Current mood:	lazy
Entry tags:	fic

New story!
Attempted humor. Harry/Snape implied. Ron finds something interesting in Harry's bag.


Dirty Little Secret


Harry sat in one of the cushier chairs in the Gryffindor common room, staring into the fire, his quill hanging limply from one hand. He was so lost in his thoughts of swirling black robes and rough, stained fingers that he didn’t notice Ron calling his name. Finally, Ron slammed his history text hard on the table, startling Harry and causing him to drop his quill.

“It’s about time, mate. I’ve been calling your name for ages,” Ron said with a grin. “You still got Hermione’s notes?”

“Yeah,” Harry stammered after a pause, gesturing toward his book bag. He retrieved his quill, and turned his attention back to the charms essay he’d been so busy not working on while Ron dug through the jumble of parchments in search of the notes.

He was actually making some progress on his essay when Ron tossed a scroll onto his lap.

“Is that yours,” he asked.

Harry glanced at the parchment, reading the first bit of what looked like someone’s clichéd attempt at a short story. “’s not mine,” he replied, tossing it back.

Ron looked suspicious. “You might want to have another look.”

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed the scroll from Ron. He scanned over it fairly quickly until he saw his name. And Snape’s name. And they were naked. Harry dropped the parchment to the floor, eyes wide with horror. He shot a nasty look at Ron, who was laughing so hard tears streamed from his eyes.

“Nice joke, Ron,” Harry said angrily.

Ron gasped for breath, eyes bright with amusement. “Sure is. Too bad it’s not mine. Handwriting looks a bit familiar, though.”

Harry moved to retrieve the scroll before anyone else could see it, but Ron was closer. He unfurled it and looked closely at the handwriting. “Oi, Ginny!”

Ginny looked up from where she sat next to Dean on the other side of the common room.

“Give me that!” Harry hissed through clenched teeth while lunging for the scroll. Ron held it easily out of reach.

“She might know who wrote it,” Ron replied, easily holding Harry back. “Ginny! Have you seen this?”

Ginny plucked the parchment from Ron’s hand and began to read it. Her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth with one hand to stifle the giggles that began to escape. Just then, the portrait door swung open and Hermione entered, her arms heavily laden with books and scrolls. Harry sat stunned and red-faced in the floor, horrified as Ginny called out to her.

“Hermione! You’ve got to hear this!” She cleared her throat and affected her most dramatic tone, “‘The dark haired potions master pulled Harry close. He pressed the small phial into his lover’s hand and whispered “I want you inside me, now.”’ Isn’t that hilarious?” Hermione’s face grew pale. She dropped her load with a loud crash, grabbed the parchment from Ginny, and ran back out the door.

The Griffindor common room was still stunned silent as Harry took off after his friend.

He finally caught up with her by the lake. Her cheeks were red and her eyes puffy, but she wasn’t crying anymore when Harry sat down next to her, nudging her with his shoulder.

“Hey.”

Hermione glanced quickly at him before looking away. “I. . . I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry doesn’t seem quite enough.”

Harry smiled at that. “You? At a loss for words? I didn’t believe it was possible.” Hermione laughed a little, and Harry took that as a good sign. “Forget about it. They will.”

“I still shouldn’t have done that to you. You must have been mortified!”

Harry reached over and squeezed her hand. “Not too bad.”

Hermione accepted the small comfort, but she wasn’t finished apologizing. “And with Snape! I know it’s bad enough that I wrote it, but you were never supposed to see! Everyone knows how much the two of you hate each other.”

Harry shrugged. “It could have been worse, you know,” Hermione raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. Harry grinned impishly, “It could’ve been Dumbledore.”

Her eyes widened in horror before she laughed loud and long. Glad to see that Hermione was finished berating herself, Harry stood and straightened his robes. He offered a hand to help Hermione up. They walked back toward the school in companionable silence, but just before they reached the door, Hermione hesitated.

“Just so you know, I know you wouldn’t ever do anything like that with Snape.” She fidgeted with the buttons of her robe, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “I just thought the idea was…interesting.”

“Of course not, Hermione, I know that. Besides,” Harry added, leaning close and lowering his voice so only Hermione could hear, “he never lets me top.” He opened the door leading to the great hall, holding it for Hermione, who was, for once, completely speechless.