Two Left Feet

Edited by Danyealle

Posted on January 21, 2010

Chapter 6

“Blood and Potions”

The nigh was chiller than usual but the Great Hall was warm and illuminated by a tight cluster of floating candles. Below, the large phonograph was pouring music; bringing the hall and the students to life. By observation, McGonagall was the most excited person in present. By far. She clasped her hands together and beckoned them around. They stood with their partners, facing the professor as she snatched a weary student from the crowd. It was Percy. He rolled his eyes as he allowed himself to be guided to the center. “Firstly the stance…. Keep your upper body straight and tall, knees slightly bent, and weight on the heels. Do not allow your knees to straighten at the end of each pattern. If your stance is properly maintained, then you should feel like you are trying to sneak up on someone without being seen.” McGonagall showed the class the proper stance and Harry attempted it with Hermione at his side. Ron was right beside them with Luna and had the need to comment, “I feel my arse muscles tightening already.”

“This particular tango pattern is based on a count of eight. Some are slower, others quicker. A slow count takes two beats and a quick is one beat of music.”

Ron leaned over and whispered not so quietly to Hermione, “I’ll show you a quick beat.”

Ginny proceeded to elbow Ron.

“The basic count of Tango is slow one two, slow three four, quick five, quick six, slow seven eight. However, as the dance patterns advance and become more difficult, the timing of the patterns will vary. We’ll start with the Tango walk. For the men’s part, step forward with left and count one two. Then step forward with right and count three four. Step forward with left and count five. Then step side with the right and count six. Close left foot to right foot without distributing weight on the left foot. There should be pressure into the floor with the inside of the left foot and count seven eight. Ladies, you’ll mirror the men’s movements.”

McGonagall continued her demonstration and the class observed and followed. “The Tango is danced in a closed position. The man should place his right hand with some pressure against the middle of the woman’s lower back. Not any lower,” McGonagall eyed the males suspiciously and settled her eyes a moment longer on Ron. “The lady’s left hand will be flat with the fingers straight. She will place her left hand around the man’s right shoulder putting pressure with the thumbs of her left hand against the lower part of his shoulder.” She had to correct several hands before continuing on. “The palm of the man’s left hand and the palm of the woman’s right hand will connect with slight pressure towards each other and be held at approximately at eye level. Not dragging. The woman will stand slightly to the man’s right side and should remain there throughout the dance.”

Harry watched and practised with Hermione, thrilled that in a short while, he would be in intimate proximities with Snape. Then his eyes widened. Hermione’s brow arched. “Is something wrong?”

His mind was at it again! Running away with ludicrous thoughts and hoping for that which he really didn’t want… right? He thought back to the lake splash-fest and recalled all those naked young bodies next to him, around him, against him, crushing him, rubbing against him, and he felt nothing. Clearly he had no desire for the male body. So why did he have this senseless need for connecting with Snape? “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione and he had stopped moving. Her hand came to rest on his cheek. “Harry, what’s the matter?”

“My head hurts,” he said as he slapped his palm against his head.

Hermione huffed. “You’ve dealt with worse. What’s really wrong? You’ve been acting so strangely.”

“It’s nothing. Just stress. All school related, I promise.”

Class was soon over but a few students lingered to practise a bit more. Harry swung his bag over his shoulder and was about to head out when the doors open then in stepped Snape. He moved towards McGonagall without sparing anyone else a glance. McGonagall smiled then hurried over to him. They were whispering and Harry, just like the other students, was staring with dread. Then McGonagall turned towards her students and cleared her throat. “I have an announcement… Professor Snape has agreed to be my dance assistant temporarily.”

Very few students applauded, other’s had eyes glossed with interest. Harry felt like he swallowed Hagrid. He felt heavy and fuzzy inside. He was quite befuddled by how he felt about Snape’s involvement since Slughorn could no longer help, but, as he looked at the wizard, he sensed this was Snape’s way of backhanding him.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

The following night, Harry succumbed to the beast dwelling alongside his conscience. As he felt himself inwardly exploding with aggravation that he had no way of channeling by a healthy, appropriate mean, he fled the Gryffindor tower to meander among the many cold and lonely stone halls. Hopefully the hovering fog of frosty air would ameliorate his bitter temper and hot head. Never before could he remember being as frustrated as often as he has been. Besides being frustrated, when it came to Snape, Harry was nettled and emotionally bound. As a student, there was little he could do release his energies without threatening Snape’s position. He would be a fool to try anything when he was so close to graduation.

