Fic: No Hiding Place book Three: The Cottage (14/28)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Three: The Cottage (14/28)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Three: -Does being a good guy mean you also have to be a nice guy? Draco is about to find out. Companionable silences and fist fights are a good way to hide deeper emotions.
Warning: This part contains mild violence, explicit sex between men, confusion about sex (not non-con really!) and as you can guess, angst.

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

Part 14

Stupid.

Brainless. Deficient. Dim. Foolish. Half witted. Idiotic. Imbecilic. Inane. Indiscreet. Insensate. Irresponsible. Ludicrous. Mindless. Moronic. Nonsensical. Obtuse. Pointless. Senseless. Simple-minded. Stolid. Thickheaded. Witless.

It was amazing how many words Harry could find to describe both him and his actions.

Had to be because of Snape's influence. The mere thought brought forth yet another cascade of words describing his stupidity.

Maybe he should hurry upstairs and crawl under the bed and stay there until it was time to return to Hogwarts. It was probably nice and dark under his bed. Clean too. It was tempting.

Harry couldn't move. He just stood there, feeling utterly lost.

"Potter."

Hearing the quiet voice speak his name didn't even make Harry jump. He'd registered the footsteps at the same time as Snape had, but he'd been too stunned to bother to see who it was. He glanced at Malfoy. "Malfoy."

It didn't matter that his voice sounded so damn small and tired. This evening was already a total disaster, nothing could make him any worse. If the Slytherin chose to taunt him, he could always help him with his newly found insight on his own stupidity.

Draco cast a questioning look at Potter, but decided not to say anything to him. He didn't want to do anything to disturb his new game. Starting a shouting match with Potter would definitely ruin it all.

Instead of making a comment about his weird behavior, he went to pull on his outer robes and disappeared into the cold spring evening.

Barely noticing the slam of the door, Harry stood there. He remembered thinking of going to the loo or to the bed. He couldn't do either. Malfoy was in the loo. Ron was upstairs. He couldn't really deal with either right now.

He waited. For what, he didn't know. Maybe for Snape to come back and hex him, or maybe he was hoping he would wake up on the couch and find out that this was all just a bad dream. It wasn't very probable. Life was always worse in reality than it was in his worst nightmares.

The door opened again, allowing cool air to blow through the hallway. Malfoy shut the door firmly behind him, not at all surprised to see Potter still standing there. He decided not to pay any attention to him, shedding his outer robes in a hurry and then returning to his own room.

Still, Harry stood there, staring straight ahead.

After a long moment, he sighed. Nothing was going to happen. He could wait here forever, and it wouldn't change anything. Walking slowly as if in pain, he went to the loo, not bothering with his thick robes.

He was shivering when he came back into the cottage. The golden light that had been so warming earlier felt flat somehow. It had been easier to breathe outside, where it had been dark, reminding him of the dungeons back at Hogwarts.

The thought made his shivering worsen. His stupidity had probably banned him from the dungeons forever.

Cursing himself again, Harry sneaked back to the living room. All traces of the lassitude he'd felt earlier had disappeared somewhere, leaving him wide awake. He walked to the couch, sitting there with his hands squeezed into fists.

He still couldn't understand what had just happened. It had been a great day; like the few before, when they'd been free of the constant studying. He'd had such fun with Ron, enjoying the familiar camaraderie.

It had taken five minutes with Snape for him to ruin everything.

He had kissed Snape. Raising his hand slowly to his lips, Harry closed his eyes. Yes, he had kissed Snape. Brushed his mouth against his.

It had been a fleeting touch as Snape had flinched away the moment their lips had met.

Harry shivered. He had been completely mesmerized by the moment; the touch of Snape's hand. It had been unreal, standing there in the hallway with the man, holding his hand. There had been no sign of disgust in Snape then, when he had caressed his fingers, slowly, hesitantly.

There had only been that familiar burn in the dark eyes, the heat that was inviting him closer, like a moth to the flame.

Maybe that was why he felt like his whole world had turned into ashes. Snape had walked away from him without words, but his expression had been easy to read. There had been no emotions, not even disgust. A complete void of anything real. It was worse than anything else.

Harry hadn't known how much he'd come to rely on Snape really being there for him until he watched him walk away. The man had stopped trying to push him away a long time ago, allowed him close, closer than Harry had ever been to anyone. Had even come after Harry when he'd escaped Ron and the memory of his own past.

Those moments had been brief, but they had become the core of Harry's existence. Being with Snape felt right; the shared silence, the understanding of things most people couldn't even dream of.

What on earth had driven Harry to destroy that? Kissing Snape? He was really a total cretin!

Halting the litany of dark words that was starting to repeat in his mind again, Harry sighed. He couldn't draw conclusions on Snape's retreat. It was a gut reaction. Maybe he would think about it and let him explain tomorrow. Explain that he was indeed an idiot and apologize for his hasty actions. Promise he would never ever try anything as foolish as kissing him again.

The problem was, he wanted to kiss Snape again. That brief touch wasn't enough. Being honest with himself, he had to admit that he sort of wanted to hold Snape close and do sweaty naked things with him, wanted to spend hours in bed with him, even if to just talk. Needed to be with him.

He sighed. There was a world of difference between what he needed and what he wanted. Usually, he didn't get either.

It was completely quiet in the small cottage now. Harry leaned back against the backrest, trying to relax. He needed to think this through right now, so that tomorrow when he saw Snape he could approach the problem calmly, reasonably. They would have to talk about this, and he didn't want to sound like an idiot, rambling in panic.

No matter how he might feel.

Nothing came to mind, except the need to make everything better again. He could make no excuses. Honesty worked both ways. Lying to Snape now would be a dismal idea, one he'd see through immediately.

Harry closed his eyes. If lying was out of the question, he'd have to go with the truth. He could decide on the amount of the truth, but he would indeed have to tell Snape that he... He didn't even know what to call it. He liked him. Fancied him. He'd probably better not mention the sweaty naked things, even though after the kiss, it was kind of obvious already.

