Lavender Brown had made seven correct readings in as many weeks. Since the beginning of seventh year, she had divined that seven unlikely things would happen, and Harry was astounded. More than astounded...he was somewhat curious. He had to know who won. Perhaps, since Trelawny couldn't tell, Lavender could? And so he was gathering up the courage to ask her.
The only problems were Ron and Hermione. Hermione who had the same opinion as Dumbledore, that it was an impossible subject and shouldn't be taught, and Ron who agreed with Harry constantly that anyone who said they had the gift was an old fraud, would certainly not agree with Harry asking for Lavender's opinion.
Fortunately for Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the current state of having fervid romps whenever they could, which left him plenty of time on his own. Lavender was currently alone, packing up her tarot cards lovingly. Harry tentatively approached her, swallowing as he did so.
"Lavender...I was, uh, wondering if you could read my fortune?"
Harry couldn't help but notice Lavender's eyes lighting up as she looked up to him, and the flush that fled across her features. "Maybe we should go to a quieter room?"
Oh... Harry flushed too and then nodded. He hadn't told anyone he was gay, and girls kept coming on to him. Not that he minded, but he hated to say no to them when they got too close. Not that he knew he was gay in the way that he had tested it. He'd never kissed a boy, and he had kissed a girl -- once -- and sworn that summer not to do it ever again. It had been too confusing. He wanted someone to teach him, and he knew a girl couldn't do that. Not for him, the Boy Who Lived.
But Lavender was obviously one of his many admirers. He was Harry Potter after al. So he let her up to the seventh year boy's dormitory and motioned to his bed quietly.
Lavender, who looked like a scared animal for a few moments, blushed again and sat on the edge of the bed, carefully setting her tarot deck in her hand and tapping it with her wand to shuffle it randomly. She then said, very softly "Prince of Staves," and the card slid out onto the bed, falling face up.
"This is you. I'm sure you understand the need for a representitive card, Harry." Noticing the confused look on Harry's face Lavender sighed and explained. "The Prince of Staves, even though he doesn't look like you, Harry, represents a boy who is capable of speaking with fervour and power when required to, but isn't always capable of fulfilling that power by himself. But he is capable of gathering help and sparking people to work with his word alone."
Harry blushed again and Lavender splayed her deck evenly over the bed. "I want you to choose a past card, Harry. Put it face down on the bed to my left, then choose a present and a future card, and do the same, towards my right."
Harry leant forwards slowly and slid one card from the deck of cards, pulling it to Lavender's left knee, then taking another and another, lining them up in a row. Finally he leant back, and Lavender easily moved her hand to turn the cards over, speaking the name of the card as she did so. "Past: Oppression, reversed. Present: Queen of Cups, reversed. Future: Love."
Harry shivered at the implication of that and wallowed, leaning back against his pillows slightly. "Go on."
Lavender seemed to contemplate for several minutes, examining the pictures on the cards, holding her hand on it. When Harry was finally beginning to get a little spooked and opened his mouth to ask her to leave, she spoke, her voice detached. "Your past was oppressive. You were overwhelmed and used, unknowing of what magic was at work to free you from your pain." Harry nodded softly, but Lavender didn't stop talking.
"Your present is lamentable. Instead of being overwhelmed by circumstance, you are now overwhelmed by emotion. You need to sort out your heart, take control of yourself and step into the future of love, a new relationship. This person, whoever they are, will help focus and guide your emotion, until you are hopelessly devoted to your lover, and they to you. You both are similar in past and present...and he is..."
She tapped her wand against the cards, which restacked. "Noble cards." A group of cards slid from the stack, and Lavender lifted them and offered them to Harry. "Pick another."
Obediently, Harry leant forwards to take another card from the stack, leaving it face down on the bed. Lavender leant forwards and posed her hand over it. "This is a representitive of your lover, Harry. It's gender is definitite." Harry blushed and Lavender smiled sadly, and then turned the card over, revealing Harry's life sentence.
"The King of Swords."
"That's right, Harry." Lavender said, confusing Harry for a moment until he realised he'd spoken. "The King of Swords. your lover will be male."
Harry could feel his skin prickling with the blush. "The King of Swords is a wise and powerful man, at home with his intellect and capable of bringing clarity with his words alone. An older man, he does not sugar coat his words and instead drives straight to the point. He is particular clever in everything, and is a little insecure, covering up his intelligence with demeritting points."
