18

Chapter Eighteen: Snakes and Lions.

Harry felt horribly humiliated as he realised what had just happened. He was still trembling, hands clutching Snape's arms. He didn't want to look up, or even move. In fact, all he wanted to do was crawl in a hole and hide forever.

How embarrassing! They hadn't even been naked or doing anything! And he just… came.

"Potter, it's quite alright," said Snape, feeling their magic loosen.

"I just…"

"Yes, I'm well aware of what happened," Severus murmured, gaining control over himself once more. He took his hands from Harry once he found his feet and did his buttons back up. "Through there, my quarters have a lavatory. You can change if you wish."

Harry looked up. "Into what!? I didn't exactly bring a spare change of clothes with me!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Go in there, get undressed and give them a bloody Scourgify charm! Unless you need me to assist with that, too?"

Harry went a very bright shade of red at the thought of Snape seeing him naked. No! Tonight he'd had enough embarrassment and excitement—clearly.

Moving awkwardly, Harry opened the door that led to Snape's quarters and looked around, seeing the extra room that was a bathroom. He instantly moved into it and closed the door hurriedly. Could tonight be any more embarrassing!?

Once getting inside, he slapped a hand against his forehead. "You moron!" he whispered to himself, awkwardly taking his pants off. He looked around the room as if to search that no one was in here. It was clean and tidy. Small, but clean. And, of course, it was shades of silver and green. It screamed Slytherin Pride.

Removing his undies, he took his wand from his pants pocket and gave them a quick Scourgify charm, watching the sticky, wet patches disappear from the insides of his pants and underwear.

Outside, Snape sat himself in the chair he'd been sitting in previously tonight, running a hand through his hair. He was glad that their magic was behaving since Harry had released himself, but he did feel rather awkward about the whole thing. Was it going to be like this all the time!? They couldn't be in the same room without touching one another? How the hell was he supposed to teach Potions when Harry was in his class?

He knew this had been a bad idea. He wanted Harry horribly, but at the cost of losing his job and Harry getting kicked out of school? He certainly didn't want that, but with the way their magic was acting, how was it possible to act normally?

At hearing the door open in the other room, he looked up, Harry still wearing a shade of pink on his cheeks as he awkwardly entered the lounge. "Better?"

Harry swallowed, feeling awkward as hell. "I'm r-really sorry, Professor," he started, Snape lifting a hand. He instantly fell silent.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Potter," he stated, leaning back in his seat. "Ancient Magic is very powerful, it could have happened to anyone in such a situation."

"You didn't," Harry said, sounding rather ashamed of himself.

Snape's expression went blank. "No, I did not, but I am older than you are, and I am more in control of my magic and body." Not by much by the way he felt, but even so.

Now Harry felt even more humiliated. He knew he'd never been great at controlling his magic, but this was beyond that! He'd just come inside his pants while being against Severus Snape.

"Should I just go?"

Severus just looked at the younger wizard. He was that humiliated? "Harry, I am not keeping you here, nor does your accident deter me from you. If you truly feel uncomfortable, then you may go, but I would still enjoy your company."

"You're not… mad at me or anything?" Harry asked. It would take a long time for him to get over this. He'd just completely embarrassed himself in front of Snape.

Snape's expression turned into a confused one, making him stand up. "Potter, why in the hell would I be mad at you for something completely natural to a wizard's body?" he asked rather sceptically.

"I dunno… I just thought…" Harry stopped, looking away and giving a sigh. He remembered when he was back in the Dursleys and had had an exciting dream. Aunt Petunia had scolded him for 'ruining the sheets' of his bed. She made a horrible deal out of it and it had been very embarrassing at his age. Dudley had, of course, told all of his school friends.

"I just thought that it would have made things awkward. I mean, this whole time we've been trying to fight these magical urges, and when we're close I can feel it just… taking control of me. Half of the time I don't even know where I am, and I can just feel you, or your magic, or whatever it is. It's so intense and I just… thought you'd be disappointed in me or grossed out by it."

Watching Harry curiously, Severus put his hands into his pockets. "Would it help if I told you that you are not the only wizard in the world to experience such a thing?"

