Two Left Feet

Two Left Feet

Edited by the fastest beta in the world!

Danyealle

Chapter 7

“Roxanne”

Casually, Percy reached across and patted Harry on the shoulder before swinging around and reeling Ron in. “Snow feels good, eh?!” He chuckled as he dragged his feet through the first bit of snow. “I love the snow!”

Ron’s eye brows arched, “You’re mental. It’s bloody cold!”

“But it’s so much fun!” He grabbed a handful of snow then hurled it at another friend of theirs. The boy, who didn’t even see it coming, found himself soon falling over into a small lump of new, white snow. “Owned!” exclaimed Percy as he ran to seek shelter behind a tree.

The victim grabbed snow at random and hurled it as hard as he could. Much to his disappointment, it crumbled after a few feet and fell to the ground. “I’ll get you for that, Percy!”

“When I recall all the games we used to play, I miss the snow too. We didn’t really get to enjoy the winter last year.”

“No….” He did not want to reminisce. There was nothing pleasant about that journey. Except the strengthening of his friendship. “Heads up!”

Ron turned just as snow smacked his forehead. It crumbled slowly and Ron grabbed his face. “That’s fucking cold!” He reached for some snow but not fast enough to stake his revenge before three more came his way.
Harry dove to get out of the line of fire just as two more came his way. He laughed as Ron got pelted in the face with snow, bits of dirt, and small sticks. “Ahh!” Cried Ron as he withdrew his wand to hurl ice in every direction.

Harry felt snowballs collide with his back. Percy, however, was smacked several times on his chest. Harry then got up to run to duck behind the fallen log where others had sought refuse from Ron’s raging balls. He tripped just as he reached the log, falling face first into the snow. He laughed, however. He didn’t remember the last time he had so much fun in the snow. And it was just the blokes. “Alright, on the count of three, we all hurl snowballs at him, got it? One… two….”

Harry got his snowballs ready just as Ron began to cool down. “Three!”

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

“The first snow of the season,” Slughorn commented. “Isn’t it beautiful? Oh how I wish I were younger. I had a very good arm back in the days and could hit anyone from several feet away. I daresay everyone wanted me on their snowball war team.”

Snape rolled his eyes. His voices of reason forebode him from remaining in sight as soon as Slughorn walked into the Hog’s Head. He should have hidden, or claimed to have been needed elsewhere. Now he was doomed to Slughorn’s company as they treaded across the long, snow cover roads back to Hogwarts. The roads today seemed all the longer. He thought Slughorn’s “back in the day” stories would never cease. That was, until a snowball came flying from the forest. Along with it came several Gryffindor boys, all screaming hysterically, tripping over each other, and running as fast as they could despite the snow. Slughorn stared with the most amused expression in his eyes Snape had seen all afternoon. “Ah, youth,” he sighed longingly.

“Run, run, run!” The youngest Weasley male sprung from the woods and leaped a few feet in order to run away from whatever madness was chasing them, and keep both him and Professor Slughorn from continuing on their way.
Then suddenly, a few more snowballs came flying from the bushes. They smacked into the road just inches from his ice covered boots. He looked down then looked back up at the forest just as Harry bolted out, wand raised high, and snowballs circling him like ammunition. At least they were applying the elemental manipulation techniques he had taught them.

When Harry saw both him and Slughorn, he stopped just before leaping over another log and grinned. “Afternoon, professors.”

“Good afternoon, Harry! I see you’ve become quite the menace. We won’t keep you from you fun.” Slughorn laughed then reached out for one of the snowballs. “But you’ll have to drop in one afternoon for tea. I must tell you about my old snowball days.” He grabbed one of the hovering balls circulating Harry then turned to admire the wide, open fields just perfect for snowball warfare. “They were astounding, really.”

As soon as Slughorn began his story, Snape reached for Harry’s arm. Harry was about to ask what he was doing when he felt pressure all around him and then he cried as he felt like he was being squeezed through an air tight tube. Then everything came back into focus. They were just outside of Hogwarts’ gates. Harry turned to Snape, not sure if he should thank the man or kiss him for his attempted rescue act. “That bloody fool never shuts up.” Said Snape as he withdrew his wand and touched the gates.

