Severus Snape was not happy. No, not in the least. He watched as night after night, Potter snuck out of his house, sometimes wearing the most questionable things, and he wouldn't return until the sun started peeking over the horizon. He would place a tracking charm on the boy from a distance, as he had been instructed to do should Harry leave the premises, and wait.
All of the Order members had been told not to interfere should Harry decide to leave, and inform Dumbledore instead, unless the wards went off. And they only would if he was under the Imperious, or was in the hidden presence of a Death Eater upon his return.
But Snape had had enough of the boy's blatant disregard for safety and rules. It was pure stupidity. He decided to follow the boy one night, to see what it was he got up to so often.
Harry was back at The Hook once again. He'd been four times since his first initial appearance, and he was quite popular.
Dressed in an even more revealing outfit than the first time, he stood on one of the platforms in the middle of the dance floor, and swayed sensually to the music. No one seemed to care that he was obviously underage, and that suited Harry just fine.
Not that he was ready to have sex with anyone there, as he didn't really know them and that felt like a little too much. But he liked the attention anyway. It was different than the usual forms of attention directed at The-Boy-Who-Lived. It wasn't murderous, annoying, or embarrassing. It made him feel…. normal.
As he slid his hand down his thigh, ass pert and his body bent perfectly at the waist, someone shouted from the crowd.
"Strip!"
It sent off a chain reaction, and soon all the people watching were chanting for Harry to remove his clothes. Thrilled at the idea, and with more than a few drinks humming in his brain, he complied.
Slowly, he started with the thin shirt that only went to mid chest. He felt along it and then pulled it off, throwing it to the crowd. They cheered for more.
Heart pounding in his chest, he pulled off his boots, leaving them on the platform, and hooked his thumbs under the hem of the tight leather shorts which showed off half his ass cheeks already.
He slid the shorts down to his ankles, showing his tight, round ass and his juvenile cock. Harry was blushing brightly by now, even the drinks didn't stop that.
But the cheers from the crowd and the warm air on his naked flesh made him feel…. Thrilled. He resumed dancing, without bothering to put his clothes back on, or wonder where they went.
At the end of the night, he had to borrow something from Adam so he wouldn't have to go home naked.
"Nice show, Harry." Adam had whispered in his hear, an errant hand rubbing down his back and making Harry shiver, before he was good-naturedly pushed out the door.
Severus Snape was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, flabbergasted. He didn't think that had ever happened before. But it was true. And so was the fact that Harry Potter, the supposed Savior of the Wizarding World, was stripping in a muggle fetish club. At sixteen.
And he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
Before Severus saw anything that would stain his mind, or bring his ethics into question, he left. Apparating back outside the bloodwards to Number four, Privet Drive, he stayed hidden in the shadows as he thought.
He needed to do something about this. It could not be allowed to continue. If wind of this ever reached the Dark Lord, or any of his followers, there would be a bloodbath. Muggles and wizards alike would die, and it would all be because of one selfish little boy.
Snape was about to apparate outside the Hogwarts wards, and tell Dumbledore of his discovery, when a thought occurred to him.
Dumbledore already knew of the almost nightly escapes, and had done nothing to stop them. He would either do nothing with this development as well, or would do something to make Potter's rebellion worse. But Potter couldn't be allowed to continue his excursions to such places. It was dangerous, reckless, stupid, and completely adolescent. And what was he thinking, drinking at his age? He already had too few brain cells for that sort of behavior.
No, Snape wouldn't tell the Headmaster about this. Instead, he would deal with it himself.
When Harry finally arrived home, he was almost relieved. The sun was already rising, and he was freezing in the borrowed clothes. Sneaking back into his room like usual, climbing up the tree right outside his window and slipping inside, he was careful not to bump the side of the house. Standing in the center of the pitiful bedroom, he was just about to slide the borrowed clothes off his frame before someone cleared their throat behind him.
He whirled around, nearly losing his precarious balance, eyes wide and heart jumping. His eyes only widened further as he saw who it was. Professor Snape was standing by the closet, looking both menacing and smug at the same time.
"Wh-what?" Harry slurred out, blinking rapidly and hoping that this was just a hallucination from too much absinthe. If Professor Snape was really here…
"Mr. Potter, clueless as always I see." He said snidely, and Harry knew then that it was all too real.
"What're you doin' in my room?" He asked, in what he hoped was a normal tone.
Snape rose a brow at the obvious slur in his words, and took a step closer. "Potter, do not try and play dumb with me. Although with you, it might not be playing." He added under his breath.
