fic: The Gift
Dec. 9th, 2009 04:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mini_festTitle: The Gift
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
whitestar_alpha
Characters: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3625
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters sadly, I just like to play with them...lots.
Warnings: AU, slash, cursing
Summary: Prompt #12 Snarry: Harry tries to find the perfect present to help him confess his love to his teacher.
Notes: This fic is for the minifest over at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
mini_fest on live. Thanks to my betas E, K on LJ or S on Ij, B and G for their feedback and terrific help!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Maybe Harry should get her some jewelry. Girls like jewelry, right, Hermione?"
Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "Not all women like jewelry, Ronald. Some like clothes, sweets, or even books."
Ron rolled his eyes. "OK, I get the hint. No need to hit me over the head with a bludger."
Harry listened quietly while his best friends debated on what he should give his new love interest for Christmas. He had asked for their help, but they weren't getting anywhere, probably because he hadn't given them one key piece of information.
Harry and Hermione were sitting comfortably on the sofa enjoying the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry had surrounded them with the Muffliato spell despite Hermione's protest, because there was no way he was going to take the chance that any of the other Gryffindors would eavesdrop on their conversation. Ron sat on the rug at Hermione's feet, busy unwrapping the food parcel Mrs. Weasley had sent. She had been sending weekly deliveries of cake and biscuits ever since the beginning of December to prepare them for the holidays. Ron let out a loud whoop when he discovered the firewhiskey the twins had secretly stashed in with the food.
“Harry doesn't really need to give her a present anyway," Ron said, as he handed Harry and Hermione each a bottle of firewhiskey.
"Why do you say that?" Hermione turned her head to look at Ron, her eyebrows fighting a war between surprise and disapproval.
“I mean, he should just tell her he fancies her." Ron shrugged. "He's Harry Potter, that's enough of a present. She'd probably keel over if he wrapped himself in a bow and showed up at her doorstep. Ow!" He frowned at Hermione who had leaned over and smacked him in the arm.
Harry scratched his head, messing his unruly hair even further. “Well, it isn’t that simple," he said as he reached for a ginger biscuit.
"Why not?” asked Ron, taking a bite of cake. "Girls trail you everywhere, you could take your pick." He brushed the crumbs that fell on his lap onto the rug. Hermione frowned, pulled out her wand and vanished the crumbs away.
“I didn't exactly have an easy time talking to Cho, and this time, well, it’s not, um, who you think," Harry said.
"Then tell us who it is, because you make it sound like you’re in love with Hagrid.” Ron threw his head back and laughed. “Ow! Will you stop that?" Ron rubbed his arm and shot a glare at Hermione.
"He'll tell us when he's ready, won't you Harry?" Hermione asked, turning back to look at him. “Do you think he feels the same way towards you?” she continued.
“Wait, hold on a sec. What did you say?" Ron wiped his mouth on his sleeve and mumbled through a mouthful of food, a quizzical look passing over his face. "Don’t you mean 'she'?”
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronald."
Harry didn’t answer, but could feel his face start to heat. He took a gulp of firewhiskey to cover his embarrassment, and promptly choked as it burned on the way down.
Hermione turned back to look at him and gave a soft smile. “Do you want me to tell him?”
Surprised at her question, Harry nodded as he tried to catch his breath. He was the great Harry Potter, the Chosen One and he didn’t even have the nerve to tell his friends he was gay, although leave it to Hermione to figure out.
He hadn't a clue he was gay until after the business of killing Voldemort was over, and not until they'd returned for their final year at Hogwarts. Then he discovered he couldn't get one certain person out of his mind.
He would've never thought his fantasies would centre around him. But, it made an odd sort of sense now, all the fights they’d had. It was like pulling a girl's pigtails and dipping them in the inkwell. Negative attention was still attention.
He turned his focus back to the conversation.
“Harry isn’t interested in girls,” Hermione stated matter-of-factly.
“Huh? What? What're you saying?" Ron glanced between the two of them, his brows knit together in confusion. "You’re what? Like a poof?” Ron stared at Harry as if he'd turned into a Blast-Ended Skrewt.
“Stop it, Ronald," Hermione said, giving him a disapproving frown. "Harry is still the same person. Besides, I guessed some time ago."
"What made you think I was gay?” Harry managed to eek out, his voice still a bit rough from the firewhiskey.