Lavender promptly left, leaving Harry sat alone on his bed, staring at the space on the bed where the King of Swords card had rested. There was only one wise and powerful older man he knew who didn't sugar coat his words. He fell back on his bed slowly and pulled a pillow up over his eyes, closing them underneath.
He was going to fall in love with Severus Snape.
x - x - x - x
"What is you problem, Mr. Potter?"
Harry was aware he hadn't moved since the start of class, but he was still incapable of doing more than watching Snape, staring, voiceless. His friends had been speaking to him, very worried, and Harry had just been staring at Snape in shock. He was meant to fall in love with that? With the man he hated more than even Voldemort?
"Potter, if you don't reply, I will make your life very uncomfortable."
"And how do you expect to make my life more uncomfortable than it already is, Professor?" He barely realised he'd talked, and he blushed when Snape went white with fury.
"I have my ways, Potter, like thirty points from Gryffindor house and a detention every day for a fortnight, much as I hate wasting my time in your presence. You never learn."
Harry didn't say a word, he wasn't sure whether he had actually wanted detention with Snape or not, and that thought alone terrified him. He couldn't wait to go to detention?
Hermione leant towards him as Snape began to move away again and whispered softly "King of Swords?" And Harry winced and regretted not telling Lavender to keep it quiet. Snape, curiously enough stopped in midstep and peered at the two of them suspiciously, and Harry sank back in his seat. Snape simply smirked, slowly, and began back towards his desk.
Harry was relieved to get out of class. He had time to relax and think throughout the rest of the day, even with the ocassional jeering he was subjected too. It seemed like the whole school knew every part of his reading. Unfortunately, this also meant that so did the faculty, and he had detention with Snape tonight.
He was definitely in for it. He pondered running away, or even killing himself. Anything would be better than going to detention. Unfortunately, Snape was waiting for him at the doorway. Ron hadn't talked to him all day, and Hermione had been trying to make Ron look less sickly. No doubt the thought of Snape and Harry had him in as much of a fit as it did Harry. Luna
however, Harry had heard from both Ginny and Neville, was taking bets as to which day the two of them would screw. Ginny, after seeing the look on Harry's face at the knowledge, returned to Luna, reminding her that Snape couldn't screw Harry, because he was a teacher and Harry was a student. Luna replied that it was scandelous and love was love, besides, you couldn't go against prophecy.
This had Harry anything if not more afraid. He was so a lost cause. He had one option... He had to piss Snape off.
Shivering he came to his feet, staring at Snape who motioned for him to follow. Knowing eyes were on him, Harry hurried out of the hall and stopped when he collided with Snape. Well 'collided' was the wrong description, as he was held off in two strong hands instead.
"Hello, Prince of Staves." Well, there goes that idea. He barely noticed that the hands were suddenly gripping him, stopping him from backing off at all. He thought about struggling then gave up on the idea. What do you do when your Potions Professor finds out that you're preordained to be in a meaningful relationship together? Did they sell books about that kind of thing? Harry doubted it.
But now Snape was leant against him, breathing down onto his face in a way that made Harry flush, an eyebrow raised quizzically, and Harry realised that the greasy git wanted an answer.
He mumbled it as he turned his eyes away, but that meant he had to look at Snape's chest, and he stared at the intricate snake patterns on the black buttons entranced. "Hello, King of Swords."
"Ah...and as your King, and you only a Prince, I will require you to behave appropriately. For a start, Potter, you will bow to me when you are in my presence, and you will not rise unless I inform you to do so."
Harry growled softly as he was pushed roughly back and gawped at Snape. "You can't be serious..."
"I am dead serious, Prince. Bow."
With a last biting look, Harry bent over, his arm at his middle like a pivot. He was stood there for a long time, the blood rushing to his head, mostly to fuel the blush on his face, and finally Snape told him to rest at ease, and he straightened up.
Too quickly it seemed. He felt the blood running out and then the floor was coming rushing towards him, everything pitch black even before he hit it.
x - x - x - x
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
Harry gradually opened his eyes, unfortunately, it was no less lighter in the room than when he'd had his eyes closed. Now of course there was a slightly darker figure appearing in the black, and gradually the deep black of the room returning to the dark greyish colour, tinted with the slight yellow of very little sunlight that Harry was much more used to. He was in the dungeons. Brilliant.
"It's okay, Potter, you haven't quite slept out detention."
Harry was distinctly aware of a cinnamon taste in his mouth. He knew what that was. He glared at Snape. "Would you mind not forcing potions down my throat in my sleep?"
