Hello there, all you Snarry addicts! You know who you are! :D Ahem… Anyways, it is very lovely to have returned after 4 years of being MIA here on fanfiction. I still have been reading all of your wonderful stories over the years, but I have neglected my own creative outlet (in the sense of writing) for a very long time now. Though, this is not my first fic, it is most certainly my first Snarry storyline, so do give me all of the proper criticism you'd like (please keep in mind that this is AU, so it won't be EXACTLY true to Rowling's story). Snarry is my most favorite pairing probably ever, so I am very excited to keep on with this one. :D Your reviews as always are most helpful and appreciated. With that I must insist that you begin! ENJOI! ~MissFuru

P.S. Also, Harry Potter does not belong to me, but does belong to J.K. Rowling.

P.P.S. Severus is hers as well…

P.P.P.S. Dammit. D:

~~~~~~~~~~SNARRY~~~~~~~~~

That September in the Rain

CHAPTER 1

It was pouring on a dreary Friday evening. Raindrops fell in a fury, drenching everything in their path. Leaves of the few trees in town were shaking against the gusts of wind as water collected into murky puddles on the street. Gray clouds filled the entirety of the sky, making it seem later than what it was, and taunted the people struggling with their umbrellas to take cover in the nearest places possible.

Of said places was a quaint coffee shop that sat at the corner of the town square. The exterior was done in a beautiful dark gray stone, parts of which tendrils of ivy had made home to over the years. The building was complimented with a set of simply elegant, rounded wooden doors, and the sign swinging in the stormy breeze bore the name Madame Rosemerta's in a brilliant scrawl. Many of the circle shaped windows were illuminated with a warm glow of inviting light, giving the place a homely feel. From inside, two emerald eyes tentatively peered out.

"Looks like another summer storm has hit," Harry thought aloud to no one in particular. His breath fogged up the glass of the window he was perched at.

Madame Rosemerta's had become a second home for him when he had moved to the bustling town of Hogsmeade. There, Harry was attending his junior year at Hogwarts University with a degree in stage and film acting. His small but stylish apartment was located downtown, only a few blocks away from the coffee shop, and that's where he found himself spending most of his free time. Tonight, much the same as every week, Harry performed some of his favorite songs for the customers. Theater major that he was, he loved the thrill he received from being on stage and singing for even the smallest of an audience. Rosemerta even informed Harry happily one evening that he was becoming quite the local attraction in her shop.

That's where Harry found himself, stomach in knots of nervousness, as he did every Friday evening. The sounds of the pouring rain outside seemed to help in soothing his nerves, and the bleariness of the sky combined with the noise of thunder only assisted in calming him further. Harry silently thanked the storm with a smile.

Completely lost in thought, he jumped in surprise at a sudden presence behind him.

"Oi Harry! You should see the place, it's packed tonight!"

He turned to take in the sight of Ronald Weasley, a smile already starting on his lips at the sound of his best friend's voice. The boy's face was bright red with excitement in a hue that rivaled his hair. He bounced impatiently from foot to foot.

"Really?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Yeah!" Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Rosemerta even had to bring out some more chairs from the back because people were left standing! They all came rushing in to get out of the rain, but who cares? That bloody storm was on our side tonight!"

Harry chuckled at the other's triumphant face, impressed. The thought of even more people being there than usual made his nerves return in a way that had him feeling nauseas, and he decided to try and lighten his own mood a bit.

"Well Ron, I'm sure they won't stay very long once they get a good earful of my singing." He joked.

"Don't be like that, Harry! We all know that you are freaking awesome at this! That's why you have regulars! Speaking of which…" The red laughed, waggling his eyebrows. "You may catch the attention of some cute ladies. I saw some come in about ten minutes ago."

"Jeez. Is that the only thing you think about, mate? Girls, girls, and more girls?" Harry chided, although he was wearing a grin.

"Not the only thing."

They were interrupted by a head of bushy brown hair poking in through the door of the room, revealing a pretty, slender girl. Her face held the excitement which showed that she had noticed the crowd awaiting Harry in the coffee shop.

"Harry, you are running out of time, we have to get moving or people will likely start getting impatient." She announced matter-of-factly to both boys. "Come on, Ronald. Leave him be so he can finish getting ready."

"I was just giving him a bit of a pep talk, 'Mione." Her boyfriend mumbled under his breath, though he complied easily and turned to leave the room. "See you out there, mate."

Harry nodded, smiling affectionately towards his closest friends, thankful more than ever to have them in his life. Another wave of nerves hit him, and he took in a deep breath of air in attempt to push the feeling away. Turning, he sought out his reflection in a mirror to do a last minute check of his appearance, and frowned a bit. His handsome, olive colored face was framed by a mess of unruly black hair, pieces falling in all directions. He ran a nervous hand through them, trying to straighten them a bit, but came out unsuccessful as the strands fell back into their original places. Maybe a haircut should be in his near future?

Harry sighed.

Backing away from the small mirror, he attempted to get a good view of his outfit. Harry was a stocky body type- not too tall, but far from being considered short. He was built with wide shoulders that lead in to a lithe torso and lean but muscular legs. His deep green V-neck shirt paired with dark wash jeans clung to him tightly enough to accentuate his athletic build, and loosely enough to still be considered stylishly casual. With a few tugs to remove wrinkles in the clothing, another sigh escaped his lips. Satisfied with what he saw, Harry smiled slightly at his reflection before turning away in the direction of the stage.

It was show time.

