THE PICTURE - Taran.doc

The Picture

by Taran

Summary: Harry finds an enchanted picture of Severus Snape from his school days. It leads to more romance than Harry ever dreamed of.

Detention. Again. It was Harry’s third in as many days. At least this time it was with Filch. He didn’t have to worry about his 17 year old hormones getting the best of him. It was because of said hormones that he was in detention again. He was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate in Potions class. Every time Snape said something, Harry’s hands would shake and his mouth ran dry, yet salivated at the same time.

He shivered as he picked up yet another dusty picture, remembering the feel of Snape’s warm breath on the back of his neck. The man had leaned in close to peer into his cauldron that afternoon. When he asked Harry a question, his breath had puffed out and ran seductively down Harry’s back. He had shuddered violently, causing the cup of willow bark to fall into the cauldron.

“Potter,” the Potions Master had growled. “Detention with Filch tonight.”

Harry was relieved and disappointed when Snape had walked away, leaving a cold breeze to swirl over his heated neck. He just managed to croak out his acknowledgement through his constricted throat. He was screaming internally about being given detention with Filch instead of with the Potions Master himself. At least with Snape, he could steel glances at the man between cleaning or whatever chore he was given.

He sighed dreamily as he thought about the potions teacher. He had no idea when his crush had started. At the beginning of his sixth year, he had still hated the man. They had restarted his Occlemancy lessons, and he thought he should hate the man even more now. Snape had been ruthless in his pursuit to teach Harry to close off his mind, pushing and prodding until even he was exhausted from the effort and Harry lay on the floor in a heaving pile of tense, sweaty muscles.

They hardly spoke a civil word to each other during the lessons, but Snape had let slip once that he was trying to teach Harry to protect himself because he, Snape, wouldn’t always be there to do it. It made Harry think. Snape had been there every time Harry really needed someone. Slowly Harry began to appreciate more what the older wizard was trying to do for him, and started working even harder to do what Snape wanted.

Snape’s cryptic comment also served to warn Harry that Snape might be in danger. He began to notice how thin and frail he was looking, the fact that he hardly ate at meals in the Great Hall, and how much quicker he tired from their lessons.

Harry began asking for breaks during the lessons, masking his concern by feigning exhaustion or headaches. Snape usually gave in, grumbling about Harry’s lack of will-power, but grateful for it, as well. Harry would sometimes press for light conversation, other times, he sat quietly and just watched the exhausted man try to recover. In tiny increments they moved forward, talking and listening. In the pace of a snail moving up a wall, they became almost friends. By the end of the year, Harry had come to truly respect Snape, and felt respect returned.

Over the summer, things with Voldemort came to head. The Dark Lord attacked his family’s home, but again, Snape was there to lend Harry whatever assistance he could. With the help of Snape, Dumbledore, and other members of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry was able to finally defeat Voldemort once and for all.

Snape had been injured in the battle. The Death Eaters that had accompanied their master, had turned all wands on him when it was obvious what side he was on. He suffered from many curses, and was covered in blood when Harry found him in the back yard. His cousin, Dudley, sat whimpering at his side, incoherently muttering about being saved by magic.

Harry had picked the slight man up in his arms, curious and worried about the lack of weight in someone of his height. He carried him into the house and laid him gently on the sofa to wait for medical attention. He stayed at the man’s side for 2 weeks in the infirmary at Hogwarts, until he was certain the man would be alright.

He had expected things to change after that. He had hoped they would become better friends, now that the threat of the Dark Lord was no more. He was terribly mistaken. Nothing changed, with Snape or anyone else. Life continued much as it had been before. Only now, Harry didn’t have the excuse of extra classes to spend time with Snape.

Snape continued to berate Harry and harass him in class, though with perhaps a little less malice. Harry even caught the man watching him from time to time, but he never had the opportunity to talk to him anymore. By Christmas, Harry found himself greatly missing Snape’s company, but couldn’t work up the courage to seek him out.

When the dreams started, Harry was eternally grateful that he was no longer having the Occlemancy lessons, as he would have surely died from embarrassment had Snape caught even a glimpse of the erotic dreams involving him.

