Harry Potter One Shots

Snarry- Heather

Suggested by Zooboomafoo_123 If you're concerned about Harry's age, he's old enough to make that decision himself (I know he's a minor, but I don't know how to fix that at this point). We can say that Snape is younger to make the age difference less if that makes you feel better. If you don't like Snarry, don't read this. I don't care if you don't like it, and I don't want to hear about it in the comments. I have readers who like Snarry, this is for them. That's all. Enjoy.

One day in December, (6th year or 8th year) Harry Potter had detention with Professor Snape. He dusted the shelves in his office. The job was easy, especially compared to past chores.

"Anything else, Professor?" He asked as he went to where Snape was sitting at his desk.

Severus Snape, who had been crying, let out a soft "No, you can go" without meeting Harry's eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Potter. Leave me alone."

Harry, who had a knack for ignoring orders, did not leave Snape alone.

"You can tell me."

"No, Potter, I can't."

"You will feel better if you get it out. Trust me. I won't tell a soul what I hear."

Snape decided to trust Harry Potter, something he wouldn't have usually done. He told him about his long day and the student that yelled at him earlier. He told him about his lack of family and his lack of friends.

Harry just listened while Severus vented, and he put his arm on Snape's back when he cried.

Eventually, the two were having a full conversation, not just Snape venting anymore.

At one point, Harry asked, "Can I braid your hair?"

Severus almost said no, but he couldn't seem to say no to Harry. Harry sat closer and started playing with Snape's hair, which wasn't as greasy as it looked. He gave him some french braids.

Harry handed Snape a small mirror from his desk drawer. Severus liked the braids. He hated himself and how he looked, but the braids reminded him of Harry, and they made him look good.

"Why don't you ever do this to your hair?" he asked Harry.

"Oh, I don't know how to. Besides, the braids look better on you."

Severus could feel his face getting hot, and he put the mirror away abruptly. He stood up and thanked Harry for listening. He left the room and walked to his bedroom.

The next day in class, he still had the braids in. They made him feel better somehow. They were a token of Harry.

Occasionally, Harry would come to Snape's office and braid his hair. They would talk about everything. They started addressing each other by their first names. Both of them looked forward to Thursdays every week because that was their day, at least, until it wasn't.

Harry started spending more time with Ginny Weasley, and the Thursday meetings came to a halt. Severus found himself jealous of her. Every aspect of her. He wanted to be Ginny Weasley. He wanted to be a young teenage girl, all because it would mean Harry would be attracted to him. What hurt the most was when Harry started braiding Ginny's hair. It was only hair, but Severus thought that it had been their thing.

Severus Snape, who had written a few poems before, sat down and channeled his jealousy and sadness into a poem.

I still remember that day in detention, you braided my hair
You said it looked better on me than it would you

Only if you knew how much I liked you, but I watch your eyes as she

Walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerized while I die

Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your Thursday, it's only a weekday
But you're not even gay
Wish I were Ginny

Watch as she stands with her holding your hand
Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder
I have reason to hate her, she's a Gryffindor
But so are you, kinda wish she were dead as she

Walks by

What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerized while I die

Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your Thursday, it's only a weekday
But you're not even gay
Wish I were Ginny

Tears streaming down his face and onto the paper, Severus gently closed the journal and put it back in his drawer.

He collapsed into his arms and let out his tears. His body shaked as the sobs came, intense enough to move through his body.

He did not hear the door open, but he felt a familiar hand on his back.

"What are you doing here?" The words stung as they came out.

"Honestly? I don't know, Sev. You're my friend and I'm here for you," Harry said, much calmer than the sobbing man next to him.

"Yeah, I'm your friend." Though Severus was feeling angry and sad, he was glad that Harry was there for him. Although he certainly wouldn't be telling him what the problem was.