"I hardly had to force it, Potter, you were out cold."
Harry ground his teeth slightly and slowly pulled himself upright. "Greasy git."
"Spoilt brat."
Harry blinked a couple of times and levelled a glare on a smirking Snape, then quickly turned his eyes away before he could laugh.
"It appears I win." Snape continued, and he gradually stood up. "Allright, Potter. I want all of my ingredients shelved in alphabetical order. Chop chop."
With one more quick glance at his Professor, Harry slid to the shelves and began sorting them. Not a word was spoken for the rest of the evening, and Harry returned to the dormitories just before ten thirty, yawning, his eyes unfocused from looking at tiny, scribbly script in the dark back room.
"So how did it go?"
Harry couldn't help but glare at his best friend and stalked over to the bed, looking slightly more irritated than he intended to.
"Well?" The voice was persistent, even after he yanked is curtains shut.
"It was a detention, Ron."
"Oh, well, if you say so." Ron sounded put out and relieved at the same time, and Harry couldn't help but smile as he stripped to go to sleep. What a day...
x - x - x - x
The following day could have been better. Harry woke late from a strange dream in which Snape kept serving him cups of tea every five seconds, except it wasn't tea, only water, and the teaset was plastic. At the same time the sky was a horrid shade of pink, and Voldemort and Hermione were sitting with them talking about the joys of dentistry. It was all very confusing.
He made his way to breakfast, at which he was stared at for the entirety of the meal not only by members of his own house, but every other one too. They all seemed to want to know what had happened between he and Snape, even some of the teachers seemed interested, and Dumbledore was peering at Snape curiously over the top of his glass.
Harry tutted softly. Trust Dumbledore not to care about rules. He probably had a bet on them too. Hell, it was probably he who would tell everyone when.
When?! Was he seriously thinking this would happen?!
He slid his hands into his hair and pulled his head down onto the table with a groan.
"Long night, Potter?"
Malfoy, just what he needed.
"For your information, Malfoy. Yes."
"Oh?"
Harry smirked. "Yeah. I had to do detention and then homework. Are you joining Gryffindor on a permanent basis, Malfoy?"
Draco sneered and stormed away, a flurry of robes. Harry returned happily to his breakfast after that.
Lessons passed relatively as normal, with Ron and Hermione carefully avoiding the topic, and Harry arrived at detention again feeling a lot more comfortable. Snape, however, never forgot.
"Bow?"
Harry stared at Snape like he was mad for a few moments and then suddenly tipped forwards. "That'll do." With a sigh of relief he straightened up and stepped forwards slowly.
Snape motioned for him to take a seat on the other side of the desk. "You know, Mr. Potter. I was curious as to why you'd ask for a reading."
Harry ground his teeth as he sat down, glaring at Snape. He didn't reply.
"Well, Mr. Potter?"
"I. Thought. I. Was. Going. To. Die." Harry spoke out, very slowly.
Snape looked amused. "And for the first time the boy wonder actually fears for his own life."
"How do you do that?"
Snape turned his eyes back to Harry slowly, staring as though Harry was something he had just burnt that had repieced itself together from the ashes. "Do what, Mr. Potter?"
Harry took a moment to regather his courage. "How do you turn everything I say into an insult?"
"It's not difficult, Potter, when everything you say is barely more than a series of grunts and growls."
"Bastard."
"My parents were happily married, thank you very much."
"That's not what I saw."
Harry swore he could actually see Snape's shackles rise, a sudden tightness across the man's shoulders that stretched his robes taught, a clenching of his jaw that forced his cheek bones out and pulled the skin out across his face, the way his fingers curled in towards his palm as he gradually paled even more. Harry fell over in his attempt to get out of his chair. Snape was already out of his seat by the time Harry got back to his feet, and he grabbed Harry's tie and yanked him up by it, almost suffocating him.
"You. Saw. Nothing. Do you understand?"
"Yes..." Harry gasped, and Snape dropped him to the ground and returned to his seat.
"You're washing the floor today, Potter. Go to it."
Two and a half long hours later, Harry returned to his dormitory exhausted and grubby. Noone questioned him as he took a shower and slipped off to bed.
x - x - x - x
The next day was awful. Harry spent the whole day getting on the wrong side of teachers who were usually nice to him. To make it worse his last period was double potions. Double the Snape fun.
