Harry Potter and the book of oneshots (English translation)

Memories and Futur (Snarry)

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I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. All rights reserved by J.K Rowling.
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To start with a snarry...I still have a few snucius in stock but your wishes always come first. So keep them coming ;)

Have fun

<3

Lost in thought, Harry stared up at the clear starry sky. He no longer felt the cold stone beneath him. It was November and quite fresh, considering that he had left his cloak and wand in his room.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhausted.
He had travelled to Diagon Alley today, a Sunday afternoon, as the Potter had needed some more food for his faithful snowy owl Hedwig from the menagerie. But as soon as he was out of the shop, he was besieged by fans, all wanting an autograph from the "boy-who-lives".

Inwardly cursing his own stupidity for not having put an illusion over himself. He had silently stormed past the group of people, into the nearest chimney and fled to Hogwarts.

He had been lying here ever since, thinking about his life.
Not about his existence as Harry, but about that of the "hero of the wizarding world".
Actually, this was quite monotonous.
Voldi here, Voldemort there, and he was already its conqueror.

And he didn't even want that.
What use was his fame if he wanted to be treated like Harry?
A normal life, where you weren't spoken to every two seconds just because you were famous.

He drifted along the last few years, lost in memories, but more and more lost in thoughts of the man who seemed to hate his guts. However, he was secretly loved by the 17-year-old.
At first he had called it a silly adolescent crush, but his feelings for the man in black had grown stronger and stronger over the past year.

Harry had admitted to himself that he had learned to love the tall stature, the pale skin, the dark robes as well as hair and also the black lakes.
The velvety, deep voice, the elegant gait and its sensual movements when brewing potions. The sparkle in his eyes when the potions master told of his passion. All that was so beautiful, so perfect.

Yes, he, Harry Potter, well-known hate-student of Severus Snape, had fallen in love with the very same. He still didn't know how that could have happened, after all Snape had done to him. Even if many said otherwise, he had made peace with Snape's actions and now respected him.

A soft rustle startled him up from his reverie.
Oh great. How long had he lain here musing about Sever-Snape?
In any case, it was after curfew, but he didn't want to go back yet.

"What are you doing out here at such a late hour, Mister Potter?" a voice, all too familiar to him, croaked from the shadows of the small copse that was not part of the forbidden forest. After a few minutes of silence, the potions professor stepped out of the darkness.

Harry, who had flinched at Snape's voice, relaxed again.
Merlin, he was glad that Sev-Snape could not see his blush.

"Well, Mister Potter?" asked Severus again when he got no answer.

The student cleared his throat before sitting up.
"Professor, for once I wanted to get away from the crowds who always want to meet the 'hero of the wizarding world' and not Harry. That's actually why I was here.
I must have been overcome by sleep."

Snape's eyebrows twitched in surprise for a moment before he got his features back under control.
"Move over a bit, Potter." the potions professor sighed, shifting his weight onto his left foot.