[Fic] Letter's From The Inside 03
Title: Letters From The Inside
Writer: Teh Opheliac (A.K.A. Lillith Maxwell)
Beta: Obssessed4Life
Warnings: Slash / Yaoi, Snarry (Snape x Harry); man-kissing!, AU- Sirius is alive. -More to come.
Summary: One day, Harry is greeted by a strange owl that seems oddly familiar. With a bit of coaxing, it introduces Harry to something weird, something amazing, something that allows him to interact with an anonymous person whom he fall head over heels for. Harry’s life will never be the same again.
-
The next morning, Harry was woken up by an obnoxious ray of sunlight that persisted in shining into his eyes. He groaned, annoyed and still half asleep. With an irritated sigh, he rolled over to avoid it only to expose his entire face to that damned sun again! He hissed, lifting his hand above his eyes and blocking the light from making contact with his sensitive eyes.
“Ouch…” he murmured, feeling sluggish, as he opened first one eye and then another. Harry looked around the room and found it deserted as he yawned and sat up for a refreshing stretch. As he did this, he recalled the odd dream he had the night before. It was of a sad man whom had endured a lifetime of torment. He had been sitting down next to the man and watching him without the need for words while the man had returned his gaze. That was it; they had sat in each other’s presence and watched each other.
Normally Harry would have liked to have believed that he was more creative than that. Despite this, he hadn’t found the dream boring. It had been comforting, almost interesting to gaze at the man’s eyes and watch his emotions flicker through them. He had felt in control of the dream- which wasn’t quite normal for him. Usually, if he wasn’t having a nightmare, he felt like he was watching a movie and he had a difficult time remembering even a mere third of the dream.
Last night was different though. He could have moved anywhere he wanted in the vivid, detailed world if he had found reason to.
Harry shook his head and stood up, smiling as he thought about the man. He headed to the foot of his bed and opened up the trunk at the bottom of it, digging around for his robes, tooth brush and other necessities before heading down to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later he hurried back into his dorm room and grabbed his books and wand. He turned to leave the room when the edge of the journal caught his eye. It was peeking out from under the pillow and taunting him. Harry licked his lips and grabbed it, settling it under one of his school books before leaving the room. He felt better than he had in weeks and he hummed to himself as he walked to the Great Hall.
“Wow, someone’s in a good mood!” Hermione commented as Harry took a seat beside Ron with a big grin.
Harry nodded at her, “Yeah, I woke up feeling great. For the first time in a long time, I had a good night’s sleep.” He turned his attention to the table and studied the food before him. Everything looked so good- and he felt as though he were starving! Harry took some pumpkin juice, french toast and a piece of sausage and placed them on his plate before beginning to inhale them.
Ron nodded at him and gave him a small smile, “That’s why I didn’t wake you up before I left. I thought I’d let you sleep longer and let you get up on your own. Although, if you hadn’t come when you had, I’d have gone to go wake you up so you could have still eaten before class.”
Hermione nodded in approval and gave Ron an appraising look, “It was really thoughtful of Ron.” Ron’s cheeks flushed and he looked away, feeling shy. Harry grinned at him; his crush was as noticeable as ever- except, of course, to the two involved. “It looks like Professor Snape had a good night too,” she commented, glancing up at the high table.
Harry blinked and redirected his gaze up towards his Potion’s Professor. It was true. The man didn’t seem quite so pale today; his cheeks even seemed to have a light healthy flush to it. Snape also seemed to be talking to Dumbledore about something in an excited manner (well, as excited as the man could get)- probably some potion he was working on.
Ron groaned, “Who cares, Hermione! That nasty git’s always trying to get us in trouble anyway.” Hermione gave him a sharp look and he quieted down, “I mean, it’s not like it’s any of our business anyway… thank god.”
Harry was about to turn and address the two of them when Snape broke off in the middle of saying something and turned to look at him. His breath caught in his throat when their eyes locked to each other’s and he felt his heart begin to pound in his throat at the intensity in the man’s eyes. For one desperate moment, Harry was afraid that Snape could actually hear the beating of his heart over the roar of the crowd. However, just as quick as it happened, it was over.