Harry blushed remembering some of the dreams. The settings changed a lot, but the basics remained the same. He always found a way to make the man let loose and just feel, no holding back, no worries of right or wrong, no Dark Lord looming over them. His favourite dream took place in the potions classroom, over, on, and around Snape’s desk. He turned Snape to face his desk, then pushed the tall man’s robes to the side, discovering bare, pale skin underneath. He would then take advantage of the warm, tight arse facing him, in any way he wished.

Harry jumped from the memories as he heard the door to the old class open. He turned to look, finding Filch standing in the doorway, glaring at him.

“Ye can go as soon as yer done ‘ere,” he drawled.

Harry nodded and started to stand as the snarly janitor left. He stretched his long legs and back, turning his neck from side to side to work out the kinks from sitting so long. He realized he still had a picture in his hand and was about to set it back on the pile when something flashed and caught his eye.

Finally looking down at the frame in his hand, he gasped. It was a picture of his affection. A young Severus Snape stood against a wall, it looked to be one of the dark grey dungeon walls, with his arms crossed over his chest, his long legs out slightly and crossed at the ankles, and a very bored look on his slim face. His hair was longer and didn’t look at all greasy, as it was now. He wore a black robe with the Slytherin crest on it.

Harry watched, transfixed, as the young man blinked at the camera, his toe tapping impatiently. Something out of the camera’s range caught Snape’s eye and Harry gasped again as the man struggled to keep a straight face. He lost the battle and Harry watched him giggle a moment, before returning to his bored look.

Harry hugged the picture to his chest tightly as he considered what to do with it. With a nervous glance around him, Harry quickly tucked it under his robe and dashed up to his dorm room, thankful that he didn’t run into any of his friends along the way.
 

Harry pulled the curtains closed around his bed and put up a do-not-disturb spell, as well as a sound barrier. He dropped the picture on his bed and removed his robe and the oversized muggle clothes he wore underneath. He knew he should shower and brush his teeth before bed, but was too excited by his find to worry about it.

He settled himself cross-legged on the bed and picked up the picture. He scrutinized it closely, as though trying to memorize every detail, not only of the young Snape, but everything else around it, as well. As he watched him giggle at whatever was behind the camera, Harry ran his fingers down the glass, lightly caressing over the man. Snape turned to glare at Harry, making him jump. It was exactly the same glare Snape gave him on a daily basis.

Harry glared back and said softly, “How can someone so sexy be so snarky?” He huffed and stuffed the picture under his bed, now thoroughly irritated by the picture of Severus Snape. He decided to shower after all.
 

Meanwhile, in his private laboratory, Severus Snape had the distinct feeling of being watched. He looked cautiously around, but couldn’t see anyone. He cast a privacy spell around himself, but couldn’t shake the feeling. It made him paranoid and anxious.

A stray thought crossed his mind, almost as if it were someone else’s thought. It was something about someone sexy being… snarky? He shook his head to clear it, and suddenly the feeling was gone. He had no more time to think about it, as right at that moment, the cauldron he had been working on began to boil over.

“Shit!” he curse inelegantly. He cast a containment spell, but not before he was splashed quite heavily with the experimental calming potion. He glared at the mess, though the intensity of it was dwindling fast.

Severus cleaned up his work station, dumping what was left of the potion into a drain especially designed for accepting botched potions, grumbling and cursing calmly. He dowsed the lights and returned to his quarters and prepared for bed. As he crawled into bed, he vaguely wondered how long the unfinished potion would last.
 

Severus awoke flat on his back with the feeling of fingers crawling along his chest. He sleepily tried to brush them off, but they refused to leave him be. He sighed and rolled onto his stomach, but the light touch only seemed to increase into a pleasant rub.

He groaned and sat up slowly. He pulled off his nightshirt and looked down at his chest, thinking perhaps he had an insect crawling on him. All he saw, however, was his light dusting of dark hair and many scars. He gave himself a dubious look and started scratching absentmindedly as he got up and made his way to the bathroom, where he discovered a morning erection, which he hadn’t had in years. He couldn’t remember dreaming, but surely he must have been to be so hard now.
 

Harry moaned and pressed himself further into the bed seeking more contact. He was laying on his stomach with his arms tucked under his pillow, having another erotic dream. His fingers caressed soft, flawless skin as he bucked up into the dark haired lover that lay beneath him.

