The Boy Who Lived A Bit [Snarry]

Chapter Two

Severus Snape sat in a rather comfy chair in the Black family library at 12 Grimmauld Place, long legs stretched out before him, reading an interesting text on potential uses of some of the less commonly utilised bodily excretions. Some of the suggestions regarding vaginal mucosa had long ago been debunked, of course, and the chapter on child sweat was largely superstition, but overall the tome had helped while away a few blessedly peaceful hours. A peace that, naturally enough, had to be disturbed sooner or later.

'Professor? Sir? May I come in?'

'This is not my house, Potter, you need not seek my permission.'

'I just, um, didn't want to disturb your reading.'

'And yet you do so.' He looked up at the youth as he snapped the book shut. 'Is there something you require?'

Potter stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him. Continued growth spurts over the last couple of years had given the boy a slightly gawky appearance. His full potential height would never be reached, thanks to his bastard relatives and the under-nourishment of his childhood years, but his limbs were long and Quidditch-toned and his face had thinned into early adulthood. Snape was finding it increasingly difficult to make himself mentally refer to Potter as "the boy" these days,and only forcing himself to recall the days of their earliest acquaintance made it easier. At least the uncontrollable black hair and the wide green eyes hadn't changed. No matter how large the young man's – boy's – hands may get or how deep his voice may plunge, at least Snape could cast a glance at those emerald orbs and that messy bird's nest and convince himself he was still talking to a child. Most of the time.

'I just wanted to give this back to you.' Potter stuck a hand into a back pocket of his blue jeans and produced Snape's hipflask. 'You left it in the kitchen last night.' He approached Snape's chair and held it out.

'Ah. Well. Thank-you, Mister Potter.' Snape took the flask. The metal was warm to the touch, having been cradled against Potter's behind for Merlin knows how many hours. He shook it from side to side, satisfied to hear a resulting slosh from within. 'And not even empty. Wonders never cease.'

The boy was smiling at him, damn him. 'I only had a tiny bit more after you left. I promise.'

'Hrm. So I can't be accused of turning you into a dipsomaniac, then. That's something, at least.'

Potter plonked himself down into the chair opposite Snape and looked around as though he'd never seen the interior of the library before, finally settling his gaze upon the book resting on Snape's lap.

'Good book, sir?'

'Vaguely. A little outdated but interesting nonetheless. You wouldn't believe some of the things one can do with female ejaculate.'

The green eyes widened to owl proportions. Ah, it was so easy to render him childlike at times. Excellent sport.

'Is that... Do they, I mean... is that true? Can they, you know, can they do that?'