Unpredictable Life

~ Chapter 4: The Things He Gets For His Birthday ~

Wednesday, 31^st July 1996.

Harry slowly awakened from his slumber, realized that his head was pounding and cursed Snape, but in a halfhearted manner. He remained in his bed, thankful that Snape had let him sleep. I don't believe that I actually made it through Potions. His OWL results had surprised him so much that he had forgotten he was angry with the Potions Master the day before.

And I'm already sixteen, Harry thought in amusement. He turned over and lay on his stomach. One hand grappled for the sketchbook beneath his pillow and he flipped to its newest page. The other hand grabbed his glasses and he put them on. He slowly got up and knelt, all the while facing the drawing. He was already hard but the fact that Snape was living with him was almost like a miracle. I wish that I was brave enough to seduce him. He slid his hand into his pajama bottoms and moaned as he slowly stroked himself, shuddering as he felt the wetness that told of his excitement.

Get off the bed, Harry, he said silently to himself. You will make a mess on your bed if... He gasped and quickly moved away. Images of the Potions Master flashed into his mind and he groaned, trying to stave off his pleasure for as long as he could. No, you idiot. He might try to come in at any moment.

Bloody hell. He hissed, his vision graying as he came closer to the edge of release. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and he panted, unconsciously calling out the Potions Master's first name. Sev ... Harry climaxed all over his hand but didn't cease his strokes. Have to move ... Clean up...

~*~

Snape carefully tread the stairs, slowly putting pressure on the squeaky step. It was his habit to move around silently and it never hurt to be as silent as a shadow. He was about to wake his ward but when he heard noises coming from the bedroom, he paused outside the door.

"Se..." The Potions Master assumed the boy was calling someone's name but the wizard didn't realize that the Gryffindor was actually calling out to him. Nevertheless, Snape's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Dare I guess as to what he is doing? He shook his head briefly. It is none of my business anyway. He stared at the dark brown door and considered his approach. It would serve him right if I Apparated into his room. A pity that I can't. The thought of catching the boy doing something he wasn't supposed to delighted him immensely. The doorbell rang at that moment. Aren't you lucky? Snape cursed silently and went to get the door.

The wizard pressed the palm of his hand on the door. Muggles. They should have a goddamn peephole... He opened the door and faced a very young mail carrier carrying several parcels. To his amusement, Snape saw that there were more laying just beside the young man's feet.

"Mister Harry Potter?" the postman asked, lips trembling a little in nervousness.

"He is asleep," Snape replied smoothly.

"Oh, then would you please sign this, sir?" The postman handed over a board with receipts attached to it.

"Very well." Snape quickly signed all of the papers and returned the board to the man. Their hands accidentally touched while the parcels were passed to the Potions Master. A small smile escaped the wizard at the man's flustered behavior.

"Uhmmm ... do you need help with the rest?"

"I can manage," Snape replied quietly. The mail carrier smiled and nodded his goodbye before he went to his van. The wizard stood by the doorway watching the vehicle leave. After he scanned the neighborhood, the professor gathered the gifts up. Once the door was closed, he levitated the parcels and arranged them neatly on the coffee table. There were nine in all and he wondered about the day's significance. He carefully examined each parcel and was rewarded with a drawing that was sketched on the side of one of them. So, it's the Golden Boy's birthday. Sixteen. I wasn't aware that he was that young. He stacked them up cautiously, not wanting to upset the contents of the parcels.

:It's because he has never acted like a person who had a normal childhood,: a small voice penetrated his mind.

He snorted. :Like someone who's magical born can ever have a normal childhood.:

:But not every child lives every minute of his life expecting to be killed at any moment,: the voice countered.

:Each person, be it child or adult, has their own destiny to fulfill. It's up to that person if he or she wants to carry it out.:

He scowled as he entered the kitchen. I can't believe I'm talking to myself again -- at my age.