However, that didn’t mean he would not try.

For Harry was a hot head.

And his patience was as great as a lion in heat.

Not really caring whether or not he had collected himself, Harry marched towards Snape classroom, uncertain of what he would say, what he would do, but knowing that whatever happened, he needed to maintain some control. At the door he banged against it three times. Then stopped and thought about his behaviour. Already he was letting his emotions get the better of him. Have some control. Control. Control. He spoke, “Professor?”

A bitter voice answered, “Go away, Potter.” Harry was amazed with himself. He didn’t even consider the chance

Snape might have not been in the classroom.

Anger boiled against his chest. Again, he was getting carried away, but didn’t really care. He flattened his palm against the door and shoved it open. He was ready to being his diatribe when two strangers dressed in white turned to look at him, clearly stunned at his forceful and aggressive intrusion. Then as Harry looked at the woman, he realised she was a Healer, and not just any Healer. She was Selene Quinn, the renowned Healer who just won an award for her practises in poisons and cures. And on Snape’s left was the same man Harry saw in the alley just the other week. Harry stared at them in the same astonishment as them. Only Snape seemed indifferent. “You allow students to intrude upon you so rudely, Severus?” asked the Healer.

“Potter thinks he is beyond rules. I have done all I could to correct this,” Snape answered nonchalantly. He was leaning back against his chair with his neck wound and four hearty inches of his chest exposed.

“Mr. Potter, it is an honour to meet you, but there are procedures and policies and I cannot allow you to stay here. Please leave as I must attend to my patient privately.”

Harry’s finger was then pointing at the other taller man, who was standing with his back to Harry but his head slightly turned as if listening. He wanted to ask, ‘What about him? Why is it alright for him to stay?’ but all that came out was a, “You! You’re that bloke!”

Snape groaned. “Get out, Potter.” He was not about to display his impatience before his Healer.

Quite astonished, the Healer placed her hand against her chest. “That is none of your business. Please leave at once or we will remove you by force.” She turned to Snape, “They did not jest when they insisted that Harry Potter is a persistent young man.”

“Why is it okay for that man to be here?” Harry asked when he found his voice again. Clearly something was nettling his nerves.

The Healer was about to summon McGonagall when Snape said, “Just tell him or he will never let it be.”

“If I must. He is Alexander Lixandroiu, my assistant in poisons and blood transfusions. Now will you leave?”

The response was in the least expected; Harry’s accusing finger dropped slightly. So that meant the man wasn’t a partner showing his presence in support of his significant other. “So… he helps to flush the body of injected toxins?” Harry’s curiosity was never satisfied, it could only be reinforced.

The Healer folded her arms over her chest. “Mr. Potter, do you know of the healing properties in vampire blood?”
She said it so casually, but Harry had never heard of such a thing! A vampire?! If Harry thought that there were no more surprises after this…. For nothing could further shock him. He has only met one other vampire in his entire life, that’s how rare they were. And as Harry’s eyes fell onto the tall man’s creamy white skin and white hair, he wondered how he could have missed it. The vampire smiled and exposed four long and pointed fangs. “Evening, Mr. Potter.”

“Healer Lixandroiu must weekly draw blood from your professor for tests then give him just enough blood and potions to help prevent Professor Snape from further epileptic seizures and convulsions which are due to the professor’s previous massive intake of venom.”

“But that...,” that didn’t explain why Snape was with him that afternoon and why they were snogging! Unless Harry had jumped to conclusions, but then why did Snape and him have that talk the other day? Were they dating then? Or using each other? Harry had to know, but had no idea about getting an answer from either the proud vampire or the stubborn wizard.

“If that is all, Mr. Potter, will you kindly leave?”

Harry’s eyes found Snape’s, which were holding his steadily, studying. In a moment, Harry felt like he had unconsciously reached him and something transpired. “He won’t leave. You can tell him everything about the procedures but he has business with me and will not leave until he has said all he needs to. Let him stay.”

