Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
Well, here goes.
Chapter 11

 

Charlie had stayed for a couple of hours longer. Harry had wanted to throw the door open in defiance – who did Snape think he was, anyway, putting wards on Harry's bed? – but Charlie had just shaken his head. And he had moved over to sit in the armchair. Harry had been very tempted to go over and sit in the man's lap, but then. Well. He remembered that Charlie didn't remember.

Besides, he had it on good authority that his arse was very much too bony.

When the clock had chimed ten, Charlie had stretched and stood up, declaring it was time to go lest he give Snape even more cause to embarrass them both. Mostly Harry, of course, he'd added with a lascivious wink.

But it was the very last thing he'd said before opening the door that had struck the hardest chore within Harry.

You know, he'd whispered teasingly in Harry's ear, Mum always cast those Wards on mine and Bill's beds whenever we had friends that had the potential of being more than that over. Just so you know. Parents care about stuff like that.

So instead of glaring at Snape where he was sitting comfortably stretched out in his armchair, Harry'd given him a quick, shy smile. Snape raised a suspicious eyebrow, a hint of confusion in his dark eyes.

"Can I come back to visit again?" Charlie asked, standing in front of the fireplace.

"Sure!" Harry grinned. "That'd be great. You could finally show me those Quidditch moves you were talking about—"

"Harry, I believe he was asking me for permission."

"Oh." Harry frowned. "Why?"

"As the adult in this household, perhaps?" Snape silkily countered. His gaze was shrewd and calculating as he stared first Charlie down, then Harry into fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His properly buttoned shirt. Not that there had been anything going on in his room that would've caused him to come out rumpled and tousled. Finally, Snape stood up. "If you wish."

Harry grinned. "Thanks. That's great. Really. Um." A bit embarrassed, and unsure of what to say, Harry turned to Charlie. "So, see you again?" he asked.

"I'll bring my broom."

Just as Charlie was reaching for the Floo powder, Harry cried out, "Wait!"

Snape looked sharply at Harry, and Charlie dropped the powder back into the obsidian bowl.

"What?"

"It won't make you forget again, will it? Snape? He won't forget again, right?" Harry was looking mostly to Snape for answers, and reassurance.

Snape shook his head. In an oddly subdued voice, he said, "No, he won't. Mr Weasley knows about the spell now."

Harry looked stricken. "He won't forget…because he knows there's a spell making him?" He felt vaguely sick. All he had to do was go round telling people who he was, and they wouldn't forget him again?

Snape nodded shortly.

"I'll see you soon again, all right?" A hand on Harry's shoulder made Harry turn to face Charlie again. "You can even come over to the Burrow, if you want. See what Mum makes of you."

Harry just nodded, feeling numb and a little sick. He watched with an air of detachment as Charlie Floo'd away, this time without Harry calling him back. The man disappeared in a swirl of green flames.

Harry stared at the flickering flames for the longest while before turning away. Snape stood there, watching him silently.

"You didn't have to put…" Harry trailed off. "I wouldn't have. Not with him, anyway," he muttered. Once had been enough. He'd realised that some time ago, subconsciously. This meeting, just know, with Charlie had only firmed that resolve. Charlie was great, fit and fun and sexy, and the list went on and on, but it had been too long. Yeah, Harry knew why he'd never heard from Charlie. He did. He wasn't sure why he'd never tried to contact the man sooner, but fact was that he hadn't until now. "He's a great friend."

"Is he?" Snape wondered.

"Yeah. He is. He's good to talk to. He listens and stuff."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I seem to remember 'stuff' being something quite—"

Harry grinned, rolling his eyes. "Oh, come on! Not like that. I promise. Charlie's not… I mean, he's hot, yeah, but I don't fancy him the same way any more. S'like, it's been too long or something. I'm not sure how serious I was about him in the first place. Guess too much has happened since last summer."

—x—

The next morning after breakfast – which had just happened to consist of leftover pancakes – and after Harry'd had yet another check-up with Pomfrey, Harry went to see Snape in his office. The dungeons were cold. His breath turned to white mist, and Harry found himself glad that he'd remembered to nick another thick jumper off Snape. He was sure his lips would've turned blue otherwise.

