**This is the second to last story in the series. The others can be found, un-censored on my LJ and A03 accounts. Username Belladonna1185**

~Belladonna

Avarice

Snape was his. He knew it deep in his bones from the first. When he was younger, naïve, he was afraid of the wanting, the desperate tone the desire the man invoked with his snarling, biting language and vice-like grip. But as Harry grew older, wiser, more seasoned, he craved the sensation. Wanted to own him. Keep him close like a purse full of precious jewels.

The hard words, awful and hate-filled, the looks so full of…something that he wanted/needed to analyze and unravel, the worn, puritanical garb that he donned like a priest in the House of Harry's longing- all these things and more he required. Harry knew he would have them, world be damned.

What he felt every time he gazed at his professor's striking features was not kind or soft; it was hard and cool like coins against the skin.

Tender things were for people like Hermione and Ron who were as sickly sweet as syrup when they were together. They were a cloying kind of thing, nothing as profound as Harry and his desire.

Taking a deep breath, he marched through the doors of the dungeon as many had walked through the passageway to Hades, nervous and just a touch afraid. Today, the last day of the school term Harry was determined to let Snape know to whom he truly belonged.

"Mr. Potter. To what do I owe this unscheduled and unwanted appointment?"

"It's time," he says with supreme confidence.

"Pray tell, for what?"

"For you to be mine."

There is silence. Then heat. Then that something that he has never been able to figure out.

"Are you out of your mind?" Snape snarls. "Have you suffered some sort of head trauma? "

"Nothing wrong with my head. Well…maybe there is, but not in the way you mean," he says calmly. "What I mean to say is that you are mine. I own you and I've come to collect."

"How dare you! Own me?! Of all the preposterous things to ever have passed your lips—Wh-?"

With slight flare of his eyes, he silently spells his belonging to the chair, effectively interrupting his professor's ranting.

"Severus," He purred as he slinks sultrily onto the older man's lap." There is no use in fighting me. You're mine. And I've come to collect my first payment. A kiss."

His belonging opened his wicked mouth, but Harry shoved his tongue inside, tasting exploring, leaving them breathless before could bark out something scathing. A smug smile filled his face as he released a captive lip.

"Payment one: Complete. Thank you Severus. That was lovely, but you owe me so much more and I intend to collect. For you see…as Ebenezer coveted his gold, I covet you."

"You're mad," Snape whispered softly as he stares into Harry's eyes.

"You're mad," he whispers once more.

"I intend to keep you. You're mine and no other's. Not Voldemort's. Not Dumbledore's. But mine," he calmly states as he licks and nips at his possession's neck. "I'll take care of you. Treasure you. Keep you safe."

"You're mad," Snape utters one final time. It's barely audible, no more than a gentle breeze against Harry's cheek. Sanity doesn't matter so much as he begins to grind their bodies to together.

"Yes, it's quite possible, but I still want you."