They swung open and Snape stepped through. Harry looked back over his shoulders, wondering if he should return to his snowball war. They probably thought he went missing or something.

Snape noticed his indecisiveness. “Go back if you must, but I assure you, Slughorn has found them. So unless you are eager for an extremely uninspiring story, I suggest you come back with me.”

“And do what?”

“Study. Do you not have an exam in my class this week? Are you prepared?”

“There’s still light out, professor. I doubt I could concentrate much.”

“Then come study in my classroom. I’ll ensure your concentration and comprehension.”

Harry stared hard. This was an alluring offer. He was ready to link arms with Snape and skip off to his classroom to do some seriously hard studying, but that’s just what Snape meant. Studying. And with him so close he didn’t think he would get much studying done. Or any at all. He knew he would be tempted, and in such a closed, private space, his mind would be unable to wander from Snape’s presence. Out there, he could think a little more and Snape wasn’t pressing and sticking in his thoughts. Snape took a step back and then began heading towards the castle. Harry looked up in alarm. He had to choose friends or Snape. Fun or… studying. A bunch of wild boys or a potentially wild man? He found his legs carrying in the direction he was bound to choose. He wanted to cry wait up, but he found that if he ran just a little faster, he could keep up with Snape’s persistently long strides. While on their course to Snape’s classroom, no words were exchanged, and somehow, Harry was fine with the mutual silence. His throat was getting a little itchy from inhaling more than enough cold air.

Upon reaching the classroom, Snape opened the doors and then stepped through. It was cold and the air blew onto Harry’s face. He shook and wanted so much to just cling to Snape’s form. Ha, but what would he say? ‘We need to huddle to conserve heat’? He was going to kick himself. Snape would surely hurl him from the nearest window.

“Find a desk, and get comfortable.” Said Snape as he pulled out a pile of papers and his quill.

Why did it always seem like Snape had more and more papers to mark? “Would you like some help, sir?”

“No, Potter. Your last paper will be enough work for me. I do not need you to create more.”

“Well, sir, I left my textbooks back in the tower. I don’t really have anything on me.”

Without glancing at Harry, Snape replied dully, “There are spares on the back shelf.
Harry turned around and sighed. He didn’t feel like studying Defense Against the Dark Arts or defense against anything. But he did want to study something a little darker. He spun on his heel and, instead, walked towards the front left where Snape was seated. “Professor.”

The man looked up at him, uneasiness in his eyes. Harry’s eyes fell towards the parchment which was completely devoid of marks. He hadn’t touched it or any other paper since he seated himself. Did that mean his mind was also elsewhere? Could he feel it to? That weird, unexplainable something?

Awkward silence then followed, and Harry found that the tension surrounding them was making his ears ring and his head feel compressed… unless it was the after effects of being apparated. “Sir?”

“Yes?” Snape’s attention seemed elsewhere.

“I wanted to know if you would like to dance with me.” Harry was so unsure of himself that he almost stumbled over a few words.

“No.” the older wizard’s head slumped and his dark hair fell loosely like closing curtains.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t feel like dancing.”

“But I want to.”

The dark eyes flickered upwards. “Then dance. I’m not stopping you.”

“Like this? By myself?” Harry frowned as he looked around the cold and gloomy classroom.

“You said you wanted to dance.”

“Yeah, but not by myself. I require you assistance.” He extended his hand.

The man sighed and then stood up. “I cannot. You need to leave.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and his head felt a little lopsided. What? What had he done now? “I’m sorry?”

“Leave now.”

“Why won’t you dance with me?”

“Potter, do not press. I have work and lessons to plan. I do not need you here pestering.”

Snape moved towards Harry, inching gradually to the side as he stepped around him. However, before he could completely pass him, Harry gripped Snape’s arm and held him back. “Why won’t you dance with me? Is it something I did? Does it have to do with what happened with Ginny? Is me? You?” Us?

Snape twisted his arm out of Harry’s grip with aggression. “Do not touch me.”