If the wall had been a bit closer, he would have banged his head against it.

He was tired, exhausted after a long day. He was thinking about things he didn't want to think, his mind painting a bleak picture of his lonely future after this one stupid hormonal mistake. He just wanted to sleep. Too weary to go upstairs, he decided to sleep here. He didn't want to move.

Insomnia, his old companion had settled in for the night, though. The clock on the wall ticked nightly hours away as he lay there, completely awake. He noticed how he didn't feel the usual panic, grateful for such a small comfort.

For the first time in months, he knew that even if the walls started closing in again, he wouldn't have a place to go. There wouldn't be a hiding place offered for him, no quiet words.

He managed to drift off a few times, cursing as he startled awake and saw the hand had only made its journey around the clock's face once. Those short moments of sleep only made him feel worse, as his body started to demand proper rest.

The first rays of the sun touched the floor on the other side of the room. It was getting brighter, the sound of birds waking up and chirping was strangely loud. Harry didn't mind. It was better to listen to the sounds coming from outside than to pay attention to his own thoughts.

Soon, the cacophony from outside was joined by the sound of water being run. Eppy was apparently awake, working in the kitchen. She didn't seem to mind the noise she was making, probably muttering to herself as well.

Harry stretched, grimacing as his shoulder popped loudly. Sprawling here for hours and hours hadn't been a good idea after all. The couch was definitely not as comfortable as he'd thought, and for a moment he missed his chair from Hogwarts.

Not a good thought. Maybe he wasn't about to fall asleep, but he refused to spend the whole morning wallowing either.

Padding quietly across the room so he wouldn't wake anyone up, he headed towards the door. Nature was calling. It was chilly outside, the early morning sun had yet to drive the coolness of night away. The ground was wet. Funny, he hadn't even noticed it had rained during the night.

A few insects scurried to hide as Harry lit a small magical light in the outhouse. He didn't really pay attention to them, noticing a fat spider in passing and wondering if he should shoo it away before Ron got here. Seeing how the spider was just sitting there made him reluctant to disturb it. Casting the now familiar cleansing charm on his hands, he decided to let the creature be.

He didn't feel like upsetting anything or anyone. Enough of that was already happening around him.

There were more sounds coming from the kitchen area as he returned to the cottage. Harry could smell bacon frying. Usually, it would make his stomach grumble, now it didn't have any effect on him.

Ron would probably be downstairs any minute now. He could smell food from miles away. At least it felt like that sometimes.

Before Harry could decide whether to go to eat or just return to the couch, one of the doors upstairs was opened, then slammed shut. Heavy footsteps rushed downstairs, as if the person approaching was in a great hurry.

"Hi Harry! You should have woken me up." Not even stopping to see if there was a reply, Ron was already on his way to the dining area. "Bacon!"

The familiar enthusiasm brought a hint of a smile on Harry's lips.

He was relieved to see that Ron didn't find anything weird in him being up this early. After spending the night worrying and brooding, he definitely didn't need to face Ron and his questions.

"Morning." Surprised by the yawn that accompanied his greeting, Harry muttered, "I knew your nose would wake you up sooner or later."

Ron stuck out his tongue at him, not at all offended by the quip. He was a growing young man and needed his food. Even though he'd never be as tall as Bill, he was already taller than Percy, and could consume an incredible amount of food without it showing. Much.

Concentrating on his friend and the breakfast, Harry led the way to the dining area. He didn't even cast a look at Snape's door. Before long, the man would come out and then they'd have to deal with what he'd done.

Eppy had already set the table. Seeing the mounds of food in the middle of the table, Ron grinned happily at the old house elf, not minding the snort she let out. He grabbed his plate and filled it with enthusiasm. This was the perfect way to start a day.

Even Malfoy's appearance a moment later couldn't ruin his appetite. He simply ignored him, already knowing there would be a smirk on his face.

Ron was starting to get used to the smug expression. It hadn't changed since the git had mauled him. Always there, a knowing smile that seemed to taunt him. At first he hadn't been able to keep from blushing when he'd seen that expression. It had brought forth embarrassment and guilt, mostly for his own behavior. Such stupidity was expected from Malfoy, everyone knew how the Slytherins related to sex. Of course he would see hatred as lust or foreplay. It was wrong of him to be affected by the whole thing.

So he tried not to pay attention to Malfoy and his looks. It wasn't easy, but he was not about to play with his rules.

Confident of his newly found resolve, he looked up as he reached for the juice pitcher, and then almost threw the pitcher at the smirking git as heat rose to his cheeks.

Damn it!

It just wasn't fair. Must be because of his complexion that came with the red hair. He'd never been able to control the way his cheeks reddened whenever he was uncomfortable. Ron poured himself a glass of juice and made sure his gaze didn't meet Malfoy's as he put the pitcher down again.

He was definitely not going to let him destroy his good mood or his appetite right now. Determined not to play Malfoy's game, he kept his attention on his food.

That way he didn't see the smirk melt into a look of deep satisfaction. It was good, for he'd undoubtedly done something rash if he'd realized that he'd just lost a round.

Forcing himself to eat even though he wasn't really hungry, Harry kept glancing at the door every few minutes. He hated this. Hated the waiting and the uncertainty. Was Snape going to come to breakfast at all?

It seemed he wasn't. A few moments later Malfoy pushed his chair back and tossed his napkin on his plate before walking out without a word. At least that was a good thing. Harry didn't want to witness a fight now. There would be plenty of time for that later.

There was no sign of Snape.

Making barely audible sounds of discontentment, Eppy appeared from the kitchen and started to clean the breakfast away. She glared at Ron who didn't seem to even notice her presence and continued eating.