“Ginny and I figured it out when you started to avoid her after we got back from hunting the Horcruxes. We weren’t sure at first, but then we saw how you kept sneaking peaks at Draco every time he walked by. Not to mention the fact that you seemed to be so obsessed with him for a while.”
“I did no such thing!" Harry protested. "And I told you I thought he was a Death Eater and was up to something. I wasn't obsessed with him!”
“Yes, you did, and you were,” Hermione insisted.
“Yeah, mate. Now that she mentions it, I remember catching you staring at the ferret’s arse a few times, and ‘obsessed’ is an understatement.” Ron shook his head and reached for another piece of cake. “Blimey, you sure have disappointed a lot of birds.”
Harry looked from one to the other of his friends and started to laugh. Ron and Hermione joined in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus was busy going over the last of the Defense Against the Dark Art essays before the Christmas holidays, when he heard a loud rap on his door. Without looking up he called, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Professor."
Severus sighed. He supposed he could provoke Potter by asking who exactly 'me' was and then send him away, but the sooner he heard what the boy had to say, the sooner he could get back to finishing the essay corrections - at least until the next time Potter found an excuse to come visit him again. He didn't think the boy could get any more annoying, but for whatever reason, since the Dark Lord's demise, Potter had taken to watching, or following him around closely. On top of that, Potter would come knocking at his door at all times of the day with Defense questions. If he didn't know better, he would've thought Potter was searching out his company.
He opened the door with a flick of his wand and gestured for the boy to enter.
“What is it?” said Severus, going back to correcting essays.
"Could I speak to you a moment, Professor?"
"If I said no, would that stop you?"
“No.”
Severus took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He set his quill carefully in its holder. He could do this, he would not let the boy get to him.
“Very well, what is it that you wish to speak to me about?” he asked, as he swiveled on his chair to give Potter his undivided attention.
Potter stepped further into the room.
"I... I, wanted to give you a Christmas present.”
"I neither need, nor expect, a present, Potter. Now, if that is all, I have papers to correct and hand back. Close the door on your way out."
The boy made no move to leave as Severus turned back to his work.
A cough and the shuffling of feet sounded from Potter's direction. "Actually, Professor, I would really like to give you this present. It's important." More shuffling of feet disturbed the dungeon quiet.
Severus had started to reach for his quill but pulled back his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. He may as well get it over with. He had faced the Dark Lord, he could certainly handle a boy who insisted on giving him an unwanted Christmas present.
He closed his eyes, maybe the boy would be gone when he opened them. Slowly, he opened them. No, he was still there. Staring at the boy he finally said, "Very well. If it will allow me to return to my task of reminding students of their stupidity, then by all means, you may hand over the present."
A small laugh burst from Potter.
Why was Potter behaving so strangely? And why was his face flushed?
He watched as the boy stepped forward, then stopped about a meter away.
Severus frowned. What kind of present needed to be given at that distance?
Slowly, Potter fumbled with the clasp on his robe and, with only a slight bit of hesitation, flung it open.
“Bloody hell!” Severus stood so abruptly his chair crashed to the floor with a bang. His eyebrows shot up under his fringe and he stared wide-eyed at Potter and his questionable and distinct lack of proper clothing. Boxers, for that was all Potter was wearing under his robe. Boxers that had a cauldron over the front centre and a distinct large, hard bulge attempting to make its way out of the opening. Severus averted his eyes from the mesmerising sight and fixed them on Potter's face.
His voice tight, he asked, “Have you been drinking?”
Potter fidgeted. “Well, um, only a little.” He flashed a huge grin.
What had the idiot been thinking? Severus felt a headache coming on.
Collecting his scrambled thoughts, he said, “I suggest, Mr. Potter, that you close up your robe this instant and return to your dormitory."
Potter shook his head. "No, I can't do that. You see, if I do that, then you won't get your present." He took a few unsteady steps toward Severus, forcing Severus to back up against the fallen chair.
"What you need, is to return to your common room and sober up. You don't know what you're doing. You'll wake up tomorrow morning and shock yourself. I have some sober-up potion in stock, I'll get it for you." He made a move to sweep past the boy, but Potter's hand reached out to grasp his arm.
