Obviously..,
Snape was also invited by Dumbledore.
As for whether he was willing or reluctant, Harry didn't know.
But the child was very satisfied with watching Dumbledore introduce the other two old men at the table to Snape,
The Potions Professor's expression changed unpredictably. But Dumbledore didn't introduce Paddy Fenlin's other name to Snape.
Harry naturally didn't say much, so Snape sat in the living room and pretended to read for the whole afternoon.
His eyes swept over Paddy and Harry, who were sitting on the carpet by the fireplace and playing crossword puzzles.
"Horizontal 14,
Golden Snitch — Harry, do you have a grudge against that Snape? "Paddy asked in a low voice.
"Vertical 3, Rose of Versailles — Hehe,
He probably thinks you're a weird uncle. "The corner of Harry's mouth twitched.
Dumbledore's house didn't have a television.
Harry gave his radio to Lupin again.
So other than reading,
There wasn't much entertainment, and all the big shots were over a hundred years old.
So before ten o'clock, the conversation and games in the living room were over.
Harry also put away the newspaper and went upstairs to wash up.
He felt that his life was too healthy.
Although "young people shouldn't always stay up late" was correct,
The result of lying in bed too early was that Harry woke up in a daze at two o'clock. Then, he lay in bed with his eyes open and didn't know what to do. Get up and read a book.
He wasn't that diligent and studious.
After thinking for a long time,
Harry suddenly remembered the flying broom he saw in the storage room on the first floor during the day.
He sat up and looked at the sky outside.
It was clear and cloudless, and the stars filled the sky. It echoed with the sporadic lights in the town in the distance. Harry's heart skipped a beat and he gently got out of bed.
Because he didn't join the Quidditch team, Harry rarely touched the broom other than playing with it during the first-grade flying class. It wasn't that he didn't like this sport, but … the boy gently stepped on the broom and blushed. After all, he had to leave the opportunity to the young people.
But when he was really in the air, Harry still felt his blood boil. He circled the roof of Dumbledore's house lightly and did two professional feints. Harry had to suppress his desire to cheer.
After flying to his heart's content for more than ten minutes, Harry stopped the broom in mid-air and let out a long breath. He felt his whole body heat up. He looked down at Godric Valley. The small village was peacefully dreaming in the ring-shaped valley. The white-capped mountains in the distance were clearly visible under the night sky. The mountainside became a blur of black and white. Harry felt as if he could see the lake halfway up the mountain.
Lying down steadily on the broom, Harry closed his eyes and felt the chill of the winter night. Such a quiet night made Harry feel as if he was lying in the middle of a huge pond. He could clearly hear the sound of leaves falling together, the sound of snowflakes breaking dead branches, he could hear a thin sparrow chirping urgently, and he could also hear a group of meteors streaking across the sky and falling into the water with a sigh.
Naturally, Harry also heard that someone was rushing towards him on a flying broom. Moreover, there was probably no other person in the entire Godric Valley with such an aggressive aura. Harry wanted to open his eyes and greet Snape, but before he could put his thoughts into action, a sharp pain came from his left calf. The boy's expression immediately changed.
From Snape's point of view, it was as if the alert potion professor had suddenly woken up in the middle of the night, and had immediately taken out his magic wand to prepare to fight the enemy. However, when he turned his head, he saw the Potter family's little brat floating outside the window. When he took a closer look, he realized that he was lying on the flying broom in a suicidal posture. Unable to contain his anger (?) Snape immediately wanted to use a flying curse to teach little Potter a lesson, but considering that there was probably more than one person in the house who wanted the "surviving boy" to continue living, and that he might not be able to defeat all of them, the angry Potions Professor had no choice but to personally find a flying broom.
Damn it! It flew into the air and shouted for the silly boy to come down.
However, before Snape could shout, Potter's boy flipped over in front of his eyes and fell straight down. In his shock, Snape did something that he would regret for the rest of his life.
He shouted, "Harry!" and quickly reached out to grab the boy.
When Harry came back to his senses, he was already sitting in front of Snape, and that God knows how many stars had already lost its qualification to be a flying broom on the ground.
Harry, who was still in shock, heard Snape growling in a low voice behind him. "Potter!!! What the hell are you doing??? "
"I, I, I..." Harry felt quite wronged. "My calf is cramping..."
Caw —
How could there be crows howling in the middle of winter?
Snape felt that he was a very steady man, but he could not resist the urge to slap the boy's head. The Savior Boy, who was struggling under the Snake King's palm, howled in pain as he controlled the broom to prevent both of them from falling. He even took the time to ask, "Professor, so you know how to ride a broom?"