It was such a normal sight, Harry almost smiled. He offered Eppy his plate and moved some of the other dishes closer for her to reach, earning a dark look and more muttered words for such courtesy. He didn't mind. Eppy was actually a welcome change to other, more eager house elves.

He watched her work, not bothering to offer more help, knowing it was not appreciated.

"You want to do something special today? I could go swimming again. Well, I mean later." Ron pushed back against the chair, sighing with happiness. He was certain he'd just sink if he went to the water right now. But damn he felt good. Eppy should cook bacon more often, like every day.

Harry shook his head. "I think I just want to stay here today." He was not about to leave the cottage. Snape had to come out of his room sooner or later, and when he did, he was going to have a word or two with him. He could wait here for as long as it took.

"Oh." Trying not to sound too disappointed, Ron shrugged. "Okay. So we'll just go and get our stuff then. I wonder if it rained last night."

Harry had completely forgotten about the laundry. He sighed as he remembered how wet it had been outside. They'd have to do something about their soggy clothes. He wondered if he could ask Ron to deal with them, knowing already that he couldn't send his friend out there alone. Asking him to work with Malfoy so that he could stay here and wait for Snape to come out of his room so that they could talk about how he'd kissed him would probably not go well either.

Working with the laundry was just as annoying as Harry had expected. Wet and tedious.

The silence he and Ron shared only added to his annoyance. He couldn't really think of anything to say, his mind too full of doubts and anger about what had happened. It seemed that Ron wasn't in any mood for idle chatter either.

Usually he wasn't too eager to take part in small talk. Now, it would have been a relief.

Instead of talking about Quidditch, or school, or even the weather, Harry kept thinking about the cottage. Folding damp shirts, he wondered if Snape had come out of his room yet. Planting a robe on the basket, he thought of going to Snape's door, asking for a moment. It would be a foolish strategy, but it might get results.

By the time he and Ron were finished, Harry was sure he was indeed going out of his mind. All the things he could think of sounded bad. Silence would suffocate him while talking might bring everything to an end. Giving Snape time might mean they never talked, going to him would lead into a fight.

Harry spread the damp robe over the door leading to their room. It would take some time for it to dry. The way the robe prevented him from closing the door didn't matter. He did not want to hide.

That was about the only clear thought in his head. He had absolutely no idea of what he wanted; nothing specific came to mind. He wanted things to be back to the way they were, but even that felt false.

Determined not to let go of his plan to at least try to talk to Snape, Harry went back downstairs, not even bothering to bring a book with him this time. He was content on sitting on the couch and waiting.

Having Ron join him shortly after didn't surprise him. He simply smiled at his friend, but didn't say a thing.

Lunch was announced by Eppy, who seemed even more irritated than usual. She walked slowly back to the kitchen, glaring at the doorway across the hall, almost as if her glare would bring Snape out.

Harry looked at the door as well. It didn't open, and Snape didn't come out. So much for wishful thinking.

Sitting here alone with Ron and Malfoy wasn't really making Harry feel any better. He waited in silence as the others cast some strange looks at each other and then managed to fill their plates without accidentally spilling anything steaming on each other's lap.

The food looked excellent and smelled good too. Harry piled sausages and chips on his plate, adding some vegetables as an afterthought, and then sat down, staring at his plate.

He was not hungry.

Not even bothering to play with his food, he sat there, wondering if he should even be here. It had felt better to stay in the living room; at least it had been peaceful there. He could just sit and think and didn't have to watch Ron act weirdly with Malfoy. He hadn't really paid attention on that earlier and wasn't about to start now.

Too many things were already going so damn wrong in his life, he didn't want to get involved with other people's troubles. As long as Malfoy wasn't hurting Ron -- and Ron wasn't killing Malfoy -- everything was all right.

Soft sounds from the hallway didn't alert Harry until the door was suddenly pushed open. He looked slowly up, completely ignoring the way Ron was trying not to choke on his food.

There was a familiar sneer on Snape's face as he stormed into the room. He cast a glare on Ron who was still coughing, allowing his gaze to slide over the table to Draco as well.

He paid absolutely no attention to Harry.

The tension in the room seemed to only grow as he sat down and reached out for the dishes. Even Eppy had disappeared back into the kitchen. She might be a grouchy old house elf, but she wasn't stupid.

At least Ron wished he could follow her example and run. He didn't feel hungry anymore. Casting a worried glance at Harry, who was once again just staring at his plate, he didn't move to get up. It would feel wrong to leave Harry alone with the Slytherins right now.

The only sound in the room was the soft clinking of metal against porcelain, occasionally joined by the sound of a glass being lowered back on the table.

Harry lifted his hand slowly and grabbed his fork. Knowing he couldn't eat a thing, he simply poked at his lunch, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

He tried to remember when he'd last felt this uncomfortable and failed. There were occasions, he was certain, but somehow nothing seemed as bad as this. He wanted to say something to end the silence, but knew he couldn't. If he said something to Snape while Ron and Malfoy were around, he would probably never have a chance to talk to him again.

Him being an idiot might be forgiven. Him being an idiot and embarrassing Snape in front of others would probably result in being turned into something small and slimy.

Pushing his carrots to the other side of the plate, Harry wished this was all over already.

Barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Draco watched his professor cut his lunch into small precise portions before skewering them with his fork. He had no idea of what had happened, but he could well guess. Potter was looking completely desolate, where as Snape seemed as forbidding as ever.

Something important had happened last evening. He wondered what he would have seen if he'd come downstairs five minutes earlier than he had.

The way his professor and Potter had behaved together had been an enigma for weeks. They didn't seem to be playing any of the games he was aware of, and he knew many. Whatever there was between those two, it was something that wasn't a part of his vocabulary.

Draco wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

He did know enough to keep his mouth shut. Making any kind of comments would be suicidal now. That was the reason he'd never use the strange looks between Potter and Snape as a weapon in his ongoing battle with Weasley. Speculations about Snape's life were all right only as long as they never went to the man himself.

