Part Time Persuasion

The next day Harry arrived at work he was a lot more calm. Mr Sadler had eventually relented and told him that it was really no big deal, it was an easy mistake to make and that it was probably his fault for leaving him to do it by himself. As a gesture of goodwill, he even let him have some of his ginger nut biscuits that he kept by the cauldron in the back room and had previously been out of bounds 'on pain of a very untimely death' to Harry. He'd also sent Harry out to the sweet shop to acquire festive candy to offer to customers, and had said with an almost devious twinkle in his eye that Harry could help himself to a few if he felt like it.

The day passed fairly uneventfully this time. Harry managed not to blow anything up and was commended on his use of wand work when controlling the development tray with spells. Mr Sadler began to show him how the till worked and introduced him to the layout of the front of the shop. Harry began to feel as if he was actually learning something worthwhile and actually began to enjoy himself. He liked serving customers and helping them with their orders and it seemed as if everything was going right.

"It's a little sticky," Mr Sadler was saying. "I think the till has a gremlin in it. Just give it a bit of Alohomora if it won't open. And it's very important you get them to infuse this form with magic, otherwise they'll just stay static." The bell rung merrily as the door swung open, and under his breath he continued, "Remember Harry, keep a happy face!"

It turned out a forced 'happy face' wasn't required as it was Ron. Harry grinned widely, trying to suppress the feeling of guilt when he realized that he hadn't seen his friend in a while. "Hey!"

"Alright? How's it going? I've got some photos to develop. It's Fred and George's - I think it was from this party they went to. Or something. Anyway. Here you go."

Harry got him to touch his wand to the form and took down the details. He also offered Ron a sweet, which he took with some suspicion - probably his brothers' influence."Thanks for popping in, Ron," he said eventually.

"That's all right. I should be over later - my mum's presents to all of us have all the wrong labels on - I think you've got mine. I'll bring yours over later." His eyes suddenly lit up with inspiration. "Why don't you just take the photos back with you and give them to me when we're back in the Tower?"

Harry went to say yes, then looked over at Mr Sadler. "An excellent idea, providing the customer leaves his payment first."

Harry took Ron's money and deposited it in the somewhat reluctant till, wished him a Merry Christmas, and got on with work.

It was around closing time when the final customer arrived. Mr Sadler was sweeping the back stairs and Harry was in the front of the shop. The bell rung and he looked up, only to be faced with Snape. His face was far from surprised (even imagining his face surprised was difficult) but instead sour looking. Harry, however, was surprised, and tried to create a better barrier than the counter between them. Unfortunately, the only thing to hand was the festive sweet tin, and holding it to his chest, squeaked, "Care for a festive chocolate?"

Snape looked at him with something between suspicion and pity. "What are you doing here, Potter."

"I work here, Professor."

There was a slight pause while Snape looked Harry up and down, then he slowly reached out and removed a sweet from the tin. "Do you now."

"Yes, Professor."

"Well might I suggest that you work instead of standing here looking at me gormlessly?"

Harry suddenly hoped that the chocolate was poisoned, and hurried to the back where the finished films were kept. He searched under 'S', eventually finding "Snape, S." somewhere near the back. He went back to his tormentor, who was chewing with some distain. Snape's onyx eyes met his as he approached. "The bin, boy," he demanded. Harry fetched up the wicker basket from the floor, feeling only slight nausea when Snape hacked the sweet he was chewing into the depths of it. "Just to inform you that the orange ones taste like bollocks stewed in urine. It's utterly foul. Unless you want to scare away the customers more than your presence here actually does, I suggest you remove them."

"Sorry, Professor. I had no idea you liked chocolate."

"Don't pretend to be interested, Potter. It's utterly sick-making." He held out his long white fingers for the folder in Harry's hands. Harry passed them over. He felt an intense wish for the potions master to find no fault with them, part because he wanted to prove he was actually good at something for once, and part because he wanted the transaction to be over as quickly as possible. He watched as Snape's deft fingers searched through them. Eventually, he slammed the photos down on the desk before Harry.
"These aren't my photographs."

Harry was bewieldered. "Yes they are...it says your name on the-"

"Potter," Snape drawled distastefully. "Look at them. Come here and look at them." Harry edged forward and looked down at the images. They were family photographs, grinning children, smiling parents. A birthday party. "Do these look like my photographs? Am I the sort of person to have such idiotic celebrations?"

Harry felt some sort of embarrassment wash over him, but he squashed it firmly and looked up at the Potions Master. "I don't know, Professor, but if you have I certainly wasn't invited."