In fact, Harry had seen Snape ride a broom before, but in his memory, Snape seemed to hate brooms and Potter who was on them. So … Harry, who had survived the demon's clutches, touched his chin. "Professor, did you just call me Harry?"
Snape slapped Harry's hand away, regaining control of the broom with one hand, and almost couldn't resist the urge to strangle the boy's delicate little neck with the other.
But the boy, who liked to court death, wanted to add fuel to the fire. Seeing that the man didn't say a word, he turned his head with a silly smile and said, "Professor's pajamas are also of this style..." It was pure black, and a row of neatly arranged buttons had to be buttoned below the neck.
"It won't make you panic..." Before he could comment further, a pale but strong hand had already grabbed the boy's throat.
Snape couldn't see his own expression, but he could guess that it was not far from being ferocious. He purposely grinned, revealing his wicked sharp teeth. The boy's neck was warm and soft under the cold and rough palm, like a cub, just like the many small creatures he had dealt with before. He knew very well how much strength he could use to deal with such a small thing, and this memory made the man's eyes even colder.
But the boy in his hand only panicked for a moment at first, and then he just stared blankly at him with those damn green eyes. Those damn, harmless, clear green eyes. Trust in everything at a glance. Snape had doubted countless times where the boy's doubtful absolute trust in him came from. It obviously didn't come from an ordinary teacher-student relationship. He swore on the Dark Lord that Snape wasn't some f * cking model teacher.
Now, he had to do something a model teacher wouldn't do, such as moving his finger up a few inches to the boy's face.
Well, it seemed that the food in Hogwarts wasn't bad. The originally somewhat sharp chin was already considered round, but far from fat. It was just the texture of bone and flesh. The young, tender skin was burning under his fingers. Snape read some sort of docile signal again, which made him release his hand in annoyance. So the boy turned his head back, as if he was looking at the ground, but also as if he was looking into the distance.
Snape looked angrily at the small, red ear in front of him.
He must have been mad to do what he did next, instead of controlling the broom to return to the ground and shoving the damn Potter boy back into his room to sleep and have one or two f * cking teenage dreams.
He must have been mad to wrap his hand around the boy's waist and pull the young body towards himself.
When the two temperatures were stacked on top of each other, the twelve-year-old's eyes widened, and the thirty-two-year-old's body suddenly stiffened.
In the moment after that, there must have been a moment of vacuum in the world, so neither of them heard the other's heartbeat.
"Prof... Professor..." the boy's voice trembled as he subconsciously shouted.
The more mature one held the broom steady as he lowered his head, and then his heart skipped a beat. He saw that the boy had his eyes closed. The boy had a face that was similar to James Potter's, and his green eyes that were similar to Lily's were closed. The calm and docile shell peeled off, and frailty and panic leaked out.
"Harry... Potter?" Snape whispered the boy's name, and then tightened his hand around the boy's waist.
Just this alone made the boy's face heat up another level.
"Open your eyes."
Harry refused.
So Snape evilly leaned close to the boy's ear and whispered, "Ten points deducted from Gryffindor."
"Professor..."
Harry didn't know what he wanted to say, but no matter what he wanted to say, it was blocked by the man's lips.
It was an obscure kiss. First, the breath mingled, and then the exchange of lips and tongues.
Snape didn't think that he was a pedophile. First of all, he didn't think that the Potter under his control was an innocent child. He stole the boy's breath, disturbed the boy's will, and then kissed the boy's innocent expectation and unreserved trust. Who the hell knew where all this came from?
In between breaths, Harry almost opened his eyes, but the man considerately reached out and covered his eyes, and then engulfed him again with an unquestionable, stormy kiss.
Barely holding on to the front of Snape's clothes, Harry remembered two things in a daze. First, Snape used mint-flavored toothpaste before bed. Second, Snape was covering his eyes with one hand, and the other hand was holding his waist. So... who was controlling the broom now?
Snape, who felt the pain on his lips, looked up and saw the boy's inexplicably panicked face, and the rapidly rising mountains in the distance.
Before both of them could regain their senses, they fell into a big tree in a yard. The unusually soft branches formed a large net to catch them. Snape remembered to use his body as a cushion to press Harry in front of him, but their broom fell under the tree, and they became the second martyr of the night.
"Professor..." Harry looked up in a daze, still in a state of absent-mindedness.
Snape looked down and saw the boy's red and swollen lips. He couldn't help but swear. At the same time, the strange sound of a baby crying suddenly erupted around them, which was particularly eerie in the silent night.
"Wailing fruit?!" The Potions Professor immediately reacted.
"Bashida!!" Harry had already seen the lights in the house next to them turn on, and immediately hugged Snape tightly. "Professor, the servant has appeared!"
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