something and I'm your customer the way you call me Mr. Potter." he laughed. Snape didn't think it was that funny at all.

"What is it you wanted?" He asked Harry, trying to sound like he's snapping but instead coming out more impatient.

"Can I take off my shirt? The fabric is chafing."

Dammit, he had just finished that internal battle with himself over this very subject.