Love Story
Kagura Kyo Shinra
Warning
: This is shounen-ai story, which means it has boys loving boys. So do not read it, if you do not like that kind of stuff.Disclaimer
: I do not own Harry Potter.At night, the halls of Hogwarts were not mealy quiet, they were downright void of all life. As Harry Potter wandered the empty halls for some kind of safe hiding place, an eerily echo reverberated throughout. He had on his invisibility cloak, to hide himself from wandering eyes, but Snape knew about it and would not be easily fooled.
A second pair of footsteps reached Harry's ears, and he pressed his back against the stone wall, holding his breath. His fears were confirmed as Snape appeared around the corner. In his hand was a piece of parchment that Harry immediately recognized. It was the reason he was hiding in the middle of the night rather than safe in bed.
It was not suppose to be seen by anybody, not even Ron and Hermione, but the very worst person who could have seen it, had. He had scribbled it during potions and left it in the room, being too occupied with defending himself from Malfoy's taunts. Upon returning ten minutest later, he saw Snape reading it, and Snape saw him. Since then, Harry had been hiding in various places around Hogwarts, too ashamed to even face anyone back in his tower.
"Potter?" Snape asked quietly, his eyes searching every corner.
Harry's chest began to feel like it would explode, and he realized he had been holding his breath since he first heard Snape. He could not hold it any longer, and Snape would hear him, if he moved. On the other hand, if he stayed, Snape would surly hear him gasp for air. Calling on all his courage, he decided that running away was the better choice. He moved, and as soon as he had, Snape moved.
"Potter, you can't get away. I'll chase you all night, if I have to."
Harry began with a good head start, but halfway down the hall, he tripped over his cloak, and like a bad horror movie, fell to the hard stone floor with a hard thud, his cloak entangling with his legs. With the stone cold floor pressed against his cheek, Harry wondered why he had even bothered to get out of bed that morning.
Class had been boring. Potions was always torture, but it was never boring. They were not mixing any potions, just watching some wiz-a-video that had to have been made around the same time Hogwarts was built. He was suppose to be taking notes, but five minutes into the movie his mind was beginning to wander, and so were his eyes.
Snape seemed as interested in the video as Harry was, although he had probably watched it every year since he had been a professor. There was something calming about Snape as he stared at the screen with glossed over eyes. Harry knew he should not indulge in his feelings, but it just felt so good to imagine Snape's naked body wrapped around his own.
Imagination was as far as it could go, and Harry's imagination went as far is it could. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry was halfway through a love story that took place somewhere in a castle and had Harry in a dress, but he could not remember the exact details. He did not want to remember the exact details.
Now, as he lay on the floor and struggled to free his legs from his cloak, he found himself deeply wishing he would have just watched the movie.
"Well Potter, it seems you're a little tied up," Snape said, amused.
He reached down and snatched Harry's cloak before he could stop him. It felt as though Snape had taken the very clothing he was wearing away.
"Get up," he hissed and pulled Harry to his feet with one yank of his arm.
Harry pulled his arm away and backed up until he hit the wall. Snape advanced on him with a scowl so hideous that Harry began to wish he was standing before Voldemort rather than in this suddenly sinister hallway.
"Very interesting piece of work, Potter," Snape said venomously.
He threw the paper at Harry, but Harry did not catch it, and it fell to the floor. Snape picked it up again and shoved it into Harry's hand.
"Well Potter, don't you want to finish it?"
Harry attempted to speak, but he had apparently lost the ability to form any coherent noises. He squeezed his hand so tightly the parchment squished into a crumpled ball and fell back to the floor.
"I guess you think that it's funny, don't you?" Snape asked.
He grabbed Harry by the hair and threw him across the hallway to the other wall. Harry's head hit the stone with a thud so powerful that his vision went blurry.
"Stop it," Harry cried. "I didn't do anything wrong."
Snape stared at Harry with an intense hatred that he had never even given Sirius.
"Do you think it's funny?" Snape snarled. "How did you find out anyways, Potter? Did you sneak around in my memories again! Did you! Answer me!"