Snape turned away from him and focused on a worried Dumbledore. He must have said something reassuring because the older man smiled and nodded at him. “-rry!”
“Harry!!” Harry started, eyes wide and turned around to face a concerned Ron and Hermione. “Harry, are you alright? You looked kind of dazed and out of it,” Hermione questioned.
Harry smiled at her and swallowed the lump in his throat, “No, I’m fine! I was trying to remember whether or not… I had remembered to finish my homework for Potions today.”
Ron’s eyes grew big and he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Blimey Harry! Snape will kill you if you don’t turn your homework in on time!” It was the only class that both Ron and Harry made sure to always have their homework done for- much to Hermione’s distaste.
Harry scratched his head and gave them a sheepish smile, “I know…” he told him, turning pink. “I think I finished it though. It was just really late last night so I had to think about it for a moment.”
Hermione tsked at them and started to lecture the two of them about how they should do their homework as soon as they get it instead of putting it off to the last second. Harry rolled his eyes and returned his gaze to Snape. Stubbornly, the man refused to look at him even once throughout the rest of breakfast.
---
Harry yawned into the palm of his hand and tilted his head to the side as he followed Snape around the room with his eyes. Potion’s class was almost over- thank Merlin- and his snarky Professor was lecturing them about something that seemed almost impossibly boring. Really, where did the man come up with some of this stuff? Was he purposely going out of his way to find the most uninteresting potion ingredients to lecture them about? If so, he succeeded.
He licked his lips and watched as the man gestured at the shriveled up sopophorous beans. They would be using them to make the Draught of Living Dead for their sixth-year N.E.W.T. Potions class. Snape spoke to them in a velvety voice that sometimes made Harry’s stomach do flips. This time, however, it just seemed to be droning on without an end, “…so you see, the most effective way to squeeze the juice out of the sopophorous beans is to crush them with the flat side of a silver dagger. While you brew this potion, it will release a blue steam. Ideally, the halfway stage should be...”
Harry sighed and rested his head in his hand as he recalled another Slytherin. Last year, Snape had made him work with Draco Malfoy for a Potion’s assignment. It had been hell for him- at first. They had been able to do nothing but argue with each other for the first week of the project. When the due date approached with uncanny speed, they realized that they would never be able to finish it in time if they didn’t work together.
So, after one final fight for which both of them had received detention for (they had resorted to hexing each other), they reluctantly called a truce for the duration of the assignment. It was then that Harry discovered just how intelligent Malfoy really was. In many ways, he was almost like a mini Snape when it came to his expertise in Potions.
Harry had found himself growing more attracted to the boy, much to his dismay. The day before the project was due they had both ended up experimenting with each other and waking up sweaty but satisfied in bed next to each other. After a long awkward silence, the two of them almost started fighting again. Instead, they agreed to never tell anyone about the incident and to go back to being rivals.
While they did just as they planned, Harry thought about the experience a lot. He had been confused. Everything had felt so good and different from what he felt with girls. He wanted to do it again sometime- although, not with Malfoy. He agonized over the incident for months before he realized that he was gay.
Harry was jarred from his thoughts by a loud crack sounding on his desk. He jumped in his seat and turned to face Snape with wide eyes. The man stood in front of him with a yardstick grasped in his hand as he glowered down at him. “Welcome back to reality, Potter. Perhaps now you might deem this class worthy enough of paying attention too.”
Harry glared at him, “I was paying attention-!”
“Oh really? Tell me then, Potter, when you are stirring this particular potion, what are you supposed to do after every seventh counter-clockwise stir?” There was a moment of silence in which the older man sneered down at him with a look of barely concealed disgust.
Harry gulped and thought back to what Snape had been saying before he tuned out of the lesson. He came up with nothing. Feeling a bit frantic, he looked over past Snape to Hermione who was motioning with her hands. “Um, you uh-” he coughed and squinted at her, “-you stir it in the opposite direction?”