Harry almost decided not to go. So he almost arrived late. He caught the door just before it shut behind the last person and swept in, taking his usual seat and glancing around quickly to gather people's reactions. Draco was glaring at him furiously, and Harry sneered at him momentarilly before he looked away. Snape came in five minutes late, as usual, stopping in front
of his chest and whirling around. "The directions are on the board. It says you should have started as soon as you arrive, does it not?"
The class was a rush to get started after that, even for Harry, who was adament not to make the same mistake again.
Snape, unfortunately, didn't think he was quite up to leaving Harry alone yet. He slid over to the desk where the four Gryffindors were sitting, with a wary look at Neville and coughed loudly. Carefully, Harry examined the mouse bladders that he was expertly splicing and looked back up to Snape.
"Something wrong, Sir?"
"Yes, Potter. What haven't you done?"
Harry went back over the ingredients of the potion quietly, but could see nothing that he had done wrong. He looked back up to Snape and found he'd lost his voice when he tried to utter 'what?'.
Thankfully Snape understood anyway. "What is your correct greeting of me, Potter?"
Harry swallowed and took the moment to glare up at Snape, who narrowed his eyes warningly. Quickly Harry slid off his stool and bowed forwards, almost low enough to be able to smell the foul mouse bladders. There was laughing from the Slytherin side, and a tangeable silence from the Gryffindor side. This was so embarassing. Damn Snape.
Harry waited. Snape didn't move. His potion was boiling over in the want for another ingredient. It spread slowly across his desk and he bit his lip as Snape continued to stand there, watching him with no doubt a sincerely amused expression on his face. Harry could hear the potion hit the floor. And finally he was released, and he sat up sharply to glare at the destroyed potion.
Before Snape could destroy it, he turned off the heat and cast 'Scorgio' on the potion. He slid to his feet and left the classroom after that, since it was obvious he wasn't going to learn anything in the remainder of the lesson. Such displays had been gradually wearing on his nerves, and now he didn't care if he got detention, he wasn't going to class.
He didn't leave the Gryffindor tower for the rest of the day. He sat on his bed sulking all through dinner, and when detention time came, he didn't rise to go and find Snape. The Potions master was particularly livid looking when he charged into the seventh year boy's dormitory, and Harry scrambled to get off his bed and escape the furious black cloaked spectre.
Snape however grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back against one of the posts of his bed, pinning him there and glaring icily at him. "Nobody leaves my lessons! Do you understand? Nobody misses detention either. Nobody! Not even you, Potter! Not even you."
Harry swallowed and glared up at Snape. "I'm already failing Potions without your help, Professor. You would have only made me sit there doing nothing for the rest of the class, so I thought it'd be more productive coming to do my homework instead."
A sharp slap rang in his ears as Harry tumbled to the ground. His face hurt and his glasses had skitted off somewhere. Had Snape...hit him...? He reached up to touch his cheek and glared up at the bleary black figure that was definitely the Potions master.
"I'll see you for class tomorrow morning and detention tomorrow evening. Goodnight, Mr. Potter." And Snape had stormed away, just like that, leaving Harry to rub his cheek and wander back to bed, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened.
x - x - x - x
Potions. As if anything could be worse. Harry tramped into class swiftly, slumping into his seat and examining the board hawkily, only to find nothing written on it. Snape arrived moments later in his usual fluster, and Harry swiftly rose to his feet and bowed, which gathered the laughter again, but this time from all of the class, except for Harry's closest friends.
"You may rise, Mr. Potter." Harry lifted his head quietly and glared at Snape, but didn't sit down. Snape motioned towards his seat moments later and Harry sat down quietly. Sure, it was embarassing, but Snape seemed to calm down very slightly after that.
In fact, Harry successfully managed to create his potion this time. Snape didn't interrupt him, didn't glare at him, didn't take uneccessary points from his house, didn't sabotage his potion, ruin his life or even tell him
he was worthless. In fact, it was almost as if the lesson had been taught by a completely different teacher.
It didn't really connect with the way he'd been treated yesterday, but Harry was committed to taking anything he got, and Snape had given him time. Harry was particularly thankful. When he handed in his potion, Snape actually thanked him and reminded him of their detention tonight. Harry nodded and slipped out of class with a mere glance to a wide eyed Ron and Hermione.
x - x - x - x
When he followed Snape out of the hall after dinner that evening, he was concerned to hear wolf whistles coming his way from Malfoy. Apparently he'd joined in with the bets, and wanted them together before the weekend. He shook his head quietly and blushed at the "Go get him!" that was shouted after him as he turned the corner out of the hall.
