Disclaimer: I had a dream once that I owned Harry Potter. And then…I woke up.
Written for the 3 AM challenge by Macceh.
A/N: This takes place after Harry gets the memory from Slughorn and when he is on his way up to see Dumbledore. Harry is still under the influence of the Felix Felicis potion.
Harry felt a sudden tug in his stomach, pulling him away from the path towards Dumbledore's office and off in an unknown direction. Harry couldn't give any other reason for why he was walking down this dim hallway, that he thought looked familiar but couldn't really tell because of the dark, other than that it felt right. Suddenly, it occurred to him just where he was going.
He was going to see Snape! At three in the morning! …That's a good idea.
Well, to Harry's potion altered mine, it was. In fact, in a detached way, Harry was amazed the potion was still working, after all, it had been who knows how many hours it had been since he'd taken it.
The small logical part of Harry in the back of his head was commenting on how Harry should go see Dumbledore and forget Snape because why was he going to go see Snape and what would he get out of it besides a detention? But that small voice was drowned out by the overwhelming need to go talk to Snape. Right. Now.
Slowly, as he walked, a problem and a topic of conversation formed in Harry's mind. Harry let out a small laugh as he stopped in front of Snape's chambers; now, he and Snape could finally work things out, and he could stop failing Potion's. After all, Harry had Felix on his side; only good could come from this. …Right?
Snape had known something was going to happen this night, but he hadn't known just what it was. Just the other day, Snape had mentioned today's date in class, and Draco had visibly flinched. So he had known something would happen.
However, had he expected to get woken up at three in the morning by none other than Harry Potter, resident bane of his existence?
"Potter." Snape put as much contempt as possible into that one word. "What are you doing at my rooms?"
Harry didn't even bat an eye, even in the face of Snape's most menacing glare. "I'm here because I have a problem I need your help with, sir."
Snape looked thrown for a loop, though whether at having a student ask for his help or being called "sir" by his least favorite underage nemesis, Harry did not know. Snape seemed to think for a while.
On the one hand, he could just give Potter detention here and now for being out of bed and then go back to sleep. But then, at the next staff meeting, Dumbledore would no doubt lecture him for not helping a student in need. On the other hand, though, if he listened to Potter's problem, then he could still give the brat detention and satisfy Dumbledore.
"What is your…problem?" Snape ground out, glare still going full blast.
Harry looked around, unfazed. "Aren't you going to let me in?"
"Okay, pushing it, sorry." Harry put his hands up in surrender before leaning on the door frame, much to Snape's displeasure. "I wanted to talk to you about my Potions grade."
Snape's eyes widened in surprise and disgust, but mostly surprise. "Do you really think three in the morning is the appropriate time to be discussing this?" he asked tiredly.
Harry nodded his head firmly. "Yes, you see; I was in my bed trying to get to sleep earlier this night, when my mind suddenly turned to my grades."
"Of course it did," Snape muttered under his breath. He could practically feel his migraine growing larger by the second.
Harry ignored him. "So I'm in bed, thinking about why I'm doing so badly in Potions class. Now, from various potions work that Mione's been making me do during my free time because she seems I'm not 'reaching my full potential,' – whatever that means – I learned something rather surprising."
Snape snorted; he felt Potter was reaching his potential just fine.
Harry heard said snort, and a knowing smile overcame his face as he shook his head and wagged his finger at Snape, taking on an air of mild disappointment. "I heard that scoff, Professor; you don't think I can do any better at Potions than I have been in your class, correct?"
Snape shrugged. He wasn't ashamed to say it. Potter was detrimental at Potions.
Harry smirked and made a tsking sound at Snape. "Ahh, but you see, Hermione was, as she most often is, right." Snape raised an eyebrow. "No, really. She had me brew three potions, two of which I had failed to make in your class, and… they came out perfect. Mione didn't even help me!"
Snape actually let out a snort of laughter in outright belief. That, he just could not believe.
