Summary : A spell failed and here we are. Harry begins to hear what every man is thinking, and his potions mastermind is far from what he had ever imagined. Slash SSHP.

Disclaimer : Nothing is mine.  Harry Potter's books are the property of the fabulous J. K. Rowling.

Warning : Slash Harry/Severus.

A/N : This story will be hard for me to translate because there are a lot of sexual innuendoes and things that I know in French (it's my first language) but not in English so I just ask you to be patient, please. Thank you.

I thank also my beta-reader Shalane for her help and kindness. Big, big kisses.

Thoughts are '...' and words are "..."

What men want

Chapter 1 : Oops!

Yeah! The school day was finally over and Harry dropped himself into an armchair in the Gryffindor common room. 'Fortunately', he said to himself, 'I've already done all my homework'. It was only Monday, but the young student was already tired. The seventh year's reputation was not exaggerated. It really was the hardest year of all.

"Hey Harry" called Ronald Weasley. "Do you want to train a little bit with me? I haven't  mastered the mind projection spell, and if I won't manage to cast it tomorrow, Flitwick'll give me a lot of extra work."

Ron was looking at his friend with an expression so pitiful that Harry, despite his lack of energy and enthusiasm, couldn't refuse.

The mind projection spell was a part of a complicated but very useful branch of magic that  allowed you to read someone else's thoughts temporarily. However, this power couldn't be practiced, and it only worked if you were about to be hexed or were in real danger. If neither were true, the spell wouldn't work. Because of this, no wizard or witch could take advantage of another by knowing their thoughts. During a duel, the person who was attacked could know at the same second as their aggressor what he was doing, so he could anticipate how to move.

Harry used this spell during his final battle with the Dark Lord, and it was one of the things that had permitted him to finally defeat Voldemort the year before.

Standing in the correct position, in front of his friend, Harry took out his wand of his pocket and saw Ron brandish his own in a fluid movement. The red-haired boy exclaimed, "Praehendere pensaraaaaaaahhhhh!."

A flash of purple light lightened the tip of his wand and hit Harry who fell onto the floor.

"Oh no!" moaned Ron. "Sorry Harry, this stupid cat just... Harry? Harry!"

The young Gryffindor rushed towards his friend who was lying motionless on the floor. His face was very paler than snow, and his eyes were closed.

"Oh my God!" breathed Ron, horrified, before taking his still friend to the Hospital Wing at a run.


'Oww, my head!' groaned Harry to himself.

Harry knew that he was in a comfortable bed, in a quiet room, but his brain couldn't think beyond that. He felt like he was made of lead and.... oh... there's the horrible headache.

'Oh no! what have I done? Forgive me Harry. Wake up please. Wake up.'

Harry recognized it as Ron's voice, but it seemed that he was... crying. He had never seen Ron cry, and didn't want to, either. Harry tried to speak, to reassure his friend, but his mouth wouldn't open.

'I'm so sorry, you can't die...'

Harry was yelling words that didn't go past his lips, 'I'm here. Don't worry. I won't die. Just give me some more time.'

'Oh Harry!'

Then a noise of a door being opened, along with noises of quick but light footsteps. A familiar walk- the Headmaster's.

"How is he Poppy?" he asked with a worried but mastered voice.

"He hasn't yet awoken, Headmaster. I'm just a bit worried. Mister Weasley told me that he cast the mind projection spell onto Mister Potter during training, but he didn't pronounce it correctly and..."

"I'm sorry, Professor" cut Ron off, his tears falling on his pale cheeks. "I didn't want to hurt Harry. I've made movement of the wrist correctly and I've pronounced the spell but before I could finish to say it, Hermione's cat - Crookshanks - jumped on me. I guess he thought I wanted to play with him, and..."

"It's not your fault Mr. Weasley" answered Dumbledore softly. "I don't think it will be long before young Mr. Potter is back with us?" He looked at the mediwitch for confirmation.

"I think yes, Headmaster, but I'm afraid of the consequences. Nothing like this has happened before."

Ron groaned.

"It's not a lethal spell, and if Mr. Potter experiences any side effects, I am sure St. Mungo's will be able to handle it."

"Well! Isn't that reassuring, Mr. Weasley?" said the older wizard. "We will become aware of the situation in due time."

'Like we have already done so often. Poor Harry. So young and nevertheless...'

Harry was stunned that Dumbledore had said this last sentence but he was more when he heard his friend say after that, 'Reassuring my ass! I want you to open your eyes Harry. Forgive me.'

Harry felt himself again being snatched by the nothingness. His extremities were becoming heavier and he fell asleep again in turmoil of paradoxical thoughts.


As Harry opened his eyes, he was quite positive it was daytime. Did someone all of a sudden decide to turn the sun brighter? Putting a hand over his eyes, he heard someone squeal.


Between his fingers, Harry saw a dark form rush towards his bed. Suddenly, he found himself buried by an ocean of frizzy brown hair that smelled like green apples.

"Hermione" murmured Harry.

His voice was a little bit muffled due to the hair in his mouth. He cleared his throat and his friend gave him the glass full of water that Madame Pomfrey put on his night stand.

Harry drank avidly and looked at Hermione who had tears in her eyes.

"I've been so worried," she said, her lips trembling. "Crookshanks was the one who distracted Ron, and he's my pet... It's all my fault...."

"No 'Mione, it wasn't your fault" corrected Harry, shaking his head softly. "Everyone messes up on spells. And I'm still here, so everything's okay."

His friend hugged him again, and smiled.

"Madame Pomfrey said to call her as soon as you woke up, so I'll go get her. I'll stay outside the door until she's done, and if she agrees, we can both go to Gryffindor tower. Ron is waiting for is, and I told him to stay there. You have no idea how guilty he is."