No further instruction was needed. Harry walked forward and seated himself where he would have a decent view of Snape’s neck and the whole procedure. For the next half hour, he remained quiet, much to everyone’s pleasure and watched as Healer Selene injected a multitude of liquids then massaged the neck with oils and other lotions. That explained the many puncture wounds he saw before. One bottle, when uncorked, had a strong scent of dirty and earth and Harry’s nose couldn’t seem to get enough air. His hands were suddenly hovering above his lap and his toes were curling. He leaned closer then inhaled. It was effective in the area of clearing his mind of all useless and useful thoughts. He wished he could have snagged the small vial. But then he knew he would do something stupid with it. Like keeping it under his pillow, so before he went to sleep, he could dab the liquid onto his wrist, hold it close to his nose, and fool himself into thinking that Snape was next to him. “Stupid,”
Harry whispered. He doubted that even infatuated teenage girls did that.

He opened his eyes then looked at Snape’s countenance. The folds of his face would gather tightly in a cringe and then relax. His eyes remained shut. His nails would gradually claw into and then scrape the leather of his chair as he made fists. His legs would jerk and his feet would press against the other. And then, a finger twitched.
By the end of the half hour, Healer Selene looked at her assistant then at Snape. “It’s time for the blood. Would you prefer that Mr. Potter leave?”

“Let him stay.” The professor answer much too quickly, but then again, he seemed exhausted. Harry guessed that he just wanted the procedure to be over.

“Are you sure?” the Healer seemed concerned and very uneasy.

“He’s been exposed to worse,” Snape ensured before reaching out and touching Alexander’s elbow.

The vampire, who was standing by jotting down notes, finally set down his clipboard. He withdrew a vial from his pocket that smelled much like rubbing alcohol and wiped it over Snape’s neck, Snape’s lips, and his lips. Harry’s lower lips slightly dropped as he braced himself against his seat. He wished to believe that Snape would have to ingest liquids taken from a vial or a cup, but from the vampire? “The fresher, the better,” he looked to the healer who was ignoring him and instead filling out a form. When Harry’s eyes returned to the terribly real scene before him, the vampire was already lean over and in less than two breathes his lips fastened against Snape’s wound and drew blood. He drank for only a second before licking the wound and sealing it.

Air rushed down Harry’s throat through his open mouth, filling his lungs and expanding his chest. Harry’s mouth felt like a desert. He licked his own lips. His mind had gone blank. His chest hurt.
“Here’s the test tube,” the Healer said as she passed a long, thin tube to the vampire. He held it between his lips and poured the blood it. Selene marked it before setting it in her bag.

Then the vampire touched Snape’s chin and Snape reached behind his head. Alexander then said softly, “You might want to close your eyes for this part, Mr. Potter.”

Earlier that night, Harry was already feeling frustrated with this poor change of heart. At that moment, he felt like fire was trying to split open his chest. Harry was about ready to spring from his seat and pounce the vampire.

Then the vampire’s sharp fang ripped his own lip just as he lowered himself to Snape. Before their lips meet, Alexander flickered a glance towards his young audience. Harry’s fist had long since turned a pale flesh and his knuckles white. Snape sucked on Alexander’s lower lip as a thin trail of blood escaped their kiss.
Just as quickly as it begun, it ended and Alexander pulled back both their lips moist with blood and heat. Harry swallowed again and then realised that he had been standing. He didn’t care when that had happened, only when Alexander was going to remove his undead arse out of the school. “We will send you the result shortly Severus.” Said Healer Selene. She hugged him then put everything away.

The vampire pressed a kiss to Snape’s forehead before he escorted his partner to the door. “Evening, Mr. Potter,” he said with a smug smirk before he was off.

When the doors closed behind him, Harry finally approached Snape. The professor was breathing softly and his eyes were still closed. Harry wanted to assume that the wizard had let down his defenses but it had to be a result of the drugs and the… kiss. No! That’s ridiculous! He’s practically forty! A kiss shouldn’t take such a toll on someone so old. He isn’t a teenager anymore.

“You didn’t vomit this time.”

