A Potion

Warning: This chapter is rated a high PG-13 or R-ish. It has some cussing (obviously it contains male/male) and other stuff in it, so beware! well… this is when it starts turning M anyways….

Oh. And by now hopefully you’ve figured out that this takes place in the sixth year. Everything in the 5th book happened, but this is a nice little world of mine where the 6th book never existed. Ah, lovely fantasies….

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Chapter 4

It had now been three months to the day since the Quidditch accident, and Malfoy had still not thanked Harry. Then again, Harry had expected nothing more. His relationship with Snape had continued to escalate and although Ron was oblivious to all his surroundings, Hermione had noticed Harry’s strange behavior.

Harry sat innocently at a table in the Gryffindor common room, writing an essay about the alignment of Jupiter and Venus meaning the end of the world for his Divination class when Hermione sat next to him purposefully. Harry looked up, startled. “Yeah?” he asked.

Hermione ignored him and seized the essay, scrutinizing it in her usual manner. She frowned and took out her wand. With a few taps to the paper she handed it back to him. “There,” she sighed, “You really are dreadful at spelling Harry.”

“Uh… thanks,” Harry muttered.

Hermione nodded absently and rolled her eyes, turning to stare out the window of the tower. “Honestly,” she began, and Harry braced himself, “I don’t know why you and Ron still take that ridiculous class. It’s all just a load of rubbish!” She crossed her arms heatedly.

Harry looked to Ron for aid, but he was entranced in a game of wizard’s chess with Seamus. He had not even heard their conversation. Harry was alone and defenseless. Hermione was obviously in a ranting mood.

“So, Harry, who is it?” Hermione asked suddenly.

Harry sat, speechless. A peculiar mood is more like it. What the bloody hell did she mean by that? She couldn’t possibly know about Snape. Harry felt his heart seize and he held his breath unknowingly. She couldn’t possibly!

Hermione sat next to him with an astute expression. Harry could have sworn he saw a slight smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “So,” she repeated in a lowered voice, leaning in to Harry as he leaned backwards, “Who is this lucky girl you’ve been sneaking of to see?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Harry stammered unconvincingly.

Hermione exhaled shortly and replied sagaciously, “Oh don’t try to pull that with me Harry. You should know by now that you can’t outsmart me.”

Harry paled and attempted to swallow. This was quite difficult because he couldn’t remember how.

“Plus,” Hermione continued, “I’ve seen you sneaking out.”

“But I used my invisibility cl-” Harry cut himself off, but it was too late. He had just admitted to sneaking out. Oh, he was a fool.

Hermione grinned victoriously and poked Harry in the shoulder. “So, who is it? Why haven’t you told me and Ron?”

Harry groaned inwardly. Fuck, he was caught. It wasn’t the total end. Hermione knew he was seeing someone, but she didn’t know who. The only problem now was that Hermione would tell Ron, and they would follow him everywhere. They might have been slow to notice Harry had a secret, but they weren’t stupid. They would figure it out eventually. What in the name of Merlin would he do when that time came? What would he tell them?

‘Yeah, the Gryffindor hating, greasy git Professor Snape is my boyfriend.’ Harry laughed before he could stop himself. Yeah, that would go off really well. Ron would blast his head in. Hermione could have a heart attack. He could see it now. Hermione never speaking again, Ron losing his sanity and sitting in a couch chair all day asking how much potatoes cost in Denmark.

Yes. That would be brilliant. Harry would rather suffer a kiss from dementors than tell Ron and Hermione about Snape. If he told them, there wouldn’t be a Ron and Hermione.

Harry began to sweat nervously. “Um, well, I’m not seeing some girl, Hermione,” Harry began, that much was true, the next part was the lie, “I’m- I’m going to Occlumency lessons with Snape again.” Harry blurted this out desperately. It was the first thing that had come to his mind. Why not? It would explain his going to Snape’s at night and Hermione and Ron wouldn’t tell anyone. It was perfect.

“Why would the Professor have you breaking the rules and curfew to go to lessons?” Hermione asked, “Couldn’t he just have you come after supper?”

Harry shook his head but remained silent. Hermione looked at him curiously, waiting for an answer. “Well Dumbledore didn’t want anyone to notice that I was going anywhere. He… thought it was better if no one knew anything.”

Hermione nodded in agreement and Harry relaxed.

“Why didn’t you tell us Harry?”

Harry jumped and let out a small yelp. Ron was standing behind him. His flaming red hair and freckled cheeks shone brilliantly in the firelight of the common room. He was grinning wildly and Seamus was quietly fuming across the room. So Ron had won the game. “Well,” he repeated, “Why didn’t you tell us? I could understand not telling anyone else, but why not us?”

“Like I said, Dumbledore just thought it was better if it was kept a secret,” Harry replied, “So don’t tell anyone okay?”

“Of course we won’t tell anyone Harry!” Hermione answered loyally. Ron nodded and gestured over towards the chessboard. “Care for a game of Wizard’s Chess Harry?”