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
Harry shoved Snape backwards, but he pushed him so hard that Snape tripped over his own feet and crashed to the ground. As the horror of what he had just done dawned on Harry, he began down the hall as fast as his young legs could carry him. A few feet down the hall he heard a quiet moan from behind. Despite his gut instinct, Harry turned around.
Snape was sitting on the floor inspecting his ankle. It looked normal, but the fact that he could not move it, indicated it was sprained. Snape's eyes met Harry's with a dangerous glare.
"Get out of here, Potter. Why don't you go write some more stories."
Harry headed back towards Snape, feeling much like an antelope heading towards a wounded lion. Snape tried to get up but fell to the ground again. He looked up at Harry with loathing, but Harry looked deeper and saw something under the hatred and anger. He saw fear. Snape was afraid.
"I'm sorry that I have developed some kind of attraction to you, but I don't see why I should be punished for that," Harry said defensively.
Snape used his good leg and his arms to pull himself away from the boy, making Harry feel more like he was the lion.
"Don't try to be cute, Potter. I'm not naïve. I fell for that trick with your father, and I'd rather die than fall for it again."
Harry sat on the floor beside Snape and picked the paper with the story on it. He fumbled absently with it then shoved it in his pocket.
"My father was attracted to you?"
Snape rubbed his leg and felt around for his wand, but he had apparently left it somewhere else.
"Get away from me. You think I'm going to reveal the story of how your father humiliated me. You're exactly the same as him. You find something out about me and you try to get me to make a fool of myself."
"That's not true!"
Harry was beginning to put the pieces into place. His father had not had a crush on Snape, Snape had had a crush on him. And James used it for his own twisted games. Of course Snape would think Harry was doing the same thing. But wait, did that mean Snape was attracted to Harry?
"Hang on," Harry said thoughtfully. "Are you saying you're attracted to me?"
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. From somewhere deep inside, Snape found great strength. He used his good leg to leap at Harry and drag him down to the floor. Sitting on top of Harry, he tried desperately to choke him to death. He tried to get away, but Snape was far to strong for him. A sudden sleepiness washed over Harry, and he closed his eyes. The fear of death was not there, only a pure peaceful warmth. Just as he was clinging onto that peace, it vanished, and he opened his eyes.
The same fear that had been there before danced in Snape's eyes, and he called Harry's name, desperate.
"I'm fine," Harry whispered.
Snape did not say anything. With an audible relieved sigh, he helped Harry to sit up. Harry pushed him away and rubbed his tender throat.
"Damn it Snape, I hope everybody I like doesn't attack me when I tell them how I feel."
"Just stop it," Snape said with a quiver in his voice as though he was trying desperately to grasp onto a fleeting hope, but at the same time refusing to accept that something so good could exist.
Harry was losing himself and everything in that quiver. How could a person that showed such pure hatred for everything have something so human inside. There was something more to Snape than what he had thought, and there was something more in his feelings for Snape. It was new and fresh, and it breathed an emotion into Harry that he would never release and never forget.
"You can read my mind," Harry said quietly, unsure. "I won't try to stop you."
Snape looked Harry in the eyes, and soon Harry felt something he had grown use to. Images of things in his life passed so quickly that he couldn't even comprehend them. Snape was reaching into every corner. Harry felt sadness, joy, jealousy, anger all at once. Even when Snape dived into his thoughts on Sirius, he let them go. Usually he would have tried to fight Snape out of his mind, but he had asked for it this time, and more than anything, he wanted Snape to know him even better than he knew himself.
Just when he thought his mind would explode from all the quick flashes of memories, something slowed long enough for him to see it clearly. It was not a memory, it was a fantasy, a longing dream that he had wished for since he first saw Snape, and mixed with it were those new feelings he could not yet understand. He opened his mind to Snape, letting him devour everything. Then Snape was gone.
"You, aren't lying?" Snape asked, but he had not meant for it to be a question.
Harry shook his head. He got to his feet and held his hand out to Snape.
"I'll help you to your room. You seem to be injured."
"I don't need help," Snape said simply.