Severus looked down at the hand on his arm. The hand was tanned and rougher than normal for a teenaged boy's. It was the hand of someone who had not had a pampered life. The warmth of it seeped through the sleeve of his robe, heating more than just his arm. What was the boy doing? And why was he letting him do it? Why wasn't he making Potter leave? He could easily make him. Just shove him out the door and lock it. But somehow he was trapped. His own body had turned traitor. Instead, his eyes kept roving over the boy's firm chest and flat belly where a dark trail of wiry hair started and lead down beneath the top of the boxers with the cauldron and ... Severus licked his lips. No, he wouldn't allow himself to think along those lines. He must keep his distance.
"I really believe you need to leave." Severus forced himself to take a few steps back, which forced Potter to remove his hand.
Potter only shook his head in response. "Hermione figured you wouldn’t believe me if I came here drunk, so she suggested I bring this." He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a crystal vial of 'sober-up' potion. He uncorked it and tossed his head back as he swallowed the thick amber liquid. His face scrunched up at the taste, and he swallowed a few more times as if to clear his palate. Potter recorked the vial and returned it to his pocket, as he waited for the potion to take affect.
Now, fully sober, he advanced steadily toward Severus, who was once again standing stock still looking down at an amazing pair of clear, green eyes.
“You discussed your interest toward me with your -?”
“Not exactly,” interrupted Potter.
“Oh?”
“I knew Ron and Hermione would throw a fit if they knew it was you. But, I wanted their advice on what to give you for Christmas.”
Severus snorted. “So, all of you decided on a pair of boxers." He waved a hand in the direction of Potter's torso, "With a cauldron on it? A pair of used ones at that. Your lack of intellect never ceases to amaze me.” He looked down his nose at Potter with disdain. There, insulting the boy should get him to leave.
Undeterred, Potter closed the distance between them, took a deep breath and said, “The boxers and robe are just the wrapping."
Severus’s eyes went wide. Fuck! The boy was offering himself! Was this some sort of sick Gryffindor joke?
His eyebrows drew together in a deep scowl and he folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t find this one bit amusing, Potter. If this is your idea of a joke, leave this instant.”
Potter shook his head. “No, it’s not. But, I didn’t expect you to believe me anyway.” He looked away and absently scanned the full potion jars meticulously lined up against the wall before turning back to lock eyes with Severus. “I’m willing to let you look into my mind if you need to." His tone was one of readiness and acceptance. Was this what Potter was like when he walked to his death? This couldn't be the same boy he had taught only a year ago.
Green eyes gazed expectantly back at him. Potter was never one to hide his emotions. He wore his heart on his sleeve like so many Gryffindors. Severus saw no lies, no deceit, and for the boy to even consider voluntary entrance into his mind after their disastrous lessons was surprising. Potter was indeed brave, or foolish.
“No. That won’t be necessary," Severus said quietly.
He made a move to turn around and right his chair, but felt a firm hand on his arm again.
"Professor, this isn't a joke."
He sighed. Even if it wasn't a joke, it would never work. There was too much history between them. Let alone the boy still reminded him too much of his idiot of a father.
"Go back to your dormitory. Tomorrow you'll regret you ever came here."
"I won't." There was a pause. "I've wanted to tell you for a while now how I felt about you. I thought Christmas was as good a time as any to show you." A small smile tugged at the corner of Potter's mouth, although Severus could see a trace of uncertainty in his eyes.
Before, he would have taken advantage of that uncertainty and taunted Potter mercilessly with it, but now he just wanted to wash his hands of any further connection with the boy, even though he was sorely tempted by what he was offered. He'd fulfilled his promise to Lily and Albus by protecting the annoying whelp, now it was time Potter grew up and learned to survive on his own. He didn't need his protection any more. And if he did need protecting, Potter had a legion of friends and worshippers who would do that. Severus was glad he only had to fulfill one more year as Potter's professor, then it would be over.
Severus had no desire to call anyone master any longer, but the Headmistress had pleaded with him and had convinced the Ministry to offer him a very comfortable monetary stipend if he would finish out one more term at Hogwarts to educate all the returning seventh years in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was far too great an enticement to refuse. It would help him on the way to setting up his dream of a potions shop. He'd be free to travel the world to collect rare and precious ingredients. But it wasn't the only reason he stayed. Even though his name had been officially cleared, it wasn't enough. He wanted to undo some of the damage of the past year. He would stay the term, but until then, he just wanted the boy to keep his distance.
