Some Duties …

'I don't know where this sudden reticence has come from Severus', said Dumbledore, breaking eye contact, as he swiftly stood up from the desk.

Severus Snape lent back on his heel, thankful for a moment of relief from the headmaster's mental assault. It had been so long that he'd felt the need to shield his mind from that penetrating blue gaze that he'd quite forgotten the intensity of it. He felt lightheaded from the effort of keeping up his defenses, but despite his breathlessness he couldn't help but cherish a moment of subdued pride; that was two of the world's most powerful wizards he could best with Occlumency.

The pride was short-lived however, as Dumbledore positioned himself in front of him, a look of mixed sympathy and frustration on his face.

'You're clearly hiding something from me,' he said, in a measured tone that betrayed a hint of annoyance. 'But taking little care to conceal that there is a concealment, what am I supposed to make of it?'

'I am sorry to disappoint you, Headmaster,' was all he could reply, and for the first time in their longstanding relationship as master and spy, he lost the ability to look at Dumbledore directly, and turned his face away.

He flinched, a second later, when felt the headmaster's fingers under his chin, and his face was pulled gently back to look squarely into those steel blue eyes.

'Whatever you've done Severus, I won't judge you unduly. Explain what's happened.'

'I really don't think I can Headmaster.' He took a careful step backwards.

Dumbledore sighed. 'You don't trust me.'

'Of course, I do Headmaster. If you understood … I know I can solve this without involving you.'

'And I can't take that chance. You tell me you fear you won't be able to keep your cover much longer, yet you cannot won't tell me why that is. You clearly want to tell me, so why not let me know the whole story?'

Severus took a steadying breath. A part of him did want to tell, to have Dumbledore understand, think of a way out of this for him. But that would never happen.

'If I tell you Headmaster, you will despair of me.'

'Alright', Dumbledore's voice finally took on the hard edge that Severus had been dreading. 'If you don't tell me, I can't let you go on in this. You cannot remain in the order, and I cannot allow you to go back to Voldemort. You can remain at Hogwarts for now, but in what capacity I will have to consider.'

He sat back down at the desk, picking up his quill and returning his attention to the mountain of parchment before him.

Severus clasped his hands behind his back, looking up at the gallery of previous headmasters who occupied the walls of the office. At this time of night, they all were sleeping, though Severus suspected that for some it was only feigned. Phineas Nigellus opened one eye, and winked at him.

He remembered that night, fifteen years ago. He would've have welcomed the wind as a protection from Dumbledore's words, 'You disgust me'. Severus had recoiled from them, as though they had been a blow to his head. It had hurt far more than any physical punishment, any humiliation that he'd been subjected to by his father, the marauders, the ministry, the Dark Lord. He'd known then he would do anything, truly anything, to avoid a repetition of those words, that look that told him of Dumbledore's revulsion.

Many times, over his years at Hogwarts, he'd experience the Headmaster's disappointment, but it had always passed, and Severus had strengthened his resolve to do better. Now this; he couldn't let himself be expelled from the order, it would confirm the worst suspicions he still held about himself. Worst still, to loose Dumbledore's respect would leave him bereft of anyone in the world who thought him more than his past mistakes, and the last person he dared to believe held any warm feeling for him.

He interlaced his fingers, silently weighing the odds. If he told … would the Headmaster not come to the same conclusion anyway, that he was unworthy to remain a part of the order, to teach at Hogwarts, to be part of something good.

He stepped forward.

Dumbledore looked up, his face impassive.

'Would you cover the portraits Headmaster?' asked Severus, a slight tremor in his voice.

Dumbledore didn't move.

'Please.'

The eyes warmed, the Headmaster rose, and with a flick of his wand an impenetrable red curtain fell over the wall. Dumbledore turned around and gestured to chair.

'I'd rather not, thank you, Headmaster'.

'Very well,' Dumbledore, sat back down anyway, his hands open on the desk. 'Whenever you're ready.'

Severus felt his breathing quicken, the tightness in his chest was becoming sickening.

'No one can hear us,' said Dumbledore, gently, 'And I promise whatever you have to tell me, I'll do my best to understand. It's not an easy position I've put you in after all.'

Severus wished the headmaster had chosen a less apt phrase. He crossed his arms in effort to remain as steady and straight as was possible. 'I haven't been completely honest with you about what happened the night I returned to the Dark Lord. It was not easy to convince him that I had remained loyal for so many years, none of the others would take my part, they were too keen to see another kill. I let him into my mind as much as I could, I let him see so much, but he knew there was something more that I was too ashamed to admit even to myself.'

'That something being?'

'That I was disgusted in myself, for having behaved so … Since I've been here Headmaster, with you, I come to see myself as I used to be, through your eyes, what you were so rightly appalled by.'

'But I can presume you overcame this difficulty, since Voldemort did take you back into his service'.

Severus took a steadying breath and stared at the red curtain, picturing the gentle sleep of the portraits behind it. 'I told him something else, something I hoped he'd believe would cause me just as much shame to have to admit. I told him that … that you I …'

He dared to look at headmaster for his reaction, Dumbledore had turned his head to the side and seemed to examine something on the other side of the room.

'Please headmaster, I know it was wrong, I couldn't think what else would convince him. I told him that you only agreed to defend me against the Ministry if gave you what you wanted in return. He believed me without question.'

'I see', Dumbledore still wouldn't look at him, 'and why now has this led to your disgrace? I shouldn't wonder that he'd be most impressed by the lengths you were willing to go to serve your master.'

'I am sorry Headmaster, I would never …'

Dumbledore held a hand up to silence him.

Severus resigned himself to the inevitable, and lowered his gaze to the floor. 'Because he can't see it. Because when he looks into my mind, it isn't there. He knows I'm hiding something from him … I can't think how to keep it from him any longer, he'll know that I lied to him and he'll surely determine why.'