It wasn't until he was halfway there that he had the brilliant idea that he could just transform into his animagus form, and run. He'd be there in no time. Yeah, he'd be naked, but cats had fur, right? He'd be warmer, wouldn't he? Harry was quite sure he'd definitely be warmer. So, after finding a more or less out of the way nook to hide in, Harry deftly transformed himself into a cat. After struggling with his suddenly constricting clothes for some time, Harry was soon free and, in bounding leaps, raced towards Snape's office.

The world was strange. Colours muted, bleeding into each other. But clear. Clearer and sharper than Harry'd ever seen before. Scents assaulted him. Sounds. Tastes. More than once, he wanted to chase after a sound, or a half-recognised scent that promised food.

What Harry hadn't counted on was that he'd become tired. By the time he rounded the corner by Snape's office, his muscles were straining. His fur stood on end, and his poor paws were icy and sore. He was trembling with cold when he finally slid to a halt outside the door to Snape's office.

Scratching at the wood, he yowled loudly enough to wake the dead. Why wasn't Snape opening the door? "Ooooouuuuuwt!"

"Oh, Potter," Snape sighed. The voice came from behind Harry, and the cat twisted around, then leaped for the safety that was Snape.

"Miaaaow!" he yowled, pressing himself against the warmth – the delicious heat. He pressed his nose against Snape's neck, ignoring the hiss that earned him, and basked. Warm, he purred.

"Watch the claws, boy," Snape snapped. He wasn't angry, though, Harry decided, because large hands held him safe. Harry tried to stop kneading Snape's chest with his paws, but the motion was instinctual, and hard to the point of impossibility to quench. Snape held him out, under his forelegs.

"Mrrrrwn," Harry told Snape, before enthusiastically cleaning Snape's nose. Yeah, some instincts definitely were harder to supress than others.

Snape sneezed. "For God's sake, Potter," he grumbled. The door to his office opened with a touch of his hand. Inside it was much warmer, the fire having been started very early in the morning, and kept burning by the elves. Harry's purr went up a notch. Snape put the cat down on the rug in front of the fireplace, then went back outside to the hallway again. When he came back, he was carrying Harry's clothes and shoes.

Harry the cat had scooted as near the flames as he dared, back hunched and tail trembling, as he inched his face closer still.

"Trying to get rid of your whiskers, Tumbles?"

"Mnnnr," Harry disagreed.

Snape scoffed. Moments later, Harry's clothes appeared next to the cat. "I'll be waiting inside," Snape said before leaving.

Harry twisted an ear. Once he was sure he was alone, he quickly transformed back, got dressed, and made his way inside the flat.

"I know. Not a brilliant idea," he told Snape as he sat down on the sofa, instantly wrapping himself up in a thick, comfy blanket. His palms and the soles of his feet still tingled.

"Obviously," Snape agreed.

Turning nervous eyes in Snape's direction, Harry shifted a bit closer, then asked, "So…yesterday?"

"First, tell me this. What did you forget?"

Harry looked blank. He shrugged. "I dunno. I mean, I can't think of one good reason why I didn't write Charlie sooner. I realised yesterday that I didn't remember what I was doing in London so soon. In fact, I don't actually remember going back to the Dursleys this summer at all. D'you know if I did? I'm not sure…but—oh. When I went to see Derek, he said the Ministry'd talked about me, how I was dangerous and insane. But he said 'Harry Potter'. Not, you know, Boy-Who-Lived or anything like that. Most of the school even agreed. I know they remembered that bit, but around Halloween, it was like everyone'd just started to ignore me instead."

"I have a point," Snape interjected. "This summer."

"Yeah?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, but his focus was on the fire, and his eyes were distant. "Why is it you were free to roam Muggle London, without being reprimanded, even once?"

Harry opened his mouth. Then he closed it. There weren't any of the protections around Grimmauld Place that was on Privet Drive. None.

"I can't come up with a single satisfactory reason. Albus," Snape sneered, "Won't deign to answer me on that point, which leads me to believe he meddled with that much, at the very least."