This silence and obvious discomfort in Potter was intriguing. Draco would not say anything about it, but he was definitely going to watch. It was highly entertaining.

Finishing with his food in less than five minutes, Snape pushed his chair back. He was not going to stay here a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. He stood up, not even looking at Harry. "I do not wish to be disturbed. If you find it necessary to do something idiotic, please do it outside." It was accompanied by a glare that was much more effective than 'or else...'

Before anyone could even nod, he was out in the hallway.

Harry lifted his gaze from his plate, groaning as he realized that he didn't have a chance to talk to Snape now either.

"Are you all right?" Looking worried, Ron leaned closer to his friend. He'd noticed that there was something going on with Harry, but didn't really want to pry. He didn't want to force him to lie to him.

"No. Not really." Too tired to even evade the hesitant inquiry, Harry shrugged. "But it's nothing big."

Ron wasn't stupid enough to actually believe that, but nodded anyway. "Okay." They had talked about this often enough for him to know that if Harry wanted to talk, he'd talk.

After that disgusting and completely wrong thing that Malfoy had done a few days back, he'd come to understand the need for silence. He wouldn't want to share his thoughts with anyone right now. Not even Harry.

It was a relief to see a hint of understanding in Ron's eyes. Harry pushed his chair back, not bothering to even pretend to eat anymore. Since there was nothing to say, he padded back to the living room.

He would wait here.

He knew it was foolish, but he couldn't do anything else right now. Seeing the blatant dismissal had somehow taken all the fire from him. He felt completely drained, unable to think of anything to do, so he simply curled on the couch, arms wrapped around his knees.

The cottage wasn't quiet. The contrast to the nighttime was enormous. Most of the sounds came from the dining area and the kitchen, where someone was making lots of noise by slamming plates on the table. A moment later there was the sound of the door slamming shut and then footsteps going upstairs.

Harry assumed that was Ron. At least it had sounded like him making an angry retreat. Maybe Malfoy had once again said something stupid to him. He didn't know.

To his dismay, he had to admit that right now, he didn't care. His whole life had been a big drama, his thoughts usually focusing on things around him. Lately, he had tried to keep in mind his duty to the Order, therefore ignoring personal needs.

Worries and doubts that had gathered inside him like a storm had been poured out in the dungeons. It had been the one openly selfish act Harry had done in years. That, and the occasional nights he'd spent ages ago trying to drown everything in warm skin against his.

Otherwise, he'd tried his best to be what was expected of him, at least on the outside. That Harry Potter would have been worried about Ron's behavior and wouldn't have simply stayed here on the couch.

He sighed. Whatever was going on, it wasn't a matter of life and death. It could wait. He didn't know if this could. Snape wasn't like anyone he knew; he could hold a grudge for decades. Waiting for a proper moment wouldn't work. He could probably wait forever, and Snape would be exactly the way he was now.

In Harry's tired mind, the guilt of being a lousy friend mixed with all the other dark emotions, leaving him utterly exhausted. He closed his eyes, wondering if he could take a short nap here. There was nothing for him to do, so he might as well.

Every sound coming from the hallway made him jump. Eppy's work in the kitchen was loud enough to keep him awake. His own thoughts were even louder.

Dinnertime came and went, and there was no sign of Snape. The only sign of his existence was the faint smell of sulfur coming from his room; he was once again hiding in his work.

Ron spent some time with Harry after grabbing a quick dinner. He didn't want to linger in the dining area with Malfoy, so he went to sit with Harry. Sensing that offers to talk wouldn't be appreciated, he offered to play some chess instead. When Harry refused, he simply sat on the other couch and pretended to be enthralled by one of the Muggle novels Hermione had packed in his trunk.

It was dark outside. Neither Ron nor Harry bothered to turn on the lights as it became too dark to read, they simply sat there.

"I'm going to bed." Resigned to the fact that nothing would really happen, Ron stretched and laid the book on the couch. He'd heard Malfoy make his way out to the outhouse and back again a while earlier and knew he could go through his evening routines without bumping into the git.

Harry sighed. "Okay. I think I should do that too." He was tired and disappointed. He was also getting angry, even though he couldn't really decide on the object of his anger.

Yawning, Ron made his trip to the outhouse. It was insane that a day spent mostly inside doing nothing could make him more tired than a day spent doing disgusting chores. He was feeling a bit groggy and there was definitely a beginning of a headache.

He tried to count how long they would have to spend here at the cottage. The days were slightly blurred, forming an endless 'then' in his mind. When he finally came to an estimate, he couldn't help groaning out loud, his exhale disturbing a moth that was circling the small light in the outhouse.

They would still have to stay here for weeks. Weeks of watching Harry brood about something. Trying not to stay alone with Malfoy, who hadn't repeated the kiss, but would probably try something as disgusting and totally unwelcome in the near future if the signs he was sending were correct. Ron was beginning to wish they were back at Hogwarts, even with all the exams approaching. Anything would be better than this.

Lost in his gloomy thoughts, he was startled into a panicked yelp as the cottage door opened the moment he touched the handle. It was like the worst kind of a flashback, except that this time it was not Malfoy.

Managing to stutter, "Good night, sir," Ron stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He couldn't help feeling shivers run down his spine.

The general gloominess would be tolerable without Snape here. Somehow he managed to make things worse with his mere presence. Ron wouldn't be surprised if he had something to do with what was bothering Harry.

Because no matter what anyone said, Snape was and always would be a cold hearted bastard.

As Ron peeled off his outer robes, still wondering why it was so damn cold in here, the door to the living room opened and Harry peeked out. Instead of looking sad and angry at the same time, there was a weird glint in his eyes.

"Was that Snape?" Harry thought he'd heard some steps in the hallway before the door had slammed shut, but wasn't sure about that. Seeing Ron nod made him feel strangely boneless. "Good."