Dumbledore was in shadow to him, rising from behind the desk. Severus allowed himself a glance as the headmaster walked past him.

'Please Headmaster, won't you say something?'

Dumbledore turned around, an unfathomable expression on his face. Severus felt his stomach drop and returned his gaze to the red curtain. His fingers dug into his sleeves of his tunic, as though his own grasp were holding his entire being together.

Feeling Dumbledore behind him, his mouth went dry. For a second, he was convinced he was, once again, eight years old, waiting behind his bedroom door for his father's step, alert the distinct sound of a belt being unbuckled.

The feel of a hand on the back of his neck brought him back to the here and now. The touch was soft, the fingers gnarled with age were none the less silky and agile. He had no idea he was so sensitive just there. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone, replaced by the Headmaster's breath against his ear.

'Over to the desk, Severus'.

'Headmaster?'

Dumbledore only nodded toward the desk.

Severus moved forward slowly, it was less than five paces, yet his feet were like lead. When he reached the desk, he let his fingers touch the cool surface. He sensed the swish of the wand behind him that made the parchment vanish, leaving the surface smooth and empty. A hand pressed at his lower back and he felt himself arching as he was bent over, his hands splayed in front of him, as his own weight pressed down on his arms.

He closed his eyes in preparation for pain, humiliation, punishment. Instead there were the fingers again at his neck, scooping up his hair, tucking it down along one side of his face. Severus felt his breath hitch, his arms started to tremble.

Dumbledore positioned himself behind his spy, their bodies touching through their robes.

One hand touched at Severus' knee and slid slowly up his thigh.

'Huh', he rocked forward slightly, half a protest lodged in his throat.

'If you tell me stop Severus, then I will.'

Severus didn't look round, but brought his gaze back to the red curtain and the silhouettes of the sleeping portraits.

Dumbledore's hand was at his waist, then at the top of his trousers, the fingers making easy work of the buttons. They tugged, slightly impatiently, to lower them, the underwear with them. In some detached part of his mind Severus was thankful for his long tunic for providing him some protection and dignity.

Dumbledore carefully placed a booted foot next to Severus' instep, parting the younger man's legs, and positioning himself between them, before moving aside the material of his own robes.

Severus waited, biting on his lower lip, expecting at any moment for the familiar pain of being angrily invaded, only this time it would be accompanied by the knowledge that he truly did deserve to be shamed and cheapened. He felt that would accept what was coming if he believed it would allow him to regain the headmaster's respect, but right now the loss was too overwhelming for him hope of salvaging anything of their former relationship.

He recoiled at the sensation of a finger at his opening, but it entered him slowly, stretching just slightly, spreading a soft tingling liquid in its wake. The finger was joined by another and then another.

'Aahhh', Severus, exhaled, closing eyes.

The fingers were quickly withdrawn, replaced by the Headmaster's substantial erection, as he entered him in one thrust.

Severus finally cried out; in shock or pain he wasn't sure. He could hear Dumbledore's breath quicken, and a hand returned to his neck steadying him as he was rocked forward by the rhythm of the continued thrusting.

Then other hand was reaching around him, fingers sliding around the potion master's still flaccid member. The hand started moving in time with the thrusts. Severus gripped the desk harder; in his head he started alphabetically cataloging the ingredients that were in the potions store cupboard. He'd reached moondew when he noticed the Headmaster had given up trying to arouse him, and was instead thrusting harder and faster into his arse. Tears formed behind his eyes in an instant as he realized what he'd become, but he forced them back. In a single sentence he'd damned himself in the headmaster's eyes, revealed to the person he most admired the whore he truly was. It was the only thing he'd ever been able to trade on, and it hadn't gotten much at that. It was his mind, and his skills that had appealed to the Dark Lord, and there was a time when that knowledge was his most prized possession. But even then, he knew he'd only got there by being passed round Lucius Malfoy's drawing room. No wonder the Dark Lord had believed him when he'd offered his explanation of Dumbledore's acceptance of him.

Suddenly, a hand clenched around a fistful of hair, and the Dumbledore's movements ceased, his body stiff behind Severus, and for a few seconds the air stilled around them, the silence broken by the headmaster's satisfied breathing. Severus felt the erection inside him pulse and throb, then it swiftly withdrew, and he gasped with the shock of cold air that hit him as Dumbledore stepped back.

Hardly daring to move for fear of making eye contact, Severus tilted his head. The Headmaster had his back to him, and appeared to be rearranging his clothing. Taking advantage of the brief aspect of privacy this allowed him, he straightened pulling up his trousers. Long used being used in this way he barely registered the twinge in his muscles, but he noted with a flush of shame the wetness at the back of his thighs.

The silence went on, as neither of them seemed eager to face each other. In the end, Dumbledore overcame his reluctance, 'Well, that should have taken care of your difficulty Severus.'

Severus drooped his head in an attempt at a nod, allowing his hair to fall in front of his face. Then the hand was there again, under his chin, firmer this time. His head was pulled up to look into the headmaster's eyes, soft and calm, as though this had been nothing more than their annual disagreement about the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. The corners of Dumbledore's mouth turned up just slightly as he brushed Severus' hair back behind his ear.

Severus jerked backwards as if being pulled by invisible reins. 'If that is everything headmaster would it be alright if I left?'

His eyes were trained on the desktop, where just a moment ago he'd been bent over with the headmaster thrusting into him.

'Alright,' replied Dumbledore, sitting himself behind the desk, as the parchments he'd earlier banished appeared again. He picked up his quill and returned to work.

Severus meanwhile crossed the room in three quick strides. As soon as he was out of the office he was practically running.