"Sorry, but no," Harry mumbled, patting Fawkes to try and take his mind off his own humiliation. Suddenly, and almost ghost-like, Harry felt the warmth of Snape being behind him, a hand on his shoulder. He soon felt the man's hair against his own as he leant down.

"Would it help if I told you that I didn't mind it happening?" Though Snape's voice was as cool as ever, he was rather embarrassed over the whole thing. He was simply an adult, though. He knew things like this could happen. He'd been in love once, and Lily had made him crazy sometimes. Shy, but crazy.

Harry instantly blushed, feeling his heart pound. He swallowed, looking over his shoulder as Snape moved away and went across the room to pick up a goblet, taking a sip of whatever was inside it.

He watched him take a drink before gazing into the fire. It raised a lot of questions and excitement, but Harry had to know something. "Professor… does this mean that we have to… have sex?"

Snape instantly looked at the Gryffindor. "Who told you that?" As much as he liked Harry, he knew that was not going to happen any time soon! Even if ever! He wasn't exactly known for being a sexual deviant. In fact, he was quite content with never having it if it weren't for his damn magic forcing them. He may be a man, and desire would always be there, but he preferred his silence, his books and potions over human contact.

Not wanting to get Hermione in trouble, Harry didn't say a name. "Professor… I like you, and clearly my magic likes you, and it really wants you… but is that all this is about? What happens when we do it? Afterwards, will it all go away? We won't like each other, like some sort of animal? Is that all you want from me?"

Feeling himself get angry, Severus' hands clenched. "Potter, do you take me for some cold-hearted Slytherin that wants nothing but your body!? Is that honestly how you see me? That I will toss you aside once I've… defiled you?"

Harry swallowed, his lips parting as he was going to say something. He frowned, realising how badly that must have sounded, though. Maybe he should just shut up.

Snape nodded once. "I see…" he muttered sharply. "Well, now that you've had your release for the night, you can get out of my office."

Looking up, Harry's brows arched at the cold tone. "Professor…?"

"Yes, Potter, I am your professor, and clearly that is all we are meant to be. So you will have no trouble closing the door on your way out and getting your homework done before your next class, unless you want points taken from your House and to disappoint your little friends," the Slytherin hissed.

Harry's face twisted into anger. He was seriously going to be like this!? He didn't mean it in a bad way, he'd just been asking a question!

"Fine! I wouldn't want to be seen with a Slytherin anyway!" he yelled, storming towards the door and walking out, even if he was still embarrassed.

As the door slammed, Severus sat back down, giving an aggravated sigh. How dare Harry think that of him!? That all he wanted to do was fuck him and then toss him aside! He was well aware what his (and Harry's) magic was trying to make them do, but that did not mean he wanted that from Harry and then that was it.

Of course, part of him wanted to lay with the Gryffindor. He had feelings for him, didn't he? But that didn't mean he saw Harry as an object and nothing more! He'd tried to disregard of these stupid feelings for months now, and now that they finally started making something out of it, Potter has to say something stupid and selfish like that!? Making him out to be nothing but a violating snake!

He kicked the table with his boot, Fawkes flapping his wings at the disturbance. Fine, if Potter wanted to walk away then he could. If Potter wanted nothing more from him, then he'd give him nothing. This 'relationship' was as good as over. It was stupid in the first place! He knew he should have just ignored it from the start!

*****

Harry stormed back by himself in the corridors of Hogwarts. It was even darker now, but he didn't care. He felt horribly agitated and angry, and he just wanted to punch Snape in the face. Stupid moody Slytherin. They never said what they wanted! They always just kept things to themselves. How the hell was he supposed to read the man or know what he wanted when he never actually answered him up straight!? He wasn't a bloody mind-reader!

At least his mind was off the embarrassing moment that had happened earlier tonight. He didn't think he'd tell Ron and Hermione about that at all. It was horribly embarrassing, and Snape had explained that it was normal when the magic was so strong. Still made him feel awfully embarrassed, and now that things hadn't gone as planned, he was a bit paranoid Snape would laugh behind his back at his pre-ejaculation. God, what if he told other teachers? Snape was pretty vengeful…

As he reached the Gryffindor common room, he stepped in. It wasn't bed time, so students were still up and about, and he saw Ron and Hermione look up and him, heading across the room.