"You know, sometimes I really worry about you." There was enough smile on Ron's face to make that a joke, but he did mean it. The mood swings were nothing new, he'd had to witness Harry move a bit farther from him and Hermione and the others for some time now and there had been signs of brooding for ages. But this whole thing with Snape was really starting to worry him.

Delusions about liking Snape. That was like saying you liked the Muggle way of taking care of dental hygiene. No disrespect towards Hermione's parents, but Ron had heard stories.

"Don't bother. I'm fine." If not fine yet, he would be soon. At least Harry wouldn't have to spend another day waiting. He gave Ron a faint but honest grin. "Go to bed. I'll be up there soon."

He stepped fully into the hallway and then stood there, waiting patiently. This was exactly the kind of an opportunity he'd been waiting for.

Ignoring the weird way Ron glanced at him on his way upstairs, he tapped his fingers against the wall. He was really nervous, but he wasn't going to back away now. He had faced worse than this. Probably.

The hallway was completely quiet. Ron's footsteps could be heard from above, but there were no other sounds. Harry tried very hard not to focus on the unnaturally loud beating of his heart. This was not a thing to be anxious about, this was nothing new. He had talked to Snape before. Everything was going to be all right.

He released a deep breath as the door opened.

Snape walked in from the dark evening as if entering the Potions classroom. The door banged shut with precision, the gust of cold air making his robes billow.

The breeze made Harry shiver. "Snape." There was notable hesitation in his voice.

There was a totally blank expression on Snape's face as he glared at Harry. He didn't say anything, just hung his outer robe on the rack.

Hesitation was slowly turning into annoyance, the feeling tingling through Harry's body. He was glad of it, for it was a strong emotion, driving him on. "Are you just going to pretend that I'm not here?" For some reason that was more offensive than anything.

There was a short silence. Then cold, precise words, "Go to bed, Potter."

At least now they were talking, in a way. Any words would be better than the icy silence. No insults would manage to hurt more than dark thoughts that would linger and fester until one went insane.

"I want to talk with you." Harry was getting really angry at the cold stare. This was the side Snape showed in class, the side he'd become to hate since he'd first seen beyond it.

Snape snorted, the sound full of contempt. "I don't have time for this." With that, he turned his back on Harry.

The shock of seeing such clear dismissal almost paralyzed Harry. He stared at the retreating man, feeling cold inside. Then he rushed after Snape, almost catching him before they reached his room.

Panting with rage, he stared at the door that had been banged shut right in front of his face. He was not going to give up this easily. "Snape!" He knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping hard against the wood. "Open the door."

There was no answer, the door staying closed.

Harry hadn't really expected there to be an answer. He knocked again and then tried the handle. The fact that the door was locked wasn't exactly a surprise either. "Open the damn door, Snape!"

Still no reaction. He'd thought the man would at least open the door to scowl at him or to tell him he was a total cretin for yelling like this in the hallway. The silence wasn't going to drive him away. He'd stand here until Snape opened the door even if it took hours.

Of course that would make both Ron and Malfoy come here to see what was going on. He was amazed neither one had come to see what all the noise was about.

He raised his hand again, and then lowered it. This was ridiculous. Grabbing his wand, he pointed it at the lock, snarling out, "Alohomora." Maybe Snape hadn't put any wards on his door yet.

The lock opened with a loud click.

Before Harry could even step into the room, Snape's voice came out clearly, "Get out of my room, Mr. Potter." He sounded like he was definitely not joking.

"I need to talk to you." It was a parody of the need that had driven Harry on weeks earlier. "About what happened last night." He would not back down now. He'd said more painful things to Snape, had ranted and raved and cried until he was hoarse. This was easier than that.

Snape crossed his arms across his chest. "Nothing happened last night. Now get out of my room before I lose my patience with you!"

"Nothing happened? Damn it, Snape how can you say that? Nothing..." Stubbornly standing by the door, Harry shook his head. "No. I am not going to lie about it. Not to you or to myself. We kissed." He faced the glare without flinching. "And it wasn't an accident. I wanted to kiss you. That's the truth."

"Don't be ridiculous!" The tone of Snape's voice was familiar from years of Potions classes. It held all the contempt and annoyance he could muster. Hid a multitude of other emotions as well.

Harry's reaction was instant. Blushing with shame, he said, "Snape..." He had no idea what to say really.

"Now if you're quite through with your childishness, I would like to retire for the night. Leave!" It was clear that Snape had nothing more to say.

It was the cold way Snape shrugged the whole thing off that hurt Harry the most. He looked into Snape's eyes, knowing that there was no getting through to him while he was acting like this. Words would only make him angrier.

He stepped backwards, trying to hide the pain from the other man. It didn't really work as well as he thought, as he stumbled into his own robes, almost falling on the floor. It was mortifying. Suddenly he didn't want to face Snape anymore. He just wanted to run away from this whole mess.

What a stupid thing to do in the first place! Kissing Snape? He really had been out of his mind. What the hell had driven him to act like a damn teenager, a stupid, horny teenager? Why the hell hadn't it been enough to just be with Snape?

Now he was losing all that; the only person who knew almost everything about him, the peace he felt with him. He didn't know what made him angrier, his own idiocy, or Snape's stubbornness and refusal to let him explain everything.

He slammed the door shut behind him, anger driving him on even into the cool evening. Strange, how long it had been since he'd last felt this mad. Cold anger was familiar to him, the icy feeling in his chest that confined all the emotion inside. This was different; hot rage that made him run until he tasted blood in his mouth, leaving him empty with the urge to smash things. Since there wasn't anything breakable anywhere near, Harry simply drove his fist into the first tree available.

It hurt like hell, but somehow it made him feel a lot better.

Panting, he stared at his bruised knuckles. The pain was overriding some of the rage, and he was now able to have a clear thought or two. Realizing that running blindly around the countryside was idiotic, he leaned against the tree and slid down on the ground.