Harry lowered his eyes. He had to have a talk with Ron.

"Hermione, how long have I been in here?"

"Two days."

"Two days?"

"Yeah, it's 6:30 in the afternoon on Wednesday. You've been unconscious the whole time."

"No, not really, at some point I heard Ron and Dumbledore talking ab..."

"Ah Mister Potter, finally awake! Miss Granger, you should have told me that my patient wasn't unconscious anymore!" exclaimed Madame Pomfrey, entering into the room.

"I was about to call you Madame. I'll be outside."

The mediwitch nodded affirmatively and Hermione winked at Harry. She mouthed to him that she'd be back soon.


"Well, apparently, you're fine Mister Potter," announced Madame Pomfrey. "As soon as you get dressed, you can return to your house. I'll inform the Headmaster. Please come back here if you notice anything unusual."

"All right Madame Pomfrey" said Harry, almost finished putting on his robes.

As he stepped outside the hospital wing, he saw Hermione, and gave her a quick smile.

The young woman was immediately reassured. If the tyrannical Madame Pomfrey had let her friend get out, it meant that he was fine. And Hermione, being the witch she was, began to tell Harry what had happened during the classes he had missed during this past two days.

At the corner of a corridor, they met Draco Malfoy and his two bodyguards, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

The young blond man's lips stretched instantaneously in an ironic and conceited smile.

'Oh Scarhead and Mudblood!'

"Oh Scarhead and Mudblood!" exclaimed Draco as his eyes were wandering on the two Gryffindors with disgust.

Harry looked at the Slytherin with wide-opened eyes. What was wrong with him at repeating twice the same thing as if they had not already heard?

"We're not deaf Malfoy, you don't need to repeat yourself."

Draco raised an eyebrow and Hermione glanced at her friend, frowning.

'What is he talking about? I'm not even gonna try to understand him, he's not worth my time. He's a Gryffindor'  thought Draco.

"Malfoy, you're the one who isn't worth anyone's time!" answered Harry furiously. "Come on Hermione, it's useless talking to them, they don't care anyways."

After having said these words, the young man took his friend's arm and dragged her away from the Slytherins.

'Grumpf' thought Crabbe.

'.......' thought Goyle.

'How did he know that I thought they weren't worth while?' wondered Malfoy. 'Oh I must have said it so much that he knows it now.' He sniggered ironically.

"Harry? Why did you say that to Malfoy?" asked Hermione who was almost running now to follow him. Harry was so angry that he didn't even notice he was walking faster.

"You heard everything he said, right?"

"Everything he said?" repeated the girl.


"But... But he has just said 'Oh Scarhead and Mudblood!'. He didn't say anything else."

The young man stopped walking suddenly and it was all she could do to not crash into him.

"You've heard as well as I did when he said that it was useless trying to understand us, didn't you?" asked him. His face was half puzzled, half worried.

"No" responded Hermione softly, worried too.

They looked at each other in a heavy silence, thinking the same thing.

"It's not possible" murmured Harry.

"Oh my God" said Hermione.

"Do you believe that...?" he asked without finishing his question.

"Can you read my mind?"

Harry stayed silent and concentrated himself while a few seconds. He was staring intently at the chocolate eyes that were in front of him and sighed, shaking his head negatively.

"Did you hear what Crabbe and Goyle were thinking?"

"No," answered Harry. "I've just heard Crabbe grumble."

"No, Harry, he didn't say anything. Only Malfoy spoke to us."

"What does that mean?" murmured the young man.

"I'm not sure" responded his friend.

"Hermione, if..."

"Well, well, well," hissed a cold voice that echoed in the corridor. "Potter? Finally awake or was it just a subterfuge to miss two days of class without receiving detentions?"

Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, stood in front of two of his students, in his usual black robes. And surprise, he was scowling and smiling viciously.

"No Professor, I didn't do it to miss two days of class," replied dryly Harry. "I just woke up and..."

'Merlin, that mouth!'

Harry froze and, completely stunned, noticed that his professor's pupils were slightly dilated although the corridor was relatively well lit. Professor Snape was staring intently at his lips.

"Very convenient Potter," retorted Snape sarcastically. "It just happened to be the day I gave the practise test of the NEWT Potions?"

"You could ask to Madame Pomfrey and to the Professor Dumbledore if you don't think I am telling you the truth..."

'And his tanned skin. It looks so soft.'

"No, Potter. Anyway, the Headmaster will talk to me about that. You still need to take your Potion's exam, however."

"All right Professor."

'Would you still be agreeing if I tore your robes off right here, and was stroking your beautiful body?'

Harry swallowed with difficulty and tried to prevent the blush that was threatening to invade his cheeks.

"Well, return to your common room. Potter, I'll inform you of the date for your test, tomorrow after the class."

'Leave now before I'll really tear off your clothes.'

Harry nodded and breathed deeply. He was stiffening more and more as his Professor kept on thinking.

'And this arse. Mmmmmm.'

Shocked, Harry turned himself rapidly towards his teacher and met his burning gaze. His cheeks slightly pink, Snape looked away quickly and tried to put a longer distance between himself and the Gryffindor.

However, Harry could still hear some of his Professor's thoughts.

'I hope he didn't see me looking at him like that... wanting him... Oh my god, that mouth! Mmmmm...'

"So Harry? Did you hear him?"

The young man turned his head towards his friend, his eyes and expression were speaking more than words.

"Oh poor Harry," murmured Hermione, taking him into an embrace. "I don't know what he was thinking, and I'm almost positive I don't want to."

'Me either' said Harry to himself but it was too late now, really.