Snape carefully got to his feet, but one step on his bad leg, and he was back on the floor. Harry sighed and pulled him back up, draping Snape's arm around his neck. He picked up his invisibility cloak with his foot, grabbed it and threw it over them. It would be hard to explain why he was practically carrying Snape down the hall, if anyone saw them.
"Wait a second," Snape asked. "Don't you have your wand? Can't you just fix my leg?"
"I could," Harry said coyly. "But that wouldn't be as much fun."
"Is your leg better now."
Harry stood in the center of Snape's living room, feeling more naïve than he ever had. Snape's apartment was filled with beautifully elaborate art. Various works on potions were scattered about, and open books lay everywhere. Harry's Hogwarts room was covered in posters of Quiddich players and had candy and clothes thrown all around. As Harry stood in that ancient room, he realized that the idea of being with Snape was absolutely perfect, but the reality of it was frightening.
"Yes, that spell did the trick,"
"Well, I probably should be going," Harry said slowly.
"What's the rush?" Snape purred.
Harry's stomach dropped. Snape had just purred. He'd never even heard Snape laugh, never seen him smile, and now, he was purring. Harry could feel his face burning, and his chest felt like it did when he was holding his breath. He checked to make sure he was breathing and did not know whether to feel relieved or horrified that he was.
"Oh you know, classes and stuff," Harry said nervously.
Snape stood from the couch he had been sitting on and stalked towards Harry.
"Harry, you don't really want to leave, do you?"
Snape's lips curved into a tiny smile. It was magnificent.
"I don't know," Harry squeaked.
"Are you afraid, Harry?" Snape breathed.
"I've never…"
"Maybe you should just go to your room," Snape said, tired.
Harry nodded slowly, and walked toward the door. He turned back to look at Snape, who was back on the couch It would not be too bad to remain Snape's student. There would be later. When Harry was older, there would be more time. It would be okay.
"It's not like this is the end. I mean we can always try something later," Harry said shyly. "Right Severus?"
"Please Potter, I prefer my students to call me Professor," Snape said coolly.
Harry's chest tightened. Snape was so fragile, and he had broken him with his cowardliness.
"What are you thinking?" Harry asked suddenly.
He quickly walked back to Snape and kneeled on the floor before him. Snape looked at him as though he had started speaking a different language.
"You want to know what I am thinking?" Snape asked incredulous. "I'm thinking that chasing you around the school all night was a complete waste of my time."
"That's not true! Don't you understand the emotions that I've realized for you, Severus. I see something that I never saw before. I feel something that I never felt before. I can't help it if I'm young and afraid, but I won't let that fear take me over. I'm not leaving, Severus. I won't go anywhere," Harry said. Well, that is what he wanted to say.
Instead he flung himself at Snape, wrapping his small arms around his professor's shoulders, and pressed their lips together, hard. Snape deepened their kiss and pulled Harry onto his lap. Both their bodies shivered as Snape's hands unabashedly plowed under Harry's shirt. He was lost in the body resting against his, and without any regrets, gave in to the miracle that was talking over him.
The morning sun crept across the living room floor of Snape's apartment and assaulted Harry's face as he was woken, too early, from his magical slumber. The heavy arm stretched across his chest relieved his fears, telling him that everything was real, and everything was different, but had it changed for the good?
He shut his eyes tightly as he felt Snape's body move. Through closed eyelids, he could feel Snape watching him, studying him. A soft hand pressed against his cheek and rubbed it with a caring Harry had not known since his parents' deaths.
Harry opened his eyes. They were filled with tears, but he was smiling.
"I'm not any good at showing how I feel, Harry," Snape began. "But I think I can show you more than you've been getting, if you'll let me."
"You'll never get rid of me, Severus," Harry said shyly and pulled Snape against him.
He listened to Snape's heartbeat and could feel something growing inside of the older man. A hidden, almost forgotten, part of Snape was blooming, and Harry was there to see it all. Below the poisonous fangs, Harry felt all the wonderful things in life that were waiting to wrap him in their warmth. And somewhere inside himself, Harry felt something opening up.
Owari
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Werewolves Rock!