"You don't know what you're asking for." Severus rubbed his aching temple with his free hand. He couldn't bring himself to move the arm that Potter's hand still rested upon. "You haven't fully considered the ramifications of a... relationship, with a Death Eater."
Potter stepped even closer, until there was barely a handspan between them, his eyes focused intensely on Severus's own. "An ex-Death Eater who was a spy for the Order and who saved my life countless times."
Severus worked to slow his breathing down. Potter was standing far too close. He could feel the heat radiating off the boy's body, the scent of the sober-up potion he had taken, and the all too intoxicating masculine aroma that rose in a warm cloud to surround Severus, calling him to pull Potter closer, until he was flush up against Severus's now achingly, hungry body. This would not do. "That has not changed who, or what I am, what I've done, or how I've treated you. This is a pointless discussion. It's time for you to leave. As it is, I'll be up all night working on these essays."
The boy's eyes, still hopeful, searched his face. "Are you absolutely sure?"
Severus gave a curt nod. "I am."
Potter's shoulders slumped and he removed his hand from Severus's arm, leaving the spot where it had lain, cold.
He reached into another one of his robe's pockets and withdrew a square object. "Here then, you may as well take this." He opened his hand and in his palm rested a silver paper-wrapped box, tied with bright green ribbon.
"What's this?" Severus eyed it suspiciously.
"It's a gift." He pushed it into Severus's hand. "Go on, open it."
Severus took the box hesitantly. “Another one?”
“Yeah, just in case you didn’t want -" Potter waved a hand over his body.
How could he tell Potter that any reluctance was not due to lack of desire on his part? He was more than aware of how much Potter's body had changed during the past year and was now that of a lean, yet muscular, man. A man's body that had shown that it desired him when first unveiled. Although why Potter desired him was beyond Severus's comprehension. He had no illusions about his lack of pleasing physical attributes, nor the difference in their ages. Even if Potter could overlook the unattractive physical qualities and his age, there was still too much animosity that had passed between them. How could that ever be overcome? If things had been different, Severus might have convinced himself that there could have been a possibility of at least a friendship. But any sort of relationship between them wouldn't be accepted. Even if Potter was now of age, the wizarding world would condemn and question Potter's choice. They would think that he had Imperiused the boy. No, it would never work.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Potter prodded the gift.
Severus glanced at him, then back down at the silver wrapped box. Slowly he untied the green ribbon and unwrapped his present.
He lifted the lid, pulled back the white tissue paper, and arched his eyebrow at the sight of what was nestled at the bottom. Boxers. A pair of boxers, with snitches on them.
“You are either quite the optimistic Gryffindor, or have extremely poor taste in gifts.”
Potter laughed. “I prefer optimistic. How else do you think I survived everything that’s happened to me over the years?" He gave a small crooked smile and added in a quiet, somber tone. "Look, if this is too fast for you, we could take it slower. I won't give up, Professor. You know I can be just as stubborn as you are, you won't get rid of me that easily."
Severus searched Potter's face and the determined green eyes that gazed back at him. Before him stood not the undisciplined child, but an alarmingly attractive young man who seemed intent on pursuing him. It was a position in which Severus had never imagined himself in.
He had wondered to what extent Potter's encounters with the Dark Lord would change him. It appeared not in ways that were overtly noticeable. Potter still had his moments of impulsiveness, his cheekiness, and an inability to take no for an answer. But there was also an air of patience and focus that surrounded him. The boy appeared to have grown up, and not in just a physical way.
Maybe, he should take the time to learn more about this new Potter. Albus had said that Potter was more like Lily than James, maybe he should see if Albus was right. He could at least agree to meet with Potter a few times. Nothing may ever come of it, but maybe he could put the past behind them, if only to honor Lily - especially as it already seemed that Potter was trying to do just that. Also Potter was if nothing else, - persistent.
Severus didn't care to find out what sort of creative overtures Potter would make if he refused. If only to give himself some time to get his work done, agreeing to what Potter asked would keep him out of his hair for a while. So many 'maybes', but he wouldn't find the answers he sought unless he agreed to a meeting.
Severus looked at the boy, no, the man, standing in front of him and took a breath.
“What are you doing Boxing Day?” he asked.
Harry grinned, his smile so infectious, Severus could feel the corners of his own mouth prick up.
Author:
whitestar_alphaCharacters: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3625
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters sadly, I just like to play with them...lots.