~~~~~~~~SNARRY~~~~~~~~

Ron wasn't kidding when he said it was a full house. The usual comfortable couches and overstuffed chairs held an abundance of people, some Harry recognized and most unfamiliar to him. A pile of dripping umbrellas lay in the corner next to the front doors, leaving a growing puddle in their wake. Their owners were drying in the comfort of the coffee spiced air, steaming mugs being ordered all around to warm the crowd up. Happy conversation filled the room. Harry took in the sight, feeling slightly nervous, before stepping out onto the small stage.

All eyes turned to him.

The commotion that once inhabited the shop had now ceased, and everyone inside became quiet, waiting for Harry to speak. He felt himself gulp a bit, but forced a smile as he made way to the center of the stage. His usual microphone waited for him there, and he greeted it silently, wrapping his fingers around the bottom before announcing himself.

"Hello everyone!" His voice filled the small space. "Thank you all for coming out and showing support, despite the rain. I am Harry Potter, and I will be performing a few numbers for you tonight. I hope you enjoy them."

He ended his introduction per usual with a brief nod to Ron at the back of the shop to key up the music. The beginnings of a piano melody began softly drifting up to Harry, who was waiting patiently for his cue. The familiarity of the music instantly calmed him, and confidence set in as he took in the crowd with sparkling green eyes. Smile still in place; he closed them and began:

"All of me, why not take all of me?

Can't you see I'm no good without you?"

Harry's voice came out deep and smooth as ever and held all the jazzy qualities of a crooner. The women towards the front leaned forward adoringly, a few of them even sighing, which was nothing unusual. He was slowly getting accustomed to the attention his singing brought him, though much of the time it made him feel uncomfortable.

"Take my lips, I want to lose them.

Take my arms, I'll never use them."

Big band instruments entered the soundtrack loudly picking up the pace of the song, and Harry tapped his foot along with them. He couldn't quite remember when he had discovered his appeal for old music, but he did know once he had started listening to it that he was never going to stop. It was love.

"Your goodbyes, they left me with eyes that cry.

How can I get along without you?

You took the part that once was my heart.

So why not take all of me?"

The audience was a mixture of swaying bodies, clapping hands, and tapping feet. To Harry's surprise, a few people were even singing along with him, and his smile grew. This was what he loved the most about performing; seeing others enjoying and engaging in what he was doing on stage. Fingers snapping along with the music tempo, he set off across the stage letting his body move along to the beat in a way that felt extremely natural. The climax hit:

"Yes, your good byes, they left me with EEEEYEES tha-at CRYYY!

Now, I'm loooost- I'm lost without you.

And then YOU took that part, well that USED to be my heart!

So take ALLLL OF MEEEEEE!"