“Professor?”

“You know as well as I do, Mr. Potter.” He turned as to not have to face Harry.

“Know what, sir?”

“Do not pretend to be daft.”

Oh Merlin. Was he really going to address the same issue Harry has been trying to push into the dark regions on his thoughts? “I do not know to what you are referring!”

Snape turned on him and, in an instant, he took Harry’s hand in his fist and pulled the younger wizard closer. He was not met with resistance, as Harry knew that even the slightest opposition could lose him everything. It was too delicate. Their positions stood on wobbly foundations. “It has been becoming… inappropriate.” The last word was uttered so softly it almost didn’t reach Harry’s ears.

“Inappropriate? How? You are my professor and you are tutoring me in dance!”

“Is that all? Has my guidance brought about anything else?”

“It’s showing me how to become a better dancer! What are you insinuating? What is inappropriate?”

“I am not allowed to touch students.”

Harry blinked several times, trying not to adjust his vision, but organize his thoughts and their situation. Snape was definitely trying to tell him something. He wasn’t daft, like Snape said. He knew what was happening, and perhaps Snape sought an answer; an answer that only Harry could give him. “But this is dance….”

“I am not allowed to touch you.”

Now Harry was quite flummoxed. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck, Harry…,” Snape looked frustrated and angry, and if Harry didn’t already know Snape’s personality, then he would’ve felt vulnerable and his physical state in jeopardy. Snape gripped his arm tight and forcefully tugged him closer. Harry stumbled slightly, but obliged Snape. The man leaned in even closer then and said clearly to Harry, “You don’t want this,” before he pressed his lips against the end of Harry’s eyelid.

Harry choked on his breath then held it until Snape had finished, thrust him against his desk, and then fled the classroom. The spot just to the right of his eye felt pleasantly warm, and his cheeks even warmer, though his back ached slightly. He reached up slowly and placed two fingers over the spot before closing his eyes. Fuuuck…. It was really happening. Does he… feel that way towards me too?

Suddenly, his ground with Snape wasn’t the only thing that felt a little wobbly. The floor didn’t feel very secure either. He slouched down against Snape’s desk and allowed his head to roll slightly. “That was nice.” He commented to himself aloud. He just needed to hear himself say it. “Nice. Fantastic.” He frowned. Maybe I should have chased after him. Then it dawned on Harry, how was he supposed to act when they meet next?

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

“Followers, step back left, right, step left side and together. Repeat.” McGonagall demonstrated with the help of Percy yet again. The tall boy blew at his bangs and pouted as the professor continued to travel around the room with him towing along. “You will manage this before we advance. Please try with your partners.”

Ginny touched Harry’s shoulder. “You know what? I think this class is going to get terribly romantic very soon.”
Harry’s eyelids were beginning to weigh down and his eyes felt like rolling back. He raised his hand lethargically and leaned it against Ginny’s. “No slouching. Stand up straight,” Ginny commanded as she stepped forwards and right onto Harry’s foot. He winced and she jumped back. “I’m sorry!”

The pain was minor and gone in less than a moment. He managed a smile which, though lazy, was still reassuring. “I’m fine. And you’re stepping the wrong way.” He pressed Ginny backwards and they moved in their own small square as was demonstrated. Traveling would come later for him, for Harry did not wish to do much thinking and acting when his thoughts were rampant and his energies wasted. All night, morning, and afternoon his thoughts had been placing him in different situations with Snape and what he might have implied with that ridiculously short peck. Since Harry could not relay his latest achievement with Snape to his friends, he sat in the dark corners of the school pondering, and thus becoming irritated.

And this dance class would ultimately only make him even more irritated.

Snape had stepped away from McGonagall’s side and a shy Slytherin girl approached him. Harry’s own dancing came to a quick stop as his eyes darted from the girl to Snape and back to Ginny. “Is someone asking Professor Snape to dance?” she asked while trying to see the situation on the reflection of Harry’s glasses.

