*Final story in The Seven Deadly Sins Series. The Complete Series can be found on my LJ and A03 under my username: Belladonna1185**

Lust

Part 1: Harry

Love is complex- incomprehensible in scope, intangible as a snowflake in the palm of your hand. Hate is… multifarious. It rends cities to ruin, turns mother from child, friend becomes foe, makes a killer out of the meek.

You know what they say. It's a thin line between love and hate.

It's true and it isn't.

What this is….it isn't love, but it's not hate either. Whatever this limbo is, a line has been crossed, that much is true, but a line into what? I've, we've crossed over into uncharted territory. As Shakespeare deftly put it: The Undiscovered Country.

We both feel it. We don't need to speak with words. Eyes are enough. Like now. I feel him penetrating me from across the room. It's indecent in its intensity. How no one realizes, how no one sees is a mystery. It's there, as blatant as the nose on his face.

I smirk at the thought. He really is an ugly man. Ugly inside, outside and beyond. And yet….

I look around the room, to my left Hermione, rapidly taking notes on things she has already mastered, to my right, Ron, who is practically asleep in his cauldron. It is right there, in the room, in this moment. It is happening and not even my best friends notice.

Maybe he's right. Maybe we are dunderheads, incompetent children, and worse. I can't claim to be one of them anymore. Not now. Not with his eyes ensnaring me like small game. I see.

How did we get here? We hate each other more deeply than can be expressed…yet now there's this intangible, indescribable something that's flipped the world's axis. Right is wrong. Black is white. Good and Evil mean less than nothing.

"Mr. Potter," he snarls and I just want to hit him, wipe that smug look off his ill-featured face.

"Do pay attention. Even one such as yourself is not so learned, so knowledgeable, that they can choose to not pay attention in my class."

"I am paying attention," I snap.

And I am. I'm paying attention to the lesson unspoken.

"Enough Mr. Potter. My office. Now."

With lead feet, I trudge across the expansive room to the inner sanctum of my enemy. The door closes. And he's behind me, scalding me, an inferno against my back. His claws sink into my flesh as he whorls me to face him.

We see. Now there is perfect understanding. We both know it was bound to happen. Fated.

You kiss me and I feel like I'm dying.

And now I know what this limbo is called.

It's a very thin line between Hate and…Hunger.

Part 2: Snape

How is it that this boy steals my rational thought? He is disgustingly like his father. Arrogant, cocksure, rash, and absolutely certain that he knows how the world works. A true Gryffindor.

Yes, Harry Potter: God Among Men. Icon of the Light.

Disgusting.

And once again, our eyes meet, lock, meld.

It's amusing to me in the extreme that he hasn't figured this out. As with most things, true comprehension is just out of reach. Granger cannot help him decipher this puzzle. He must do it alone.

I can't help but smirk at his confusion.

"Mr. Potter," I say in my trademark venomous tones. "Do pay attention. Even one such as yourself is not so learned, so knowledgeable, that they can choose to not pay attention in my class."

I can tell he wants to hit me, but knows that he can't. To strike a teacher is beyond the pale. He is powerless and I love it.

"I am paying attention," he petulantly replies.

And he is. He's watching me, watching the class to see if they can tell what's between us. He's paying attention, but I can't help but goad him. The small pleasures in life.

"Enough Mr. Potter. My office. Now."

I've had enough of this game. He needs to grasp the concept. I'm so tired of this exasperatingly, long match we've been playing. It's time to take the Queen.

I quickly close the door, grab him and turn him to face me. I delve into the haven of your mouth and I know you finally understand.

We are forever locked you and I. Enemies- we still hate each other, but now there's….more. A new dimension, a newfound facet to our epic tale.

You moan so beautifully as you melt into my touch. Your taste is addictive. I need to see your eyes, look at the canvas I wish to paint before I move forward.

And, Yes, it's there. The hunger.

"Mr. Potter," I purr.

"Snape," he growls.

I slip my hands into his robes and stroke his filling cock. He moans, jerks into my touch, craving more even though this changes nothing.

We will never be friends.

"Snape," he sighs as he slides his fingers into my hair, wanting me to kiss him once more.

I'll give it to him. I'll give him everything.

Checkmate.