Harry huffed. “You caught be off guard last time. And I ate something distasteful.”

“He is not my partner,” Snape whispered yanked. His eyes were now open and looking… just looking at Harry. What was he trying to insinuate? Some sort of sick reassurance? “Just a vampire doing his job. Though he can be affectionate, you must never fall for a vampire. They’ll entice you into spending an eternity with them before letting you grow old with them. They can love like we do, but they require a delay that you will ultimately regret. And it is not until you have grown bored of your long years that you realise that death is more welcoming.”

“He isn’t trying to make you into a vampire, is he?”

Snape chuckled, “No.”

Relief was like warm water against his tight skin. Harry leaned closer and placed a hand on Snape’s shoulder. He reached for the soft tissue the Healer had left and pressed it against Snape’s lips. The wizard closed his eyes and allowed Harry to wipe it of the blood and in their little moment, to touch his lips with the lightest touch from his fingers. “Does… does it hurt when he bites your neck?” Harry’s voice was coarse.
Snape smirked. “I’d rather be stung by a bee.” His lips could barely be felt moving against Harry’s curious fingers.

“What does it feel like?” Harry’s ring finger was tentatively getting acquainted with the outline, the slight curve, and the moistness of Snape’s bottom lip.

“A wickedly sharp fork.” His breath further moistened Harry’s fingers. Harry could feel his adrenal glands releasing all kinds of nonsense into his bloodstream.

“That can’t be too pleasant.”

“No….”

Harry proceeded to remove the blood from Snape’s neck. He placed on hand on the other side of Snape neck before wiping. The blood rubbed off easily as it was fresh. Then Snape rolled his head towards Harry. His eyes were a fathomless black, his lips a pale peach and Harry knew just what he wanted to do with them.

Then a fiercely strong grip restrained him and Snape sat up. “I have yet to discuss your detention with you. I have arranged for Ms. Weasley to work with Professor Slughorn tonight. You will serve it with Professor Hagrid tomorrow night.”

Harry shook his head then replayed Snape’s words in his thoughts. How did they get from an almost kiss to talking about his detention? He frowned. “Yes sir.” It was an absolute mood killer and Harry had no taste for it. But diving in for a kiss that instant might have earned him something worse than a detention.

“So… why have you decided to help Professor McGonagall?”

“To keep a closer eye on you and understand why you are not progressing as everyone else is. Perhaps I can help you better there. Also, my time is limited. Even more so than before and I cannot continue giving you lessons.”

“But if you don’t help with dance class then you’ll have time.” How wrong was it to convert something selfishly?

“No. I’ll just fill those empty slots with detentions and other duties I am obligated to perform. Giving you special lessons is no longer high on my priority list as it was before. However, I manage to escape tedious detentions when I offer my assistance to the Headmistress. You will be guaranteed my help three times a week now. Perhaps even four if I manage a bit of leisure time.”

The whole thing sounded like a scandal and it frustrated Harry. Why did the wizard always have to complicate matters? Random meetings and last minute scheduling was working fine for Harry. “I guess it’ll work out fine then.” He felt like kicking himself. Any classes were better than none. But what did Harry care anyways? Nothing was supposed to happen. Everything was purely academic and not for exploitations in that subject. Harry released a full lung of air slowly. Private dance classes would only hurt him more. This had to be better. Yes, definitely better. His eyes followed Snape’s long quill to his eyes. He wasn’t aware that he was being so inattentive until Snape raised an inquiring brow. “Yeah, it’ll be fine - brilliant.”

“Then I will see you at the next meeting.”

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

Harry withdrew the bloody tissue from his pocket for the fifth time that night. He held it up and examined the blood with the pad of his thumb, but searched for nothing in particular. It had merely become a token of memory since Harry remembered that he still had it in his hand after he left Snape’s classroom. He wasn’t sure why, but every time he recalled the intimacy, he felt his heart swoon. He should not desire anything from Snape. To want something so incredibly much from Snape was to jeopardize his education and further tarnish his professor’s reputation if it slipped. Snape could never have him. He could never have Snape. Neither could make the first move while Harry was still studying under his tutelage.