Harry wasn't slow on the uptake, nor particularly thick – on stuff that had to do with him, anyway. "Dumbledore made everyone forget!" he exclaimed, looking more than a little wild around the eyes.

"No. At least, not as such."

"Then what the fuck did he do! Why won't he bloody talk to me for?" Harry shouted. "My life's a fucking—!"

"He Obscured you," Snape said. His voice was low and tired. Harry snapped his mouth shut with an audible click. "It's at best a tricky branch of magic. It's not dark, but neither is it light. It's in-between and often overlooked. It's finicky, shrouded in duality, ambiguous and thusly disregarded. Albus won't admit doing it, of course, but his denial wasn't particularly convincing. Silence is the best confession, don't you know?"

"…Obscurity?"

Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose. It sounded like he muttered, 'could kill for a fucking fag right now,' but, well. It was Snape. Snape didn't smoke. Did he?

"Snape?"

Snape took a deep breath. Focusing on something just the left of Harry's face, Snape said in a stilted tone, "How many piercings do you have?"

Harry frowned. "None. I never got any. Ron always said only gays had them. I was thirteen and didn't want to be a gay. Guess Bill's doesn't count."

Snape shook his head. Staring straight at Harry's left ear, he repeated his question. "No, Harry. How many holes in your ears do you have?" he hissed out from between clenched teeth.

"I don't have any, I said—"

"Wrong!" Snape shouted. "How many do you have, boy?"

Harry started. "I…I don't have any, sir," he insisted. "I never had any. Hermione used to say it took weeks to heal properly. I never… I would've—"

"What? Remembered?" Snape sneered. He Conjured a mirror and held it up in front of Harry. Snape then muttered another spell, one that forced Harry's hair back and away from his face. It left his ears totally bare. Harry found himself focusing on his right earlobe, perfectly smooth and unadorned.

"See!" Harry pointed it out to Snape. "Nothing!"

The black eyes narrowed considerably. "And what about your other ear, Potter?"

Harry faltered. "My…other ear?" He blinked several times. His fingers were unsteady when he finally managed to move them up to his face, to his ear. It was ridiculous. There was nothing there – he'd never got his ears pierced – but he found he had to force himself to look. Something was making him really not want to look at his left ear. Harry ran a trembling finger from high up on his cartilage, all the way down to the fleshy lobe. In the centre, the perfect centre of his earlobe, Harry stopped moving his finger.

"Yes?"

"It's a…a stud. There is a stud. I have an earring," Harry mumbled, shocked. "Where…"

Snape Banished the mirror. "It's a Perception Filter of sorts. It stops you from noticing. The FideliusCharmis based on this principle, as are most other Hiding and Secrecy Charms. The Obscuration Charm is hidden inside a prism, something small. Like the centre of your earring. The Perception Filter on the earring itself is hidden exactly where you don't want to look. Where you never want to look." Snape's eyes were burning. "It's that nasty little place out of the corner of your eye that you always avoid. The evil monster following you at night? The second you turn around, there is nothing. For Muggles, this is true. For wizards, however… We know what hide in the shadows. What monsters truly do exist."

Harry shivered. But Snape wasn't done. "In the early days, when wizards first started creating their ancient civilisations, they spoke of whispers in the dark—"

"That's the Lord of the Rings," Harry protested. "I read that book when I was little."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Even Muggles are perceptive," was all he had to say on that subject. "Don't interrupt. They spoke of whispers in the dark, of demons lurking just out of sight, hiding themselves in the blind spot in the corner of our eye. Magic was created and reshaped to detect such things, which is why we are rarely caught by surprise these days. Everyone can see a Dementor now, can't they? The legends about Death, walking in among mortal folk in a black robe carrying a scythe. Even the Magical World is something that, to an extent, only exists 'out of the corner of your eye'. Muggles can't detect it.

"Much knowledge from those ancient times is lost. There are few manuscripts that have survived to this day and age. It just so happens that Perception Filters and Obscurity Charms is a branch of magic that scholars have clung to throughout the ages. If it is because it has always been such an elusive subject to grasp, I don't know."

Harry's mind was whirling. He wasn't sure he understood everything Snape had just said, but he could grasp most of it. "So…someone made sure I couldn't see I had an earring?"