Harry ignored him once again. "So then I began to wonder. Why was it that I could make potions outside of your class but not in it?"
"Because you lack the number of brain cells necessary to function at anything other than the most basic capacity?"
"No, but excellent guess, by dear Professor," Harry exclaimed cheerfully, shouldering past Snape, who seemed stunned and disgusted beyond belief at being called "dear" by Harry.
Harry took a quick glance around the room before flopping onto an old black coach. "Not a bad place you've got here. What is this, leather? Nice."
Snape broke out of his momentary paralysis and turned towards Harry. "What are you doing? Get out of my room before you contaminate something with your stupidity!"
"Are you sure this isn't leather?" Harry asked curiously, lounging comfortably on the couch and ignoring Snape's command.
"No, it's not!" Snape ground out between gritted teeth.
And I don't want you touching my things! Get out; you might –"
"Pleather?" Harry asked, still feeling around the couch.
Snape stopped mid glare as he stood next to Harry, who was still on the couch, seeming to want nothing more than to pull the boy off his couch but also seeming not to want to touch him.
"What?" He had no idea what the boy was talking about.
"The couch – is it Pleather?"
"Wha–? No, it's not ple– just, just get out." Snape was at his wits end.
"No can do," Harry said, sinking into the couch even further. "Anyways, we're getting off– why don't you have a seat? – We're getting off topic," Harry said in one breath, gesturing to the other half of Snape's extremely comfortable couch.
Snape looked at the couch as if he would rather sit on poison ivy and moved to sit on an intricate metal chair opposite the couch, realizing that Potter was never going to leave unless Snape let him finish whatever it was he was trying to say.
"Just… just get on with it, Potter."
Harry smiled cheekily. "Okay, then! So then I wondered; was it the atmosphere of the class room? No, it couldn't be because there are plenty of people passing your class. So then I thought; do you just hate kids in general? No, once again, plenty of people are passing your class. So was it just you're great dislike of Gryffindors? – Don't bother trying to hide it; we all know you really don't like us for no conceivable reason whatsoever."
Snape smirked; when had he ever tried to hide it? "You're Gryffindors, stupid and brave to the point of being suicidal – what more reason do I need?"
"So, like I said, for no conceivable reason whatsoever. Anyways, that was out because Hermione's still at the top of your class."
Snape nodded; it was infuriating how, despite his best attempts, Granger still came out best in her year.
"So then I thought; was it just our personal teacher-student relationship? And then I realized that it was just that, that you just hate me that much. And why do you hate me that much? Because of whom my father is."
Snape shrugged. Now the brat was just repeating things they both knew. "If that's all you came to say, Potter, you can just g–"
"No, I'm not done," Harry interrupted, feeling a spark of anger for the first time. Felix didn't like Snape fighting against him. (Was it a him? Harry thought it was.) "So then I wondered; why did your hatred towards my dad become your hatred towards me? Because frankly, that's just stupid. Was it because I looked like him? Was it because I sound like him? Then I realized what our true problem was."
"Oh, and what is it then?" Snape asked mockingly. Gosh, he just wanted Potter to be gone.
"Lack of communication."
"…What?" Snape stared; had he just heard the nuisance right?
"Yes," Harry continued, proud of his revelation. "Lack of communication, the bane of every relationship."
Snape, despite himself, looked mildly grossed out by this. Harry, realizing the man's pattern of thinking, made a face as well.
"No, not that kind of relationship. Frankly, that'd just be plain wrong, not to mention illegal at this point in my life." Harry suddenly looked to his right, as if staring into a tv camera. "Sorry, fan girls."
"Who are you talking–"
"Anyways," Harry cheerfully cut Snape off once more. "It's lack of communication that's making it so hard for us to have a relationship – for you to stop hating me."
"Really," Snape sneered, a sinking feeling in his stomach that things were about to get… emotional soon. "How so?"