A flicker of surprise shot across Snape’s face for just a moment before he turned and rounded on Hermione. She looked up at him with innocent, wide eyes and he growled under his breath. He turned away sharply and mumbled a few angry words at Harry that he had to strain to hear. “Correct, Potter.”
As Snape finished up the lesson, Harry shot Hermione a grateful expression and mouthed a silent ‘Thank you’ to her. She nodded and gave him a disapproving expression that promised him that he would be on the receiving end of yet another lecture today. He sighed; it was going to be a long day.
---
It was a free period for Harry. He was in the back of the library hiding from Ron and Hermione. Although, considering where he chose to hide, she could probably find him with easy efficiency if she ever decided to look there. She wouldn’t though. Why would she? It was the last place she (or Ron) would ever expect to find Harry- which was why he had chosen to hide there to begin with.
Harry wanted some free time to himself to write in his Journal without having to worry about Ron or Hermione peeking over his shoulder and discovering his secrets. He had been eager to write about his dream from last night but hadn’t had any time to do so until now. He dug out a quill and ink before he placed them on the right side of the table in a neat pile.
Then he picked up the Journal and placed it in front of him before opening it and flipping through the first few pages to pick up where he had left off. He was shocked and a bit horrified to find another entry that was definitely not his underneath the tidy writing of his first entry. The text was elegant and, upon further inspection, familiar looking. He could not place who it was that had written it though.
Aggravated and a little afraid because his privacy had been intruded upon (and let’s face it, if the wrong person had read it, the news that Harry Potter was gay could be all around the school by the end of the day) he leaned down to read what was written.
The amount of cruel and heartless people who occupy the world astound me. People say that society’s outlook on humanity is easing up and finally escaping the clutches of prejudice, religion, etc. I think there is little to no change. There will always be people who think they are better than others because of wealth, race, sexuality or whatever else. It’s true that more people are open-minded, but regardless they still care about themselves more than anything else. Humans are naturally very selfish creatures, after all.
I remember when I told my family I was gay. They became angry with me and immediately went into denial. My parents were convinced it was just a phase I was going through and that I would get out of it eventually. When it became obvious to them that this recent development wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, they started trying to cover it up and hide it. They were embarrassed of me. Eventually, we ended up having one huge fight about it. They stopped talking to me afterwards and began to ignore me. In their eyes, I was dead. A failure. They even went as far as to talk to other people as though I no longer existed.
I still don’t understand why it was such a big deal to them. I was the same person I had always been. The only thing that had changed was my gender of my prospective future partner. Why is it that my sexuality was more important than me?
Harry was dumbfounded by the response. It was almost like the person whom had written this, probably someone in his dorm that had seen him writing in it before he went to sleep, had made a journal entry of their own in it. This person had even admitted that they were gay too! Harry couldn’t help but feel his excitement bubble around inside of him as he thought of this person. Could they be the person he had been searching for? Could they be the perfect friend?
Harry shrugged to himself and nibbled on his lower lip for a few minutes, musing over the situation. The person whom had responded to his entry didn’t seem to mind sharing the journal with him. They had been quick to talk about themselves and it made Harry more comfortable with the idea.
He was not that upset to discover someone had intruded upon his personal thoughts- which was odd. If anything, he felt sort of relieved. Now, he had someone to talk to and maybe, just maybe, if he continued writing in the Journal, they would too. With this thought in mind, Harry grinned to himself and picked up his quill before proceeding to respond to his anonymous friend.
People who care more about their image than their own child aren’t fit to be parents. That’s what I think, at least. I mean, no offense, but think about it. It means that they’re still too immature and self-centered. When you’re a parent, it’s not just about you anymore. Your children always come first.
Harry set his quill down and reread his entry once before smiling in satisfaction and closing the Journal. The response was short, simple, and to the point. With any luck, it would be enough to provoke a response. He couldn’t help but hope that whoever it was that had taken the journal from him last night would do it again tonight. The prospect of the idea left him giddy and eager. He couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow morning.