Snape nodded shortly. "By extent, everyone else. I should have seen it. I sensed something, but I didn't know what. And because it felt uncomfortable, because it was something I didn't want to see, I didn't. The very principle Perception Filters is based on.

"And so since you didn't know you had an earring, it would have been rather easy to hide an Obscuration-type based Ward inside it. You would have been as safe as if you were with your relatives."

"But…why don't everyone use them, then? I could've—"

"Because they are unreliable, and unpredictable. At most, they should only be allowed to remain active for seventeen days. After that…they tend to root."

"As in not come off?" Harry panicked. "Snape, take it off—!"

Snape grabbed Harry's hands, held them firm in his own. "Harry. I would bet almost all of my books on that the stone in your ear is a diamond. Hardest substance known to man. Once removed, it will most likely 'disappear'."

Go somewhere we can't see 'cause we don't want to, Harry mentally filled in.

"This earring made it safe for you to venture wherever you wanted this summer. It is by no means a perfect solution. A strong enough wizard would be able to detect it and see through it." Snape looked particularly angry with himself at that. "I should have seen it," he hissed.

"It's not your fault, sir," Harry whispered.

"So therefore I am blameless and without guilt?" Snape snorted.

"Derek says so."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Blasted Muggle." Taking a deep breath, Snape then resumed his lecture as if he hadn't detoured. "Perception walks hand in hand with Obscurity. An object placed outside of your perception, then hid in obscurity is difficult, almost impossible, to find. But to place a person, a boy, in such a field… You have magic, Harry. And magic is complicated, alive and sentient in a way few understand. It would've helped keep you safe, kept you secret.

"The reason most shy away from that type of magic is not because it's difficult to perform. It's almost too easy, child's play. It's setting parameters, predicting every possible outcome and eventuality that is the tricky part. How far should the Perception Filter extend, to what end shall the object its perception it alters be Obscured. The Arithmetical formulas are endless and convoluted.

"And while Albus is powerful and intelligent, even he can't calculate everything."

Harry twisted his hands around until he could hold Snape's hands properly, it felt right weird, but not enough that he wanted to let go. "What d'you mean?"

"How do you think the Dark Lord reacted to your abrupt disappearance?"

"I dunno. Don't imagine he was too happy 'bout it, though." As far as Harry could tell, Snape wasn't even Summoned that often. He went away maybe once a month, if that often.

"That is an understatement. From what I have been able to suss out, the Dark Lord abducted your Aunt sometime between your birthday and Halloween. He saved her blood, then performed a little ritual of his own."

"He killed her?" Harry felt strangely numb.

Snape shook his head. "Curiously, no. Returned her nearly drained of blood, but alive. I have been trying to figure out why ever since. Albus has not been of much help in that department either." Snape rubbing his thumbs over the back of Harry's hands like that was awfully soothing. "I would imagine the Dark Lord was furious when he realised that so many had forgotten about you. From what Albus told me, he only intended to Obscure your scar from people who would do you harm. So he used the Dark Mark as an anchor, of sorts. At that point, you were only hidden from Death Eaters. People who wanted to harm you wouldn't be able to see that you were Harry Potter. Albus should have removed it the instant you returned to Hogwarts, I—"

"Why didn't he?"

Snape pursed his lips. "I don't know. But by that point, your magic had already begun interacting with the Obscurity Ward, altering it. Perhaps even playing on your own desires and secrets. People were forgetting you were the Boy-Who-Lived, but they still remembered Harry Potter if they had met you."

Harry frowned. "What d'you mean, my wishes?"

Looking straight in Harry's eyes, Snape said two words. Two simple words that tied a knot in Harry's stomach. "'Just Harry'?"

Pale and wide-eyed, Harry looked away. "Oh."

Snape squeezed Harry's hands, and picked up from where he had left off. "Do you understand why it's so dangerous?"

Harry nodded.

"Albus' intentions were to keep you secret, keep you safe, hidden and protected. That much he succeeded, I'd say. He shouldn't have fucking done it," Snape hissed.

Harry started. Snape swearing was…bad. Snape never swore. He used words Harry couldn't understand, but he didn't swear. Did he?