Harry got up and joined Ron at the table. Ron looked over to Harry sympathetically and gave him a pitying smile.

“What?” Harry asked, annoyed.

“I was just thinking,” Ron said, “It must be Hell to have to spend every night with that greasy old git!” He laughed.

Harry flushed and laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, it sure is,” he replied.

Ron turned back to the game and gave a command to one of his knights. Harry felt his heart sink as he watched the piece slide across the board. He hated lying to Ron and Hermione. They were his best friends. If they couldn’t be honest with each other, then were they true friends? Harry didn’t deserve them. This wasn’t what he wanted to be. He was a famous prodigy who lied to his friends and fucked his professors. He didn’t deserve to live.

Harry found himself gazing into the dancing flames in the hearth, wishing that Voldemort would floo to the Gryffindor common room and just finish him off. He was sick of being the Boy Who Lived. He was sick of the prophecy, Voldemort, Dumbledore, and every one who hated and worshipped him. He just wanted to be normal. Not famous. Not rich. Not in love with his professor. And not destined to save the world. Why did it have to be him? The memory of his mother’s scream came rushing back to him. Watching as her body fell into a crumpled heap on the floor. The flash of blinding green light. He knew why. His mother had died for him, and he could not let her down. He may have not asked to live, but he had, and he had to survive. He had to avenge his parents’ death.

Even if he didn’t want to kill anyone, he knew that when it came down to it in the end, he would. He would not leave everyone he loved to die. No. That just wouldn’t do.

Harry shrugged. Well, saving the world was all good and fine, but right now there was something more important to concentrate on: winning the chess game. Harry let out a cry as Ron whooped, “Checkmate!” Well, maybe not winning the game.

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“So they suspect something, eh?” Severus Snape asked casually as he placed bottles with unidentifiable contents evenly on the shelves of his cupboard, “It took them long enough. I knew Weasley wasn’t bright, but even Granger couldn’t figure it out? Come now, I overestimated them, and I don’t overestimate people.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, I think you do the opposite. And they haven’t figured it out. They just think I’m acting strange. I told them that I was taking Occlumency lessons again.” Harry rubbed his arm nervously. He still felt dreadful about lying.

Snape turned, his eyebrows raised slightly. “Really?” he asked, a small hint of respect in his voice, “I didn’t think you had it in you to lie to your friends, Potter.” He drug out Harry’s name torturously; he knew it annoyed him when they were alone and he said his last name. A fake sneer curled across his lips. “I admire your deceit.”

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Oh shut up,” he retorted.

Snape glided slowly across the floor towards Harry, standing to his full height and towering above Harry. “Watch your tongue boy. You forget I’m your teacher.” He crossed his arms with authoritarian grace and frowned down at Harry.

Harry paused, then grinned. He began to play along. Cowering below the tall, dark professor, his lower lip quivered and he stuttered a reply. “I-I’m sorry p-professor,” he stammered, “I didn’t mean to. You’re not gonna give me a detention are you?” He placed his hands on his cheeks as if the thought had horrified him.

Snape sneered and leaned down, arms still crossed, and stopped when his face was within inches of Harry’s. “You bet I’m giving you detention,” he hissed seductively. Harry shivered. “And it will be a detention you’ll not soon forget.” He brushed his lips teasingly over Harry’s. Harry groaned. “Don’t be so mean, Severus,” he complained.

Snape grinned and waved his wand towards the dungeon door, casting a locking and silencing charm. “That’s Professor to you boy. And I’ll be as mean as I want. This is, after all, detention. It’s time to reprimand you for your insolence.”

Snape grabbed Harry by his waist and hoisted him up onto the teacher’s desk. He laid Harry down upon the desk, brushing papers aside. He removed his robes to reveal a stunning white-collared shirt and black pants. Harry had found quite early on in their relationship that Snape was thin, but very fit, and looked brilliant in muggle clothing.

Snape lifted himself onto the desk and straddled Harry. He tore off Harry’s robes and tossed them aside. Unbuttoning Harry’s shirt, he ran his hands tenderly up the boy’s abdomen. Harry shuddered and moaned; his pants were already tight.

“Patience boy,” Snape whispered. He leaned forwards and kissed Harry’s navel gently. He stuck his tongue in the tiny hole and ran it along Harry’s well-defined stomach, stopping at the crevice in Harry’s neck to taste it delicately.

Harry unbuttoned a few buttons on Snape’s shirt, leaving it tucked in and the collar still buttoned. He twisted his arms around Snape’s back, savoring the feeling of his warm skin against his palms. He ran his fingers along the intricate scars that were embedded deeply in his lover’s skin. He did not ask what they were from, for he knew. No doubt his childhood and years as Voldemort’s slave had not left him without any mark to show for it.