Just as orgasm over took him, he awoke with a start, panting. He moaned and stretched languidly, relaxing all his tense muscles. Slowly he realized that he really was touching something soft. He pulled his hands from under the pillow and looked down at the picture he had found the night before.

“Good morning… Severus,” he whispered, deciding that the young man in the picture was not his dreaded potions professor, and so addressed him by his first name. He smiled at the scowling face, then pulled the picture up to plant a kiss on the man’s cheek. He smiled brighter when Severus blushed and turned away, stealing shy glances at him.

Harry set the picture aside and grabbed his glasses and wand from the beside table. He uttered a quick cleaning spell, the evidence of his dream disappearing in a flash. He kissed the glass over Severus’ face once more, then tucked the picture securely under his pillow.

Harry greeted his dorm mates as they began rising for the day ahead. He was grateful for it being Saturday. After stealing the picture, and the erotic dream he’d just had, he wasn’t sure he could get through a double potions class without embarrassing himself.
 

As he stepped into the shower, Severus again had the feeling of being watched. He knew he must just be paranoid as there couldn’t possibly be anyone in his rooms, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. Remarkably, he wasn’t terribly upset about it, then realized that the botched calming potion was still in his system.

He leaned into the spray of warm water, letting it splash over his face and down his chest. He picked up the bar of soap, a special blend of his own creation designed to removed crusted potions residue and dry skin, and lazily began stroking it over his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt the need to pleasure himself. It wasn’t that he intentionally denied himself such indulgences, there just never seemed to be time to think about those kinds needs.

He shuddered as the rough soap scraped over one nipple, then the other. As he brought the soap down his toned stomach, he lightly pinched one hardened nub, moaning softly. He swirled the soap in the small patch of dark hair above his hard cock, then trailed it lightly up and down the length of it. The scratchy surface of the soap sent chills down his spine and made his breath catch in his throat.

Severus leaned his back against the wall of the shower and lifted one leg, bracing it against the opposite wall. He reached lower to fondle his balls and scrotum, then further still to pass over his tight entrance. It had been years since anyone had touched him in such a way and he found himself aching with need.

Dropping the soap, Severus ran one hand over his chest, scratching and pinching harder than before. His other hand, slick from the soap, wrapped around his cock and pulled roughly. Still gripping his cock, he reached down and squeezed his balls tightly, the pleasure/pain sending shock waves through his body. He felt the impending orgasm approaching and thrust two fingers roughly into his tight arse, arching his back and crying out.

Sated and breathing heavy, Severus leaned back into the water and let it cascade over his tense muscles. As he came down from his euphoric high, his body shuddered and went weak. He finished his shower quickly and prepared for the day.
 

Severus stood just in front of the doors to the Great Hall just before breakfast. His arms were crossed over his chest as he attempted to glare, though he couldn’t seem to muster up the necessary annoyance to make it truly threatening. He had heard Potter and his cohorts laughing from several halls away and decided to wait and deduct points when they arrived. He watched curiously as Potter came around a corner, walking backwards and waving his hands as he spoke animatedly to his friends.

He saw the tall red-head trying to warn Potter about his presence, but the young, dark-haired wizard wasn’t paying attention. Just when he expected the boy to back into him, Potter turned around and walked straight into him.

Severus held his ground and almost laughed as the young man bounced off his chest. The only thing that kept him from falling on his arse, were his quick reflexes as he grabbed Severus’ arms and held himself up. Severus quirked an eyebrow as he stared at him, mildly surprised to note that Potter was now only a couple of inches shorter than himself. He vaguely wondered when that had happened.

“Sorry, si—“ Potter started before realizing who he had run into. As he looked into Severus’ unusually calm face, he paused and gaped like a fish out of water, his face turning solid red while their eyes locked together. Severus had the feeling that the young man had just blushed right down to his toes.

“I… ah… sorry?” Potter stammered, tripping over his tongue and giving a nervous, crooked smile. Severus couldn’t help noticing the strong grip still on his arms.

“So articulate, Mr. Potter,” Severus drawled softly. “Ten points from Gryffindor.” He stared into the shocking green eyes a moment before leaning in slightly, his face just an inch from Potter’s. “Now let go.”

“Oh! Right,” Potter said, jumping and releasing Severus’ arms as though the touch had burnt him. He took a step back, but never took his gaze away.

