Being In a Cabin With You is Like Being Locked in a Closet With a Hippo
Half an Hour
"I blame you for this." Harry said suddenly, cradling his hot chocolate in his palms, rolling the mug back and forth. Snape glanced up from his novel, raising a single eyebrow. "I blame you for all of this. What kind of field trip goes into the mountains?"
"The kind that requires special ingredients foraged from said mountains." Snape replied dully, turning a worn yellow page, black eyes roving back and forth over it. Harry shot him a dirty glare and flopped back onto the hand woven rug, watching Snape upside down, as though changing his perspective would change the situation.
"More importantly, why did I have to come with you?"
This time, Snape didn't spare him a glance. "Because one of your lesson plans included those special ingredients."
Harry hissed out a curse, for agreeing to come, for stupid lesson plans, for stupid sudden blizzards. He turned on his side, watching the blizzard out side the cabin window howl and twist, snow sticking to the glass in clumps, before sliding down to join the ever growing pile of snow on the ledge. It was going to be a very long night.
1 hour and ten minutes
Three mugs of hot chocolate later, all graciously made by Snape, Harry felt like his brains were slowly melting out through his ears, and seeping into the fabric of the carpet. He felt like a vegetable, laying still and staring between the fire, the blizzard, and Snape.
"Stop looking at me like that." Snape murmured, flipping another stupid page of his stupid book and looking like a bloody stupid librarian. Harry grumbled wordlessly and rolled onto his stomach, forehead pressed to the rug. It smelled like smoke and pine. Possibly even brains, if Harry was so lucky. And he really was going insane.
Rather than find something to talk about, Harry crawled up onto the sofa with Snape, his black hair tickling his cheek as he peered over his shoulder to look at the words in the book. He was greeted with an elaborate depiction of a Liopleurodon and it's uses in various potions, "you're such a nerd." Harry said finally, flopping back to the carpet when he'd finished studying the vampire picture on the next page.
"No more hot chocolate for you." Snape returned simply, and flipped another bloody page casually.
"I think I'm starting to go insane." Harry grumbled, fingers playing in the soft surface of the rug, debating on whether or not he should count every spec on the well worn fabric, or get up and find something more interesting to do.
"You and I both." Snape supplied evenly. He'd nearly finished his third novel, the other two beside him on the sofa cushion, spines looking weary and dull. Harry considered, just for a moment, reading them. Then he realized that Snape had barely been able to make him read as a student. Why should he start now as a professor?
He settled instead with rolling listlessly on the carpet and grumbling, counting the notches in the beams of the roof, and watching the snow fall harder as best he could through the layer of ice coating the glass. "Entertain me." he whined.
Snape just snorted, and flipped another page.
3 and a half hours
"Let's play a game." Harry suggested, looking up at Snape coyly.
"Please. I spy or Hide and Seek or something. Anything. I think I'm honestly going to die. I'm fading so fast. I feel weak. Faint. I see the light. Mom. Dad? I'm com-"
"Oh alright. What do you want to play, Potter, seeing as you can't sit still for even a moment." Snape sighed, snapping his book shut to fix him with an indescribable look, half way between bemusement and annoyance.
Harry smiled impishly, as though he'd already won a secret game that Snape hadn't even been aware of. "We can play Truth or Dare." Glittering black eyes narrowed at him in obvious suspicion, and Harry tried to school his face into a less devious expression. Snape's eyes only narrowed further. "You go first. Truth or Dare?"
Snape frowned and mulled it over. "Truth."
Harry had two options. He could ask a truly terrible question, just because any chance to learn about Snape's deepest, darkest secrets were best taken when presented, because they would never occur again. Or he could screw that and do something a little more…playful.
He went with the more fun option.
"Too bad, I dare you to kiss me." He was on Snape's lap in a moment, lips pressed tightly together, fingers buried in sleek black hair. Snape's hands rested on his back, before sliding down to his hips, rubbing gentle circles over his wool sweater. It took them a long sweet moment to break apart, and when they did, Harry was smiling deviously.
"We probably shouldn't be doing this right now." Snape said thoughtfully, nails grazing the soft skin of Harry's tummy beneath his sweater.
"Shut up. We have all night, and then some."