He had expected Harry to get mad, maybe try and yell at him. What he had not expected was laughter. Harry was giggling furiously, a hand over his mouth.
"Just what is so funny?" Snape snarled. But Harry refused to stop laughing, and Snape wanted to strangle him, if only to keep him quiet.
"Potter!" He hissed as quietly as he could, and at the sound of his name, Harry's laughter died down. He looked at Snape with blurry, bloodshot eyes.
"What?" he asked, being a bit too loud. Snape sighed, knowing that if he continued at the volume, he would wake up the neighborhood. Quickly, he cast a muffling charm around the room, so his relatives would not find Harry like this. Or find Snape in Harry's room.
"Potter, what do you think you are doing?" He demanded, speaking at normal volume now. He crossed his arms menacingly over his chest as he watched Potter think.
"Having fun." Was his arrogant response. Snape's eyes narrowed.
"By having fun, you mean going to bars and stripping in front of crowds?" He mocked, but there was venom in his voice. Harry blinked, paling a bit before he blushed hard and looked away.
"I…" But there was no defense, no way he could get out of it because Snape had seen. Wait… "You followed me!" He blurt out, looking at Snape with anger in his unfocused eyes.
Snape scoffed. "Don't be so shocked Potter, it's my job to follow you, making sure you don't get carried away by that ridiculous Gryffindor bravado." He spat.
"Well… knock it off!" Harry slurred loudly.
Snap growled. "Oh, how I wish that were possible."
Harry blinked. "What does that mean?" he asked, confused. Why would Snape do something he didn't want to? He hardly seemed the type to be pushed around.
Snape sighed in response. "It means, Potter, that I have more important things to do with my time than be witness to your stupidity." He said, misinterpreting the question.
"And my stripping." Harry muttered. Snape brought a hand up to his temples as if he was getting a headache.
"What in Merlins name possessed you to do such a thing?" He asked exasperatedly.
Harry's immediate response was, "The crowd wanted me to."
"So you'll do anything a group of perverse strangers instructs?"
"I…" he had no real response to that. Maybe he would do anything for that crowd? He would certainly strip and dance for them. Snape just glared.
"You're going to explain things to me, Potter." He said, and Harry shook his head defiantly. "Potter." Snape growled in warning, but Harry didn't budge. Heaving a sigh, Snape looked right into Potter's eyes. "Would you rather I tell the Headmaster?" That got him.
Harry shook his head, eyes widening. "W-wait, don't do that!" He nearly pleaded. Snape was much too aggravated to gain pleasure form hearing Potter beg him for something. Potter, hearing Snape's silence like a death sentence, began to whine. "Look, I'll tell you whatever you want, okay?"
Snape snorted. "Very well, Potter. You can start by telling me how you even heard of that place." He looked at him expectantly, and Harry looked at his feet.
"I… well, I heard Dudley talking about a party. But he didn't end up going. So I went. And… I met this guy, and he invited me to another party, but at a different place." Harry muttered, shuffling his feet. He didn't know what Snape was going to do with this information, but it was preferable to having Dumbledore know.
Black eyes looked at him critically. "You accepted an invitation from a literal stranger? Potter, your recklessness and stupidity know no bounds." Snape said bitingly.
Harry just looked up and glared at him. "Hey, I was drunk!" He said, as if that was an acceptable excuse.
"Which leads me to my second question." Snape sneered. "What on earth made it sound like a good idea to get drunk in a room full of strangers, when the darkest wizard in history is out for your blood?"
Something flashed in those green eyes, and Snape was slightly taken aback by the emotion that came across in the boy's voice.
"I don't just want to go through life, wondering when I'm going to die. I want to experience things, make decisions for myself for once." Harry spoke quietly, but his words came across clearly in the silence of the dark room. Snape tried to sneer at him, but he was too shocked. He always thought Potter was content in being dragged along like a pawn in a game. Apparently not, and his vindication for his actions proved that.
"So, what then? Instead of waiting for danger to find you, you're going to go out and find the danger? How Gryffindor of you." Snape hissed, and shook his head. "You're lucky the Headmaster won't learn about this, not from me anyway. I'd make him chain you to the wall."
It was an innocent enough comment, made in irritation, but at Harry's blush he knew how the boy had taken it.
"Chain me…?" He whispered, looking up at Snape in a way that made him far too uncomfortable. So he snarled at the boy, ordered him to sleep off his inebriation, and removed the muffling charm as he left.
The asinine boy had no right to look at him like that, and he didn't want to wait for Potter to embarrass himself further. He refused to admit that the look had caused a twitch in his shorts.
But something had to be done, and Snape would have to do it himself.