The Magic Carpet, Part One

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, and I make no profit whatsoever from forcing them together in an AU of my devising.

A/N: I'm not dead! Who knew? Here's part one of two, written because I just couldn't get the image of a surly amusement park worker out of my head. T.T

…

"Dad, what can you tell me about Snape?"

James Potter stiffened for a moment before lowering his newspaper to raise a brow at his son. "That depends on what you want to know." He said after a moment.

Harry fidgeted, a nervous habit he'd become renowned for in recent years. "Er . . . how long has Snape worked at 'Whatnot'? Has he . . . did he ever do anything else?"

James sighed and folded his paper. "Snape's been at Whatnot since your mother and I were your age. He never left."

"Oh. Well . . . I'd heard rumors about him, and I finally met him yesterday."

"Oh, did you?" James smirked and leaned back in his chair. "Did he mention your mother?"

"Not exactly. Albus gave me a tour and introduced me as his assistant, and Snape said, 'A Potter in maintenance? I thought the day would never come'."

James laughed at that, pushing his untouched bacon across the table to Harry. "Well, he hated me from the moment we met. I thought it was because he fancied your mother, but he never mentioned it to her . . . Is he still on the Magic Carpet?"

"Yeah." Harry laughed, biting into the crisp bacon. "Albus told me he's the only one who never rotates off. And that he can be temperamental."

James smiled. "That's a bit of an understatement. Snape's a bastard. Stay away from him, Harry. There's a reason he still works at 'Whatnot' after all this time."

Harry studied his father with a frown. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"Honestly, it's something you'll have to sort out on your own."

…

Albus Dumbledore had been the owner and maintenance man of 'Whatnot' since the park opened, and he told Harry that he'd only ever had two assistants.

"Why, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, it's a long story . . . generally there aren't many people suited to park maintenance. Especially out of the kids that usually apply."

Harry grinned despite himself. "So I'm a special snowflake, is what you're telling me?"

"Is that what the kids are saying nowadays?" Albus said with a chuckle. "Yes, Harry. A special snowflake suited for maintenance."

The first day saw Harry carrying Albus' tool-bag as the suspiciously limber older man skittered and climbed and tightened things all over the place. Harry winced a few hours into his shift as Albus jumped from one side of the coaster to the other.

"It's nerve wracking, isn't it?" a deep voice mused from beside him, causing Harry to jump and the tool bag to slip from his shoulder onto the ground with a loud *clank*. Albus looked across the bay and smiled. "Hello, Severus. A tad early, are we?"

Harry stooped to grab the (very, very heavy) tool bag and rose to see Severus Snape in all his tall, scowling glory. Dark hair and thin wrists were Harry's first impressions, and he noticed Snape held a thick novel and a cd case under his arm, though his hands were in his pockets.

"Do you always sneak up on people?" Harry blurted, hitching the tool bag into its' proper position. He watched Snape closely.

"I only sneak up on dunderheads who aren't paying attention to their surroundings. And a quiet approach isn't always an attempt at sneaking, although I'm quite good at that, too." And with that, Snape stalked off toward the Magic Carpet.

Albus jumped down from an emergency platform, causing Harry to jump and drop the tool bag yet again. "I think Severus likes you. That was 'chatty', for him."

Harry stared, dumbfounded. "He may have insulted me. I'm not completely sure."

Albus smiled at that and patted Harry's arm gently. "That's quite common with Severus. Half the time I wonder if he enjoys my company at all, or is plotting my demise."

"Did he enjoy my mother's company?" Harry realized too late what he'd asked and began to fidget. "I mean . . . that was rude. Sorry, Mr. Dumbledore."

"Please, Harry, call me Albus. And I believe he was fond of her, yes. Now-" Dumbledore clapped his hands, sharply. "Have you ever tinkered with a gasoline engine? No? On to the bumper boats."

…

As part of maintenance, Harry mostly worked mornings before the park opened, taking his lunch just as the operator crew filtered in, including his friends from school, Ron and Hermione. After telling them about his morning encounter over a sandwich, Harry was informed that Ron and Hermione had both heard about Snape, though their gossip and sources differed greatly. Ron figured Snape stayed because he was an ex-con. Hermione had just laughed and mentioned perhaps he genuinely liked it here, and never bothered to leave.