“Maybe…”

The bashfully offered her hand and smiled as Snape nodded then swoop her into a mighty fine dance position. Harry’s own arms felt heavy and he did not want to dance. He looked at Ginny and felt sad at his current state. He wished he could have pulled his heart out of his chest, screamed and demanded what it wanted. He then stared at Ginny’s lips. He has kissed them more times than he cared to count. If he just had a nibble of Snape’s then he would have something to compare it to. He would probably be able to come to a decision. He didn’t care if that meant something else would arise. He had a pestering urge to discover this new interest and satisfy whatever it was that was poking him relentlessly.

For the rest of the class, Harry spent it trying to grasp the technique behind traveling while dancing and comprehending the pattern behind each of the dance moves. It was extra hard though, because he wanted to keep a close eye on Snape, who seemed to staring off into the clouds with each and every dance partner he received.
However, by the end, when he thought that he had a chance to indulge in Snape’s presence, the man denied him even before he could ask with one cold word, “No.” Then swept away from Harry before he could ask anything further of him.

By that week’s following dance class, Harry had a hard time scouring the room for Snape while he danced. The hall so busy with students flying across the room in an hurried fashion that if Harry’s eyes even for just a moment strayed, would likely collide into another couple. However, those few things that he did spot Snape, each time he was with a different girl – Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin alike. Ginny spun and then her foot’s tip slowly caressed the floor in a slow, long stroke. He spun her again. “Harry, try to give it a little more. This dance is meant to be sensual.”

“I have a treat for you all,” said McGonagall as the music suddenly changed and instantly, Harry recognized it- the quick strokes of the violin, the uplifting, inspiring male voices… “El Tango de Roxanne. Please enjoy.”

Snape then took McGonagall’s hand and Harry witnessed the sensuality and intimacy of the tango. Snape’s hands held McGonagall firmly in place, occasionally guiding her hips inward and outward, his body, curving to hers. She would spin and then come to a clean and immediate stop. She would pick up her feet and touch the floor lightly before her performed an octo. Snape would stomp with the ending beat. McGonagall’s head would sway with ease and lift her arms as Snape dipped her then picked her up. It was a performance like nothing Harry has ever seen and he found himself stricken with awe, for want of a better word. His mind as also paused in the event, and every little word Ginny breathed at him, he never heard.

How could two people so effortlessly maintain a constant sync with each other as such?

“Harry!” Ginny touched his side.

His eyes slowly looked towards Ginny.

“Let’s dance. You’re the only one staring.”

It was hard to not do so when the entire hall had suddenly dimmed and the song spoke to his heart.

His hand upon your hand… his lips caress your skin…it’s more than I can stand. Why does my heart cry? Feelings I can't fight. You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me and please, believe me when I say I love you.

The song ended, but Harry’s heart could not stop aching. He stepped away from Ginny as Snape stepped away from McGonagall. “I need to sit down.” His breath was slow and heavy, sweat ran dripped down his face, his clothes clung to his skin uncomfortably, and his hands felt unbearably cold.

He left Ginny’s side before she could whisper another word. He plopped down on the long, empty bench and dropped his head onto his open palms. The cold flesh of his hand was greeted with the heated flush and sweat of his face. “Brilliant, just brilliant.” Some days were worse than others, but tonight it was especially bothersome. His breathing was quickening and his heart would not stop hurting. He clutched his shirt and leaned forwards more until his forehead nearly touched his knees. “Stupid infatuations. Stupid.”

A voice reached his ears. “Mr. Potter, are you alright?” McGonagall’s hand touched his shoulder with caution.

Fight it. Just bloody fight it!

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“Would you like to return to your dorm?”

“Class is almost over.” He protested.

“Very well,” McGonagall’s hand lifted and she walked away.

“I cannot take this forever.” His eyes returned to Snape, who was to his interest, not dancing. He was against the opposite wall, the weight of his dark gaze falling heavily on Harry. “And I know you cannot either, right? Do you fancy me, professor?” his head dropped again, “I think… you’re my Roxanne.” Harry touched his face, over the exactly area where his nerves could still feel the ghostly touch of Snape’s kiss. “You are no coward. You won’t run away if I approached you, right?”