---
That night, as Harry was sleeping, he found himself back inside the same place as the night before. The room was dim and the light came only from the roaring flames that the fireplace provided. The walls were colored a faded forest green and the carpet was black. There were quite a few bookshelves that were squished together and jam packed with many books that Harry couldn’t see the titles of- not with such a dim lighting. In front of the fireplace was a black comfortable looking couch that, Harry decided, would be a lovely place to seat himself.
He crossed the room without a sound and sank into it, surprised by just how comfortable it really was. He released a contented sigh and ran his gaze across the room searching for someone. He wasn’t sure just who it was he was looking for, but, he knew they were important. Harry pouted when his search came up empty and revealed no hidden people in the room.
Well, now what was he supposed to do? He reached up to scratch his head and froze when he saw his bare arm. What? He glanced down at his body and let out a tiny squeak when he discovered he was clad in only a pair of boxers. He felt his cheeks begin to burn and he attempted to cover his exposed skin with his hands, feeling the attempt was rather pathetic.
It was then Harry heard a click from across the room. His head snapped up and he focused on the door, his earlier embarrassment forgotten as his anticipation took over. This was the person he had been waiting for, he knew it.
The door opened and a man with dark hair and obsidian eyes walked inside in only a pair of pajama pants. His chest was bare and sprinkled in light muscles. Harry’s eyes slid over his body, absorbing it, enjoying it, practically salivating over it. What a sexy piece of eye candy. His body reacted to the lean form and Harry was mortified to feel himself becoming aroused. He was quite proud of himself when he managed to tear his eyes away from his body and to the man’s face a few minutes later.
The man was smirking at him with a raised eyebrow. Harry flushed, squirming on the couch and looking anywhere but at him with a hint of desperation. A few moments of silence went by before Harry finally turned his gaze back over to where the man was standing- only to find that he was no longer there! With wide eyes, Harry’s gaze swept across the room, searching for him. He yelped and was startled to find the man was sitting right beside him.
“I, uh…” he murmured to the man, feeling unintelligent.
“Not very articulate, are you…?” Came that smooth, velvety voice of the man. Harry felt a shiver slither its way down his back only to curl around his hips and lend a hand to his teenage hormones. He felt even more flustered then earlier and he opened his mouth to say something smart to redeem himself just a little in the other man’s eyes. Before any words came out, though, a pair of soft lips pressed against his.
Harry gasped against those lips in surprise before he surrendered to the kiss. His arms slid up and wrapped themselves around the other man’s neck as he pulled him closer, demanding more. In response, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around him in a tight embrace and pulled him flush against the other man’s body.
Go read: Chapter Four- The Betrothal Pads
Writer’s Note: Mwhahahaaha. I stopped right there because I am evil like that. They don’t have sex though. Just a make-out session. And remember, sometimes when we dream, a lot doesn’t really seem to happen in it but the hours do tick by. ;D
And to answer any questions you may have, Harry and Snape do NOT recognize each other in the dreams- they’re not supposed to, after all. They will not be able to recognize each other's handwriting. It does seem familiar to the both of them despite this, they will never recognize it (nor will anyone else- except, perhaps, Dumbledore) because it's part of the spell.
Oh, and, in case you’re wondering how they ended up kissing so quickly, think about it. It’s a dream. The circumstances between reality and a dream are entirely different. We end up doing and feeling things that wouldn’t necessarily happen in reality.
Despite the fact that they’re in complete control, they don’t actually know that- or the fact that this isn’t just a dream, but something they’re really in together as part of the effects of the Journal. :D Anyway, we can also say that their hormones are getting revenge for being ignored earlier that day! xD
Do you have any more questions? Just ask me! The next chapter may be a little late- my beta is on vacation (she reviewed this before she left) and won’t be back until July 6th. D: I will not be posting the next chapter until she beta’s it- because she’s amazing and always has me correct a LOT of things. So, expect the chapter to be posted from July 7th-13th. Sorry. D:
Credit to my beta, Obsessed4Life, for the sentence, “He could have moved anywhere he wanted in the vivid, detailed world if he had found reason to.”