Harry shook his head. "My dad said something along the lines of Snape not being able to leave. Maybe he tried, but no one would hire him?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't see why he couldn't do something that doesn't concern the general public. With all those books he reads, he's probably intelligent. But, either way, Ron and I have to report to the office about paychecks before our shift. Shouldn't you find Dumbledore?"

Harry nodded and wished them luck before wandering off. For a white-haired wizard-looking man, Dumbledore was surprisingly hard to find. Harry heard a burst of noise to his right and turned to see Dumbledore crouched on a seat of the Magic Carpet, inspecting the latch of a lap bar. The noise, it seemed, came from the speakers of the ride, which were now leaking odd synth noises.

Snape sat in the glass booth, flipping through his CD book. Harry wondered idly if Severus had anything interesting beneath the prickly surface. He must have been nearly 37 now, but he still worked at the same amusement park as when he was a teenager. Harry cocked his head to the side, wondering.

"Harry, my boy! Over here!"

Harry snapped out of his distracted haze and jogged over to Dumbledore, who had tucked his lengthy beard into his shirt and was now pointing to the lap bar.

"What do you think the problem is and how can we fix it?"

Harry took a closer look, reached out and attempted to shimmy it into position. He shrugged. "It's stuck in its' base. If I were at home, I'd spray it with lubricant and see if it has marks from being stripped or jammed incorrectly."

Dumbledore beamed. "Well done Harry. Grab the silicone spray from my bag, will you?"

Harry dug in the bag and sprayed where Dumbledore suggested. Dumbledore found no scratches and slid the bolt several times into place, locking it and pulling on the lap bar. After a few tugs, he declared it 'Safe', just jammed initially. He instructed Harry to check the other lap bars and alert him if any seemed unsafe. As Harry fiddled with another latch, music began to blare, and the flashing lights buzzed to life overhead.

"I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, but heaven knows I'm miserable now. I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now."

Harry grinned at the lyrics and glanced up at the booth. Snape looked as disinterested as before, reading his book, raising a thin hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. Harry snorted and got back to work.

. . .

The only odd thing about Hermione and Ron being operators was that they worked a different shift than Harry, and they didn't spend as much time all together as Harry thought they would. It wasn't all bad, though. Being maintenance meant Harry got to toy with metal and electricity, something his robot kits at home could only supply in miniature. And better yet, he got paid to do it. He also got to spend loads of time with the mysterious enigma that was Albus Dumbledore.

Having lived in a small town most of his life, Albus had travelled for a few years and, upon returning a wealthy man, had opened an amusement park, of all things, and called it "Whatnot". The park quickly became a local hot-spot and a common first job for the local kids. Harry's parents and their friends were a part of that tradition, and now Harry was, too. Despite gentle nudging from his wife Minerva, Dumbledore refused to step down as the head of maintenance, jumping and tugging and soldering things most of the day, though he must have been pushing sixty.

Harry sat on a stool in the "maintenance tower" toward the end of his first week, pulling together items he wanted for his tool bag. He'd felt honored that Albus had deemed him worthy of his own bag (something Snape had openly scoffed at when Harry had mentioned it).

He spotted a small operation system with loose wires dangling from the bottom, eyed the buttons: 'Start', 'Recording', 'Bay' and 'Emergency Stop'. He pressed them all one by one, for fun's sake. "Thank you for joining us today on the 'Magic Carpet'." Harry chuckled to himself, attempting to impersonate Snape. "Please keep all limbs inside the ride if you don't wish to lose them. If your partner goes flying, duck for cover until the operator can assist you."

"That's not the script at all." Harry jumped and attempted to whirl around, managing only to slide off the stool onto the floor. Towering above him stood Severus Snape. God, he was tall.

"Have you seen Albus?" Snape said quietly, deep voice cutting through the silence.

"Last I knew, he was upstairs." Harry offered, lying sprawled on the floor. Snape surprised him by offering a hand and pulling Harry swiftly to his feet. Snape climbed the ladder to the second floor as Harry gaped, and he heard the muffled conversation as Severus woke Albus from a nap and explained there was a lost child currently crying in his booth. Severus had called over the intercom, but Albus had been dead asleep.