:How many times must I remind you that you are not talking to yourself?:

Snape let out a sarcastic laugh. :Then prove it. Show me that you are real.: He gave a derisive snort and absently decided to prepare something nice for lunch. When is he coming down? He had already marinated a bit of fish and had planned to bake a cake. But this is not a birthday celebration. Rolling up his sleeves, he began to sift some flour and baking powder together. What flavor shall I make? Chocolate? Butter? Or spice? Does he even like spice? He smiled devilishly. Spice then.

:And if he doesn't?: the voice interrupted his concentration.

:Then I will eat it all myself.:

Snape chopped some butter and dropped it inside a mixing bowl. He added sugar before summoning the whisk; he couldn't be bothered using the electric mixer so he whisked the contents magically. He was just about to add the spice when he felt like he was being watched.

He turned slowly and nearly dropped the bottle when he saw a pair of red eyes staring at him intently.

:Here I am, Severus. Actually, I'm a little surprised that you hadn't figured it out yet. Albus said that you're an intelligent man -- and I believe him -- but I wonder how this escaped you,:

Fawkes spoke, sounding very smug as the phoenix preened his feathers. Snape couldn't react at all. :I think you had better get back to your task, Severus. The batter's fluffy enough.:

Snape numbly turned back and was careful not to dump the entire contents of the bottle. His hands were shaking horribly and he heard Fawkes titter lightly in the background. :But that's impossible. I heard you when I was a child.:

:So you did.:

:But you weren't --:

:Severus, don't be a fool. I am a phoenix. I was already here even before Albus was born,: Fawkes said a little acidly.

:Does he know?: The Potions Master swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

:Of course he does. It would be terribly impolite if I had kept it a secret.: Fawkes gazed at him in the same way the Headmaster did. :I told him when you turned twenty-four.:

:Does he know? That I --:

:Killed twelve wizards who were going over to Voldemort?: Fawkes tilted his head, still gazing piercingly at the man. Snape, though he couldn't see, was still able to feel the stare as he slowly tipped the flour to mix with the rest of the batter. :What do you think I am? Some sort of a spy? I don't tell Dumbledore anything but things he should know. You just helped to lessen Voldemort's fighting force, that's all.:

:They could have turned back. Turned their backs on him.: Snape trembled and alarm started to build up in him.

:Like the way you did?: Fawkes hazarded. :Those men didn't have what it takes to survive the truth of being an informer, much less dare to try and get onto the right path. However, you -- you are still alive, even though you know that Voldemort knew about your loyalty a long time ago.:

:Then why hasn't he made any move to kill me?: Snape dared to insinuate a challenging tone with his thought.

:For once in your life, Severus, can you try to be less self-centered?: Fawkes sounded aggravated. :I'm not saying that you should ignore your life altogether but this whole business isn't about you. It's about --:

:Potter.: Snape looked disgruntled at that. He closed the door of the oven and turned back to watch the phoenix.

:Harry,: Fawkes said in a chilling voice -- mentally of course. :You've spent most of your life consorting with death and danger, Severus. However, young Harry hasn't even a clue as to what he is doing. The boy really needs to learn Occlumency and offensive magic. Time is running against him. He needs to be ready and able, at the very least, to defend himself against a group of Death Eaters on his own. Not all of us can always be somewhere at the right time.:

:I've tried my best teaching him to defend his own mind but he hasn't even grasped the basics!: Snape bristled in anger.

:Stop barking at him then. Be patient, Severus. The boy needs to know that you are teaching him something worthwhile and not something that he was forced into. He is already forced into his destiny so give him a break. I ought to go. You are fueling me with your anger and that isn't wise. Harry is showering by the way.: Fawkes stared at him again. :You are attracted to the boy, aren't you?: the phoenix asked shrewdly. :I hope it is not because of the drawings.:

Snape didn't reply but glared.

:Oh, so you like him because of his waist...:

:Stop messing about in my head!: Snape swore. Fawkes tittered loudly.