Harry gasped as Snape’s tongue slid slowly into his mouth, taking its time as it licked Harry’s inner lip and tongue. Harry returned the favor and placed one hand on the back of Snape’s head, forcing their heads closer together. He roamed Snape’s mouth desperately, looking for new tastes and flavors. He didn’t even notice when Snape removed his shirt and pants. Snape, still fully clothed, rubbed sensuously up against Harry, causing the boy to moan and whisper huskily, “Oh God, keep doing that.”

Snape obliged and moved against Harry slowly, painfully, until he was sure that he could no longer stand having his pants on. He undressed with impressive speed and let out a sigh of pleasure as he and Harry touched, skin-to-skin.

He loved detentions.

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Harry walked contentedly out of Snape’s office, trying to hide the grin that was forcibly consuming his face. He donned his invisibility cloak and walked slowly down the corridor towards the stairs. He halted suddenly as he heard voices heading towards him. Dodging behind a suit of armor so as not to be bumped into, Harry watched as Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge rounded the corner, talking in hushed voices.

“This truly is a beautiful school, Albus,” Fudge marveled, gazing around the large corridor. Although this was a happy statement, Fudge looked rather ill and depressed.

Dumbledore smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yes, indeed it is, Cornelius, but I do not believe that is why you are here. Am I right? Or are you truly just here to marvel at the tapestries?”

Fudge slumped and nodded, looking defeated. “Yes. You are correct I’m afraid. I have come bearing dismal news. It concerns one of your students, Hermione, um, Hermione Granger. Yes, that’s it.”

Harry started. What about Hermione? He didn’t like where this was going.

Dumbledore looked equally disturbed. “What is this trouble, Cornelius? You must tell me at once what is wrong.”

Yeah, Harry agreed silently, What about Hermione?

Fudge sighed and scratched his balding head uncomfortably. “I’m afraid her parents have been killed. Murdered. It was a Death Eater’s doing.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Oh no! This was terrible. Hermione’s parents, killed? Why had the Death Eater’s attacked them, of all people? His heart sank as he thought of Hermione. She loved her parents so much.

Dumbledore looked severely troubled. “Oh dear. This is terrible business,” he sighed, “Any idea why they chose them Cornelius?”

Fudge glanced around and leaned in closer to Dumbledore. Harry strained to hear the reply, leaning forward and almost losing his balance.

“I believe it’s because of Harry Potter,” Fudge whispered, “I’ve been told he’s very close to Granger. I have a feeling that You-Know-Who is trying to indirectly hurt the boy by getting to his friends. An evil thing to do.”

Harry’s face contorted with rage. Voldemort had killed his parent, Sirius, and now Hermione’s parents. Hadn’t that bastard done enough already!

“Then, if that is the case, we must warn the Weasleys,” Dumbledore said.

Harry tensed, he had forgotten about them. He clenched his fists. If Voldemort dared to touch any of them… They were like his family. They had taken him in when he was in need and had watched over him. They were there for him when no one else was.

“Yes, of course,” Fudge replied hastily, “I shall immediately inform the Aurors that they need protection,” He turned to leave, “There is no time to waste. Safety is of utmost importance in these dire times. We can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

“Very true.” Dumbledore nodded gravely. “Thank you for your visit, Cornelius. Please see to it that the Weasleys are well protected.”

“Indeed, indeed,” Fudge muttered, “Goodbye Albus.” He waved distractedly and flew out the front door swiftly, muttering along the way.

Dumbledore turned to leave, but he stopped and spoke loudly. “I will free you and Mr. Weasley of your classes tomorrow. Please take care of Hermione. Can I trust you to tell her?” He turned and eyed Harry, his expression unreadable.

Harry colored. He had forgotten that Dumbledore could see him even with his invisibility cloak. Harry nodded. His emotions were going haywire. He had no idea how he would tell Hermione. He knew that it would, by far, be one of the most difficult things he would ever have to do.

Dumbledore smiled gravely and turned quickly. He walked down the hall and continued out of sight, leaving Harry to think of all that he had just learned. Hermione’s parents were dead. Ron’s were in danger. And it was all his fault. It was his fault because Voldemort wanted to get to him. He wanted to hurt him. And he would hurt everyone Harry loved to do so.

Harry cupped his face with his hands and sank to the floor as tears ran steadily down his face. It was all his fault. He was the reason everyone was dying. He was the reason that everyone was in danger. Harry held back a sob and began to shiver convulsively. Everyone would be better off without him. He was only a danger to all who were around him. All because Voldemort couldn’t get over the fact that he couldn’t kill a baby. Because of some damn prophecy Voldemort had destroyed Harry’s life. Harry scowled as he wiped his face and stood up, still shaking. Voldemort would pay. That stupid, evil bastard would pay if it was the last thing Harry ever did. Harry would make sure he suffered, like he, himself, had suffered. It was time to stop fooling around. Harry couldn’t just let Voldemort have his way. Next time Voldemort or his goons were dumb enough to show their faces, Harry would find them. And he would destroy them.

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Oh, and thanks everybody who is reviewing this! I love you all! Except for those of you who I don’t love. Sorry for that.