"Harry, you're back much earlier than I was thinking…" Hermione said, concern in her voice. "Is everything alright?"

At least the sight of his friends made him calm down a little, but Harry was still frustrated, and he probably would be for a while.

"I'm fine," he muttered, sitting himself down roughly on the chair.

Ron gave Hermione a worried glance. "Mate, you don't sound it. Did that git do something to hurt you!?" Instantly, Ron went into a rather protective stance, as if he was about to march down to the dungeons and start something.

Harry ran a hand down his face, trying to calm his thoughts. To be honest, he didn't even really know why Snape had gotten pissed off. He didn't do anything wrong! He just asked a question. Snape was the one who had taken it the wrong way. Not really his fault!

"Don't worry about it. Let's just say Snape and I won't ever be having any kind of date again," he mumbled.

Hermione couldn't see Snape doing anything out of line, but she was worried now. "Harry, please tell us what happened… He didn't try and… you know?"

"What!? No!" Harry yelled, even though they could have when their magic had gone haywire. But it didn't come to that, and Harry was more than thankful right now. He didn't even want to think about Snape right now!

"No, it was nothing like that, nothing happened. Just… I don't really want to talk about it, alright? I'm going to go to bed."

As Harry stood, both Ron and Hermione just watched, letting the boy head upstairs. The both of them said nothing more about it.

*****

The next few days, Harry and Snape hadn't spoken to one another since the night of their 'date'. Hermione was beginning to get very worried. Potions classes were what Ron called 'back to normal' with Snape being cruel towards the other Houses—particularly Gryffindor.

Harry hadn't said what had happened, but neither one of them wanted to ask. Ron was quite happy and said he didn't care as long as things were back to normal and Harry didn't like Snape. But Hermione knew something was up. And so after Potions had finished, she decided to stay back.

"Professor Snape?" she asked, approaching the man's desk. He didn't say anything, but she decided to talk anyway—as she was quite known for. "Sir, I wanted to ask about Harry."

Feeling his shoulders tense, Snape looked up to the girl with a signature glare. "What of Potter?"

"Well… I wanted to ask more about you two, actually," she said nervously.

Snape put his quill down, intertwining his hands onto the desk. "Miss Granger, I have little time for this, so what do you want?"

Getting straight to the point, Hermione said, "Look, I know something between you happened, and whatever it is, I'm sorry, but can't you look past it? You two were meant for one another. I know all about Ancient Magic-,"

"I don't think that's any of your concern, Miss Granger. Besides, I have no idea what you're even speaking of," Snape interrupted. "Students and teachers are not allowed to have relationships, and I would never wish to have one with Potter. You Gryffindors are much too difficult to make sense of."

Hermione frowned, but she didn't want to leave it at that. "I know Gryffindor's can wear their hearts on their sleeves, Professor… but maybe that's not such a bad thing. Harry still likes you, and I think you still like him."

When Snape didn't say anything and returned to his notes, Hermione got the hint and walked away from the desk, knowing that if she pushed him she'd get into a lot of trouble. She was surprised he didn't already get her into trouble.

Hearing the footsteps dwindle away, Snape gave a huff, leaning his chin onto his hand as he looked at his notes. He knew Harry still cared for him because his magic was still prickling every time he saw the damn Gryffindor. If his magic was still prickling it meant Potter's was, too. He wasn't stupid, he understood how it worked.

However, that didn't mean he was going to do anything about it. Potter had been the one to accuse him of just wanting sex out of him, and he did not take kindly to such a grotesque insult. As much as he hated to admit it, he had grown very strong feelings for Potter. And the fact that Harry had even thought that of him made him incredibly angry.

His reputation was bad enough as it was as the cold-hearted, bitter, dungeon bat Slytherin. He didn't need pervert on his fucking list. And he certainly didn't need it on his list just because of Potter!

The last few days hadn't been easy, and he knew they hadn't been easy for Harry either. He probably shouldn't have been so snappy, but the mere sight of the Gryffindor had made him angry in ways he didn't even understand.