Harry slipped back as Severus descended the ladder, followed quickly by Albus, his beard a feathery mess. Albus glanced as Harry with a small smile. "It's past your shift now, isn't it?"

"I was waiting for Ron and Hermione, sir. We have plans after they get off."

"Ah. Well, duty calls. Thank you for your help this week." And with that, Snape and Dumbledore left the cluttered room. Harry looked around, frowning. He still had a few hours to kill. Curiosity got the best of him, and he climbed the ladder. It was probably older than him and creaky as hell, but Harry was a natural climber and got up without too much trouble. The first thing he saw was a rumpled cot, probably the site of the alleged nap. It sat beneath large map of the United States with pushpins through a few of the major cities. Scanning through the room, Harry froze.

There in the corner sat a woman a little younger than Albus with her dark eyes looking right at him. After a moment, her expression softened and she smiled. "It's alright, Harry. Come here." Harry stopped, frozen, then shook his head and climbed fully onto the landing, stepping closer to the woman, who looked genuinely pleased to see him, though he didn't believe he'd ever met her before.

"Hello. I'm Harry Potter." Harry smiled, with a small wave.

Minerva's smile was similar to her husband's mischievous grin. It was something about the eyes. "I know who you are. You look just like your father, you know. Though you have your mother's eyes." Harry nodded. He'd heard as much, from everyone he'd ever run into in town. His parents had been high-school sweethearts, and popular to boot. Unfortunately, everyone knew them, and Harry was stopped by someone nearly every time he went out with greetings and well-wishes for himself and his parents.

"Are you Minerva?" Harry asked quietly. The woman nodded with a small smile. "Yes, yes I am. Albus told me all about you. It isn't often he takes on a maintenance assistant."

"I told him when I applied that I'm good with my hands." Harry admitted, blushing when Minerva chuckled. "I mean, I like to build things."

"So does Albus. Always tinkering, always working. I've told him to retire, but I don't believe he ever will. He's too restless . . ." Minerva trailed off, and stood from her armchair. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Harry politely declined, admitting he had made plans for later that night, and made his leave, descending the ladder and leaving the tower to the park. It was getting dark now, and the ride lights looked festive, making Harry smile. He'd always enjoyed coming here and now he could say he was part of the magic.

Harry spotted Ron at the Pirate Ship and told him excitedly about the storage room with Snape and meeting Minerva. Ron made fun of Harry's fall from the stool and fear of the Pirate Ship, which swung from side to side and almost all the way over.

"Maybe if you ride it enough times, you won't be afraid anymore?"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

…

Harry ended up sitting next to a quiet nine year old who advised him to focus on seeing the city lights from up high, like flying. Harry couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the thought of 'flying'. He and Albus had spent over an hour that morning testing the seat bolts and lap bars on the Pirate Ship. His chances of soaring to a messy end were slim, but he would never stop being paranoid. As the ride began to swing higher and higher, he found there was some truth to the boy's words. Harry could see the town in all its lighted glory. He could also see the light in the top of the maintenance tower, probably Minerva reading or maybe eating dinner with Albus. Harry looked over to the Magic Carpet, spotting Snape as he made his rounds testing the lap bars, giggly teens scrunching back in their seats to avoid him.

Harry had been here many times before becoming an employee, and swore he would have remembered Snape had he ever seen him. Maybe if he'd always been with his father, they'd simply stayed away. But the Magic Carpet was a great ride. Harry felt a pang for never having ridden it before getting paid to do so. The Pirate Ship swung smaller and smaller, finally slowing to a stop. Harry thanked the boy and stumbled off, patting Ron on the back and making his way to the snack bar for a soda.

He wound up on the stairs leading to the Magic Carpet, listening to the odd techno Snape had decided to play that night. Harry shot a glance at Snape in the operating booth. As usual he was devouring a novel, only glancing up on occasion to make sure the ride was functioning normally. Harry chuckled, but froze as Snape's laser-like gaze settled on him. Harry raised his soda in a mock salute and grinned. At first it seemed like Snape would ignore him completely, but after a moment, he smirked, standing to leave the booth and make his rounds around the ride. Harry finished his soda and tossed it in the nearest garbage can before hoisting himself over a rail and landing neatly in the doorway of Snape's booth, just as the man turned the corner. He thought Snape may have startled minutely, but it was hard to tell.