Warnings: AU, slash, cursing
Summary: Prompt #12 Snarry: Harry tries to find the perfect present to help him confess his love to his teacher.
Notes: This fic is for the minifest over at
mini_fest on live. Thanks to my betas E, K on LJ or S on Ij, B and G for their feedback and terrific help!"Maybe Harry should get her some jewelry. Girls like jewelry, right, Hermione?"
Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "Not all women like jewelry, Ronald. Some like clothes, sweets, or even books."
Ron rolled his eyes. "OK, I get the hint. No need to hit me over the head with a bludger."
Harry listened quietly while his best friends debated on what he should give his new love interest for Christmas. He had asked for their help, but they weren't getting anywhere, probably because he hadn't given them one key piece of information.
Harry and Hermione were sitting comfortably on the sofa enjoying the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry had surrounded them with the Muffliato spell despite Hermione's protest, because there was no way he was going to take the chance that any of the other Gryffindors would eavesdrop on their conversation. Ron sat on the rug at Hermione's feet, busy unwrapping the food parcel Mrs. Weasley had sent. She had been sending weekly deliveries of cake and biscuits ever since the beginning of December to prepare them for the holidays. Ron let out a loud whoop when he discovered the firewhiskey the twins had secretly stashed in with the food.
“Harry doesn't really need to give her a present anyway," Ron said, as he handed Harry and Hermione each a bottle of firewhiskey.
"Why do you say that?" Hermione turned her head to look at Ron, her eyebrows fighting a war between surprise and disapproval.
“I mean, he should just tell her he fancies her." Ron shrugged. "He's Harry Potter, that's enough of a present. She'd probably keel over if he wrapped himself in a bow and showed up at her doorstep. Ow!" He frowned at Hermione who had leaned over and smacked him in the arm.
Harry scratched his head, messing his unruly hair even further. “Well, it isn’t that simple," he said as he reached for a ginger biscuit.
"Why not?” asked Ron, taking a bite of cake. "Girls trail you everywhere, you could take your pick." He brushed the crumbs that fell on his lap onto the rug. Hermione frowned, pulled out her wand and vanished the crumbs away.
“I didn't exactly have an easy time talking to Cho, and this time, well, it’s not, um, who you think," Harry said.
"Then tell us who it is, because you make it sound like you’re in love with Hagrid.” Ron threw his head back and laughed. “Ow! Will you stop that?" Ron rubbed his arm and shot a glare at Hermione.
"He'll tell us when he's ready, won't you Harry?" Hermione asked, turning back to look at him. “Do you think he feels the same way towards you?” she continued.
“Wait, hold on a sec. What did you say?" Ron wiped his mouth on his sleeve and mumbled through a mouthful of food, a quizzical look passing over his face. "Don’t you mean 'she'?”
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronald."
Harry didn’t answer, but could feel his face start to heat. He took a gulp of firewhiskey to cover his embarrassment, and promptly choked as it burned on the way down.
Hermione turned back to look at him and gave a soft smile. “Do you want me to tell him?”
Surprised at her question, Harry nodded as he tried to catch his breath. He was the great Harry Potter, the Chosen One and he didn’t even have the nerve to tell his friends he was gay, although leave it to Hermione to figure out.
He hadn't a clue he was gay until after the business of killing Voldemort was over, and not until they'd returned for their final year at Hogwarts. Then he discovered he couldn't get one certain person out of his mind.
He would've never thought his fantasies would centre around him. But, it made an odd sort of sense now, all the fights they’d had. It was like pulling a girl's pigtails and dipping them in the inkwell. Negative attention was still attention.
He turned his focus back to the conversation.
“Harry isn’t interested in girls,” Hermione stated matter-of-factly.
“Huh? What? What're you saying?" Ron glanced between the two of them, his brows knit together in confusion. "You’re what? Like a poof?” Ron stared at Harry as if he'd turned into a Blast-Ended Skrewt.
“Stop it, Ronald," Hermione said, giving him a disapproving frown. "Harry is still the same person. Besides, I guessed some time ago."
"What made you think I was gay?” Harry managed to eek out, his voice still a bit rough from the firewhiskey.
“Ginny and I figured it out when you started to avoid her after we got back from hunting the Horcruxes. We weren’t sure at first, but then we saw how you kept sneaking peaks at Draco every time he walked by. Not to mention the fact that you seemed to be so obsessed with him for a while.”