A few nights ago, he was pressed against Harry's body, and nothing had ever felt as good as that. Did he want Potter? Of course he did. Harry had grown into an attractive man. But that didn't mean he just wanted to sleep with him. Merlin, Harry probably didn't even know he was a virgin. And if he did, he'd probably laugh at him or something and just…

Hearing noise from outside, he lifted his head. Oh, bloody hell, what now?

He stood up from his desk and walked out of the classroom, heading to the corridors to see a crowd of students yelling and cheering. In the middle of the circle, there was no other than Harry Potter and a younger, but bigger, Slytherin boy named Harley Wadlow.

Harry had blood on his lips, which only meant a fight had happened. And something in Severus' stomach boiled in anger at the sight of someone else hitting the Gryffindor.

"Wadlow! What the hell are you doing!?" he snapped, easily pushing his way through the students and ripping the boy's apart. The students around them seemed to disappear rather quickly as he broke up the fight.

Harley Wadlow was a round boy with a mean streak—he'd already seen that as soon as the boy had come into his House (just another one to ruin Slytherin's reputation). He was cunning, though, but cruel. He'd already been caught thieving things from the Slytherin House.

"He started it!" Wadlow yelled, though not having a scratch on him.

"That's a lie!" Ron yelled from the sideline—Hermione next to him. "That stupid Slytherin insulted Hermione, and you know exactly what he called her! Harry just stood up for her!" he called out.

Snape let his hand go from Wadlow's collar. "Get inside, and you've just lost your House five points, Wadlow. I will talk to you later in my office, is that clear? Insult Miss Granger again and I'll have you expelled and sent home before you can ever say that word again!"

Ron's eyes widened as he looked at Hermione in shock that Snape had actually yelled at one of his own House students. Harry, on the other hand, wiped down his busted lip and averted his eyes.

"Who started it?" Snape demanded, looking at all three of them.

When both Ron and Hermione looked at him, Harry looked at Snape. "I just said don't call her that," he said, though looking away once more.

"Then the git insulted Harry about his parents!" Ron added in, Snape giving him a quick look. He fell silent instantly, eyes going down.

"Potter, come with me, you'll need something for that cut. The rest of you, get to your next classes before I deduct points from each and every one of you." The students instantly began fleeing like cockroaches.

Harry, with his head down, followed Snape back into his classroom. Although angry, he was even more angry that he had to follow Snape into his class again. He didn't need the man's help, even if his lip was sore and dripping blood.

"Sit," ordered Snape, pushing Potter down into a chair and walking over to one of the cabinets. He grabbed out a small phial and walked back.

Taking Harry's chin into his hand, he examined the cut, Harry's eyes averting his at all costs. "Why didn't you fight back?"

Looking to the Potions master, Harry's brows furrowed in question. "Why does it matter?"

Snape frowned. "If your father knew you weren't standing up for yourself, he'd be very disappointed," he said quite knowingly.

"Yeah, I'm sure he had a blast sticking up for himself when you were making potions to poison him."

Snape stood up straight. "Someone had to give him a taste of his own medicine."

"You think that's going to make me feel better!?" Harry yelled, standing up from the seat he'd been shoved into. "You're just like every other Slytherin! No wonder your House is so nasty, they all learn it from you!"

Turning to walk out, he was pulled back from the collar of his shirt, being spun around.

"You have no idea what nasty can be, Potter!" Snape hissed vehemently. "So you get into a spat with a stupid boy, at least you can run home to your little Gryffindor friends! It's no wonder Slytherins are so bitter, because every waking hour they have to watch you Gryffindor's wearing your pathetic little hearts on your sleeves! Have some self-respect!"

"Well at least we know what we're feeling! Unlike you! All you do is hide it all inside so no one even knows what you're thinking and feeling! I'm not a mind-reader, you know!" Harry retorted, moving away from the hand and brushing his collar back down.

"Gryffindor's don't care for Slytherin's, so don't even act like you'd be the least bit interested in what one is feeling," sneered Snape. "You've made that quite apparent over the years."