"Evening, Snape. What are you reading?"

Snape slid by Harry and sat in his chair, ignoring Harry in favor of making his standard boarding announcement. "Something you've probably never heard of." He said after a bit.

"Try me."

" 'A Brief History of Time', Stephen Hawking."

"It doesn't look brief to me. Quite a few pages, in fact."

"Two hundred and fifty six, and no pictures. Not quite your level, I'd reckon."

Harry had to laugh at that; he couldn't help it. "Very funny, Snape. Hilarious, really. Umm, how do you choose your music?"

"Do I get a snack after this interrogation?"

"It depends on how co-operative you are."

Snape closed his book with a sour look as the ride slowed to a stop. "Unfortunately, Potter, not everyone gets paid to scuttle carelessly on amusement rides all day. If you'll kindly leave me to it . . ."

"Yes. Of course, sorry." Harry blushed and hopped back over the railing, dodging a few younger kids as he spotter Ron and Hermione near the fountain in the courtyard. Ron spotted him first and nudged Hermione.

"There you are!" Hermione shouted, hugging him hard once he got close enough. "We were starting to worry about you."

"We thought Snape might have abducted you if you stayed up there much longer." Ron said with a smirk as they left through the employee exit toward the parking lot. Hermione's car awaited them, a beat up hand-me-down from a favorite aunt, and Harry crawled into the cramped backseat, pulling his backpack from beneath the seat. "What is it with everyone thinking Snape's a creeper? " Harry protested weakly, slipping into a worn t-shirt as Hermione and Ron settled into the front. "He's antisocial, sure, but kidnapping?"

"It's just . . ." Ron clucked his tongue, thinking. "There have been rumors for years about Snape, you know? He never says a kind word to anyone, not even Dumbledore. He listens to weird music and forces it on everyone else with that friggin' ride. I don't think he's ever tried to leave. Why would he? He's got everything he wants already . . . What I wanna know is why a thirty something year old man operates the Magic Carpet and cares about nothing else."

Harry shrugged as Hermione started the car and nudged down the radio volume. "I withhold all judgement until we learn more about him. I will say, he's warmed up to Harry quite nicely."

"He insulted me twice within the span of two minutes." Harry choked out. "How is that 'warmed up'?"

Ron laughed. "He's actually talked to you, voluntarily. That makes two people now that we know of, including Dumbledore, who he supposedly likes."

Hermione laughed as they pulled onto the highway. "Where to, gentle-boys? Drive in or skating rink?"

"I haven't been skating in years." Harry mused, handing Ron the backpack at the sight of his grasping hand. "I'd prefer the rink. Your make-out in the back seat was too obvious last time."

"Hey! We were discussing major plot points!" Hermione insisted.

"Between make out sessions, sure." Harry shot back, and Ron made an odd choking noise. "I vote skating rink."

"I agree." Ron chimed in after containing himself.

"Alright." Hermione sighed, taking the exit for the next town over. It was a Thursday midsummer night. Hopefully it wasn't too crowded.

…

It wasn't. The trio was alone besides a birthday party of about ten kindergartners. Nearly all of them had safety skates attached to their shoes, and after the initial annoyance, Harry got used to avoiding small children like any other obstacle.

Hermione and Ron had begun dating before school let out, this Harry knew, but it was a different matter completely to watch them skate hand-in-hand around small children who were doing the same thing for different reasons. This led to a lovely incident where Hermione was abruptly cut off by a thick group of five year olds holding hands and fell hard on her side. Harry raced back and crouched beside her as Ron did the same thing.

"Are you alright?" Ron fretted, poking Hermione in the hip until she slapped his hand away. "I'm just sore. I should be fine." Hermione struggled to her feet and almost fell again as she tried to push off from her injured leg.

"That's it, Mione. We're going to the hospital."

"But I'll be-"

"We're not taking any chances. Remember Harry's arm?"