Severus gave him one last weak sneer, then turned and entered the Hall, ignoring the shocked looks on the other Gryffindors’ faces.

Harry stood, mouth agape, blinking at the door as it closed behind Snape. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe he had actually touched the untouchable man and lived to tell! Not that he would ever tell anyone about the pure lust that had raced through him at that one brief touch.

“He didn’t hex you and he didn’t give you detention,” Ron said thoughtfully as he rested a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Do you think he was sleep walking?”

Harry let out a nervous laugh, allowing the tension to drain away from his body. “Maybe.”
 

Harry couldn't stop staring at his enigmatic professor throughout breakfast. The tall, dark haired man was remarkably calm and even serene looking. Even when several Ravenclaw's started arguing loudly, he merely gave them a bored scowl.

After nearly an hour of staring, Harry reluctantly allowed his friends to drag him away. They spent a few hours in the library, then returned to the Great Hall for lunch. He was shocked and amazed when Snape sauntered in sans dark, flowing robes. His jaw dropped to the floor as he, and nearly every girl in the hall, and a few boys, gawked in open appreciation.

Severus Snape was wearing plain black trousers that hugged his lean hips and thighs deliciously. A white, puffy sleeved silk shirt, hanging loose and open at the throat, accentuated his toned chest and narrow waist. His face was set in an expression of boredom.

"Umm... Severus?" Lupin questioned as Severus sat warily beside him at the staff table.

"What?"

"Did you... umm... forget something?" Lupin watched him closely, along with the rest of the staff. In all the years he'd known him, Lupin had never seen Severus without his dark, billowing robes. He could smell something familiar on him, but couldn't quite place the scent. He wondered briefly what Severus had been drinking.

"No. My robes were covered with a calming potion," Severus said casually. Lupin's eyes lit with understanding. "It exploded... twice. Not sure what's wrong with it, yet." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned his attention to the plate of food in front of him.

"Perhaps you ought to lay down for a while..." Lupin suggested. "Until the potion wears off, at least." Severus made a noncommittal sound and kept eating.
 

As soon as the meal ended, Harry excused himself from his friends, feigning a headache, and rushed up to his room. He pulled the drapes closed around his bed and quickly shed his robe and shoes. He pulled Severus' pictured out from under his pillow and stared at the slim figure, imagining what he wore under the school robe.

"Is that what you always wear under your robes? Tight slacks and white silk?" Harry asked the photo image. Severus merely raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise remained still. Harry's eyes roamed lustfully over the image, trying to catch a glimpse of what might peak out under the dark fabric.

"I nearly fainted when you walked into the Great Hall. I could have jumped you right there in front of everyone. Merlin, I want you, more than ever now. You looked so... fuckable in those tight trousers."

Harry smiled seductively as Severus blushed and looked away from him. He set the picture on his pillow and stretched out on his stomach, rubbing his erection on the bed firmly.

"Do you like that?" he whispered. "Do you like me telling you you're fuckable?" The picture-Severus blushed again even brighter than before. "You are, you know. Fuckable, that is. I thought you were sexy before, but those clothes just looked so... hot! I'd love to rip them off you and plunder your soft, tight arse. The Dark Mark is gone from your body. I could mark you with my own special brand. Mark you as mine in a whole other way. Would you like that?"
 

"Yes," Severus whispered into the dark. He lay on his back on his large four-poster bed, his mind drifting languidly. From the moment he had entered his rooms following lunch, his mind had been assaulted by stray thoughts and images. He was sure he was daydreaming, brought on by the morning's batch of botched calming potion.

The first image was of Harry Potter slamming into him from behind against the staff table at the front of the Great Hall with the entire school watching. Then, as he laid down on his bed, he could have sworn he heard Potter call him fuckable. That's when he knew he must be dreaming. Harry Potter hated him and would certainly never look at him with anything at all resembling lust and want.

He certainly didn't object to the idea of sex with the handsome young Gryffindor, he just didn't believe he could ever be wanted in such a way by anyone. After a lifetime of being called a greasy, slimy, ugly, good for nothing, git, it was difficult for him to have any self-confidence in matters of sex-appeal or love.