He kicked back his sheets and groaned louder than he should’ve making Ron groan back in his sleep, his face twisting into a frown. I am not even sure how he feels about me. That thought nettled Harry’s mind and filled him with discontentment. And though Snape had assured him that no tender feelings were blossoming between him and the vampire, Harry wanted to be prepared lest Vampire Alexander had an agenda of his own. He knew so little about vampires and their world. The only other vampire that he has ever known was the last Minister of Magic, and Harry didn’t gather a pleasant opinion of him. He buried his face further into the pillow and bit on the fluff. “Why....”

Hours passed, the clock ticked, and still sleep did not come to him. The night was cold, but the bed was warm. And there were subtle voices leaking from beneath the door. Harry sat up and made his way out. Perhaps some late night chatting would help him rest better.

He opened the door and went down the hall towards the staircase. As he approached the lit area, he registered it as Ginny’s voice. At least he could talk to her about nonsense that would gradually put him in a pleasant sleep.
As he looked over the wooden railing, he saw Ginny on the couch, arms wrapped around her legs as she read aloud from a large book to her only company, Crookshanks. The sleepy cat was rolled on his side with the tip of his tail curling upwards every so often. Harry went downstairs and Ginny looked up. Her eyes widened and she tightened her grip on her legs as Harry approached. “Hey Gin, what are you doing up so late?”

“Studying,” she mumbled against her knee.

“But the exam isn’t for another week.” He closed the book for her after marking it and then shoved the cat to the side, despite Crookshank’s protesting meows. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not tired. You?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Are you alright? I know we haven’t talked much in the last week, but I’ve been busy and such.”

“We don’t even kiss anymore.”

Wow. Harry thought. He actually could not recall the last time he had her tongue down his throat. It was brilliant! “That’s not important.”

Ginny turned to look at him incredulously. Her eyes were full and her lips looked like they might just start to curl downwards and then that meant that…

“What I mean is that right now our education is what is most important. But after school, everything will be okay. Then we can get more serious and you know…”
She nodded, though not entirely convinced. “I know. It’s just that before school, you were so affectionate and I just miss that, you know? All the holding and the touching… the kissing and the attention. I miss it. I really, really miss it.”

And there her lips went… they curled down and then they parted slightly as small droplets formed around her long lashes. Harry was never good with handling girls in their emotional moments. He never really liked it when they were emotional. He didn’t understand. It wasn’t like he said they needed to break up. He wasn’t sure yet. What if he got over this his infatuation with Snape and found that he indeed preferred Ginny’s breasts and curves to Snape’s broad shoulders, slim waist and… toned arms… Harry’s skin shivered. “It’ll be okay, Gin. Don’t cry. Shhh, don’t cry.”

He touched her cheeks and she leaned into him. He though it would be best to change the topic of discussion. However, the more he thought, the more his mind lingered on Snape… and then he popped the question. “What do you think about Snape helping out the class?”

She laughed a little, “I think it will be fun. He’s so knowledgeable about everything he does. He will make the class interesting. I wonder if he’ll dance with me.”

The clock’s ticking became softer and Harry’s mind went into a frenzy of unproductive thoughts. To add to his distress, his heart began burning. Must’ve been those fried potatoes I had for dinner. “You think so?” Every muscle in his being was clenching. What was he trying to hold onto? A thought? A dream? A hope? The impossible?

“I bet he dances better than everyone else.”

He does… It was almost voiced. “I am sure he does.”

“I’m sure he will dance with me at some point. There are only so many girls.”

“I don’t want to share,” his eyes were on Ginny, but his consciousness was slipping. He was growing tired. Too many emotions that Snape had no right inflicting upon him. This had to stop.


A/N: Hello there, just a note, don't be afraid to tell me what you think about this story. If it makes you feel like bubbles are popping like popcorn in the microwave, well, I'm sure you are not the only one. If it makes you feel like humanity has way too much time on their hands to write this mush... well, I'm not the only one that writes mush. But let me know. Great comments only keep me going. If you want quicker updates and I guess longer chapters, make it known. Make me happy and I will make you happier.
Just a reminder, if you want to be added to an alert email list, let me know and leave your email. Please.
And I am sorry but I don’t have teasers for the next chapter.