:I guess the boy looks all right, but he really needs to put on a bit more weight. He looks like a walking stick. But we can depend on you to help him put on a bit of meat, right? Albus is calling me. I'll drop by again.:

Snape wasn't able to get his last words in as Fawkes disappeared and the presence in his mind became silent. The wizard slowly recited every curse he knew and attempted a breathing exercise to calm himself. Be patient? With someone who fires my anger every single time he say's 'I'm trying!'? And if he's not aggravating my temper, he's leaving me sexually frustrated every time he sneaks into the kitchen at night and dares to stop in the living room to straighten the blanket covering me? The wizard sat down and rubbed his temples. What am I going to do?

~*~

Harry slowly descended the stairs and crept quietly into the living room, hoping that Snape wouldn't catch him sneaking past the kitchen. From the top of the stairs, he could faintly see the boxes on the table and guessed that they were from his friends. The boy became so engrossed in unwrapping one of the boxes that he was not aware of the professor watching him from the hallway. Harry's eyes bulged at the pair of Nike shoes he had uncovered. Bloody hell! Did Hermione get me this? The boy looked into the package for a note or a letter but all he could find was a cassette tape.

"Good afternoon, Potter." Harry gave a small squeak and jumped, nearly tossing the cassette in his grip. Snape chuckled quietly. The Gryffindor blinked his eyes rapidly. I did not witness that.

"Afternoon, S-Sir," Harry replied. He almost called the Potions Master 'Sev' but luckily, the older wizard mistook his stutter for discomfiture. The scent of something being baked wafted into the room. Harry felt more incredulous but was careful to turn his face away. Now this is ridiculous. He can't possibly be baking a cake, right? Harry moved to the right side of the fireplace -- his relatives already had a radio set -- and knelt to insert the cassette into the tape player. He adjusted the volume and pressed the 'PLAY' button. Scratchy noises followed and then he heard Ron's voice.

"'Mione? Are you sure this is going to work?" the voice sounded dubious.

"Trust me," Hermione answered and Harry could just picture her glaring impatiently at Ron. Wait a minute. Does that mean Ron's over at Hermione's place?

"Hermione, it doesn't make any sense," an unfamiliar male voice spoke. "You are going to put that cassette into your box, right? What's the probability that your friend will open your present first?"

"Your dad's right," Ron piped up.

"I know that Harry is going to pick my box first. I agree that the odds of him picking my box first are one out of nine but

--"

"Hermione suggested that I cast a spell on her box that will scream 'Blue' to Harry's eyes."

That was Remus. That's odd. He doesn't sound tired. I thought we had a full moon yesterday. And what's weirder, I haven't seen Sev brewing any potions since he got here.

"Why blue?"

the voice that belonged to Hermione's dad asked curiously.

"I don't know, but for some reason, almost all of Harry's shirts are in shades of blue,"

Hermione answered. "I think blue is his favorite color."

"Are you sure? I thought you were the one who is obsessed with blue,"

Ron teased. Harry blushed at Hermione's acute observation. Oh no. It sounds as if I'm getting predictable. Without looking, Harry sat back on the couch -- directly on Snape's lap. The Gryffindor froze although a distant part of his mind berated him for choosing to sit in the middle of the couch.

"Really, Mister Potter. Did you not notice that I was resting here or have you deliberately seated yourself on me?" While Harry remained immobile, the blood draining quickly from his head -- to some other part of his body, the tape continued to play.

"I think my taste has been running to red lately. The color of your hair to be more precise."

Harry coughed. Was that a hint? So she does like him. The slightest touch on his waist jerked his attention back to reality once again and he quickly scrambled off the Potions Master. He landed hard on his rear in his haste and nearly bumped his head against the table. Again, Snape chuckled and Harry pondered on the possibility that someone had imposed a Cheering Charm on the normally solemn wizard.

Snape snickered. "Really, Potter. I do not mind you sitting on me at all," the wizard said silkily.

"Thanks for the offer but I'll keep to my personal space," Harry retorted automatically. Bloody hell. Sev, what the hell are you playing at? He shot a murderous glare at his tutor. Serves you right if I were to say that you look incredibly tempting resting like that. I would like to do more than just sit on your thighs, damn you.