Harry's eyes grew angry. "Maybe if you didn't go around calling everyone a Mudblood, people would have respect for you!"

Snape stiffened, looking at Harry for a moment in utter silence. He put the phial onto the table with a clang before pushing past him, walking out of the dungeons, his robes following.

Harry watched as the man left, feeling hard guilt hit his stomach. He looked down at the phial that had been gotten for him, and he knew whatever it was it would have healed his cut. Snape had actually stood up for him, told off the Slytherin boy, and here he was, insulting him and making him relive bad memories of his past. He felt horrible now.

Picking up the phial, he put it into his pocket and walked out of the classroom, searching down the corridors. Ron and Hermione were still outside, and he made his way over to them.

"Harry, what happened?" asked the girl.

"Did you see where Snape went?"

Ron arched a brow. "He went that way," he said, pointing towards Hagrid's hut. "Why?"

"I'll tell you later," said the boy, racing towards Hagrid's hut. In the distance, he could see Snape's robes (bloody hell he moved fast!), and he chased after him, yelling out "Professor!"

Hearing the voice, Snape didn't turn, he just continued walking. He had no time for whatever the hell Harry wanted now.

"Professor, please! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that!" he panted, finally reaching the man. He grabbed his arm so he would stop, but Snape just tugged it back to himself.

"I'm sorry…" Harry said, looking up. "I don't want it to be like this. I don't want to hate you, Professor… I'm sorry I acted so stupidly… I'm sorry I thought that you might just want… that from me. I was just confused, and I didn't know, and…" He frowned, looking down. "I'm sorry…" he repeated. "Please don't hate me."

Severus just looked at the boy for a moment. The silence was strong, and he was still pissed off, but he was a grown man. Something did satisfy him to know that Harry was willing to apologise to him, though.

"I don't hate you, Potter. It might come to a surprise to you, but Slytherin's do happen to have feeling, too. You Gryffindor's aren't the only ones who suffer them," he muttered jadedly.

Looking up, Harry smirked a little, pulling out the phial from his pocket. "I was wondering if you could help me with this?"

Snape eyed the phial in Harry's palm, taking it into his own hand. "Show me your lip," he ordered, Harry moving closer to him. He undid the phial and put a few drops onto the boy's split and swollen lip. Within a few seconds, it was back down to normal.

He then put the phial back into Harry's hand. "You may keep it. I have a feeling you enjoy getting yourself roughened up…"

"I hardly call it enjoying, Professor," Harry laughed, thankful that his swollen lip was down now.

"Why didn't you stand up for yourself?"

Harry looked up, wondering why it meant so much, but instead of snapping back, he answered truthfully, "I don't like fighting."

"That hardly means you can't stand up for yourself," Snape scoffed. "You know you are magically stronger than most of the students here, and even some of the professors. You were more than capable of at least disarming an orb like Harley Wadlow."

"I know I'm strong enough… but that doesn't mean I think it's right," Harry explained. "I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of war. I just want to live a peaceful life. Is that so much to ask for?"

Snape watched Potter carefully before letting his hands go by his side, the wind blowing through his robes. "I thought you, of all people, would have realised that life is one big battle. No matter who you are, or what you've done, there will always be someone ready to attack you. And do you really wish to go down from a boy like Wadlow? For Merlin's sake, Potter, have some dignity!"

Looking at the older man, Harry had a feeling this was more personal than it looked from an outsider's point of view. "Why does it matter to you so much that I stand up for myself?"

"As much as it may pain you to hear so, Potter, I do not enjoy seeing you defenceless on the ground when you know exactly how to defend yourself. It is basic instinct. You can stand up to a crowd of Death Eaters and sacrifice your own life to defeat the Dark Lord, but you cannot stand up for yourself in the schoolyard? I hardly understand you at all, Potter, but now you're making it even more difficult."

"Wadlow may be a jerk, Professor, but he's still just a kid," Harry said. "I'm not like you. I don't get revenge out of it, okay?"

Snape resented that. He did not get revenge out of everything! Just those he thought deserved it. In fact, he detested seeing when students were in peril. There was nothing more important to him than the safety of the children here at Hogwarts—even if most people thought that was the last thing on his mind. Not to mention it pissed him off to see weaker kids being picked on. It caused horrible nostalgia for himself.