Harry groaned at that. He'd broken an arm Freshman year and hadn't known for a week. Harry had ignored the pain until he'd contracted a fever and his mother had a good look at him. He'd winced one too many times, and she'd taken him to the E. R. Harry had hated hospitals for as long as he could remember, having stayed overnight one too many times as a child.

Hermione complained mightily, but Ron was able to talk her into going, although Harry elected to stay behind and call his parents for a ride. He waved them off and, after sitting on the bench for a bit while debating when to call his parents, re-entered the rink. Harry skated, kneeling to help whenever a child happened to fall in front of him. A ballad came on, and the DJ announced that it was 'couples skate'. The children paired off, and Harry declined several offers and went to the snack bar for a water bottle, shuffling over to a bench for a well-earned rest.

He didn't notice the new arrival until it was too late.

"A little far from Godric's Hollow, aren't we?"

Harry looked up sharply to see none other than Severus Snape, perched on the bench next to him and lacing up a pair of skates that looked older than Harry himself. He frowned. "I'm not sure I want to know how you know where I live. And you say that like it's a bad thing."

Snape smirked. "I haven't had the best experience with people from those parts."

"Well, that's too bad. Here." Harry grinned and held out his hand to shake. "I'm Harry Potter. What's your name?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at the offered hand and stood gracefully, skating away across the neon carpet to the rink. Harry dropped his hand with a grunt, watching Snape push off and skirt around five year olds with ease, turning around to skate backwards for a bit.

"Showoff" Harry grumbled, standing to find a payphone to call for a ride.

…

The party of five year olds were understandably upset about having to leave, but it was getting late and their mothers had already packed up the cake (after saving Harry and Snape pieces for 'being so helpful'). Snape skated leisurely alone until all the five year olds were gone. After staring longingly at his cake for a moment, Harry joined him.

"There's cake, Snape. I know you heard me."

Snape hummed and continued to ignore Harry. They skated together for a few songs, keeping pace but not talking. Snape seemed more at ease out here than in his booth even, which Harry hadn't known was possible. Harry's stomach growled and he realized he'd only had a bowl of cereal and soda for most of the day. "I'm eating my damn cake. If you're not there in a minute, I'm eating yours too." Harry skated to the table and rested for a moment, wondering how long it would take his parents to get here, and decided he had more than enough time to eat his cake and get outside before one of them noticed he was talking to Snape without adult supervision. Not that he was too far from being an adult himself, but . . .

Snape glided up to the other side of the table and sat, pulling a plate to himself. "Marble cake? Passable."

"Passable? This cake is amazing, Snape. You're lucky I didn't eat yours already out of spite."

Snape shook his head and ate his cake, watching Harry with a smirk. As usual, Harry began to fidget.

"Um, how long have you been coming here?"

Snape was quiet long enough that Harry began to ask the question again. "Since they opened. It must have been at least ten years ago."

"I've never seen you here before."

"I tend to come out when I believe I will be alone." Snape murmured, reaching up to scratch just above an ear.

"I've noticed." Harry watched Snape's wrist, losing his train of thought for a moment. He deadpanned after a moment, "If you're a vampire, now's the time to say so. I'll stop hanging around you so much."

"That's all it would take?" Snape barked a laugh. "I wish I had known that a few weeks ago, I would have-"

"Harry James Potter." Harry froze at the sound of his Mother's voice. Her tone was . . . Questionable. "I've been waiting outside for ten minutes, and I finally decided to come looking for you."

"Sorry, Mom." Harry sighed, turning to look at his mother, who had her robe tied tightly around her pajamas. "I lost track of time."

"I can see that." She said with a frown, turning to Snape. "Hello, Severus. It's nice to see you again."

"Lily." Snape said with a slow nod. "Mrs. Potter, my mistake."

Lily batted a hand, expression softening a tad. "I've been Lily longer than a Potter, anyway. How are you Severus? I see you've met my son."

"I've had the misfortune, yes. He seems to have taken a liking to me."

Harry blushed. "I have not! Mom, he's-"

"I know. Trust me, I know. Let's go, son. It's late."

Harry removed his skates and returned them to the attendant as Snape and his mother chatted. Harry could see why his father had been jealous of their friendship. His mother was one of the few people Snape was somewhat nice to. He wasn't exactly nice to Harry. It was more like he was playing with him. Harry put his shoes back on and stood beside his mother as she said her goodbyes and lead him to the car. The silence lasted only until they got onto the highway.

