Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or anything related to Harry Potter (how unfortunate), J.K. Rowling does.
A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been away and I've met a bit of writer's block, but you can have this to entertain you until I can write another chapter for Manners.
A/N2: Okay, so a lot of people pointed this out to me, I had said "You want Madame Pomphrey buggering you all night?"...oops. It's bugging. You knew what I meant.
I Mean You
It was Christmas Eve, and Harry had been sitting by the lake for hours now. It had started snowing a while ago, and Harry was becoming cold, but he didn't want to go inside. If he did, he would see everyone having a good time with his or her friends. Ron, Hermione, and almost all of the school had gone home for the holidays, leaving Harry to spend Christmas alone. Not that he minded. He'd rather spend it alone than to go home to the Dursleys.
He sighed. Ron had offered to let him stay at the Weasley's, but Harry didn't want to be around that many people. A nice Christmas with himself seemed rather inviting at the time. Now he wished he had at least one person to spend the holidays with, but everyone seemed to have someone already, leaving no room for him.
It was becoming dark, and Harry knew better than to stay out after sunset, Christmas or no Christmas, and plus, he was getting extremely cold. Shivering, he gathered himself up from his spot on the ground and started to make his way back up to the castle. The snow was falling harder now, and it was getting darker by the minute, so it was somewhat hard to see where he was going.
Through much struggle, as the snow had gotten deep, Harry made it back into the castle whole. His stomach was now growling, so he decided to stop by the Great Hall for a little food.
When he got there, he noticed that all of the House tables were gone, and the only table was an extended teacher's table. Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall were already seated there, along with two of the few students that had stayed for the holidays. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves greatly. Before Harry could change his mind about filling his stomach, Dumbledore waved at him to come over. Somewhat reluctantly, Harry walked up to the extended table.
"Have a seat, dear boy, we've been wondering where you were all day. Hopefully not getting in trouble?" Dumbledore said, smiling at Harry. Harry did as he was told and took a seat next to one of the students.
"No, sir, I was just out by the lake."
"All alone? But, Potter, it's Christmas Eve, you should be with your friends having fun." McGonagall said. Harry dished a little food onto his plate.
"They've all gone home. I just thought I'd have a quiet Christmas Eve."
"When you're around, Potter, nothing can be quiet." Said a sarcastic voice.
"Ah, Severus, glad to see you could join us. Take a seat, have some food, enjoy, enjoy." Snape glared at Dumbledore, but either he didn't see it, or he didn't mind.
"Erm…I think I'll go now, Professor, I'll see you tomorrow." Without waiting for a reply, Harry walked out of the Great Hall towards his dormitory. He could barely stand being around others, let alone Snape. He didn't want to hear the comments he'd get about not being with his friends, or not causing large amounts of trouble, or anything else the man could accuse Harry of. All that, and there was a new pounding sensation in his head, and whenever he moved his head around, the pounding increased. He just wanted to lie down. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the footsteps behind him.
"So, Potter, you're spending your Christmas Eve in your dormitory? Alone? I thought for sure that you'd be the one bouncing around the place, full of Christmas cheer." Harry jumped at the voice, making his head hurt even more. Slowly, he turned around to see his git of a potions professor.
"I'm just not really feeling up to it, sir, so if you don't mind, I'll be going to bed now." He tried to end the conversation quickly, but did not succeed.
"Wait a minute Potter, come here. You look pale enough to be a ghost." Was there a hint of concern in Snape's voice? No, that couldn't be, this was Severus Snape, the greasy git, Potter-hater extraordinaire. "Well, Potter? I said come here." It wasn't as if he had a choice. Harry moved to where Snape was standing. To his surprise, Snape moved his hand to Harry's forehead, feeling for his temperature. He scowled.
"I-is something wrong, sir?" Harry asked, tentatively.
"Potter, you have a fever. Honestly, can you not take care of yourself without someone watching you?"
"I-I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to-"
"No, no, don't apologize, just…come on, I'll get you a potion to clear your fever." Snape didn't want Dumbledore's Golden Boy getting sick for Christmas, even he wasn't that mean.
"But sir, I could just get it from the Hospital Wing…" Harry did not want to be with Snape any longer than he had to.
"You want Madame Pomphrey bugging you all night?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy.
"Well…when you put it that way…"
"Come on, Potter, I promise I won't poison you." Snape tried to reassure him.
"O-ok then." Harry's head was throbbing more than ever, and hoped Snape's potion could help him. Harry followed Snape down into the dungeons to his rooms. When Snape went inside, Harry hesitated by the doorway. He wasn't sure if he was allowed in or not.