“I did no such thing!" Harry protested. "And I told you I thought he was a Death Eater and was up to something. I wasn't obsessed with him!”
“Yes, you did, and you were,” Hermione insisted.
“Yeah, mate. Now that she mentions it, I remember catching you staring at the ferret’s arse a few times, and ‘obsessed’ is an understatement.” Ron shook his head and reached for another piece of cake. “Blimey, you sure have disappointed a lot of birds.”
Harry looked from one to the other of his friends and started to laugh. Ron and Hermione joined in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus was busy going over the last of the Defense Against the Dark Art essays before the Christmas holidays, when he heard a loud rap on his door. Without looking up he called, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Professor."
Severus sighed. He supposed he could provoke Potter by asking who exactly 'me' was and then send him away, but the sooner he heard what the boy had to say, the sooner he could get back to finishing the essay corrections - at least until the next time Potter found an excuse to come visit him again. He didn't think the boy could get any more annoying, but for whatever reason, since the Dark Lord's demise, Potter had taken to watching, or following him around closely. On top of that, Potter would come knocking at his door at all times of the day with Defense questions. If he didn't know better, he would've thought Potter was searching out his company.
He opened the door with a flick of his wand and gestured for the boy to enter.
“What is it?” said Severus, going back to correcting essays.
"Could I speak to you a moment, Professor?"
"If I said no, would that stop you?"
“No.”
Severus took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He set his quill carefully in its holder. He could do this, he would not let the boy get to him.
“Very well, what is it that you wish to speak to me about?” he asked, as he swiveled on his chair to give Potter his undivided attention.
Potter stepped further into the room.
"I... I, wanted to give you a Christmas present.”
"I neither need, nor expect, a present, Potter. Now, if that is all, I have papers to correct and hand back. Close the door on your way out."
The boy made no move to leave as Severus turned back to his work.
A cough and the shuffling of feet sounded from Potter's direction. "Actually, Professor, I would really like to give you this present. It's important." More shuffling of feet disturbed the dungeon quiet.
Severus had started to reach for his quill but pulled back his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. He may as well get it over with. He had faced the Dark Lord, he could certainly handle a boy who insisted on giving him an unwanted Christmas present.
He closed his eyes, maybe the boy would be gone when he opened them. Slowly, he opened them. No, he was still there. Staring at the boy he finally said, "Very well. If it will allow me to return to my task of reminding students of their stupidity, then by all means, you may hand over the present."
A small laugh burst from Potter.
Why was Potter behaving so strangely? And why was his face flushed?
He watched as the boy stepped forward, then stopped about a meter away.
Severus frowned. What kind of present needed to be given at that distance?
Slowly, Potter fumbled with the clasp on his robe and, with only a slight bit of hesitation, flung it open.
“Bloody hell!” Severus stood so abruptly his chair crashed to the floor with a bang. His eyebrows shot up under his fringe and he stared wide-eyed at Potter and his questionable and distinct lack of proper clothing. Boxers, for that was all Potter was wearing under his robe. Boxers that had a cauldron over the front centre and a distinct large, hard bulge attempting to make its way out of the opening. Severus averted his eyes from the mesmerising sight and fixed them on Potter's face.
His voice tight, he asked, “Have you been drinking?”
Potter fidgeted. “Well, um, only a little.” He flashed a huge grin.
What had the idiot been thinking? Severus felt a headache coming on.
Collecting his scrambled thoughts, he said, “I suggest, Mr. Potter, that you close up your robe this instant and return to your dormitory."
Potter shook his head. "No, I can't do that. You see, if I do that, then you won't get your present." He took a few unsteady steps toward Severus, forcing Severus to back up against the fallen chair.
"What you need, is to return to your common room and sober up. You don't know what you're doing. You'll wake up tomorrow morning and shock yourself. I have some sober-up potion in stock, I'll get it for you." He made a move to sweep past the boy, but Potter's hand reached out to grasp his arm.
Severus looked down at the hand on his arm. The hand was tanned and rougher than normal for a teenaged boy's. It was the hand of someone who had not had a pampered life. The warmth of it seeped through the sleeve of his robe, heating more than just his arm. What was the boy doing? And why was he letting him do it? Why wasn't he making Potter leave? He could easily make him. Just shove him out the door and lock it. But somehow he was trapped. His own body had turned traitor. Instead, his eyes kept roving over the boy's firm chest and flat belly where a dark trail of wiry hair started and lead down beneath the top of the boxers with the cauldron and ... Severus licked his lips. No, he wouldn't allow himself to think along those lines. He must keep his distance.