"The Dark Lord took his revenge by making sure no one would remember a single detail about you. No one, and he made doubly sure that anyone who you cared about you would have no clue that you even existed. I believe he did the ritual in two stages, most likely so that he wouldn't attract Albus' attention. Over the course of the summer until the first of September, he made sure that everyone who had previously cared for you forgot about you entirely. By the time Halloween came around, he attempted to remove your existence entirely. He is vain. If Albus hadn't…" Snape shook his head. "It shouldn't have taken me months to find out."

"Why didn't you know? You're a Death Eater. You spy. Why didn't you know?" Harry's voice was hoarse.

"I'm his Potions Master, not his informant," Snape said stiffly. "That role goes to Lucius Malfoy."

Wetting his lips, Harry squirmed a little closer to Snape. "So…Volemort—" One of Snape's hands tensed, squeezing hard enough to hurt at the mention of the name. The only outward reaction that the name bothered him. "—so he took my, my Aunt's blood and, and… He made Ron hate me?"

"He made Mr Weasley and the rest of your friends forget," Snape corrected. "To them, you would have been a new student. A transfer from another school. You told me Longbottom tried to make friends?"

"Yeah. He was really shy about it." Harry frowned. "But if they thought I was new—"

"Have you spent any amount of time at all with someone outside of my House, Harry?"

"I…" Harry froze. "I…no. I, thought they all hated me, and Tom… Oh."

"Yes," Snape said, simply.

Right then, right at that moment, Harry wished he was six years old so he could crawl over and cuddle up in Snape's lap. "S'just a huge fucking misunderstanding," Harry gasped.

"Your friends still would have forgotten," Snape reminded Harry sharply. "That wouldn't have changed. We would have known sooner, though. And perhaps we might have been able to detect your earring."

"And we wouldn't have forgotten again," Harry filled in, voice a shaky whisper. "Snape?"

"Yes?"

"Can you take it out?"

Instead of answering, Snape let go of Harry's hands and cupped the boy's jaw, before moving his hands to Harry's left ear. "I used to have an earring when I was your age," Snape murmured as he expertly, and painlessly, removed the stud from Harry's ear. "Dad thought I was a pouf, of course."

Harry couldn't help the nervous laugh that escaped him. "Were you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Snape raised an eyebrow, his eyes amused. "No. Most assuredly not. But it aggravated him. That was reason enough." Raising his wand, Snape summoned an empty leather box the size of Harry's fist. Snape put the earring inside, locked it, then levitated it over to sit on the mantelpiece. "Well, the girls liked it too."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I hear blokes like tattoos and tongue piercings."

"I might accidentally remove your tongue entirely if you ever come home with a piece of metal through your tongue," Snape said, tone dry but amused.

"If I get one in my nipple, you'd never know," Harry blurted.

Snape grinned. "Then you had best refrain from practising your Animagus transformation in my presence, hadn't you?"

Harry laughed again. Then a thought struck him. "Hey, now that I've got a hole in my ear anyway, can I keep it?"

Snape blinked. "You're asking for permission?"

Harry nodded. "Charlie thought you were my dad, you know, and Derek says you've done me a heap of good," Harry said slyly, heart hammering in his chest.

Snape snorted, but he didn't look an ounce averse to the idea – and Harry was looking very closely. "If I were your dad, I would have corrected that horrible disarray you call hair years ago."

"Hair products don't work. Hermione's tried everything."

"I would've invented a potion," Snape muttered. Harry laughed. "If I were your dad," Snape continued slowly, "then I would have forbidden Albus from having so much free access to you years ago. Under any other circumstances, he would have needed permission from a parent for half of the things he's exposed you to over the years."

Heart in his throat, Harry haltingly asked, "Would you?"

Snape narrowed his eyes and shot Harry a calculating look. "Would I what?"

Harry studiously refused to look at Snape as he picked at a loose thread by the hem of his jumper. "Be my dad?" he asked, feeling almost lightheaded.

"Harry," Snape started, voice tight and controlled.