Writer: Teh Opheliac (A.K.A. Lillith Maxwell)
Beta: Obssessed4Life
Warnings: Slash / Yaoi, Snarry (Snape x Harry); man-kissing!, AU- Sirius is alive. -More to come.
Summary: One day, Harry is greeted by a strange owl that seems oddly familiar. With a bit of coaxing, it introduces Harry to something weird, something amazing, something that allows him to interact with an anonymous person whom he fall head over heels for. Harry’s life will never be the same again.
-
The next morning, Harry was woken up by an obnoxious ray of sunlight that persisted in shining into his eyes. He groaned, annoyed and still half asleep. With an irritated sigh, he rolled over to avoid it only to expose his entire face to that damned sun again! He hissed, lifting his hand above his eyes and blocking the light from making contact with his sensitive eyes.
“Ouch…” he murmured, feeling sluggish, as he opened first one eye and then another. Harry looked around the room and found it deserted as he yawned and sat up for a refreshing stretch. As he did this, he recalled the odd dream he had the night before. It was of a sad man whom had endured a lifetime of torment. He had been sitting down next to the man and watching him without the need for words while the man had returned his gaze. That was it; they had sat in each other’s presence and watched each other.
Normally Harry would have liked to have believed that he was more creative than that. Despite this, he hadn’t found the dream boring. It had been comforting, almost interesting to gaze at the man’s eyes and watch his emotions flicker through them. He had felt in control of the dream- which wasn’t quite normal for him. Usually, if he wasn’t having a nightmare, he felt like he was watching a movie and he had a difficult time remembering even a mere third of the dream.
Last night was different though. He could have moved anywhere he wanted in the vivid, detailed world if he had found reason to.
Harry shook his head and stood up, smiling as he thought about the man. He headed to the foot of his bed and opened up the trunk at the bottom of it, digging around for his robes, tooth brush and other necessities before heading down to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later he hurried back into his dorm room and grabbed his books and wand. He turned to leave the room when the edge of the journal caught his eye. It was peeking out from under the pillow and taunting him. Harry licked his lips and grabbed it, settling it under one of his school books before leaving the room. He felt better than he had in weeks and he hummed to himself as he walked to the Great Hall.
“Wow, someone’s in a good mood!” Hermione commented as Harry took a seat beside Ron with a big grin.
Harry nodded at her, “Yeah, I woke up feeling great. For the first time in a long time, I had a good night’s sleep.” He turned his attention to the table and studied the food before him. Everything looked so good- and he felt as though he were starving! Harry took some pumpkin juice, french toast and a piece of sausage and placed them on his plate before beginning to inhale them.
Ron nodded at him and gave him a small smile, “That’s why I didn’t wake you up before I left. I thought I’d let you sleep longer and let you get up on your own. Although, if you hadn’t come when you had, I’d have gone to go wake you up so you could have still eaten before class.”
Hermione nodded in approval and gave Ron an appraising look, “It was really thoughtful of Ron.” Ron’s cheeks flushed and he looked away, feeling shy. Harry grinned at him; his crush was as noticeable as ever- except, of course, to the two involved. “It looks like Professor Snape had a good night too,” she commented, glancing up at the high table.
Harry blinked and redirected his gaze up towards his Potion’s Professor. It was true. The man didn’t seem quite so pale today; his cheeks even seemed to have a light healthy flush to it. Snape also seemed to be talking to Dumbledore about something in an excited manner (well, as excited as the man could get)- probably some potion he was working on.
Ron groaned, “Who cares, Hermione! That nasty git’s always trying to get us in trouble anyway.” Hermione gave him a sharp look and he quieted down, “I mean, it’s not like it’s any of our business anyway… thank god.”
Harry was about to turn and address the two of them when Snape broke off in the middle of saying something and turned to look at him. His breath caught in his throat when their eyes locked to each other’s and he felt his heart begin to pound in his throat at the intensity in the man’s eyes. For one desperate moment, Harry was afraid that Snape could actually hear the beating of his heart over the roar of the crowd. However, just as quick as it happened, it was over.
