This is a fictional story that was written for entertainment purposes. I do not take claim over any of the characters in this story and give all credit to Just Kidding Rolling for all story plots and character designs. The rating on this story is started at rating T but there will be points where it will be rated M, Read at your own risks knowing you chose to read it; those points will not be marked M unless it is of certain standard that may need to be, (sewerslides, moida, etc) Don't forget to R&R.
(Snape's pov)
The bed was not nearly as uncomfortable as I had expected to experience, yet I still managed to get a minimal amount of sleep, switching between being half awake and dead asleep. I still can not believe that Dumbledore would do something so blatantly stupid. Who am I kidding? It is Dumbledore I am talking about; this, somehow, would be in a book of things he could have done.
The Potter boy had yet to return to the shared room after Dumbledore had departed. I nearly laughed at how offended the man had looked and how he had stumbled back, his hand clutching his chest with raised eyebrows. I knew it would be my death if I laughed at him in such proximity.
I pulled myself out of bed and stretched my back oddly enough, surprised when I did not feel any aching pops occur; the man sure knows his cushioning. Standing from the bed, I looked around the room. My eyes avoided looking at the other occupied bed, not wanting to think about how I had slept in the same room as the man who marked me into loyalty. I walked over to what looked like a dresser and bookshelf connected and began looking at the bottom half. I took notice of the three sets of drawers, each containing a set of initials on them.
The top two had Potters, HP, in a bright gold font; the middle two had TMR, undoubtedly meant to show whatever name the Dark Lord seems to reject. With four out of six drawers labelled, my gaze fell onto mine, A silver pair of S's meant to portray my initials. My eyebrows knitted as I started to wonder exactly how many clothes the man had fit into such small drawers, yet when I opened the drawers meant for me, the first held what looked like the regular outfit I would wear in the potions lab while the second one held bunny slippers and white socks.
I snatched the socks and quietly slammed the door shut; my nose scrunched at the idea of wearing such things, and I could not withhold a shudder. I grabbed the clothes and inspected them, realising the drawers must connect to the clothes we desire to wear rather than being a storage unit.
I moved towards the bathroom and stepped in, closing the door behind me. Silently groaning when I flicked on the lights, I ignored the neon grout with the tan tiles and moved over to the shower, starting it up and testing the water multiple times until I was content before beginning to pull up my shirt.
I paused when the bathroom door unlocked and opened to a groggy-looking Dark Lord standing with his hand on the handle. He looked up at me, and we stared at each other for a moment before he ducked his head with a soft grunt and pulled the door shut. Once again, it locked again, and that is when I let out the breath I would be holding.
I was not sure if I thought he was going to kill me or if he was going to say something, but I do not think I have felt more awkward like that since I was around Draco's age. My hands felt clammy, and I showered quickly but thoroughly before dressing and opening the door.
The Dark Lord seemed to hold his pile of clothes and was looking at the books on the bookshelf with disgust before noticing the man's exit and pushing past me to get to the restroom, where the door shut rather loudly. I, thankfully, was able to ignore the man and make my way back into the room, pulling on the socks and placing my past-worn clothes into the hamper, watching them disappear. His nose picked up on the smell of eggs, and I opened his door to hear someone downstairs moving about.
Sighing, I thought I should get downstairs before I had to figure out how to put out a fire endlessly. I made my way back through the hallway and down the stairs and around the couch backs to push open what I assumed to be the kitchen door.
I was fully ready to scold whomever I found in the kitchen, yet somehow, I was startled into not speaking at seeing a partly familiar mop of hair working on hot pans over the muggle stove.
"Potter?" I was not surprised when the boy turned around but rather when I caught sight of multiple full plates of food on the counter behind him. On the stove, he seemed to be adding salt to eggs.
"Hm?" He let out as he dashed more salt onto the pan of eggs and folded them into each other. I shook my head to clear my thoughts before scanning the plates of food. I saw pancakes, bacon, and what looked like sausages, diced fruit that looked near equivalent to some of the work of my NEWT students, along with tater hash and a plate of toast.