The room broke into an appreciative applause, someone towards the back (Harry suspected Ron) even whistled once the music had faded to a close. Harry stood there politely taking it in, cheeks slightly flushed, but filled with pride and satisfaction nonetheless. His eyes gazed over the smiling audience, and he nodded humbly, preparing himself for his next number.

And that's the first time Harry set eyes on him.

His glance swept across a dark figure seated in a corner by the fireplace, and he took the person's appearance with an odd curiosity. The man was older than Harry, but young enough to be considered middle aged, though the unpleasant demeanor about him made him seem very much older. His tall, lean body sat stiffly in the overstuffed chair, legs crossed and a small mug being held delicately in long fingers. Raven colored hair, cut with perfection to the shoulder, fell in two curtains on either side of his head, framing matching cold-set eyes and ghostly pale skin. The firelight illuminated high cheekbones as well as a large hooked nose placed in center of the long, slender face.

And he was glaring.

At Harry.

Harry looked away quickly, cheeks becoming a crimson red when he realized that he had been staring quite obnoxiously. Confused at his intrigue with the stranger, he mentally shook himself and cued the next song. He would apologize to the man for his rudeness, Harry decided, once he was done on stage.

~~~~~~~~SNARRY~~~~~~~~

"Harry, that was fantastic!" Hermione embraced him enthusiastically, making him glow with pride. Ron was not far behind, lending an approving smile and pat on the shoulder to his best friend.

"Told you there was no reason to be nervous, mate. They loved it!"

Harry chuckled sheepishly. "I know, and you tell me this every time. It really was packed with people tonight!"

That reminded him… He glanced around the room, searching for the man from earlier. Most of the customers had made their way out right after he finished his final song, but he peered back to the corner by the fireplace nonetheless. He was oddly disappointed to find the chair was empty. Wait... why was he disappointed? He didn't even know this man...

"Oi! Are you listening?" Ron interrupted his thoughts, waving both hands in front of his face. "Earth to Harry!"

Harry flushed in apology at both of his friends who shared matching looks of annoyance. "Sorry, guys. I must be really tired… My mind keeps wandering off tonight. What were you saying?"

"Rosemerta told us to send you her way before you leave. She wants to give you the tip jar from tonight as a thank you." Hermione repeated. She had a slight look of worry on her face when Harry seemed to only half hear her. "Harry? You sure you're alright? Maybe you should go home soon and get to bed?"

"Yeah, 'Mione," Harry smiled wearily. "That's probably a good idea."

"Better get your rest in this weekend, mate. We have class starting up on Monday."

Right. Class. Harry groaned inwardly at the thought as he nodded. "To think I almost forgot, too. I'll meet you back at the house in a bit, Ron."

The red head voiced his agreement before taking Hermione's hand and walking away, his girlfriend in tow. With that, Harry set off to find Rosemerta and that blessed tip jar.

Meanwhile at Hogwarts

Severus Snape sank unhappily into an old, worn chair, frowning at the man who sat in front of him.

"Hello, Severus. I am glad you could make it to see me." Albus Dumbledore smiled at him from behind a large oak desk, his hands clasped lightly in front of him. "I trust that you didn't have a difficult time finding your way through town?"

"You assume correctly Albus, though the trip here was… highly unpleasant." Severus answered in his trademark drone, crossing his legs. "Trust you to pick the night that a blasted hurricane comes through town to have a meeting with me."

"Ah. I am sorry, my boy. I had not realized the weather conditions prior to making the arrangements. I assume that is why you arrived late?"

"Yes. I had to take cover in some forsaken excuse of a coffee shop until the storm passed and endure the locals having what they may refer to as a 'concert'." The dark hair man snorted in displeasure.

Albus's blue eyes twinkled strangely as he stroked his long white beard in thought, unperturbed by the other's sarcasm. "I used to enjoy spending time with some tea and a good book in Madame Rosemerta's. I'm sure if you went during the day when it is quieter, you would find it a most relaxing place to read. Tea?"

Severus shook his head. "What is it you called me here for?" He asked, cutting straight to the point in a harsh manner. "I am predicting there is more to this than an amiable conversation over tea between two colleagues."

"You are correct as always. I happen to have a favor to ask of you." Dumbledore answered, his tone never changing as he poured himself a cup of tea. He plopped two sugar cubes into the mug and stirred. "One of our Professors is taking the summer off, and I am in need of finding a replacement."

Snape's eyes opened slightly and sat forward in his chair, showing his obvious discomfort at the request. "Teach? Albus, you know that when it comes to… dealing with cheeky college students, I am of no use to you."

"I have faith that you will do quite well, Severus. It will only be for a few classes a week, nothing that you cannot handle. Mind you, this is for the summer only, after which you would be free to go back to how your life was previously." The older man reasoned.

The room was filled with a long, quiet pause, the only sound being the crackle from the fireplace. Blue eyes met black ones.

"Alright," Severus sighed reluctantly after a few moments, uncrossing his legs and standing up. Peering down at the man who was a father figure to him, his features softened a bit in defeat. "But only for this summer. I will stop by tomorrow around lunch time and we can discuss the rest in further detail."