"Potter! Are you coming or not?" Snape's loud voice caused Harry to flinch a little. He moved at fast as he could to catch up with Snape, doing his best to not aggravate his head even more. He was starting to get dizzy, and remembered he hadn't really eaten in the Great Hall, or for that matter, all day. With the pounding in his head and the dizziness, Harry felt too overwhelmed to move. Instead, just as Snape was coming back with the potion, Harry passed out, falling to the cold stone floor.
He was being gently shaken awake. No matter how gentle it was, the shaking still caused Harry's head to start throbbing instantly. He groaned and opened his eyes to see who had made him wake up. The light blinded him momentarily, and made his head hurt more.
"Potter, take this, it'll make you feel better." A phial was shoved into his hands, and Harry fumbled with it, trying to bring it to his mouth. He felt large hands cover his, helping him with the phial. He swallowed the sweet-tasting liquid that was poured out of it, and felt his head become a little clearer. His eyes had adjusted to the light and he saw Snape sitting next to him, with a strange look on his face. Then he looked around, and couldn't recognize where he was.
"Professor?" He croaked, Harry's throat seemed to have started to dysfunction, too.
"Yes, Potter?" Snape said, with an unrecognizable emotion in his voice. Harry thought it sounded like…worry? No, he must be mistaken.
"Where are we?"
"We are in my bedroom."
"When what?" Snape didn't understand Harry's question.
"When is it? What day?" He whispered, as to not hurt his throat.
"It is still Christmas Eve, Potter, you only passed out about an hour or so ago."
"I'm sorry for causing all of this trouble, sir. I'm going back to my dorm now." Harry didn't like being around Snape like this. Snape was being far too nice to him, Harry Potter, who Snape had shown nothing but hate for since he first came to Hogwarts. He knew it wasn't Christmas spirit. Snape didn't show Christmas spirit. He got up to leave and felt a new wave of dizziness wash over him. He had to sit back down, but he was still lightheaded.
"I don't think you can make it to your dorm tonight, Potter. You can sleep here." Snape gave a little smirk at Harry's predicament. He was going to sleep in the Head of Slytherin's rooms? No, no, no, that was not what a Gryffindor was supposed to do.
"I'm fine, professor." Harry gave Snape his best glare. To Harry's surprise, Snape laughed. Harry noticed that it was a rather nice laugh, and that he wanted to hear it again.
"Potter, that was the saddest excuse for a glare, and no, you are not 'fine', you need rest. You must have been out for too long today?" Snape was trying to help him. Not only that, he was trying to have a decent conversation with him. What was going on? Harry didn't know, but for some reason he liked it.
"Yeah…yeah I was outside by the lake for a while. I guess I stayed there too long."
"Obviously. Honestly, Potter, do you ever think about your health?" He handed Harry another phial. "For your head," he said as he gave it to him. Harry gulped the bittersweet potion down and felt his dizziness instantly disappear.
"Why didn't you give me this in the first place, sir?"
"Maybe I wanted some company," Snape said, looking away. Harry felt elated. Snape had actually wanted Harry in his presence.
"You could have asked, sir." Harry grinned.
"Yes, well, seeing as you're better now, you can return to your dorm," Snape said, with his usual curtness back in his voice. Harry was taken aback at the sudden change, but then he understood.
"But professor, it's Christmas Eve, no one should spend it alone." Harry said sheepishly. Snape looked at him, shocked at what Harry had just said.
"As I recall, Potter, you yourself were trying to spend it alone." When Harry didn't respond, Snape thought he had won.
"But you seemed happy just a little while ago…" Harry almost whispered.
"Well then I'll stay longer."
"No you will not! I will not have a Gryffindor, Harry Potter no less, in my rooms! I am Head of Slytherin, and my House would not take kindly to having you here!" Snape had stormed out of the room. Harry followed him, intending to fight back.
"You're the one who brought me here! You are the one who acted so nicely! You! And now you want me out because of what your precious Slytherins would say? I don't believe you!" Harry was getting angry. Why had Snape been so nice to him? Why did he care? It wasn't as if he liked Snape.
Harry stopped, frozen in place.
He liked Snape.
Snape had seen the abrupt change on Harry's face. It had gone from scrunched up with anger to a look of shock and realization.
"Potter, are you alright? You look as if you've just been slapped." Snape said, curtness hiding his worry.
"I'm going now, professor." And with that, Harry left Snape by himself and headed up towards his dorm. Now that he knew he liked Snape, he didn't think he could be around him without accidentally letting it slip out.