Snape quirked an eyebrow at him and slid into step beside him. "'Go get him', Mr. Potter? I assume that was a Gryffindor?"
Harry didn't even dare to look up at Snape. "I'm quite sure it was a Slytherin actually. Malfoy's made a bet that we're together before the weekend."
Snape's voice was full of concern, "That doesn't sound like Mr. Malfoy. Are you sure he's quite sane?"
"As sane as a Slytherin can be," Harry joked, and Snape tapped him gently on the back of the head with his hand.
"Don't insult Slytherins in their presence. It's not good for your health."
"Aw...and I was hoping to call Voldemort an ugly, snakefaced git to his face, too."
Snape shook his head, and Harry could swear he saw a smile on his lips before it was carefully concealed. "Lines today then, Potter. I will not cheek Professor Snape. Go to it, then." He pushed open the door of the dungeons and motioned Harry through it.
"Er...Professor." Harry said, as he slid towards his usual desk. "I don't have my writing materials. I kind of expected having to dust or something."
Snape raised an eyebrow and gathered a few things, sliding over to the desk quietly and handing him quill, parchment and an inkwell. It was a beautiful set, and Harry couldn't help but gasp. The quill was the feather of a bird Harry didn't know, rich and with a sheen of green in the slight light, though it appeared black otherwise. The parchment was the finest Harry had
ever written on, it felt smooth under his fingertips. The inkwell was hand carved and Harry could feel a tingle of magic over it. It was probably charmed never to tip over. The ink inside was red, as Harry had expected. He dipped his quill into it and the ink immediately slid into the quill as though drawn into the shaft magically. Harry looked up at Snape as though for permission, only to be greeted with that amused expression again, and Harry lowered the nib of the quill to etch out the first line neatly on the parchment. 'I will not cheek Professor Snape."
When Harry looked back up, Snape had gone back to marking his work with an equally beautiful silver quill, and Harry began to etch out the lines with care, surprised at how easy it was to write with this quill. Harry swallowed when he made a mistake and lifted his eyes. "Professor, do you have any ink erasers?"
Snape almost laughed. "Those things that make a general mess of every student's work? No, I don't have them. Turn the quill over and run the top of the feather over the messed up line."
Harry nodded quietly and did what Snape had told him to do. The word disappeared and Harry looked up at Snape quickly. "That's just...where did you get this quill? It's fantastic!"
Snape's lips quirked slightly. "Quills are just like broomsticks, Mr. Potter. If you spent as much time picking out your quill as pining over the latest broom, you would no doubt have found out that fact.
Harry blushed and Snape continued to peer at him, almost thoughtfully. "You can keep that one, if you like."
In his surprise, Harry actually fell off his stool. When he righted himself he stared at Snape in disbelief. "What's wrong with you? Polyjuice? Imperius?"
Snape folded his arms over his chest and peered at Harry. "Do you think I am incapable of niceties, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes," Harry replied without a second's thought.
Snape snorted loudly and turned back to his work. "Don't accept it, if you want to, but it's yours if you take it."
Swallowing Harry corrected his stool and went back to his lines, with occassional glances back up to a very smug looking Snape.
x - x - x - x
Harry returned to the dormitory with the quill gently held in his hands, turning it over to examine it from every direction. There wasn't a break in the whole thing, and it curved very slightly towards the tip, making it look far more sleek.
Hermione noticed the quill as soon as he got into the dormitory and immediately seized it off him, examining it thoroughly. After several moments, and finally realising Harry was standing there, Hermione returned it. "Harry, it's...beautiful. It really is. Where did you get it?"
Harry didn't respond to her question straight away, instead he shuffled his feet. By this time, several other people had arrived to see what Hermione was so enamoured by. "...Snape gave it to me."
Hermione carefully returned the feather to Harry's grip and smiled. "You ought to give him a gift in return,"she confided, and Harry shuffled his feet slightly.
"What kind of gift do you give your most despised teacher?" There was no hate in the phrase, no denial, just confusion, and Hermione smiled reassuringly.
"What does he like?"
"Potions."
"Well I know that..." Hermione said quietly.
"He likes Slytherin things. He uh..."
"How about jewellery?"
Harry glared at Hermione. "Jewellery? For a man?"
Hermione smiled. "Shows how much you notice. Snape wears an alchemy ring on the index finger on his right hand."
Harry didn't retreat his glare. "Not only do you know he wears jewellery, you know where he wears jewellery..."