The class ended and the students left, giggling excitedly. The tango had granted so many girls and blokes alike the chance to be intimate with each other. Harry waited patiently until everyone, including McGonagall, had left before he stood and approached Snape. The man was not surprised when Harry touched his shoulder and forced him to look at him. “Hold me like you held them.” Harry barely whispered.

Snape’s eyes threatening him.

“Please.” Then Snape’s hand was touching his side with guidance. It brought Harry in quickly and without another word said, Harry found himself pressed closely to Snape. “Let me guide you. Do not fight me,” his words, deep and in control, resonated deep inside Harry’s ears. He shivered, wanting to, desiring to give Snape absolute control.
“Move your body against mine. Lift your arms and allow them to flow with your movements. Do not hesitate to glide you feet upon the ground. Move slowly with control.” Already, Harry felt the hand held within Snape’s grasp beginning to sweat and shake. He held tighter, hoping that Snape would not notice, or if he did, would not comment.

Harry found himself moving step by step backwards, allowing Snape to guide him until he stopped and Harry’s feet crossed. “Uncross your feet and walk forwards with me.” Then it was Snape who was walking backwards. “Sit on my knee and cross your legs. Then stand and glide across the floor. Follow me. Touch me.” Harry gripped Snape’s shoulder and swallowed deeply as Snape leaned forwards to dip him. Harry fell back with Snape’s guidance and their faces gradually inching close. Harry’s heart pulse sped up to painful rate as he felt a light breeze of air touching his lips; they were that close. Then as Snape began to lift him, Harry’s hand found the back of Snape’s neck and he raised himself quicker than Snape intended, and just as he began to close his eyes to kiss Snape, their noses collided and excruciating pain erupted front the front of his face. Snape dropped him and stepped back, touching the front of his own nose. Harry stared up at the ceiling, the back of his head and his nose pulsating, but his heart hurting the most. “Fuck,” he whispered, unable to say much if anything else.

“I won’t even pretend to ignore what you attempted, Mr. Potter.” Snape’s tone was unmistakably irritated. “You are foolish! Do you have any idea what you could have started?”

“I don’t care… anything is better than nothing…,” Harry stood and then accosted Snape, reaching out, ready to touch his face when Snape gripped the front of his shirt and once again, pushed him away.

“I said no,” he was like a venomous snake, ready to strike.

But Harry felt much like a lion, determined and unwilling to let his pride fall. He brushed aside the blood flowing down his nose and then advanced upon Snape once again. “Why did you kiss me then?”

Snape’s nostril’s flared, “Leave before I do something regrettable.”

Harry stood still then lifted his hands as if prepared to dance again. He spun towards Snape whose hand constricted his wrist with unfathomed strength. Harry hissed out, but then Snape dragged him forwards until they were close, but not close enough. He then spun Harry until his back was against his Snape’s front, and then he pressed his palms up along Harry’s arms. “You have no right to trust me, Potter.” Harry was spun again until he was facing Snape. “Look at me. I am a man, not a child. And you are not to trust me.”

Harry stared incredulously at the man in whose arms held him, and then found his voice lost and his thoughts stuck in the depths of his mind. Snape released him, bowed, then left the Hall. The music ended, but Harry’s thoughts were suddenly roaming.

It wasn’t until much later in the night did he return to the common room. To his dissatisfaction, he found Hermione waiting for him on the couch with the quibbler in her hand. “It’s nearly two hours after curfew. What’s been keeping you?”

“I was studying. Professor Snape was tutoring me,” he wished that were the case.

“Until two hours after curfew?” Hermione frowned. “Anyways, it’s late. I’m going to bed now. Good night, Harry.”

Harry watched her go up and then collapsed on the sofa, woolgathering about his interesting predicament and how he was going to survive the rest of the term when it was already beginning to get worrisome. All he knew that that if he didn’t stop, then one day he was going to slip. One day, he was going to give Snape exactly what he wanted and… he wanted to kiss him.

A/N: Delayed update and still no teasers?! I am very sorry, but let’s hope the next chapter will be here faster.
Please review and encourage me to update more frequently! Your snarry fix will be coming shortly.