"I know!" Harry blurted. "I've been over everything in my head, over and over. I've thought about it from every angle I could come up with. But then, yesterday, Charlie pointed out the most important bits. You care about me, you look after me, you protect me, you don't lie. You keep me safe and warm and happy and you let me have a home! A room that's mine! You let me be me, just me. You don't expect me to, to be something I'm not. You bought me clothes and books and my glasses. You care, you said so!" Harry stubbornly pointed out, chin jutting out just enough for Snape to be unable to avoid noticing it. Abruptly, Harry's eyes narrowed and his shoulders slumped. "Oh. Oh, I mean, if you don't think I'm good enough—"

"Don't go there," Snape snapped at once. "I care, as I've said more than once. All I have done this past term is provide you with the stable environment that is your right. Nothing more."

"No one ever did that before."

Snape looked blank. His jaw twitched. "A cat animagus."

Harry twitched. "I'm not a stray, Snape," Harry grumbled. "Just, just say it if you don't want me, I'll—"

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't want you, Harry?" Snape brushed Harry's fringe away from falling into his eyes. "I've said it before, haven't I? People must be mad not to. If I ever had a son, I wouldn't mind terribly much if he turned out to be like you."

"Gay and all?" Harry pointed out.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Was there ever any doubt? Must have been the earring from my youth."

"Hey! What d'you mean, no doubt?"

Snape's grin was nasty. "Tell me honestly you never crushed on Wood."

Harry scowled. "Bugger."

"Or Lupin, for that matter, disturbing though the thought is."

"He was cute!" Harry defended himself. "I mean, no! I didn't, not on him! He was kind, and he, um. Gave me chocolate?" finished lamely. "And, you know, everyone's got a crush on a teacher at some point anyway. I bet you fancied McGonagall, didn't you?"

Snape merely shrugged. "There is something to be said about a woman in charge."

—x—

That very same afternoon, after a big lunch Snape'd cooked with Harry acting the diligent helper, Harry had, with Snape's permission, Floo'd to Diagon Alley. He was also sporting long hair and brown eyes, carrying an emergency Portkey on a chain around his neck, because Snape was paranoid like that. So, yeah, Snape had reasoned that even with the earring gone, it was still relatively safe for Harry to venture out into Muggle London one last time.

It took Harry no time at all to disappear into Muggle London and find the kind of shop he was looking for.

The girl behind the counter had more piercings in her face than Harry had fingers, and that wasn't even counting the ears, but she still gave him a brilliant smile that Harry was helpless but return.

"Hi," he said, "I'm looking for an earring made out of titanium."

"Did you lose it?" she quipped even as she showed him over to a large glass case on the wall.

Harry grinned. "Is it cheaper if I did?"

"Sorry, kid. Now, what're you after?"

So Harry showed her his ear, told her what he wanted and let her hum and hem over it. "So you're not looking for another piercing, then?"

When Harry hesitated, the girl's grin grew in proportions. "Oh, this is fab!"

Harry told her, "My guardian said he might accidentally cut out my tongue if I came home with a piece of metal through it."

She presented him with her right ear. "See anything you like?"

Harry stared. "I didn't know you could have earrings in some of those spots."

She laughed. "Well?"

"That one," Harry decided, poking the piercing in her ear.

"Rook," she told him.

Harry nodded. "Right, yeah. I want it in the same ear as the other one, and maybe a normal one, too, above it?"

"And your other ear?" She smiled, showing off a ring hanging under her lip. "Nothing at all?"

After a brief moment of hesitation, Harry pointed out two others. "I sort of like those, as well, but…can I really do so many at the same time?"

"That's a snug and a, ah, anti—"

"Forward-helix," someone else called.

"Yeah, clever, Felix!" the girl snapped, then turned back to Harry. "How many is that total? Three?"

Harry shook his head. "Four."

She shrugged. "I'd normally say three, tops. But it really is up to how well you look after yourself. Good immune system?"

"I guess." He wasn't ill all that often. But hadn't Snape said something about his eating disorder having a bad effect on his immune system? Harry couldn't remember. Either way, Harry decided right then that he really wanted his ears pierced. He'd wanted to when he was thirteen, and Ron'd held him back. There was no one to hold him back this time.

"Then it should be okay," she said. "Felix, you got a moment?"