When he reached his dorm, he changed and lay down on his bed. He started thinking about what had gone on earlier. Why Snape? Because you know if he'd drop the cold attitude, he'd be rather attractive. You found that out tonight. Shut up. It's true.
Harry knew it was true, but he didn't know what to do about it. Should he tell Snape he liked him? Then he remembered tomorrow was Christmas, and knew what to do. He was going to give Snape a gift. But what could Harry get him? He couldn't buy something now because it was too late. Then it hit him: he was going to write a poem for Snape, anonymously, of course.
Harry stayed up for most of the night trying to write his poem. By early morning he had finished and was ready to go to the owlery. He was going to get a school owl to deliver it, so Snape wouldn't know if a person inside or outside of the castle gave it to him.
At breakfast, Harry waited impatiently for the owls to arrive. He kept fidgeting in his seat at the extended teacher's table. He couldn't eat. Snape was on the other side of the table, and every so often, Harry would steal a glance his way.
Finally, the owls started flooding in. A small tawny one landed next to Snape. Harry saw Snape untie the parchment on which Harry's poem was written. Snape unfolded the parchment and began reading it. Harry could see his eyes widen as Snape read the poem.
When Snape finished it, he stuffed it into his robes and hastily got up to leave. Before he left the table, he shot Harry a strange look, one that Harry couldn't recognize, and swiftly fled the Great Hall. Harry got up to follow him, but was stopped by Dumbledore.
"Merry Christmas, Harry. I wish for you to join me in my office for a moment." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling with a glint of knowing.
Harry followed Dumbledore to his office and sat down in the chair opposite his desk.
"No, thank you, professor." Harry was fiddling with his hands.
"I noticed you were absorbed in our Professor Snape this morning, Harry. I also assume that the letter he was reading was from you?" Dumbledore smiled.
"Erm…yes, professor. I sent it to him." Harry was turning a bit red.
"I thought you didn't like Professor Snape?"
"I thought that, too, until recently, sir. And plus, everyone deserves something on Christmas." Harry was turning redder.
"I see. And what made you think differently of him?"
"Well, sir, I was sick yesterday, and Snape gave a potion to me to cure me, and we ended up spending some time together, and I found that he really isn't so bad." Harry knew what this was leading to, and wanted to leave.
"And so," Dumbledore paused, "you are fond of him now?"
"How did you know?" Harry was astonished that Dumbledore had caught on so quickly.
"I didn't. You just confirmed a suspicion." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes got stronger. Harry wanted to slap himself.
"You won't tell, will you?"
Dumbledore just smiled.
"I think you have some holiday homework to finish? I'll see you later, Harry."
"Are you going to tell?"
"Homework, Harry," was all Dumbledore said, before ushering Harry out of his office.
Instead of doing his homework, Harry went outside again for a walk. He had been out for around an hour when he felt someone's hands on his shoulders.
"You really don't care about you health. It's much too cold to be out here, Potter." Harry stiffened at the voice. He turned around to see Snape standing mere inches from himself.
"I-I wasn't thinking—"
"You never seem to think, do you?" Snape smiled at him. Harry's heart was racing. He looked away.
Snape grabbed his chin and brought Harry to face him. Harry looked into Snape's eyes and saw something startling. Snape didn't have a cold, mean, angry, or even happy look in his eyes. He saw nervousness. Why was Snape nervous?
"Harry," Snape started, but it looked as if he couldn't finish. Harry realized Snape had called him by his first name, and, to his horror, blushed.
There was a long pause before Harry said, "Yes, professor?" He wanted to know what Snape had to say.
"I'm sorry for the way I acted last night. I was frustrated; I shouldn't have said those things. I didn't mean it." He was looking straight into Harry's eyes.
"A certain somebody has been making me feel rather out of disposition lately." Harry felt his heart drop. He knew Snape didn't mean him.
"Oh," was all Harry could manage. He broke eye contact with Snape.
Snape saw the defeated look on Harry's face.
"Potter…Harry, I mean you." Harry's eyes snapped up at this statement. He could feel his blush deepen. "I like you, Harry," he continued, "and when I got that letter this morning, I didn't know what to do. It was obviously from you, I know your handwriting by now," Harry inwardly smacked himself at this, he should have known.
"I forgot about that." Harry said, still smacking himself.
"You are hopeless, Harry." Snape smirked at him.
"No, I'm no— " Harry was cut off. He felt soft lips press gently against his, and then pull back. Snape looked into his eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Harry," he said and kissed Harry again.
So was it ok?