~~~~~~SNARRY~~~~~~

Monday arrived way too quickly, and Harry found himself rolling over in his bed to shut off the annoying beeping that belonged to his alarm clock. He huffed loudly, throwing the covers back over his head. Why had they been so stupid as to agree to taking summer classes, when they could be relaxing like normal college students? An image of an insistent Hermione popped into his head, spewing a lecture about wasting precious learning time. Right. That was why.

The only thing Harry really had to look forward to when it came to his summer semester were the courses he was studying. He had only signed himself up for two classes: Theater History and Acting 3, both of which he had made sure to have with Ron. Hermione enrolled in three (boring-sounding) classes, in determination of making herself the best lawyer to come out of Hogwarts University. She had decided that she wanted to get all of the learning she possibly could in during her spare time to prepare for her final year.

The second alarm Harry had set starting beeping loudly in the room, and he heard a thud from down the hallway that was Ron's body meeting the floor. He chuckled to himself at the thought and moved to shut off the alarm. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, he let out a hefty yawn before sitting up to stretch the sleepiness out of his limbs. The bedroom door opened to reveal a head of messy red hair, and a drowsy looking Weasley.

"'Morning, 'arry."

"Morning, Ron. Ready for class?" Harry asked, putting on his glasses and climbing out of a tangled mess of sheets.

"Somethin' like tha-" A large yawn cut off the boy's reply, making his best friend laugh.

"Alright then, give me a few and we can head out."

Twenty minutes later found the pair entering their classroom for their morning history course. A few other students that Harry recognized sat in seats along the back, and he sent them a friendly wave, which he received in return. Taking his usual chair out of habit, and Ron taking the one next to him, he hid another yawn, still trying to push the sleepiness from his body. Slowly, he took in the contents of the room, before turning around, looking confused.

"Isn't Professor Flitwick here yet?" He inquired to one of the students behind him, who shook their head in return.

"You mean you didn't hear?"

It was Harry's turn to shake his head.

"Flitwick took the summer off. We have a replacement Professor coming in for this and all of the other acting courses." The girl explained, making a face. "I've heard that the new Professor is really strict-"

She was interrupted by the squeak from the front of the room, indicating the classroom door opening. The students turned properly in their seats to get a good look, curiosity lit in their expressions. A tall, dark clad man strode in gracefully, closing the door behind him so that it made no sound, and he turned to send an impassive glance to all of the students in the room.

Shock hit Harry like a brick wall, and he gasped loudly despite his efforts to hold it in.

It was the man! The one that he had been looking for at Madame Rosemerta's that past Friday night. He didn't look much different from that evening, Harry noticed, the light of the room giving him full view of the man's appearance. Maybe he would get his chance to apologize for the other night, after all. Surprise hit him again when the Professor turned his way, a frown set in place on his pale features.

"Name!" He demanded, pointing a slender finger in Harry's direction.

Harry looked away, flushed with embarrassment. He really needed to stop being so obvious about staring. Keeping his eyes focused on his feet, he replied.

"Harry Potter."

