Where Do We Go From Here?
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
10,908
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
10,908
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Where Do We Go From Here?
Disclaimer: I don\'t own anything related to the Harry Potter Universe, unfortunately. That honor belongs to the illustrious JK Rowling.
Author\'s note: This is my first fan-fic of any type, let alone slash. The first few chapters are probably going to be R, but I\'ll probably move it to NC-17 later. Please review! I know people don\'t always have a lot of time, but I\'d really like to know what y\'all think! Now, on to the story . . . hope you enjoy.
Harry walked into the Potions classroom,studiously avoiding looking in Snape’s direction. The dream he’d had last night made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to think about it. If he looked at Snape, he’d have to think about it; therefore, he wouldn’t look at Snape. Hermione and Ron were both watching him, exchanging glances from either side of his head. They both knew that something was bothering him, but he had refused to tell them what it was, only telling them that it was nothing they would be able to help him with. And it was the truth . . . mostly. He wished that he could talk to them about it; well, he wished that he could talk to Hermione, at any rate. She might be able to clear it up for him. But if he told Hermione, he’d have to tell Ron, and he wasn’t sure that that would be such a good idea. Ron was just now getting used to the idea that he preferred males to females; somehow Harry didn’t think that Ron would be very comfortable with the idea that he was now having erotic dreams about their greasy git of a Potions Professor. Hells, he wasn’t even comfortable with it, and he was the one who’d had the dream! He just prayed that his friends wouldn’t worry about him too much, and that he wouldn’t do anything to draw Snape’s attention to himself this class period. The last thing he wanted right now was Severus Snape breathing down his neck . . . even though in his dream last night he’d found it quite enjoyable.
What the hell are you thinking, Harry? he asked himself. That’s not exactly the kind of thought you want to be having anytime, but especially not when you’re in Potions class!
But why not? he argued with himself. Why shouldn’t I think those things? I mean, our relationship isn’t as bad as it was before. We’ve had to spend a lot of time together over the last six months, what with him teaching me Occlumency and then Legilimency. Thinking of that, maybe I should Occlude that dream right now . . . I never know when he’s going to try and break my barriers, and I don’t think I’m ready for him to see that just yet.
What do you mean, ‘just yet’? He’s never going to find out about that if I have anything to say about it!
Well, maybe you don’t have anything to say about it, did you ever think of that? Maybe I want him to find out about it, just not right now, at the start of a Potions lesson. Sure, I’ve been doing better since I really started working at it last year, but I still can’t afford to have my mind occupied by something else during these lessons, so will you kindly shut up so I can pay attention!
You do realize you’re being a little scary right now, don’t you? Arguing with yourself?
Well, if you’d shut up, then I wouldn’t have to, now would I? Oh, bloody hell!
As his internal argument ended, he made eye contact with Snape, and sudden images from his dream of the night before . . . of long pale fingers caressing his skin and of a talented tongue warring with his own, and of a velvety smooth voice wreaking havoc on all of his senses . . . entered his mind, and his body immediately responded. He felt his face flush, and was thankful that he was at his bench so that he could sit down and pray that no one had seen the evidence of his sudden lust. Except Snape, whose face was impassive as ever to his classmates, but whose eyes showed Harry his puzzlement, and Harry knew that he would be staying after class this afternoon. He just wasn’t sure whether he should be grateful for the opportunity to clear the air, or frightened of the possibility that Snape would discover his sudden attraction.
Despite the fact that he was nervous that about what Snape would say to him after class, Harry was able to concentrate well enough on the lesson to be doing reasonably well with his potion. Hermione and Ron kept giving him worried looks, silently asking if he was okay, but all he could do to reassure them was to smile weakly at them and whisper that he was just tired. He figured it was okay that he told them that, because it wasn’t really lying. Trying to make sure that all of his lust-induced fantasies were Occluded from Snape while avoiding adding to them and still focusing on the lesson was exhausting him. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through the rest of the year without cracking under the strain . . . not to mention all of next year! But before he could let his thoughts wander too far, he forced himself to concentrate once again on his potion, not wanting to give his Professor a good reason to keep him after class, hoping to avoid a confrontation with the man before he’d even had a chance to really process his new feelings for himself.