"So...?"
"So you're insane! You'd think you were the one with a crush on him!"
Seamus chose this moment to speak up, staring quite firmly at Harry. "You have a crush on Snape?"
Harry gaped, realising what he'd said. "No! No I don't! It was a slip of the tongue!"
"Liar." Dean piped in, smirking.
Harry shifted his gape back into a withering glare and napped his attention back to Hermione. "What do you suggest then?"
"Well this weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend. Maybe you could find him something there."
Harry nodded quietly and thanked Hermione. "Okay then. Thanks. I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I have homework to catch up on." He sent one last sharp glare towards the rest of the group, then slid upstairs to get on with his transfiguration homework.
Seamus and Dean, however, weren't ready to leave him at that. Joined by Ron and Neville, they came up the stairs to bug him almost straight away.
"So Snape gave you a gift then, Harry?" "Do you really have a crush on Professor Snape?" "Harry you sly fox." "Harry! What do you think you're doing?!"
Harry sighed and pulled the curtains about his bed, curling up to do his homework and trying to ignore the frenzied conversation going on outside of his curtains.
x - x - x - x
The next day was hell. News of his crush on Snape had spread, despite his denial, and Malfoy had made kissy faces at him at every meal time. Some of the people at the Gryffindor table had even suggested he go and kiss Malfoy, because it would be a damn sight less terrifying than kissing Snape.
Thankfully, there was no Potions class that day, and detention went almost normally. Harry cleaned desks with a scouring potion, while Snape sat back and marked papers.
The silence was interupted only towards the end. Snape was staring musingly at Harry, and Harry turned to look at him quietly, blushing almost immediately.
"I won't see you until Monday," Snape explained.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Harry asked quietly.
Snape smiled sadly. "I suppose it is."
There were no more words except a muted goobye after that, and Harry couldn't help but desire to get back on to speaking terms with Snape.
x - x - x - x
Hogsmeade mornings always started with a flurry of conversation about where people were planning to go to. Harry was not only subjected to those conversations, he was the focus of them, for one particular group of Gryffindors. The boy couldn't get any peace at all. He was followed from one shop to another by a constant group of sixth years who irritatingly kept pointing out things they liked, but never once could help Harry by suggesting a gift for Snape.
It was only after popping into Madam Rosmerta's for a drink that he managed to lose the mob, and he immediately slipped back towards the Hogs Head after swallowing down his drink. Beside the musty looking old public house was a equally rickety looking old shop with the name "Magical Antiquities." Harry thought this was the perfect place, and slipped inside unnoticed.
The shop seemed bigger on the inside. Furniture and shelves stretched out, clad in every direction. Harry slid straight towards one of the multidious jewellery sections, where old jewellery lay in a mish mash order, tagged with prices in a scrawled, barely legible script.
Harry was barely aware of the shopkeepers presence, but the man drifted up behind him none the less. "And what would the young master be looking for?"
Harry suddenly realised he wasn't sure what he was looking for, so he said so, quietly. "I'm not sure. A gift, for a...friend. I want to give him something Slytherin..."
The shopkeeper mused over this for a few moments, then beckoned Harry towards the back of the shop. Following quietly, Harry was careful not to let his eyes drop from the dusty looking man. The man pulled out a tray from underneath his desk, the top of which was covered with velvet. He drew back the top layer to reveal some of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery Harry had ever seen. But one piece stood out in particular, from the rich obsidian, turn green of the centre stone, to the silver, almost mercurial appearance of the bracing metal itself. It was a cufflink, Harry could tell, and it was incredibly beautiful. He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers over it quietly, surprised at the buzz of magical energy that brust from the stone into his fingertips.
"It's one of a pair..." the shopkeeper said, quietly, and he withdrew another from a little box, setting it beside the first. The second stone was a rich crimson that turned gold if you tilted your head. They were perfect.
"How much...?" Harry whispered softly.
"Eighteen galleons for the both of them."
Harry nodded quietly. "They...feel like magic. What charms are on them...?"
The shopkeeper paused to think and then nodded. "They extend the life of the person, and contain charms in prosperity and love. But they only activate if the two people who wear them care for each other."
Harry looked up to the shopkeeper dizzily then smiled, a charming, but exhausted smile. "I'll take them, then. Thank you."
Despite thinking they'd be worthless if nothing happened between them, Harry still knew that they were incredibly beautiful, and he'd be proud to wear his if he knew Snape was wearing the other. So he paid for them and slipped off to join his friends.