As the images continued, thoughts of self-confidence faded away and Severus gave himself over freely to the fantasy that the Boy-Who-Lived really and truly wanted him. When he heard Potter's voice in his mind asking if he'd like to be marked by him, he nearly exploded with joy. He had to admit, if only ever to himself, that he would indeed like to belong to Harry Potter in every way possible.

Severus could almost feel a brush of lips against his own as he sunk into the most relaxed sleep he'd had in a very long time. His dreams were filled with erotic images and emotions, all centered around a young man with emerald eyes.
 

After relieving the pressure in his cock to images of Severus in various positions, Harry kissed his Severus once more before falling asleep. He didn't wake again until Ron called to him just before supper. He stuck his head out between the curtains and assured his friend that he was fine and would meet him in the Great Hall shortly.

He grabbed is wand and muttered a quick cleaning spell before looking back to the picture that had laid beside him while he slept. He imagined waking up beside the man himself and not just a picture. He smiled happily as he leaned down to kiss the soft glass over the young man's face. He then tucked the frame safely under his pillow before leaving.
 

Severus made his way up through the dim hallways from the dungeons for supper, his mind still wandering over thoughts of Potter. He stopped short upon hearing Filch's voice and looked up to see him sneering at the young hero and his cohorts.

"Mr. Potter," Filch drawled. "Ye did such a fine job o' those pictures. I'm looking forward to having ye clean more next week." The ugly squib gave an ugly smile and laughed at the look of utter distaste on Potter's face.

Severus couldn't help snickering as he approached. He noticed Potter blush when he saw him, but passed it off as the boy blaming him for the cleaning duties and expecting more the following week. Severus nodded politely at Filch before brushing past the students and entering the Great Hall.

Taking his seat, Severus imagined Harry Potter on his knees cleaning stacks and stacks of old pictures. Most were probably from before Severus was a student. He'd had to clean some himself during detentions. He remembered finding pictures of Albus and Minerva from their school days. He recalled the shock of seeing Minerva as a young woman and not the old hag he bantered with on a daily basis. He wondered if the shock of that picture would cause the Great Harry Potter to faint.

He remembered finding some charmed pictures as well. Ones that could actually talk to you, or changed backgrounds. He remembered his own picture project for charms class. He had used an intricate spell that would allow him to hear the thoughts of the person gazing into the picture. He was very proud when he 'heard' Professor Flitwick saying it was a very good picture of him and the charm was well cast. He had 'heard' a few others comment on how good he looked in the picture as well. It was one of the few times in his life that he had actually felt good about himself. Of course, it didn't last. He also 'heard' some rather painful comments.

Because of the darker side of the charm, hearing people's thoughts wasn't exactly a good thing, Flitwick had kept the picture. Severus hadn't minded, he had 'heard' more than enough of what people really thought of him. The picture had been quickly forgotten, Severus assumed it had been destroyed. Suddenly, looking at Potter's blushing face, Severus began to wonder if it had really been destroyed or if it had found it's way into the stacks of old, forgotten photos.

Severus turned pale as he thought of the possibility that Potter had found his charmed picture. It would explain the feeling of being watched and all the unusual stray thoughts. That would mean, however, that Potter really had said Severus was ... fuckable... and that he wanted HIM, Severus Snape! The bane of his Hogwarts existence!

Severus pushed his untouched plate away and excused himself. He ignored Lupin's enquiry about his health, and the bright green eyes that followed him out. He didn't dare look the boy -young man- in the face.

Pouring a glass of scotch with shaking hands, Severus sat in front of a small fire in his rooms, thinking about the ramifications of Potter having that picture. The fantasy of being wanted by the boy hero wasn't just a fantasy. That Potter wanted to mark Severus as his own wasn't only a hopeful wish on Severus' part.

But what was he to do with this information? He couldn't just approach Harry and say, "I want to be yours." Harry was still his student and would be for several more months. On the other hand, now knowing Harry really did want him, he couldn't possibly wait until Harry was out of school. That would be too late, anyhow. The man would leave Hogwarts and him and probably never return.

At least Harry was over the age of consent. There were no set rules as long as the student was of age and the teacher involved wasn't grading their exams. He would just have to have one of the other professors mark Harry's papers. Of course, that meant having to tell someone about their relationship. Albus would probably know soon enough, if he didn't already know how Severus felt about Harry, which he probably did. The old meddler probably knew Harry's feelings, too. That would explain why he pushed them together so much during the war and was still constantly trying to get them to work together.