But luck was not with Harry this afternoon. He’d been sure that he was focusing properly on the potion, but somehow he must have added the wrong ingredient at the wrong time. The swirling mixture in the cauldron was beginning to bubble ominously, and he knew that it was going to blow. Unsure of what he could do to prevent the explosion, he yelled out, “Professor!”
Snape was by his side in an instant, quickly taking stock of the situation. He cast a barrier around the table which stabilized half a second before the attempt at a potion exploded. Breathing steadily through his over-large nose, Snape turned and looked at Harry.
“Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, and see me after class.” Then he whipped around and stalked back to the front of the classroom, shouting, “And it will be ten from each person who does not get back to work immediately!” The rest of the students quickly turned back to their own cauldrons; the Slytherins were disappointed that there hadn’t been more of a show, and the Gryffindors were glad that there hadn’t been more points taken.
Harry waited for class to be over as patiently as he could, but he knew he was getting fidgety. He could feel Snape’s eyes on him, and it just made him more nervous than he’d been before. He tried focusing on various things; Hermione’s hands as she stirred her cauldron and helped Neville as surreptitiously as she could, the way Seamus tapped his foot impatiently as he cut up his next ingredient, the way Ron smiled whenever he looked at Hermione, even the way his own failed potion still bubbled as it stuck to the inside of the barrier spell that Snape had put up. Nothing worked. All he could think about was the fact that he was going to be alone with Snape. He was trying desperately to figure out what he could say in order to get away from Snape as soon as possible.
Long before he was ready for it, the class was over, Snape had dismissed the rest of the students, and Harry was standing in front of Snape’s desk, praying that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself and get hexed--or worse--by Snape. He watched Ron and Hermione leave with sympathetic expressions on their faces, then turned to look at the man who was suddenly, inexplicably, turning him on.
Author\'s note: This is my first fan-fic of any type, let alone slash. The first few chapters are probably going to be R, but I\'ll probably move it to NC-17 later. Please review! I know people don\'t always have a lot of time, but I\'d really like to know what y\'all think! Now, on to the story . . . hope you enjoy.
Harry walked into the Potions classroom,studiously avoiding looking in Snape’s direction. The dream he’d had last night made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to think about it. If he looked at Snape, he’d have to think about it; therefore, he wouldn’t look at Snape. Hermione and Ron were both watching him, exchanging glances from either side of his head. They both knew that something was bothering him, but he had refused to tell them what it was, only telling them that it was nothing they would be able to help him with. And it was the truth . . . mostly. He wished that he could talk to them about it; well, he wished that he could talk to Hermione, at any rate. She might be able to clear it up for him. But if he told Hermione, he’d have to tell Ron, and he wasn’t sure that that would be such a good idea. Ron was just now getting used to the idea that he preferred males to females; somehow Harry didn’t think that Ron would be very comfortable with the idea that he was now having erotic dreams about their greasy git of a Potions Professor. Hells, he wasn’t even comfortable with it, and he was the one who’d had the dream! He just prayed that his friends wouldn’t worry about him too much, and that he wouldn’t do anything to draw Snape’s attention to himself this class period. The last thing he wanted right now was Severus Snape breathing down his neck . . . even though in his dream last night he’d found it quite enjoyable.
What the hell are you thinking, Harry? he asked himself. That’s not exactly the kind of thought you want to be having anytime, but especially not when you’re in Potions class!
But why not? he argued with himself. Why shouldn’t I think those things? I mean, our relationship isn’t as bad as it was before. We’ve had to spend a lot of time together over the last six months, what with him teaching me Occlumency and then Legilimency. Thinking of that, maybe I should Occlude that dream right now . . . I never know when he’s going to try and break my barriers, and I don’t think I’m ready for him to see that just yet.
