You teach me how to feel

It feels all right

He never knew exactly when everything started, nor did he care. Severus Snape, age 17, was in love, and that was everything.

It had begun as a relationship of convenience. He knew she was the only one he could always count on. She would always be there for him, waiting for him to use her, no strings attached, no flowers, no absurd relationship nonsense.

At first, he didn't love her, he wanted to be with someone else, but Sirius Black, the object of his affection, was too busy playing with his werewolf pet and always made fun of the thick, yet light layer of grease on his hair and his not-so-very-petite nose. Every now and then, Severus wanted to tell him that the 'big nose, big wang' adage wasn't a myth in his case, but the fear of being ridiculed (and hexed into oblivion) always made him reconsider. Regulus Black had hinted he might want something more than just casual friendship, but Severus Snape wasn't the sort of person who settled for second best, no. Besides, he had her

You teach me how to love

Parts of myself

He was becoming an addict, really. He needed to be with her in the morning, at lunchtime, in the afternoon, and every single night. Sometimes he would even invent excuses to leave the classroom, so lost he was in his lust and so eager was she to give him infinite pleasure.

Of course, not everything was a bed of roses in their relationship, but Severus Snape wasn't a bloke who backed off after a few bumps in the road, no. He always took care of his problems the minute they presented themselves, and thus when his lover silently (Severus loved how quiet she was- the exact opposite of the obnoxious Sirius Black, his former interest) complained he wasn't treating her properly, he would immediately give her a treatment with the finest oils and potions, made especially for her, until she was as good as new. It didn't matter if he had to spend all the money his parents sent him every month and, when that wasn't enough, he would just steal the ingredients from Professor Slughorn's personal cabinet, without feeling the slightest bit of remorse. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to keep her happy and continue to feel the marvelous pleasure her touch would give him.

I hated for so long
Loving myself
through loving you

When his classmates found out about her, they mocked him. They told him to find a real girl (Those aware of Severus' preferences told him to find a nice bloke.) The most conservative ones called him disgusting and started avoiding his company. Severus didn't mind any of those things: he knew that among boys that sort of practice was very frequent, yet never mentioned. But why couldn't they understand that it wasn't a matter of need anymore? How would they know she had given him not only the best sex he ever had, but also the only sex he ever had? He didn't want a nice bloke anymore; he wanted her! He didn't care what his classmates said, he would continue his beautiful relationship. Yes, if his mates chose to disclose the nature of his relationship, he would become the Slytherin weirdo, but hadn't he always been that anyway? No, Severus wasn't going to risk what he had with his beloved for fear of what people might think.

Unfortunately, Severus didn't count on the intolerance and hatred; he didn't understand that he was ahead of his time. One day, after a particularly exhausting Potions class. Severus was so deep in his own thoughts (did he need one or two ounces of dragon liver to make his potion perfect?) that he didn't notice the whole Slytherin Quidditch team was approaching him. They tied him up, punched him in the face and forced him to watch his beloved break several bones in the merciless hands (branches, actually) of the Whomping Willow. After the massacre, they cursed her to avoid a quick healing. Severus wasn't able to stand such a ruthless bloodbath and fainted before it was over.

When Severus regained consciousness, he was in the hospital wing, covered in bandages. He knew she was right next to him, but he didn't dare to look. It was all useless; it would take months before she was cured.

At last, mustering all the courage he had left, he finally looked at her. The scene was horrible: she was covered in blood, and despite Madam Pomfrey's obvious efforts, she wasn't healing. Severus couldn't stop the tears flowing from his eyes. Not only he was single again, but the damage was so deep that he wouldn't be able to make potions for months and the NEWTs were moving closer everyday. No one, not even Potter and his cronies, had humiliated him like this. All the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team would pay with their own blood for the damage they had inflicted upon him, even if that was the last thing he'd ever do, Severus swore to himself that cold night.

After all, no one should ever interfere in the love between a man and his hand.