Trouble with hp love at first sight

Harry didn't know how to change his and Severus' cohabitation life, but silence might be the antidote to make life continue to maintain superficial peace.

But the more this happened, the more the fire in his heart continued to grow, burning his heart into barrenness.

He couldn't do nothing, couldn't watch Severus sink into darkness.

And there's nothing he can do - he can't change history, he needs to go back, and in 1998 his professor was lying in St. Mungo's waiting for a bottle of snake venom that would cure him.

What can he do?

"Are you finally going to give up that ridiculous employment contract?" Snape took a sip of the black coffee in his cup, admiring the expression on Harry's face, frustration mixed with gloom, like a flame that was gradually cooling down Loss of temperature and then extinguished.

He stared at the face similar to James Potter, he hated but couldn't help liking it, he loved Daniel's innocence and kindness, he was like an unpredictable cloud—no, Daniel was very easy to understand, He just couldn't master him yet, and because of this, he couldn't put it down even more, wanting to conquer—or destroy.

"Are there new orders?" Harry looked at Snape, he calmed down his chilling heart, and his tone was as cold and hard as if he had put on armor.

He must be fully armed to avoid harm to himself.

Of course, he knew the best defense was offense, but he couldn't bear it.

How could he hurt Severus?

Snape put down the empty coffee cup, he got up and prepared to go to his research room, "Healing potions - oh, of course, some people can't even brew a cold potion, how can they make more complicated healing potions?" He sneered sarcastically.

Harry couldn't figure out for a moment who Snape was referring to, maybe it was the foursome.

But the healing potion—"Are you sure it's St. Mungo's order?" Harry had to question.

He was really afraid that Snape would go crazy enough to bring him into the vortex of the Death Eaters.

He should be fighting a bunch of lunatics instead of- not messing around with a Death Eater!

Harry's brain was throbbing again, as if someone was tearing at his consciousness, tearing him in half.

"I promise." Snape twitched the corners of his mouth, and he took a deep look at the stupid young man who didn't know it.

Harry could only follow.

But he did have that concern, and it made him suspicious and worried.

The healing potion is not considered a profound potion, although it is one of the difficult points in the NEWTs, once the practical test is drawn, more than half of the candidates will be miserable.

And Harry is very familiar with it. He can even tell the difference between St. Mungo's products and those made by their students with just a glance. He is so familiar with it that he almost drank the healing potion as water for a while. .So much so that when he smelled this familiar smell, he would feel dizzy and physically nauseated.

And he himself has done it himself, he needs to rely on himself for everything when fleeing, and he will become proficient the more times he does it.

"Have you brewed a healing potion?" Snape glanced at Harry who lowered his head to handle the white meat. Only experienced hands would know that to get the white meat, you need to peel off the silt and rough skin at the root, so that the white meat you can get Only the skin can meet the standard of being used as medicine.

"Yeah." Harry nodded, obviously he didn't want to say more.

He didn't know how to answer his question after talking too much - what would make a wizard have the experience of brewing a healing potion.

"But your technique is quite rough." Snape took the knife in Harry's hand, and taught him how to use the knife to peel the white skin, so that the skin would not be broken and the thickness would be even.

"So there is such a method." Harry stood aside and watched Snape grab Bai Xian's root with one hand, and then the knife—he didn't use the blade, but the back of the knife—turned a few times like this, Bai Xian's skin Just peeled off, a complete and evenly rolled cylindrical sheet.

"You are such a genius!" He looked at Snape, his eyes that had been dull for many days burst into a long-lost bright color.

Snape turned potions into a real art, not a tedious mechanical job.

Harry sighed, he couldn't reach this level himself.

Snape pursed his lips into a faint smile, walked up behind Harry, grabbed his hand, and breathed in Harry's ear, "You can do it too."

Harry tensed up, he was so frozen that he didn't even notice what Snape said.

"I - I can do it myself." He turned his head and broke free from the warm embrace.

He looked at the face in confusion, Snape lowered his head slightly, and the light in the room was only from the overhead lamp, making the face half-shadowed as if it was gloomy.

"You're rejecting me." Snape said coldly, staring at that face sullenly - damn, he could have used many means to achieve his goal, but when he and Daniel looked at each other, Seeing this face and those emerald green eyes that looked straight into the soul, he couldn't do anything.

Maybe he wasn't cruel enough, that's why he hasn't accomplished anything so far.

The wildfire in Snape's heart was spreading, scorching his heart, but he could only tighten his hands and let go.

What a profound magic this is, he can't do anything cruel to him.

"No." Harry looked at Snape, who was now finally able to distinguish him from the man 18 years later, "As you said, we are in an employment relationship, relying on me to help you complete the potion, If you provide me with room and board, then this relationship should not be mixed with other things."

He should have rejected Snape a long time ago, but he has been obsessed with it. What kind of drug was he drugged?

Snape snorted, he put the knife back to its original place, stepped back and motioned for Harry to continue making the potion, and he walked to the opposite cooking table to continue his research.

He needs to make some achievements as soon as possible, maybe when he becomes a master of potions, Daniel will come to pray for him.

He didn't say that as long as he was a master of potions - he would do anything.

Boiling the potion was faster than Harry imagined, and the time passed unconsciously as he sank into the pot of potion. He turned the stirring rod in his hand, and after half a circle, he saw the moment when the potion transformed. It turned from boiling bright silver to soft light yellow, calm and smooth, even the foam on the surface subsided.

Harry imitated Snape when he made the potion and sniffed the potion closely, but he could only smell the pungent peppery smell of the healing potion. He immediately turned his head and sneezed, wiping his nose and staring nervously at the inside of the cauldron. , found that the potion was all right, and met the gaze from the opposite side.

Harry put his hands down awkwardly and forced a smile.