"If your father had been the one coming to get you, there would have been a fight."

Harry sighed, looking out the window. "I didn't plan on running into Snape, Mom. And the cake was from a party that left . . . I'm sorry. I know how Dad feels about him."

Lily pursed her lips. "It's not only the past, Harry. Your father's afraid . . ."

Harry lifted a hand to gnaw on his stub nails, and his mother automatically pushed his hand away. It was an old routine. "What is Dad afraid of? Is there something he isn't telling me about Snape, besides everything?"

"Harry, stop. Your father wants you to be safe, and . . . The only way I convinced him that Snape and I weren't together in the past was to tell him the truth."

"Which is?"

"Snape is gay, and has been since we were kids, which is why your father doesn't want him anywhere near you. He already worries that you are too, and-"

"Maybe I am." Harry grumbled, angry that his father hadn't bothered to mention this to him, but insisted he stay away from Snape. "If he hates gay people so much, maybe I'll just move in with the Weasleys. Molly's always trying to adopt me, anyway."

"That's not the point, Harry James. Your father loves you no matter what. You have to know that." She sighed and turned down the radio. "But he doesn't want you to get caught up with a man that never left a high school job and isn't very nice on top of that."

"I guess neither of you know me well at all." Harry bit out. He toyed with his seat belt, feeling trapped, but with nowhere to go. How much worse would this be coming from his father? "You're both assuming I'm stupid enough to fall for whoever talks to me for long enough. Well, I'm not. Snape is not a nice person, but he's worth getting to know. We both know that. Just because Dad can't see things from another angle doesn't mean he's always right."

"Harry . . ."

Harry turned up the radio and crossed his arms.

"You're acting like a child, Harry James."

"This conversation makes me feel like one. Please, please just trust me in this. And don't tell Dad. I don't want to have to explain something I haven't even figured out myself. I wasn't planning on telling anyone . . ."

"Harry, I've known for years."

"Mom magic, I guess." Harry sighed. "I'll tell him eventually. I just don't know how."

Lily pulled into the driveway and parked the car, pulling her son into a tight hug. "You'll need to tell your father before he finds out on his own."

"I know. I'll find a way, eventually."

…

It turned out Hermione hadn't broken anything, but had managed to sprain her wrist of all things. She was back to work on Saturday and operating normally, if not with more caution. Harry interrogated Ron about the trip to the hospital and what the doctor had said.

"She's fine. You know Hermione. Even if she had broken something, she would still want to be back to work as soon as possible."

Harry nodded, glancing over at Hermione, leaning into the microphone to give her standard warning, using more words than the script called for in order to be more 'informative'. "I ran into Snape at the rink after you left. We ate cake."

Ron's eyes widened. "What did your dad have to say about that?"

"Luckily, it was my mom that came to get me. She told me in the car that if it had been my dad, there would have been a fight."

"She's not wrong about that." Ron shook his head and faked a smile. "Did you have a nice ride home?" he said in a sing-song voice.

"Oh, sure. If you consider a tense discussion about Snape being gay and me coming out when I really had no intention to 'nice'."

Ron patted Harry's shoulder sympathetically. "I don't think coming out is ever 'graceful'. Charlie came out as 'asexual' last year, and Mom still hasn't gotten over it."

"Asexual? Like a plant?"

"Like he has no interest in anyone and probably never will. It doesn't make too much of a difference. There's so many of us already, there'll be seventy grandchildren before she knows it."

Harry snorted and smacked Ron on the back as Albus walked up to where they were sitting. "Hello, young Weasley. Harry, I need your assistance here on the Pirate Ship. I've gotten a complaint about one of the lap bars. You can relieve Ms. Granger, Ronald."

Ron nodded and darted off to relieve his girlfriend. "Which one, sir?" Harry asked as he fished out the 'Out of Order' sign from the storage box.

"Far right, over there. A small child was hanging on for dear life about an hour ago. It took this long to calm him down and for word to get back to me."

Harry nodded and took a look at the lap bar, frowning and moving to the other side to have a look. "I think this bolt is a different width. Would that affect it rattling or not closing completely?"

