Harry was frustrated, beyond it if he was honest. He didn’t even want to be apart of this monstrosity but here he was, as the fourth champion – he thought it was against the rules but being Harry Potter, most things tend to go that way. Now he had the heels of his palms dug deep into his eye lids, ready to blind himself. His glasses somewhere in the mist of his hair, he didn’t care at the moment.
A broken breath slipped his lips as he tried to get his head back under control. His head was throbbing, and the pumping of the music wasn’t helping in any way. Even if it was the smooth rhythm of a waltz that was supposed to take place when the dance was coming to a close. The four champions had to finish it with a closing dance. That was the last thing that Harry had wanted to do, especially at the current moment.
He heard a commotion coming from the far end of the hallway, that briefly startled him. He was in a small broom closet, it was more than that, he supposes. But it was a ten by ten-foot room with shelves that stored bottles of who knows what in them. Harry looked around, trying to control his elevated heart rate. It had been a long night, with Ron already been yelled at by Hermione to head up to bed. Harry was actually hiding from her, waiting it out. Hoping she had trudged off to bed and the teachers had scurried off as well.
The door swung open, briefly blinding Harry from the glowing light. He peered upwards to make out who was interrupting his mental break down. ‘And why couldn’t I have just gone to bed, cast a few charms to silence myself before I had this break down?’ And of course, who else could it be to catch Harry in a compromising position. None other than his potions professor and shortly realised crush. Hell, crush of the century if Harry ever knew it.
It had only come to life after the first task, when Snape had wished him luck before hand and came up with burn ointment of his own concoction after the retrieving the egg from the dragon. It slapped Harry in the face, to say the least. And he wasn’t too happy about it. Harry hadn’t known it before, and he hoped that he hadn’t misread anything by Snape’s intentions.
With a raised eyebrow, “why are you in a broom closet, Mr. Potter?”
Harry grimaced as he looked around him, he really was in a broom closet. Now that he brought a closer attention to it, it did have a tangy smell to it that was laced with lemon scented cleaning supplies. When one lived in his family’s cupboard for majority of his life, one learns to block certain things out of his mind.
Trying to turn a statement into a joke, it fell flat. “Dancing with myself.” He spoke, deadpanned.
Snape’s eyebrow’s scrunched together. “And why, pray tell, are you doing that?” Harry didn’t hear the mocking tone of his voice, that he normally had in class.
“Because the person I want to dance with, isn’t able to.” He muttered, realising in that moment how resentful he had been. Harry kept his eyes trained to Snape’s feet.
“Oh, I’m sure any of the girls out there are more than happy to dance with the chosen one.” It was supposed to be a hurtful jab, but Harry heard the underline tone of his words. There was jealousy there.
“It’s…” He stopped before he could make a fool of himself.
When Harry looked up, the light at the end of Snape’s wand was pointing somewhere behind him. He was looking left and right before he lowered his wand – the light going out. He moved forward, Harry instinctively taken a step backwards to give more room.
Snape closed the door.
Snape had closed the door. Harry blanched at his professor; his mouth wide open. When he looked back to Harry, “close your mouth boy.” It was hushed.
Harry snapped his mouth shut. “You… You…” He sputtered.
“Yes me.” He rolled his eyes.
“What are you doing?” Harry couldn’t help but ask, because come on, he was a teacher and Harry surely had been reading whatever wrongly.
“What does it look like, Mr. Potter?” He rose an eyebrow.
There was a light inside the room, it was poorly lite. Barely bright enough to see the full expressions that Snape conveyed, but enough to see the general mood.
“You have the last dance of the ball, being champion. Don’t you?” He asked.
Harry couldn’t speak.
“Or was I mistaken.” There was an underlining concern there, a vulnerability that Harry swore he could hear in his voice. As if he had read Harry wrong. That had been far from the truth.
“You weren’t mistaken.” He squeaked out. Barely able to catch his breath.
Snape slid his wand into the lining of his robes, Harry wasn’t really sure where he had hidden it in all the cloth that Snape covered his body with. Harry was frozen in his spot as he watched the potion master take up position, in the middle of the room. “Come here, Mr. Potter.” He still spoke softly. Harry followed his command without word. Taking the few steps to stand a breath away from Snape. It was barely a few inches. Far closer than he had ever been with a dance partner. Snape slide his hand to Harry’s waist, causing Harry’s breath to hitch. He looked down at Harry, “it’s a one, two, three step. Nothing like what you have been taught by Minerva.” Harry could feel his hot breath glid along his cheek. Shivers running down his spine.
Harry placed his hands along Snapes shoulders, they were sweaty. Snape commented on them, as Harry blushed at what was said.
Snape placed his other hand on Harry’s lower back, pulling him closer. “This one is a more intimate dance.” He whispered, his head resting beside Harry’s. Just at the temple. Harry relished in it, smiling inwardly at the warmth that he could feel coming from the other body. “Don’t step on my toes, or I will make you go back to the main hall to make your final appearance.” He warned, causing Harry to freeze.
“I have to warn you now, I’m shite at dancing.”
“Then call that incentive to not step on my toes.” Harry could hear the smile in his voice. He had never known Snape to smile, there was always a smirk after a nasty comment that had been said or when he had proven something over the DADA teachers in the past. But not anything like this. Harry only wished he could see it now, only hoping not to break the connection they were in now.
