Welcome to The Love Affairs of H.J. Potter. This is (or will be) a collection of one shots dedicated to the love life of our dear Harry James Potter. Each story stands alone, genres, story length and pairings will vary. Both heterosexual and homosexual pairings will be included. Suggestions are more than welcome, though I cannot and will not promise anything. Feel free to read any story that interests you and please review, but be warned that any flames for 'slash' pairings or even just for a heterosexual ship you don't like will be promptly deleted. I'm going to try my best to fluctuate between slash and heterosexual pairings such that every odd numbered story will be slash and every even numbered story will be het. I don't promise that I'll be able to keep that up, but I'll try.
All stories will be rated T due to a liking for swear words on my part.
I truly hate you: A Severus x Harry story
Really he ought to be used to the darkness. He should be comfortable in the dark, in the damp and the cold. But the truth was that despite everything Severus Snape was still human, and he had a craving for warm days with bright sunshine and, yes, even the laughter of sugar filled children.
It was incompatible with his nature, of course. Even his friends – of which he could only claim to have two – would stop and stare at him if he were to share the sentiment. Albus would no doubt twinkle in his infuriating manner and Minerva would probably drag him to see Poppy, just be certain that he was "quite alright."
Severus occasionally wondered what it said about him that his only friends were, respectively, old enough to be his great grandfather and his mother.
That said, a desire for the light and the outdoors rarely translated to actually leaving his dungeons. His potions were in his dungeons and if Severus had one true love in his life, it was potions. Severus was a sarcastic, brittle and bitter man, and his reputation as the bat of the dungeons was something of a point of pride. But he could escape into the potions. There was nothing but him and the subtle, engaging power that crept through him like a drug. His annual tirade to the first year classes was no exaggeration. He really could put a stopper in death itself, and if that wasn't as close as one could get to ultimate power it was at least close enough.
Oddly the teaching was nearly as good. There was nothing quite like being in a position to mold the minds of upcoming generation of wizards and witches. And if Severus occasionally felt strongly about his duty, or, Merlin forbid, allowed himself to care for the brats then there was really no one around to know except Severus himself.
Though, he really did wish that Albus would stop giving him those looks, the ones that said that he knew and found the whole thing entirely too amusing. The old man had been doing entirely too much twinkling as of late and a rather disturbing amount of it was directed at Severus.
Just earlier the bastard had twinkled at him as he walked by and oh so casually mentioned that he believed Professor Potter had the right idea by getting outside and going for a flight. He'd bemoaned his old age, as if anything could keep Albus Dumbledore from doing what he wished. Severus had sneered and made some suitably caustic remark.
But he'd also redirected his footsteps outside.
And that had absolutely nothing to do with the opportunity to watch Professor Harry Potter (Professor! What had Albus been thinking?) in his natural element. Really, Albus' words had simply reminded him that for once he had nothing brewing in his dungeons, and with no other obligations he was free to go terrorize students during their off time. On a day like today, that meant going outside.
Even now, watching as Potter made a ludicrous spectacle of himself in front of cheering students, Severus firmly told himself that he was there to make sure things didn't get out of hand and to hand out appropriate punishments when they inevitably did. He was certainly not there to appreciate the glow of joy on Potter's face, nor was he there to glare threateningly at the students (both female and male) who dared to gaze at their Professor with more than the acceptable amount of adoration in their eyes.
Still, Severus watched and brooded as Potter did flips and dives and any number of other dangerous maneuvers. Potter was an incredible flyer; even Severus could – reluctantly – admit that. Time had only made the younger man better, and the ending of the war had seen a release of tension in Potter that showed best in his flying. Where he had been all sharp corners and quick agility he was now almost graceful. If a person where fanciful they could imagine that they were watching Potter perform some sort of aerial dance.
Severus hated that Potter invariably drew his eye with that dance.
Over the years he had hated Potter for a lot of reasons. He had hated him for being James Potter's son. Had hated him for having Lily's eyes. Hated him for being an ignorant child. Hated him for having power and not enough care to use it.
But mostly Severus hated Harry James Potter because he was incorruptible. Because even beaten, abused, shunned, hunted and hated, Potter shone as bright as the sun. And Severus, whose life had been neither worse nor better, had fallen. And that fall would stain him forever.
Potter jumped off his broom, a wide smile on his face and a bright shine in his eyes.
"Severus!" he called, jogging over to him, the smile widening and softening just the tiniest bit.
And Severus hated him for that too. For being able to put the past aside, for being able to let go of the hate when he himself was still swimming in it.
"Potter," he replied. "If I could take points away from professors for your ridiculous stunts I would."
Potter, blast him, just laughed. Like Severus was joking, like Potter's death defying stunts weren't stupidly dangerous and didn't nearly give Severus heart attacks.
Severus ruthlessly pushed that thought aside.
"I'll have to bring it up with Albus next staff meeting," Potter said.
Severus made a non-committal noise, knowing very well that Potter would do no such thing. Albus would take the suggestion all too seriously for any of their comfort, and if there was one thing he and Potter could agree on it was that encouraging the Headmaster was foolish.
The pair casually wound their way through milling students, attracting incredulous looks and openly curious stares. Severus made a point of glaring, but Potter's easy smile was undoing his hard work.
"You look idiotic, Potter."
Potter laughed again, and Severus barely refrained from smirking at him. Instead he crinkled his nose and gave his companion a contemptuous once over. "You look like you've been mucking out Hippogriff stalls." It was a lie, of course. Potter looked enjoyably windswept and his emerald eyes were alight with a glee that drew you in. Truth wasn't about to stop the Potions Master. "You smell like it too. Be sure to get a shower before joining the head table at supper. I would rather not be subject to your fermenting sweat."
But Potter just grinned wickedly at him, a strange spark in his gaze. "Care to join me, Severus?"
Severus jolted to a stop mid-step and spluttered.
Potter's grin turned positively predatory, causing Severus to take an involuntary step back. Severus gave the young man his best glare to make up for it.
"I truly hate you, Potter."
And Harry smirked and shook his head. "You keep telling yourself that, Severus." With that parting comment he turned and took off.
Severus stared after him, wondering just when fate had signed off on his doom.