"You see," Harry continued, undeterred by Snape's attitude, "Because we fail to communicate, to get to know each other, when you look at me, all you see is my father, whom you hate. We can't communicate at all, so you never see me for who I am; or even just see how much I'm not like my father and more like my mother. So, you just end up hating me; you can't help it."
Harry pulled his feet up under him and leaned forward, a smug and satisfied smile on his face. Snape just looked stunned. Had Potter just… made a logical argument? He'd just made sense? Snape's eyes narrowed. Maybe the boy did have some Lily in him.
"So," Harry leaned forward even more, putting his chin in his hands and elbows on his knees. "What's your favorite color?"
Snape raised an eyebrow. Would Potter ever start making sense? "What are you doing?"
"Communicating. Now, what's your favorite color?"
Snape sighed in exasperation. "…Green."
"Favorite animal?" Harry asked, eyes wide with interest.
"That's…disturbing." Harry said, slowly edging back in his seat when he saw Snape's smirk. "Professor!" Harry sighed. "C'mon, take this seriously."
"Who says I'm not taking this seriously, Potter?" Snape said blandly. Maybe he could get Potter to leave in time for him to get another hour or two of sleep.
"Well, I certainly hope you're weren't taking that last question seriously," Harry muttered beneath his breath.
This time, it was Snape's turn to ignore Harry. "What is the point of this foolishness, anyways?"
"I swear, Potter, I don't care if you're my student; if you say 'communication' one more time, I will find a way to poison you between now and lunch," Snape threatened.
"I'm trying to deepen out relationship by finding something to base it on." If it was possible to roll your eyes using your tone of voice alone, Harry succeeded.
"Meaning?" Snape growled in annoyance. Well, hissed would probably be more appropriate, but still.
Harry sighed again; he could feel Felix beginning to wear off and wanted to finish this soon. "The basis to a relationship, what keeps a relationship going, is something the two people have in common. Even if it is just one small thing, it can keep people together for years. I'm trying to find something we have in common that I can use to stabilize our relationship."
Snape just raised an eyebrow, and Harry sighed again. He was doing that a lot. "It's like, let's say you like the sun. I know, just pretend for a little while."
Snape growled again. "Contrary to what you and your classmates may believe, Potter, I do not have an aversion to the sun. And you can go ahead and tell Longbottom that I am not a vampire."
Harry blinked dubiously. "Whatever you say, Sir. Anyways, so you like the sun. Let's say I like the sun – we both like the sun. So we can have a sun-based relationship. We could have picnics in the middle of the sun scorched desert or hold rallies against sun block and hats and things of that sort.
"Or," Harry continued, taking the look on Snape's face as confusion, "Let's say that you like… desks. I like desks. We could hold parties on top of desks – not that kind of party, though." Harry turned to look at an invisible camera again. "Sorry, fan girls."
"Who are you–?"
"And then," Harry continued, really beginning to get into it, "We could take our love for desks even further."
"From that, let's say that I discover you like office supplies."
"You like office supplies? I like office supplies."
"Potter! Shut up!"
Harry stopped where he was actively using his hands to demonstrate the properties of office supplies. "Yes, professor?"
"Just get on with whatever it is you came here to do," Snape sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. He still wasn't entirely sure why Potter had felt the need to wake him up in the middle of the night to talk about useless things.
Harry opened his mouth to speak when, suddenly, the picture of a lily appeared in his mind's eye. Barely conscious of the fact that he was waving his hand, Harry reached up and conjured a single white lily. Both Snape and Harry looked startled by the action.
Harry stared down at the flow for a few seconds. What was Felix trying to… Oh. Harry smiled to himself before looking up at Snape and holding out the flower.
"What about Lily? Can we base our relationship on her?"
Snape looked down at the outstretched flower and then at Harry in shock.
"You were friends with her once, right?" Harry continued hopefully.
Snape snorted mentally as he carefully took the lily from Potter. "You could say that."