He just wanted to stay here forever. Not thinking anything. No thoughts. That sounded wonderful.

Of course nothing was ever that easy for Harry Potter.

"Are you quite through with your little tantrum, Potter?" The dry voice was the first indication of Snape's presence. He'd moved through the small grove quietly, not making any sound as he followed Harry.

Seeing the expression on the boy, he doubted he would have heard him even if he'd made as much noise as a herd of stampeding Bicorns.

Harry let out a broken laughter. "It had to be you following me. Damn it, Snape..." He could tell by the intent look in the dark eyes that he probably wouldn't have any privacy from Snape now that he needed it.

"You're wandering around the place in the middle of the night. Of course I would follow you, you idiot!" Snape snapped the words out.

It only made Harry shake harder with mirthless laughter. "Why do you care? Why the hell should you care about an idiot brat like me? It's not like you even want to talk to me. Or be honest with me."

However much Snape wanted to call his tone sullen, he couldn't. There was too much genuine pain there. It surprised him to actually flinch at the thought that he was causing that pain. He'd never cared about such things before. "You know your safety is important to me." That had never seemed as painfully obvious. "But it doesn't mean I have to indulge your fantasies."

That was clearly an evasion. A very careful evasion, but even Harry could recognize it as such.

"Stop it. Just stop. If you can't even... You've never lied to me." Seeing the denial in Snape's eyes, he amended, "Not about things that really matter. Don't start now."

Snape wanted to say something excruciatingly cruel. Remind him that he was simply doing his duty listening to him, or maybe even say that whatever emotion Harry saw in him was pity and nothing more.

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "I can not be held responsible for your delusions, Potter." He snapped his mouth shut. No matter how hard he'd tried, it hadn't come out right. There wasn't enough real scorn in him.

"Will you just listen to me?" Exasperated, Harry looked at Snape. The moon was still bright enough to illuminate the man's face, but he couldn't really tell anything about his expression. Snape was a master of hiding most of his emotions, except rage, of course. He never seemed to hide that. "Please. You promised you would listen."

There were no words, but Snape nodded. Yes, he had made such an utterly foolish promise. He could handle listening to Harry again, even if this would be the most insane thing he'd ever said.

To his amazement, what came out next wasn't even close to what he expected.

"I don't want this to drive you away. Or make you drive me away." Harry wanted to make that absolutely clear. "I may have a crush on you, but that's not the issue here."

Snape was rarely truly surprised; he'd seen and heard too much during his life. This was the second time Harry Potter managed to astonish him. First by actually having a mind that worked. Now with this.

Forcing his gut reaction of angry words and disdain down with surprising ease, Snape nodded again, urging Harry to go on even though he was certain he did not want to hear this.

Harry let out a soft sigh, glad that his totally unplanned confession hadn't chased Snape away again. He never knew how he would react. It made this conversation more difficult than any they'd had this far. "I won't apologize for kissing you. That would be a total lie. I'm not sorry for that, but I am sorry if it..." He searched for the proper word. "Offended you somehow."

It was enough to convey his meaning, even if the word was not exactly the one he wanted to use.

"I was not offended." Appalled, yes, even disgusted by his own blindness. Snape couldn't believe he had not recognized the looks and touches earlier. Couldn't believe he'd even encouraged them in a way.

"Thank Merlin!" This time, Harry did nothing to hide the relief in his voice. "Okay. Good." He smiled brightly at Snape.

Snape wondered what would come next. He had never seen anyone be so happy for not managing to offend him before. It went against all the rules. Harry was supposed to want to offend him, that was the natural order of things.

Rising slowly to his feet, Harry brushed his hands against his robe. His palms felt clammy, the sensation extremely unpleasant. "Can we talk about it? I mean... We don't have to talk about the kiss if you don't want to, but... I want to talk with you. About something. Anything."

"I'm once again amazed by your eloquence, Potter." The sarcasm came unbidden. Snape knew what he meant. He wasn't prepared to talk about that ridiculously clumsy attempt of a kiss, didn't want to think about his own reaction to it. He'd spent hours working with potions, refusing to think about anything.

It would have been a waste of time to spend any time contemplating such utter lunacy.

Harry wasn't going to let it go. "I mean it. Are you going to stop running away and talk to me?" He didn't know what he'd do if Snape refused to go back to what they'd had. He'd probably pester him until he either gave in or hexed him with an Unforgivable.

"I am not running away." The denial was instant, even though Snape knew that neither believed that to be true. He watched Harry for a moment, and then voiced the thought that had been gnawing at him for some time now. "You don't need me anymore, Potter. As much as it amazes me, I have to say that you have learned to process your thoughts quite efficiently these past months."

Shaking his head, Harry said, "No." He was not going to let Snape out this easy.

"Why?" Snape didn't have to elaborate. He knew that Harry's denial wasn't about needing him, it was about their agreement. He couldn't understand why he would want to continue their conversations now; they weren't vital to either of them.

"I'm not strong enough to do that. I can acknowledge the fact that 'yes, I do like you and find you sexy as hell and by the way it's not a good idea to shag your teacher so let's not do it after all'. You know me. I'm not a walking hard on! But for us to stop talking because of this. Do you have any idea of how..." Realizing that he was about to say something he would definitely regret later on, Harry straightened his back. "Never mind that."

Snape felt cold all over. He knew the boy was right. Without realizing just how far it would go, he'd offered him something unconditional, and was now running away like an idiot just because he was... Apprehensive. Not about what Potter probably thought of, but apprehensive anyway. "No. Say it."

"Fine. I see you as a friend. Yeah. Go ahead and laugh. I feel comfortable with you, and I thought you weren't appalled by my presence either. Now you're pushing me away just because of this thing. It's not fair."

"And what is it I have no idea of?" The way Harry was evading the whole question was actually impressive, but Snape wanted the truth.

Harry smiled a wry smile. "Of how it feels like to be losing a friend."