"Anyway, Harry, happy birthday! You're sweet sixteen now!" Hermione congratulated him. "Remus dropped by my place so that we could send your presents en masse. We wanted to ask Dobby if he could help but Professor Dumbledore warned us against it."

"If I remember correctly, Dumbledore said that your temporary guardian has cast a charm to prevent house-elf or any other sort of magical traffic," Remus explained. Oh, Harry scratched his arm. I guess that explains the sensation of electricity running through the house when he first stepped inside.

"Just who is taking care of you right now?"

Ron asked impatiently. "Even Remus is unclear as to who it is. I hope it's not Snape or you'll be probably having a hell of time controlling your temper." There was a pause and suddenly Ron exclaimed, "Bloody hell! It's not Snape right?! Harry send a -- what do you call it?"

"E-mail,"

Hermione answered.

"Right, email. Hermione said you know how to work that bloody Muggle appliance. Send an email to her and confirm that it is not the greasy bastard who's with you."

"Ron!!!"

Loud thuds and protests followed.

"Dumbledore advised us not to owl each other; safer for the birds to just stay with us,"

Hermione continued.

"Hope you aren't surprised by that," Harry said casually to the Potions Master, who no doubt, heard every word that Ron had uttered.

"Unfortunately no, I am not surprised," Snape drawled and Harry shivered at the sound of it. The boy turned his attention back to his friends' voices.

"Well, Harry. I hope you like the shoes and unless you've gone through another growth spurt, the pair should fit you."

There were sounds of laughter and Harry could hear Ron asking someone to shut up. "Ron just reached one hundred and eight-five centimeters. He's like a walking giant in here."

Hermione kept on talking about the presents that he would receive and his interest perked up when Remus said that he had something valuable to give him but it wasn't practical to post it by owl or Muggle mail.

"You've wasted enough time as it is, Potter," Snape's voice penetrated his mind. "We'll start with Occlumency in an hour's time." Harry felt the Potions Master get up and unbelievably, felt his hair being stroked gently. The Gryffindor whipped his head about to stare at the wizard but Snape had already gone back to the kitchen.

Was that intentional? Or accidental? Harry bit his lower lip, feeling his heart race within him. This is insane. Mental... I think I'm in love with him just because he touched me. The boy half-listened to the tape that was playing as he examined one of his other presents. Small colored cupcakes were revealed and Harry picked one up to study it. He sniffed it. The cake has a nice aroma.

"Potter! If Hagrid has sent you anything so much as resembling a cake, do not eat it!" Snape shouted. "Unless you want to spend the rest of the day with a bloated stomach!"

What the -- Harry spluttered and choked. He gasped and his eyes watered heavily. A huge amount of saliva began to flood his mouth to help ease the spiciness and hotness of the cake that Harry had bit into.

"I guess my warning came a little too late," Snape said slyly.

Blast you! Harry would have cried but he couldn't, not in front of the Potions Master.

"Here." Snape handed him a glass of water.

Harry accepted it and was about to drink from the glass when a thought occurred in his mind. "What is it?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"A love potion, Mister Potter," Snape replied silkily. "What else can you expect from me?" At Harry's horrified look -- although the boy was anticipating it at the same time -- the Potions Master snorted. "It's just water and plenty of sugar. In any case, you need the energy for the Occlumency exercise."

After a long drink, Harry stood up from his sitting position on the floor. "How in the hell did you know about the cake?"

"Perhaps because I aided the gamekeeper in getting the pepper responsible for the 'kick'?" Snape raised an eyebrow gracefully, lips curling into a faint smile. "I would have introduced him to the Mexican species if I had known that the man was going to let you sample it."

As Harry watched the Potions Master pass through the kitchen doorway, the Gryffindor couldn't help but begin planning ways to carry out a bit of revenge, both for Hagrid's cake and the older wizard's uncharacteristic behavior. For some reason, I think I like the hateful and bitter Sev more. Harry sighed and his stomach gave a loud growl. He slowly went into the kitchen and secretly appreciated the view as Snape bent over to get the cake he had baked out of the oven. I'm hopeless.

~*~