"He's just a stupid kid, and hardly worth getting expelled over if I end up cursing him. Besides… I'm afraid that if I fight back, I won't be able to stop it…" Harry confessed, his eyes lowering.

"I know I'm a powerful wizard, but I know when I get angry, I can do bad things. It's what I feared with Voldemort, why I didn't want to be in Slytherin," he said. "I was afraid I was too much like him, and I don't ever want that to happen."

Severus found himself frowning at the thought of Harry thinking that he could be that dangerous and cruel. Potter didn't have it in him to be cruel. Even when he was connected to the Dark Lord, Harry had always had something that the Dark Lord hadn't. He'd loved. He'd had the power of his friends beside him, his loyalty to Dumbledore and most of all, he knew what love was. Even without knowing his parents, he still loved them dearly. More than the Dark Lord ever knew. Or ever could know.

"Potter, the Dark Lord is gone," Snape stated, "And even if he were still alive, I thought the last eight years would have been proof enough that that would never happen."

"I could have killed Malfoy in those bathrooms, Professor. You saw what I did to him."

"In not knowing what such a spell could cause," said the Potions master. "Thoughtless of you, yes, but I would hardly say it was your intention if you knew what such a spell would do."

Harry looked up, watching Snape carefully. "But you knew what it would do… How could you make something like that? How could you actually try and hit someone with that, knowing what it would do to them?"

"My very intentions were for them to suffer, Potter," Snape said a-matter-of-factly. "I was younger than you when I invented the spell, and I've already told you that I wasn't a very nice child. It was a means of protection, really. I had to defend myself from your father's antics."

But comparing the two of them, he knew he was not a nice person. He was cruel and sought vengeance on anyone who had ever made him suffer. How Potter had ever grown feelings for him was a mystery to him.

"Right…" Harry muttered. "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what, Potter?"

"Killing," said Harry, looking up to the man's eyes. Snape seemed surprised, and that only made Harry question even more. Snape had been a Death Eater for three years before Voldemort had fallen, and three years was a long time. Who knew how many deaths the man had been responsible for. And to think, he'd fallen for a murderer—even if it was in his past.

"Potter, I don't think this is quite the place for a conversation such as this," said Severus.

"Just tell me, please!" Harry said, this time desperation clear in his voice. "Please tell me that you regret it! I need to know…"

"I have nothing to regret," Snape said, Harry's eyes looking at him in horror. "Potter, I never committed murder before Dumbledore's death. Even as a Death Eater. I was nothing but a spy as I was good at keeping myself hidden—no thanks to your father. I could aid the Dark Lord in spells and potions, which is how I gained such a trustworthy position. I could sit and watch as others suffered under his hand, but I never, from my own wand, committed murder. I have nothing to regret," he repeated.

Harry swallowed, feeling his heart beat hard under his ribcage. He was thankful to hear that Snape had never murdered before, but he still felt awful at the fact that he knew Snape had done some terrible things in his younger years.

He remembered the Pensieve and the conversation that had happened between Snape and Dumbledore, planning the assisted suicide. And he remembered what Snape had said about his own soul. Dumbledore had never asked when the last time Snape had murdered was, but only the last time he had witnessed it. It somewhat reassured Harry right now that Snape was being honest with him.

"I'm sorry…" he murmured gently, looking back up. "I shouldn't have assumed that you had committed something like that. I just… I want to know who the person I like is. I want to get to know you, but… I'm afraid I might not like you when I know what you've done."

A reasonable request, Snape figured. Harry was rather innocent, and they were far from being the same on that spectrum. He didn't like discussing his past with anyone, not even Dumbledore, but Harry was right. There was no point in them giving into their magic if they truly didn't like one another. Their magic obviously thought they were suited, but so far it had proven to be nothing but complication after complication.

This particular magic usually meant the two parties did like one another before they even knew it—which was why their magic connected, a subtle hint to realise their feelings and accept them. So far, though… Snape was questioning if this magic was faulty.

Maybe it was time for things to finally be exposed.