Snape's glaring eyes burned into his. "Consider this, Potter," he growled, spitting out his name like he'd done moments before to the chocolate. "Were we not in a public place right now I would gladly forcibly remove several parts of your anatomy and..."

"I don't think Voldemort would be too pleased with you if you did that," Harry pointed out.

Snape's eyes went wide and Harry suddenly wondered if he was going to explode. He went to speak, but Mr Sadler's face appeared round the partition. "Everything okay, Harry?"

Snape straightened up. "Mr Potter was just in the middle of insulting my intelligence, Mr Sadler. He was trying to convince me that these photographs are mine when it would be clear to even the most dimwitted numbskull," - here he looked pointedly at Harry - "That they are not."

Mr Sadler's brow knitted. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr Snape, I-"

"You will find them, Mr Sadler. You will have them delivered to my rooms at Hogwarts by the end of the evening. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Mr Snape."

He gave a curt nod and left the shop, the bell twanging after him. Harry felt indignant again, and Mr Sadler's eyes were burning into him. After such a good day, he felt almost disappointed with himself. Mr Sadler carried on sweeping and Harry headed to the back of the shop to find Snape's photographs. He found the folder marked 'Snape,S' in the bag marked 'Meredith, N" after some searching picked up Ron's folder, then went back to the manager. "I found them, Mr Sadler. Shall I take them to him?"

"Certainly, Harry. Have a good evening." As he got to the door, he called out again. "And remember, Harry. The customer is always right."

Unless he's a greasy haired hook-nosed bastard, Harry felt like pointing out, but nodded and shut the door behind him.

There was a definite chill in the night air and the snow was falling thick and fast. He hurried his way through Hogsmeade, flicking his way through Ron's photos as he went. They were your usual drunken shots; bums, beer and boobs and the occasional leering face of Fred or George in the foreground while some very strange and possibly disturbing occurrence happened in the background, so he put them back in his rucksack and hurried back to Hogwarts.

Once inside he shrugged off the snow with some annoyance. His glasses had steamed up horribly and he stood, half-blind and bedraggled with wet snow for a few moments while he stood and rubbed the steam off his glasses. He knew Snape wasn't likely to be a patient sort and so made up his mind to make Ron's photo delivery as quickly as possible.

However, hurrying up to Gryffindor Tower, he found Ron wasn't in. He left the photos on his bed instead and backtracked his way down to the Potion's Master's rooms, which he had some vague recollection of being somewhere near the dungeons. This time he didn't see the need to hurry. It was only when he was safely in the smaller corridors that he decided that since he was delivering Snape's photos out of the kindness of his heart, and since Snape had been a snarky bastard to him, that he'd probably best take a look at the photos.

He wasn't sure what he expected to see really. Death Eater rites? Did death Eaters carry cameras around with them? He threw that idea away immediately. Some seedy, yucky thing that would get him sacked forever? He liked that idea best.

What he did see was something entirely different. From the first moment that he unfolded the packaging and saw a slither of alabaster skin on a black background, a heavy feeling settled in his stomach. A feeling that he should not see what he was seeing.

What he did see was a naked Snape

Snape.

Naked.

S-n-a-k-e-d.

The photos clattered with a papery slap to the floor and Harry stared at them. It was a few seconds before he'd gathered up the courage to pick them up again.

The trouble was, they weren't that bad. That is to say, Harry had expected Snape, slimy, unattractive Snape, to have some disgusting physical deformity to match his disgusting insides. But it wasn't all that bad. He had quite a... commendable body really. For a slimy greasy git. And he wasn't all naked. Not in the first ones. They weren't porn in any sense of the word; they were artistically done, well lit, and obviously carried out by a someone who knew what they were doing. And it wasn't until halfway through the set, after the soft black satin boxers that you got to see anything at all anyway. They were actually quite good.

Harry became suddenly aware of the fact the heavy feeling in his stomach had settled into a raging erection.

He cringed inwardly. To be turned on by naked photos of a guy... but naked photos of Snape? Erk.

He shoved them back in the folder and hurried off down the corridor, willing his hard on to go away. However, it proved to be stubborn and still hadn't wilted away by the time Harry had reached his destination.

"Oh god!" he whined quietly, raising his hand to the knocker on the door. There was nothing he could do. It was one of those erections which definitely resulted in a good wank and preferably within the shortest amount of time possible. But he couldn't go away and come back later - he had to get these photos out of his possession before anyone else found them, because then Snape would make his life an utter living hell...

The door swung open before he could knock a second time.

"Yes?" a silky voice said.

"Photos, professor," Harry said, trying to keep his voice level. A white hand came out from the door and took the folder from his hands. Snape shuffled through them quickly before looking up.

"Thank you, Potter," he said quietly, and shut the door.