"Come here." Snape put down his research and waved to Harry.

Harry hesitated, followed the steps to adjust the fire under the cauldron to medium fire, and then walked over.

"Don't tell me this order is not from St. Mungo's." He was worried.

"And if so?" Snape asked softly.

Harry glared at Snape, who stood two steps away from the dark-haired youth.

"You can't do this, Severus - I beg you, these potions are going to be weapons for the fall of the wizarding world. I can't see the day when the potions you send out are going to be my nightmare and I can't sleep! Because I'd dream about the people who disappeared, the Death Eaters who brought nothing but destruction, who were killing people who didn't - you know that, don't you?" said Harry.

Those eyes were so bright, he stared at the half-body in the shadow man through the lens, questioning.

His only answer was a sneer, "As I said, what do others have to do with me." Snape said coldly.

His whole body carried the coldness of walking alone, it was a coldness that could not cover him, it was a stubborn huge ice block.

He is used to being alone.

How can a person who is isolated from the world empathize with most people in this world?Snape owed them nothing, and he had no need to show mercy.

All because the Death Eater's destruction hadn't touched his immediate interests or hurt anyone he cared about.

So where is the concern on this lonely man's heart?

Harry thought about himself, but that was the Snape eighteen years later and not the present one.

"I really don't want you to be like that," said Harry.

His heart began to throb, and he had to grab the fabric on his left chest.

"So those healing potions - are they really for Death Eaters?" Harry looked at the potion that was about to be completed, his voice begging.

It's as if a traveler in the desert sees an oasis again—whether it's real or a illusory mirage—give him an answer to set him free.

"Of course," Snape said.He watched Harry go completely silent, as if overwhelmed by the cruel answer.

And Snape believed in the resilience of this young man, how could he be overwhelmed by such a small matter?

And he'll be even tastier after that, and he can't wait for the evening.

People in the dark can't look directly at the light, so he needs to dye the child of light black, and then Daniel will be ashamed of his kindness and hate the total darkness.

Drag him into his cave and Daniel will be all his, he won't go anywhere.

"I expect too much from you, it's unrealistic." Harry gave Snape a painful look, and he turned and walked out of the oppressive room that made him breathless.

He didn't want to face that face again—it would make him hate it, and hate his own depravity.

This wasn't the Snape he knew, not the double agent who wanted to do his job to the last moment, the man who protected him.

But—he really didn't know about Snape's past.

Harry sighed as he walked out, scratching his hair irritably, and headed for the stairs, first he had to move out of the bedroom—that little abandoned room would be nice, he could use Transfiguration to conjure a bed.

After Snape finished processing the order, he walked out of the research room and faced the dark living room without a single light. He walked up the stairs and had to notice the light coming from the utility room.

"You moved out." Snape stood at the door with his arms folded.

"Yes, I can't stand being in the same room as you." Harry said coldly, turning his head away.

He had made the beds, he had made the whole room—new, the magic was amazing.

The wallpaper was gold-red, which he liked, and the only triangular window had burgundy curtains. Everything was in Gryffindor hues, which stung Snape's eyes.

"Don't forget this is my home, you are still under the same roof as me." Snape stepped forward and pulled Harry's wrist, he snorted coldly, with flames hidden deep in his eyes, like volcanic ashes Spin in it.

He snorted in Harry's face, and a moment later he thrust the tormentor onto the bed and kissed him - but Harry turned his head so his lips fell on the fragile On a white neck that seemed to break easily.

Why would he have nothing to do with this Potter?

He can be tougher, go hurt him——

Harry was furious, and he grabbed it—it was the dictionary he used as a pillow—he really couldn't find a pillow, and he hadn't studied the transfiguration of cloth.

"Stop!" He slammed hard, and after getting a muffled groan, he pushed the person on top of him down.

He even tried to add a kick, only to find that he had smashed Snape's head off.

"Severus!" Harry dropped the murder weapon in horror.

He quickly got off the bed, he grabbed the wand, his beating heart almost jumped out of his chest, he suppressed all the distractions and stabilized his hand, raised the wand and said the hemostatic spell to the bleeding place, he was very skilled , within 1 minute the spell began to work.

"I'm sorry," he said dryly.

He really didn't expect to hurt Snape.

"That's how you treat me." Snape snorted, dropping his hand from the wound.

There is no need to stay here anymore...

Suddenly Harry hugged the cold-faced young man, and he kissed the newly healed forehead, then the oversized aquiline nose, and his pursed lips.

"Calm down," said Harry, in a coaxing tone, "you were the first to do that to me...and I..."

Snape's eyes moved, and he looked down at the softened young man.

"You mean it's my fault?" he sneered.

"Isn't it?" Harry looked up.

Snape was silent, and after a while he hugged the warm young man like a sun tightly.

This was his Daniel, the last one willing to be by his side, and the best, his treasure.

"That's St. Mungo's order." Snape's voice was so thick.

Harry grinned, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.

"There has been a small battle recently, and St. Mungo lacks this." Snape said, "The healing potions in the Death Eaters are purchased on the black market, and one or two pharmacists alone cannot complete such a large amount, Malfoy And Parkinson's will not be short of money."

He is actually explaining!

The corners of Harry's mouth widened, and he couldn't help giving his awkward bastard a kiss, oh - he tasted his tears, warm and salty.

But he thought it was the sweetest kiss ever.

"I want to know more about you," said Harry, hugging Snape tightly.

If no one was going to give Lasnape a hand, then he would.

If there is no one to love this withdrawn youth, then he will give love.

Maybe then Snape wouldn't be so cold, he'd have human emotions, he'd be kind instead of eccentric, and those warm emotions would heal him.Then he will know how to care about others, so as to understand the harm he has done to others.

Then Severus would be on their side.