Either Harry didn't notice the sarcasm in that statement, or he ignored it. "Then do you think you could look past how much you hated my dad to how much you liked my mum?"
Snape stared down at the beautiful flower before looking up into Harry's startling green eyes. Lily's eyes. Then, for some reason, he looked away, unable to looked the boy in the eye. It was the glint of the torches reflecting off of Potter's glasses, Darnit! Suddenly, Snape felt a pang of indignation.
The boy was playing on Snape's heartstrings, manipulating Snape's unresolved feelings for Lily for his own gain! …Maybe he did have a little bit of Lily in him after all; she had always told him that the hat had come close to putting her in Slytherin. Should he give the brat a chance… if only for her?
Snape sighed and slumped back in his chair. "Very well, Potter."
Harry looked up excitedly. "You mean you'll give me a chance in class?"
"Yes, I'll give you a chance in class, Potter," Snape said, defeated.
Harry resisted the urge to let out a whoop of joy (barely) and jumped out of his seat instead. He also refrained form trying to give Snape a hug and instead just held out his hand, which Snape warily shook. Well, it was a start.
Harry dashed over to the door and left before the potion's master could change his mind, calling over his shoulder, "Thanks Professor! And call me Harry!"
Snape just slumped in his chair, wondering vaguely if there was any firewhiskey left in one of his cabinets. Thank God for silence.
Harry walked down the hallway and up to his dorm tiredly, all effects of Felix Felicis worn off. He wondered distantly why the hallway was full of the forms of fallen death eaters and a few aurors, but eventually, he decided he really didn't care all that much anyways and went to bed.
When Harry woke up, the school was full of gossip over the last night's death eater attack. Somehow, death eaters had gotten into the school without breaching the wards, and no one knew how. Luckily, though, Dumbledore, who had been as strong as ever thanks to restful sleep for most of the night, and several Order members patrolling the school, as well as most of the teachers (Snape not among them) were able to defeat the oncoming threat.
Still, it was apparent this attack was an inside job, and people were actively arguing over who the culprit was. Even Ron and Hermione were talking animatedly about who it could have been from the moment Harry woke up.
Harry tried to tune the two out as they walked down to breakfast; no sleep the night before and a nasty hangover that Slughorn had failed to mention was a side-effect of Felix Felicis added to an arguing Ron and Hermione did not a happy Harry make.
"…bet it was Draco! Harry agrees with me, don't you, Harry?"
Harry blinked at being brought so suddenly into the conversation when he noticed Snape walking towards them. "Good morning, Professor," Harry said, much to Ron's outright shock and Hermione's confusion.
Snape looked at Harry for a few seconds before briskly brushing past him and continuing on to wherever it was he was going. "…Harry."
Harry smiled at the greeting and kept walking, while Ron spluttered in disbelief, and Hermione looked perplexed. "Harry… Harry!" Ron ran from where he had stopped in shock to catch up with Harry. "I bet it was Snape!"
Harry couldn't help it; he just started laughing. He was laughing so hard that he had to stop and lean against the wall to control himself. "Don't be ridiculous, Ron. It wasn't Snape."
"How do you know?" came Ron's indignant reply. Hermione looked at Harry eagerly, waiting to find out what had made him answer Ron so atypically. Normally, Harry would have jumped at the chance to accuse Snape of something.
Harry laughed again. "Because I was with him all night." Harry grinned and walked past a frozen Ron, a strangely excited looking Hermione following in his wake.
Ron broke free of his temporary paralysis and trailed slowly after Harry, calling, "Harry? Harry? What do you mean? Why were you with Snape all night?"
Harry just smirked. "We were deepening our relationship."
"Harry! Harry! Deepening your relationship how?
Harry just smiled and kept walking.
A/N: (1) It's a really powerful love potion. That's why it's disturbing Harry.
Anyways, written for the 3 AM challenge; I how you liked it. Sorry if it's a little rough, though; my sister didn't have time to beta.
(P.S. Don't forget to press the little button entitled "Review.")