"What'd you get?" Ron asked earlier, but Harry wasn't telling. He just smiled wistfully and patted his pocket.
x - x - x - x
Sunday, Harry had recently decided, was the most annoying day ever. It was the day between Saturday and Monday, and it meant that Harry had the entire day to wonder how he was going to give his gift to Snape. It wasn't a pleasant prospect, Harry decided. The last thing he wanted was to embarass himself in front of the whole school. He had to choose a private time, and that meant at detention.
With a sigh, Harry slid out of bed and picked up his broom, slipping out for some calming flying.
x - x - x - x
Monday morning brought yet another Potions lesson. Harry slid into class earlier than usual, smiling broadly at Snape before bowing. Snape merely glared at him in his usual manner, his lip curled slightly. "You may sit down, Potter..."
Harry obediently slid into his seat and Snape relaxed visibly, then went about getting the students to work, continually warning Harry not to approach him with his eyes. Apparently, Snape was just as worried of being embarassed in public. Harry smiled at the humanity in that knowledge, and went about his work as usual, only just grazing out of destroying his potion completely on several occassions, thanks to Hermione's watchfulness.
"Potter, I was curious," came Malfoy's drawling voice, as Harry slipped to the back of the class to get some water for his cauldon. "Why Snape?"
Harry could swear there was a jealous taint to Malfoy's voice, and he turned his head slightly, not to look at Draco but to look at Snape. "He's clever. Strong. Intelligent. Witty. Why not?"
Malfoy slipped around to block Harry's view. "He's not handsome. He's cruel. He's a Slytherin. A Professor."
Harry withdrew the measuring jug from under the tap and turned it off, shifting on his feet to look into Malfoy's eyes for the first time. There was no denying the boy was beautiful. His eyes were crystal blue and his hair looked silk like. But Malfoy was...well he wasn't Harry's type, after all, Harry had always found himself fitting in better around older men.
Harry smiled wistfully and petted Draco on the shoulder with his free hand. "Maybe that's why I like him." And then he drifted away, quietly, leaving Malfoy by the tap, his mouth hanging open.
"Are you trying to catch flies, Mr. Malfoy, or have you forgotten how to breathe through your nose?"
Harry smirked. He definitely liked Snape's wit.
x - x - x - x
Detention didn't come fast enough, Harry decided. He was left to muse over his Potions essay, though found himself distracted as to what the expectant teacher of this essay would say when he received his gift.
Harry darted out of the hall, a little silver wrapped box clutched in his hand, the red cuff link firmly attached to its place on his robes. Harry found himself rushing to keep up with Snape this time, and after an age they were finally in the seclusion of Snape's chambers. Harry was handed a potions text book, and Snape glared at him when Harry refused to retreat back to his desk. "Yes, Mr. Potter."
"I...wanted to give you this..." he said softly, his trembling hand sliding out in offering towards Snape, the gift held firmly in it.
Snape swallowed, glaring at the package for a few moments before slowly lifting his eyes to Harry. "Why?"
"You gave me a gift. I thought I'd give you one back. Besides, I think it kind of suits you."
Snape's fingers fumbled with the package for a few moments, before finally sliding the box open, folding back the sheet of velvet and pulling out the little silver and black cufflink. Harry knew by the flinch that a wisp of magic had slid into Snape's thumb as he ran it over the jewel.
"What's it charmed with...?" Snape asked, instinctively.
"Longevity, prosperity and...uh..." Harry desperately tried to think of a more intelligent sounding word to say than 'love life.' "Er...fertility." No...that was the wrong word.
Snape perked an eyebrow and looked at him. "Fertility, Mr. Potter?"
"No!" Harry cried, shivering slightly. "Just...a..." he blushed, but he couldn't explain. Snape smiled cruelly, and quietly attached the silver cufflink to his robes. Harry had the sudden urge to kiss him and winced back slightly. "I'll uh...just be going on with my reading then."
Snape nodded, though he looked kind of haunted and rubbed the stone in the centre of the cufflink thoughtfully.
Harry found himself drifting back over to his table, the textbook clutched awkwardly as he too rubbed the little stone. At the touch a drive of pleasure ran through him he couldn't explain, and he almost dropped the text book. He let go of the stone and sat down, shifting uncomfortably for a moment before opening the text book. Snape was still staring at the little cufflink, but had stopped touching it. He had blanched unmistakably.
"Professor. Is something wrong?"