"I'm free 'til four," the same disembodied voice as before called back, which was two hours away.

The girl turned back to Harry, who'd turned to take a closer look on the different rings and studs on display in one of the monitors. "So what do you say? Felix can do you right now if you want."

Harry smirked. "Really? Is he hot?"

She threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, he's all right, but don't tell him I said that. He'd never let me live it down."

She walked away, and Harry followed. There was a small room with white walls and cosy, fluffy furniture behind the counter, a cluttered desk and a rather fit bloke. He was probably in his twenties, tanned, and had the cutest button nose Harry'd ever seen, with a single silver stud glittering on his left nostril. Simply gorgeous. Harry assumed it was Felix. From inside the shop, the door jingled as it was opened.

"And that's my cue," the girl said before skipping out.

Felix shook Harry's hand. "I'm Felix. I do the piercing around here."

"Harry. Hi." Harry's smile was a tad nervous. "She, um, said you'd do me?"

Felix nodded. "Have you ever done this before?"

"Just once, but it was so long ago I don't really remember," Harry lied.

"Mmhm. Well, I never thought it hurt overly much, but I've had customers who say breaking bones hurt less. I think they were lying," he said drily.

"Or maybe they'd never broken a bone," Harry muttered. He sat down on the bed Felix showed him to, through another little doorway into a room that looked more like a hospital room than a piercing studio except for all the posters on the walls.

Laughing, Felix agreed. "So, Harry. What can I do for you?"

"I want piercings," Harry said, and pointed the spots out for Felix.

Felix listened, marked the spots out with a surgical pen, nodded and hummed, then he sat back as Harry observed the places Felix had marked in a mirror. Finally satisfied, Harry firmed his resolve and nodded. "Yes, exactly like that. Two studs and two, three rings?"

"All right," Felix agreed, then brought out the wickedly sharp needles.

And that was how Harry had his very first teenage act of rebellion. He came home with ears that still felt hot, a wide grin on his face and glittering eyes. The piercer had recommended he buy lots and lots of sweets to get his blood pressure up. Harry was feeling suitably giddy when he stumbled out of the fireplace, fairly buzzing with energy. Snape took one look at him, then crooked a finger at him.

"My room, now." Snape's voice was too silky.

Harry looked around, and only then noticed that there was an awful lot of people in Snape's sitting room. "Hi," Harry managed to get out before he was dragged off inside Snape's bedroom.

"Purple's nice," Harry blurted, as the first thing he noticed was that Snape's walls were dark purple, the drapes around his bed an even darker shade. The sheets on the bed and the rugs on the floor were all in different shades of grey. Snape had a cosy little sofa in here, barely large enough for two, as Harry and Snape proved when they both sat down on it. It was facing a tiny little fireplace in a corner. Most of the walls were covered with bookshelves in here as well, and the man's bedside tables – both of them – were piled high with books and scrolls.

Snape tugged Harry's turquoise hat off, cancelled the spell that had lengthened Harry's hair, then twisted Harry's head sharply to the right. Snape was silent as he repeated the process, examining Harry's other ear as well. Bits of silvery metal glinted from both of Harry's ears. The left earlobe had two tiny hoops in it, and a curved bar sat inside Harry's ear, in the part Felix had referred to as the 'Rook'. His right ear had two curved bars, the ones that had been called 'Snug' and 'Forward-Helix'. The first one sat where the ear met the side of his face, just under where his hairline began, and the other on the hard, protruding bit almost directly across from it.

"I sent you out to buy a single piece of jewellery," Snape said, sounding almost casual.

"Got it," Harry said, showing where the ring hung from his left ear.

Snape pursed his lips. "And the remaining four?"

"They were extra!" Harry grinned. "It almost didn't hurt at all, and I got a discount!" Harry's look turned sly. "Are you aggravated?"

"Exasperated," Snape primly corrected. Without moving, he wandlessly and silently Summoned a potion. "Drink this, then I have another we'll soak your ears in tonight. Muggles and their blasted infections," he muttered the last part under his breath. Standing, he hauled Harry up with him. "Come, I have a contingent of Gryffindors in my flat."

Chapter End Notes:
Yes, I got the idea from Dr Who.

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