It was ridiculous how the words hit Snape. He was quiet for a moment, wondering of what Harry would say if he ever said a word about the only real friend he'd ever had. Or thought he'd had.

Never trust a Slytherin, was a quite famous saying amongst the other Houses. Never trust a Malfoy was another one. Snape hadn't exactly been naive as a youngster, but he had made some mistakes. Trusting Lucius Malfoy was one he regretted the most.

Snape sighed, deciding to drop the whole thought. He was not about to talk with anyone about this. "I understand you're having..." He had to actually think about how to phrase that. He was definitely not going to use the words 'sexy', 'shag' or 'hard on' in the sentence. "I understand you're... infatuated with me." A complete lie. He couldn't understand it at all.

"For the lack of a better word, yes." Biting sarcasm in Harry's voice.

It rather reminded Snape of himself. "You do understand that it's perfectly normal for someone like you to have such feelings towards someone you trust and confide to." He could still remember how many of his yearmates had made fools of themselves with Poppy. Trips to the infirmary had usually lead to idiotic crushes on the woman.

There was a short silence, then Harry started to laugh. He couldn't help it. Snape's words had just made him think about another conversation they'd had a while back.

Snape waited patiently for Harry to stop laughing. He was convinced this was confirming his speculations of the boy's instability. How annoying. After all, Harry had never shown any signs of real insanity back at Hogwarts.

Wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks, Harry gasped, "Are you speaking out of experience, Snape?" The snort following that was definitely a muffled giggle; a very unmanly sound of amusement. "After all, you have been in the dark place yourself, needing someone to talk to..." More muffled giggles.

It took Snape a moment to realize just exactly what he meant with that. At first he was trying very hard not to think about how he'd been after leaving the Death Eaters. He'd been in no condition to be sexually attracted to anyone then, not for quite some time. Then the meaning hit him, and he had to roll his eyes at Harry's idiocy. "No, Potter, I have never been attracted to the Headmaster."

He didn't even want to think about what that would have led to. Probably a pat on the head, a bowl of Sherbet Lemons and then murderous glares from Minerva.

After Harry had calmed down a bit, Snape added, "But that does not change the fact that our... association is not one on which you can build a romantic relationship. I do not care if you have fantasies about me. You're probably not the first student to dream of me. However I would assume those dreams usually deal with various ways of killing me." The thought made his lips curl up a bit.

"You're probably right." Harry nodded, still smiling. That was probably the essence of Neville's most cherished daydreams. The laughter was bubbling right below the surface, just waiting for a perfect opportunity to emerge again.

Snape refused to comment on that. "I am not only your teacher, Potter. I'm your..." There was yet another pause as he had to search for a proper word.

This time none of the terms he could think of fit.

"You come to me when you need to talk. That makes this whole matter therapeutic. Infatuation is completely understandable." There. That made sense.

Harry let out a snort. "Right. I see you as a therapist. As a father confessor. We have a student/teacher relationship. Or maybe a doctor/patient one." Another snort. "Tell me another one, Snape, because I'm not buying this one."

"Mr. Potter." There was no hint of humor in Snape's voice. The tone was one rarely heard even in the Potions classroom; the rage there bordering on murderous. Glaring at Harry, he said, "You're out of line."

For someone who had lived through half a dozen attempts for his life, Harry seemed to have poor survival instincts. He didn't budge, didn't even look embarrassed or scared. "No. I'm not. We're not in the classroom, Snape, and I'm not trying to be a disrespectful pest." There was actually a hint of a smile on his lips again. "Even though you probably think I'm succeeding even without trying."

"I see." The lack of apology didn't really surprise Snape. People usually didn't stick around long enough to actually say they were sorry. He was however astonished of the way Harry spoke. It wasn't the first time he'd contradicted his words.

Never before had he sounded like this, serious and honest. Not arguing for the sake of arguments.

Snape closed his eyes, wishing he was back in the cottage. He didn't want this, any of this. Maybe offering his help -- or accepting Harry's request for it, he couldn't really tell anymore -- had been a mistake from the beginning. He didn't want to know Harry Potter as a person, didn't want to see behind the mask he seemed to wear. His life had been complicated enough before this whole mess.

The story of his life. Never simple, never really peaceful. He was always surrounded by idiots, or the dark demons of his own past. He had enough trouble with that.

He did not need this.

"You know, this isn't about me fancying you. Not really." Harry ignored the rather cold silence, and went on, "You can't really make me hate you. I know you, Snape, and I still like you."

For some reason that was even more incomprehensible than the kiss. Snape wondered if Harry was a total masochist. He had never shown him anything but scorn. Having the idiot tell him he didn't hate him anymore had been bad enough. This was definitely worse. Harry liked him? Why on earth?

Since Snape didn't say anything, Harry said quietly, "And I kind of thought you don't exactly hate me anymore."

There was no answer to that. The silence was in a way as revealing as words would be. If Harry had been wrong, Snape would have undoubtedly hurried to deny it.

Snape felt a surge of irrational anger at that. He didn't want the idiot to be able to read him like this. He would never admit not hating his students; he hated each and every one of those brainless children. Loathed all the unthinking people milling around him. Could barely stand most of the Order, knowing that they had no idea of what they were up against.

He didn't want to acknowledge that Harry Potter was any different from the others, but couldn't really deny it. This wasn't what he'd expected when he'd agreed to listen to Harry.

He should have seen it coming. From the first moment he realized the young man was more than what his reputation told him. That even if he had no talent with potions, he wasn't an empty headed celebrity after all and had hopes and fears, most of which reminded him of his own.

It had been clear from the beginning. Snape sighed. He'd done this to himself, and now he had to figure a way out of this whole mess. "I do understand your worries about friendship." The word came out with a moue of distaste. He'd never needed friends, the word reminding him of those who had used it to describe a bond more horrible than any slavery.

He was still not thinking about Lucius Malfoy.