"You WILL address me as 'Sir' while I am teaching in this classroom." The man snapped at Harry. Raising his haughty nose in the air and crossing his arms protectively over his chest, he seemed taller and all the more intimidating.

"Harry Potter, Sir." Harry corrected himself.

"To what, may I ask, do I owe to the displeasure of you gawking at me, Mister Potter?''

Harry answered back as calmly as he could, though beneath his desk hands were twisting angrily in his lap at the man's rudeness. He could hear Ron shift next to him and grunt in dislike and felt the sympathetic stares from his classmates. His face became an even brighter red. "Nothing, sir. I'm sorry."

The Professor snorted as an answer, turning towards the blackboard to write his name and the curriculum in large, neat letters so that the students could read it. Harry and Ron exchanged looks behind his back, the latter rolling his eyes, making Harry smile slightly. The man at the front of the room turned back to face them.

"I am Professor Snape, and I will be filling in for Professor Flitwick for your summer courses." Professor Snape's deep voice filled the small space. He moved away from the board to stand in front of the desk, glaring at every student he made eye contact with. "DO remember that this is a History course, not play time. Though I do not expect you, as theater majors, to completely comprehend the task of being mature, I will not tolerate any foolery whatsoever."

The room remained eerily silent, no one being brave enough to speak up in consequence of having their head snapped off. With each word that came out of Snape's mouth, Harry found himself increasingly more infuriated. Had the man nothing better to do than mock his students and say offensive things about their major? He pressed his lips together, keeping himself from shouting anything back at the man that could cause further trouble. Instead, he raised a hand in the air, and waited to be called on.

The Professor's gaze flicked over to Harry, his lip curling menacingly. "What is it, Potter?"

"May I ask what your major is in, sir?" He asked boldly, emerald eyes not wavering from the intense stare he was receiving. Ron chuckled under his breath next to him, making Harry feel all the more confident.

"That," Snape retorted with a sneer. "Is none of your business."

"My business or not sir, I do not think it gives you the right to treat us poorly due to our majors." Harry replied, anger rising noticeably in his voice. "You cannot just waltz in here and start acting like we're a bunch of dunderheads just because you do not approve of our choices!"

"And you have no authority in determining the way I teach this class!" Snape spat right back, his cheeks flushing at the blatant disrespect the boy was showing him.

"No, I don't! But how can I not speak up when you are being unfair! You don't even KNOW us yet!"

"I am your Professor, not your bloody father, Mister Potter! It is my job to TEACH you, and that is the only obligation I have! I refuse to babysit you whilst minding your easily hurt feelings!" Snape hissed back, his fists clenched at his sides, and an eyebrow ticking in anger.

"WELL IF YOU WEREN'T-"

"SILENCE!" The Professor roared, his face contorted with rage. A few of the students in the back of the class gasped in surprise. He quickly regained his composure, crossing his arms again before continuing in a highly demeaning voice. "I will not tolerate your disrespect, Potter. One more word and I won't hesitate to see that you are expelled from this University."

Harry's eyes narrowed, but he snapped his mouth shut to keep from worsening the damage he had already done on his first day. He glanced over at Ron who was sending him a look of sympathy and sighed inwardly, focusing on calming himself. Turning his attention back on Snape, who was assigning them chapters in their text books, Harry felt himself grit his teeth. He couldn't believe how quickly and drastically his opinion had changed since Friday night at Madame Rosemerta's.

There was absolutely nothing at all intriguing about Severus Snape, Harry decided. In fact, he was quite an ugly man.

~~~~~~~~~SNARRY~~~~~~~~

Thanks again for showing interest in my fic! I hope you have enjoyed the first installment. :D ~MissFuru

If you are interested in any of the music that will be in this fanfiction, I will always post a link at the bottom so that you may hear it. In this story, Harry has a love for old music- big band, crooners, doo-wop, jazz and such, which is kinda (no, it is!) my influence to the story. :)

The song "All of Me" in this chapter has been performed by many, my favorite two being by Mr. Tony Bennet and Mr. Michael Buble. You can listen to it here youtube .com /watch?v=UnrI1zaRPQ4 Just take out the spaces.