They stood there; Harry wasn’t sure what they were waiting for until he heard the last note of the song that was playing in the other room. It was adjacent from where they were now, and Harry was surprised it had taken as long as it had for someone to find him before Snape had stumbled upon him.
When Harry heard the first notes of the new song play, it was a softer melody. Soothing, that was meant for a waltz or a slow dance. Snape started to move, Harry following, his feet not as confident as Snape’s. What had only been months barely practicing, seemed to be years for Snape.
They twirled in their little space; movement still confide in the small room but felt like they were in the Great Hall. Moving through the room with practice easy, following the other with each step. A rhythm that they bounced off the other, reaching the crescendo before it started slowing down.
Harry steps were becoming misguided with the new step taken. Snape had added a twirl that caused Harry head to sway a bit. Stumbling to get back to his companion in the flowing movement. His robes swooshing around them with every turn.
On the last twirl Harry had done, he was dizzy. Stumbling more now, before slamming against Snape’s chest. His feet slapping against the others, as he tried to centre himself. There was a grunt, teeth gritting. Harry held on tight, embracing the man in his arms, not wanting to let go of him. “Don’t make me go out there.” He whispered into the man’s chest.
He could feel the chuckle, that felt like honey to his ears. Harry felt arms slide around his shoulders, pulling him tighter to the body in his arms. They swayed to the music. It had finished the last song and started another slow waltz. “They have a few more before they finish.” He whispered into the messy mop of hair.
And Harry could of swore that he felt lips against his head. He was quiet, knowing fully well not to voice this. They continue their sway. Twirling around to mimic their waltz moments ago.
“We have to stop before they finish the remainder of the songs.” He spoke, still whispering into Harry’s hair.
“Please don’t.” Harry begged, only realising after it slipped from his lips how whiny it sounded and how much he didn’t want this night to end. When in the beginning, he couldn’t wait until it had finished, but now? “Just, keep dancing with me.” His voice muffled in between fabric. “We’ll find away to get me out without being seen, just don’t leave me yet.” He could hear the begging tone in his voice. Wishing beyond belief that Snape didn’t judge him for it.
He didn’t, he kissed the top of Harry’s head before pulling back. Harry tightened his grip. Only to loosen when Snape’s hands went around Harry’s waist. It was still a hugging embrace, but a loose one. Harry wrapped his hands around Snape’s torso, pulling at his shoulders, while Snape had his on Harry’s lower back.
“What is this dance called?” Harry asked, wanting to learn more.
Snape peered down between them, meeting Harry’s eyes. He was quiet as countless thoughts crossed over his face that Harry couldn’t read. All he could think of as his eyes glancing down to Snape’s lips, slightly chapped. His tongue darting out to wet them. Harry mimicked the motion. Wetting his lips, unknowingly leaning in.
Snape broken the connection when he leaned back, “I don’t know what they call this. But lovers tend to dance like this to remain close to one another.” Harry blushed at his use of lover.
Blushing, embarrassed, he ducked his head before meeting Snape’s eyes again. “Is… Is that what we are?” He couldn’t help but ask it. Harry couldn’t believe he had asked that.
Snape sputtered at that, missing a few steps before he gotten back in step to the music. He looked upwards to the ceiling, murmuring something along the lines of merlin’s help me. Before his eyes snapped back to Harry’s, they were on fire, bright as he asked, “is that what you want?”
Harry was silent. He wanted nothing more than for that.
Snape sputtered again, “never mind that Mr. Potter, I should not have asked that of you.” His eyes were wide. Breaking the dance as he stopped, taking a step backwards. Harry missed the movement and contact immediately. “You are too young for me to ask that, and I am your professor.”
“Then why are you here?” Harry asked, Snape gaze was on him. Taking a step back from Harry as if he was slapped. “I mean no disrespect, Sir. But you’re here in a closet with me.” He motioned around me. “If you were worried about that, you wouldn’t have even stepped inside here. Only given me detention and sent me off to bed.”
Snape was quiet as Harry spoken. Harry could only think that he was thinking over what Harry had been saying. He was only lucky he didn’t just bolt from the room. Harry knew when he had made up his mind – only standing there awkwardly for a few minutes, when Snape beckoned him to come closer to him.
Harry went to him willingly, wrapping his arms around him. His head going to his chest as Snape wrapped his hands around him, one hand in his hair – holding it to his chest and the other around his shoulders.
Harry relished in the feeling, taking in all the warmth that Snape’s body radiated. He felt greedy for it.
Snape pulled Harry back, looking into his eyes. They were so purely green that shined with – what Severus hoped were not unshed tears. Harry watched him, his eyes darting along his face. Taking him fully in. He seemed to make a decision in that moment, because the next thing he knew it, was that he was leaning in. He licked his lips, bring it to Harry’s as they met in the middle. It was clumsy, Harry having no real experience in this whatsoever. And Snape not knowing how far to push it for the boy.
Harry opened his mouth, matching Severus as he felt a tongue slide along his lips. It was soft, light. Severus hand reaching up to cup Harry’s chin, pinching it between thumb and finger, pulling him in closer. Harry couldn’t help but lift higher on his toes to get as close as he could to the older man. Wrapping his hands around his neck, as Snape pulled his hands back around his waist. Pulling him flush to his body.
It was slow, a swipe of lips before Severus leaned back, resting his head against Harry’s. “Does that mean that we are lovers?” Harry broken the silence.
A chuckle. “I believe it does.” Severus says as he leans back in.