Snape turned away from him and focused on a worried Dumbledore. He must have said something reassuring because the older man smiled and nodded at him. “-rry!”
“Harry!!” Harry started, eyes wide and turned around to face a concerned Ron and Hermione. “Harry, are you alright? You looked kind of dazed and out of it,” Hermione questioned.
Harry smiled at her and swallowed the lump in his throat, “No, I’m fine! I was trying to remember whether or not… I had remembered to finish my homework for Potions today.”
Ron’s eyes grew big and he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Blimey Harry! Snape will kill you if you don’t turn your homework in on time!” It was the only class that both Ron and Harry made sure to always have their homework done for- much to Hermione’s distaste.
Harry scratched his head and gave them a sheepish smile, “I know…” he told him, turning pink. “I think I finished it though. It was just really late last night so I had to think about it for a moment.”
Hermione tsked at them and started to lecture the two of them about how they should do their homework as soon as they get it instead of putting it off to the last second. Harry rolled his eyes and returned his gaze to Snape. Stubbornly, the man refused to look at him even once throughout the rest of breakfast.
---
Harry yawned into the palm of his hand and tilted his head to the side as he followed Snape around the room with his eyes. Potion’s class was almost over- thank Merlin- and his snarky Professor was lecturing them about something that seemed almost impossibly boring. Really, where did the man come up with some of this stuff? Was he purposely going out of his way to find the most uninteresting potion ingredients to lecture them about? If so, he succeeded.
He licked his lips and watched as the man gestured at the shriveled up sopophorous beans. They would be using them to make the Draught of Living Dead for their sixth-year N.E.W.T. Potions class. Snape spoke to them in a velvety voice that sometimes made Harry’s stomach do flips. This time, however, it just seemed to be droning on without an end, “…so you see, the most effective way to squeeze the juice out of the sopophorous beans is to crush them with the flat side of a silver dagger. While you brew this potion, it will release a blue steam. Ideally, the halfway stage should be...”
Harry sighed and rested his head in his hand as he recalled another Slytherin. Last year, Snape had made him work with Draco Malfoy for a Potion’s assignment. It had been hell for him- at first. They had been able to do nothing but argue with each other for the first week of the project. When the due date approached with uncanny speed, they realized that they would never be able to finish it in time if they didn’t work together.
So, after one final fight for which both of them had received detention for (they had resorted to hexing each other), they reluctantly called a truce for the duration of the assignment. It was then that Harry discovered just how intelligent Malfoy really was. In many ways, he was almost like a mini Snape when it came to his expertise in Potions.
Harry had found himself growing more attracted to the boy, much to his dismay. The day before the project was due they had both ended up experimenting with each other and waking up sweaty but satisfied in bed next to each other. After a long awkward silence, the two of them almost started fighting again. Instead, they agreed to never tell anyone about the incident and to go back to being rivals.
While they did just as they planned, Harry thought about the experience a lot. He had been confused. Everything had felt so good and different from what he felt with girls. He wanted to do it again sometime- although, not with Malfoy. He agonized over the incident for months before he realized that he was gay.
Harry was jarred from his thoughts by a loud crack sounding on his desk. He jumped in his seat and turned to face Snape with wide eyes. The man stood in front of him with a yardstick grasped in his hand as he glowered down at him. “Welcome back to reality, Potter. Perhaps now you might deem this class worthy enough of paying attention too.”
Harry glared at him, “I was paying attention-!”
“Oh really? Tell me then, Potter, when you are stirring this particular potion, what are you supposed to do after every seventh counter-clockwise stir?” There was a moment of silence in which the older man sneered down at him with a look of barely concealed disgust.
Harry gulped and thought back to what Snape had been saying before he tuned out of the lesson. He came up with nothing. Feeling a bit frantic, he looked over past Snape to Hermione who was motioning with her hands. “Um, you uh-” he coughed and squinted at her, “-you stir it in the opposite direction?”