"Over time, I believe so. What sizes are they?

Harry checked and pulled his limited stock of bolts out of his tool bag, as well as a sizer.

"Where did you find those? I've been looking for my sizer for months."

"I like to dig around. Sorry."

"No, no, it's quite alright. Hand me my ratchet wrench will you?"

Harry held and turned as instructed, and when they tested the latch bar, it held.

"Should I take the sign down?"

"I'd like to check all the lap bars first. Start on that side, will you?"

Harry went seat by seat, checking lap bars, and by the time they were done, he was covered in sweat, the summer sun warming him considerably. Albus smiled after inspecting Harry's work, his blue eyes almost seeming to sparkle. "You can take an early lunch, Harry. Thank you." Harry put his tools away and stashed his bag, spotting Hermione and walking over to fill her in on what had happened Thursday night. Hermione nodded gravely as he detailed the rink, cake, and less than ideal conversation on the ride home.

Hermione pulled him into a hug, pulling away after a moment with a grimace. "You smell horrible. What have you been up to?"

Harry lifted an arm to smell himself and grinned. "Does my manly odor bother you, 'Mione? I've been working outside for over an hour. What do you expect?"

"I expect you to wear enough deodorant and cologne that this wouldn't be an issue." She said with a laugh, motioning Dumbledore over as he passed by. "Is there a shower that Harry can use? He smells horrible."

"I do not!" Harry insisted, but Dumbledore took a close look at him and chuckled, which Harry took as a sign that he looked about as grody as he smelled.

"I believe there's still an attached shower in the men's restroom down here. Why don't I meet you there with a towel?"

Harry sighed but had to admit a cool shower sounded nice. He may have forgotten to put on deodorant this morning as he'd been in a hurry to avoid talking to his father . . . In the men's restroom, Dumbledore handed Harry a towel and an extra uniform shirt, assuring him that he could take all the time he needed as there weren't any pressing repairs at the moment. Harry found the shower easily enough, but didn't trust the ancient looking soap one bit. It would have to be a quick rinse, then.

Harry closed the curtain and draped the towel and shirt over the rail, starting the water and stepping back until it was the right temperature. He began to relax little by little under the warm spray, trying to forget about the conversation in the car, or the fact that he would have to face his father at some point, who's supposedly had suspicions already. Harry supposed he hadn't really tried to hide it.

He hadn't thought much about how he'd only dated once, and it hadn't gone well. Cho Chang had been pretty and smart, and she'd liked Harry first, which was probably why he'd asked her out. They'd dated for a few months in school, and kissing her was nice, he guessed. Not arousing, but nice. And Ron's little sister Ginny had liked him since she'd first laid eyes on him, when he'd been in sixth grade and she'd been in fifth. He liked Ginny a lot, as a friend. She was honest and clever, and unlike most girls he had met, didn't give a damn if people thought she was pretty. She wanted respect, and earned it easily.

But Harry wasn't attracted to Ginny, any more than he was attracted to Hermione, who at this point was the sister he'd never had. And maybe it had started with Oliver Wood. The older boy had been Harry's soccer coach throughout middle school and part of high school until he'd graduated, and Ron had made fun of his hero worship for months. But was it hero worship? Harry couldn't forget the wet dreams he'd had over the years. Oliver smiling in the winter sunlight, Oliver ruffling his hair after a hard-won victory, Oliver kissing his way down his chest . . .

Harry shook his head to clear it. He wanted a shower. He was here to get clean not to . . . think about Snape's wrists apparently. "Really? No, not now." Harry groaned and scowled down at his erection. It was a lost cause. He avoided his erection until, in a fit of irritation, Harry quickly grasped it and tried to finish before someone came in and heard him. His breath quickened, and Harry's head knocked against the cool tile as he hissed "Sev-" and cut himself off as he came.

Harry blushed, rinsing off his hand and the evidence of his orgasm. He grabbed the towel and dried off, feeling a bit like he might cry. This was frustrating, knowing he shouldn't want anything to do with Snape, but being unable to stop thinking about him. He grabbed the shirt and pulled it on, realizing he'd left his shorts on the counter just as he heard a cough and one of the toilets flush. FUCK.