Snape looked up as though he hadn't realised Harry was still in the room. "Nothing, Potter..." Snape replied, then quietly shuffled his papers and went back to his marking.
Harry smiled and began to carefully read the book, unaware of Snape's occasional glances up at him.
x - x - x - x
Harry Potter did not have time for masturbation. In between terrible dreams where Voldemort killed people, and random adventures under his invisibility cloak in the middle of the night, Harry liked to sleep. But tonight was different, Harry knew it when he was undressing, as his hand brushed over the cufflink as he pulled his shirt back over his hands.
A wave of pleasure drove through him forcefully, drawing a gasp from his lips. Pulling the cufflink from his shirt and slipping into bed naked, Harry took extra careful care to draw and secure the curtains, and cast a silencing spell about his bed.
Quietly Harry lay back, brushing his fingers over the red and gold gem again, purring slightly as that same pleasure rolled over him. He kept his fingers on it, quietly, stroking it eagerly, and didn't retreat them even as he slid his hand down and shifted his body to make himself more comfortable. His own warm fingers eased out over his length thoughfully, while he
carefully explored the surface of the gem with his fingertips. He didn't stop rubbing the gem or himself until he came, and even then he nursed the stone carefully, and placed a gentle kiss on it before setting it away lovingly and cleaning himself up.
x - x - x - x
Thankfully there was no Potions the next day. Snape, Harry registered looked very flustered at breakfast, much like himself. When they came together after dinner for detention, Snape seemed to have cleared himself up, which was saying something for Snape. His hair was neater than ever, and perhaps a little cleaner. Maybe Harry was just desperately trying to find good points?
Harry slipped into the classroom behind Snape without a word, but gave a muffled little cry as he found himself slammed back against the door after it had shut.
"P-Professor?" Harry didn't think he'd done anything wrong.
"What charms are on that cufflink, Potter?"
"Longevity. Prosperity and a..love spell of some kind. It's...meant to cause a more loving...environment between lovers, I think."
"You think, Potter?" Snape was glaring at him furiously. Slowly Snape turned Harry's hand over, revealing the red and silver cufflink. He stroked over the gem easily and Harry collapsed under his touch as pleasure much stronger than anything else he'd ever felt before overwhelmed him. He barely noticed that Snape had let go of the gem and caught him. "Touch mine."
Tentatively, Harry's hand slid up, brushing the gem quietly with questing fingers, and Snape had to grab Harry's shoulders to stop himself falling. "That's...a strong spell."
Harry felt loneliness sweep in as Snape forced himself to move away again.
"Professor..."
"What is it, Potter?"
"I want to..."
"What, Potter?"
"Please don't leave me..."
Snape's eyes snapped around and he glared at Harry for a few moments, then quietly swept over to the boy's side, stopping beside him, but making no move beyond that. It was Harry who firmly wrapped his arms around Snape and collapsed against the elder man, and it was Harry who lifted his eyes up towards his Professor, but it was Snape who initiated the kiss.
Harry thought he was melting. Cho's kiss in fifth year had been wet and curious, and unpleasant. Snape's kiss was firm and sweet and knowing. Within moments Harry's lips had learnt from Snape's the very best way to brush against another's, his tongue knew how to arch up underneath Snape's upper lip, pulling it back to nibble on and encouraging Snape's serpentine tongue to join the fray at the same time. Without much promting, his teeth knew just how hard they could nibble, and were training themselves gentler and more teasing.
The most important thing Harry learnt was the fantastic taste of tea and cinnamon in Snape's mouth. It made him hungry for more in the way that food had never done before. He was willing to give everything he had to get it, and thankfully, Snape was having no qualms about it either.
"Dumbledore said it was fine," Snape gasped before initiating an even more desperate kiss against Harry's lips, encouraging a moan from the sweet tasting youth's mouth.
Entwined in his Professor's arms, Harry simply melted into the incredible kiss. Snape broke the kiss only to lean down and flick his tongue over the cufflink, and this alone made Harry shiver and buck in the other man's arms.
"That's right, my little Prince of Staves. Can I suggest you take tarot readings more often?"
Harry smiled and reached down to curl his fingers in Snape's ebony hair, pulling the man up to kiss him again and revelling in the cool, slick feel of the greasy strands under his fingertips. "Perhaps you should take a reading, King of Swords."
Snape smirked and lifted his hand to brush his fingers down the side of Harry's face, lovingly. "I think my future is quite certain, my Prince. You still have three more days of detention."
-Fin-