"I really believe you need to leave." Severus forced himself to take a few steps back, which forced Potter to remove his hand.
Potter only shook his head in response. "Hermione figured you wouldn’t believe me if I came here drunk, so she suggested I bring this." He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a crystal vial of 'sober-up' potion. He uncorked it and tossed his head back as he swallowed the thick amber liquid. His face scrunched up at the taste, and he swallowed a few more times as if to clear his palate. Potter recorked the vial and returned it to his pocket, as he waited for the potion to take affect.
Now, fully sober, he advanced steadily toward Severus, who was once again standing stock still looking down at an amazing pair of clear, green eyes.
“You discussed your interest toward me with your -?”
“Not exactly,” interrupted Potter.
“Oh?”
“I knew Ron and Hermione would throw a fit if they knew it was you. But, I wanted their advice on what to give you for Christmas.”
Severus snorted. “So, all of you decided on a pair of boxers." He waved a hand in the direction of Potter's torso, "With a cauldron on it? A pair of used ones at that. Your lack of intellect never ceases to amaze me.” He looked down his nose at Potter with disdain. There, insulting the boy should get him to leave.
Undeterred, Potter closed the distance between them, took a deep breath and said, “The boxers and robe are just the wrapping."
Severus’s eyes went wide. Fuck! The boy was offering himself! Was this some sort of sick Gryffindor joke?
His eyebrows drew together in a deep scowl and he folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t find this one bit amusing, Potter. If this is your idea of a joke, leave this instant.”
Potter shook his head. “No, it’s not. But, I didn’t expect you to believe me anyway.” He looked away and absently scanned the full potion jars meticulously lined up against the wall before turning back to lock eyes with Severus. “I’m willing to let you look into my mind if you need to." His tone was one of readiness and acceptance. Was this what Potter was like when he walked to his death? This couldn't be the same boy he had taught only a year ago.
Green eyes gazed expectantly back at him. Potter was never one to hide his emotions. He wore his heart on his sleeve like so many Gryffindors. Severus saw no lies, no deceit, and for the boy to even consider voluntary entrance into his mind after their disastrous lessons was surprising. Potter was indeed brave, or foolish.
“No. That won’t be necessary," Severus said quietly.
He made a move to turn around and right his chair, but felt a firm hand on his arm again.
"Professor, this isn't a joke."
He sighed. Even if it wasn't a joke, it would never work. There was too much history between them. Let alone the boy still reminded him too much of his idiot of a father.
"Go back to your dormitory. Tomorrow you'll regret you ever came here."
"I won't." There was a pause. "I've wanted to tell you for a while now how I felt about you. I thought Christmas was as good a time as any to show you." A small smile tugged at the corner of Potter's mouth, although Severus could see a trace of uncertainty in his eyes.
Before, he would have taken advantage of that uncertainty and taunted Potter mercilessly with it, but now he just wanted to wash his hands of any further connection with the boy, even though he was sorely tempted by what he was offered. He'd fulfilled his promise to Lily and Albus by protecting the annoying whelp, now it was time Potter grew up and learned to survive on his own. He didn't need his protection any more. And if he did need protecting, Potter had a legion of friends and worshippers who would do that. Severus was glad he only had to fulfill one more year as Potter's professor, then it would be over.
Severus had no desire to call anyone master any longer, but the Headmistress had pleaded with him and had convinced the Ministry to offer him a very comfortable monetary stipend if he would finish out one more term at Hogwarts to educate all the returning seventh years in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was far too great an enticement to refuse. It would help him on the way to setting up his dream of a potions shop. He'd be free to travel the world to collect rare and precious ingredients. But it wasn't the only reason he stayed. Even though his name had been officially cleared, it wasn't enough. He wanted to undo some of the damage of the past year. He would stay the term, but until then, he just wanted the boy to keep his distance.
"You don't know what you're asking for." Severus rubbed his aching temple with his free hand. He couldn't bring himself to move the arm that Potter's hand still rested upon. "You haven't fully considered the ramifications of a... relationship, with a Death Eater."
Potter stepped even closer, until there was barely a handspan between them, his eyes focused intensely on Severus's own. "An ex-Death Eater who was a spy for the Order and who saved my life countless times."