Severus showered and prepared for bed. Laying down, he opened his mind. He was now grateful to the calming potions. Without them, he may not have been relaxed enough the last couple of days to 'hear' Harry's thoughts. After an hour of silence, Severus had just started to drift off. His eyes sprung open at the first whisper of Harry's voice.

"You looked so good today. The only thing missing was having your hair tied back. It would be nice to be able to really see your face, like in this picture. You may not be a model, but to me, you're beautiful. I love your eyes most of all. So dark and expressive. Even when your face is closed off in a mask, your eyes say so much.

When you snickered at me... wow! You need to laugh a whole lot more. It was the most beautiful thing I've heard in a very long time. I don't think I've ever really heard you laugh. I think you would see that as loosing control. You're always in control, though, aren't you? I wonder what it would take to make you loose control, to just let go and feel?

I'd like to make you loose control. Taunt you and tease you with my tongue until you beg for mercy. Or, maybe use a feather... hehe. That'd be fun! For me, anyhow. I could tie you down so you really have no control, then tickle you with a hundred feathers. Would you like that?

I could make love to you so slowly, you'd be writhing and begging for more, faster, harder. I'd watch your eyes the whole time, waiting to see that moment when you've really lost control. That's when I'd stop everything. I'd watch your eyes, your gorgeous eyes, fill with tears, wanting me, needing ME! Not Potter, not my damned father's son, but ME, Harry! I'd cry too, you know. Needing you, needing to be needed for who I am, not what everyone wants me to be. That's when I'd remove the bonds holding you down, and we'd really make love. Long into the night, while the castle sleeps, I'd hold you... only you."

Severus called Harry's name into the dark as his orgasm over took him. After he caught his breath, he turned onto his side with a sigh. He felt the hot streak of tears trail over his nose and down his cheeks. He had never felt so wanted, so needed in his life, and he had certainly never felt so loved as he did right then.

He wanted to return Harry's love, but the picture didn't work that way. He would just have to wait until he could express it all in person. He drifted into sweet oblivion with Harry's smile in his mind and felt the tingling brush of lips on his forehead.
 

Severus stood staring into his reflection the next morning, wondering how Harry could possibly call him beautiful. He wore a green silk shirt and dark grey trousers. He was too skinny and his bones stuck out. The features of his face were too angular and sharp, and his nose was far too large. He sighed and shook his head.

He swept his freshly washed hair back with his hands and looked thoughtful. It didn't look bad held back, he just hadn't done that since he was in school. It took away the shadows around his face and made him feel exposed and vulnerable.

He smiled slightly as he remembered what Harry had said the night before about his hair pulled back. Then he remembered too, about Harry wanting to make him loose control.

"I wonder if I could make you loose control, as well?" he said to himself with a wicked grin. He brushed his hair and tied it back with a green ribbon, transfigured from an old shoelace, that matched his shirt. He blushed as his mirror whistled at him for the first time in years.
 

Harry choked and sputtered on his pumpkin juice as Severus, definitely not Snape, walked into the Great Hall. As Ron patted his back and asked what was wrong, all Harry could do was point, his voice still stuck behind his shock. Ron's hand stilled on his back and his jaw dropped.

Severus' hair was pulled back in an elegant ponytail and his black robes were open, revealing a green shirt and grey slacks. He walked with bold confidence and a slightly smug expression. Harry felt a tightening in his trousers and had to look away.

He noticed the looks on several faces around him and felt a sudden wave of jealousy wash over him. It was ridiculous and he knew he had no right to be jealous, but people, girls and boys alike, were ogling HIS Severus! He growled and narrowed his eyes at Justin Finch-Fletchly, who was licking his chops as though being presented with a full seven course meal.

Severus took his seat next to Lupin and casually surveyed the room. He noticed more than a few open mouthed stares and had to nearly bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling at the green sheen on Harry's face as he glared at Severus' admirers.

"Been working on the calming potion again?" Lupin asked.

"Not yet. After breakfast," Severus responded pulling his eyes away from Harry and the rest of the students.

"I see. You look good, by the way."