"I'm not willing to talk about it right now. Nor am I willing to talk about whatever hormonal feelings you may harbor towards me." Snape knew he couldn't continue ignoring the topic forever, but wasn't going to address it without thinking it through. He was not a Gryffindor who barged into everything unprepared.

"Okay." Harry wouldn't argue with that. Now that he'd got what he wanted, he was not going to push his luck. He'd said Snape's presence in his life would be enough, and it would have to be.

"However," Snape said, wishing they could just leave it at that. He knew Harry and knew that it would fester between them if he didn't say something. "I do believe we should address the matter later on."

Harry couldn't say anything. He just stared at Snape. Did he understand correctly?

"If you are still eager to talk about this, we shall. But in private. I would ask you not to make another scene." Not that Snape would ask. He was telling.

"Sure. Of course!" It would be all right to wait, as long as it was clear that eventually, they would indeed talk about this. "Can we still... You know. Talk?"

Knowing quite well what Harry meant by that, Snape nodded. He had little choice on the matter now. After allowing himself to get into this mess, he had to deal with what happened next. "Yes."

That was enough.

There were no words exchanged between them as they walked back to the cottage. Snape was in no mood to make comments about anything. Finally noticing how cold it was, Harry simply needed to get inside as soon as possible. The silence was mellow again, holding no secrets or hidden dark emotions.

For some reason it made Harry feel even better than their agreement.

It was quiet in the cottage. No lights shone from upstairs. The lack of anyone lurking in the shadows waiting to see where they had gone was definitely a relief.

Night time wasn't made for big scenes or explanations. It was perfect for quiet contemplation or hiding. This time there would not be any reason for either, at least for Harry. He was covering a yawn already, finally able to feel physical weariness as well. It had been a long day and he was perfectly willing to go to bed.

He was quite certain that this time he wouldn't spend hours tossing and turning and staring at the clock. His dreams would probably not haunt him either.

"Good night, Snape." Harry didn't move any closer to the man, but let some of the fondness shine in his gaze.

He smiled at the way Snape glared at him, knowing it wasn't disgust that made him snort. Feeling warm, he turned around and climbed the stairs.

Slipping into the room he shared with Ron, Harry leaned against the door for a while. His mind was a jumble of hopes and fears, and he still couldn't fully comprehend what had just happened. Life was an endless string of disappointments. Having something go right was a shock.

Snape didn't hate him, wasn't going to push him away anymore and would allow him in his rooms again. It was enough to make him want to shout for joy.

"Harry?"

Startling at the sound, Harry padded away from the doorway. "Sorry. I hope I didn't wake you up." He'd thought Ron was asleep by now.

"No. Wasn't asleep." A brief moment of groping sounds as Ron reached out for his wand was followed by, "Lumos. Ouch. My eyes."

The bright light forced Harry to blink. It had somehow been easier in the dark. He had never been afraid of the lack of illumination, darkness feeling like a second home by now.

"What was all the noise about?" Mumbling it out, Ron peeked from under the covers. He'd tried to get some sleep, but had been interrupted by some yelling and then a loud bang. Since Harry was so obviously a part of what was going on, he'd decided to wait till he was back before drifting off.

Harry sat on his bed. He was confused about what had just happened, mainly since it had gone better than he'd ever dreamed. "I..." He shook his head slightly, knowing that he couldn't say that out loud. "I had a fight with Snape."

That definitely jolted Ron wide awake. "What?" He searched for signs of Harry slowly turning into a toad. There was no evidence of such a thing happening in front of his eyes.

"We had a... misunderstanding. Nothing serious. We kind of fixed it." Harry didn't know what would happen tomorrow, but at least he knew he and Snape were still talking.

"But..." There had been no rumors about anyone ever really arguing with Snape. Ron remembered some of the words exchanged between Harry and the disgusting creep, but none of them had ever ended with them 'fixing it'. There had been detention. An unconscious Potion master lying on the floor in the Shrieking Shack. Once even Harry running out of the class. Never this. "You had a fight with Snape?"

"Sort of."

Ron couldn't believe it, even though the sounds from the downstairs had sounded unpleasant. Harry had fought with Snape? "I can't believe you're still alive." He sounded absolutely serious.

The words brought a smile on Harry's lips, a bubbling feeling tingling inside him. It was something he'd felt all too rarely recently. Not fighting against the mirth, he chuckled out loud, finally squirming with laughter. It was an utterly happy sound with no traces of darkness.

Yes. He was alive. And he felt good.

---

Comments

[effie-chan.livejournal.com]

Well I'm glad Harry and Snape sorted that out. Now they can move on to the interesting parts *waggles eyebrows*

[ravenrosebud.livejournal.com]

Brilliant chapter. I'm quite proud of Harry for the way he handled Snape and that he was able to make it so the two could remain friends.

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Oh yeah, baby!

:D

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

I think Snape would still be appalled to be called anyone's friend. But that's just because his definition of the word is definitely twisted...

And Harry really is showing signs of maturity! Am shocked! ;D

[yura-slash.livejournal.com]

oh snape, just give in already ;) good chapter~

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

He's a stubborn bugger, isn't he?

[maymak.livejournal.com]

OMG!
I've seen so many first kisses in so many snarry fics, but your first kiss - not a kiss yet, just brushing Harry's lips against Snape's - is WOW! I'm so impressed! And just when Harry kissed Severus my reading was interrupted... I have to have some sleep now and I can't wait until I can read further. Brilliant work! Thank you again (and not for the last time :))

I hope you aren't tired of my comments yet. I believe authors like comments and I'm ready to give you some :)

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

*grin* Well, since I was taking it extra slow, I wanted to do it right.

Definitely not annoyed by the comments. :) Yes, we authors tend to love feedback, and it's very good to hear you like the story. Feel free to leave comments even if you get annoyed at the fic later on. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

*cough* So is praise, mind... :D