Severus worked to slow his breathing down. Potter was standing far too close. He could feel the heat radiating off the boy's body, the scent of the sober-up potion he had taken, and the all too intoxicating masculine aroma that rose in a warm cloud to surround Severus, calling him to pull Potter closer, until he was flush up against Severus's now achingly, hungry body. This would not do. "That has not changed who, or what I am, what I've done, or how I've treated you. This is a pointless discussion. It's time for you to leave. As it is, I'll be up all night working on these essays."
The boy's eyes, still hopeful, searched his face. "Are you absolutely sure?"
Severus gave a curt nod. "I am."
Potter's shoulders slumped and he removed his hand from Severus's arm, leaving the spot where it had lain, cold.
He reached into another one of his robe's pockets and withdrew a square object. "Here then, you may as well take this." He opened his hand and in his palm rested a silver paper-wrapped box, tied with bright green ribbon.
"What's this?" Severus eyed it suspiciously.
"It's a gift." He pushed it into Severus's hand. "Go on, open it."
Severus took the box hesitantly. “Another one?”
“Yeah, just in case you didn’t want -" Potter waved a hand over his body.
How could he tell Potter that any reluctance was not due to lack of desire on his part? He was more than aware of how much Potter's body had changed during the past year and was now that of a lean, yet muscular, man. A man's body that had shown that it desired him when first unveiled. Although why Potter desired him was beyond Severus's comprehension. He had no illusions about his lack of pleasing physical attributes, nor the difference in their ages. Even if Potter could overlook the unattractive physical qualities and his age, there was still too much animosity that had passed between them. How could that ever be overcome? If things had been different, Severus might have convinced himself that there could have been a possibility of at least a friendship. But any sort of relationship between them wouldn't be accepted. Even if Potter was now of age, the wizarding world would condemn and question Potter's choice. They would think that he had Imperiused the boy. No, it would never work.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Potter prodded the gift.
Severus glanced at him, then back down at the silver wrapped box. Slowly he untied the green ribbon and unwrapped his present.
He lifted the lid, pulled back the white tissue paper, and arched his eyebrow at the sight of what was nestled at the bottom. Boxers. A pair of boxers, with snitches on them.
“You are either quite the optimistic Gryffindor, or have extremely poor taste in gifts.”
Potter laughed. “I prefer optimistic. How else do you think I survived everything that’s happened to me over the years?" He gave a small crooked smile and added in a quiet, somber tone. "Look, if this is too fast for you, we could take it slower. I won't give up, Professor. You know I can be just as stubborn as you are, you won't get rid of me that easily."
Severus searched Potter's face and the determined green eyes that gazed back at him. Before him stood not the undisciplined child, but an alarmingly attractive young man who seemed intent on pursuing him. It was a position in which Severus had never imagined himself in.
He had wondered to what extent Potter's encounters with the Dark Lord would change him. It appeared not in ways that were overtly noticeable. Potter still had his moments of impulsiveness, his cheekiness, and an inability to take no for an answer. But there was also an air of patience and focus that surrounded him. The boy appeared to have grown up, and not in just a physical way.
Maybe, he should take the time to learn more about this new Potter. Albus had said that Potter was more like Lily than James, maybe he should see if Albus was right. He could at least agree to meet with Potter a few times. Nothing may ever come of it, but maybe he could put the past behind them, if only to honor Lily - especially as it already seemed that Potter was trying to do just that. Also Potter was if nothing else, - persistent.
Severus didn't care to find out what sort of creative overtures Potter would make if he refused. If only to give himself some time to get his work done, agreeing to what Potter asked would keep him out of his hair for a while. So many 'maybes', but he wouldn't find the answers he sought unless he agreed to a meeting.
Severus looked at the boy, no, the man, standing in front of him and took a breath.
“What are you doing Boxing Day?” he asked.
Harry grinned, his smile so infectious, Severus could feel the corners of his own mouth prick up.
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Date: 2009-12-09 09:03 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-12-09 12:23 pm (UTC)Love the cauldron and snitches - snarry games, anyone?
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Date: 2010-01-03 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-09 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-01-03 03:17 am (UTC)I think Severus is slightly right, Harry doesn't have the best taste in gifts, lol. But Harry really wanted to get his point across ^_^
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Date: 2009-12-10 02:10 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-01-17 12:31 pm (UTC)