"You can cook." It was less a question and more of an announcement as though I could not believe I saw saying it at all. Harry shrugged and did not speak for a moment before a smirk twitched onto his lips,
"Quite obviously." I rolled my eyes, producing a sound that was part scoff, part laugh, shaking my head at his mirroring my past sarcasm.
"I had assumed you were incapable of cooking since nearly the vast majority of your potions have been barely Acceptable in my class." I watched as Harry seemed to slouch a bit at the recognition. He turned off the heat yet continued to stir the pan as though he was not even thinking about it.
"Yeah... I am not proud of that. I do not think I will ever be proud of that when I knew what I was doing; I knew how to do it, I just.." I watched as he opened a cabinet casually and pulled out a plate, placing it down onto a towel and gently putting the eggs onto the plate while it slowly steamed. He placed the pan into the sink and ran the water cold before leaning on the counter and wiping his hands onto the apron he wore.
"I can understand ." I had to think of my words carefully since the Dark Lord was still in the house with them. "I am quite sure I would have had... Issues concentrating if I were also a part of your class, especially if I were seated next to Ms. Granger." Harry laughed softly before facing the sink and washing the pan with rolled-up sleeves.
"She's not as bad as you would assume. She mainly can appear annoying when trying to help, considering she kept her nose in a textbook most of the first year, she lacks conversational skills." He shook off the dish and placed it into the rack, jumping when a gust of wind dried it before it shot up and flew into the cupboard with other pans. I watched with a raised eyebrow as he balanced the pancakes and the toast on his shoulders in a practised manner. I was about to step forward and tell him to stop before he effortlessly picked up two more plates, the sausages, bacon, and the fruit bowl, and made his way to the shut door with all too easy of balance and focus.
"Can you grab the eggs and the hashbrowns? Those are the two plates that are the most hot." I went to get the door only to see him tap it open with his foot before pushing it wide and stepping around the corner to where I knew the round table was. I stepped further into the kitchen and grabbed the edge of the towel to pick up the plates, holding them gently before pushing back into the other room. Neville was up and awake, looking at all the food in awe.
"Wow, Harry, when did you even have time to make all this?" He seemed to catch sight of me and squeaked gently, stepping back from the table as I placed down the two hot plates on the placemats on the table. I had not said anything to him, yet it was not difficult to tell that he felt nervous around me.
"Mr. Longbottom, perhaps rather than loitering about the table, you could be helpful and see what other... occupants are awake. I already know my room will be empty." I added on the last part and watched as his shoulders slouched at the understanding that he would not have to see if the Dark Lord was awake nor worry about bothering him if he was not. Longbottom moved up the stairs while Lovegood and Zabini both seemed to be coming down the stairs, chatting silently about whatever those two managed to find to talk about. They moved in sync, sitting next to each other to continue their conversation. I sat across from them, giving them space at the small table.
Potter was moving around the table, taking the time to place plates into the circle along with some silverware, a fork and knife, at every chair and a napkin. I happened to catch his gaze where there seemed to be a sort of tranquillity to his features as he made sure the table looked well and ready to eat from.
It was relatively silent besides the quieted exchange between Lovegood and Zabini that seemed to sound more like a whispered argument. Yet the more those two talked, the more they seemed to bring insight to each other, and slowly, the argument turned to a slow conversation. I found it odd how, in most cases, if you just let the argument continue, the issue would work itself out. The door opened, and as I lifted my head, I took notice of the gently animated room going quiet. The Dark Lord scowled and moved to sit on my left in the empty seat, seemingly eyeing the table hungrily, almost as though he were judging the contents. Potter seemed to be glaring at the man as he picked up a plate from one of the chairs and started placing food onto it. I watched as Potter put barely any eggs, tater hash, and fruit on the plate before folding the utensils into the napkin and moving to leave the table. The Dark Lord then turned his gaze to Potter, eyes almost glowering into the young man as he picked up his plate and utensils and moved to leave.
AN: Because of the website being down this weekend I was not able to properly post according to my schedule and therefore was not able to update you little readers that I HAD a schedule. Chapters will be posted on Tuesdays and Thursdays and sparingly the weekend if I have one to post then. I thank you all for your patience and please, don't be afraid to tell me what you think of the story or you think I should add. No idea is a bad idea; All idea's will be used SOMEHOW, some way, within reason of course. :))