What do you mean, ‘just yet’? He’s never going to find out about that if I have anything to say about it!
Well, maybe you don’t have anything to say about it, did you ever think of that? Maybe I want him to find out about it, just not right now, at the start of a Potions lesson. Sure, I’ve been doing better since I really started working at it last year, but I still can’t afford to have my mind occupied by something else during these lessons, so will you kindly shut up so I can pay attention!
You do realize you’re being a little scary right now, don’t you? Arguing with yourself?
Well, if you’d shut up, then I wouldn’t have to, now would I? Oh, bloody hell!
As his internal argument ended, he made eye contact with Snape, and sudden images from his dream of the night before . . . of long pale fingers caressing his skin and of a talented tongue warring with his own, and of a velvety smooth voice wreaking havoc on all of his senses . . . entered his mind, and his body immediately responded. He felt his face flush, and was thankful that he was at his bench so that he could sit down and pray that no one had seen the evidence of his sudden lust. Except Snape, whose face was impassive as ever to his classmates, but whose eyes showed Harry his puzzlement, and Harry knew that he would be staying after class this afternoon. He just wasn’t sure whether he should be grateful for the opportunity to clear the air, or frightened of the possibility that Snape would discover his sudden attraction.
Despite the fact that he was nervous that about what Snape would say to him after class, Harry was able to concentrate well enough on the lesson to be doing reasonably well with his potion. Hermione and Ron kept giving him worried looks, silently asking if he was okay, but all he could do to reassure them was to smile weakly at them and whisper that he was just tired. He figured it was okay that he told them that, because it wasn’t really lying. Trying to make sure that all of his lust-induced fantasies were Occluded from Snape while avoiding adding to them and still focusing on the lesson was exhausting him. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through the rest of the year without cracking under the strain . . . not to mention all of next year! But before he could let his thoughts wander too far, he forced himself to concentrate once again on his potion, not wanting to give his Professor a good reason to keep him after class, hoping to avoid a confrontation with the man before he’d even had a chance to really process his new feelings for himself.
But luck was not with Harry this afternoon. He’d been sure that he was focusing properly on the potion, but somehow he must have added the wrong ingredient at the wrong time. The swirling mixture in the cauldron was beginning to bubble ominously, and he knew that it was going to blow. Unsure of what he could do to prevent the explosion, he yelled out, “Professor!”
Snape was by his side in an instant, quickly taking stock of the situation. He cast a barrier around the table which stabilized half a second before the attempt at a potion exploded. Breathing steadily through his over-large nose, Snape turned and looked at Harry.
“Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, and see me after class.” Then he whipped around and stalked back to the front of the classroom, shouting, “And it will be ten from each person who does not get back to work immediately!” The rest of the students quickly turned back to their own cauldrons; the Slytherins were disappointed that there hadn’t been more of a show, and the Gryffindors were glad that there hadn’t been more points taken.
Harry waited for class to be over as patiently as he could, but he knew he was getting fidgety. He could feel Snape’s eyes on him, and it just made him more nervous than he’d been before. He tried focusing on various things; Hermione’s hands as she stirred her cauldron and helped Neville as surreptitiously as she could, the way Seamus tapped his foot impatiently as he cut up his next ingredient, the way Ron smiled whenever he looked at Hermione, even the way his own failed potion still bubbled as it stuck to the inside of the barrier spell that Snape had put up. Nothing worked. All he could think about was the fact that he was going to be alone with Snape. He was trying desperately to figure out what he could say in order to get away from Snape as soon as possible.
Long before he was ready for it, the class was over, Snape had dismissed the rest of the students, and Harry was standing in front of Snape’s desk, praying that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself and get hexed--or worse--by Snape. He watched Ron and Hermione leave with sympathetic expressions on their faces, then turned to look at the man who was suddenly, inexplicably, turning him on.