A flicker of surprise shot across Snape’s face for just a moment before he turned and rounded on Hermione. She looked up at him with innocent, wide eyes and he growled under his breath. He turned away sharply and mumbled a few angry words at Harry that he had to strain to hear. “Correct, Potter.”
As Snape finished up the lesson, Harry shot Hermione a grateful expression and mouthed a silent ‘Thank you’ to her. She nodded and gave him a disapproving expression that promised him that he would be on the receiving end of yet another lecture today. He sighed; it was going to be a long day.
---
It was a free period for Harry. He was in the back of the library hiding from Ron and Hermione. Although, considering where he chose to hide, she could probably find him with easy efficiency if she ever decided to look there. She wouldn’t though. Why would she? It was the last place she (or Ron) would ever expect to find Harry- which was why he had chosen to hide there to begin with.
Harry wanted some free time to himself to write in his Journal without having to worry about Ron or Hermione peeking over his shoulder and discovering his secrets. He had been eager to write about his dream from last night but hadn’t had any time to do so until now. He dug out a quill and ink before he placed them on the right side of the table in a neat pile.
Then he picked up the Journal and placed it in front of him before opening it and flipping through the first few pages to pick up where he had left off. He was shocked and a bit horrified to find another entry that was definitely not his underneath the tidy writing of his first entry. The text was elegant and, upon further inspection, familiar looking. He could not place who it was that had written it though.
Aggravated and a little afraid because his privacy had been intruded upon (and let’s face it, if the wrong person had read it, the news that Harry Potter was gay could be all around the school by the end of the day) he leaned down to read what was written.
The amount of cruel and heartless people who occupy the world astound me. People say that society’s outlook on humanity is easing up and finally escaping the clutches of prejudice, religion, etc. I think there is little to no change. There will always be people who think they are better than others because of wealth, race, sexuality or whatever else. It’s true that more people are open-minded, but regardless they still care about themselves more than anything else. Humans are naturally very selfish creatures, after all.
I remember when I told my family I was gay. They became angry with me and immediately went into denial. My parents were convinced it was just a phase I was going through and that I would get out of it eventually. When it became obvious to them that this recent development wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, they started trying to cover it up and hide it. They were embarrassed of me. Eventually, we ended up having one huge fight about it. They stopped talking to me afterwards and began to ignore me. In their eyes, I was dead. A failure. They even went as far as to talk to other people as though I no longer existed.
I still don’t understand why it was such a big deal to them. I was the same person I had always been. The only thing that had changed was my gender of my prospective future partner. Why is it that my sexuality was more important than me?
Harry was dumbfounded by the response. It was almost like the person whom had written this, probably someone in his dorm that had seen him writing in it before he went to sleep, had made a journal entry of their own in it. This person had even admitted that they were gay too! Harry couldn’t help but feel his excitement bubble around inside of him as he thought of this person. Could they be the person he had been searching for? Could they be the perfect friend?
Harry shrugged to himself and nibbled on his lower lip for a few minutes, musing over the situation. The person whom had responded to his entry didn’t seem to mind sharing the journal with him. They had been quick to talk about themselves and it made Harry more comfortable with the idea.
He was not that upset to discover someone had intruded upon his personal thoughts- which was odd. If anything, he felt sort of relieved. Now, he had someone to talk to and maybe, just maybe, if he continued writing in the Journal, they would too. With this thought in mind, Harry grinned to himself and picked up his quill before proceeding to respond to his anonymous friend.
People who care more about their image than their own child aren’t fit to be parents. That’s what I think, at least. I mean, no offense, but think about it. It means that they’re still too immature and self-centered. When you’re a parent, it’s not just about you anymore. Your children always come first.
Harry set his quill down and reread his entry once before smiling in satisfaction and closing the Journal. The response was short, simple, and to the point. With any luck, it would be enough to provoke a response. He couldn’t help but hope that whoever it was that had taken the journal from him last night would do it again tonight. The prospect of the idea left him giddy and eager. He couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow morning.