"Thank you," Severus said nervously, trying not to blush. He felt good about his appearance, for the first time in years, but still didn't quite know how to take the compliment. He had intended to shock Harry, but really hadn't considered how it would effect everyone else. He was flattered by the attention, but a little confused by it, too.

He knew Harry thought he was sexy, but it was a biased opinion. Harry was... well, infatuated with him. Severus hadn't expected anyone else to be so enthralled with his change of appearance. He was still the hated, greasy Potions Master.

Severus tried to ignore the stares and eat, but found his hands shaking terribly when he tried to raise his cup of tea. He had to set it back down before he spilled it all over himself. He was feeling rather embarrassed now, having the entire school watching his every move. His plan to make Harry loose control was back-firing in a most disagreeable manner.

Severus ate as quickly as grace and manners would allow, then escaped to the sanctuary of his dungeons. He closed off his mind as best he could, ignoring the light whispers that filtered in during the afternoon. As he worked on the experimental calming potion, he found he liked having his hair pulled back and out of the way, and the open robe allowed for easier movement and he didn't get over heated. He decided to dress that way more often, just not in the Great Hall.

When he surfaced for supper, his hair was still pulled back, though a few wisps had loosened and framed his face, but his robe was buttoned all the way up. He didn't think he'd be able to eat at all if everyone was staring at him again. He got a few looks and stares, but nothing like what he had endured during breakfast. Even Harry wasn't looking nearly so jealous this time.

"So, who is it?" Lupin asked as Severus took his seat.

"Who is what?" Severus responded, genuinely confused by question.

"Who are you trying to impress?" Lupin had a twinkle in his eye that mirrored Albus'.

"What makes you think I'm trying to impress anyone?"

"Come on, Severus. There has to be a reason for your sudden change in appearance."

"Can a person not simply change their look once in a while?" Severus was becoming irritated by the conversation. He had no intentions what-so-ever of telling the werewolf about his feelings for Harry. Besides, he wasn't really trying to impress the young man. From what Harry had said to his picture, he didn't have to.

"A person can, but you DON'T! Besides, its not just your appearance that has changed. Your whole demeanour has been different the last couple of days. You've been almost... well, happy. That's not like you." Lupin smiled mischievously at him. Severus suddenly realized Lupin wasn't only seeing the differences in him, but most likely, smelling them as well.

"So... Who is it?"

"None of your business!" Severus snapped.

"Is it a staff member?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes, Lupin. After 20 years of teaching, I've suddenly discovered that Minerva is just my type!"

"And here I always thought you preferred men," Lupin said laughing.

Severus was grateful for the silencing charm that surrounded the staff table, preventing the students from hearing the teachers conversations. It didn't however, prevent the rest of the faculty from hearing Lupin's comment. There were several snickers from the ones nearest them, then Flitwick's booming voice reached them from the far end of the table.

"What's going on down there? Remus, are you discussing Severus' love life?"

Severus growled and looked away.

"Severus has a love life?" Minerva asked, completely dead-panned, causing more laughter.

"I don't know yet. He's not talking," Lupin teased.

"Now, now, children. Let the boy be," Albus said sternly. Severus was about to thank him when he spoke again. "I'm sure we'll all discover his crush soon enough," he said with a chuckle.

Severus growled, a rumble coming from deep in his chest. He pushed his plate away forcefully, knocking over his teacup and rose to leave.

"Come, Severus. We're only teasing," Albus said, trying to placate his youngest staff member.

"This is exactly why I have no love life," Severus muttered angrily before sweeping from the room, leaving the entire staff feeling guilty and ashamed.

"Severus, wait!" Lupin called to him as soon as the doors to the Great Hall had closed. When Severus turned to face him, his eyes were flaring dangerously and he was breathing hard with barely suppressed rage.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Lupin said quietly. "I hadn't meant to embarrass you."

"I have a hard enough time dealing with ... my feelings, but being teased about having a 'crush' like some school boy, only makes it worse!"

Severus' anger flared for a moment, then dropped like a rock as he thought about what he had just said. 'A school boy with a crush.' What if that was all it was for Harry? A crush that would fade away, a meaningless romp with forbidden fruit?

He suddenly felt nauseas and cold. He closed his eyes and turned away...