---
That night, as Harry was sleeping, he found himself back inside the same place as the night before. The room was dim and the light came only from the roaring flames that the fireplace provided. The walls were colored a faded forest green and the carpet was black. There were quite a few bookshelves that were squished together and jam packed with many books that Harry couldn’t see the titles of- not with such a dim lighting. In front of the fireplace was a black comfortable looking couch that, Harry decided, would be a lovely place to seat himself.
He crossed the room without a sound and sank into it, surprised by just how comfortable it really was. He released a contented sigh and ran his gaze across the room searching for someone. He wasn’t sure just who it was he was looking for, but, he knew they were important. Harry pouted when his search came up empty and revealed no hidden people in the room.
Well, now what was he supposed to do? He reached up to scratch his head and froze when he saw his bare arm. What? He glanced down at his body and let out a tiny squeak when he discovered he was clad in only a pair of boxers. He felt his cheeks begin to burn and he attempted to cover his exposed skin with his hands, feeling the attempt was rather pathetic.
It was then Harry heard a click from across the room. His head snapped up and he focused on the door, his earlier embarrassment forgotten as his anticipation took over. This was the person he had been waiting for, he knew it.
The door opened and a man with dark hair and obsidian eyes walked inside in only a pair of pajama pants. His chest was bare and sprinkled in light muscles. Harry’s eyes slid over his body, absorbing it, enjoying it, practically salivating over it. What a sexy piece of eye candy. His body reacted to the lean form and Harry was mortified to feel himself becoming aroused. He was quite proud of himself when he managed to tear his eyes away from his body and to the man’s face a few minutes later.
The man was smirking at him with a raised eyebrow. Harry flushed, squirming on the couch and looking anywhere but at him with a hint of desperation. A few moments of silence went by before Harry finally turned his gaze back over to where the man was standing- only to find that he was no longer there! With wide eyes, Harry’s gaze swept across the room, searching for him. He yelped and was startled to find the man was sitting right beside him.
“I, uh…” he murmured to the man, feeling unintelligent.
“Not very articulate, are you…?” Came that smooth, velvety voice of the man. Harry felt a shiver slither its way down his back only to curl around his hips and lend a hand to his teenage hormones. He felt even more flustered then earlier and he opened his mouth to say something smart to redeem himself just a little in the other man’s eyes. Before any words came out, though, a pair of soft lips pressed against his.
Harry gasped against those lips in surprise before he surrendered to the kiss. His arms slid up and wrapped themselves around the other man’s neck as he pulled him closer, demanding more. In response, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around him in a tight embrace and pulled him flush against the other man’s body.
Go read: Chapter Four- The Betrothal Pads
Writer’s Note: Mwhahahaaha. I stopped right there because I am evil like that. They don’t have sex though. Just a make-out session. And remember, sometimes when we dream, a lot doesn’t really seem to happen in it but the hours do tick by. ;D
And to answer any questions you may have, Harry and Snape do NOT recognize each other in the dreams- they’re not supposed to, after all. They will not be able to recognize each other's handwriting. It does seem familiar to the both of them despite this, they will never recognize it (nor will anyone else- except, perhaps, Dumbledore) because it's part of the spell.
Oh, and, in case you’re wondering how they ended up kissing so quickly, think about it. It’s a dream. The circumstances between reality and a dream are entirely different. We end up doing and feeling things that wouldn’t necessarily happen in reality.
Despite the fact that they’re in complete control, they don’t actually know that- or the fact that this isn’t just a dream, but something they’re really in together as part of the effects of the Journal. :D Anyway, we can also say that their hormones are getting revenge for being ignored earlier that day! xD
Do you have any more questions? Just ask me! The next chapter may be a little late- my beta is on vacation (she reviewed this before she left) and won’t be back until July 6th. D: I will not be posting the next chapter until she beta’s it- because she’s amazing and always has me correct a LOT of things. So, expect the chapter to be posted from July 7th-13th. Sorry. D:
Credit to my beta, Obsessed4Life, for the sentence, “He could have moved anywhere he wanted in the vivid, detailed world if he had found reason to.”